Downshift

So like queen idk if u have instagram but like recently the leclercs went to Mexico so can we maybe get smthn REALLL angsty where its like carlos x leclerc reader and she’s not too close to the family. (not on her part mainly charles and arthur) and they go on vacation without telling her and she’s like sad. You can have more ending if u want

💐 anon

a/n: okay, let me know if this is what you wanted. because I understand the point but not too much.

Left Behind

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part 2

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

summary: left out of a family vacation, you confront Carlos about the secrecy and the growing distance with your brothers. Tensions rise, but Carlos’ heartfelt apology offers a chance for reconciliation and understanding.

warnings: angst, themes of exclusion and insecurity, emotional confrontation.

The early morning sunlight crept through the curtains of your shared apartment in Mónaco, but the warmth on your face did little to ease the growing heaviness in your chest. You scrolled through Instagram absentmindedly, your feed filled with glimpses of familiar faces. Your brother, Charles and Arthur. Both smiling and laughing under the mexican sun.

Charles had posted a picture of himself sipping on a cocktail by the pool, Arthur had shared a video of their group riding ATVs through the desert, and then there was Carlos—your boyfriend of two years—posing in the same photos, his trademark smile shining brighter than the sun.

And yet, no one had told you about the trip.

Not a single word.

Your throat tightened as you swiped through the posts. You hadn’t even known they were leaving Monaco, let alone heading off to Mexico. What hurt most wasn’t the secrecy — it was the reminder that, despite your efforts, you were still an outsider in your own family.

You’d always known that Charles and Arthur shared a bond you could never quite penetrate. They were close, the kind of brothers who had their own language, their own inside jokes. As their sister, you loved them deeply, but there had always been a sense of distance, a silent barrier that set you apart.

And Carlos… he had fit into their world so seamlessly. You’d seen it from the beginning, the way he joked with Charles like they’d been friends forever, the way Arthur looked up to him. Sometimes it felt like Carlos belonged with them more than he belonged with you.

You sighed, setting your phone aside and staring blankly at the ceiling. The questions swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Why didn’t they tell me? Did they think I wouldn’t care? Or… did they just not want me there?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Carlos walked in, a small carry-on bag in hand. His face lit up when he saw you, but his smile faltered when he noticed the expression on your face.

—Mi amor. —he greeted, stepping closer. —What’s wrong?

You crossed your arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. —You tell me, Carlos. How was Mexico?

His eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your tone. —Mexico? How did you—

—Instagram. —you interrupted, holding up your phone. —Charles and Arthur have been posting non-stop. Seems like everyone had a great time. Everyone but me.

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. —I can explain—

—Can you? —you snapped, your voice trembling.

—It wasn’t like that. —Carlos began, his tone pleading. —It was a last-minute thing. Charles invited me—

—And you didn’t think to invite me?

Carlos hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. —It wasn’t my place to invite you. It was your family’s trip, not mine.

The words stung, each one hitting like a blow to the chest. —My family —you repeated bitterly. —Right. The family that always makes me feel like I don’t belong.

Carlos stepped closer, his expression softening. —That’s not true—”

—Isn’t it? —you challenged, tears brimming in your eyes. —They didn’t want me there, Carlos. And you went along with it. Do you have any idea how that feels?

He reached for you, but you took a step back. —I thought you were on my side. I thought… I thought I could count on you.

—Mi amor… —Carlos said softly, his voice heavy with regret. —I never wanted to hurt you. If I had known this would upset you—

—You should have known —you cut him off. —You should have thought about how I’d feel. But you didn’t.

The tension in the air was suffocating, the silence between you deafening. Finally, Carlos broke it.

—You’re right —he admitted in a whisper.

His apology caught you off guard, the sincerity in his voice cutting through your anger. You looked at him, searching for any hint of dishonesty, but all you saw was regret.

—I love you —he continued, stepping cautiously closer. —And I never want you to feel like you’re not enough. Not with me, not with anyone.

Your resolve faltered, but his words didn’t fill the emptiness in your chest. You took a small step back, letting the distance between you speak for itself.

—I don’t know if it’s that simple, Carlos —you whispered, avoiding his gaze. —I can’t keep feeling like an outsider.

Carlos froze, his expression pained. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. He took a breath, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

—I’ll do whatever it takes. —he said quietly. —But only if you let me.

You didn’t respond, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. The love you felt for him was still there, but so was the hurt, the lingering doubt.

Carlos nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with understanding—and fear. —Take all the time you need.

He didn’t try to close the distance again, and you didn’t move to close it either. Instead, you stood there, two people caught in the uncertainty of what came next.

The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the city outside, a reminder that the world kept turning even as yours felt stuck in limbo.

Carlos Sainz Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ Between Karts and Confessions

- in which carlos and the reader race in karts, leading to a surprising confession and a deeper connection.

⌗ Left Behind

- in which carlos faces guilt and doubt after you confront him about being excluded.

…

Clarisse La Rue Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

⌗ Behind the Armor

HERE

- in which clarisse la rue is known for her strength and toughness, but when it’s just the two of you, she lets down her guard

Midnight at Club 30

 Michael Jackson

Synopsis: Your loving husband is not as honest as he claims to be. Tonight, you find out exactly what he's been hiding.

Pairing: Mafia boss!Michael Jackson x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: Some sweating. Michael is nonchalant here ewww

Drea's note: I had so much fun writing this! Constructive criticism and suggestion are welcome in my inbox. Thank you for the request, babe. <3

March 1st, 1932

22:00

You take a deep breath in as you examine your surroundings. You can’t believe you’re going on a date with a man your friend, Aubrey, set you up with.

It had been a long time since your separation from your long-time boyfriend. The split was painful. You remember it every so often; sometimes the emotions of the split build up at random times of your day, leaving you teary and shaking with sadness. He promised you the world. Maybe that was the first sign of his infidelity. No man promises a woman the world three months into a relationship. It was all bull from the beginning, but could you have known? You were in your late teens, naive and lovestruck. You couldn’t have known.

Now, here you are, in front of Club 30, in a shimmery black dress, draped with a white fur shawl and sleek golden heels. Your hair is beautifully done in a top bun with a few loose curls draped behind your ears. You fiddle with one of the multiple rings you have on, contemplating whether you should go in. You take in one final breath before pushing open the heavy oak doors, ready for whatever the late night has in store for you.

The bass of the jazz band rumbles through the smokey air as you walk in. You notice a large crowd on the dance floor. Their bodies rock from side to side to the rhythm of the 4-count music. To the left are several tables designed for an assembly of friends. The booths are decorated in a simple brown leather with each table covered with wine-red cloths designed to give you an intimate feel as friends conversation.

There are 4 young men there right now. Their head all turned to you. You give them a small smile which excites them butyou ignore it and look to your right. That way is the bar. That’s where you’re expected. You clear your throat and slowly walk to the bar before taking a seat on one of the many high barstools. The array of alcohol beautifully decorates the large wall before you. From wine to whiskey, it’s all gracefully shelved, disguising the liquid poison as something beautiful.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The bartender interrupts your thoughts. His smile was genuine and calm, indicating his expertise in customer service.

You return the smile, your red lipstick morphing into a gracious grin as you speak. “I’m not too sure what to order. Any suggestions?”

“Of course, ma’am. Do you have a taste for a sweet or bitter drink?” He leans on the counter, clearly taken aback by your allure.

“Sweet, please.”

“I would suggest a lemonade or strawberry daiquiri.” He looks you up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Strawberry, please.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as he nods before turning around to prepare your drink.

While the bartender works on your beverage, you fix your gaze on the large clock. 22:10. Aubrey had said your date would be by the bar by 22:00 but he’s not here yet. You decide to shrug it off and wait a little longer.

“Here you are, ma’am. A strawberry daiquiri.” He carefully slides the drink your way with a wink.

You take a long sip through the paper straw. The sweetness of the strawberry fizz compliments the thick rum. You’re quiteimpressed by the taste. Having never drank this before, your tongue enjoys every drop of it, and soon enough, you’re asking for another one.

22:30.

You huff.

“Are you expecting someone?” The bartender inquires, sliding you your second daiquiri.

“Yes, I am, but I’m afraid I’ve been stood up.” You take a sip of your drink with a frown.

“That happens here quite a lot, unfortunately,” he starts, “Just a few hours ago, an older lady sat here with me and waited for her date to arrive. Alas, he never did.”

You sigh and nod. Maybe the same fate had met you.

“Don’t fret. I’m sure he would have been a waste of time anyway.” He grins, tapping his fingers on the marble counter.

You nod again, accepting your circumstances. Instead of moping about your current fate, you turn to face the band across the bar. They play a more upbeat tune now. Something that has the dance floor cheering and whistling. The sight lifts your mood. Your head begins to rock to the rhythm.

“You should join the crowd, let loose!” The bartender encourages you.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you lean back to turn the suggestion down.

“Oh come on, ma’am. I’m sure you’re great at it. Plus, why come to Club 30 if not to dance? This is the place to dance, and I know*-”*

The bartender’s words are cut off as he notices the large oak doors open again. The thick, smokey air in the club shifts, as if it’s being controlled by something greater than it; something that makes the jazz band mess up rhythmic jam.

“Oh no. Tonight of all nights?” He whispers behind you and you fix your gaze towards the two large men who you assume are bodyguards.

