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gamemakerm · 8 months ago

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In honor of Mermay and the current trend of Animal/Therian HRT going around (inspired by @ayviedoesthings's Dragon HRT series, @welldrawnfish's Fish HRT, @kaylasartwork's Bat HRT, @nyxisart's Puppy HRT, @deadeyedfae's Human HRT, etc etc etc, love all your work), I wanted to share the short story I wrote last year about medically turning yourself into a mermaid. This got published in WriteHive's Reclaiming Joy anthology, and we're now just outside of the six-month publishing exclusivity, so I can make it publicly available.

This was really raw to write for me, and there are trigger warnings for transphobia(/whatever the equivalent would be for mermaids?), implications of violence and hate crimes. However all the stories in the anthology were ultimately about perseverance, courage and love. I hope you enjoy, and if you want to get this and eleven other uplifting stories I can't recommend the anthology enough (though this is the only one relevant to the tags as far as I know). And if you really, really like it, you can buy me a kofi!

Scales

When the scales began to break through skin, they said you were becoming a monster. Blue and green, seafoam to pearl. You weren’t certain at what point you started to believe them.

You began to wrap yourself in tighter layers, a futile effort not to draw attention to the rough patches. Elbows, knees, along your arms, mottled with foundation and concealer caked on like spackle. Toner to offset the iridescent shine so that a passing glance wouldn’t be drawn to it. Constant checks and double checks, bathroom visits far beyond the routine.

Your careful camouflage is usually enough to deflect scrutiny, but occasionally a stranger catches on. Nobody has said anything to you yet, but you have noticed more glances on the train. The old woman’s frown of disapproval. The young man with something to prove to you, himself, the world. His jaw tightens as he calculates his ability to start something. You tuck your chin and pretend to be busy with your phone. In the dark screen you can see the skin flaking on your cheeks. The beginnings of another patch betray you.

As you touch up in the bathroom mirror you tell yourself you wanted this, that you were prepared for the hardships.

You walk to the public library after your shift ends. You walk most places these days, telling yourself it’s a last hurrah. The fact is you sold your car to make a dent in the cost. You’ll sell everything eventually. You’re going to have to.

The forums have a list of books everyone checks out when they choose this path. There aren’t many and most are fantasy. There’s a running joke: if anyone mentions Hans Christen Anderson, run. You spot The Little Mermaid on a small display. You don’t run. You check out your books. The librarian gives a knowing nod, but doesn’t remark. You silently thank her for the discretion.

You take a long shower, makeup swirling down the drain. You can’t help but scratch at the itching patches on your thighs, peeling skin tearing away for new growth. Shampoo and blood circle under your feet. Your fingernails are sharper than they were this morning. You exfoliate, letting the city, public transit, the glances of strangers be cleansed. Your reflection in the mirror, a colorful smattering of new scales dusting your cheeks, is tear-streaked, ethereal. Beautiful.

You knock the concealer into the trash bin.

Your mother left a voicemail. She avoids the elephant seal in the room, talking about her gardening, your cousin’s new baby. She lingers for a moment, then: You’re being selfish. She burns brightly as a beratement begins, emboldened. But without someone to riff with she loses her steam, trails off and repeats it. You’re being shellfish. She can’t help it; she laughs despite herself. There’s a minute where she doesn’t speak, but you can tell she’s waiting for the sob in the back of her throat to settle. She promises she’ll come to your party and the voicemail ends.

You still haven’t heard from your father. You don’t expect you will. You’ve made peace with that.

You do your weekly injection on the alternating leg, needle piercing deep in a gap between scales. The plunger delivers 200mg of concentrated hope directly into your bloodstream, salt water in salt water. You put a hello kitty bandaid over it and wait for the feeling of ice in your veins to settle, the tension to go out of your muscles. It doesn’t.

You pass an enraged man on the street, spit flying, a home-made sandwich board making his message clear: The Siren Is The Devil’s Agent. The back offers an equally cogent argument: Go Back To Atlantis, Fish Freaks. You would if you could, you think dryly. He notices you and seethes, but the current of the crowd carries you away before he can curse you out.

You drag your potted plants down to the front stoop and post a craigslist ad: free to a good home. They’re gone within the hour. You allow yourself the rare indulgence of posting a selfie, eyes closed, serene, to the reddit: Learning to love my scales <3! It’s still difficult to type on your phone with the new claws. The upvotes start to come in; everyone loves a guppie.

You catch up on the shows you haven’t gotten to yet. Where there was once only the metaphorical List, there is now an actual list. Despite your best efforts it’s becoming increasingly clear you’re not going to finish all of them. You knock a few off, restructure it based on length. It still looks too long.

You have dreams about choking on toxic waste, getting minced by a boat propeller. You keep a running count of the number of times you’ve dreamt of getting your head stuck in a six-pack of soda rings. You’re up to four.

Every few days you do laps in the local pool. You’re getting faster, but you feel exposed. There are whispers around the locker room.

Your cat knows something is happening, but doesn’t understand what that means for her. You hold her whenever and for as long as she’ll allow, give her as many pets and treats as she wants. Despite clearing out your apartment you’ve spoiled her. She licks the scales on your cheek as you cry over her. This seems to inspire something in her; she demands her tuna crunchies. Dutifully you give her the tuna crunchies. She can have as many tuna crunchies as she wants.

You doomscroll your twitter feed, making sure this isn’t the day you lose access to your meds because of some white man in a suit. A sister is assaulted by a violent extremist with a sense of humor: he shot her with a harpoon gun. Her crowdfunding campaign starts on the maidens reddit and goes viral.

You triple check to make sure your friend is still willing to take your cat when you go. They promise to spoil her and tell her stories of you every day. You continue to cry over it. They invite you out for sushi to talk about it, then backtrack to ask if that’s a microaggression. You go to sushi. You’re thankful for the distraction.

By the time your legs are more scale than skin and your fingers begin to develop webbing you’ve given up on pretense. The looks are now constant, but you get reflective sunglasses and a new patch for your jacket: Don’t like it? Drown, with a scaled hand reaching out of water and flipping the bird. You put the energy out into the world, and the world doesn’t fuck with you.

Children love you. Their parents do not.

On the train a young girl quietly asks if she can feel your scales. You allow her to touch her little fingers to the aquamarine pattern running up your arm, giving her your most reassuring (but still fanged) smile. She’s fearless, enamored, reverent. Her mother pulls her daughter away and hastily apologizes for her, not looking you in the eye. But you know that girl believes in magic now.

A group of white supremacists go out on a boat loaded with assault rifles for “no reason” and get lost at sea. This is somehow your fault.

The day your fins begin to push their way out from your arms, your boss calls you into his office. You both know he can’t fire you in this and seven other states, but you both also know you won’t be staying much longer. He’s done his best to make you aware you’re making his life more difficult. You put in your two weeks before he can flounder for another excuse. He moors you with paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.

Someone leaves a rotting fish in your pool locker. You don’t go back, and you don’t file a report. You tell yourself the chlorine was bad for the gills freshly forming under your ribs anyway.

Your friends take you out clubbing. You lose yourself under the waves of music, submerged under strobe lights and the salty sweat of dancing bodies. You whisper sweet nothings into a stranger’s ear, entrancing her as you move against each other. You can see iridescence shining around her eyes, shimmering glitter and an emerging pattern beneath makeup. You brush a thumb against her cheek and she melts into your touch. You don’t get her name. You don’t need to; you’re both not long for this world. You catch up with your friends smoking outside, your lips still tingling with vermouth.

Weeks pass. Work ends. Your apartment is down to furniture and cat supplies. You take longer showers. News stories continue to come out, the machine churns and roils: monsters walking among humans, the mark of the beast, sacrificing daughters to the ocean.

You make sure your meds are reupped for the final stretch.

When your legs start to merge you know you don’t have much time left. You donate the last boxes of your clothes. Your friends get first dibs on furniture before it’s put on the street. They bring drinks and sit on your floor, an impromptu celebration and wake. They ask all the usual questions: what are you going to do for food? Shelter? What if you get hurt, or attacked by a shark? Do they have waterproof laptops yet? Will they ever see you again? What if it isn’t right for you? Can you ever come back?

You don’t know how to answer most of those questions. The group stays with you through the night. At 4AM you put on The Little Mermaid and the group drunkenly sings along. Everyone knows the words. It’s juvenile and you can hear the maidens on the reddit rolling their eyes and tutting about misrepresentation, but you know everyone in your position does it. You try not to cry, but the waterworks start and don’t stop.

At daybreak you put your cat into her harness and everyone piles into a friend’s van. It’s not far to the beach, but they take the long way around. One final tour of the land. Your cat sits on your lap and stares out the windows as you pass old haunts, your grocery store, your gym, your high school. You realize you still have library books to return and almost get them to turn around, but someone promises to go back for them afterwards.

There’s an isolated area on the beach where a canopy and tables are set up; banners, food, friends. It’s a regular going away party, as if you’re going on a short trip abroad. You suppose you are, in a way. Someone rented a wheelchair with fat tires to help you get down to the beach.

When your mother arrives she pulls her shirt off to show her custom-made clam bra. Her eyes are already red and puffy, but she’s doing her best to be energetic and upbeat. She holds you for a long time and says she’s happy for you, that you’re beautiful, that you’re so much stronger than she ever was, and then she puts on a brave face to help everyone get served at the buffet. Your cat chases small crabs across the beach around you, and you sit in the sand. The party goes strong.

The tides come up until your fin is tickled by the seafoam. Everyone knows that means it’s time to go. You pass your cat off to her new owner and she gives you a last headbutt. She seems to understand. You kiss your mother’s cheek one last time and she clings to you. The group raises their drinks as you paddle out, disappearing beneath the waves. You give them the money shot and leap out of the water on your way out of the sound, and you can hear cheering from the shoreline. You hope someone got a video for the maidens.

