#*gives anon a million dollars*

[hood-ex]

can I just say that, as an nyc resident, the brownstone being Bruce’s “I’m poor now” house is so funny to me. brownstones in manhattan go for MINIMUM ten mil, while the brooklyn ones tend to go for the slightly more reasonable price of 2 mil lmao. I know it’s gotham and all but. cmon 😂

Bruce sitting on his brownstone steps in a designer robe, sipping on the tea Damian made for him.

-sigh- "I've fallen on hard times 😔."

[peterspinkrobe]

Genuinely, the best fucking fic I have ever read. I- the tension. The YEARNING! it’s I- you deserve everything

whatdidyousay ? whydidyousaythat ?

srsly I don’t know how to just say thank you so instead I cry softly while smiling, silencing my insecurities

[fireinmywoods]

🍭 & 🌿

🍭why did you start writing?

Writing has always been my primary creative outlet. I am terrible at every form of visual (fine) art at which I've tried my hand, and a fumbling wreck when it comes to crafts and other applied mediums; I played two instruments growing up but was never much good at either of them; I do not recommend watching me dance, though I will do so with great cheer and enthusiasm. But writing just...came naturally. As a kid I wrote weird little girl stories with delusions of grandeur, and then in middle school I participated with some nerdy distinction in a sort of creative writing version of mathletes, and then at some point I stumbled into the concept of fanfiction back when we were all on Yahoo! mailing lists and Angelfire sites, and, well, here I am all these years later. Fanfic is not the only form of writing I do, but it is certainly one of my most treasured!

🌿how does creating make you feel?

It really depends. I go through stages with every fic, and each stage feels different - plus, of course, it feels different to write something frothy and light than it does something complex with a lot of research needed to flesh out the plot framework, which in turns feels different than writing something heavy with pain or anger or trauma. When it's going well, though - when it just seems to flow, and big picture and in-the-weeds inspiration are both in ready supply - there's genuinely nothing like it. It feels...powerful, I guess. Tapped in, somehow. There are very few things I wouldn't trade for a solid several hours of that feeling.

fic writer asks

[hiptobeitalian]

A curious anon asks a pizza-related question:

Hey Peppino, what's the worst type of pizza to prepare? Asking for a friend, of course.

❛ Uh huh...your-a "friend" wanted to know? Well, tell-a your "FRIEND" that the answer--for-a ME personally--is ANYTHING that includes pineapple. It's-a CRIME to have that on a pizza and I've already fought in this metaphorical war long ago. Sadly, NOBODY wants to listen to the Italian when he says that they would-a be arrested once they step foot in-a Italy if they continue to defend this-a...fruit. L'ananas sarà la mia morte, lo giuro... Still, I-a need the cash so I gotta make 'em. That's-a life. ❜

❛ Runner up goes to those-a garlic pizzas Wario orders and how they stink up the restaurant. Luckily he's the only one crazy enough to ask for-a that so no need to rant about 'em. ❜

[softandwildx]

imagining you as a stereotypical tourist in bloodborne with khaki shorts and a little fanny pack lol

Lmaoooo that really would be me though. Pulling out the snack pack and posting to insta. Thank you for gifting me this image 😂

[cherry-leclerc]

million dollar man ☆ toto wolff

genre: age gap, porn with plot, angst, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature, mentions of homicide, bits of humor, child neglection, divorced!toto

word count: 16.5k

Toto Wolff, self-made billionaire, is on cloud nine; he has all he’s ever wanted. A beautiful wife, family, a great team. But when that starts slipping from his fingers, he desperately tries to keep hold of what is not his anymore. As a possible solution to cure his blues, Lewis kindly invites him to a place he runs off to when times get tough; to relieve some stress. But he just never expected a cosplaying angel, dancing around a metal pole, to be his salvation. And also, his cruelest life lesson. 

nsfw warning under the cut! 

18+…dry humping/ thigh riding, sexual tension, penetrative sex, oral sex (m!receiving f!receiving), size kink, breeding kink, praise, foreplay, riding

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

Typically, we keep it light here: occasional minor angst fics, but light, nonetheless. That will not be the case this time around. Because of that, I firmly believe that it is necessary to give a few warnings. There will be mentions of drug-use and homicide and if that is not something you are comfortable with then that is totally okay! I have more options for you to read over at my masterlist! This is purely fictional. With that, this story is based and inspired by Million Dollar Man and Yayo by Lana Del Rey (*run*)—what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. 

cherry here!…toto is like—a special appearance, here in this blog. probably won’t write for him all the time, but hey! we love him!originally this was going to be named yayo but have since changed my mind to million dollar man. IT WILL MAKE SENSE AND I’M SORRY, ANONS. please don’t hate the villain in me. consider yourself warned. 

There was no room for love when it came to the world of motorsport. Toto’s first marriage was a transparent reminder, given its falling out. The Austrian didn’t seem to care, almost; Mercedes was at their prime, but by then, when Susie came along, he felt a gist of hope. She must’ve known the sacrifices that would be made—the expectations. 

And yet, he sat there, signing the divorce papers once again. What had he done wrong this time? He had given her everything she could have ever wanted—spent time he didn’t even have—with her. 

Neither of us were happy anymore, she would whisper apologetically, eyes trained downwards. But I’ll always love you, Toto. You must remember that. 

Suddenly, he was fifty-two and with no true purpose in life other than to stabilize his broken team. If it wasn’t false accusations from other team principals, then it was trouble with the hydraulics, and if it wasn’t that, then it was losing his World Champion. Mercedes was already dwindling down to a mess, but with Lewis leaving—it felt like he was losing his mind. 

“You understand where I’m coming from, right, Toto?” 

Looking up at Lewis and Penni, his manager, the Austrian sighs, forcing a tired smile. No. He didn’t understand—did not want to understand. But he had no right to prevent the Brit from expanding one final time before retirement. I just feel like I need to do this for myself, but thank you for the infinite support. Mercedes will always be home to me. 

Promises. Fuck them, they meant nothing at the end of the day, so why bother? 

“Do what you need to do. I’ll always be here for you; no matter what.”

It was a bittersweet feeling to have. On one hand, the brunette felt optimistic. Maybe this was a chance to start over, perhaps offer up the golden seat to Carlos or Kimi. They had proven themselves in their own way and maybe that could bring better opportunities towards the team.

On the other, he felt like this was it. Maybe it was time to move on, retire with a sorrowful smile and live out the rest of his years. He could try fixing things with Susie. The thing was, he just re-signed as team principal, so none of that would work out even if he wanted to. 

Running a large hand through his brown hair, he groans and takes a sip of whiskey. Wincing at the taste, he jumps up in alert from his seat when there’s a knock on the glass door. May I? He nods.

Entering with an easy smile, Lewis raises his dark brows in a teasing manner. “Drinking ain’t gonna help, I promise you that.”

The brown eyed man grins. “You have something else in mind, cause if so, I’d like to hear it.”

The Brit hums, tilts his head to the side. Lewis had been with Toto for as long as he can remember; he was there when Toto and Susie met, and long after when they tied the knot. He swore they were happy, and that may have been once true, but he also knows sometimes even that can’t be enough. So, when news came out to their inner circle that the two were getting divorced, he felt sorry for him. He knows what it feels like to have it all, to suddenly go to sleep alone every night. But there was always one place that always helped— even people like him.

“You up for Vegas?”

-

He should have said no. He was too old for any of this nonsense. Too mature. Only, one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was entering one of the top-tier stripclubs in all of Las Vegas. He knows that while there is nothing wrong with the profession, he can’t help but feel sinisterly dirty. He blames it on the fact that Lewis was beaming right besides him. Maybe if he hadn’t once been his boss, then the feeling would be different.

“Oh, c’mon. Ease up. No one will even know that you were in here.”

It’s true. While the club was a part of the infamous Vegas strip, it was also exclusively exclusive. No one could get in if there was no form of proving to be millionaires, and even that was ridiculously low. NDA’s would be signed as if it were something normal. Made him wonder what kind of things occurred between these four walls. 

Toto chuckles deeply, dark eyes roaming the entire room, loud music blaring. “How did you even know this place exists?”

Lewis winks, lousy arm waving at the bouncers. “You know how everyone thinks Formula One drivers are players and are up to no good?”

“Yeah?”

He smirks. “Well…they’re fucking right.”

After a couple of drinks, a few new friends—who would make great potential business partners—and a bit of gambling, the fifty-two year old found himself having a decent time. The atmosphere was a tad bit suffocating, but one time won’t kill him. He deserved it. 

“Oh, oh, you might want to take a seat,” Lewis chants excitedly. “People get pissed if you block their view.”

Abruptly, the stage lights up. It was a bit alarming, the sudden speed these men took to claim their seats, trampling over each other to get front row. Carefully, he crouches down onto the couch of giddy men. This wasn’t a normal setting; girls were caged behind glass as if to protect them from these males and their slithering actions. A red head professionally swings around the steel pole, black skirt flowing, adding to the illusion men love to taste. 

Whoops and hollers echo the red room as the Brit nudges Toto’s broad shoulder with a wicked grin. “Good, no? She’s my favorite.”

The Austrian scrunches his nose, half joking, half not. “Is this why you were always dozing off during our meetings?”

“Exactly why.”

It was an impressive art, he’ll give credit where credits due, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, but that’s about it. When he stood up to go and order a new drink, a string of boos were thrown at him. Even Lewis shook his head with disapproval. Man, you’re missing the show! He sends a sly grin. “I’m tough to win over, but they’re great, don’t get me wrong.”

The bartender shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s what they all say. Until they lay eyes… on her.”

“On who?” He’s quickly hushed as soon as the room changes gears. The once red club enhances into a soft yellow glow, the fast paced music slows down to an angelic piano intro. 

A round of applause for everyone’s favorite girl—Peaches!

If the fifty-two year old ever thought he’s heard it all; loud cheers from fans, loud cheers for the other dancers; then he must have been mistaken, and awfully foolish. His ears ring with the sudden howls from everyone in the room. Turning around, he’s found with a girl, standing with golden angel wings. A shiny reflection colors her hair as she delicately bows, shy smile sewn onto her pouty lips. White dress wrapped around her figure as if it was tailored for her, and only her. 

Yayo.

The way she pranced inside the glass box like a butterfly makes the men grow wild as they pant feverishly. She’s barely doing anything—hasn't even done half as much as what the other girls had done—and somehow, all eyes are drawn on her like a sticky potion. Toto’s heartbeat gets stuck in his throat as he tries his best to swallow it down. Sad eyes flicker throughout the club as she spins, dress fluttering like a flower in the summer breeze. 

You’re someone desirable in all senses, and it appears as if you know it as well. 

Let me put on a show for you, daddy. 

Dropping down to your knees, you crawl towards the glass as you draw your soft brows together, as if pleading to be let out. Hot breath paints the glass before you press a kiss. 

Then, you’re looking at him, and it’s as if you could point out all the fucked up shit he’s ever done. His heart speeds up as you tie your shiny legs along the pole, sensually spinning as you throw your head back. Like a signal, water sprinkles inside the box as it lubricates you down, dark mascara trickling your features. 

Arms toss your hair back before sharing a quick wave as you step out, red lights turning back on. And just like that, Toto is left empty and alone once again.

“That shit was insane,” the Brits voice shakes him away from your spell as he flops down on the stool right next to him. “She must be new because I for sure wouldn’t have forgotten a pretty face like hers. What’d you think?”

Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”

-

Thank you, Ro, you say as you sign on the bottom x, waving him off as he tilts his head in agreement. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be outside, like always. 

Even after all this time, you still got trepidatious. There came times where the connection was completely off, that you just wanted to bolt away, screaming like a baby. But you needed this job to survive, plus, it paid a pretty penny. 

“Where do you want me?”

Once you spot the massive businessman, manspreading on the couch that he made out to look like a toy, you gulp. You had caught a glimpse of him already, basically performed for him, but you didn’t think he was the one who called for you.

He’s strikingly handsome in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend. Dark, untamed hair covers his face. Long nose catches your attention as you squirm. His hands are practically the size of your face and you could only imagine what his thick fingers must feel like. Curiously, your eyes dwindle down to his lap as you picture what rests between his legs.

“Oh, right. Um…”

You grin. “First time?”

He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”

“Hmph. Heard that one before.” Inching closer, you pour a glass of water. “Here. It’ll help.”

His hand swallows you whole as you gape down at the difference. Electricity zaps you as you flinch and he catches on. Bringing the cup towards his pink lips, he closes his eyes, lashes fanning his tan skin. Being taken care of by a beautiful, young lady, made him cringe in all kinds of ways. He felt like a child, then like an old man. To be fair, he sort of was.

“I’m not here for…you know.” You quirk a neat brow. You don’t want to fuck me? Your question has him choking on the ice as he raises his hand up. “N-no, I just th—”

“I’m afraid you’re just wasting my time, and time is money. Have a good day, Mr. Wolff.”

Gaining his composure, Toto storms over to you, grabbing your hand. “I’ll still pay you. Triple what you make, but please don’t go.”

Your cheeks are dusted light pink when you turn around, wings brushing against him. If you’re lucky, you reach his toned chest, but the height difference was scary. Enticing. You almost wish he would fuck you like a pornstar. 

“You know what a girl wants to hear. I’m in.”

Turns out, he just wanted a companion. Someone who wouldn’t pity him. Didn’t hurt that you were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, either. Narrowing your eyes, you click your tongue. “She said that?”

He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”

“Perhaps, but that’s what a marriage is for. You change, sure, but you change together. Things can’t possibly stay that same, that’s just stupid.” Tucking your legs beneath your butt, you continue. “And what? Your number one driver decides to leave out of the blue? Even after it was mutually decided that he would stick around at least until 2026?”

That was something no one knew, but who were you going to tell? Toto grimaces. “It sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“It fucking sucks.”

The Austrian chuckles deeply at your outburst. You blush at the cunning sound. “You’re a terrific listener. I’m glad you stuck around to talk.”

“I’m glad I did, too.” You play with the hem of your dress. “You’re a kind man, Toto. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

-

He slips away that night with a tranquility he hasn’t felt in quite a while. On the way back to Monaco, he wonders if you were some kind of guardian that he had to meet in order to move on from his bittersweet feelings. Because it sure did feel like it since he felt he now knew what it is that he had to do in the upcoming season. All thanks to you. 

“…Toto….Hello?” Bono smacks his hand against the table and the Austrian flinches. They were in the talks of what position he would stay in now that Lewis was departing from his life-long engineer. “Do you want me to continue or?”

The brunette clears his throat, awkwardly. “We have a few weeks of break before the new season begins, correct?”

“Correct.”

He stands up to his full height. “Then let’s talk later. Enjoy your break, Bono. See you soon.” Then he’s walking out the sliding doors, with a dumbfounded engineer piercing his eyes at his large back.

Elizabeth, Toto’s rough voice speaks to his personal assistant. Clear my schedule for the next few weeks. Oh, and also; get me the first flight out to Las Vegas. 

-

Cursing at the dusty wind, you huddle your way into your beat up car, fingers sliding your Dior glasses down the bridge of your nose. They were a gift from a recent client, and you never shamed them away. Taking a sip of your sparkling water, you sigh in relief at the refreshing taste. Screw Nevada for being annoyingly hot. 