Before you can respond, another man walks in. He’s dressed differently from the black-suited large men behind him. You glance at his white tailored suit. The expensive fabric hugs his slim figure perfectly, accentuating his toned arms and legs. Beneath his white suit jacket is a soft pastel blue shirt sleekly complimented by a white tie. His hair, curly, thick, and longis topped off with a white fedora. His presence has undoubtedly changed the club’s mood. What you cannot decipher is if this shift is a good or bad one. What you do know, however, is that his arrival has garnered the attention of everyone in the club.

As swiftly as he arrived, his bodyguards escorted him to the far corner of the club. He sits between them as if he is royalty of some sort. He examines the room, seated in the perfect place to see every corner of the club; to see you.

You hadn’t noticed that you were staring at him the entire time he had sat there until he finally fixed his gaze on you. With a nervous smile, you wave at him. He tilts his head, but before he can do anything else, his table is surrounded by a cluster of girls ready to throw themselves at him.

“I wouldn't if I were you. That man is trouble.”

You turn to face the bartender whose face is painted with concern.

“Why’s that?” You smile inquisitively.

“He’s known for doing shady business around these parts of Chicago. Rumour has it that he’s taken a life just outside the club, in the back ally”

You scoff.

“I doubt that's true. If it was, we’d see news of a death on the papers, no?”

Before the bartender could answer, one of the large men from the corner table tapped you on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ma’am. My boss would like to speak with you.” The large man speaks with an even tone.

You look at the bartender who shakes his head in disagreement with the request, but you; not having anything better to do here; smile and stand up to follow the black-suited man.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” You reassure the bartender before you walk to the designated table.

A dozen eyes watch you as you make it to the alluring man. The girls that once squealed with excitement at his arrival now fix their eyes on you with bitter jealousy. That doesn't stop the white-suited man from motioning you to sit beside him. You slowly scoot your way onto the leather seat, sitting just a few inches away from him.

“Leave us.” He commands, and as if they’re filled with fear, the two bodyguards make their way to the dance floor. The girls, on the other hand, linger.

“All of you. Now.” His voice is stern now, his piercing gaze scaring the girls away with those simple words.

Now, you’re left alone with him. With nobody around, his scent floods your nostrils. A deep sage with a mix of vanilla surrounds him. What an intoxicating scent, one you could inhale for aeons.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone at this hour?” He asks.

His voice is surprisingly softer than the tough visual that he is. He shifts closer to you, closing the gap you had left before looking you dead in the eyes. His deep brown eyes glisten in the mellow lighting of the club. Something is confusing about those eyes. They appear so innocent, but something in them hints at a darker reality.

“I- I had a date tonight,” you fidget with your rings, “regrettably, he never showed.”

He takes a slow sip of his drink, which you’ll come to learn is whiskey. His gaze never leaves yours as he drinks.

“What a foolish man he is to leave a woman hanging like that, especially a woman of your…stature.”

You giggle. He loves that. The sound of your giggle eggs him on.

“My stature?” You probe and he nods.

“An enchanting woman like you shouldn’t be treated so poorly.”

You’re taken aback by his words. Looking away from him you fiddle with your rings. He notices this and gently places his hand on yours. You look at. It’s much larger than yours with veins travelling to and fro. You look up surprised and are greeted by a soft grin.

“The name’s Michael. Michael Jackson. Yours?”

Without a second to waste you tell him yours. His smile brightens at your response, a few crinkles surround his eyes as he smiles.

“It’s very nice to meet you, darlin'.” Michael whispers into your ear in a sultry tone, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Now, tell me. What nonsense was our little bartender telling you about me, hmm?” He leans back into the leather seat.

“That you’re trouble.” You shrug bluntly, tapping your slim fingers on the table before you.

“Oh really?” He motions for his bodyguard, “What kind of trouble did he say I am?

Before you answer, he whispers something to his bodyguard before shooing him away. You watch the large man walk to the bar.

“That you’ve done some shady business here and even…”

“Even what, darling?” He coos.

The bodyguard returns to you and places a strawberry daiquiri in on the tabl before turning and leaving for the dance floor once again.

“Thank you.” “You smile and take a sip. “He said you’d killed someone in behind this very building.

Your words provoke a loud chuckle from him. His head tilts backwards as he laughs, exposing his Adam's apple.

“As you can see, Louis over there has quite the imagination.” He clears his throat and drops his expression into something more serious. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me around these parts. People love to gossip about my occupation. They know nothing of what they speak of.”

You sigh a sigh of relief and drink the last of your beverage, continuing the conversation. He remains calm and collected, only sharing enough to keep you intrigued, but not sufficient to satisfy your curiosity.

September 14th 1935

Three years into your relationship you’ve come to learn that Michael would always be that way. Not even the fact that you’re his wife could change that. Anytime you ask about his work, he’ll give you a short answer. Nothing too specific, just enough to reassure you that he’ll be safe on the next business trip he’d be heading to. Lately, things have changed. Your husband had no longer told you where he was headed. He’d simply leave a note alluding to where he’d be and what he’d be dealing with.

To say you were annoyed by his behaviour is an understatement. You spent the past 3 months with your housemaids. They knew the ins and outs of your new grand home, the home you moved into with Michael when he married you two and half years ago. You grew friendly to them in the early stages of your marriage which you thank yourself for doing because you can ask them what exactly your husband gets up to while you’re asleep or away with friends and family.

“Two weeks ago, he had three men here. They were all dressed in expensive-looking suits, and we were all ordered to serve them with whatever they pleased,” said Diane with an admitting tone.

“And a month before that, he had a woman here,” Claire adds, “but worry not. He did not lead her to your bedroom or anything of that sort.”

You listen to them intently, your fists clenching and relaxing as they tell you just how much Michael has been hiding from you.

“Do you know where he’ll be later tonight? You two are the eyes and ears of this house. I’m sure you heard word of his night excursion.” You look at them both.

“Yes. Of course!” Diane speaks. “I overheard him talk to his chauffeur, Bill, about being at Club 30 tonight at 11 pm for some business.”

“Perfect. Once he leaves for that, be sure to have a car for me to follow him there.”

Diane and Claire nod and disburse as your so-called honest husband makes his way to the kitchen where you’re situated.

“Good day, darling.” Michael coos, placing a soft and long kiss on your lips. “What were you all discussing just now?”

You kiss him back and hum, knowing not to tell him the truth. “We were planning for our housewarming party tomorrow.

“Ah, I see,” he sits beside you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, “I’ll make sure to get all the alcohol needed tonight, okay?”

You nod and cup his face with your warm hands, “Thank you, my love. You’re a lifesaver.”

He smiles, rubbing your back slowly before turning his attention to the newspaper. You notice his jaw clench as he reads the front cover, so you turn to the newspaper.

“Two Bodies Found at The Docking Pier Near Club 30”

“Oh my,” you gasp, catching Michael’s attention, “Poor souls.”

“It’s shocking indeed, darling,” he says not because he means it but because he has to in order not to alarm you. You can tell he knows more about these deaths than he’s saying so you probe.

“When did they find them?”

“The morning of September 9th.” He answers as he continues to read.

“Were you not there the night before?” you lean closer to him.

“What Are you sayin’?” He slowly turns towards you.

You huff and look him dead in his eyes. ”Surely you would have seen something.”

Michael’s Gaze hardens and his hand clutches the newspaper tightly. It’s not the first time you’ve angered him this way. There have been times when you asked him about his whereabouts, noticing how they always seemed to correlate with the discovery of a dead body. This time, however, you prob further. Gone are the days when you simply say “Okay fine” and let it go. Today, You want to know as much as he’ll tell you, even if it means he’ll be infuriated by your unwavering questioning.

“Darlin’…” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why would I know a thing about this.” He asks irritated, shaking the paper firmly.

“Because you were they the night before, no?” He nods. “And the paper says there was a quarrel around the same you when there for a drink.”

You observe his increasing anger, his breath getting deeper as he attempts to keep himself from raising his voice at you. One thing is for sure; he has something to hide, but he won’t dare yell at you. He knows better than to treat his woman with such fury. He would rather die than create room in your heart for you to fear him. If he did that, he would have failed as a husband, as a man, but God, were you pissing him off right now.

“Darlin’, I do not witness the fights that break out at the club. I’m gone by then.” He speaks bluntly.

“So why’d you come home so late that night?”

“Listen,” He snaps but quickly lowers his voice, “what I do in my spare time is not your concern. All you need to worry about is the goings-on of our home and yourself. Is that clear, Darlin’?”

His tone is stern as if to discipline you like a child. He’s never used such a tone while addressing you. You knew now that he was not telling you the complete story.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get ready for work.” That's the last thing he said to you that day before he disappeared out of the large wooden doors of your home to do God knows what.

19:00

Michael had arrived back from work an hour prior. He did not spend much time with you that evening, and soon, he was out the door. The only thing he said was that he’d be back with the alcohol for tomorrow’s housewarming. Why were you having a housewarming two years into moving here? You didn’t know, but that's not important. What's important is to figure out exactly what he has planned for the night.

23:17

“Mrs Jackson, the car is ready for you,” Diane whispers and you nod.

“Thank you, Diane. You and Claire be sure to take the day off tomorrow. We’ll have other servers here in your place.” Diane nods hastily at your words before she and Claire disappear into the servants’ quarters.