You keep the city in sight for a while, but the currents lead you further into open waters. There are boaters out on the water who wave to you. You wave back and keep swimming up the coast.

At dusk you rise to the surface and watch the setting sun turn the horizon from blue to pink to purple and orange. There’s nothing for leagues around. As the sun sinks below the waves and the skies darken you sing your first real siren’s song. Shaky and imperfect, it soon resounds over the ocean breeze. You leave everything behind in it. There are no words, only feeling and sound. It’s a lament, an invocation, a dirge. It is many things, but it isn’t an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.

In the seas beyond a chorus joins in with a language you never learned but understand, integrating your song into theirs. You swim to join them.

#animal hrt #furry hrt #dragon hrt #therian hrt #otherkin #mermaid #mermay #mermay 2024 #transgender #tf hrt #mythical hrt?#writing #short story #writeblr

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devildomwriter · 4 months ago

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Obey Me As Tumblr #33

MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer

Solomon: Fork

MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin

Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha

MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out

•

Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time

Leviathan: We touch

Solomon: I get

Diavolo: This feeling

•

Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on

Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves

Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him

•

Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed

•

Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room

They said “thank you”

I said “don’t mention it”

Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?

Belphegor: Nobody tell them

•

Thirteen:

Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?

Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena

Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal

Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live

•

Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?

Lucifer: I don’t know. What?

Diavolo: A condescending con descending

Lucifer: Get out

MC: That was beautiful

•

Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day

•

Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays

•

Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him

•

Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion

•

Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around

•

Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons

Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed

Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?

•

Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is

•

Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day

Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive

•

Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please

•

Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can

Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this

Mammon: YO

•

Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I am the physical embodiment of suffering

#obey me shall we date #funny obey me #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me as tumblr #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me simeon #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me thirteen #obey me satan

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eejilunio · 2 months ago

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I'm gonna say it again because i thought about it again and it disturbed me again.

But to see the graphic decline of Azula's mental health, with her insomnia, hallucinations, crying fits, self-isolation, and final breakdown that Katara and Zuko witnessed first-hand, and then, to see Katara and Zuko and every other characters in the show flourishing shortly after with no mention of Azula ever again, It feels insulting to look at.

Azula showed scary symptoms of mental illness, and that was the first time she showed vulnerability in front of someone, even her parents didn't see that part of her, so it is a huge thing right? By breaking down in front of her brother and his friend, it could have opened the door for communication. So what are they ogling her for? Are they enjoying the show? At least Katara was disturbed and looked away, but then she looked at Zuko as if she felt sad for him, idk, idk what that look meant i'm not psychic, and Zuko just looked stonily at Azula crying. Nobody said anything, nobody moved while Azula was restrained and sobbing. And then the scene fades out. What am i supposed to think of that conclusion? Am i supposed to forget about it afterwards ? Did Zuko and Katara leave her there and rushed to celebrate with their friends ? Is that what happened? Did they help her or not? I needed to know that before the screen faded out. And i could have also known after when every characters in the show made an appearance, if only they showed Azula somewhere.

Azula feels like the elephant in the room at the end of the show. She should be brought up at least in conversation, but the writers don't want to talk about her.

The way the writers focused so much on Zuko's pain and on giving him a beautiful conclusion, but just left Azula like this with Zuko looking disdainfully at her as if she was beneath him, as if he was satisfied of finally beating his sister at something and he was proven right in the fact he is actually better than her at life or something, it makes me angry. Do i misinterpret Zuko's face? Probably. It's not as if i could understand what he felt through his poker face. A poker face in front of someone sobbing feels like disdain to me, if it's not followed by attempts at helping.

It triggers memories of my own breakdown when my mum and brother just looked at me without saying anything.

I feel like that passiveness in front of clear emotionnal distress is the result of a mix of bystander effect and a lack of empathy. You don't feel enough empathy that could drive you to help, and you don't feel responsible for not helping either because there's another person next to you that could have done it too but didn't. So you feel normal by not helping and standing there like a statue. Like an idiot. And it must be an interesting show to them, it breaks the monotony of everyday life at least.

So yes, i'm projecting on Azula, but maybe if the writers didn't want people projecting on her, they shouldn't have made her have such a realistic breakdown.

I feel like the writers managed to write by accident a realistic depiction of how mental illness is handled by most people in society though : by not handling it at all and purposefully ignoring the obvious distress even when it's in your face, because it's more comfortable to look at someone dying inside for years and call them crazy than to actually get involved and talk about feelings.

There, i'm done.

#atla #azula #avatar the last airbender #i'll try to stop my rants on azula there but i'm not promising anything

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kamotecue · 1 year ago

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friends don’t look at friends that way ✰ s. catley

pairing: steph catley x reader

summary: in which two teammates are hiding their feelings. irish!reader, arsenal!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were confused about your feelings for a certain left-back. perhaps it was the huge elephant in the room, or it was just the overthinking thoughts that had occurred.

you felt someone sit beside you, it was your national team captain, katie mccard as the fans would say. she had a habit of getting yellow cards, it was always amusing for you, but at the same time if you needed to win, it wasn’t.

“what’s on your mind?” katie asked, as you just shrugged. you didn’t feel like talking about your current situation.

“good talk, n/n.” katie joked as you groaned.

“there’s this person i like—they can be a bit confusing, like are we friends? or are we more than friends?” you asked, as katie hummed.

“why don’t you talk to them about how you’re feeling? maybe they reciprocate the feelings.” katie said, as you looked across the pitch to see steph who already had her eyes on you and katie. she was talking to caitlin, her national teammate.

“it’s not that easy, she-“ you froze, as katie just nodded but turned to look at you as you paused.

“what? is it the fact that you mentioned a girl? there’s nothing wrong y/n, besides welcome to the club.” katie said, as she gave you a wink. you chuckled, as you shook your head.

“right then, she says that we are friends but the way she looks at me isn’t just friendly” you said, as katie gave you a pat on the back.

“like i said y/n, confront them about it. it wouldn’t hurt to take a risk.” she said, as she got up and went to join the others.

you pushed yourself of the floor, getting your kit bag as you headed to your car. you slung your kit bag to the back, as you took out your phone and connected it to the aux charger not noticing a certain aussie opening the passenger door.

“let’s talk, n/n.” you looked to the side, to see steph catley, the one who’s occupying your mind 24/7.

“be my guest, you’ve already opened the car door.” your sarcasm was ignored, as steph entered the car putting her kit bag in the back gently as she closed the door.

“what are we?” steph asked, as you pulled out of the training grounds.

“i don’t know.” you said, as you focused on the road not even bothered to look at the australian who just analyzed your face.

“are we just friends? or is there something more?” steph asked, her voice was a bit soft making you look at her.

“you say we’re friends, steph. you always do, it’s like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.” you said, as you thought about the times were she would just introduce you two as teammates, not even friends.

we say we’re friends, but i’m catching you across the room

are we friends? or is there something more? because right now, you needed a sign. whenever you’re doing something, you’d catch her making these glances at you. when you’d hug or cling onto your teammates, she’d have this certain glint in her eyes.

it makes no sense ‘cause we’re fighting over what we do

you thought about the silly arguments that you’d get into. you’d act like a married old couple which is why the team has shipped you both, but there were days where you’d completely avoided each other, acting like strangers.

and there’s no way that i’ll end up being with you

there was always this thought at the back of your head, that you’d never end up with steph or she’d never go for you, because in simple terms, you always thought that she was out of your league.

or the fact that maybe she could be straight? that there is this guy she likes, and they are completely the opposite of you.

but friends don’t look at friends that way

the longing gazes she’d sent your way when nobody is looking, or how you’re the only one she sees in a crowded room.

friends don’t look at friends that way.

but yeah, like you said, friends don’t look at friends that way.

“i don’t want to be friends, y/n. i want you to be mine.” steph said, as your eyes widened.

#steph catley #steph catley imagine #steph catley x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine

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aurorawhisperz · 1 year ago

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ethan x fem!reader who smokes 🤭

“What are you doing?” You jumped slightly at the sound of Ethan’s voice. He frowns at the sight of you on the ground and holding a lighter. “Am I interrupting something?” He asks.

“Yes.”

The curly-headed boy raises his eyebrows and looks around, “Doesn’t seem relevant enough to be interrupted.” He grins. You quickly hide the cigarette and sit up, feeling a bit embarrassed by being caught. “Go back to Chad or something.” You roll your eyes.

Every party you had went to, you usually snuck behind the frat house to smoke. Every. Single. One. You liked it when nobody came to look for you.

To your surprise, Ethan appeared next to you, looking a bit out of place.

“So, what are you doing here?” You exhale a puff of smoke. Ethan wasn't exactly known for attending these kinds of parties, so seeing him here was unexpected.

He hesitated for a moment, then finally took a seat next to you. “Mind if I join you?”

You shrugged, taking another drag. “Not at all. Enjoying the party?” Ethan glanced around, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks. “Yeah, it's... different from what I'm used to.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, these parties can be a bit of a shitshow. People usually come here to let loose and rub up against each other.”

“Rub up against each other.” He repeats, chuckling. “I just realized we don’t really hang out, since you’re always with.. my sister and stuff.”

You look at him, surprised that he's addressing the elephant in the room. Your mind races for a moment as you try to figure out his intentions.

Ethan’s voice seems a bit nervous, and he avoids your gaze, focusing on his fidgeting fingers.

“Yeah, you're right,” You reply with a soft smile, taking another drag from your cigarette. “We're usually caught up with the whole friend group dynamic.”

Ethan lets out a relieved laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Yeah, exactly. It's like we're all connected through each other, but I've been curious about getting to know everyone better.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden openness. “Well, what do you want to know?”

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he glances away again. “What do you like to do when you're not at parties?”

Considering his question, realizing that you don't often talk about these things with anyone. “I'm a bit of a book collector, actually. I enjoy reading, and I'm into photography too.”

There’s something about him that feels magnetic this time, being this close and looking at him. It almost feels like a need instead of a want.