Tap tap. 

Squinting your eyes at your window, you only catch a glimpse of a man’s clothed crotch as you yelp. Swinging the door open, you take out your pepper spray. “Go away creep, I will use this if necessary!”

"Warten! Warten!"

“Huh?”

“I said wait,” a thick accent clarifies. You bite back a smile. “Hello.”

Bringing your hands up to your hips, you giggle. “Hello, Mr. Wolff. Back for more?”

He can try and pretend that he was better than crawling back to you, even if all you both did was have a meaningful conversation, but he doesn’t have time for lies. 

“I just wanted to thank you.” Your lips separate, slowly. “For everything. You helped me figure out lots of things.”

“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”

Intaking your soft aura, he closes his right eye due to the bright sun. “Can I take you out for coffee?”

-

You didn’t go out for coffee at a local cafe, but rather at his mansion he just blew his money on without batting an eye. Inhaling the yummy scent, you swoon. “This smells amazing.” 

He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”

“Authentic. How’d you get it?”

“Don’t underestimate power.” Your eyes grow wide at his cold tone and the Austrian laughs. “Relax. I’m from Germany. It’s my favorite, so I always carry one with me. Call me old-fashioned.”

“Let’s just leave it at old.”

He flashes a devious grin, lines tracing his face. “Ha-ha. But seriously, thank you for helping me out of my little…crisis.” Midlife crisis, you correct him as he glares. You snicker. 

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sure, you cheer as you sip on the hot drink. He fixes his glasses. “How did you end up working at Machiavellian Nights?” Your stomach drops. “You don’t have to answer.”

“No.” He nods. “I’ll tell you, because oddly enough, I trust you.” Okay, he whispers. “Are you close to your parents?” 

“What?” Are you? He nods again. You smile sadly. 

“That’s lovely, Toto. Appreciate that.” You release a shaky breath. “My father passed away when I was fifteen and my mother pretends to not know me.”

He gulps and you continue. “It was not always like that, though. We had a close relationship. She would braid my hair every night before bed. I would curl hers before every date. She was an amazing woman. One I could admire.”

“What happened?”

You lower your head, lips wobbling. Letting out a wet laugh, you brush a hand up against your nose. “Men are deceiving. Men are shit. Men are a complete waste of time and— I miss who my mom used to be.”

Handing you a napkin, you silently thank him. “She met him when I was only seventeen. It was fine at first; I was so happy for her. I would be moving out for college eventually, so I felt relieved that she had someone to rely on. Connor was great.”

The fifty-two year old is momentarily lost. Nothing sounds as bad as it seems, but he refrains from telling you so. “Then she got pregnant. Oh, Toto, I was so excited. A baby sister. Could you imagine? I bought everything my first job could afford. Onesies, blankies, pampers, I bought it all. And I never once expected anything in return.”

“That’s where things began to change. Connor swore I was trying to win my mom over and leave Rosie with nothing. Kicked me out before I even had a chance to defend myself. I thought —okay, I’ll just talk to her and explain that it was never my intention to do any of that. But she wouldn’t listen. She gave birth six months ago.”

“And you ended up...” You hum, bringing the mug up to your lips. 

“It was either that or fast food. Salary is shit in that industry. And the customers aren’t bad. I could say yes or no at any given time.”

The brunette fiddled with his watch. “So, you could have turned me away?” Laughing, you nod. He fakes a smug look. “And why didn’t you?”

Tapping a lazy finger onto your chin, you close your eyes before fluttering them open. “I had a feeling you had shit locked away. Just like me.”

-

He bids you farewell, claiming he was glad to have met you, even with such circumstances. The way he hugs you goodbye makes the pit of your stomach fuel with fire as you brush away the urge to climb onto him and kiss his pain away, even if he promises to not feel any. 

Take care of yourself, you beg, head resting beneath his heart. His breath hitches. You need to look after yourself, above all. Oh. And good luck with the new season. 

He wonders why such a pretty plea makes his heart break. Perhaps it was because even though your life was at rock bottom, you still looked out for others. Or maybe it was him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it at all. He wouldn’t try either because as stated before, he was leaving for good. He could make room to visit you the next time he was here for the Las Vegas GP. Even then, he wouldn’t risk you like that.

But like a kid at a candy shop, he finds himself signing the NDA once again. Welcome back, Mr. Wolff. The usual? “That sounds great, thank you.” Taking a seat, he watches the vivid room, hoping to spot you. Set after set, he’s torn when you don’t show up. Others seem to notice you missing as they violently spit slurs of; Bring out the pretty one! 

“Would you be kind enough to treat me to a sweet drink? Paloma’s are my favorite.”

Your sultry voice salutes him like a perfect hug as he looks down to where you bite down onto the inside of your cheek. Your eyes crinkle as you beam up at him. “You’re here…”

“I always am.”

He cringes, desperation humbling him as you take a seat. “Your act…you didn’t go on and I just thought you were out sick or something?” Leaning over to take a sip of his dark drink, loopy eyes train on him before sighing.

“Ugh, I wish. I’m on my period. I asked for the night off, but I’m still up to no good. Make a little bit of money, eh.” He clenches his jaw. “What are you doing here anyways, Toto? Oh shit—Mr. Wolff.” Smiling warmly at the bartender, you hug your red lips around the glass.

“I wanted to see you.”

Choking on the fruity drink, you clutch onto his thigh. He stiffens, but still pats your exposed back. You wore a silky red dress, just like the rest of the girls strutting through the busy club, but somehow, it looked better on you. Enhancing your soft features, tugging against your curves like an envelope. Perky tits begging to be licked— sucked on. 

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.” You frown. “I have no idea, but you’ve lingered on my mind from the moment I saw you, dancing sadly. Why was that?” 

You purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffs. “Think a little bit harder, then.” His firm tone makes you sit up straight, drawing circles on his lap, as a tactic to not pull your strong gaze away. You don’t even notice his hard cock pushing up against the denim. 

“I had just received a restraining order against Rosie.” He deflates. “I’ve never even met my newborn sister and they got a fucking restraining order.” You scoff. “Unbelievable.”

Toto was lucky enough to be a part of his kids' lives, but simply picturing the idea of Stephanie or Susie getting a restraining order against him, crushed him. Seeing you so upset about it makes him want to track down your mother and Connor and yell at them for how they’ve treated you. But then he would probably find himself with a similar piece of paper.

“Just when I think they’ve done it all, there always seems to be more.” You laugh, taking another sip of your cold drink. “They’re getting clever.”

“How are you so okay with any of this?”

You narrow your eyes, offended by his question. “You think I am? Toto, I feel like the odd one out. My own mother makes me feel like a culprit for simply wanting to give my baby sister a pair of shoes.” The brunette furrows his brows. You giggle. “I got Rosie a pair of ballet shoes. They’re the cutest thing you’ll ever see.” 

His lips quirk upwards. “So, you’ve tried to meet her?” You shake your head, hair whiplashing. I called my mom, brought up the idea. I guess she didn’t like it because next thing I knew, hello, restraining order. It’s sick. “They don’t deserve you.”

Your mouth stays agape as you blink back at him, doe eyes ringing him in. “I’m done trying. I get tired too, y’know?” Edging closer to your seat, you cup your hands against his ear, getting a whiff of his musky, expensive scent. You almost let out a moan. “You have kids, right? Were they cute when they were babies?” 

He nods, enthusiastically. “They’re heaven sent.” Your eyes twinkle, and he feels bad for a split second. “Want to see?” He dangles his phone towards you as you beam. Do you mind? “Not at all. As a father, you must know, I like to brag about them.” Rolling your eyes, you swipe through his gallery as you coo.

“Oh my goodness! She looks just like you,” you point out when you spot a blond girl. He grins. That’s Rosa. Flickering your eyes up to him, you gasp. “Rosie.” 

“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”

Your grin widens. “Oh, handsome. Just like his father.” Benedict, he informs you as he blushes at the comment. Swiping once more, you tilt your head. “Very cute—like insanely adorable—but he doesn’t resemble you at all.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

“That’s my youngest, Jack. He looks just like his mother.” He retrieves the phone from you before handing it back. Squinting, you analyze the older blond. “Identical. It’s almost as if you didn’t partake in the game, Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Burning up, you rip your gaze away from the device, trying to erase your filthy thoughts. Especially of him and his ex-wife. “She seems nice. Beautiful, too.” He hums, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 

“I can tell you have a soft spot for kids.”

“I don’t want to scare you off, but it’s an obsession. I can’t wait to be a mommy.” He swallows a groan at your innocent wish. “I would try to be the best; I just know I would.” 

The Austrian rubs his arm. “It’s getting late. Are you still going to be around?” 

You yawn. “I think I’m out of here, too.” 

“Can I take you home?”

The sexual tension is as thick as thieves. It suffocates you whole as you stare out the window of his Mercedes Benz. His digits taps against the leather wheel, legs barely fitting from how massive he is. Head almost touching the roof of his car. I swear I’ll go back to school, God, but please help me keep the last bits of my dignity. 

“How tall are you?” Come again? You gulp. “What’s your height? Curious, that’s all.”

His head rolls back, Adam’s Apple jumping up and down. “Meters or in feet?” You bite down on your tongue. Smart-ass. 

“Feet, if it’s okay with you,” you reply sarcastically. He clicks his tongue in amusement.

“6’5.” 

“Oh my God.” You smile sheepishly when he frowns. “You’re huge.”

“They normally say that after I have sex with them, but thank you.”

Heat rushes to your cheekbones and the tip of your ears. “You know what I meant.”

“Oh, of course, my mistake.” Pulling into your small driveway, he blinks slowly. “You live here?”

“Yes, don’t drool over it, please,” you growl at his rude tone. His brown eyes spin towards you when you hurriedly grab your things. He grabs the back of your dress quickly and you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s lovely, but I just thought…you said you made good money?”

High heels crunch against small pebbles as you scowl at the fifty-two year old. “I want to go back to Uni and I’m saving up, is that so wrong?” He’s embarrassed now, fixated on the empty passenger seat. You scoff. “Glad we agree. Good night, dickhead.”

Toto lets out a quiet laugh. Your eye twitches at the sound. Marching over to his window, you click your fingers as he rolls it down. This is funny to you? “Not at all. You acting like a child is.” 

“I am not acting like a child—”

“Oh, you’re not? Fuck. Again, my mistake.” Grinding your molars, you glare at the brunette. He aims for a soft smile. “I wasn’t making fun of your living arrangements, please, do you really think that low of me?” You look away, wiggling your neat brows. “Come and live with me.”

“Excuse me?”

He climbs out of the car, making you stumble back. “In the meantime, while I’m here, which is not for long. When I leave, you can keep the house.”

You grow light headed from his delirious offer. “Are you asking me to have sex with you in return for a new home?” His jaw drops.

“No, I’m being a good friend. You’re a sweet girl who has dealt with some shitty people and I want to help. Please, accept.” His voice is soft but somehow demanding. As if he already knows you’re going to agree. 

Inching closer, you poke his chest. He raises his arms. “Are you real?” Super real, he states, rolling his chocolate eyes. What do you say? 

“But my things—”

“I’ll send for them.”

“My downpayment—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Cool!” you cheer. “Let me just go grab my boyfriend.” His smile falls. Letting out an evil laugh, you clutch onto your stomach. “Ha! You should have seen your face.”

He pinches your forearm and you yelp in surprise. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Too late,” you yodel as you skip around, back into the black Mercedes. “You’re going to regret it anyways.”

-

We still have to talk about the preparations required for the unveiling of the W15. Please tell me you haven’t forgotten? 

Massaging his temples, Toto grimaces. “I haven't, but also, we don’t have to. It’s all ready to go; George and Lewis just need to show up.”

Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”

“Elizabeth, that was implied.” The assistant hums sheepishly as she continues talking his ear off. He groans. “I’ll be there, don’t worry. You’re doing a great job, keep it up. And please, enjoy your break. You’re going to wish you had when the season starts.”

“Of course. Take care, Toto.”

Once they hang up, he picks up on reading through articles about everything and anything people have been saying about Lewis’ new contract with Ferrari. He was happy for his driver, but it still stung. 

“You look tired.”

Chocolate eyes direct over to you where you stand with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. At least he hopes. “Oh, y’know. Catching up on work. Can’t be gone for too long, if not things get out of control.”

Rolling your eyes sarcastically, you slide your way closer to him. “Can I see?”

“See what?”

Squinting at the screen, your eyes glimmer brightly. “I love all things gossip. It’s my guilty pleasure.” Taking a seat on his thick lap, your delicate fingers start playing with the keypad. He grunts, placing both hands behind his head as his jaw ticks. “Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton: The Unstoppable Duo.” You giggle. “He’s cute. Take it back, they both are.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “You’re evil.” 

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you shrug. It looks so soft, he’s itching to run his fingers through it. “I see why you’re upset about this whole—‘I want Lewis! No, I want Lewis!—thing.” His smile falters. “It’s brutal.”

Hauling you off of his lap, he places you on the chair next to him, hoping you wouldn’t notice his hard print. “Is it?”

“Mhmm,” you chirp, chin propped onto your knees. “You must not mind people talking about you.”

“I do mind. I mind a lot.”

Perplexed, you take in his exhausted state. You never wanted to be famous, and seeing him live like this made you realize you had made the right choice. With slight hesitance, you brush his hair back; he sighs in relief. “It’s good to take breaks in between. That way you don’t have a stroke, old man.” His eyes fly open.

“Just because you’re younger, that doesn't mean I’m about to drop dead, sweetheart.” You squirm, forcing his orbs back closed as he squirms at the clumsy action. 

“Wanna feel something nice?”

Toto’s mind wanders to a steamy place once you leap off your chair. His chest heaves up and down from nervousness, hearing your soft steps. Straddling him, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek. Relax, Toto. He nods, grips onto the sides of the wooden chair, knuckles turning ghost white. Digging your hands into his broad shoulder, you begin to massage him at a steady pace. He moans. “How are you so good at this?” Your lips curl.

“I like to think I was a masseuse in my past life, now shhh.” 

The brunette’s main focus was between two things; actually letting loose and enjoying the much needed massage and the urge to slide your panties to the side and fuck you senselessly. Both were pretty good ideas in his book.

“Stop grunting,” you whisper in the nook of his ear as he shudders. You bite down on your pouty lip, leaning all the way back, and his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. His brown eyes flutter open as he admires the way you tower over him, even as you lay back, but also the way your fingers push adamantly against the knots in his shoulders. He growls animalistically. “What did I say, Mr. Wolff?”

Cold stare. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

Grabbing his large hands, you place them over your hips, an inviting smile dancing across your pink lips. Squeeze if you have to. He almost comes inside his pants as you lick your lips once more before continuing your actions. And it almost seems like you want to get a rise out of him. To make him groan, moan, grunt, cry out— for you. 

Purposefully, you dig your knuckles extra hard before pinching down with your nails. He hisses, grasping your sides hard as he throws his head back, floppy hair hitting the chair. You force a whimper away as you feverishly grind against his crotch. That kind of hurt, Toto.