23:45

You thank the driver before stepping out of the car. Here you are, in front of Club 30 once again. It had been months since you were here, having feared that you’d meet the same fate as those two young men who were found dead this morning. That fear is now replaced with pent-up rage from your husband's lies. You were done with the secrets. Tonight, you’ll find out the truth, and nothing will stop you from completing that mission.

You walk into the ally and sneak your way into the club through the back door.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re a gem.” You give the bartender a soft kiss on the cheek as he helps you through the club’s kitchen.

“He’s here already. Two men came in shortly after him,” he blushed at the kiss, “Then two other men followed. They’re all seated together in his booth.”

You nod with a frown. “Do you know what they’re up to?”

“No, ma’am. They’ve had the jazz band playing to cover up their conversations, but the band will retire for the night soon.”

You follow him to the club’s end of the kitchen. To your surprise, the band has already left, leaving the five men, including Michael, to their own devices. Their conversation is clear as day. Both you and Louis lean on the door to listen in.

23:50

“How did they find the bodies?” Michael asks, his tone cold.

“We don’t know, boss. Don said he’d take care of it but-” One of the men tries to defend themself but is cut by the other.

“I never said I’d take care of anything!” You assume that is Don talking.

“Boss told you too! You always mess up the simplest jobs.”

“Enough!” You hear Michael shout as he delivers a loud bang to the table. “I will not tolerate such childish behaviour from anyone tonight. You all need to shut up and listen.”

A shiver runs down your back at his commanding voice. His soft-spoken nature seems to have shifted into something darker, something you didn’t recognise. Was this your husband? Of course, it was, but this was a side of him you were not acquainted with.

“But first. I must deal with something,” Michael begins, “Louis, bring her here.”

You dart your eyes to Louis, whose hand has already grasped yours, pulling you out of the kitchen and into the club's main room. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Michael stands before you, his curls messy and suit well-kept. He clicks his tongue and circles you slowly, shooing Louis away with a knowing nod.

“Now, what do we have here?” Michael speaks with a disappointed tone.

You’re frozen in place. The shock of Louis having sold you out fogged your mind. All you can do is dart your eyes as he continues the torturous dance around you. At that moment, you feel small. Like a rabbit waiting for the cheetah before it to pounce. 

“I- I can explain-”

Michael chuckles. “What happened to all that spunk you had interrogating me this morning, Darlin’? Was it all a front?”

You have no choice but to look down abashedly. You’ve been caught, your plans ruined by someone you thought you could trust. Oh, once you get out of here, you’ll be ripping Louis a new one.

“Come. Sit.” Michael grabs your arm and leads you to the booth. You fall onto the leather seat and face the four men who sit across from you and Michael on hard wooden stools.

“Explain yourself, darlin’.” He commands.

The anger you’ve bottled up finally spills over as you begin: “Explain myself? You have a lot of nerve to say such a thing! How dare you lie to me about your life to this degree? Shame on you! Shame on all of you in this room right now!”

You’re seething with anger, your hands clench tight around nothing, your jaw tight, and your brows furrowed. Your eyes roam your surroundings. The four men facing you don’t react to your words. One, however, smiles contently.

“I never knew your wife could yell like that, Boss.” Don smiles.

“Neither did I,” Michael admits, “You’re full of surprises, young lady.”

“And you’re full of shit!” You spit at Michael, provoking a twitch of disapproval across his face.

“Watch yourself.” He lifts a finger, reprimanding your outburst. “I know you want answers, but I will not accept such foul language, darlin’. Understand?”

You shake your head, cross your arms and look anywhere but him or his lackeys. “Speak.”

Michael chuckles at your attempt to be tough. “Oh, you’re too cute, my love,” he says as he sits beside you, “As you wish. What would you like to know?”

“Who are these men?” You start with a simple question.

“These are Tony, Don, Trevor, and Allen. They’re my cleaners, my boys.” He sips his whiskey.

“Cleaners? Meaning what?” You raise a brow at them and they all bow their heads in acknowledgement.

“What an innocent mind you have” He coos. “They clean up after me. You know, after I deal with someone.”

“What?” You raise your voice.

“We get rid of anyone he kills, Mrs Jackson. That’s our job, but someone didn’t do it right on Friday.” Tony hits Don on the heads

Michael shifts in the seat and shakes his head. “You are all so childish.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Your husband, the man you love is a killer. A cold-blooded killer. How did he never show any sign of this sick side to him?

“Michael, you’re a killer?” You look at him with your cheeks red.

“Darlin’, it’s much more complicated than that-”

“Then explain yourself” You snap.

Michael sighs before nodding. He stands up, holding his hand out for you to take it, but you don't. Instead, you stand and follow him to the balcony on the second floor.

00:00

The hustle and bustle of Chicago has slowed down significantly at this hour. As you and Michael stand outside, you hear a dog bark from afar and a car rumble through the empty road. This calm view of the city lights does little to nothing to ease your stress. It seems as though nothing he has to say with change how you feel in the moment.

“Listen, I know what you’ve heard is concerning to you, but I must assure you, my love, that You have nothing to worry about.”

“Is that so?” You huff. “How am I supposed to do that when you’re running the streets killing people?”

Michael lifts his finger to hush you. The last thing he needs is to have the patrolling police listening to your heated conversation.

“It’s not that simple, my love.”

“Simplify it for me,” You cross your arms.

“You won’t believe me, but alas, I’ll explain.” He leans onto the rails, lighting a cigar before taking a long breath of the smoky substance.

“Remember when I told you about my upbringing? My family always had to move from state to state.” you nod. “Well, that was because my father was involved in criminal activity. But you know that part.”

You remember Michael telling you about how his father was killed in prison by a gang he worked in opposition with.

“Go on,” you command.

“When my father died, my older brothers wanted nothing to do with the life my father led, so I took over as boss.” Michael wraps his lips around the cigar, sucking on it as it fills his lungs with the smoky air. He puffs rings of smoke out as he watches for your reaction.

“You're some kind of mafia boss? here, in Chicago?” You cough as the aftersmoke hits your throat.

All Michael can do is nod. His eyes stay fixed on you as you take in everything you’ve heard. 

How long was he going to hide this? What would he have done if you were in trouble? What did he expect you to do if he got arrested or hurt?

“I would never let myself get hurt, let alone put you in any form of danger, darlin’. I swear.” He reassures you with one hand on your face and the other holding the burning cigar

“You’ve already endangered me by not telling me this from the beginning.” Your voice cracks.

“How could I tell a stranger that I’m a criminal?” He runs his fingers through his curls.

“You’re calling your wife a stranger? Jee, Michael. I never knew you were this cruel.” Your head shakes as tears roll down your cheeks.

“Darlin’…I meant no harm. believe me.” Michael wipes a tear from your eye which does nothing to soothe your sorrow.

“I cannot do this right now.” You turn away from him.

“My love…” his voice falls small.

“You’ve lied to me for three years, Michael. Three years.” You sigh and take a step away from him. “I cannot bear to look at you without feeling betrayed. I cannot be around you right now.”

You walk away, leaving him on the balcony with a cigar in his hand and a tear threatening to fall from his beautiful brown eyes.

00:38

As you hastily pack an overnight bag, you look at your shared bed with teary eyes. The thought of you sharing a be with a killer haunts your mind and breaks your heart. You had to get away from here, from him.

Right now, nothing could stop you from seeing him as a monster, and that hurt to admit.

You married a criminal. You married a killer.

March 1st, 1932

22:00

You take a deep breath in as you examine your surroundings. You can’t believe you’re going to do this, going on a date with a man your friend, Aubrey, set you up with.

It had been a long time since your separation from your long-time boyfriend. The split was painful. You remember it every so often; the emotions of that day build up at random times of your day, leaving you teary and shaking with sadness. He promised you the world. Maybe that was the first sign of his infidelity. No man promises a woman the world three months into a relationship. It was all bull from the beginning, but could you have known? You were in your late teens, naive and lovestruck. You couldn’t have known.

Now, here you are, in front of Club 30, in a silky red dress and sleek golden heels. Your hair is done beautifully in a top bun with a few loose curls draped behind your ears. You fiddle with one of the multiple rings you have on, contemplating whether or not you should go in. You take in one final breath before pushing open the heavy oak doors, ready for whatever the late night has in store for you.

The bass of the jazz band rumbles through the smoky air as you walk in. You notice a large crowd on the dance floor. Their bodies rock from side to side to the rhythm of the 4-count music. To the left are tables designed for an assembly of friends. The booths are decorated in a simple brown leather, with each table covered with wine-red cloths designed to give you an intimate feel as friends converse.

There are five young men there right now. Their heads all turned to you. You give them a small smile, which excites them, but you ignore it and look to your right. That way is the bar. That’s where you’re expected. You clear your throat and slowly walk to the bar before taking a seat on one of the many high barstools. The array of alcohol beautifully decorates the large wall before you. From wine to whisky, it’s all gracefully shelved in a way that makes you forget that all those liquids are poison.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The bartender interrupts your thoughts. His smile is genuine and calm, indicating his expertise in customer service.

You return the smile. Your red lipstick morphs into a beautiful grin as you speak. “I’m not too sure what to order. Any suggestions?”