The night air starts to feel chilly, and you can't help but shiver slightly. As you take another drag from your cigarette, Ethan glances at you, concern evident in his eyes. “Hey, are you cold?”

You chuckle softly, the cold breeze getting to you. “Guess I didn't dress for the weather.”

Ethan hesitates for a moment, then shrugs off his jacket. “Here,” he offers, holding it out to you. “I don’t really need it.”

You look at him, a bit surprised by the gesture. His jacket seems to be a comforting cocoon of warmth, and you hesitate for a moment before accepting it with a grateful smile. “Thanks, E.”

The nickname made him turn all shades of red and pink.

He smiles back, a touch of shyness in his expression. “No problem. It's better than you freezing out here.”

As you put on his jacket, you're met with its familiar warmth and a faint hint of his cologne. It's a surprisingly intimate gesture, one that makes you feel closer to him in this quiet moment. The chilly night no longer bothering you.

The conversation continues, Ethan seems even more at ease, a genuine smile lighting up his features. The two of you talk about everything from ice cream flavors to childhood memories, each exchanged feeling more comfortable than the last.

Ethan glances at your cigarette and chuckles. “Let me try.” A sheepish grin on his face.

You smirk playfully. “Well, if you're curious, I guess you can try it. But Quinn would go crazy.”

Ethan chuckles softly, his eyes lighting up mischievously. “Actually, I don't think she would care.”

You notice that Ethan's gaze lingers on your plump lips for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. Without fully realizing it, you lean in slightly, drawn by an invisible string between you.

His eyes meet yours, his breath hitching as he leans in as well. It's a moment frozen in time, one where everything seems to hang in the balance.

Just as your lips are about to touch, a loud crash echoes from somewhere behind you, and you both startle, pulling away from each other. You turn to see a purse rolling on the ground, having been thrown out of a frat house window.

You can't help but laugh. “Definitely not the most romantic timing.”

He chuckles nervously, running a hand through his brown curls. “Yeah, I guess not.”

•

The party had started winding down already, and you find yourselves by a streetlight now. “I had a really great time talking to you, (NAME).”

“Unexpectedly fun.” You joke, and look down. Your phone lights up with Quinn's name. “I have to, um, go.” You manage an awkward smile.

But before you can continue, Ethan's lips are suddenly on yours. It's a gentle and fleeting kiss, a promise of what could have been. His touch is soft, his intent clear, and just as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, his cheeks flushed.

How could this boy be so hot and awkward at the same time?

Ethan steps back, a shy smile on his face. “Sorry about that. I couldn't resist.”

Your heart races, and you can't help but smile in return. “No need to apologize.”

As you fumble for your phone, Ethan's expression becomes playful. “You might want to answer that. Don't want Quinn thinking you're avoiding her.”

You step closer. “Well, this was unexpected, but I'm really glad we had this chance to talk.”

Ethan's smile becomes more assured, his gaze steady. “Me too. We should do it again sometime.”

Before he can continue, you lean in and places a quick, soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight.”

This night, this boy, this connection, this memory. You were never gonna let it go. It all just happened with a cigarette.

#ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream fanfiction #scream fluff #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #scream angst

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notsorryiml8 · 6 months ago

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From my Kakashi-obsessed friend:

“As much as I adore Kakashi, dude has major commitment issues that nobody ever talks about. Like, srsly, can we talk about the elephant in the room? The 3/4 length sleeves. Why tho? Either go with the short sleeves for total comfort and maneuverability or go long for the extra comfort and added protection that only a poly-cotton blend can provide when being attacked by a kunai or fire jutsu. But 3/4 and rolled 365 days of the year…that’s how you know the man has issues.“

I love her so much, 😂

#kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #Kakashi #kakashi ramblings #lol #naruto ramblings #Naruto

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totothewolff · 8 months ago

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Season of Love (6/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 6: Collision at Turn "Your Heart"

Sam and Toto go to the Soft Serve Society in London the following day to have milkshakes. They share a sizeable Instagram-able shake, asking for two straws instead of one.

The place is intimate and small, perfect for chatting. Its location in a trendy neighborhood gives Sam the ideal excuse to pull that Thom Browne boyish suit out of her suitcase.

As Sam is asking for two matcha cookies to complement their order, she notices Toto smiling like an idiot at his iPhone screen.

—Wow, that time you two spent apart did wonders for your relationship. I thought it was a "cease and desist" situation, as if there wouldn't be a turning point, but I haven't seen you like this in a long time.

—How? —Toto moves his gaze to Sam, a bit perplexed.

—Stupidly in love. So you two are genuinely back?

—Oh, that... well, we are trying this open relationship thing. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it.

Sam gives him a judgy look, her eyebrows slightly frowning. —Let me guess. Susie suggested it; you said no, then she pressured you, and you followed along. There is no need to explain further; I get it.

Toto shrugs and barely nods his head.

—It's always what Susie wants, isn't it? You are so blind sometimes —she sounds now annoyed.

—I thought you, of all people, would get it. You see love differently than in the traditional way. Preferences aside, you are more free regarding feelings and partners.

—Yes, yet I'm not into playing with other people's feelings.

—I'm not being played or playing with her feelings.

—To which one of the two hers are you referring?

A silence.

It's the first time Sam addresses the elephant in the room.

—Listen, I don't want to overstep, and God knows I don't want to get in the middle; I love you both; yes, I said that, and stop smiling like that, but for fuck sake, you two need to communicate and talk! LIKE TALK! I know it's not my place, and I have tried to remain as neutral as possible, but I genuinely care about Y/N; there's more you need to know about each other because this thing is going to blow in your faces the worst way.

—What's on this? Is this really happening? You telling me how you are feeling? —Toto picks up the shake to smell it, making a funny face and trying to lighten the mood. He also avoids giving Sam an answer but pays attention to her every word.

—Oh, fuck off —Sam pushes him a bit roughly.

—Sugar sure is a drug! —Toto's holding a laugh.

—How did your day out with Toto go?

—How do you know we went out? Stalker!

In response, you give Sam an exaggerated insulted expression (hand over your chest and open wide mouth). —He texted me when you two were at the ice cream place! He even sent me these pictures! —you show her the conversation. —By the way, that outfit of yours is CUTE!

—Oh! It was you then —she says quickly and softly.

—Sorry? —you look at Sam as if another head grew from her neck.

—Oh, nothing. Toto didn't mention anything. He was just smiling like an idiot and giggling like a teenager, looking all in love at his phone screen.

—All what? Sam, what you said?! —you feel your heart in your throat.

—Did you follow my advice? —she cuts your shenanigans.

—I tried to follow it and address our "situation," but he rushed to get wine. He ran from the conversation, and I didn't feel like having it much, either. I knew how it was going to end.

—Well, keep pushing, trust me.

—Is there something I should worry about? —you suddenly stop and look straight at her.

—It's not my place to tell —Sam answers neutrally.

Then you two board your jet with directions home, your new home, Monaco.

Now, thanks to Sam's words, an eerie sentiment fills your head. Is she trying to warn you something?

It's a quiet flight; well, if it wasn't for Samanta's snoring, not even an English Bulldog snores that loud.

Which makes you laugh hard; you have forgotten how terrible Sam sleeps.

It's been a while since you two slept nearby, which was the most common thing for all those years you lived at the Manor.

You have always been very much like sisters.

You take out your phone and start recording a video of Sam sound asleep with T-rex arms, open mouth, and loudly snoring, all weirdly placed on the comfy, big seat next to you.

Monaco

Why, every time you land in Monaco, your mind is in desperate need of a Toto detox?

As soon as you are in the car ride home, you hit the send button on the "Get a grip, loca🏎!" group chat.

After you share the video of Sam sleeping, a long list of replies and reactions appear in the group.

She threatens to murder you in your sleep.

Two nights after being back, when Charles enters the apartment wearing the world's most oversized outfit while trying to juggle four bottles of wine - one held under his chin - and a big fancy grocery bag while avoiding stepping on "Robbie" - your Roomba robot - you feel so at home; this couldn't be a more domestic scene for you two before you rush to help him.

Never mind, too late! Now, the kitchen floor looks like a crime scene.

God, how much you missed him! Keeping your friendship while hiding it from the rest of the Scuderia has been difficult.

Ferrari is a hermetic group that likes it that way; being extra friendly with the enemy could cost Charles' head, thanks to Binotto's paranoia.

—FUCK! FUCK AND FUCK! —he lets out, looking at the now red floor, followed by various French cursings coming out of that pouty mouth.

—At least the other three survived —you hear Sam say, entering behind him and holding two more bottles and a cake.

—Several bottles of wine and lots of food. This is an intervention for me, isn't it? —you ask, looking at them suspiciously.

Both of them energetically nod.

—We need to talk about Bruno —Charles jokes; he obviously means Toto while grabbing the paper towel on the kitchen counter to try cleaning his mess, which is as useless as you expected.

—Damn —is all you let out.

At some point, Charles gives up and prefers leaving a fat tip and a Post-it for Rosita when she comes clean tomorrow morning.

—Hi, I have a quick question: How much do you weigh?

A text from Toto comes in the early hours of the day as you are about to hit the treadmill in your luxurious building's training center. You rushed down there, unable to sleep a second more.

After the intervention, you comprehend lots of things need to change.

—(Y/N's weight), why? —you reply.

It's still dark outside.

Only you and three others are alone in the enormous gym section, which feels quiet and isolated, perfect for decompressing.

Apparently, when Toto and you are apart, you are both early birds. It's always a snooze fest when you two are tangled in sheets. Probably, it's because he makes the world's most fabulous pillow or because he loves having you wrapped in his arms.

Judging by his text's unusual hours, he may be overthinking it too. Lately, you have felt driven to exercise earlier in the morning as well to avoid losing your sanity.

A couple of minutes later, a video of Toto adjusting the weight of his barbells to your weight before doing a couple of hip thrusts comes as a reply.