“Fuck…I’m sorry,” he spills out as he starts a massage of his own. You smirk, repeating the same painful actions, pushing him to do the same as before. This was no longer a peaceful massage, you both knew that. It really hurts, you whine as you place a small hand against his chest, hips moving feverishly against his rough pants. The burning sensation makes you let out a pathetic wail as you rest your head against his shoulder. “A-are you okay?”

Then, you press your forehead against his; lustful gaze challenging him while tears cover up your pretty eyes, making them shimmer even more than before. “Never been better.” With one last rub against his slacks, you’re climaxing as you plow your red nails onto him.

Gasping for air, you return to tracing soft circles against his wide shoulders as he’s left dazed and confused. His cock still hurts from how hard he is, but you don’t seem to notice. Or you ignore it. It doesn't matter, because you’re already jumping off him, lips bruised from how hard you had bit down.

“I thought your hands would hurt a lot less, Toto. You ought to be nice to me.” 

Then, you’re skipping away, back into your room like a shy rabbit.

-

After the encounter in the dining room, you pranced around as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing had. Toto’s mind was probably playing tricks on him because there was no way you could act so nonchalant, hallowing your lips around the cherry popsicle. Is it red? You stick your salivating tongue towards him.

“That’s a dumb question.”

You frown. “Grump.” A beat. “Can I take the Mercedes on a spin?”

“No.”

The frown grows deeper. “Why not? I swear I won’t scratch it. In fact, I won’t let anything happen.”

“Tempting, but still no.”

“Fine,” you grumble, munching down on the icy treat. He smiles, fingers typing against his computer. Can I ride you? His digits freeze midair as he flickers his brown eyes over at you. Holding the car keys directly to your face, you hum playfully. Yeah. Why not, Peaches? Just take care of me! “Of course, my sweet Benz. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You are worse than my four year old.” He inhales sharply, rolling up his sleeves as he tries to ease his crazy heartbeat with water. You giggle.

“He said yes.”

“The car talks now?”

You blush. “That’s what I’m sayinggg…”

Analyzing the strand of hair that hits your chin, he folds his hands. “How did you choose Peaches as your stage name?”

You swallow the last piece of your popsicle. “It’s not an interesting story. I have a co-worker who goes by Foxy because she once fucked a fucking grandpa in the woods and he died of a heart attack once he saw a fox. Pretty cool, huh?”

His jaw drops. “You’re crazy.” Shrugging, you kick your legs up on the armrest. He swallows. “But I still want to know. No matter how boring it may seem. I can guarantee you I won’t think the same, pessimist.” 

Gingerly squinting your round eyes, your lips for a thin line. “When I was younger, my mom would bring me a peach everyday after work. That way, when she would pick me up from school, she would have it ready. The sweetest ones were during summer, of course, but the ones out of season were still pretty good. Up to this day, I still don’t know how she got her hands on those.” He nods. “Simple as that.”

“I think it’s sweet.” His long legs stretch out to kick your chair away. You squeal. “Makes you seem a tiny bit human.”

“Hey!”

He smirks. “Way better than Foxy. That story is just a murder case waiting to be taken to trial.”

“She did receive a handsome inheritance,” you whistle and his eyes grow wide. You snicker. “I’m kidding.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you enjoy your job? Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?” You shake your head.

“Wait, let me rephrase. I do enjoy pole dancing. So many outsiders assume we’re sluts, but it’s not like that. It’s an art, whether you believe it or not.” I agree. You grin. “I have fun, but no, I don’t want to do this forever. I want to be an elementary school teacher.”

“Really?”

You wince. “Seems inappropriate, I know, but I think I could be really good at it. I would cut them slices of sweet peaches any chance I get. I’ll even figure out where to buy some more once the season ends.” Scooting closer to the table, you flick your wooden stick onto his lap. He aims for a deadpan expression. “And I just want to make it clear that I do not sleep around. But when I do, it’s because I want to. I have needs too, Toto.”

The fifty-two year old grinds his teeth together. “I’m sure you do.”

-

Wobbling against the shiny tiles, you gasp before a warm hand saves you. You let out a breath of relief, turning to see Toto shaking his head in disapproval. 

“This is why you should leave to work on time. Now you’re just a mess.” Glaring at him, you fix your rollers as you walk out onto the private driveway. You were excluded from the rest of society, but part of you liked that. “How are you even going to get there?”

Spinning around, you almost crash into his chest before you regain your composure, close proximity making you struggle to find the words. “Toto, I never told you this, but…I can fly.”

“I’m being serious.”

You shrug. “I’m going to take the bus. Go back to your precious emails.” As soon as you twiddle your finger, he scoffs. 

“I would take you—”

“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”

“Can you stop talking?” Beady eyes narrow up at him as he continues. “But I can’t because I’m drowning with work…You can take the Mercedes.” Your eyes light up. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

He wishes he was fucking you, but no. “You better treat it like your own.” You click your tongue. See, you shouldn’t have said that because now my alter ego just grew. He points accusingly and you scrunch your nose. I promise. Handing you his keys, he watches carefully as you pull away, blowing him a kiss. 

A few hours pass by before he feels the need to check up on you. He tries texting first. Busy night? Nothing. He tries calling. Nothing. He starts thinking you might've crashed on your way there, so he hurries out the door. 

Paying the taxi driver, he marches past the doors as he is handed a piece of paper. He smiles back politely. “Don’t you guys think we’re past this?” The men take a quick glance at each other before nodding. Have a lovely night, Mr. Wolff. 

Loud music makes the brunette wince, face twisting uncomfortably. Brown eyes study the club as he tries to decipher where you could possibly be. Maybe you didn’t make it and he was right after all. Jogging over to the bartender, Toto pants. “Peaches? Have you seen her?” 

The young man points to the glass box, where you start your set. He sighs in relief as he takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves as he admires. Everyone cheers as you smile erotically. The Austrian can’t help but be one of them too. 

Spotting him, you freeze. You narrow your eyes for a split second before you snap out of it, continuing your desirable movements. The music ends and just like that, you’re done. Hollering echoes the room when you brush past by. 

“What are you doing here?” 

A cheesy grin plays out. “I came to see you.” Weren’t you busy with work? He shakes his head. “Well, yes actually, but I thought you were dead in a ditch when you didn’t reply to my message or answer any of my calls.”

“Why could that be? Oh. Maybe because I’m working,” you hiss. “Listen, if you’re here as a client— fine. But if you’re here as Toto— leave.”

He narrows his eyes sharply and your breath hitches. “It’s Mr. Wolff, darling.”

You purse your lips. “Very well, Mr. Wolff.” Strutting away, you make sure you sway your hips. The brunette groans, falling back against his chair. 

The night flies by as usual, until they book you. “Mr. Straforx, sitting in the back booth,” Ro informs you as you suck on your bottom lip, listening attentively. “Interested?” 

“Very.”

“Actually, I am too.”

The rich accent makes your stomach flip as you muster up a stern glare. Toto’s lips form a firm line as he stands as tall as a sequoia. Fuming, you shake your head, perfectly done hair slapping your face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wolff, but I already agreed to somebody else. But rest assured, if I have time left, then I will get to you.”

“Is money the issue here?”

Your jaw ticks, temples grinding together harshly. “You think that’s all I care about?”

He shrugs. “I could lie and say no, but who am I kidding? We all care about money.”

Flustered, you scoot closer to Ro, who stands amused with the entire interaction. “Ro, tell Mr. Straforx that I’ll be there in a minute, and make sure to apologize on my behalf.” The older man nods, tipping his head towards the Austrian as he strolls away. “What are you trying to do, Toto?”

His lips flip to a teasing smile. “Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, don’t you dare pull that card on me.” Your face pinches up. “This is an important client, I can’t say no.”

“How much do you want in order for you to come with me instead of him?” Your berry lips separate. “Name a price. I’m a self-made billionaire, sweetheart—a couple of millions are nothing to me.”

“I could never ask for you to do that,” you whisper, timidly fiddling with your necklace. “Deal with it. You’re not my boyfriend.”

His nose flares at the cruel reminder. “I never claimed to be. I’m a client.” Pause. “Two million.”

You gasp. “Are you insane?”

“You’re right, that’s childsplay. How about five?” When you still don’t say anything, he grins devilishly as he places a large hand on the lower part of your back. “Ro! Yeah, tell Me. Straforx that she’s coming with me. I’ll give you a bonus, don’t worry.” Your friend nodded happily. Press the button if you need anything. 

You roll your eyes, sourly. “Thank you, Ro. Thank you so much.” Pushing you into the private room, you yelp. “Let go of me!”

The brunette scoffs. “Calm down, I was barely even touching you.”

Shivering, you focus your attention on the luxurious drinking options. Half of these were probably worth what you make in a year, but the rich fed off of that. The brown eyed man hums. “Is that something you’re interested in?” You quirk a brow. A drink? He shakes his head. “Do you want me to touch you?”

You blink up at him swiftly, rubbing your thighs together. “You’re reading into it. I don’t.” Digging his large hands into his pockets, he clicks his tongue. Okay. Then ask me to leave. We can pretend none of this ever happened. A sad whine bubbles up your throat as you fear that he might actually walk out if you even dared to imply. “Just don’t be a jerk.”

A threatening chuckles booms past his lips as he serves himself a drink you can’t even pronounce. He takes a slow sip before he raises his glass up towards you. “You’re getting to me a  bit more than I’d like to admit. I mean, you must know that, right?” Demented, you play with your dress. 

Tonight, you were cosplaying a wide-eyed devil. There was nothing threatening about your appearance, not if you didn’t count your crimson red lips. Plump, round, tempting. Your black gartner drives him to complete insanity as you bite down on your bottom lip, nervously. Your red dress is too short for his liking, but only because others get to enjoy the sight of your heavenly legs. The ones he was drooling over to nuzzle his face in between. Then your horns tussle your hair messily as you pant. He hasn’t even touched you and you were already dripping.

“That’s not true, Mr. Wolff.” The grin widens.. 

“You can call me Toto when we’re alone, sweetheart.” You shiver, lowering your gaze. No, you were right. It has to stay professional in this setting. The brunette rolls his tongue before squinting his eyes at you, fine lines forming. The sight alone makes you melt. “You should have thought about that before you came all over my thigh.”

Shocked at his vulgar words, you bat your eyes, flustered by the reminder. You had done that. But you had the upper hand that day and that was long gone as he towered over you. Inching closer, he drops down to his knees, him still appearing taller even with the action. You squirm. 

“You were not playing fair that day. How come you only got to finish, and I didn’t?” You were hurting me, you cry out like a child as he scoffs at your weak attempt. Tugging you closer to him by your smooth legs, he droops them over his wide shoulders. Oh God. Turning his head to the side, he presses warm kisses. Your skin burns with every single one. “You know that’s not true.” Then, he’s hiking your tiny dress up.

Toto is hit with instant lust as he spots the wet patch of arousal. You whine, legs shutting around him. Do something—anything—but please, touch me. The corner of his lips lift up as he bites onto your red undergarment, pulling it down. Oh, you sigh at the intimate vision. Once you’re on full display, he groans. Your pussy glistens back at him, begging to be stretched out. “You’re…”

Humming, you place your soft palm against his cheek. “Toto…”

Like a starved man, he dives in, lips sucking on your clit as you fly forward, eyes screwed shut. He eats you out as if this was his true calling in life, the way he pinches your hips when you rock yourself against his face. He’s enjoying every second, every drop, as you find pleasure with the way his tongue swirls inside of you, finding new places you didn't know existed. The brunette nips quickly as you gasp, then he strikes his tongue. Warm sensation settles inside of your stomach. T-toto, holy fuck, oh my God. 

You can feel the way he grins against your pussy as he continues his handy work. Slurping your juices, his dark eyes find yours as you pant, light sweat fanning your face. His large hand presses your dress down, further adding to the friction as your tummy is pushed down as well. Wailing, you writher an embarrassing amount that would normally have you pouring out apologies if it weren’t for his strong gaze. 

“Taste so sweet,” he chants, kitten licks taking place. Your head rolls back against the couch, hand clutching onto his hair as he grunts. “Open your eyes for me, schatzi.” But you’re too busy trying to make this moment last, ignoring his command. Pressing his nose against your small hole, you squeal and look down. A coy expression takes over as he pulls away and rubs his fingers against your puffy clit. 

“You s-so fucking good at this,” you pant, chest rises up and down, horns sliding down a bit before he extends his long arm, pushing it back. Your chest tightens. “I know what you’re going to do…Go easy, please.”

Taunting circles edge you further as he bites the squishy part of his cheek. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to try and make your fingers fit.”

Your words come out menacing as you scrunch your eyebrows together, a worried look clear to the Austrian. Kissing the inside of your thigh, he nods. “You’re an extremely smart girl.” Another kiss. “I’ll go slow. You won’t even feel any discomfort, just pleasure.”

“Wait!”

Panic strikes his face as you disconnect his left hand from your breast. Bringing his hand up, you inspect the wedding band. Why are you still wearing this? He groans. “Publicity. No one knows yet. They won’t know for a while, so I can’t take it off until then.” You hum, then slide his ring finger into your mouth. You can taste yourself, long digits immediately hitting the back of your throat as you gag. “What are you—”

Then he feels it. Your soft tongue and the way it lubricated the steel before you gently bit down and started pulling his hand back. His cock grows more pained from how hard he’s become. With a pop you smile, eyes crinkling as you show off the metal. “Better.”

“You’re…” I know, you seductively whisper as you return his hand to where it laid. Is that not what you like about me? The man practically growls as he slams two thick fingers inside of you. Your body jolts as you cry out. So good, Toto. His cock twitches at you ragged praises. His fingers barely even fit inside your tiny hole, but it sure as hell reaches your g-spot. White splotches burn your eyes as you dig your nails onto the side of his thick neck. 

“Just like that. Oh, Toto.” He adds a third finger, and you hiss at the burning sensation. “That’s too much! Fuck.” He makes up for it, drawing figure 8’s between your velvety walls as you open up to him. Your legs start to slip down his shoulders as he spits. Keep them in place. You whimper, but obey, nonetheless.

The pad of his fingers continue assaulting your sweet spot, curling at a perfect angle. Your moans grow louder. Chocolate eyes flicker up to face your fucked up state. “Close?” You nod, vigorously. A warm strip teases your slippery lips. “Good. You’re doing so good, Peaches.”

Your hips buck suddenly as you suffocate him with your body, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Picking up on your candy nectar, he groans like a madman, greedy tongue swiping to lick every last drop. Shuddering at the feeling, you push his head away from in between your legs and grab him by the collar. For a second, he thinks you might kiss him, but when you don’t he realizes he’s disappointed. Instead, you plant a kiss on his cheek, hot breaths wrapping around his skin.

“Guess that makes us even, Mr. Wolff.”

-

“And then I rode a pony! I begged mama to let me get on a horse instead, but I just got a good scolding. But you would’ve let me, right papa?” Toto theatrically grins at Jack. 

“Don’t tell her, but yes. I would have let you because you're a big boy now, aren't you?” The four year old nods, blond hair covering his eyes as he brushes it away with powdered hands from his donut. I miss you. When are you coming back?

