#maybe my sense of humor is broken | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-leclerc · 7 months ago

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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.”

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

stuff we did — geto suguru.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?” Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.” You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.” You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/ Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Suguru, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Comfort, Falling In Love, Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Domesticity, Miscarriage, Infertility, Character Death, Depiction of Infertility, Depiction of Hospital Visit, Depiction of Illness, Depiction of Old Age, Mention of Miscarriage, Mention of Infertility, Mention of Character Death, This Is One Of My Favorites In A Long Whille, My Writing Vault Is Just Angst;

WORDS: 8.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written a while while back and i just finished proof reading it to suit what i wanted to see. this was inspired by both queen of tears and the film up, which was just the most beautiful movie ive seen over and over. i hope you enjoy this a lot and that you'll be just as moved as me. i promise i'll be back with fluff soon enough!!! i genuinely cried at the end. anyway, i hope you love it. i love you guys!!! thank you for reading <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

A WHOLE LIFETIME WAS WAITING FOR HIM. At ten years old, Suguru Geto was a dreamer with a spark in his eyes that hinted at a life full of exploration and wonder.

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It was an ordinary afternoon, the sun casting long shadows as you wandered through the neighborhood, when you stumbled upon the abandoned house. Its once-grand façade was now a patchwork of peeling paint and overgrown vines, and the wooden fence sagged in places, as if it were barely holding on to its secrets.

You had been intrigued by the house for weeks, often imagining what mysteries lay behind its dust-covered windows. That day, you decided to finally investigate, only to find someone already there. Suguru was crouched by the front gate, peering through the rusty bars with a look of intense concentration.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?”

Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.”

You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.”

You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

Suguru’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Let’s make it our clubhouse. We can turn it into our secret base where we plan all our adventures.”

The two of you both pushed open the creaky gate and made your way up the overgrown path to the front door. Inside, dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows. The air was musty, but the promise of discovery filled you with a sense of excitement.

“This place is amazing!” Suguru exclaimed, running his hand along an old wooden beam. “Imagine all the things we could do here, don’t you think? We could have treasure hunts, build secret compartments, and even create maps of our adventures!”

You smiled, already swept up in the excitement. “And we could scrapbook all of our adventures. I’ve got a ton of stickers and colored pens at home. We could make it like a journal of our explorations!”

Suguru’s eyes lit up with delight. “That sounds perfect. We’ll make this place the coolest clubhouse ever!”

With the possibilities swirling in both your minds, you turned to Suguru, realizing you hadn't properly introduced yourselves yet. “Oh, by the way, I’m…….”

Suguru grinned, his enthusiasm still bubbling over. “Suguru Geto. Looks like we’re gonna be partners in adventure!”

The two of you spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of the house. Suguru’s enthusiasm was contagious, pulling you deeper into the magic of the place. Every corner held a new discovery, a forgotten relic of time that sparked your imaginations. You both laughed as you uncovered old, dusty furniture, imagining all the stories it could tell.

Suguru, always the dreamer, crouched by an ancient-looking wardrobe and peered inside. “What if this belonged to a pirate?” he mused, brushing away cobwebs. “Maybe they stashed their maps and treasures in here before sailing off for another adventure.”

You chuckled, running your fingers over the faded carvings on a wooden chair. “Or maybe it was a writer, sitting here every night by candlelight, crafting tales of far-off lands.”

Suguru stood up, eyes gleaming. “We could be the next storytellers! We can make up stories about this place—maybe even start our own treasure hunt for future explorers.”

“I love that idea!” you grinned, already envisioning the elaborate maps and clues you could create together. “This whole house could be our playground.”

As you explored further, you found hidden doorways and forgotten passageways, each discovery filling you both with a sense of wonder. There was an old attic with creaky floorboards that groaned under your weight, and a cellar that held shelves of ancient, dusty jars—relics of a time long past. Suguru’s energy never faltered, and neither did yours. It was as if the house had become an extension of your shared imagination, every forgotten room a new world to explore.

At one point, Suguru turned to you, breathless from excitement. “Can you believe how much potential this place has? We could make it anything we want! A fortress, a secret hideout, a museum for all the stuff we find!”

You nodded eagerly, already planning how you’d decorate each room with artifacts from your adventures. “We’ll turn it into our own world.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We’ve gotta make sure no one else finds it, though. This is our secret spot.”