You watch the video a couple of times, okay, several times, before hitting the reply button. —I can help you do some repetitions if you want; I know a very effective routine! My trainer also advised me I needed more cardio —you tease him, feeling a tingle down there, hehe.

Fuck! You are falling for it again, and you just swore to Sam and Charles that there would be no Toto during this break!

As Toto reads your text, a pleased smirk forms on his lips, and then he exhales and returns to exercise.

He shouldn't be feeling this desperate for your attention. It has been only the first week without seeing you.

The way you have turned his life upside down is unimaginable.

—Your girl is in town! —Normani sends a selfie of herself in the group chat, throwing a pose on the Monaco pier, looking flawless and stylish in a two-piece Casablanca outfit (an orange thee with colorful stripes and shorty shorts and pulling the coolest glasses) while blowing a kiss. —Let's hang out tonight!😈😈

—OH, I KNOW JUST THE PLACE —Lando writes back.

—Italy.

Several "???" appear.

—I'm in Italy —Seb clarifies.

Now, it makes sense.

—Someone needs to help Seb with this, really —George says.

—Let's take him to one of those free classes at the Apple store, you know, with the senior citizens —Checo jokes. —I'm with Carola's parents and the kids in Guadalajara, so we are out of the fun this time.

—Tell Carola I love her —you request Checo.

—I will, thx.

—I don't wish for an apple, thank you —Seb replies.

—Dear God —Lewis texts.

—Jk! Jk! I'm not that inept, and I'm not yet a senior citizen, but soon, 2032 let's go! —Seb exits the conversation.

—Lando, send the location —Lewis texts. —That's great to know, Seb. I'm already saving for our turbo wheelchairs to challenge you in races at the retirement home.

—There, see you guys at 1 a.m.

—I want to live enough to witness that, Lewis —Mick enters the conversation.

—This club looks like a shithole! I don't wish for my organs to get stolen —Charles points out after looking for the place on Google Maps; it's only a run-down facade photo of the place in a not-that-neat street.

—Trust me, you are going to love it —Lando comments.

—Is it private? —Lewis asks. —Cause last time we went out in London, getting us out of there was a nightmare.

—That's precisely why I'm suggesting this place!

—Spain.

—I'm in Spain —Carlos texts, mocking Seb. —Have fun without me, guys, even though I don't think you can. Send pictures. I miss you, my friends.

—Te extraño, too🙇‍♀️ —you reply, Carlos, you have become fond of him.

—🥰🥰 —Carlos sends.

—I'm liking this sketchy, mysterious place already —Sam joins in.

—Sam, is Millie still in town? —you ask her, you met Millie for brunch two days ago.

—No, I already left 😭😭😭. Mick invited me to hike in Patagonia—a photo of them out in nature follows her text.

—Okay, the ones who are going, please send a hands-up emoji; I'm booking the table —Lando texts.

You make your way through the winding streets of Monaco on Charles' bike at full speed; you are sure you flashed at least four people with that party mini dress you are wearing as you head to the mysterious nightclub.

As soon as you park, you agree with Charles that it looks like a sketchy part of town, but the faint sound of pulsing music and the flickering lights emanating from a door down a narrow corridor between two buildings right in front of you quickly distract you and guides you in.

Soon, as you enter and go down the long stairs, you are immediately enveloped in a world of luxury "decadence."

The atmosphere is electric, and the air is heavy with the scent of exotic perfumes.

—It smells like good sex —is what Lando tells you as he greets you, looking at your two "trying to discover the scent" faces.

The walls are decorated with striking artwork, each more provocative and daring than the last.

For sure, this place is the stage for many wild escapades.

As almost everyone gets there, the group is drawn to the center of the club, near where the main stage, lit up with swirling lights and seductive, almost naked dancers.

Your table in the VIP area "it has the best location in the place", again, according to Lando.

As you sit next to Nomani, who gave you the world's greatest greeting hug, you get mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of the music and the dancers' graceful motions.

You get transfixed, unable to tear your eyes away from them. Gorgeous he/she/they are on the stage.

—Beer, gin, what are we drinking? —Normani asks you.

—Tequila —you answer too quickly for her and Sam's amusement.

—Tequila, it is! —she says loudly and makes a little dance, shaking the girls around. The more than happy waiter witnesses it before getting the bottle.

You pour everyone a shot to start the night. Lewis just arrived, and George is running late as usual.

—Can you smell it? —you ask everyone.

A couple of "What?" come along.

—The regret —you joke as you all take the shot.

The group then goes full party core, joining the pulsating dance floor and losing themselves in the music.

Laughter and shouts fill the air as the exotic dancers approach you and the crowd to exchange some sensual moves.

Amidst the chaos and allure of the night, Toto arrives. Unexpectedly.

Charles and Sam instantly look at you, almost throwing you darts.

—I swear to God I didn't invite him!

George did.

As alcohol skyrockets Lando, he starts doing push-ups for you in the middle of the dance floor as a techno-dub mix of Olivia Newton John's and Dua Lipa's "Physical" starts playing while he looks straight at you.

—Is that supposed to impress me? —you raise an eyebrow, cross your arms, and lean on Lewis, who is also witnessing the action.

—Is it working?

—Never stop believing in your dreams —you laugh it off, and Toto playfully rolls his eyes at him, then winks at you.

"Oh, God, I'm weak! I'm not going to resist the temptation."

—The dancer with the jockstrap hasn't taken his eyes off you the entire night —Toto points out for Normani, gesturing to which one he refers.

Normani makes a "definitely wouldn't mind" expression. —Too bad I don't do one-night stands —she confesses.

—Like ever? —Lewis looks at her like she is from Mars.

—Hopeless romantic right here! —Normi answers. —I like to party, but I'm so old-fashioned. Thanks, Mom!

—What a classy lady, indeed! —George says.

—It's my Britishness britishing —she jokes. —I want a husband, a big house in the countryside, horses and babies, you know, the traditional.

—Like, literally, this is the worst place to discuss family! —Sam warns them with a "Don't kill the mood, guys" look.

—The worst! —you all burst out laughing.

—I'm not sure if she is messing with us or..? —Lando comes closer to saying to Charles.

—No, really! It's my biggest wish. I can't wait to be a mom! —Normani lets out.

—But you are so young! —everyone looks so shocked at her. Quite the revelation!

—I KNOW, but I want four! So, I better hurry up.

—FOUR?!! —everyone kind of screams in response.

Normani looks at them with a big smile, happy with the chaos her confession is causing.

—I get you, girl. I do love one myself; I have wanted to be a mom for years now. I feel I'm close to adopting one, but I need to do something with my schedule first. It would be impossible with a baby!

Toto listens to your conversation, very quiet and still, looking as if something inside him broke.

—Hey, I want to talk to you privately. I have something important to tell you; it's been on my mind for a while —Toto approaches you to whisper in your ear.

—Oh, sure, yeah —you agree to. "Okay, breathe, the moment it's coming."

When you reach a quiet spot to talk without all the people buzzing around, the loud background noises, and the almost butt-naked performers, you two remain there in an awkward silence for a minute.

Toto looks like he wants to say something but doesn't, so you break the ice first, feeling your hands shaking a bit.

—So what do you want to tell me that's so important?

He looks straight at you and takes two steps to close the distance between you. —Ahem, so... so what are you planning for... for the off-season? —he takes you off guard.

"Okay, this is not what I was expecting."

—I... I don't know... yet.

—Maybe we could spend it together. I know a private island that would be perfect —Toto offers you, totally improvising.

—Oh, I see...

—I mean... if you want to.

—No, no, of course, I want to!

—Perfect, then —he says, his voice deep. Toto then takes your hand, and you're surprised by the warmth from his touch.

"Coward" "Selfish" is all Toto thinks for himself. "But I don't want to lose her. I need her just a bit more. I don't know how to quit her."

—What do you say if we continue this conversation somewhere even more private? —Toto invites you, his intense dark eyes piercing right through you.

Before you have time to respond, he takes your hand and leads you toward the exit at the back of the place and into his car.

Soon, you arrive at his luxurious penthouse, abandoning almost all of your party clothes in the process.

You glance around the dimly lit living room, admiring its opulence. The walls are decorated with fine art, and the scent of wealth lingers in every corner.

Toto, already bare-chested, removes the rest of his clothes, revealing himself. You can't help but stare at his toned abs, defined muscles, and delicious dick.

He smirks, noticing your admiration, and pushes you closer to the sofa. It creaks softly under your weight as he sits you down, eyes locked onto each other.

—You're stunning —Toto says while tracing his fingers down your body as you remove your last piece of clothing.

Your pulse quickens at his touch, and you move in, pressing your lips hard against his.

Toto's tongue sneaks its way between your parted lips as he pulls your naked body close to his. You moan softly.

Slowly, he leans back onto the plush pillows, taking you with him. Your bodies intertwine in a passionate embrace, enjoying the heat from his broad chest into you as you run your hands all over him, feeling every inch of Toto pressing against your core.

He grabs you by the hips, grinding you against him forcefully, causing an excited whimper to escape your lips. You can't help but crave his every single inch.

Sliding yourself lower, you feel him harden beneath you. —Fuck, you're so hard —you whisper into his ear as you stroke his length up and down.

Toto flips you onto your back, not letting you control the show yet, spreading your legs wide. He effortlessly glides both of his hands beneath your ass, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

His left-hand squeezes your ass cheek possessively while his right supports your lower back. Then Toto lowers his mouth to your inner thigh, his tongue trailing a path of wetness up to your core, where he tastes you.

You gasp, your breath hitching whenever his tongue flicks your clit.

Plunging his tongue deep inside you, he tastes the sweetness of your essence. Moving back up to your clit, he sucks hard, provoking you to tremble under the pleasure.

Your fingers entangle his thick hair, tugging and pushing as waves of delight roll over your body.