Pressure tugs at the Austrians chest as he sighs. Jack was too young—he wouldn’t understand that he and Susie would no longer be living together. It was a mutual decision to tell him when the time was right, but it still killed him to lie to his son. Especially when he beams back with bright eyes. Toto winces. “Soon.” A pin drops. “Have you eaten your vegetables for the day?” Jack sprints away.

A soft laugh is heard from the other side of the screen as Susie comes to view. “He has not, by the way. Hi, Toto.” The brunette waves. “Are you actually busy with work or are you trying to forget about all your fatherly duties?” 

“Is it that obvious?”

The blond chuckles. “Whatever it is, it’s great that you’ve taken time to yourself. Just don’t take too long.” Signing off, the fifty-two year old is left staring at his own reflection. 

“He’s cuter than the pictures.” Toto flinches with surprise. Standing in a summer dress, you lick your lollipop. “His voice is super squeaky; it’s adorable.”

“Do you need something?”

His question may seem rude, but it’s not meant to come off as so. His voice is filled with genuine concern as he furrows his brows. You shake your head. “I’m bored, that's all.”

The brunette scoffs. “And by all means, you came to bother me.” A giggle dances out of you as you brush your hair back. Your sweet scent reaches him, even though you stand far enough away to make a run for the hills. “But I do have time. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to talk to my mom.” Your words shock him but he listens attentively, watching you as you sit on top of the table, legs swinging with rigidness. “I want to try and fix things.” He frowns. But you’ve done nothing wrong. You shift in an uncomfortable manner. “Well…”

“What did you do?”

“Remember how I got a restraining order, but I’ve never stepped close to Rosie?” He nods. You nibble on your thumb. “I s-sort of lied.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve met her, kind of…” You pout, hazed expression carving out through your doll features. “But I can explain.”

He sighs. “Please do.”

Your cheeks flush. “A few weeks before I met you, Connor called me. And I picked up. He told me he was willing to let me meet my sister, but only if I let him borrow fifty grand. To be honest, I don’t care if I never get my money back— I just wanted to be able to recognize Rosie’s face. Of course I said yes.” The Austrian listens carefully, loopy eyes dedicated to you. “I bought her ballet shoes, the one’s I told you about.”

“She was perfect. She giggled like the most angelic thing and her eyes crinkled in a way that made me love her instantly. I asked why Connor needed the money and if they were in trouble, but he only ignored me. Then he tried to kiss me.”

“He what?”

A timid smile plays out. “It’s okay, he does that sometimes, but I’m always able to push him off because most of the time he’s drunk out of his mind. I don’t normally care, but he had Rosie… What if because of some stupid mistake he put her in danger? I gave Rosie her gift and paid an Uber to take them back home.”

“My mom found out about the meet-up and marched right to my work. Don’t ask me how she got in. She yelled at me with such anger that I almost wanted to cry. She said I wanted to steal both Rosie and Connor from her. I promised that wasn’t true, but she didn’t care. Then I got my restraining order.”

The brunette’s words get stuck as he gapes at you. Clearing his throat, he drums his fingers against the table. “You should have told me the truth,” he begins. Hurt slashes your face—you thought he would understand. He offers a friendly smile. “But still…you’ve done nothing wrong.” A beat. “I can help you. Well, my lawyers can.”

Tears form inside your jello eyes. “Are you serious?”

He nods. “Your sister can’t grow up in a household that doesn’t want her, but keeps her just to twist the knife. Connor will pay for what he’s done to you.” Leaping off the table, you cross your arms. No. You can’t bring that up. He sends a sharp glare. “What he did was wrong, can’t you see?” Your bottom lip wobbles. She’s going to hate me even more. Tenderly, he sighs as he strolls over, cupping your face. “She shouldn’t, but if she does, at least you’ll be free from him. Has he only tried to kiss you?”

Closing your eyes, you release a wet breath. “He’s touched me a couple of times.” The Austrains eyes darken. Pushing his hands down, you quickly take a step back. “But by then I was due to move out, so it doesn’t really matter!”

“It matters a little,” he growls. “None of this is normal.” You flinch at his strong tone. “Sweetheart, tell me one thing; what would you do if God forbid, he did the same thing to Rosie?” 

You gasp. “I would murder him.”

“So, you agree that we have to do something about this?” Hesitantly, you nod. “I’ll reach out to my attorney as soon as possible. I promise you that all of this will get taken care of.” Muscular arms drape over your shoulders as he hugs you. Bewildered, you blink as you stiffen. “You don’t hug much?”

“Nope.” 

He booms with laughter, chest vibrating as you smile at the feeling. Everything about this feels right, so then why does that scare you?

-

He vows to be back as soon as he’s done with the car reveal. I don’t care, you reply as you pop a mint into your mouth, getting ready for work. 

You’re going to miss me, watch.

And damn him, the fucker was right—you did. A part of you wishes he would rush past the doors, yapping about he thought you were dead and didn’t ask for permission to take the Benz. But he was across the world, smiling wide at media duties as you watched behind a tiny screen. It’s good that he’s taking time to see Jack, too.

“Why are you sighing so sad?” Roxy asks, fixing her combat boots. “Not getting any clients? Though I doubt it. They love you.”

You let out a forced laugh. “I’m not sad—tired.”

The red head furrows her brows suspiciously before hugging you. Your arms dangle lazily as you scrunch your nose. She giggles. “Does this have to do with Mr. Toto Wolff? He’s hot—crazy hot.” She untangles herself from you. “He must be the devil himself.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” she cheers happily. “But also, you’re totally in love.” Your stomach drops. No, I am not. Roxy rolls her eyes. “You’re a good liar, but you’re not that good. I’ve noticed the way you look at him. Like you want to eat him alive as you kiss him until your lips snap.”

You wince at the image. “You have a way with words…”

She beams, thin brows raising up. “I’ve also noticed that you haven’t gone into the private room since he walked in through those doors. So what, you’re just going to keep pretending?”

“You’re such a creep!” you squeal, delicate hand slapping her thigh. She squeals lightheartedly. You’re missing out on a shit ton of money. We’re talking dough. And yet you don't bat an eye because you don’t want anyone but him. Did I nail it?

You pinch your fingers together as you huff. “You’re crazy. Crazy. There is no way I could be in lo—” Hey! The ringing sound makes your blood run cold as you fear to turn around. Look at me. Foxy stares back at you with anxious eyes. Do you know her? Looking down onto your lap, you nod. “That’s my mother.”

“Oh shit.”

A dry hand yanks you by the arm as she spins you around. “I’m talking to you. Why won’t you look at me?” 

You flinch. “I’m working, you can’t be doing this—”

“I don’t give two shits if you’re working or not, if I say we need to talk, then we need to talk.” Ro shakes his head, distressed as he apologizes. I’m so sorry, Peaches. She said she was your mom and I…I didn't know what to do. You smile back softly. 

“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”

As soon as your mother enters the dark area, she whistles. “Fancy, but really? Bending over for any man willing to pay you a couple cents? That’s disgusting.”

Your cheeks burn up as you fight back tears. “What do you want? Is Rosie okay?” Panic rushes through your veins as you grab her by the shoulders, shaking her violently. She’s so thin, you think you might break her. “Is she okay, I said?”

“She’s fine,” she yawns. “So…this is what you’re up to? It always…catches me by surprise. Not really.”

“I had no choice,” you whisper meekly. “You gave me no choice.”

The older woman smirks. “Don’t you dare blame me. No one makes you do anything— this was your decision.” 

You let out a tired sigh. “Just tell me what you want…”

Her eye twitches, as if she remembers why she was so angry to begin with. “I got your complaint; you’re suing me for being a bad mother and Connor for…assaulting you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”

“I’m not lying—”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie?” you yell back, acid sliding down your cheeks. “I would never make up such a thing. He assaulted me countless times as you never did a single thing.”

“I never saw anything.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You walked in on it! You called me a slut! I was seventeen for fuck sakes. But no—you blamed me for sleeping with your husband instead.” You take a good look at her; dark undereyes, frail figure, needles imprints everywhere. “You can’t keep doing this. You need to think about Rosie—”

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie—I could not care any less about her! She just bugs with all her crying. It’s exhausting.”

“She’s just a baby.” Grabbing her hands, you soften your gaze. “If you don’t want her, fine, let me raise her…I swear I can do it.”

Your mother perks up. “You would do that?” Yes. Of course I would, you respond instantly. You’ll never hear about us ever again. Her thin hand cradles your cheek warmly, and for a moment, you let yourself lean against it. Then she pulls away and strikes you harshly, causing you to stumble back. “Why would I ever please you like that?”

Bring your hand up to your stinging flesh, you sob. “I-I…what?”

“Here’s what you’re going to do; you're going to drop the charges against me and Connor.”

“No.” 

She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”

Rising up with shaky legs, you keep a firm face even though it begs to howl in pain. “I said no. You’re not going to hand her over willingly, okay…Then I’m taking you to court.”

“Like hell you aren’t.” Tugging your arm, she presses her face insanely close to yours. You wince at the smell of intoxication; you can’t even tell what kind. “I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?”

You let out a wet laugh, ripping your arm away from her tight grip. “I don’t care. I don’t care anymore, but I am saving my sister from you two—no matter what.” Her nostrils flare as she heaves. You let out a sad whimper. “When did you become so inhuman? You used to be kind, beautiful, ha—”

“Heartbreak does that to a person,” she simply states before walking out, leaving you to yourself as you finally come crashing down.

-

He didn’t expect for there to be a racket, but the house felt awfully quiet. He knows you weren't at work—he had checked. He thought maybe you could have been out with friends, so he sighs before resting on the couch. He sits there for an hour or so before heading upstairs to take a shower. 

As soon as he enters the bedroom, he finds you covered with thick blankets as you cry. Alarmed, he rushed to your side of the bed. Oh my God, you shriek at the anonymous person before squirting. “When did you get here?”

“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”

You hope brushing your tears away would stop him from asking questions. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

A pinched up expression maps out. Your chin forms a peach seed as you let out a weak sob and stand on the bed, making you the same height as him, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s stunned, but snaps out of it as he hugs you back, calloused fingers playing with your soft hair. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom visited me at work. She said some nasty things, but that doesn’t matter to me, what does is that she won’t let me adopt Rosie,” you muffle against his neck, salty tears wetting his collared shirt. “She’d rather raise her out of spite. She’s not made for this, she's malicious.”

“What else did she say?”

You pause, sniffling before pulling back with a reindeer nose. “That’s it.”

The Austrian lowered his gaze with subtle threat. “No, tell me everything she told you.”

“I swear that’s all.”

His brown eyes scan your face, but you remain still, only shaky breaths being released. He clenches his jaw. “Where does she live?” Your face drops. Why do you want to know? “Where does she live?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Stop being so stubborn and let yourself be helped—”

“I don’t need your help anymore, Toto!” You purse your lips, trembling hands brushing your hair back. Anger rushes over him as he inspects the purple bruise.

“Who did this to you?”

Sitting back down on the bed, your nose twitches. “I’m moving out.”

“Who fucking did this to you?” His voice is lethal. Thank you for trying to fix things, but I’m sure I can do it myself from now on. “What you don’t seem to understand is that you don’t have to. It was your mother, correct?” Forlorn, you agree with your silence. “What have they done to you?” he whispers, pain lacing his raw voice.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” you whisper, salty tears sliding down. “I’m going to kill your image—they’re going to hate you because of me.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” the brunette ricochets back. “All I care about is that you’re okay. That you find the happiness you deserve to have.”

Grimacing, you sniffle, shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that doesn’t exist. Or at least I’m so unlucky that I won’t get a piece,” you joke. “The closest thing I’ve felt to that is when I met you.” His heart melts as he stares back, adoringly. “You’ve helped me in so many ways, Toto. Thank you for that.”

“But—”

“I know.” Rising up on the fluffy bed, you tower over him a bit, pressing kisses on his temples, cheeks, nose, neck. “You’re the only man who's ever made me feel something real. I can’t explain it, but I hope it makes sense.” 

He gulps. “It does. You want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve made me feel the exact same way from the moment you stepped into my life.” He closes the gap between you two as you stumble back against the mattress, but his large hands prevent you from getting away. “You’re not perfect—you’re flawed. You don’t have your life together—but you’re trying to. You’re not the tough girl you make yourself out to be—but that’s because you feel the need to build up walls to protect yourself from others.” Your stomach churns with every word he speaks. “And somehow…you have me wrapped around your finger.”

It happens so quickly, the way he presses his lips against yours. He can taste the saltiness but doesn’t dare to pull away. Like an animal, you move your mouth against his, whimpers flowing to his ears like symphonies. Toto knows why you never made the first move; you were scared to admit your feelings. But he was too.

Almost as if you read his mind, you run your fingers against his scalp as he breathes out, against your open mouth. “You won’t do the same, right Toto?” 

“What, sweetheart?”

Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”

“Unless you ask me to, then no.” He pecks your temple. “I can’t even imagine living without you anymore.”

That’s all it takes as you jump on him, silky legs wrapping around his torso like a piece of ribbon. He grunts loudly when you bite down on his bottom lip before letting go. “God, Toto, you’re—” As soon as he sucks on your throat, your sentence dies. Writhing against him, you try pushing him off as he chuckles, then he sets you down against the white sheets.

Immediately, you crawl back to the edge of the bed to where he still stands. Frisky hands tremble as you aim for his belt. Such a pretty girl, he thinks as you slip it off. You don’t have to do this. “I owe you, remember?” Then eager hands push his pants down, along with his boxers.

You knew he would be big, but that was an understatement. Toto was huge. Being 6’5 should have been a warning itself, but still. Drooling over his cock, you lick your lips, doe eyes fixating back to him. “I might not be able to take it all in my mouth,” you sheepishly state, red faced. The fifty-two year old has probably had a much better encounter; you were just making a fool out of yourself. Running his thumb against your cheekbone, the corners of his lips fly up. 

“I’ll walk you through it.”

Humming, you delicately wrap your hand around his length. Even just feeling it makes the heat in your belly grow. He clenches his jaw. Jerking him off, you wrap your lips around the pink tip. The Austrian releases a dirty groan, hips bucking as you smile around him. Pulling back, you stare up expecting the next step. Start off how you normally would. 

Pouty lips welcome him down your throat as you whine, the vibrations sending him into an orbit. When your palm slithers to what you can’t reach, he tsks. “You haven’t even tried.” Soft brows pinch together as if to say; Probably because I know I can’t either way. His nostrils flare. “Relax your jaw.”

Doing as you’re told, you gag as you squeeze your eyes shut and curl your toes. Your back arches, ass flying up as you struggle. A large hand reaches out to smack it. Yelping, you ease your mouth, thick member sliding down furthermore than you could have even imagined. There you go. 

Swallowing around him, you bob your head at a steady pace, reliving the steps, too scared to mess up. The Austrian throws his head back, sharp jaw in clear display as he pants. “Just like t-that, fuck. You’re doing so…shit.” While he’s enjoying himself, tears burst out as you clench your eyes, lashes becoming darker. The feeling is definitely getting him off, but he wanted to make things easier for you. 