“Deal!” you said, sealing the pact with a grin.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the house, Suguru turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, one day we’re going to see the whole world. Just like those great explorers. This clubhouse will be our starting point.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of deep connection with Suguru. “I’d like that. I think we’ll have the best adventures together.”

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YOU THINK THAT ADVENTURE WAS THE WAY TO GETO SUGURU’S HEART. When you started to get to know him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Suguru’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement whenever the topic of exploration came up.

It was as though each conversation opened a window into his boundless curiosity, and you found yourself drawn to the light in his gaze, the way it brightened with every new idea or story he shared.

Geto Suguru’s fascination with the world wasn’t just a passing interest—it was a deep passion, woven into the very fabric of who he was. He could turn even the smallest details into an adventure, transforming mundane objects or places into portals to other worlds. You can tell that he was a born story–teller. Born to know the wonders of the wider world.

Whenever he spoke of famous explorers, his voice would rise with enthusiasm, as if their courage and daring lived within him. Marco Polo’s travels along the Silk Road, Amelia Earhart’s fearless flight into the unknown—Suguru recounted their tales with such vivid detail, it felt as though you were right there alongside them, venturing into uncharted lands.

“He didn’t just travel, you know what I mean?” Suguru once said of Marco Polo, eyes alight with admiration. “That guy managed to help open some doors to a whole new world. Can you imagine that? Being the first to set foot somewhere no one even knew existed?”

You nodded, already swept up in the vision he painted as you kicked your feet. “It’s like the whole world was waiting to be found.”

Suguru smiled, and there was a quiet thrill in his voice. “Exactly! That’s the magic of it—everything’s an adventure if you look at it the right way.”

It didn’t take long before his excitement became infectious. These days, you just feel like that when you are around Suguru. Just as quickly, you could only find yourself equally captivated by the idea of exploring far-off places and uncovering their mysteries. Geto Suguru had a way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary.

He would point out things that others might pass by without a second glance—a strange rock, an oddly shaped tree, or even the patterns in the clouds—and turn them into puzzles waiting to be solved. His mind was always buzzing with “what-ifs” and “maybes” sparking conversations that seemed to stretch on for hours as you both imagined worlds within worlds, hidden just beneath the surface of reality.

“I wonder what it would be like to be Amelia Earhart too!” he mused once, as you both sat on a hill, gazing at the horizon. “To fly into the unknown, chasing the horizon, not knowing what’s on the other side but going anyway.”

“Scary, but exciting, don’t you think?” you replied, feeling a twinge of that same wanderlust Suguru seemed to carry with him at all times. “It’s like you’re both lost and free at the same time.”

Suguru nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. The unknown is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so… beautiful. There’s always something more to discover. And I…I just can’t wait to find out all of it!”

It was moments like these that deepened your bond. His wonderment was contagious, and soon you began to see the world through his eyes, where even the smallest things held the promise of adventure. Whether it was the forgotten corners of an old house or the distant lands of long-gone explorers, with Suguru, everything became part of an ongoing quest.

You realized that it wasn’t just about the places you would explore, but the way he looked at the world—with a wide-eyed excitement that made you feel like every day held a new mystery, waiting to be uncovered. And you wanted to be there with him. Just beside him. Because to be with him, you like to think that you would find nothing but a wonder if you were there.

He had a knack for finding the magic in the mundane, and it opened your own bright eyes to the wonders around you. What once seemed ordinary now felt like it held endless possibilities, all thanks to Suguru’s infectious spirit.

He showed you that adventure wasn’t just something that happened in faraway places—it could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected moments. You didn’t have to cross oceans to find excitement; sometimes, it was right in front of you, if only you knew where to look. And with Suguru, you were learning how to see it.

This weekend afternoon, as you and Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor of your clubhouse, surrounded by colorful supplies and old maps, Suguru began sharing his latest dream with you. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting a warm, golden light on the room.

“You know…..” Suguru said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I read about this amazing place called the Himalayas. It’s full of towering mountains, and some of them are so high that they touch the sky. Can you imagine climbing one of those?”

You looked up from your sketchbook, eyes wide with wonder. “That sounds incredible! What would it be like to stand on top of one of those mountains?”

Suguru’s face broke into a smile as he imagined the scene. You like to think that he had the most beautiful smile in the world. “It would be breathtaking. You’d feel like you’re on top of the world. And there’s this special mountain called Everest—people say it’s like touching the edge of the heavens!”