Toto stares at your swollen clit and massages it gently, building an almost unbearable tension in the pit of your stomach before he slides first one finger, then two inside of you, feeling you tighten around them as he moves them in deliberate circles.

—What the fuck, you feel incredible —he mumbles against your folds. He increases his pace, sucking harder, flicking faster until you are shuddering against him, gasping for breath, about to break apart.

Your vision gets blurry as an involuntary moan escapes your lips.

—I'm so fucking close —you cry out, inarticulate with pleasure. Toto looks up and climbs back up your body, kissing and nipping at your soft flesh as he goes up until his thighs are between yours.

—You want me to make you come, don't you? —he whispers seductively, nibbling on your earlobe.

You nod, biting your lip. You need Toto to fill you, to end this unbearable craving he had built inside you.

—Please, Toto —you beg, thrusting your hips upward. A desperate whimper tears from your throat when your sexes don't meet.

Toto chuckles softly, smirking at your desperation. —Then fuck me —he murmurs, placing you on top of him, inviting you to ride him right there, inviting you to guide him inside of you. —Fuck me hard.

The feeling of him filling you up, inch by inch, sends waves of ecstasy through your body. —Oh, god, yes —you moan, encouraging him deeper.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony as you ride waves of pleasure. Toto grunts and groans with each bounce, whispering obscenities in your ear as you cowgirl him with an arched back, panting heavily. Wetness pools between you as your sweat-slicked bodies slap together rhythmically.

Toto grabs your hands and pins them behind your back, changing the angle of his thrusts. He hits a spot deep within you that sends shivers down your spine, producing a guttural moan from your lips.

He smirks at the sound and repeats the action, watching your reaction with fascination.

—Fuuck —you cry out, every muscle tensing as your fingers curl into fists.

Toto continues to plow into you, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, making your tits bounce without control, making you a mess.

You look down at him to see your bodies moving in a slick rhythm, leaving trails of sweat and lust on your skin. He looks wild, eyes burning with desire and mouth parted in a low growl as the scent of sex permeates the air around you.

You whimper as he releases one of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your hand around your breast. Your fingers tease your sensitive nipple, sending a fresh wave of sensation flooding through you.

Toto watches you touch yourself, entranced by the movement of your hand on your breast as his thrusts become erratic.

—Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful —he mutters roughly, his hips slamming into yours hard. The sound of your bodies colliding resonates throughout the room, mixing with your erratic breathing.

—You like that? —Toto asks, smirking at your eager expression. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, ready to burst at any moment.

Toto's dark eyes pierce into you, watching every twitch of your face and every moan of breath.

His thrusts become more deliberate, each one pressing into your womb.

—Fuckkk —Toto groans loudly, struggling to contain himself. His muscles tense as he gives it to you very fast; sweat drips down his face, onto his chest, and you.

—Toto! —you moan very loud as you come all over his dick.

—I need you —he confesses to you as he is about to come. You bounce hard and desperately on his cock, till you hear him grunting loud; a mess of panting Toto fills you up.

Ferrari's big anniversary is coming up next weekend, and they are set to throw the biggest party ever, a very fancy gala that will take place in Rome, or so Charles discloses to you.

—I'm actually excited for this one! —then he turns to show you the jewelry bracelet he likes before trying it on while cheerfully chit-chatting.

—This one is more your style, I like it better —you agree with his pick, as you two are out shopping.

While the sales lady adjusts it to his wrist measurements, Charles continues telling you: —This party has been in the making for so long, and all the rumors we have been hearing about it from the planners keep getting better; it honestly sounds so good!

You attentively listen to him while trying on a set of butterfly diamond earrings. Yes, you need them.

He continues: —I really wish I could take you like my plus one! But I'm taking my mom; I promised her way before meeting you.

—Oh, sweetie, no worries! But do tell me more about it. Sounds fabulous.

—Well, it will be very VIP, with only big clients, a couple of A-lister celebrities, and influential motorsports people. There's a lot of gossip about what or who will be the entertainment.

—I guess I'm not part of the big names of motorsports yet because I haven't been invited, haha. Mattia doesn't like me, isn't it?

—He is not your biggest fan, but almost no one has been invited; as far as I know, it's just the Scuderia and people Mattia considers his "paddock friends." —Charles gestures with his hands. —And some special guests with a history with the brand, like Niki. He is going! I know because Sam is his plus one; she told me yesterday.

—Maybe I should buy Ferrari to party with you at that fabulous event —you laugh it off as you sign the check for the earrings.

—And to party with Niki —Charles adds, joking.

—I heard he goes hard! —you joke back. Nowadays, if Niki stays up after 10 p.m., he considers it a wild night, in his words.

As you are about to finish your grilled salmon at that gorgeous "Gaia" restaurant in Monte Carlo, your phone buzzes on top of the white mantelpiece, grabbing your attention.

—Didn't you lose something?

—Not that I know.

—How weird, cause I have this plus one ticket with your name on it.

—Haha. You got me!

—Feeling like going to a fancy party in Rome?

—A getaway trip to Italy? SIGN ME UP! —you happily reply, already thinking about what you will wear.

Rome

As the sun descended over the iconic Roman Colosseum, flashing cameras lit the red carpet at the ancient structure's entrance.

Sleek Ferraris pull up, each more luxurious than the previous, dropping the celebrities and high-profile guests off to make their grand entrances, dressed in the most glamorous outfits and adorned in shining jewels.

Amidst all that circus, you two stay on the sidelines, watching the spectacle unfold before quietly skipping the paparazzi and splitting apart to enter the temporarily built ballroom.

—Surprise! —you extend your arms to Leclerc; he is now fresh off the red carpet, the one you avoid to keep it as discreet as possible.

A prominent smile forms on the lips of the Monagesque. —We could have shared the flight here, you know! Instead of you flying here all by yourself —Charles rolls his eyes at you and then hugs you. —I really believed you when you said you didn't get invited. You got me!

"But I didn't fly by myself!" You want to correct him on that, but you don't.

Inside, the atmosphere is as opulent as outside. Red lights illuminate the ancient structure, and lavish decorations adorn every table set. Cirque du Soleil performers move gracefully through the crowds, dazzling costumes twirling and shimmering as they entertain the guests with their mesmerizing acts.

You take in all the sights and sounds of the extravagant gala surrounding you, where motorsport legends mingle with billionaires, entertainers, engineers, celebrities, and beautiful models.

Laughter, loud music, and chatter fill the air, along with the clinking of champagne glasses.

After having a blast dancing around, chatting, and goofing an hour later, you go to look for Sam, knowing she must be somewhere around.

But the place is enormous, the crowd is big, and no luck so far; she is nowhere to be seen.

You get tired of searching for her and go to the bathroom. By this point, you have had many drinks, "Damn, that waiting line is long!"

As you try to find something to entertain you while you wait, you start scanning the place with your eyes, observing every gorgeous detail, when the silhouette of a beautiful blond woman steals your attention. Four girls in front of you in the line, there is Susie.

She is as beautiful as you expected her to be in person but more petite; she looks fit and fierce but kind. You can't help but stare at her before wondering what she is doing here. Then a "Duh! Idiot! She is a big name in motorsports!" hits you.

As you return to your table from grabbing chocolate-covered strawberries a bit later, you run into Sam.

She stares at you with the widest eyes ever, completely surprised. —What? —she lets out, standing still.

—Surprise! —you reach to hug her. —I have been looking for you all damn night! —she barely hugs you, and your big smile starts to fade away. —Is all good? —you ask, concern while looking straight at her.

—I'm so sorry, Y/N. I genuinely am —she mumbles. Samanta's features are full of dismay.

—Sam, you are worrying me.

She gestures to you to turn around.

"Oh, there is that feeling you remember so well."

That awful fucking feeling of getting your heart shattered. Like a bullet going through the flesh, a sting of pure pain as if your heart was glass and was getting crushed by a hammer, pure and profound pain as you watch Susie wrapped around Toto's neck with no inch of space in between them, standing by the Mercedes guest table, sharing soft kisses and pets.

Yet you are so skilled at hiding your feelings that it requires an expert - like Sam - to figure you out.

With a neutral face, you faintly say: —I need a moment.

—Y/N... I will go with you...

—I need a moment, I... I need to get fresh air. I will be right back —you start walking in the opposite direction to them, and Sam follows your every step.

—Y/N. I'm here for you...

—I'll be back, Sam. I need a moment, please —you make her stop following you around. So she contains herself and watches you walk away, worried about you.

Sam knows your mental health hangs from a fragile thread.

—I want a Tequila and tonic with three tequila shots in it, please —Samanta brusquely drops herself on her seat at the Mercedes guest table and asks the waiter for a heavy drink.

—That would be two, please. You have learned from the master herself. Where is she, tho? I spotted Y/N and was going to greet her, but I got distracted by a sexy lady asking for a selfie. Now I don't know where she went to —Lewis asks while looking around, trying to spot you among the crowds.

The music is loud, so conversing is challenging if you aren't near enough.

—She's outside chatting with Vettel —Charles inserts himself in the conversation between a pissed-off Sam and a clueless Lewis, arriving a bit rushed at the table and placing himself between their two chairs.

—Hi mate! —Lewis pats his arm, and half hugs him while still sitting. Charles rubs his shoulder in response.

—Hey, Sam. I made the changes you suggested to my speech. Do you approve? —Leclerc hands her a folded piece of paper; "She is out there crying" is written in big caps.

Sam and Charles exchange warry looks.

—It's perfect. I will help you practice it.

—Great idea, let's g...

A loud "ow" sound from the crowd interrupts them. A tray hits the floor loudly, followed by glasses breaking. It's all coming from far on their left.

They all turn their heads toward the noise, as does almost everyone in the entire place.

—I'm so so sorry! Oh my god! I'm an idiot! Please forgive me! —a very distraught and nervous Vettel apologizes frantically to you.