Brushing your untamed hair back, he traces the bridge of your nose. Your orbs remain closed, and he finds himself missing them. “Breathe through your nose.” Ragged breaths fly out as your fingers dig against his thighs. He hisses. But gradually, it gets better. Glossy eyes stare up at him, lips stretch around his cock as you continue your filthy movements. 

As if to prove yourself to him, you deepthroat him even more as his head rolls back, floppy hair following along. Soft fingers brush against his legs as he shudders, face twisted with pleasure. Pulling away, you swirl your wet lips against his tip, feeding off of his precum before forcing yourself back down. 

Thick ropes of cum slide down your throat as you moan loudly. The brunette grunts, shaky breaths flying past his lips. With a teasing pop, you kneel up as you open wide. He moans at the sight of his release swimming inside your sinister mouth, then you swallow. Even though your throat is extremely sore, you still beam at him.

“Where have you been all my life?.” Climbing over you, he lays you flat, slipping your dress off. He’s stunned to find out you’re completely naked. Cherry red feathers on your cheeks. “Are you sure you didn’t know I was going to be back?”

Your lips curl. “No idea.”

He wraps his mouth against your bud as you whimper, hand massaging his head as he repeats his actions to the other. You could definitely fall asleep to this. When you open your eyes, you’re impressed to find out he’s completely stripped down, toned body exposed. The sight makes you grow excited, nervous.

“Are you on birth control?”

You curse softly. “I’m not. Crap.” Disappointed, you’re expecting him to climb off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he let out a raw chuckle. “I t-told you I don’t fuck men on the regular—”

“I don’t need the reminder,” he grunts. His brown eyes soften. “What’s your wish in life?”

Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”

“Cute.” Flustered, you focus on his contracting abs. Foaming at the mouth, you try to picture rubbing your core against them. “The other one,” he demands.

“Oh…” No. He can’t possibly mean… Your heart stops beating. “To be a mom.”

“There it is.” 

Briskly, he pushes into you as you wince in pain. I know, I know, he coos. But it’s better this way. It won’t feel so bad in a few minutes. Crying against his humid chest, your jaw hangs open. “It really hurts, Toto. Oh…it burns.” Hot tears reestablish themselves inside your orbs. “You’re too big.”

“Breath, sweetheart, breath.” His voice calms you down as your mewls lessen. “See?” You hum. “I’m going to move, alright?”

“O-okay,” you respond, dizzy. The feeling returns—less painful—but returns, nonetheless. Panic expands through your chest as you begin to think he might split you in half. His cock was just so thick and veiny. But it felt delicious between your velvety walls. “Fuck, baby,” you pant.

“I knew you could do it.” A warm peck lingers on your shoulder. “You feel so tight, schatz. So warm.” He sighs in relief as your tiny cunt compresses against his length, easing the pain from being as hard as a rock. Worse. Strong arms pick your legs up over his bare shoulders, making him travel deeper. 

“Toto, Toto, Toto—”

Eyes entertained against your slippery hole, he raises his brows. Yeah, baby? Getting a hold of his hand, you bring it over your stomach. His jaw clenches. “I can feel you.” Writhing in ecstasy, you toss your head to the side, small whines echoing between the vaporized walls. Pouding into you at a faster pace, he growls, bite marks being left behind on your legs. You hiss, clamping your eyes even harder, which makes you clench around his cock even more.

“Do that again,” he begs. “Do it—” You oblige, attention set on how he moans feverishly, hands adding pressure to your legs. For sure his imprints would be left behind. Taking advantage of the little power you have, you untangle yourself, greedily climbing onto his thick lap. 

“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.” 

He looked more than good—he looked eternal. The way his chest heaves, his soft pants, sweaty hair framing his handsome face, dark eyes praising you as if you were Athena herself. A confession finds into your brain as you halt. Beads of sweat cover his long nose as he appears concerned by the sudden break. Is everything okay? Rubbing your eyes as if you just had the worst nightmare, you blink hastily. 

Roxy couldn't have been right—she never was. Except, she is this time. It's as if a warm glow towers over him, your chest feels awfully vacant, but you’re not scared because you know your heart has found its home in the palm of his hand. You laugh in amusement as you touch his face all over. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “What’s so funny?”

“I love you, Toto Wolff.”

A lump forms inside his throat as he tilts his head. “You do?”

You shrug sheepishly. “I do.” Kissing his lips, you sigh with content. “I love you, I love you, I love you; I adore you.” He can hear the clock ticking as he stares back with his lips slightly parted. “You don’t have to feel the same, you dont have to say it back—I don’t care, but I can’t keep living a life of regret…”

“I love you, too.” Cartoon eyes blink back at him as he chuckles. “Do you believe me?”

“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”

Shifting on top of the Austrian, you make sure to slip him back inside as you moan in unison. Riding someone has never felt so addicting. Gasping at the raw feeling, you dig your nails onto his shoulders. When you look down at him, you are pleased to find him struggling to catch his breath. His fingers pinch your hips harshly as you bounce harder and faster, as if he would regret his words and leave you. “So big.” You drool, hair flourishing around you. “Stretching me out so good, Mr. Wolff.” He growls at you captivating words. “Making it so easy to ride you, huh? Cock brushing against the perfect sp—oh my God.”

Your face twists up with pleasure when the tip of his cock brushes against the mushy part that makes you almost black out. Movements slow down but it’s not long before he lifts you up and slamming you back down. “Toto!” you squeal, flimsy arms reaching out to balance yourself on his wide shoulders. Everytime he hauls you up and you look back at him, he represents like a giant. Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging wide open. “I-I’m close-e-e.”

“Me too,” he grunts. Like a devilicious man on a mission, he slaps your face carefully, forcing you to connect your glossy orbs with his loopy ones. “Gonna let me cum inside? Carry my baby, just like you’ve always wanted?”

“Yes,” you chant. “Yes—all of it—yes.” Cradling his cheek against your sweaty palm, you smile. “Cum inside of me, Wolff.”

With one final push, you both release loud moans, a strong wave of orgasms crashing violently against one another. Huffing, he makes a ponytail with your messy hair before letting go. “You think it worked?” You giggle.

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Leaning towards him, you kiss him gingerly. His mind grows blurry with how meaningful you make it seem. I’m yours—my heart is all yours—but please don’t break it, it seems to tell him as his enormous hands squish you closer to him, as if that were possible. 

“I know of a few ways we can make sure.”

-

Though you had mutually admitted your feelings to one another, there still didn’t appear to be a proper label to it all. Time was slipping, he would soon have no other choice but to leave and face all his responsibilities. 

But you can come back with me, he would desperately bring up as he fucked you against the wall. Tits would be bouncing at a hasty speed as you look back with your mouth in an O. I want you to. You won’t ever have to worry about anything, I promise. You can go back to Uni. You’ll get custody over Rosie, and Jack will be over the moon. We could have a family of our own, just you and I, Peaches. Huh? How does that sound, baby?

It sounded perfect; like a dream. You could taste it already. Early morning calls that you wouldn’t mind because he’d be laying down next to you. Quiet time as you jot down notes and he stresses over the next big decision for the team. And at the end, you would be glad you made the choice to choose him. Just like he chose you.

With shaky hands, you brush his messy hair back as he dotes on your bambi eyes. The way they glimmered extra bright that night; like starlight. The brunette’s face would soften up when you trace his nose, the curve of pink lips, his lines. Everything about him was breathtakingly dominant. 

You’d be a fool to deny. 

So, you accept. 

-

If Toto were to be told that he had died and ascended to heaven; he wouldn’t second guess the possibility. Because being with you felt exactly like that. Every passing second only adds to the amount of love he bottles up for you. It would overflow and he’d be okay; bring out the next. Oh, that one’s full, too? Okay, next. 

All of it made sense. You matched perfectly in sync with him like a cozy glove and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’d be whispers from others, but he doesn’t care. He’d deal with just about anything for you. 

“You’re leaving so soon.” A click. “Have you thought about quitting?”

He can see you grow as stiff as a tree. Your back faces him, but he can still spot your reflection. Of course you looked absolutely lovely, but there was something different about…God. He doesn’t even know what to call it. 

“I’m not quitting.”

The Austrians' lips form a thin line; shoes clicking against the floor even more. A boom of lighting fills the room as you flinch. He smiles slowly. “Right—not yet, at least. Not until you move to Monaco.”

More heavy silence. “Sure.”

Now he’s worried. Strolling closer to you, he brushes his warm hand against your shoulder, kissing your exposed skin. “What is it?”

His heart stops when he notices you blinking back tears; bloodshot eyes tracing his tall figure. His first assumption is the most obvious; your mother and Connor. They had probably done something, said something, and now they’ve got you—

“I’m taking the car. See you later.”

He blinks. The cold demeanor was something unusual on your behalf, but leaving without a goodbye kiss was alarming. Toto tries to suppress his feelings with a bottle of scotch, but nothing seems to work. He has to see you. 

Gathering his wallet and house keys, he strides out the door before he spots his laptop wide open. As soon as he returned, he would have to answer endless emails, but for now, that wasn’t his priority. Inching closer, he reaches down to slap it shut when his pulse runs cold.

We should think about Jack.

He’s too young to understand anything of what’s going on, Suse.

Let’s just try one last time. I swear I’ll change. 

I love you. 

He knew instantly; you had read the messages. He had sent them, there's no doubt, but that was so long ago. The date was right there; all before he met you. Before opening up to you. But he doubts you spared enough time to spot the tiny detail. You saw his texts and that’s all; the rest was blocked.

Toto’s palms get sweaty, ears burning red, and heart racing faster than a fucking F1 car. How must you feel? You had made him promise that he wouldn’t hurt you and now this? The confusion was completely explainable, but he had to get to you fast.

It’s as if he owns the place, marching fiercely past the open doors that swing once they spot the Austrian. NDA’s were rather foolish when it comes to him now because he just held that much power. That much respect. But he can’t think of why something feels off.  You were hurt, and he felt awful, but no…there’s something else. As if there were an actual wolf lurking deep in the woods; ready to pounce. The hair in the back of his neck stands up, goosebumps forming, and eyes flickering all over the rich club, hoping to find you.

“Hey,” he pants when he spots the familiar redhead. Foxy lives up to her name because her laser glare has him scared for his life. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance before strutting away, a row of men following. The Austrian pushes past them all, pleading just like any other, but for a completely different reason. “Have you seen, Peaches?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Where is she?”

“Around.” 

The dancer beams at the group of businessmen who relax against their seat, hunting down without shame. They wore wedding bands, but who cared, right? Toto’s large hand grasps her wrist, tugging her away as she gasps, causing a commotion. He doesn’t care, he just has to find you.

Brown eyes glimmer threateningly but also soft because they’re both aware he needs her, for she only knows where to find you. “Listen, I know she told you what happened, but it was all some misunderstanding! The messages..they were sent to my ex-wife a long time ago. Before any of this, I swear…you have to believe me.”

Foxy narrows her thin brows, digging a sharp nail against his toned chest. “No, you listen—Peaches is one of the sweetest girls I have ever met; she's my other half, so when you hurt her…” A beat. “That’s it. She doesn’t forgive.”

His shoulders drop like an avalanche. “B-but it was a...you don’t mean that.”

The redhead struts away, long legs prancing like a vixen. “Believe me; don’t believe me—I don’t care. Just leave her alone.”

But he can’t do that anymore, he's in too deep. No matter how many times Foxy cursed him to leave, he just wouldn't. He would explain. Even if it were that last thing he did. All's fair after that. 

“Mr. Wolff?” A red drink is extended out towards him kindly, to which he shakes his head with a forced smile. If you can even call it that. He’s sure he looks awful, dressed in all black, but it perfectly represented him for who he is and how he was feeling. It’s almost as if he were ready to show up to a funeral. 

As time ticks at a snail's pace, he grows more nauseous. There’d be a moment where you see him and he doesn’t know how you would react. Fuck—he doesn’t know how he would, either. To some it may be embarrassing to weep in front of a group of worldly men, but if you looked at him a certain way where he knew it was over? He’d be the first, and without hesitation or shame. 

He’s come to recognize your set as fast as a racing strategy. The stage would light up a soft yellow; swallow the room like the early sun. The piano keys would start off slow, taunting, and almost sinister—Yayo. And of course, you’d prance around like a broken angel, wings brushing your hair like his long fingers would.

But this is strange.

He’s too busy analyzing the colorful club when the lights burn black, only the glass box raining a bright red. He doesn’t even recognize it’s you. 

The intro isn’t the notorious piano lullabies, but rather scratchy violins. Million Dollar Man slithers across the crowded room like a venomous snake, waiting to strike anyone who doesn’t lay their attention on them. 

And this time, you’re no angel, you’re no devil. You’re both. It’s confusing and alarming, but also beautiful and breathtaking. While your dress is cotton white, your makeup is dark and tempting, lips dark red. Your knee socks are tied with a simple ribbon, making men drool like some type of fuckery. You look miserably broken. If anyone were to guess, then they’d say that you’re high off drugs, but that’s not the case. You're high off heartbreak. 

And the simple necklace you wear, with his marriage ring attached to it, is a pelluid indication. Even if it was new level petty.

Toto is in such a trance that he doesn’t even feel when a group of hands push him to sit down, eager to have a clear view of their own. They all secretly envy the Austrian when they notice that he had landed himself the best seat in the house without even trying. 

So, was it fate to be sitting here, in front of you? Was it fate to have met, then hurt you without the means? The music is almost terrifying, along with your black wings and white halo. All of this is utterly puzzling; was he supposed to be into this, or fear it? Was he supposed to feel his heartbeat in the pit of his stomach, drumming against his ribcage, or was he supposed to be at ease? But most important; would you spare him this time to apologize, or would you kick him out of your life? The last notion scared him the most as he sat like a tired soldier, brown eyes blinking to where you start to seductively twirl.

I don’t know how you convince them and get them. Shiny legs drag behind your delicate figure as your eyes roam the room, sighing with every lustful stare. This is purely pathetic, it didn’t make you feel the way you intended for it to do, but shit. All you wanted to do was flee the state and never look back. But there were too many things tying you back; Foxy, Ro, Rosie…A stinging sensation begins to form behind your orbs and you fiercely blink them away, refusing for the thought of Toto to be what brings you down. 

But in a moment like this, what were you supposed to think about? Toto was many things; devilishly, cunningly handsome, tempting, brilliant, intoxicating; but he was also a fucking no-good, professional heartbreaker, a screwed up man who roamed earth without a sense of direction, who truly never deserved to fall in love again, especially with someone was tainted and loyal as you—

But the eyes don't lie. He’s become known by you; someone in your favorite book whom you look for in every page, despite it all. His orbs remind you of your favorite kind of dark chocolate, swirly and dreamy; enough to make you swoon, but they’re filled with more than just that. They’re desperate, as if ready to run endless miles if that's what it took for you to speak to him. They’re loopy, blazing nervously when you spot him, brows knitted with concern.

And he deserves it…you think.

Still, that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning, causing you to panic at the thought of spilling your lunch in front of everyone eyeing the glass box you're hidden behind; it could only ever do so much. Everyone can see your usually tantalizing persona fly out the window, a frail—shattered—girl taking your place. 