With a gleeful chuckle, Suguru grabbed a pencil and began sketching a mountain range in your scrapbook. “We should definitely put this in our adventure book. We’ll draw mountains and imagine ourselves climbing them.”

You nodded eagerly, already picturing the pages of your scrapbook filled with sketches and notes. “Absolutely. And we can write about all the things we’d see and do. Maybe we’ll even draw ourselves in climbing gear, standing triumphantly at the summit!”

As the weeks went by, the scrapbook became a canvas for your shared dreams. Each page was a tribute to the places Suguru talked about with such passion. There were intricate drawings of ocean vistas, with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling cityscapes with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.

Geto Suguru’s descriptions were so vivid that you could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of these distant lands. He just knew how to give you the wide world to you in the vibrant brighteness no one could.

As you worked on the scrapbook together, Suguru’s excitement reached a new peak. “I’ve been reading about this incredible city called Istanbul. It’s where East meets West, and there are markets full of colorful spices and beautiful mosaics everywhere. I think it would be amazing to see it in person.”

You looked at the sketch Suguru had just added, depicting a bustling market scene with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “It looks so lively and full of culture. I’d love to experience it with you. Maybe we could even learn a few phrases in Turkish before we go.”

Suguru nodded, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! And we can try all the different foods and maybe even buy some souvenirs to bring back to our clubhouse.”

As the scrapbook filled up, it became a treasure trove of aspirations and memories. The house, once an abandoned relic, was now a haven for your dreams, where the world beyond your doorstep felt just a little bit smaller and a whole lot more reachable.

As you look at him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your scrapbook would be an adventure as long as you had him.

IT WAS EASY TO SEE THAT YOU LIKED HIM. As the years passed, as you both grew older—the bond between you and Suguru deepened in ways that neither of you had anticipated. Nothing has changed and yet it has.

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You couldn’t even understand how you could describe it. What had begun as a playful friendship, sparked by shared adventures and dreams, evolved into a profound connection that anchored both of your lives moving forward.

The seasons changed, and so did the nature of your relationship. As the crisp air of autumn gave way to the first frost of winter, something subtle yet profound shifted between you two.

Your weekends, once filled with the solitary pursuit of sketching mountains far off in the distance or wistfully dreaming of cities you had yet to explore, began to take on a new rhythm. These quiet moments of creativity were now shared, woven into times of meaningful conversations that deepened your connection.

The clubhouse, once a refuge for your art and ideas, had evolved alongside you both. It was no longer just a place to retreat but had grown into a cozy home filled with warmth and a sense of belonging. The walls, once bare and practical, were now alive with a collage of your memories—scrapbook pages pinned up like trophies of the adventures you’d had together.

Here, in the dim light of your clubhouse-turned-home, time seemed to slow. Conversations stretched long into the evening, filled with laughter, confessions, and sometimes a comfortable silence that spoke more than words ever could.

You realized that it wasn't just about the places you wanted to visit or the mountains you hoped to climb. It was about these moments—right here, right now—that had been shaping the most important journey of all: the one you were taking together.

You and Suguru sat on the porch of your clubhouse. The place had become a sanctuary for the two of you, and tonight, it felt even more so. Wrapped in thick, warm blankets, you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft gold, pink, and lavender. The fading light bathed the world in a warm, almost magical glow, a contrast to the growing chill in the air.

But something else lingered in the quiet of that evening—an unspoken tension. Suguru, always steady and thoughtful, had been unusually silent. You could sense that something weighed heavily on his mind. His usual animated presence, the one that balanced your own, seemed subdued.

He stared out at the trees, their leaves a patchwork of fiery reds and oranges, but his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. The contemplative look on his face was deeper than the usual moments of introspection he had.

You knew him well enough to understand that silence was part of who he was—he often found comfort in it—but this was different. This wasn’t just quiet; it was an absence of something.

The air, cool against your skin, seemed to press in, amplifying the stillness between you. It felt as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said. You didn’t push him; you knew better than that.

With Suguru, patience was key. He always opened up in his own time, and when he did, it was always worth the wait. You could tell he was wrestling with something important—something that couldn’t be rushed.

You glanced over at him, his face softened by the golden light of the setting sun. His expression was unreadable, yet you could sense the conflict beneath the surface.