“Of course, ma’am. Do you have a taste for a sweet or bitter drink?” He leans on the counter, clearly taken aback by your allure.

“Sweet, please.”

“I would suggest a lemonade or strawberry daiquiri.” He looks you up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Strawberry, please.” You giggle and roll your eyes, and he nods before turning around to prepare your drink.

While the bartender works on your beverage, you fix your gaze on the large clock. 22:10. Aubrey had said your date would be by the bar by 22:00, but he’s not here yet. You decide to shrug it off and wait a little longer.

“Here you are, ma’am. A strawberry daiquiri.” He carefully slides the drink your way with a wink.

You take a long sip through the paper straw. The sweetness of the strawberry fizz is complemented by the thick rum.You’re impressed by the taste. Having never drunk this before, your tongue enjoys every drop of it, and soon enough, you’re asking for another one.

22:30.

You huff.

“Are you expecting someone?” The bartender enquires, sliding you your second daiquiri.

“Yes. I am, but I’m afraid I’ve been stood up.” You take a sip of your drink with a frown.

“That happens here quite a lot, unfortunately,” he starts, “Just a few hours ago, an older lady sat here with me and waited for her date to arrive. Alas, he never did.”

You sigh and nod. Maybe the same fate had met you.

“Don’t fret. I’m sure he would have been a waste of time anyway.” He grins, tapping his fingers on the marble counter.

You nod again, accepting your circumstances. Instead of moping about your current fate, you turn to face the band across the bar. They play a more upbeat tune now. Something that has the dance floor cheering and whistling with joy. The sight lifts your mood. Your head begins to rock to the rhythm.

“You should join the crowd, let loose,” The bartender encourages you.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you lean back to turn the suggestion down.

“Oh, come on, ma’am. I’m sure you’re great at it. Plus, why come to Club 30 if not to dance? This is the place to dance, and I know—”

The bartender’s words are cut off as he notices the large oak doors open. The thick, smoky air in the club shifts, as if it’s being controlled by something—something that makes the jazz band mess up rhythmic jam.

“Oh no. Tonight of all nights?” He whispers behind you, and you fix your gaze on the two large men who you assume are bodyguards.

Before you can respond, another man walks in. He’s dressed differently from the large, black-suited men behind him. You glance at his white tailored suit. The expensive fabric hugs his slim figure perfectly, accentuating his toned arms and legs. Beneath his white suit jacket is a soft pastel blue shirt sleekly complemented by a white tie. His black curls upon his head are topped off with a simple white fedora. His presence has undoubtedly changed the mood of the club. What you cannot decipher is if the shift is a good or bad one. What you do know, however, is that his arrival has garnered the attention of everyone in the club.

As swiftly as he arrived, his bodyguards escorted him to the far corner of the club. He sits between them as if he’s royalty of some sort. He examines the room; he’s seated in the perfect place to see every corner of the club, to see you.

You hadn’t noticed that you were staring at him the entire time he had sat there until he finally fixed his gaze on you. With a nervous smile, you wave at him. He tilts his head, but before he can do anything else, his table is surrounded by a cluster of girls ready to throw themselves at him.

“I wouldn't if I were you. That man is trouble.”

You turn to face the bartender, whose face shows concern.

“Why’s that?” You smile inquisitively.

“He’s known for doing shady business around these parts. Rumour has it that he’s taken a life just outside the club, in the back alley.”

You scoff.

“I doubt that's true. If it were, we’d see news of a death in the papers, no?”

Before the bartender could answer, one of the large men at the corner table tapped you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, ma’am. My boss would like to speak with you.” The large man speaks with an even tone.

You look at the bartender, who shakes his head in disagreement with the request, but you, not having anything better to do here, smile and stand up to follow the black-suited man.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” You reassure the bartender before you walk to the designated table.

A dozen eyes watch you as you make it to the alluring man. The girls that once squealed with excitement at his arrival now fix their eyes on you with bitter jealousy. That doesn't stop the white-suited man from motioning you to sit beside him. You slowly scoot your way onto the leather seat, sitting just a few inches away from him.

“Leave us.” He commands, and as if they’re filled with fear, the two bodyguards make their way to the dance floor. The girls, on the other hand, linger.

“All of you. Now.” His voice is stern now, his piercing gaze scaring the girls away with those simple words.

Now, you’re left alone with him. Without others around, his scent floods your nostrils. A deep sage with a mix of vanilla scent surrounds him. What an intoxicating scent, one you could inhale for aeons.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone at this hour?” He asks.

His voice is surprisingly softer than the tough visual that he is. He shifts closer to you, closing the gap you had left before looking you dead in the eyes. His deep brown eyes glisten in the mellow lighting of the club. Something is confusing about those eyes. They appear so innocent, but something in them hints at a darker reality.

“I had a date tonight,” you fidget with your rings, “regrettably, he never showed.”

He takes a slow sip of his drink, which you’ll come to learn is whisky. His gaze never leaves yours as he drinks.

“What a foolish man he is to leave a woman hanging like that, especially a woman of your…stature.”

You giggle. The sound of your giggle eggs him on. “My stature?” You probe, and he nods.

“An enchanting woman like you shouldn’t be treated so poorly.”

You’re taken aback by his words. Looking away from him, you fiddle with your rings. He notices this and gently places his hand on yours. You look at. It’s larger than yours, with veins travelling to and fro. You look up surprised and he shoots you a soft grin.

“The name’s Michael. Michael Jackson. Yours?”

Without a second to waste, you tell him yours. His smile brightens at your response; a few crinkles surround his eyes as he smiles.

“It’s very nice to meet you, darlin',” Michael whispers into your ear in a sultry tone that causes a shiver to run down your spine.

“Now, tell me. What nonsense was our little bartender telling you about me, hmm?” He leans back into the leather seat.

“That you’re trouble.” You shrug bluntly, tapping your slim fingers on the table before you.

“Oh really?” He motions for his bodyguard, “What kind of trouble did he say I am?

Before you answer, he whispers something to his bodyguard before shooing him away. You watch the large man stand at the bar, and the bartender fixes up a drink.

“That you’ve done some shady business here and even…”

“Even what, darling?” He coos.

The bodyguard makes his way back to you and places a strawberry daiquiri in front of you before turning and leaving for the dance floor once again.

“Thank you.” “You smile and take a sip. “He said you’d killed someone behind this very building.

Your words provoke a loud chuckle from him. His head tilts back as he laughs, exposing his Adam's apple.

“As you can see, Louis over there has quite the imagination.” He clears his throat and drops his expression into something more serious. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me around these parts. People love to gossip about my occupation. They know nothing of what they speak of.”

You sigh a sigh of relief and drink the last of your beverage, continuing, the conversation with Michael. He remains calm and collected, only sharing enough to keep you wondering.

14 September 1935

Three years into your relationship, you’ve come to learn that Michael would always be that way. Not even the fact that you’re his now could change. Anytime you ask about his work, he’ll give you a short answer. Nothing too specific, just enough to reassure you that he’ll be safe on the next business trip he’ll be heading to. Lately, things have changed. Your husband had no longer told you where he was headed. He’d simply leave a note alluding to where he’d be and what he’d be dealing with.

To say you were annoyed by his behaviour is an understatement. You spent the past 3 months with your housemaids. They knew the ins and outs of your new grand home, the home you moved into with Michael when he married you two and a half years ago. You grew friendly with them in the early stages of your marriage, which you now thank yourself for doing because you can now ask them what exactly your husband gets up to while you’re asleep or away with friends and family.

“Two weeks ago, he had three men here. They were all dressed in expensive-looking suits, and we were all ordered to serve them with whatever they pleased,” said Diane with an admitting tone.

“And a month before that, he had a woman here,” Claire adds, “but worry not. He did not lead her to your bedroom or anything of that sort.”

You listen to them intently, your fists clenching and relaxing as they tell you just how much Michael has been hiding from you.

“Do you know where he’ll be later tonight? You two are the eyes and ears of this house. I’m sure you heard word of his night excursion.” You look at them both.

“Yes. Of course!” Diane speaks. “I overheard him talk to his chauffeur, Bill, about being at Club 30 tonight at 11 pm for some business.”

“Perfect. Once he leaves for that, be sure to have a car for me to follow him there, please.”

Diane and Claire nod at your plan and disperse as your so-called honest husband makes his way to the kitchen where you’re situated.

“Good day, darling.” Michael coos, placing a soft and long kiss on your lips. “What were you all discussing just now?”

You kiss him back and hum, knowing not to tell him the truth. “We were planning for the housewarming party you and I are hosting tomorrow.

“Ah, I see,” he sits beside you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, “I’ll make sure to get all the alcohol needed tonight, okay?”

You nod and cup his face with your warm hands, “Thank you, my love. You’re a lifesaver.”

He smiles, rubbing your back slowly before turning your attention to the daily newspaper. You notice his jaw clench as he reads the front cover, so you turn to the newspaper too.

“2 Bodies Found at the Docking Pier Near Club 30”

“Oh my,” you gasp, catching Michael’s attention, “Poor souls.”

“It’s shocking indeed, darling,” he says not because he means it but because he has to in order not to alarm you.

You can tell he knows more about these deaths than he’s saying, so you probe.

“When did they find them?”

“The morning of September 9th.” He answers as he continues to read.

“Were you not there the night before?” You lean closer to him.