He’s tricked you. He made you let your guard down, let him in, and then ramshackled you whole; and he hadn’t been nice about it either. How could you have ever thought he would choose you over someone who actually held his kid for nine months? You had seen the messages that sunny morning; birds chirped, flowers bloomed. He had been busy doing God knows what, and when his bright laptop dinged, you couldn’t help but peek. As you once told him; you loved gossip.

Jack is asking if you remember where he last left his stuffed bear? You know, the one with the white spots? 

Susie. You had heard a lot about her—you’ve read, a lot, too— she was someone to admire. Helped create a path of perseverance for young girls; it was astonishing. The thought of Jack made you smile, then the bear, then her. Which is why you aimlessly scrolled once, playfully, and then you came to a rude halt. 

If someone were to grovel that way for you, you would helplessly fall for it. Fuck, he pratically begged for a second chance. Heat weaved through your body, anger rising, and then falling cruelly with a sense of undeniable ache. You had cried; sobbed. Then you got ready for work.

When he had asked what was wrong, you wanted to stab him with the nearby knife, and the thought scared you half to death. You could tell he was deeply wounded by the cold shoulder, but why the fuck should you care? 

Here—in Machiavellian Nights—trapped behind a transparent case, with disgusting men eyefucking you, you realize; there’s no place to run. An attraction is what you are; tourists are what they all represent. Toto’s massive figure swallowed his seat whole, long legs spread open naturally. And you hate it how handsome he looks, dark clouds painting his usually happy eyes. His chest dances up and down, wrestling to catch a breath. The hollers make him flinch in the slightest, grimacing.

The Austrian is apologizing, cryptically. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry. His lips aren't moving, but you can hear his pleads as the music continues. 

C’mon! Dance, someone demands from afar, rough hand smacking the glass. Gasping, you purse your lips, continuing. Ignorance is horrible; especially coming from you. The idea of going on without you feel like a nightmare—torture. He tries standing up, and he doesn’t really know what his game plan is exactly in order to get to you, but heads turn and harsh arms force him back down. 

It isn’t that hard, boy. To like you, or love you. It was as if you got yanked back into what is truly your reality. You can’t have good things in life. Your father hadn’t died—he had abandoned you. Your mother did too. And Toto…

Toto Wolff was just the same.

You’re glad no one can hear you choking back on tears, you wouldn't dare to fall. But emotions were running high, your throat felt raw, your eyes stung, knees felt wobbly, and it was too much. But aside from your hurt, an eerie feeling hugged your chest, forcing your rib cage to poke you as a warning. You allow yourself to look back up, rapidly scanning the unlit room. Everything was blurry—which didn’t help—but what was it?

You’re no longer focused; your legs sway, your gartner slides down, your nose is starting to get runny, and it was all a mess. Connecting your gaze back to his, you narrow them down like deathly blades. This is all your fault, they scream at him, enraged. If you hadn’t walked into my life, then I wouldn’t be this way. 

You’re screwed up and brilliant. 

“You fucking ruined me!” Running towards the glass, you violently slap and punch, over and over until you no longer feel any pain. Red bruises form rather quickly and everyone begins to murmur.

Look like a million dollar man.

“I hate you, Toto Wolff!” Muffled whimpers flow like a waterfall as everyone turns to face the fifty-two year old who sits with a hurt expression. 

“I can explain,” he pleads, instantly rising up to his scary height and rushing over to where you’re caged. His large hand pathetically grasps it, fingerprints painting the shiny protection between you and him. “Sweetheart…”

So why is my heart broke?

“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”

Chaos ensues; the volcano erupts. It’s suffocating, the way everyone tramples over one another, scattering like lab rats. The yells of terror make his blood run ice cold, swiftly turning around to face the open room. Foxy lets out a scream filled with agony as she crawls over to the stage. Acid slides down her face, makeup running. The other dancers run to hide where the bartender stands with his mouth wide open, orbs flickering with urgency. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he has to get you out of here.

“Open it!” Foxy cries, hands hitting the clear box so forcefully that her nails begin to chip, light gore beginning to slide down. “Open the fucking stage right now!” She lets out a string of pleas, but no one is listening—they can’t even try to with all the loud noise. The alarms go off and that’s what snaps him out of his spot of confusion and what makes her cry and fall back against her arms.

The glass isn’t shattered like in the movies, all over the floor, no. There’s just a singular hole, scratches circling around it—and spikes of blood coloring the crystal clear mirror. 

Even with eyes closed, face sticky with tears, and blood spurting out of your mouth and chest, pooling around your angelic body, you were still beautiful. The ring lays flat atop your unbeating heart, shining one last time against the cherry lights. You were gone as soon as the bullet hit, but Toto was the last person you had seen. And you wish you had time to tell him you never meant any of it. You could never hate him; you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“I…no. No. No.” Fists punch urgently, cuts finding a place in his pale skin. “Open it!” More pounds. “Let her out! Why is no one letting her out?” Trepidation sleeks over him as he stops his actions, taking a second to look at you. Your dark wings had somehow turned darker, your white dress is now drowned in crimson red, your halo is no longer on your head, and your lively skin is now ghostly pale, almost gray. “Peaches…” His voice quivers so much, he almost doesn't realize it's coming from him. “Get up, sweetheart—come on, just stand.”

His chest tightens when you go unresponding. “T-think about Rosie! She loves you; she needs you. I need you,” he declares, voice cracking. “The text messages are a mishap! I only love you, Peaches, that’s all! I swear I do, I swear it’s you…”

He dreads to turn around and face what was now his life. The music cuts, but the frightful screams continue. Toto blinks back the stingy feeling as he flickers up to make eye contact with who’s responsible for ripping you away from him.

You share the same eyes, but hers are sullen now. Her hair looks as if it could have once been glossy, but is now as dry as the desert. Her lips are nastily chapped, but an uncanny curl slips through as she ticks anxiously when Ro and the rest of the guards hold her without an ounce of remorse, cuffing skinny, needled wrists.

Your mother looks down at the gun, at her daughter, then at Toto. An unhinged stare strikes her impentent face.

“I brought her into this world…I can also take her out.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[greetings-inferiors]

Yes, hi, what's happening to reddit? I usually check some fandom news there but everything is private/blocked now? I have an account and not even that allows me to enter?

Reddit is changing their policy so they every thousand api requests they charge money. This means that third party apps, moderation tools, and other various things just won’t work anymore, since these things rack up thousands of requests very quickly, they’d just be unsustainable to run.

This cost would be average out to a dollar per month per person using third party applications, like an alternative app, text to speech, moderation tools, etc. Reddit has millions and million of users, most of which would be affected.

For example, Apollo for Reddit, a popular third party alternative to the Reddit app (which I used myself, seriously the Reddit app is abysmal) would cost $20MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR TO RUN. Given the app is developed by one guy, that legitimately puts him out of business.

Moderation would get even worse than it already is, as moderation tools use the api to effectively moderate, but now it’s at a cost.

The reason why this change is happening, is because the API can be used to collect data for AI, and, to quote the CEO, “the Reddit corpus of data is really valuable” and he doesn't want to “need to give all of that value to some of the largest companies in the world for free.”

So, once again, AI and capitalism is ruining things for everyone else.

This is a change that is created solely to make money without thinking for a second about the millions of people it would effect. This lead to 7000 of the most popular subreddits blacking out for 48 hours in protest, and I’m pretty sure it crashed the whole site. The voice of the people has definitely been heard, now it’s just time to see if it’s done anything.

Edit: I got something wrong! Thanks to all who corrected me! No thanks to the anon who was an asshole about it lmao

It’s not that Reddit is charging that’s the problem, it’s that it’s charging way too much, is way too short of a deadline to change it, and spez is just an asshole lying about the Apollo dev. Still a shit situation! Just not exactly for the reasons I said. Look into the reblogs for people who know more!!

[champagnefountains]

Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!

Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)

Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad. Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship. Warning: None.

LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:

Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it. 

Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms. 

Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart. 

He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.

Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.

Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!

Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.

Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.

The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.

As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.

“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.

The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.

ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:

Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.

Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired. 

Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side. 

Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.

Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.

Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.

Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon. 

Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?” 

A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours. 

Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms. 

“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.

[casuallyanidiot]

can you please do a surgeon reader with pathetic rich yandere? please and thank you for making so many good fics!

Thanks for the support!

Ooooh a needy, clingy, Yandere patient.... I like your thinking anon.

Tw. For self harm mention

Yandere patient grew up as a rich, spoiled kid with plenty of daddy's money and not enough spine. He's never had someone care about him if it wasn't for his money, even his parents don't really seem to love him beyond the basic obligations of making sure he wasn't dead or feral. His friends are all assholes who are also rich, university students that only seem to like him when he's drinking past the point of passing out, or when he buys them fancy dinners and meals as gifts. He knows that they are just leeches, but he doesn't have anyone else.

Yandere patient who gets pressured into doing a stupid stunt. He was drunk at the time, so he doesn't really remember much about what exactly he did, but he knew what happened afterwards: Broken legs, a spinal injury, a shattered wrist, and 15 stitches on his cherub like face.

You're assigned to be his surgeon, as it turns out. You tell him that since his injuries are so severe, he'll need to have multiple surgeries and come in frequently to ensure he's healed.

He understands, though a bit weary and exhausted.

Through the period of time that's he's kept in the hospital, you notice how no one ever comes to visit him. Yandere patient becomes withdrawn and almost a bit despondent, and you knew you needed to do something. He wont recover if his mentality isn't there, after all.

You spend a lot of time comforting him, spending time with him later in the evenings before you go home, and you chat with him for brief periods of the day.

Yandere patient feels the most affection he's ever received while bedridden in your care. He knows that for once, it's not just about money. Yes, this is your job, but he knows for a fact that you pay more attention to him than you would some of your other charges.

Yandere patient decides to move himself into the hospital until he recovers. There's not real point in being locked away in his gloomy yet opulent room, tucked away in some countryside manor. No, he'd rather be here with you so that he may relish in your constant doting. You are a bit hesitant when he tells you the news with such a bright, beaming face. You don't want to hurt the poor man's feelings since he's been through so much already, but you'd rather prefer to see him getting out a bit more and trying his hand at socializing. Still, you don't press him too much on the issue.

Yandere patient who realizes that whenever he makes a bit too much progress, you distance yourself ever so slightly. It gives him pause, and it makes his heart race in a not good way. He can't have you leaving him. Not when he's already begun to rely on you so much.

Yandere patient who messes up his stitches constantly. He looks up at you with big, watery eyes when you find him covered in his own blood. He feigns his clumsiness, but he can't help the pleasurable shudder that runs up his damaged spine whenever you fret over him.

Yandere patient who starts to try to make you move into one of the many family manors he resides in. He'll pay you an extraordinary amount if you'll let him be your only patient. Plus, it's in the countryside! Fresh air, beautiful gardens, privacy: What more could you want?!

He tries so hard to sell you on it, but you don't budge. He pouts like a child for a while afterwards, though soon he's back to his usually smiling self.

He's figured it out. He doesn't have to ask you! A simple multi million dollar bribe to the hospital here, a scheme to blacklist you there, and soon you'll be happy to only have eyes for him!

Yandere Patient is practically beaming when you show up to his estate, bags in hand. The money, the pain, the isolation... all of it was just a small price to pay for you to never leave his side again.

[kisses4kaia]

god college!luke makes my emotions go haywire 😡😩 i’d honestly start dating someone else to spite him

you know what anon. ima need you to claim an emoji bc ur thoughts are TOO GOOD (also thank u sm for 1.5k💋)

so we’ve discussed previously that luke castellan does not get jealous easily.

however.

he never thought you would go this far. sure, you had danced on other guys at parties to get a rise out of him, maybe flirted here and there in front of him, but never this.

getting into a relationship—a serious relationship—with his frat brother? that was a new low. so what if he’d purposefully lead other girls into gross bathrooms at bar outings so you would see? this was uncalled for. how dare you?

so naturally, at your new boyfriend’s birthday party, when you’re sitting on his lap, helping him unwrap your present of a jean-paul gaultier cologne he’d wanted, luke—in classic luke fashion—thought this would be his chance. your sorority sister, drunk off of her wits—bless her heart—came up to you and whispered some slurred imperative about how you needed to get to ‘the square’.

your eyebrows furrowed at her as her eyebrows raised, questioning the significance of ‘the square’ and why the man who prompted her to ask chose there. you said no words, excusing yourself after finding her a water and alka seltzer.

“you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?” are the first words you say to luke, button up shirt open and lying on his back on the false grass. “me? you’re one to talk, sweetheart,” you rolled your eyes at his use of the nickname, crossing your arms as you stand over him.

beneath the twilight, your exposed shoulder skin glistened like the moon, just a sliver of it visible in the northern night sky. luke had obviously had something to drink or smoke, or both, because he slurred his words as he patted the turf next to him. “sit down. c’mon, like the good ol’ days,”

‘the square’ was a small patch of land in the middle area between his frat’s and your sorority’s backyards. it was insignificant to most everybody else, but you and luke had claimed it as yours on drizzly nights like these, when the owl called and adolescence snored. it didn’t even hold sexual reminiscences, for each night you spent on the square was spent just talking. he would gloat about some things he did over the summer, interrogate you on your sex life, laugh at your offense and crack bad jokes. he was the worst person to spend valuable time with, but you returned every night, nonetheless.

“i’m surprised, castellan. been here a full sixty seconds and you haven’t tried to fuck me,” you remained standing over his lax body, crossing your arms over your chest. “do you want me to try to fuck you? because i’m down,” he looks up at you with that smile of his. that toothy, million dollar, smile that reassures whomever it is on the receiving end that everything is okay and there’s not a thing to worry about.

you snort, giving in and sitting down. luke pulls you into his lap before your butt can even hit the cool grass, eliciting a yelp from you. his lips press against your shoulder, strong, warm arms wrap around your waist and you can’t help but melt into the body beneath you. “luke,” your voice is meant to be a warning, supposed to remind him and yourself that you belong to another and this was not right, but he did nothing except for hold you tighter and smile against your skin.

“he doesn’t make you feel like i do.” he spoke the words out of your mind, the voice of truth you swallowed down with a knowing conscience that it would rise to the surface eventually. this wasn’t what you wanted. your single goal wasn’t to make luke jealous, it wasn’t even to show him what he was missing. you just wanted it to be different. you wanted somebody to take you seriously enough to call you theirs.

but anybody who did wasn’t him.

“luke,” this time, you weren’t trying to ward off anything. this time, you were welcoming him and all his invasive, rude, luke-like, traits and the pain you knew would come with letting him in once more. “i know, baby, i know.” he said no further words before flipping the pair of you over and letting your back onto the ground. you focused on none else other than the feeling of his lips finally landing on yours, the trace of his fingers across your denim skirt’s hem. “can i?” luke’s fingers dipped past the fabric, drawing swirls on your skin. “mhm, yeah,” your smile is audible and spreads to luke’s lips.

if there was one thing luke always did, it was worship you. this time was no different. his lips were everywhere, and when they weren’t pecking kisses all over you, he was breathing praises like you were a mortal saint against your skin. and when he entered you, he fucked you like he couldn’t believe he got the chance to feel you again. but he knew what the outcome of this would be; of course he did.

you didn’t know him as a particularly selfish lover, but the way he chased his high, rutting his hips against yours to the point of overwhelmed stuttering suggested that to be true.

and when it was all said and done and the past hung in the air like a wonder of the world, luke stood and looked down at you like you previously did him.