He accidentally crashed into the waiter holding a tray of wine glasses as he crossed paths with you, the ones that landed all over you, fucking up your dress, before smashing on the floor.

Which made poetic sense since you felt wounded, and now you looked like it.

You could sense Toto's eyes burning into you. You weren't supposed to be there.

Lewis gets on his feet. —Jesus, poor Y/N —and he notices how Toto looks utterly shaken by seeing you here and looking whiter than a ghost, and at that moment, he gets it. Fuck.

—Seb, Seb, SEB! —you raise your voice as Vettel keeps apologizing and talking nonstop. —It's okay, sweetie. No worries; I will go change! It's all okay.

—I'm sorry. Please forgive me; let me escort you out. It's the least I can do.

—Okay. Fine —you finally agree, looking a bit done with Seb.

You two start walking to the exit, which is all the other way around for your fucking luck. As you depart, you can hear the people whispering and staring at you.

A frozen Toto watches you walk past them, and you can't help it; for the briefest moment, you make eye contact with him before Vettel blocks the view.

—Sebastian Vettel, you are a good man —Sam whispers.

—What? —Charles reaches even closer to her.

—Y/N is not coming back. Seb was her exit out.

—Was that on purpose?!!

—Yes. That's why you saw them talking out there, for sure.

—Are they that close? Since when? I had no fucking clue.

—Since Y/N set foot on the paddock —Sam replies, knowing the whole story. —She's an expert at hiding in plain sight.

—Should we check on her? —Lewis turns to them, still on his feet, looking tense.

—Y/N will be fine; she always is —Sam says aloud for the entire table to hear. She can feel Toto's eyes on her but doesn't care to look back at him.

Vettel takes you inside a black-tinted Suburban. As the chauffeur speeds away from the Colosseum, he holds your hand and never lets it go.

Seb asks you to stay at his place so he can care for you and keep you company, and you agree.

You two cuddle in the back seat while you cry in his arms all the ride to his place.

It's a long one.

You don't know if it's because your heart is shattering into a million pieces, or because you feel vulnerable right now, or just cause Seb is such a kind and precious being that you pour all out.

You let him know everything, every single fucking detail about your fling with Torger and how you feel right now. You had never been so forthcoming with anyone about this, not even Sam.

—I'm so sorry about how the night turned out; I invited you as my plus-one with the idea of having the best time. I wish I had known all of this before! Finding it out this way, gosh, that's harsh —Seb tells you, with a mixture of mortification and sadness.

—You aren't the one who should apologize! Hey, at least we had a good time on the flight here. Thanks to you, now I want to build hundreds of hotels for the bees.

He smiles brightly before adding: —Right now, you need to rest and feel, let it all out of your system, and tomorrow start new! I'm here for you.

—Thanking for acting out that exit; you deserve an Oscar.

—I have been mistaken for Brad Pitt before, you know —he jokes to try to make you smile, but it's in vain. —You are a good actress, too.

You crash on his couch. Barely making it inside, collapsing as soon as you cross the entrance door, feeling drained.

You have experienced the "heart broke syndrome" before and know how it goes, so you needed to lie down ASAP.

After God knows how many minutes since you blacked out on the sofa, you hear a noise above you. You slightly and a bit unwillingly open your eyes to see Seb covering you with a remarkably soft blanket that feels so delicious. He drops a puffy pillow on the rug beside you and lays himself down there next to the couch.

You move to face him as he gets comfy there on the floor. —What are you doing?

—Oh, shit, did I wake you up? I'm staying here if you don't mind —he looks at you with apprehension in those stunning eyes.

—You are the sweetest —you tell him as you slowly drift off, exhausted.

As you fall asleep again, you understand now why Lewis dared risk it all for Seb and start wondering what happened to those two.

You wake up disoriented and feeling anxious.

It's still dark.

Seb is profoundly asleep and relaxed in the blueish-tinted living room, with the moonlight sneaking through the large windows.

You stay there, unable to sleep but with zero energy to move. You observe his breathing, which weirdly helps you soothe yourself when suddenly, your phone screen lights up, stealing your gaze.

You try to reach for it since Seb placed your purse and phone on the coffee table at arm's distance before going to look for an oversized T-shirt that could work you as pajamas.

It's a simple text from Toto. "Can I please talk to you?"

As you navigate your phone, you notice many missed calls from Sam, Charles, and Lewis.

Well, now it's clear communication and sincerity weren't your thing. You weren't one of those couples.

Were you even a couple?

"Maybe it's best this way," is all you reply to him before turning your phone off.

Tears start coming down again as your phone screen dims and fades to black again.

The following day, Seb offers you to stay for as long as you wish, and you will take his word for it.

You don't feel like returning to the city you share with Toto; it's way too risky for you to be in Monaco.

You need time to compose yourself. A lot is about to happen soon, and you need to be at your best. You can't fail. To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

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ruhorih4ra · 26 days ago

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Now, finally. After being chingue y chingue con que ya era la última parte. This is the final part. Heavely hungry and sleepless I arrive to the end of this fanfic.

Thank you to all the readers for bearing with me, I know that I was mame y mame with the grammar mistakes but it's because I cannot avoid thinking that I'm making a fool of myself.

Believe me when I say I do this for fun, but given that I run out of motivation quite fast I kept writing because your comments.

Thanks to all of you and please wish me luck tomorrow cause I'll be a working zombie.

GET OUT OF MY WAY 🌈

You couldn't move. Worse than that, you were trapped in a demonic oven, cooking yourself alive. Every part of your body was sweating, you could feel it on your forehead, your wet hair sticking to your face.

“I can't sleep.” You said but your complaints were met with silence. “I can’t sleep because of you.” Once again, you received no response. It's not that this situation was unexpected, but for some reason you thought it wouldn't happen so soon, at least not until you had talked about the elephant in the room.

You were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on your door, not a second later the door opened to reveal a hunched over and disheveled Belphegor dragging his pillow. Behind him was Beelzebub, dressed in thin black pants and a simple white shirt. “Let's have a sleepover.” Belphie mumbled, throwing himself onto the bed but hanging in the air instead thanks to Beel holding his hoodie. “Only if you want.” Beel added with a serious expression.

You tried to fight off Beelzebub’s pleading eyes but, it was a cold night. “Fine, but don’t eat in my bed.” The redhead smiled widely, nodding a few times before releasing Belphie. Beelzebub could make any bed look like a crib, especially your old single little bed. “Where am I supposed to sleep now, hm?” Still with a smile on his face he simply opened his arms, an offer you accepted gladly. It was nice to lie on top of him listening to the soft beat of his heart, feeling Belphie’s arms around you.

“Good night, Mc.” You heard his voice hoarse from sleep.

It was an hour later when the door opened and you felt someone else climb onto the bed, making Belphie snarl in the process. The smell of Mammon's shampoo filled the room. “Night.” He murmured, giving you a quick peck, lying down next to you too.

Fifteen minutes later, you felt someone make space between you and Belphie, waking up the Avatar of Sloth again. The softness of his skin and the scent of roses told you who the culprit was. “Sweet dreams, dear.” He kissed your forehead.

“Good night everyone.” Your eyes were on the door, already prophesying the appearance of another demon. The seconds passed without any interruption, except the casual movement of one of the giant demons trying to fit better, however the door remained closed.

It was starting to get hot, but the calm breathing and cozy atmosphere lulled you to sleep.

The tight grip of Levi's tail on your right leg woke you up, he was sleeping soundly in the middle of your legs hugging it like a pillow. “When did he arrive?”

“We got here at the same time.” Satan answered, he was sitting on the other side of the bed. You looked at him long before actually understand his words. “You can’t sleep like that, Satan.”

Truth is that nobody could. The bed was too small to fit seven bodies, not only that but they were heavy and the poor bed base was about to give up. You could practically hear the wood cry, and so could the brothers. “Some of you have to go.” You stated, eyes looking at the ceiling.

“Beel weighs more than all of us.” Mammon said immediately. “I arrived first.” Beel was quick to reply. “Then Satan and Levi should leave, they were the last.” Asmo didn’t bother to remove the blindfold sleep mask. “I’ll throw you out of bed, Asmo.” Satan warned. “You can try, Mr. Grumpy pants.” You heard something fly and land beside you with more force than expected from a pillow. “Ouch! My face you beast!”

“I have an idea, let’s play rock, pape-” You heard how Mammon’s soul and air left his body and lungs respectively. “Hey! Stop biting my leg, Belphie, I know you’re awake!” That had to be Levi. Your bed suddenly became a fighting ring where you couldn’t see anything, Beel’s arms were your only anchor in the middle of the chaos since no one dared to mess with him.

However, it all came to an end when the door opened.

Only his silhouette could be seen as the light outside hid him but everyone knew who he was, the way they stopped like scared opossums was proof of that. “Could you please explain what’s going on here?” But it was a protocol question, he already knew everything there was to know. In fact, since he started his daily routine check and found out that the twins’ room was empty, guessing the rest had been easy.

“Come here, Mc.” He took you from Beelzebub’s arms, surprising not only you but everyone. “Hey! Where are ya takin’em?” “Lucifer! It’s so not fair!” He carried you like a toddler, with your legs on either side and your arms around his neck. “Lucifer?” You asked, evidently a little taken aback by the turn of events. “Pffftt. They’re following us like a bunch of weirdos. Like a cult or something.” You yawned as you rested your head on his shoulder.

When Lucifer arrived to his room, you expected him to crash the door or cast a locking spell, but he just left you on the bed and asked Mammon to close the door. One by one they took a place on the bed, vaguely reminding you the image of a cat testing the ground. You expected more fights and disagreements, but instead the lights went out and you founded yourself lying comfortably on a spacious bed, surrounded by all of them in no time.

Something inside you, kept you awake. Lying on your back your eyes were glued to the ceiling and not even Belphie’s influence defeated your insomnia. “Close your eyes, Mc. You’re scaring me.” Mammon murmured in your ear but you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“I want to, I missed you all like you can’t even begin to imagine,” Your words were cut off when Satan interrupted you, “Not as much as we did.” You wanted to see him but it was too dark, you couldn’t even distinguish between them. Still, you were convinced everyone was wide awake.