“What are you sayin’?” He slowly turns towards you.

You huff and look him dead in his eyes. ”Surely you would have seen something.”

Michael’s gaze hardens, and his hand clutches the newspaper tightly. It’s not the first time you’ve angered him this way. There have been times when you asked him about his whereabouts, noticing how they always seemed to correlate with the discovery of a dead body. This time, however, you probably went further. Gone are the days when you simply say, “Okay, fine,” and let it go. Today, you want to know as much as he’ll tell you, even if it means he’ll be infuriated by your unwavering questioning.

“Darlin’…” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why would I know a thing about this?” He asks, irritated, shaking the paper firmly.

“Because you were there the night before, no?” He nods. “And the paper says there was a quarrel around the same time you were there for a drink.”

You observe his increasing anger, his breath getting deeper as he attempts to keep himself from raising his voice at you. One thing is for sure; he has something to hide, but he won’t dare yell at you. He knows better than to treat his woman with such fury. He would rather die than create room in your heart for you to fear him. If he did that, he would have failed as a husband, as a man, but God, were you pissing him off right now?

“Darlin’, I do not witness the fights that break out at that club. I’m gone by then.” He speaks bluntly.

“So why’d you come home so late that night?”

“Listen,” He snaps but quickly lowers his voice, “What I do in my spare time is not your concern. All you need to worry about is the going-ons of our home and yourself. Is that clear, Darlin’?”

His tone is stern as if to discipline you like a child. He’s never used such a tone while addressing you. You knew now that he was not telling you the complete story.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get ready for work.” That's the last thing he said to you that day before he disappeared out of the large wooden doors of your home to do God knows what.

19:00

Michael had arrived back from work an hour prior. He did not spend much time with you that evening, and soon, he was out the door. The only thing he said was that he’d be back with the alcohol for tomorrow’s housewarming. Why were you having a housewarming two years into moving here? You didn’t know, but that's not important. What's important is to figure out exactly what he has planned for the night.

23:17

“Mrs. Jackson, the car is ready for you,” Diane whispers, and you nod.

“Thank you, Diane. You and Claire be sure to take the day off tomorrow. We’ll have other servers here in your place.” Diane nods hastily at your words before she and Claire disappear into the servants’ quarters.

23:45

You thank the driver before stepping out of the car. Here you are, in front of Club 30 once again. It had been months since you were here, having feared that you’d meet the same fate as those two young men who were found dead this morning. That fear is now replaced with pent-up rage from your husband's lies. You were done with the secrets. Tonight, you’ll find out the truth, and nothing will stop you from completing that mission.

You walk into the alley and sneak your way into the club through the back door.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re a gem.” You give the bartender a soft kiss on the cheek as he helps you through the club’s kitchen.

“He’s here already. Two men came in shortly after him,” he blushes at the kiss, “Then two other men followed. They’re all seated together in this booth.”

You nod with a frown. “Do you know what they are up to?”

“No, ma’am. They’ve had the jazz band playing to cover up their conversations, but the band will retire for the night soon.”

You follow him to the club’s end of the kitchen. To your surprise, the band has already left, leaving the five men, including Michael, to their own devices. Their conversation is clear as day. Both you and Louis lean on the door to listen in.

23:50

“How did they find the bodies?” Michael asks, his tone cold.

“We don’t know, boss. Don said he’d take care of it, but—” One of the men tries to defend himself but is interrupted by the other.

“I never said I’d take care of anything!” You assume it is Don talking.

“Boss told you too! You always mess up the simplest jobs.”

“Enough!” You hear Michael shout as he delivers a loud bang to the table. “I will not tolerate such childish behaviour from anyone tonight. You all need to shut up and listen.”

A shiver runs down your back at his commanding voice. His soft-spoken nature seems to have shifted into something darker, something you didn’t recognise. Was this your husband? Of course, it was, but this was a side of him you were not acquainted with.

“But first. I must deal with something,” Michael begins. “Louis, bring her here.”

You dart your eyes to Louis, whose hand has already grasped yours, pulling you out of the kitchen and into the main room of the club. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and fear as Michael stands before you, his curls messy and his suit well-kept. He clicks his tongue and circles you slowly, shooing Louis away with a knowing nod.

“Now, now. What do we have here?” Michael speaks with a disappointed tone.

You’re frozen in place. The shock of Louis having sold you out is still fogging your mind. All you can do is dart your eyes from left to right as he continues the torturous dance around you. At that moment, you feel small. Like a rabbit waiting for the cheetah before it pounces. Its heart thumps uncontrollably as it awaits its demise.

“I—I can explain—”

Michael chuckles. “What happened to all that spunk you had interrogating me this morning, Darlin’? Was it all a front?”

You have no choice but to look down abashedly. You’ve been caught, your plans ruined by someone you thought you could trust. Oh, once you get out of here, you’ll be ripping Louis a new one.

“Come. Sit.” Michael grabs your arm and leads you to the booth. You fall onto the leather seat and face the four men who sit across from you and Michael on hard wooden stools.

“Explain yourself, darlin’.” He commands.

The anger you’ve bottled up finally spills over as you begin, “No! You have a lot of nerve to do such a thing! How dare you lie to me about your life to this degree? Shame on you! Shame on all of you in this room right now!”

You’re seething with anger, your hands clench tight around nothing, your jaw tight, and your brows furrowed. Your eyes roam your surroundings. The four men facing you don’t react to your words. One, however, smiles contently.

“I never knew your wife could yell like that, Boss.” Don smiles.

“Neither did I,” Michael admits, “You’re full of surprises, young lady.”

“And you’re full of shit!” You spit at Michael, provoking a twitch of disapproval across his face.

“Watch yourself.” He lifts a finger, reprimanding your outburst. “I know you want answers, but I will not accept such foul language, darlin’. Got it?”

You shake your head, cross your arms, and look anywhere but at him or his lackeys. “Speak.”

Michael chuckles at your attempt to be tough. “Oh, you’re too cute, my love,” he says as he sits beside you, “As you wish. What would you like to know?”

“Who are these men?” You start with a simple question.

“These are Tony, Don, Trevor, and Allen. They’re my cleaners, my boys.” He sips his whisky.

“Cleaners? Meaning what?” You raise a brow at them, and they all bow their heads in acknowledgement.

“What an innocent mind you have, darlin’.” He coos. “They clean up after me. You know, after I deal with someone.”

“What?” You raise your voice.

“We get rid of anyone he kills, Mrs. Jackson. That’s our job, but someone didn’t do it right on Friday.” Tony hits Don on the head.

Michael shifts in the seat and shakes his head. “You are all so childish.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Your husband, the man you love, is a killer. A cold-blooded killer. How couldn’t you have known? How did he never show any sign of this sick side?

“Michael, you’re a killer?” You look at him with your cheeks red.

“Darlin’, it’s much more complicated than that—”

“Then explain yourself!” You snap.

Michael sighs. He stands up, holding out his hand for you to take it, but you don't. Instead, you stand and follow him to the balcony on the second floor.

00:00

The hustle and bustle of Chicago has slowed down significantly at this hour. As you and Michael stand outside, you hear a dog bark from afar and a car rumble through the empty road. This calm view of the city lights does little to nothing to ease your stress. It seems as though nothing he has to say will change how you feel in the moment.

“Listen, I know what you’ve heard is concerning to you, but I must assure you, my love, that you have nothing to worry about.”

“Is that so?” You huff. “How am I not to worry when you’re running the streets killing people?”

Michael lifts his finger to hush you. The last thing he needs is to have the patrolling police listening in on your heated conversation.

“It’s not that simple, my love.”

“Simplify it for me.” You cross your arms.

“You won’t believe me, but alas, I’ll explain.” He leans onto the rails, lighting up a cigar before taking a long breath of the smoky substance.

“Remember when I told you about my upbringing? My family always had to move from state to state,” you nod. “Well, that was because my father was involved in criminal activity. But you know that part.”

Your memory is sparked, and you remember Michael telling you about how his father was killed in prison by a gang member he worked in opposition with.

“Go on,” you command.

“When my father died, my older brothers wanted nothing to do with the life he led, so I took over as boss.” Michael wraps his lips around the cigar, sucking on it as it fills his lungs with the smoky air. He puffs rings of smoke out as he watches for your reaction.

“You're some kind of mafia boss? here, in Chicago?” You cough as the aftersmoke hits your throat.

All Michael can do is nod. His eyes stay fixed on you as you take in everything you’ve heard. How long was he going to hide this? What would he have done if you were in trouble? What did he expect you to do if he got arrested or hurt?

“I would never let myself get hurt, let alone put you in any form of danger, darlin’. I swear.” He reassures you with one hand on your face and the other holding the burning cigar.

“You’ve already endangered me by not telling me this from the beginning.” Your voice cracks.

“How could I tell a stranger that I’m a criminal?” He runs his fingers through his curls.

“You’re calling your wife a stranger? Jeez, Michael. I never knew you were this cruel.” Your head shakes as tears roll down your cheeks.

“Darlin’…I meant no harm. believe me.” Michael wipes a tear from your eye, which does nothing to soothe your sorrow.

“I cannot do this right now.” You turn away from him.

“My love…” His voice falls small.