“break up with him.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

there was no denying that, so you did none else than nod.

“yeah. i do.”

[sincerestlove]

Stress Relief

thank you for the request, Anon! soft Regina supremacy lives here.

Request: Can I request Regina x reader where Regina had a super stressful day and she needs something to take her stress out on? It can be fluff or smut ur choice <3

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: None - just lots of kissing, Regina being a big sweet soft baby, needing comfort from Reader.

~

The sun was setting slowly along the horizon when the bedroom door finally swung open, slamming shut a moment later. You'd been waiting all afternoon for Regina to come home, as it was your long-standing "study/date night". Most of the time, it ended being more date than study. The blonde hair of your girlfriend came into view first, a loud, exasperated sigh falling from her pretty, pink lips. She was visibly exhausted, shoulders tensed and bunched up around her ears. Her usual smoothed out hair was a bit frizzed and tied up in a loose bun, strands falling in front of her eyes. You swore you could spot a slight darkening underneath them, too.

She still looked absolutely beautiful, though. Nothing could ever change that simple fact.

You decided to approach her slowly, given that her eyes were literally closed as she stood in the middle of the room, unmoving, backpack slipping from her hand and landing with a dull thud on the floor.

"Gina?"

You'd be lying if you said you weren't worried about her. She had mentioned having four exams in the same day, but you didn't realize the toll it would take on her.

She didn't respond as you moved closer, resting your hands onto her cold cheeks. She shivered slightly, involuntarily leaning into your touch. The comforting scent of Regina's sweet perfume filled your senses, taking your arms and wrapping her in a gentle hug.

"I'm tired. I'm stressed. I hate school."

You couldn't help but crack a smile at her childish tone, feeling her arms drape over your shoulders. The weight of her body felt nice as she leaned more into you.

"I know. What do you need, honey?"

She hummed tiredly. "Don't know. Food. Shower. A million dollars. You."

You sputtered out a laugh, pinching her in the side teasingly. She recoiled at the touch, deft fingers coming up to tickle at your hips. "Okay, well, I can give you 3 out of the 4. I'd win the lottery if I could for you, but, alas. I've wasted a fortune on scratch-offs by now, probably."

A smile graced her face, eyes finally opening to meet your own. They looked more gray today, with little sprinkles of blue and green dancing in her irises. You watched as her pupils grew larger at the sight of you, gaze dragging along your entire face. The way she looked at you always made your heart flutter.

"Kiss me." You blurted, feeling embarrassed at the sudden outburst. You didn't mean to say it, but obviously, knew your girlfriend would oblige. She always did, when you asked.

"Come here, then." Regina held her hands out for you, tugging you back flush against her. She leaned down then, painfully slow, taking your lips in a soft kiss. A warmth blossomed in your chest, burrowing its way up your neck, out to your fingertips and down to your toes.

Regina took hold of your hips, guiding the pair of you backwards, until her knees hit her massive bed. She sat down, pulling you down with her, onto her lap.

The soft mattress sank slightly, supporting the pair of you with ease. She had to do a slow crawl backwards to lean against the headboard, finally able to settle comfortably. Having you in her lap always made her feel better.

The blonde took your lips again, sighing softly into your mouth. Her warm breath fanned along your cheeks, your hands coming up to rest above her heart.

You exchanged kisses for god knows how long, too wrapped up in each other to care about the time ticking by. Soft kisses were accompanied by soft touches, fingertips dancing underneath clothing, skin warming and flushing with the attention.

"Do you feel better?" You murmured against her lips eventually, hands coming to play in the thickness of her hair, releasing it from the bun. It had nearly fallen out on its own, anyway. You tucked some of it behind her ears, dragging your nails gently along her scalp.

Regina smiled, looking so soft and pretty, having melted like putty in your hands.

"Duh. I still want my food and shower, though."

~

short little one :)

i hope you enjoyed!

as always, please leave requests if you have any!

[earthtooz]

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself. 

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one. 

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity. 

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop. 

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?” 

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his. 

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face. 

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.  

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude. 

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired. 

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands. 

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support. 

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you. 

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult. 

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.” 

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands. 

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness. 

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you. 

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.” 

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.” 

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you. 

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating. 

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him. 

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself. 

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him. 

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night. 

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks. 

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.” 

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement. 

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.” 

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together. 

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness. 

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own. 

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only. 

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way. 

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll. 

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.” 

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs. 

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake. 

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face. 

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances. 

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?” 

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

¿ En serio alguien pensaba que al finalizar el rodaje esto iba a ser pasto del aburrimiento ?

La promoción de NY no necesita más conversación, la interacción entre Sam y Cait habla por si sola por mucho que Mordor se empeñe en echar balones fuera pero llega el ultimo día de rodaje y firman que aquí acaba todo, cada uno por su lado, después de todo su relación solo se basa en el trabajo pero ¡¡¡¡¡ SORPRESA !!!!! Sam tiene un acto marcado con la etiqueta de negocio y su compañera de trabajo, después de un día de muchas emociones que pide calma y relax, aparece en el. Vamos a pensar que como ella también está en el negocio del alcohol va para tomar nota pero ¿ donde esta su "socio" en el ? La aparición de Cait en la fiesta del primer aniversario de Thegardensheddrinksco acompañada de su "socio" caballero con claros signos de pasar mucho frío a pesar de los looks más veraniegos del resto de asistentes, levantó una buena polvadera por qué era normal que asistieran juntos, entonces ¿ Porque el no asiste a este si todo está relacionado con el negocio del alcohol ?

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Gracias por los excelentes comentarios que haces aquí. Siempre es Navidad cuando envías algo, así que me apresuro a traducirlo:

'Did anyone really think that the end of filming was going to be boring?

The NY promotion doesn't need any more discussions, the interaction between Sam and Cait speaks for itself no matter how much Mordor insists with the blaming game, but the last day of filming arrives and they are adamant that this is where it all ends, each one on their own, after all their relationship is only based on work. But SURPRISE!!!!! Sam has a business event and his coworker shows up there, after a day of many emotions that requires calm and relaxation. Therefore, we could think that since she's also in the alcohol business she showed up to make some contacts, but where's her "partner"? Cait's appearance at The Garden Shed Drinks Co's first anniversary party, accompanied by her gentleman "partner" with clear signs of being very cold, despite the more summery looks of the rest of the attendees, raised quite a stir because it was normal for them to attend together. So why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

And just like this, boom! A lightbulb moment, here.

This. This is the million-dollar question: 'why didn't he attend this one if everything is related to alcohol business?'

Exactly. Where is the Director/Secretary/Director of several British and Irish companies, either in-common or separately owned, dealing with alcohol or pubs (LOOOOL)?

The answer is in those damn papers, of course. But there are none so blind than those who wouldn't see.

So, let me sum up the reasoning panic attack across the street:

Stage 1: filming just ended. She will go back to the Glasgow Taj Mahal with no double glazed windows and that's it. He will endlessly get drunk in some random sleazy bar with or without that incompetent saleswoman. They hate each other. So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. And oh - he is, of course, gay.

Stage 2: ugh, another booze related event in Glasgow, featuring S and his permanent shilling, I am not giving this the light of day. Perhaps nobody will notice?

Stage 3: Queen C would never attend that sordid event, especially when the Peasant is shilling his booze. Nope. Over her dead body.

Stage 4: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨. I repeat: 🚨🚨🚨there was a woman in that car 🚨🚨🚨. We know who she is [insert random name here], oh my (pearls sway), he has no shame!!!

Stage 5: there was no woman in that car.

Stage 6: there was a woman in that car, but I am going to fix myself some hot cocoa and fuck you all. In my world, the Eiffel Tower can be a Twinkie. Or the other way round.

Stage 7: confirmation that C attended the event. I have been called out for hiding things. I am, therefore, a victim. I am starting the drama, full cycle. Divert, divert, divert attention. Engage!

Stage 8: this was an OL-related event. The second wrap-up party. No, this was a common friend's birthday. No, this was... ok, this was an after work thing. Nooooo....

Stage 9: there has been an, as yet unexplained, shortage of babysitters in Glasgow on Friday October 25th, 2024. Fathers babysit. That is modern enough and hopefully that avoids more inconvenient questions. Right?

Stage 10: let's quickly post something about irrelevant social media statistics. No, nope, no, I am not unsettled by anything. Nope.

Stage 11: nobody brought his/her better half. Fact.

Stage 12: they are co-workers.

Stage 13: everything happened because of the Shippers.

[hyerinrose]

Yandere! CEO (+Assistant Reader)

A/N : Yan Ceo's name was taken from 🎧anon's suggestion of names! Reblogs and notes are appreciated <3

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, implied murder, etc

Event Masterlist 🎉

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

💌Yandere! CEO who owns a multi million dollar company. He was a successful business man in his field. His life was a dream to many other, he was good looking, intelligent, charismatic, surrounded by men and women and are practically drowning in his wealth.

🎀Yandere! CEO who's life were bleak and filled with nothingness, everyday seems to drag on and on. He had since lost the spark he once had when he first started his company.

💌Yandere! CEO who met you, a new intern at his company. He wasn't interested in you at first until he heard you spoke with your higher ups. You were intelligent, every words you utter stunned him even more. You've caught his attention and it's your worst mistake.

🎀Yandere! CEO who uses his power and connections to dig into your personal information from your likes and dislikes to your home address, wanting to learn more about you. He can't seems to get you out of his head!

💌Yandere! CEO who approaches you one day with an offer to become his assistant, the spot being empty after he had disposes of his previous one. With you being his assistant, he can now observe you even closer and also to prevent your coworkers from interacting with you.

"Keep your eyes on me, Assistant (Last Name)"

🎀Yandere! CEO who was content with admiring you from afar while also eliminating potential rivals that could stand in his way of pursuing you. However as he was being swarmed with mountains of projects and paperworks, you slipped from his grasp and into the hands of someone else's.

💌Yandere! CEO who gives into his desire of locking you up in his expensive penthouse where you have no way of escaping. Not with the tight security he has and the red rope tied around your ankles to his bed. No, he won't let you escape him again.

Yan ceo lowkey inspired by Jumin from mysme

Drabble under the cut!

"Good morning, my love. I hope my men didn't knock you out too hard yesterday" Kenzo walked into the bedroom with a smile on his face.

You struggled in your bonds as you looked at him fearfully. Your former boss was now standing at the edge of the king sized bed you were tied to.

"W-what's the meaning behind this, s-sir?"

The only thing you remembered from last night was you working overtime and as you were preparing to leave the building, you were dragged into a black van and were sedated.

"Isn't it obvious? You're here because I love you, (Name). I've always have for a long time"

Kenzo placed a gloved hand on your cheek, tilting your head to face him. Loving black irises clashes with your fearful (E/C) ones.

"L-love? This isn't love! Let me go this instant, sir!"

His hold on your face tighten as he placed a finger on your lips, shutting you up.

"No can do. I've learnt my lesson with letting you out of my sight. From now, I'm the only one who you can see, the only one who you can talk to and the only one who you can love"

[greynatomy]

bigger than the whole sky

alessia russo x reader

based on this request.

been writing this for a while. my longest fic yet. i cried so much writing it.

thank you anon for the request, one of my favorites.

i also just reached 1k followers! thank you all for following and reading everything i’ve put out. i started writing for female celebrities then got into woso. i never knew people would read what i would put out, but i was wrong. i appreciate every single one of you who like, reblog, follow, or just read.

again, thank you! enjoy this angst!

———

In her twenty-four years on this earth, Alessia Russo can count every single event, party, or celebration she’s been to. Whether that be a birthday party, after party, or a simple get together. But the event she’s at right now is not something she ever saw herself attending for a very long time.

———

Walking to the field in her first day of practice at UNC. She didn’t know anyone and was a little shy, but you were the first person to introduce yourself to her. 

During both of your time at UNC, you were inseparable. No one would see one of you without the other, so it was not shock at all when you got together a year after meeting.

~~~

“Hey! Alessia!” You get her attention, catching up to her.

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me tonight? Only if you’re up for it and aren’t busy.”

Alessia’s smile could not get any bigger.

“I would love to.” She kisses your cheek, walking away. “Text me the details.”

You stand frozen in your spot. You hand coming up to your face, fingers brushing where her lips touched.

A few hours later, you were standing outside of Alessia’s front door, flowers in hand. You go to raise your hand to knock, but it opens before you have a chance to.

“Woah.” You we’re speechless. Alessia was wearing a black dress, with a slit at the right leg and red bottom heels. You were in a simple black dress pants, white dress shirt with a couple buttons undone and dress shoes. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” She gives you her million dollar smile. “And you look very attractive.”

“Ready to go?”

“Yup. Let me just lock up.”

Opening the passenger door for her, she gets in, giving you a kiss on the cheek before you close it. You run to the driver side and get in. You put the car in drive and go on your way to your destination.

Alessia notices your fingers fiddling with the gear shift so she becomes very bold and grabs your hand to intertwine them, settling them in her lap.

The date went along perfectly. You talked about anything and everything, catching up on things that happened recently. Driving back home in a comfortable silence, smiles on both your faces.

You walk her to her front door, saying how you had a great time hoping to go on a second date and more after that, her agreeing. After a couple seconds of silence, you feel very confident and place your hands gently on her cheeks.

“May I?” You ask.

Alessia just nods, bringing her face closer to yours and closes the gap, lips molding together in a quick but passionate kiss. Pulling away she bites her bottom lip.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kisses your cheek, hurrying into her door.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” In a trance, you slowly walk back to your car with the biggest smile on your face, doing a happy dance not aware that Alessia was watching you through the window, laughing.

———

Walking around the living room, she can’t help but tear up. All the memories you made coming back to her. All that you accomplished together. She was glad to be able to play with you and start on your professional football careers together on the same team for Manchester United.

~~~

“I thought lesbians were supposed to be good at building and stuff.”

You and Alessia are in the process of moving into your new apartment in Manchester after being signed by United together.

“That’s very stereotypical of you Less.”

“I’m just saying.” She shrugs, biting back a smile.

“Would you like to help me then?”

“Nah. I think you’ve got it all figured out.”

~~~

“You’ll do great.”

“Same with you.”

~~~

“Making their debut today, Y/N Y/LN and Alessia Russo, an unstoppable duo from the University of North Carolina, subs into the game.”

~~~

“Another goal for Alessia Russo from the assist from Y/N Y/LN. The duo showing us exactly what they’re made of!”

~~~

Years later, you’ve both just signed a deal with Arsenal. The club not wanting to separate the dynamic duo the two of you became known for.

———

She makes it up to your shared bedroom, not having been since that day, opting to sleep in the guest room. Taking a deep breath, she twists the door knob, opening the door.