“Nobody has never loved me like you.” You murmured, letting your confession sink softly into the room. “We had a rough start. Sc is right when she says that our love is somehow twisted. I’ve thought about it too, maybe loving you is a disease and I’m crazy because I reject the medicine.” Mammon hid his face in your neck, getting closer to you.

“But I love you despite logic or reason.” You felt your voice fail and took a deep breath before continuing. “It wasn't my fault. The Little D's.” Your speech, you noted, was becoming messy and incoherent, nothing like you have planned. “But I’ve decided that I can’t love you anymore if that can destroy you.”

The brothers had listened to you in apparent calm until they heard those words. They understand human values, principles and logic, even the way they conduct themselves too, but only to a certain point and more often than not you exceed it. They don’t want to lose you, not again, not ever. They would rather be Icarus than live in eternal darkness.

“We know it was the witch's fault.” Mammon said with no malice or resentment but with great desperation. “We weren’t trying to hurt you!” Belphie said, his voice sounded pained as if the words were cutting his mouth as they came out.

“I know, but you hurt me either way and I hurt you too!” You put a hand over your eyes, covering them. You felt Mammon’s tears on your neck and immediately felt guilty. He was one of the most affected, constantly fighting his guilt for he sees himself as your ‘failed protector’.

“Yes, Sc released them but she was trying to do her work. You were playing with her.”

“We weren’t.” Lucifer asseverated. “We wanted to know her intentions.” Satan added. “That's not the whole truth. You knew her intentions all along, you just wanted to destroy her plans and send a message.”

“And what message would that be?” Lucifer asked, and you could sense how it turned out defensive. “That you want the three worlds to coexist, yes, but on your own terms.”

A silence fell over the room as soon as you said it.

“Do you really think humans are ready to know about The Devildom?” Lucifer was the first to sit up. You followed him, trying to look at his face through the darkness. In that sense they had a clear advantage, although they could see you perfectly fine, you could only see a shadow, a copycat, an impersonator. “And why are you the ones who decide?”

“Answer me, Mc.” Lucifer pressed. Mammon sat up too, hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder. “Of course we're not ready, but that didn't stop Diavolo from breaking into our world!”

Again, your words echoed in the silence of the room along with the muffled gasps of Levi and Asmo.

“This is what we were trying to avoid.” The Avatar of Pride said, he tried to leave the bed. Poor Asmo felt the air leaving his lungs when Lucifer pushed him out of his way.

“If you leave,” You said, your voice weak and weary. “If you leave now, I swear I'll go to the human world and I won't ever come back here. You will never see me again, not in this life.” Lucifer stopped short, you couldn’t see his face but his voice alone crushed your heart. “That’s cruel, Mc.”

“You don’t leave me any choice! You refuse to speak and I don’t want to pretend this never happened because it did and I’m scared because I don’t want to experience this again!”

“...”

“I can't see you, I'm the only one in this room who can't see in the dark. I'm only human. There are so many things I can't do compared to you, but I am not weak or stupid, I’m a sorcerer and the bridge between the three worlds.”

Lucifer had wanted to tell you the truth for a long time, but hearing you now, being able to see your resolve and the fire within your eyes made him regret his hesitation. Solomon knew it, and that’s why he was so arrogant all the time, he knew that humans can be dangerous too.

If only you knew, he wonders if you’d smile like the wise sorcerer.

“Don't underestimate us, look at me as your equal, this is an order.” You finished, looking at the white sheets and averting the brothers’ forms. “Love does not stand on uneven ground.”

All the brothers had seen what Lucifer saw, the strength and stubbornness that characterize humans, the promise to die fighting for what one loves and wasn’t that the reason they fell? Once again they came to the same conclusion, when it comes to love, demons, angels or humans are no different.

They too would die fighting for what they love and weren’t you the proof of that? Ever since you appeared in the Devildom you are equals, you don’t need more evidence than a mirror, even if you can’t realize it yet.

And if you were not her descendant you would still be one of the creatures she loved so much, and if she had never loved a human and they only knew you as a coincidence of fate you would still be you and that is more than enough for them to love you.

One by one, each of them joined you in a hug. Finally, the elephant in the room was as big as a mini Little D. “We were scared, at least I know I was. I wanted to protect you and also protect us, what we have” Satan said, speaking awkwardly like few times in his life.

“As the Great Admiral of Hell’s Navy I can tell you that we kept you out of this because we didn’t want to risk our sole reason to fight.” Leviathan’s eyes were closed, he was enjoying the clarity and courage that your soul was giving him. “We took the wrong route.” He added.

When the hug broke, you couldn’t shake the feeling that part of you had gone with them and part of them had stayed with you. “Stay by our side, please, allow us to show you our resolve.” The older brother took your hand, waiting for a response.

You suffered another huge, crushing hug when you gave them one.

***

Everyone was having a good time. The castle had never been more inviting, more homely. Lucifer and Mammon were fighting over the music while Luke tried to keep Beelzebub and Solomon out of the kitchen. Normality, once again.

“We are sorry, Mc. We promise they are our far, far, very distant cousins!” The Little D. number 2 said, he was mortified, constantly hiding from you and trying to announce his presence every time he appeared on the scene just so he wouldn't scare you.

“They're awful! A pest! we would never be like them!” The Little D. number 5 added, taking off his hat, his eyes were curved in a gesture that could not mean anything other than regret. “We would never hurt you!!” The Little D. number 6 murmured.

“Don't worry guys, I know you'd never hurt me. You are much kinder and more adorable than them.” You reassured them, patting the head of one of them.

“Of course they wouldn't hurt you, you’d mop the floor with them.” Barbatos said. Whether it was because of his words, his sadistic smile, or the mere fact that he was Barbatos, the Little D.'s ran as soon as he arrived.

“You shouldn't be so hard on them, you scare them.” One thing was true, even if they were family-friendly shaped, you still felt the need to be alert.

“Don't worry Mc, I assure you that I'm not, under any circumstance, stricter than necessary.” Barbatos watched the little demons going from one place to another, serving their guests as best as they could. “It must be difficult for you to look at them.”

“Are you perhaps testing me again?” You asked, so quietly that it was hidden by the music, only the butler heard you and even he had to read your lips to make sure. Barbatos was speechless. It was clear how angry you were but your words didn't match with your calm and steady voice, with your happy and carefree expression. You reminded him of a certain angel.

“I’m surprised you think I would do something so reckless.” He opted for a serious face, leaving behind his usual smile. “No?”

“No.”

“You saw me and those demons, didn't you? you knew what was happening and you did nothing. Why?” You asked, drinking the expensive liquid that could get a demon drunk but wouldn’t even tickle a human.

“Because that's not what you wanted.” Barbatos simply said, curious as to why it seems like you trust him even less than when you found out he had the power to alter the timelines. “Really?” You asked, incredulous.

“I don’t know why I can’t believe you,” You got closer to Barbatos, face to face, your eyes meeting his. “I don’t believe you. If I hadn’t defeated them, wouldn't you have changed the timelines again?”

Ah, a sensible question that hid more interrogatives of the same nature. He knew from the look in your eyes that it wasn’t the first time you’d asked yourself that. It was inevitable, you are a human.

Still, Barbatos couldn't pinpoint what was the ache inside him. He couldn't comprehend why he felt so utterly sad when you talked to him in that way, as if all his presence could offer you were headaches.

“But what am I saying? you didn't do anything because you knew I was going to win.” A part of Barbatos was surprised by how accusatory your voice sounded, maybe facing death gave you enough stupid courage to facing him. “I didn't know.” One brief look into your eyes and he knew your inner turmoil, asking yourself if you should believe him or not.

“I decided to wait and see.” Nobody was paying attention to what seem like a normal conversation but he still felt judged, sooner than later he realized why. In a way, you were scolding him and, in a way, he felt miserable. That was new for him too.

“Why?” You asked. “Because that's what you wanted.” He said and his smile found its way onto his lips again. You reminded him of Solomon before he became the wise sorcerer, how hopeless he was in the face of so much power. “Does that mean you trust me with all of this?” He didn’t have time to answer, you embraced him first, mumbling a feeble thank you.

He could only think one thing, for the way his heart skipped a beat, he should be careful around you.

You turned around and walked towards the brothers, little by little you felt how the war inside you subsided. Lucifer seemed calmer than ever tying Mammon from the highest candelabra. Leviathan and Luke were fighting over who should try Solomon’s dish first, Asmo and Satan laughing at them. Beelzebub devouring the entire menu and Belphie sleeping next to Lilith.

Lilith. You frowned, your eyebrows dropped and your eyes filled with unshed tears. As your lips trembled and your face etched with sadness, you lost sight of her. Before you could think it had been an illusion you felt like something you couldn’t see was hugging you. “You were right, I didn’t have to worry.” Lilith disappeared with a smile on her face and the wink of an eye, leaving you smiling.

Before you could reach the others, you heard a cacophony of screams and things breaking just a few steps away from you; All the Little D.s were chasing a little black ball no bigger than the palm of your hand. The Mini Little D. of Pride that had been captured in the magic bird cage.

He stood in front of you, raising and pointing an adorable finger at your face.

“You!” He screamed, and as laughable as it was, he looked angry.

You sighed, happier than ever. “Really, just get out of my way.”

FIN.

Taglist: @yuumaofc @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @exrellian @cutestpatoootie @fandumshippr @frenchmess23yo @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

#obey me #obey me fandom #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me little d #obey me asmodeus

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collapsedglasshouses · 10 months ago

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Like The Movies || Vinny Mauro x fem!Reader [Part 2]

SUMMARY: After the events on the couch, Y/n doesn't know how to talk to her best friend anymore and decides to call him late at night, with a different outcome than expected.