“You’ve lied to me for three years, Michael.” You take a step away from him. “I cannot bear to look at you without feeling betrayed. I cannot be around you right now. I don't even recognise you anymore”

You walk away, leaving him on the balcony with a cigar in his hand and a tear threatening to fall from his beautiful brown eyes.

00:38

As you pack an overnight bag, you look at your shared bed with teary eyes. The thought of you sharing a bed with a killer haunts your mind and breaks your heart. You had to get away from here, from him. Nothing could stop you from seeing him as a monster.

You married a killer. You married a criminal.

Fernando Alonso Masterlist

back to my main masterlist

*gif not mine*

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ Red Passion

HERE

- in which during his ferrari years, fernando alonso finds solace and unwavering support in his girlfriend

a side of fries

toto wolff

tags: smut/fluff, food (mcdonalds), age gap (26/52), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, gentle sex, sweet & spicy fic, cowgirl position, domestic

it was ten at night on a friday. and most women your age were probably at a bar or some club, they were dancing the night away in uncomfortable heels and short dresses. the loud thump of the bass and the endless drinks.

you could even hear them walking and chatting past your apartment in monaco. but you weren't a club go-er, not since your met toto. and not since you got pregnant.

you were half of toto's age almost to a t, twenty six while he was fifty-two. you both made quite the pair, but you loved him so deeply. you loved in a way that you never felt for anyone else. he was unlike any other man you had ever met.

you actually were the girlfriend of a young engineer and at a race in your home country, you ran into and met toto. while it was an honour to meet someone like him. it wouldn't come till after you and your boyfriend broke up that toto would come back into your life.

"you don't have to." you played with the bracelet around your wrist as you stood outside the expensive restaurant in monaco. he flew you out for the weekend, he told you that he wanted you to go on a real date.

he simply held your lower back and smiled down at you, "i want to, you are not making me do anything i don't want to do, meine prinzessin." then leaned in a little, "may i kiss you?" and that was when you knew that you were in love with toto.

and in turn he loved you more than the stars that dotted the sky.

it was ten at night, toto had been busy in the home office with work for the next leg of the season. he only had a month with you before he was back in different parts of the world. thankfully, you were able to join him for the dutch and italian grand prix.

he was comfortable being on the couch next to you, you tucked into his side. you wore one of his quarter zip sweaters that was loose enough on you to be comfortable. toto had an arm around you while you watched a movie on the television. it wasn't anything too difficult, toto had mentioned earlier that day that he had never seen those "animated spiderman movies" when he caught you looking at baby onesies online. you had your eye on a little spiderman one.

now you were snuggled up as you watched spider-man: into the spider-verse. and while you loved the movie, there was something else on your mind. you leaned up and kissed your lover on the jaw.

"toto." you said softly.

"yes, liebste." he asked as he pulled you a little closer to kiss the top of your head. he then looked at your face and asked, "what are you thinking about?"

"i'm hungry." you rested your chin up against him. you looked at him, "i want mcdonalds."

toto made a slight face before he ran his fingers through your hair, "darling." he said, "you know that isn't healthy for you or the baby." you only pouted further.

"but me and the peanut want it."

toto chuckled, affected by your puppy-dog eyes. he was glad that he married his weak spot. he moved his hand to your middle and rubbed it, the rounded belly you had. he said, "my sweetheart, please. we have food at home."

you pouted, "please... please!"

before toto knew it, he had a pair of proper pants on and a cleaner t-shirt. you were in maternity shorts and one of his t-shirts. he had sneakers on while you were wearing flip flops. toto thought you were beautiful. you were his weakness, he hoped that you didn't make a habit of weaponizing your puppy-dog eyes to get junk food.

you both went down to the car and soon were headed towards the fast-food place. it was odd, in a city with so much food and culture. you wanted greasy fast food. his hand was on your thigh as he rubbed the partially exposed skin.

toto entered the restaurant with you, his hand on your lower back. you went to the self ordering station and he stayed close to you. you looked at him and asked, "do you want anything?"

he raised his eyebrows at you and you tilted your head towards the screen.

he chuckled, "i don't think it'll agree with my stomach at this age... and if you're getting a soft drink, please get something with no sugar. i don't need the doctor giving you or me a hard time because of your sweet tooth."

you ordered a cheeseburger, a large (diet) coke, and a side of fries. you could already taste the grease on your tongue. toto thought it was adorable, how excited you were. how excited you were.

he remained close to you, a protective hand at your waist as you both waited for your food. he looked down at you and asked, "are you alright, liebste?"

you nodded and replied in what little german you knew, "mir geht es großartig." you stumbled over the last part a little and toto beamed at you. obviously the child you were having together was going to be multi-lingual but you didn't want to miss out on their conversations in german. so you've been trying to learn.

he rubbed your back a little bit and you had a hand at your swollen middle. your number was soon called and you got closer to the counter with toto close behind like a shadow.

the employee looked at you and then toto. she looked a bit confused and you just sheepishly smiled as you took the meal. you thanked her before you shuffled out of the restaurant.

when you got in the car and put the straw in your diet coke, before you took a sip you said, "she thought we were father and daughter."

toto made a face as he got into the driver's suit. he reached over and rubbed your middle, "and here i thought that getting you pregnant would solve that problem." he leaned over and kissed you, the sharp taste of coke on his lips before he buckled himself and drove off.

back at the apartment, you happily ate your greasy food while toto played with your hair. he was impressed with you in everything you did, you were the perfect wife for him.

"happy?"

you nodded, with half of a fry sticking out of your mouth. toto leaned in and ate the other half before he kissed you. by the time you finished your meal and got rid of the garbage. he was hungry for something else. as you were partially bent over to throw out the wrappers. he draped an arm over your belly and pressed his chest up against your back.

eventually he rubbed your middle and sighed happily, "you look divine." he pressed you closer to him and kissed the side of your neck, "you carry my child so well. you're going to be an amazing mother."

just as toto couldn't deny you, you couldn't deny him. you giggled a little and turned in his grasp. you kissed him on the lips, the taste of grease still stained them. you shuddered with warmth.

when he pulled away he simply suggested, "why don't we go to bed, you must be tired." he cupped your face with his large hand and smiled.

you ended up on the bed with toto slowly pulling the shirt over your body, exposing your pregnant body to him. he placed a hand on your rounded middle and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, you could hear him say he loved you against your skin. sex was slowly becoming a little more difficult thanks to the bump. but you'd always find ways to make do. your husband stripped you free of your clothes like a present. his hungry gaze on your swollen breasts. even giving the tender flash a kiss when he got you out of the sports bra.

your body had changed so much these last few months. all because of him, it was quite the boost to his ego. that as his age he could still father a child with such a beautiful, lovely woman. he pulled back while you sat on the bed and admired you. he licked his lips at the sight of you and felt warmth pool through his body.

you sat there naked, it was only fair that he did the same. you admired him, licked your lips hungrily as he joined in you in bed. naked as well. he was still fit for a man his age, he took care of himself. he still had enough stamina left in him to make sure his wife was taken care of. he wrapped his arms around you as he laid in bed. with you still seated upwards, it was the perfect angle for him to kiss you bare bump.

"you're such a good wife, good mother." he said lowly as his hand dipped further down until he was between your legs. his long fingers toyed with your pussy as he kissed at your swell, "from the moment i laid eyes on you, i knew you had to be mine. no one that beautiful should go without. and in return you gave me the most precious gift ever."

he pressed you closer for a moment, his nose squished against your belly. he exhaled deeply. that was why he spoiled you, as a thank you. you were giving him a child. when he pulled away, he had a hand on your hip and watched you move on top of him.

due to the pregnancy, you had to switch up the positions. and while toto loved classic missionary, having you in his lap wasn't too bad either. his hands on your belly as he eyed at you, his dark eyes pulled you in. he licked his lips as you shifted yourself on his lap. then sank down on his cock.

you whimpered a little and it was music to his ears. he loved how you sounded and it only spurred him on further to touch you. to love you. to give his wife all the affection she yearned for. you were all his, and he'd give you the world.

"how are you feeling? sick at all from the food?" he asked. during your pregnancy he wanted to make sure that you were eating well and taking care of yourself. he worried about you, work made it hard for him to be around often. but regardless, he was still weak to your puppy dog eyes.

he held your hips as you moved against him. he wanted to steady you as you pleasured the both of you. so pregnant yet working so hard. toto was a lucky man. he admired you as the pleasure coursed through his body. he asked you once more, "is the movements hurting you?" concern in his voice where the edges were tinged with lust.

"no, no, it's perfect. it's fine. nothing hurts, not even my hips." you said with pleasure seeped deep into your voice as you moved against him even more. you felt the crawl of want through your core and your cunt clenched around his achy cock. you exhaled deeply, "toto, this feels amazing." you chuckled lightly, "even better than the mcdonalds."

toto took a firmer grasp of your ass and said, "that's good to know. that my cock is better than fast food. i'd say that it doesn't add pounds on you, but.." he eyed your swollen belly, "i fear that's not the case." he relaxed a little bit as you continued to move up and down his cock.

you moaned as you held onto his short dark hair and gazed into his dark eyes. he can see the lust heavy in your gaze as you moved up and down his cock. you arched your back a little more and he placed both hands on your swollen middle.