Everything was how it was left two weeks ago. Nothing being changed. Eyes scan the room, landing on your bedside table. A picture sat on top, one of Alessia’s favorites. Hands trembling, she delicately picks it up, thumb running over your face.

———

Walking along the water, footprints remain behind them on the sand. Hands intertwined, occasionally swinging between the two.

“You ready for tomorrow?” You ask softly, not wanting to disrupt the calm atmosphere.

“Nervous, but it’s the world cup final.”

“That’s to be expected then.”

“Come here. I wanna take a picture.”

Holding her arm out, phone in hand, you place your head next to hers into frame. She turns her head, placing a kiss on your cheek.

Later that night, she goes through the photos as you slept. Seeing as they were live photos, she watches them. She didn’t notice at the time, but after kissing your cheek, you look at her with the look all her friends told her about.

Like she hung all the stars in the sky.

———

Alessia felt numb. All of the emotions she could feel are bottled up inside her. She thought of the last moment she spent with you, still not able to wrap her head around it all.

———

You and Alessia make you way to the garage. You open the driver side door for her, letting her get in. You close the door, she rolls the window down. You lean down, resting your arms on the door, head sticking in the car.

“Now, you be careful getting to training. It’s our first one with the team.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you soon.”

She leans up giving you a kiss. When she pulls away, you hold the back of her head to pull her back in, kissing her a bit longer.

“Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you more. See you in a bit.”

She watched you put your helmet on, swinging a leg over your motorcycle, driving off, giving her a little wave.

Alessia arrives to training first, waiting for you at the car park. When you didn’t arrive in a couple minutes, she went ahead inside.

“Hey! Where’s your missus?”

———

The door opening snaps Alessia out of her trance. Looking up, she sees her parents and your mom. She wipes her tears hastily, sniffling a bit.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Mum.”

The three parents look at each other, not knowing how to start. Alessia’s dad eventually sit next to her daughter on the bed.

“We need to tell you something.”

———

You knock on the front door, it quickly opening to reveal Alessia’s mom, Carol.

“Y/N! What a lovely surprise!”

“Hi, Carol.” You greet, returning her embrace. “Is Mario home? I need to talk to the both of you.”

She leads you through the house to where her husband was sitting on the couch.

“Hey, kid.”

“Sup, pops.”

“Y/N said she needs to talk to us.”

“Oh? What about?”

Taking a seat in between the married couple, you reach into your pants pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. You hear a gasp that came from Carol.

“Oh, honey.”

“I-I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready, been ready, to take the next step into my relationship with your daughter. Alessia is… she’s the love of my life and I hope you’d give me your blessing to do so.”

A strong hand finds itself on your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Kid. You’ve had our blessing since the day we met you.”

“There’s no one better for our Alessia than you.”

———

Your mom holds out her hand, a small velvet box sitting in it.

“She told me to hold onto it.”

Alessia let out a quiet sob, sliding off the bed, kneeling over onto the floor. Her mom follows, wrapping her arms around her daughter.

“She loved you so much.”

———

“Is this Alessia Russo?”

Alessia got a call minutes after walking into the locker room. An unknown number.

“This is she.”

“You are the emergency contact for Y/N Y/LN. How fast can you get to London Medical?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Alessia’s heart is racing, the unknowing of why she would be called as your emergency contact. She packs her things as quickly as possible, hands shaking.

“Woah. Where are you going? You just got here.” Katie questioned, seeing her stuffing her training bag.

“Uh, Y-Y/LN hos-hospital.” She stutters.

Katie realized how serious the situation is, grabbing her things for her.

“C’mon. I’ll drive. Which hospital?”

“Lon-London Med-Medical.”

“Okay. Get in the car.”

The two run towards Alessia’s car, giving her keys to Katie. After a twenty minute drive, they get to the hospital. Running to the emergency room, she goes straight to the nurse’s area.

“Y/N Y/LN. My-my girlfriend. I got a call.”

“Alessia Russo?” She nods. “I’m Kerry. I called you. If you can sit in the waiting room, I’ll have a doctor come out and talk to you.”

Not even a minute later, a man dressed in scrubs walk up to the two footballers.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Hill. This is Officer Randall. You’re here for Y/N YLN?”

“Yeah. What happened.”

“We got a call for a crash. Witnesses say it was head on. Driver was drunk and is in our custody.” The officer answers.

“What about my girlfriend? What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s in surgery right now, we’re trying to repair her broken leg, ribs, arm, but what we’re most worried about is her head. She was wearing a helmet, which is good, but with how the driver hit her, we’re unsure how she’d heal. We’ll let you know more when we’re done. Now if you’d excuse me.”  With that, the doctor heads back through the double doors.

———

“Earlier this month, Arsenal signed women football’s dynamic duo, Alessia Russo and Y/N Y/LN. We’ve seen what they’ve done at the University of North Carolina, Manchester United and we’ve been excited to see what they could bring here at Emirates Stadium.

Two weeks ago, Y/LN was struck by a drunk driver and unfortunately passed away. Let’s all take a moment of silence.”

Alessia is trying hard not to break down in front of everyone. She’s done that plenty enough.

“To the families of Y/N, we are with you. Alessia Russo, we stand by you. Y/N Y/LN. You are loved. You are missed. Rest easy.”

———

It’s been four days since the accident. There’s been no change in your overall health and brain activity. Doctors have told Alessia that there’s a low chance of you ever waking up.

“Ms. Russo.” Doctor Hill knocks on the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ve gone through her file and you make all of Y/N’s medical decisions now. When we need to do something, you’re the one to make the decision.”

“What about her mom? I thought that only if you’re married, you’re the next in line or something?”

“She listed you as her power of attorney. She trusts that you make the choice for her. Ones that she can’t.”

“What do I do now? Is there still a chance for her?”

The look on the doctor’s face says otherwise.

~~~

After talking to your mom, her parents, she’s now back in your hospital room. She never thought she’d see you like this, lifeless on a bed, wrapped in bandages, wires poking and prodding all over.

“Hey, baby.” She sniffles. “Um. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here. Uh, it’s really all up to you now.” She grabs your hand, mindful of the wires and needles. “If-uh-if you feel like you can’t go on, I pro-I promise you that I’ll be fine. I can look after your mum.”

Alessia gets up from her seat, walking to the corner, bottom lip trembling, holding in a cry. Holding herself together, she goes back to where you lay.

“I don’t want you to fight for me anymore, to-to suffer and longer. If…if you need to let go, you can. Just know that I love you. As much as I want you to wake up, and see what we could’ve been, what should’ve been, I-I let you go.”

She watches your chest rise up and down, the movement slowing down. The beeping from the monitor slows, ending in a long beep. Flatline.

You were gone.

Nurses rush into the room to try and revive you, but Alessia waves them off, not wanting you to go through anymore difficulty. She let you pass peacefully.

———

“A hat trick for Alessia Russo on her Arsenal debut! What a player!”

Alessia couldn’t hold it in anymore. She collapses onto the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her teammates surround her, Lotte gets to her first, embracing her in a tight hug. Lotte had become your best friend at UNC, so it was difficult for her too.

With Arsenal winning the game, Lotte and Alessia were asked to do a postgame interview.

“We’re now here with Alessia Russo and Lotte Wubben-Moy. What an amazing performance from the both of you. Alessia a hat trick and Lotte who assisted them all. What was going through your head?”

“Uh, well, it’s the first game of the season and there was supposed to be one more here from the UNC squad, but unfortunately she isn’t. I played for her. Y/N is-was my best friend.”

“Alessia?”

“Uh, yeah. We all started our football journey together back at UNC and supposed to be back together again, the three of us, so I just played for her. She always believed in me and was by my side, following to all the way to Manchester and now to London. So I-uh-the whole team really just played for Y/N.”

———

Walking down the path, flowers in hand, Alessia stops in front of headstone. She takes the old flowers out of the built in pot and replaces them with the new. 

She takes a blanket out of her bag and lays it out in front, sitting on it. She reads the stone, for what felt like a hundred times.

Y/N Y/LN

Daughter • Footballer • Wife

you are bigger than the whole sky

Even though the two of you never got married, your mom and Alessia decided to call you a ‘wife’. It just wasn’t official on paper, but it would’ve happened anyway. She now wears the ring you never got to give her on a chain hung around her neck, to keep you close to her heart.

“Hey, baby. Uh, played my first game as a Gunner. Scored a hat trick just for you. Pretty sure you were watching down on me, helping me get those goals in.” She wipes a fallen tear. “Wished you would’ve been down at the pitch with me, but, uh, yeah. I don't know what else to say. You’re usually saying something back. I’ll see you again soon.” She kisses her fingers and placing them overtop of your name. “Ti amo amore mio.”

At twenty-four, she didn’t think she’d have to say goodbye, but here she was, walking out of the cemetery, leaving you behind.

[charmedreincarnation]

Ya bitch got into the void state

Champagne anon here and your mf girlll got in the mf void state and manifested her dream life. This happened a week ago, and I’ve been chilling but I do wanna share my story to help others. Gotta give Thanks to Maya, and so many other bloggers and even anon. Y’all hoes will forever be in my heart, and I’m forever grateful 🥹 also Maya girl you told me when I succeed to get into detail and I got nothing to do for the next two hours so imaaa just share it all here in detail.

I also wanna especially thank all the black creators on tumblr!! I didn’t know there were so many of us using the law. It always seems the world is so against us, and there’s nothing we can do abt it but nahhhh!! we can all live our best melanated lives regardless. Periodt, as we should it’s about goddamned time after everything we’ve been though 😂

Anyways!!!! after reading this: https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717864613626134528/im-your-bubble-anon-but-i-made-this-burner-to success story yesterday I got hella motivated. I read that shit and I thought I posted it on accident because it was everything I had been through, and had been thinking anyways. That anon ate your tumblr habits btw. If y’all haven’t seen my good sis’s sucess post go check that shut out rn, On god it will help.

At the end that anon (my mf dawg 🙏) included that they manifested for everyone. Now ion know if that shit actually work tbh. I’ve seen people say you can and can’t, but tbh the vibes were too high for me to doubt. I was like ight, okay fuck it, ima leave my dream life. Whether it me, that anon, or the devil himself ion give a fuck.

So that’s whatssss a bitch did!!! I just affirmed all day it was very fulfilling. People who hate on affirming are mad corny. I can’t lie that shit works hella fast even if you don’t believe it. Idk if that anon’s void manifesting helped or what but I didn’t do much and after 3 months of trying I entered the damn void state. I’m mad I thought I had to be on some ghandi shit to do this (no hate to him hes da man) but you rlly don’t y’all. BUT LEMME TALK MY SHIT ALL YOU NEED IS AFFIRMING AND PERSISTENCE.

Anyways I went go bed excited asl!! I wrote my script that was like 10 pages long I can’t lie I did the most… but it’s whateva. I woke up in the void state after waking up at 4 am or sum, and i was like oh shityyyt lemme manifest rq and skrttt out this hoe. So that’s what a mf did 😂😂

Anyways the part y’all’s is waiting for. This is what ya girl manifested

Desired face and body. I was in shock how all the details came to life. Y’all im a solid 100/10 it’s giving natural bbl and Aliyah. I swear to gahhh everywhere I go people be trying to peep. I’m not used to being treated like a fucking celeb everywhere I go, whole time it’s just my fat gyattttt

Being the hottest 16 yr old IT GIRL at my school, and having lucky girl syndrome. People call me a mini jayda wayda, but tbh I’m better than her now. No hoe is ever gonna cheat on meee like they did her…bye. She’s still gorgeous as fuck tho

Perfect school life. Your girl is set to be the Valedictorian when I graduate (my school has 4!) I’m also sophomore year President, captain of the basketball team, apart of some volunteer programs through my school, and so much more. My resume and college application is abt to be so fuckin fire in 2 years. As I should Columbia is a competitive ass school 😤😤 that aside everyone always tryna link, I got 3 guys fighting over me (whole damn love square), so many people tryna be my friends, teachers love me, and I excel in everything I do.

My Family being rich assss fuck. My dad got a Wikipedia now and his net worth is 22 million dollars. He owns a hedge fund company now, we love a man in finance 😍😍 AS HE FUCKING SHOULD. He got a material gurlll daughter. Two in fact now.

Fire ass crib. Bro it’s a 9 million dollar penthouse, perfect for ragers. I woke up here and my room is decorated to my personality, pintrest clothes all in my closet, I got an exotic pitbull and frenchie, and the house is just mad clean and fire, I’m obsessed with it. Rarely ever wanna leave now.

My mom not being strict. That bald headed ass hoe use to be mad annoying. Y’all know how Haitians are. Mad annoying as fuck and strict for no reason. Now I go out everyday and come home at midnight and no one gives a fuck. Everyone minds their own business as they should.

Having an older brother and younger sister. I was an only child, because I was a miracle baby bc my mom was infertile. Now she got 3 of us, so she can stop being only in my buisness. I’m just playin I love my mom regardless she’s just hella clingy. Anyways my brother is mad protective but also be wrestling mad aggressive for no damn reason. He gave me a bruise but it’s whateva Ima get my lick back. I also always wanted to be an older sister, bc I’d love to be a role model! My sister is 10 and adores me soo much it’s so adorable 🥹 lmfaooo, she’s mad spoiled by me and my mom but it is what it is.

Successful lip gloss business and being a successful drop shipper. Now you didn’t think a sista wasn’t gonna give herself a career just because I’m young right 🤨🤨 we’ll ya wrong. Ya girl is making 200k-400k a year. I barely even use my money cause I got an allowance from my parents… but still, financial literacy and wealth is so important to me especially as a black woman.

A pookie bae. Y’all know I wasn’t gonna deal with finding a loyal cute and funny guy in nyc. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Anyways I got me a fine ass boo. I just wrote down all the features I wanted in him like for exampleS finically secure so he can spoil me, handsome as fuck, tall, funny asl, kind, little clingy, deep raspy voice, nice hand, good hygiene and style,yanno yanooo !!! Plus some other shit and whewww the void did me so good. Nowww my boo bear is a lil cracker and I’ve never dated a white boy befuh but my am I surprised. I wake up everyday with some long ass appreciation texts and plans already made ! Y’all know I love me a dominant man who knows what he wants. He’s got some nice ass clothes, nice car and crib, made me a passenger princess and spoils me way too much. He doesn’t complain abt my mood swings and simps in the best way possible. Not to mention he’s fine afkkk he’s giving vinnie hacker. He’s also 6’1 and I’m 5’1 so that height difference is soooo hot I can’t lie I feel so so safe with him 🫣 I could go on all day but in short he’s more than perfect

+ so much more but this is what shocked me the most. Anyways I’ve been living like this for the past week and it just feel so natural. I keep forgetting I got into the void but whateva I’m the only who knows anyways. Anyways live yo best life and neva give upppp. I gotta go but I’ll probably eventually make a blog. My names angela so look out for it. I’m just mad lazy soo idk tho !!!

Angela out 🫡✌️

Girl this was so fun to read, I’m just as excited for you lmfao. I love seeing black women win, and thank you for sharing your methods! Enjoy your best life and come back if it resonates with your life bae !!!