WARNINGS: smut, MDNI, phone sex, masturbation, mutual pining, friends to fwb sorta, …

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @jilliemiw86 @dominuslunae

A/N: Whoa, so this took longer than I expected but here is the long awaited Part Two. I'm planing on writing a third final part but don't ask me when it will come out, idk yet sorry c: also this isnt proofread :c

You couldn’t even remember a time where Vinny and you hadn’t been best friends. In all those years you always had been each other’s comfort zone. Nothing ever had the power to separate the bond you two had created. Except the two of you yourself of course.

At the moment, you were nervously fidgeting with your fingers while waiting for Vinny to get into his car. You had spent the evening at Ricky’s house for a small birthday celebration and everything had seemed normal. You had walked there since the weather had been pretty good, but it had gotten pretty late, and nobody was comfortable with you walking home at this point, so Vinny, being your best friend and neighbor, had offered to drive you.

Nothing about this seemed out of the usual for the others, but you were almost shaking with nervousness. It had already been a week since the events on your couch and nobody had dared to say a word about it. It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked at all. Everything seemed normal, except the two of you tapping around the obvious elephant in the room. You felt like you were being tortured for seven days straight at this point. You didn’t know how Vinny could act so calm about the whole thing, while you were about to explode into a million pieces.

Your thoughts were consumed by him. It felt like your brain had been wired differently since that night. All you could think about was Vinny. It wasn’t only the sexual scene that happened literally in front of your eyes. It was everything. His voice, his smile, the way he made you laugh. Everything.

Once Vinny had said his goodbyes to everyone left and slipped inside his car, it was just the two of you left. You instantly felt how goosebumps started to form on your skin when you inhaled the faint smell of his perfume. You felt how your heart was racing just with him near you and you were sure you were about to go insane, rather sooner than later.

The car ride was quiet, the only sound coming from Vinny tapping along to the music on the steering wheel. You tried not to look to closely at his hands, since even that gave you a warm feeling in your stomach. Your mind wondered back to that night. After receiving that text from Vinny, you felt like you were on fire. You had tried to ignore it, but it was hard. Vinny had called you that night and you streamed one of this dinosaur documentaries as if nothing had happened. As if you hadn’t watched each other cum. You had decided after that, that you needed to push your feelings away even further.

You really tried not to think about it too much. You didn’t even know what to expect from that situation.

So now, a week later, you were sitting in your shared driveway and stared straight ahead. You had never been more unsure of anything in your life like you were right now, and it hurt you, because Vinny was the one stable thing in your existence, and you had collectively decided to ruin it because of the heat of the moment.

Right as Vinny took a breath to say something, you snapped out of your thoughts. “Thanks. Good night.”

With that you sprinted out of his car and into your house, fearing for a second, he would go after you.

Two hours later you sat on your bed and toyed with your phone in your hand. Your thoughts were eating you alive. You didn’t know what came over you when you opened the Discord App to check for the fifth time if he was still online.

“Fuck, he’s still Vinny. Don’t be so childish.” You mumbled to yourself before you touched the call button.

Almost instantly you heard his voice on the other end. “To what do I owe the honor?”

You felt like you were frozen into your place. His voice alone made you crumble into pieces.

“Hi.” You mumbled shyly.

“Hi back.” He answered you and mimicked your shy undertone. You weren’t sure if he was trying to mock you.

“So… What’s up?” Vinny asked again, now in a more relaxed tone while you felt stiffer than ever.

“I-… You know… I-…” You began to stumble over your words, regretting you hadn’t thought about what to say to him before calling.

“Yeees?” He teased you and you knew he was grinning slightly. You wanted nothing more than to walk over and slap it out of his pretty face.

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Vin!” You almost cried into your phone and ran a hand through your hair.

It was silent for a long time.

“Did you think about it?” He suddenly asked into the void.

“Think about what?” You breathed out, knowing exactly what he meant but not wanting to give it away.

“That night.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your body. You didn’t think the subject would turn this fast.

“You mean if I thought about you touching yourself in front of me?” You boldly asked, smiling slightly at your sudden and unexpected confidence.

“Uhm… Something like that.” Vinny almost stuttered, causing your smile to become even broader.

It was silent again.

“And?”

“Have you?” You asked him and leaned back on your bed.

“I asked first.” – “I asked second.”

You felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest any second. Never in your entire life had you been more turned on simple by the tone of the voice of someone.

“I have.” Vinny answered after a short while, his voice way raspier than it was before.

“Me too.” You mumbled and immediately your mind snapped back to that night. You just couldn’t get this picture out of your head. Vinny, with his hand wrapped around his hard member, breathing out your name between slight moans.

“Did you touch yourself today?” Vinny than asked with slight hesitation in his voice.

“I haven’t…” You answered and immediately became bold again. “Yet.”

“Do you want to?” Vinny asked. You bit your lip for a second, trying to suppress the smile forming on your face.

“I plan to… Yeah.”

“You want any help?” He mumbled casually as if he was offering to help you clean your house or something.

“You can’t come over. I have to get up early tomorrow.” You answered him honestly and hoped you didn’t scare him away with your comment. You wanted him to come over, but you knew it would ruin the last bit of sleep you would get.

“Noone said anything about coming over.” He answered you and you could picture the grin that was plastered on his face in said moment. You wanted to scream into your pillow.

“What are you thinking about?” You whispered sweetly into your phone while settling deeper into your pillow.

“Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to touch you?” Vinny wanted to know, ignoring your question. Blood rushed in your ears as you remembered the moment, when you exclaimed you wanted it to be his fingers instead of yours.

You opened your legs beneath your blanket and let your hand ran down your body.

“Yes, I did mean it.” You breathed out. “Did you want me to touch you?”

“Fuck… Of course. Have you looked at yourself?” Vinny almost moaned out and you were sure he was touching himself at this point, so your hand started to travel between your thighs.

Your heart stutters at his low voice.

“I hoped you would say that.” You whispered into the phone. Vinny let out a low laugh.

“If I’m being honest, the last couple of times weren’t the first time, I thought of you while masturbating but god… I can’t get you out of my mind anymore.” Vinny explained with so much honesty in his voice that you couldn’t help yourself but to touch your most sensitive spot.

“When you were thinking of me…what was I doing?” You asked him, realizing your voice became breathier at this point.

“If I’m being honest, it’s the little things. How you look in your favorite dress, how you look when you bend down, how your cheeks get red every time someone slightly compliments you.” He answered you and let out a small hum after that.

“Really? Just that?” You asked him, shocked about how just simple gestures could turn him on.

“No. Today I came so hard while thinking of you being under me. Moaning out my name.” He answered as you circled your clit a bit faster. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him thinking about you while masturbating and then going to meet you right after that.

“Oh, Vinny.” You breathed out.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” He teased you. “What about you?”

“I thought about your hands.” You honestly exclaimed. “I mean… You play the drums like a fucking god. Can’t help myself thinking about how your fingers would feel inside of me.”

Another groan came from Vinny, and you let your finger swirl around your clit.

“Oh yeah? Gosh, I wonder how your pussy feels like.” He said with a serious tone, but you can’t help but giggle.

“What?” – “That’s what the guy said in the porn, too.”

“As far as I can remember, you liked that pretty much.” He teased you.

“I wasn’t denying it.” You answered him with a smile on your face and let a finger sink into your hole.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” Vinny stumbled out shyly.

“Of course, I am and I know you’re doing it, too.” You moaned.

You heard some shuffling noises and couldn’t help but think about him sitting in front of his computer with his hand around his cock.

“If you keep making these noises, I will come over.” Vinny breathed out on the other line while your pace became faster.

“Maybe I want you to.” – “I value your sleep, darling.”

‘Darling’… He was driving you insane.

“I wish that was my hand on your cock right now.” You moaned into your phone.

“You have no fucking clue, do you? The effect you have on people.” His breathing was getting more prominent, and you felt your own pick up.

“Or my mouth.” You whispered after his statement and heard him moan. Tension started to form in your stomach, another finger sinking into you.

“Vinny.” You gasped and he moaned into your ear through the phone. Your fingers curled up onto the sweet spot you’d found while thinking of his hard cock. You wanted to feel him so bad.

“Please tell me you’re close, Y/n.” He almost whined out.

“I am.” You moaned into your phone, chasing your high.

“I want to feel you so bad.” Vinny whined, speaking out your own thoughts. “I can hear how wet you are for me.”

“Oh god.” You exhaled as your hips started to stutter. “Fuck, Vinny.”

“It’s like I had a taste of the forbidden fruit. I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned.

“Have me then.” You whine out, your voice weak and laced with unsaid words. Everything neither of you had dared to say before.

Your hips buck against your hand as you cried out. “God, Vinny!”

“Are you cumming?” His voice so determined and raw but all you could do was nod, though he couldn’t see you. Though, you didn’t have to say something. Your breaths revealed the truth.

“Fuck…that was…oh fuck,” you tried to answer him as you started to come down from your orgasm, still not in full control of your body functions.

“You sound so fucking good. I just… Gosh, Y/n...” You could imagine how he started to thrust his hips slightly upwards, cum coating his hand.

You hear him shuffle again and breathe heavily into his microphone just as your head became clearer again.

It was silent for a longer period of time. Both of you trying to contain your thoughts.

Suddenly you began to feel nervous.

“That was-…” Vinny breathed out.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you-…” – “Yeah, I should probably get some sleep.”

“See you tomorrow?” He quietly asked. “You could come over and we could watch a movie or something. Tomorrow night?”

Your heart started to beat heavily again. It would be the first time you would be around each other alone since the evening after he came back from tour, and you started to wonder how it would go.

“See you tomorrow, Vin.”

“Good night, darling.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white fanfiction #vinny mauro x fem!reader #vinny mauro x reader smut #vinny mauro x you #vinny mauro fanfiction #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro smut #vinny mauro fic #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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