"my wife." he groaned, "i got you all nice and pregnant. spoiled you, made you all mine. a yet you've only become more beautiful. stunning in a ways that keep me hooked to you. i need you, my darling. every inch i can have you." he panted against your warm chest, "i got you pregnant, i made you mine."

his words made your stomach flip as you continued to pleasure him. the feeling was immense, his words were like hot coals against your already heated skin. and it made your head swim with euphoric want. only toto wolff could make you feel revered and adored, but also like a slut. a whore for him to play with. even though he spoiled you in every aspect he could.

it was a duality that made you shudder as you felt the pleasure continue to mount in your core. he kissed at your chest and it made you clutch onto his hair tightly. the thumping in your chest felt faster with each buck of your hips. you were beyond excited, pleasure dripped from your core as you took his entire length.

you felt a haze in your system as you rode him. he happily let his sweet wife keep the pace. let you get to climax first. he cupped your swollen belly, the feeling of the skin under his hands made his cock twitch. even at his age he could knock up someone as beautiful as you. it didn't take much either, just a weekend in the swiss alps... or maybe it was the hotel in monza.... or the back of a cab at an after party a week later. regardless, he got your pregnant.

you tensed up around him, your cunt tightened around his cock as you held on tighter. you came around his length and continued your hot, quick movements.

you near sang his praises as you came, tensed up around him and he pulled you down for a searing kiss. he picked up the pace of his movements and fucked you feverishly till he reached his own climax. the feeling flooded his head and left little room for coherent thought. almost like a primal need to fuck you until a base part of his was satified. so he continued to move his hips once he finished inside of you.

when the clarity hit, he stopped and held your face to pepper your heated skin with kisses. he rested against you and panted heavily, "alright, alright, my treasure. my love." he held your back more tenderly before he guided you fully onto the bed and laid a protective hand at your waist.

"i love you."

"i love you too. now don't think you can always get your way by giving me sex." he playfully scolded you. he shifted himself close to your pregnant form. how warm you felt even from a small gap between you two.

you just smiled at your beloved toto and said, "oh don't worry. i'll use my powers for good." as if you hadn't been using your child to be a very spoiled mrs. wolff. <3

Checo Perez with wife reader. Despite him not having a seat next year, she wanted him to start the new year afresh. Doing everything she could and he's just grateful for her support all his career in motorsports. He knew her didn't always there when she or their kids needed him. Always make him guilty. But he tried the better he could for them. Thanks!! :))

The New Year’s Fresh Start

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pairing: checo perez x wife!reader

summary: After losing his seat for the upcoming season, Checo feels weighed down by guilt and uncertainty. But with his wife’s unwavering love and support, he realizes that family is the true constant in his life, and she reminds him of his worth beyond the track.

The house was unusually quiet for a New Year’s Eve. The kids were asleep upstairs, their soft breaths audible through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. Checo sat on the couch, staring blankly at the glass of wine in his hand. The weight of the year’s disappointments pressed heavily on his shoulders.

He swirled the wine absentmindedly, thinking about how it all unraveled. Losing his seat—no matter how much he tried to prepare for it—still stung. Racing wasn’t just his career; it was his life. And now, he didn’t even know who he was without it.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see you, his wife, entering the living room with a gentle smile. You were carrying a tray with two mugs of hot chocolate, a subtle gesture to remind him that some traditions were worth keeping, even on a somber night.

—Thought you could use this. —you said, handing him a mug as you settled beside him.

—Gracias, mi amor. —he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He set his wine aside and took the mug, the warmth seeping into his hands.

You studied him for a moment, your heart aching at the sadness in his eyes. Checo had always been the strong one—the fighter. But tonight, he seemed smaller, like the world had finally broken through his armor.

—You know. —you began softly, —a new year doesn’t have to mean starting over. It can just mean a fresh start.

He chuckled bitterly. —It’s hard to feel like a fresh start when everything I’ve worked for feels… gone.

You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. —Everything you’ve worked for isn’t gone, Sergio. It’s right here. In this house, in our family, in the memories you’ve created on and off the track. Racing might be a part of who you are, but it’s not all of who you are.

He looked at you, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. —You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I wasn’t there for you or the kids.

You frowned, shaking your head. —Don’t say that. You’ve always done your best for us, Checo. And yes, there were times when we missed you, when I wished you could’ve been home more. But we understood. We always understood. Racing was your dream, and we chose to support you because we love you.

His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt etched into every line of his face. —I just feel like I’ve let you down. I wasn’t there for the birthdays, the first steps, the hard days. I missed so much.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. —You didn’t let us down. You showed our kids what it means to chase a dream, to work hard, to never give up. And now? Now it’s time to show them what it means to find strength in the people who love you.

Checo’s throat tightened, and he set the mug down, pulling you into his arms. You sank into his embrace, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away.

—I don’t deserve you. —he whispered against your hair.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. —Maybe not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.

He laughed softly, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the room. —I love you. —he said, his voice steadier now. —More than anything. Thank you for always being my anchor.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. —And I’ll always be here, Sergio. Whether you’re racing or not, whether you’re on top of the world or starting from scratch. You’re my husband, the father of our kids, and the love of my life. That’s what matters.

The clock struck midnight, and the sound of distant fireworks filled the air. Checo leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke of gratitude, love, and hope.

As the new year began, he realized that while his career might be uncertain, his family was his constant. And with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever the future held.

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Anniversary gift & celebration for them. With their son, Jack. Up to you how it goes. Fluff and romantic . Thanks!! :))

a/n: considering i didn't have time until now to write, bcause ya know college, i immediately got an idea when i saw the request of how the story should go and wrote it in like two hours, don't think i ever wrote anything so quickly, hope you enjoy it!!<3

SAY CHEESE! //TW\\ one shot

pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

description: Usually, anniversary in the Wolff household are not celebrated, sickness, work or both tend to take up space. Now that they managed to have a peaceful anniversary, they’re going to make the best of it.

word count: 1957 words

warnings: none, the Wolff's being adorable, Toto being a prick (lovingly), a little suggestive

If it were up to you, you wouldn't wake up today even if you were to be dragged out.

It was your wedding anniversary, a day you always got off. A day to relax with your husband and son. But in the last few years, you didn't get to celebrate. Each year someone had to be sick or work had to be short-staffed.

So now, as you felt the bed next to you dip, a groaned escaped your throat. An arm slowly wrapped around you and lips lightly brushed your neck. Turning around, you were met with your husband's smiling face.

˝Good morning schatzi...˝ he said and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

˝Please, tell me no one is sick...˝ you mumbeled. He laughed.

˝Not this year, love. Although I think Jack is sick of sitting in the kitchen alone, while I'm here waking you up...˝he said and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. ˝Come on, Jack wants to show us something and we both have to be there to see it.˝ he said, pulling you up. You groan in protest.

˝Can't he come in here and show us...˝ you heard Toto laugh as he kept pulling you out of the bed.

˝Get up, schatzi...˝ he softly said as you stood up. He wrapped you in his arms, whispering in your ear. ˝Happy anniversary, love...˝he said, kissing your temple.

˝Happy anniversary to you, too...˝ you whisper, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. You felt him hum against your lips, pulling you closer by the hips. The moment was broken by a shrill yell of both your names and you sighed. ˝As much as I love that kid, I sometimes wish we remained child-free...˝ Toto laughed and pulled you closer.

˝Don't say that... You know he's impatient...˝ he smiles into your skin.

˝Like his father...˝ You say, giggling.

˝I'm not denying anything... But, from what I remember, his mother was very impatient to get me to bed on our wedding night... Or any other night, really...˝ he teases and you smack him on the chest.

˝Such atrocities come out of your mouth when you are no different...˝you say, making him laugh. ˝Now, let's go see what our son needs from us, hm?˝ with one last kiss, the two of you make your way down to the kitchen.

The sight you were met with was beautiful. The kitchen island was filled with food and your son sat at the end, practically vibrating with excitement.

˝Mama, papa!!! You're up!!˝ he said, running up to hug you. ˝Happy anniversary, mama!! Papa explained to me this morning why it's important!˝he gushed as he kissed you on the cheek, smiling. You turned your gaze to Toto and were met with a soft expression. ˝Papa and I made breakfast! I helped with the eggs!!˝ he said happily, pulling you towards the counter.

You lifted Jack onto his chair and took your place at the counter. Toto placed a plate in front of you and you smiled at him. The waffles were shaped into hearts, and adorned with wild berries and cinnamon. He winked in your direction and you rolled your eyes.

˝What's the plan for today, hm?˝ you asked, taking a bite of your waffles.

˝I planned a photo shoot and thought we could go to the park a little... Then, your mother is picking Jack up and we are going out for dinner... Made our reservation a few weeks ago...˝ Toto said, sipping his coffee. You smiled. He turned to Jack and smiled at our son. ˝You said you had something to show mama and I something...˝ Our son smiled wide and jumped off his chair. He pulled out a piece of paper from his school bag.

˝SEE! I drew us at school! Here is papa, this is me...And here's mama!˝ he said with a wide, toothy grin. You smiled and lifted him up into your lap.

˝Look at you! You've gotten better at drawing honey. And you even managed to capture daddy's messy hair...˝ you kissed your son's cheek and looked up at your husband. He was smiling and shaking his head.

˝Good job, buddy. And don't listen to mama, she's just jealous of papa's perfect hair.˝ he moved to kiss your son's forehead, wrapping his arms around you both. You laughed at him, leaning up to kiss him. He smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. ˝How about we get ready for our photoshoot, hm?˝

˝I think that's a good idea... You two get dressed while I do my hair and make-up, then I'll get dressed and we can leave.˝ you said, putting Jack down. You gave Toto another kiss and went into the bathroom.

After about an hour, you walked out of the bathroom, wearing one of your favorite dresses and a subtle pair of heels. You could feel Toto checking you out as you finished getting Jack ready.

˝Jack, isn't mama looking absolutely stunning, hm?˝ Toto asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lightly kissing your neck. Jack nodded vigorously, smiling wide. He laughed at his reaction, before whispering in your ear. ˝Can't wait to have you all to myself tonight...˝

You laugh at his suggestion, swatting at him.

˝Behave yourself... And stop crinkling my dress!˝ Toto smiles and moves away.

˝Ok ok...˝ he mumbles, leaving a light kiss on your neck.

The pictures were perfect—absolutely perfect. Jack's smile blinded anyone who looked at them, and Toto and you looked as gorgeous and in love as always.

After the shoot, the three of you made your way to a fancy brunch place Toto picked out saying: 'It would only be right if we went out and had a little snack while we're dressed up'. It was located in the middle of the park, surrounded by beautiful trees and colorful flowers. Jack got waffles and a hot chocolate, a little treat for being good at school. The two of you had coffee and a piece of cake to share, something you have done ever since your first date. It confused your son as to why you two had to share a piece, to which you smiled and told him 'He'd understand later'.

At home, your mother waited for you to return. She made herself coffee, took some of the waffles from the morning, and turned on her favorite show to watch.

˝I see you made yourself right at home, hm?˝ you giggle as the older woman turns to you. She smiled and stood up, hugging you once she came close enough.

˝Of course I did. Happy anniversary, my sweet girl... And you too, Toto...˝ she hugged Toto as well. She turned to Jack who ran into her arms. ˝And my handsome young man! How've you been, Jackie, hm?˝ your son giggled and hugged her, starting to ramble on about school and new kids he met. As he spoke, your mother subtly moved to the front door, winked at you, and left without a word.

˝So? Are you going to get ready for dinner?˝Toto asked and you looked down at your dress. He smiled. ˝I would suggest you change into that pretty red dress I got you to wear recently... It'll be more fitting...˝ he moved closer to you, grabbing your hips and kissing your neck. You hummed and raked your fingers through his hair.

˝I will if you let me go...˝ he chuckled at you and let go of his tight grip on your hips, letting his hands linger. You smile, making your way to get ready for the second time that day.

A little while later you walked out, red carpet ready. The wine red dress, black heels and sharp makeup... Toto was stunned. He knew you'd look gorgeous, but this was... Something extraordinary.

˝Mein Gott, schatzi... I don't even want to go out now...˝ he said, awe struck. You giggle and walked over to him. He grabbed your waist and smiled down. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you get on your tip toes and kiss him, his hands sliding down to your ass. You gasp, smacking his chest.

˝Toto!˝you say and move away from him. He huffs and smiles at you, grabbing both your coats. You stand with our back to him as he helped you get the coat on. Making your way to the car, Toto held the door open for you as you stepped into the Mercedes.

At the restaurant, he reserved a table in the corner of the balcony, looking over the vineyard. The candles on the table glowed romantically, casting a warm light onto your faces. Toto smiled warmly as you looked on over the railing.

˝Enjoying the view, love?˝ he asked softly, a hand coming closer to rest on yours gently. You turn your head to him and smile.

˝Yeah... I don't remember the last time we had any time just for us... Or the last time we celebrated our anniversary...˝ you answered and Toto laughed.

˝Remember when we did this once a week?˝ he asked and you laughed, tilting your head down.

˝Yeah... Can't believe that we came down to going on dates once in a blue moon... But I'm happy...˝ You say, smiling softly. Toto brings your hand up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss just as the waiter came with your wine. You giggled and thanked the waiter. ˝I love you, Toto...˝

˝I love you too, schatzi...˝ he smiled and kissed your hand once again. You smiled at him as well, moving your hand to cup his face.

The two of you spent the evening feeling more relaxed than ever, finally having a moment to properly talk. Everything was the topic. Work, friends, annoying family members... After dinner, you went out for a walk.

˝You know what this reminds me of Toto? Our first date...˝ you reminisce and giggle. Toto's laugh rings out, his head thrown back.

˝Mein Gott, I completely forgot what happened that night...˝ he whispered. He looked over at you and his eyes went wide. You giggled at him, seeing his reaction.

˝I was waiting to see if you would spill wine on my dress again... The red dress, vineyard date, a walk in the part after... trademark Wolff date... I didn't want to say anything to see if you'd realize... Seems you ARE getting old...˝ you laugh and stand in front of him, still holding his hand. He gasps and starts laughing.

“You are only 4 years younger than me, that makes you old as well!” Toto said, making you laugh.

The two of you soon reached the pond in the parks centre. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the waters surface, the air was crisp and the crickets created a subtle noise in the background. You shivered and Toto immediately wrapped his suit jacket around you.

“Can’t have you catching a cold now, hm?” He said, kissing your head. You smiled and shuffled closer into his side.

Your brows furrowed as you felt something hard press into your waist. You backed away and put your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a velvet box. You looked up, only to be met with your husband, smirking down at you.

“Open it, schatzi…” he said quietly. Your manicured fingers fiddled with the little latch and as the box opened, it revealed a beautiful silver necklace with light green gems.

“Toto…” you whispered and felt his arms wrap around you.

“Happy anniversary, my love…” he whispered back and lightly placed his lips on yours, capturing you in a gentle and loving kiss.

animated banner by @cafekitsune <3

TAGS

@yllomhej @walldemons @shelbyteller @reidsworld @pear-1206 @cheyxfu @lightdragonrayne @noooway555

if anyone else wants to be added, DM me or enter your username in the google form pinned on my blog!

Can you write a Toto fic where him and his wife were married for 20 years and then divorced and they see eachother again after 4 years of no contact?

After All This Time

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pairing: toto wolff x exwife!reader

summary: After 20 years of marriage and four years of silence, Toto Wolff and his ex-wife cross paths at a gala. What begins as a polite conversation soon reveals lingering emotions, unspoken regrets, and the possibility that some connections are never truly broken.

warnings: Themes of divorce and unresolved emotions and bittersweet tones with implied angst and longing.

The clinking of glasses, low hum of conversations, and the occasional sound of laughter filled the room. Toto Wolff stood at the edge of the gala, his usual composed demeanor masking the slight unease he felt. He wasn’t one for these events anymore; they always seemed too polished, too formal. But tonight, he had been convinced to attend.

He scanned the room casually, his eyes falling on familiar faces: team principals, drivers, sponsors. And then, he saw her.

It had been four years since their divorce. Twenty years of marriage undone, leaving behind only memories, regrets, and the occasional pang of guilt that crept in during quiet moments. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, let alone feel the weight of her presence so acutely.

She stood by the bar, her smile as effortless as he remembered, though her laughter seemed freer now. She was talking to someone he didn’t recognize, and Toto found himself frozen in place, torn between the urge to approach her and the fear of reopening old wounds.

Before he could decide, her eyes caught his. The smile faltered, just for a moment, replaced by something he couldn’t quite read. Recognition? Curiosity? Pain? She excused herself from her conversation and began walking toward him.

Toto straightened his posture, his years of dealing with high-stress situations kicking in. But nothing could prepare him for this.

—Hello, Toto —she said softly, her voice laced with an undeniable familiarity that made his chest tighten.

He nodded, offering a small smile. —Hello.

There was a pause, not quite awkward but not comfortable either. They were two people who had shared everything once, now strangers navigating a conversation as if treading on glass.

—It’s been a long time —she said, breaking the silence.

—Four years —he replied, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile. —You always were good with numbers.

He chuckled, the sound low and brief. —And you were always better with words.

Another pause. He wanted to say so much, ask so many things—how she had been, if she was happy, if she missed him the way he missed her during quiet nights. But none of those words felt right, so he asked the simplest question.

—How have you been?

She hesitated, her gaze drifting to the drink in her hand. —Good. Different, but good. And you?

He nodded slowly. —Busy. The team keeps me occupied.”

—That doesn’t surprise me —she said, her tone lighter. —You always thrived under pressure.

—Not always —he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Her eyes softened, and he knew she understood what he meant.

They fell into silence again, the air between them thick with memories. He wanted to reach out, to say the things he never could when they parted. But would it change anything?

—I didn’t expect to see you here —she said eventually.

—Nor did I —he admitted. —But I’m… glad I did.

Her expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across her face. —I should go. It was nice seeing you, Toto.

Before she could turn away, he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her arm. —Wait.

She stopped, looking back at him, and for the first time that night, he allowed the vulnerability to show.

—I’ve missed you —he said quietly.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, he saw the same pain mirrored in her eyes. But then she smiled—a bittersweet, knowing smile.

—I’ve missed you too —she whispered.

And with that, she walked away, leaving him standing alone in the crowded room, the echoes of her words lingering in the air.

Heyyy!!!! This is my first request and it’s about my man Toto 😜. Thank you for requesting this anon, I hope to see more of these. And also hope u like it, remember that English is not my first language ‼️