It was as though the quiet had become a shield for him, a way to protect himself from whatever thoughts he was trying to sort out. You wondered if he even knew how to begin talking about it, or if he was still trying to make sense of it for himself.

The porch creaked as you shifted slightly in your seat, the only sound breaking the stillness. The leaves continued to fall, gently drifting to the ground, but the world around you felt frozen in that moment, waiting for Suguru to speak. Whatever was on his mind, you knew it was important, and you were ready to listen when he was ready to share.

You glanced at him, sensing that something was on his mind. “Hey, Suguru.” you said gently, “is everything okay? You seem a bit… distant.”

Suguru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began slowly, “about us, and about everything we’ve shared.”

You felt a flutter of nerves in your chest but kept your voice steady. “What about us?”

Suguru took a deep breath, his fingers intertwined with yours. “You know how we’ve always dreamed about exploring the world together? Well, lately, I’ve been thinking that the greatest adventure of all is the one we’re already on. The one where we’re building a life together.”

You looked at him, your heart racing as you realized what he was about to say. Suguru’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he continued, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’ve been my partner in every adventure, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The world seemed to pause as you processed his words. Your feelings for Suguru had grown from admiration and friendship into a deep, abiding love. You had felt it for some time but hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this moment.

“I love you too, Suguru.” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, and the person I want to share my life with.”

Suguru’s bright purple eyes sparkled with happiness, and he reached out to hold you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you felt a profound sense of belonging. From that evening onward, your relationship transformed.

You both began to plan not just for the next adventure but for a future together. You talked about dreams of traveling the world, but also about building a home, starting a family, and creating a life rich with shared experiences.

The future you envisioned was no longer just about distant places or grand plans; it was about the everyday moments and the life you would build side by side. You found joy in the small things—quiet dinners, laughter over shared memories, and the simple pleasure of being together. And for each of those moments, you would both be together. For every last one.

And from that moment, everything felt like a flash, a blur of time passing with both rapidity and grace. Years slipped through your fingers like sand, but each one seemed to deepen the bond you and Suguru shared.

You both arrived at the house, this time not as wide-eyed dreamers, but as people ready to take action. You were equipped with the resources, knowledge, and expertise that had been hard-earned over the years. What once seemed impossible now felt within reach.

The house had transformed, much like the relationship you shared. The wild, overgrown vines that had once snaked across its facade had been cut away, revealing the clean lines of the structure underneath.

The sagging fence, which had leaned precariously for years, had been replaced by a sturdy, welcoming one. Even the gate—the one that had creaked and stuck when you were kids—now swung open smoothly, inviting you in with a sense of ease and possibility.

Standing there together, gazing at the house, the nostalgia hit you both in waves. You could still remember the first time you stumbled upon it, back when the future felt like a distant, far-off dream. But now, it wasn’t distant anymore. It was here, within your grasp.

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with anticipation and a shared understanding. You both knew this wasn’t just about restoring an old house. It was about building something together—something that was uniquely yours.

This house, with all its history and imperfections, was about to become the home you had always envisioned. It wasn’t just a physical space. It was a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you had grown into, and everything you had yet to become.

As you exchanged a glance with Suguru, you didn’t need words to know what he was thinking. The years had brought change, but they had also brought clarity. Together, you had always been building something—first with your dreams, then with your actions. And now, you were ready to take that final step, to make this place your home.

“Look at it, baby!” Suguru exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the house. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement and pride you hadn't seen in a while. “It’s incredible to see how far we’ve come. I remember the first time we explored this place, imagining what it could become.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in the sight before you. “It’s amazing. It feels like we’re finally turning our dreams into reality.”

The house had been a vision for so long—an idea you had held onto through thick and thin. Now, as you stood in front of the freshly painted exterior, with the sun glinting off the windows and the scent of fresh grass in the air, it was hard to believe that this place had once been nothing more than an abandoned shell. But it was no longer just an idea or a distant goal. It was real, solid, and yours.

Suguru picked up a paint roller, dipped it into the bucket of soft, pastel blue paint you had both agreed on, and turned toward the wall with a grin. “This is the fun part, don’t you think?” he said, rolling a stripe of color onto the previously bare wood. “It’s like coloring outside the lines, but now we get to make the lines too.”

You laughed and grabbed your own roller, eager to join in. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mister. This is a team effort.”

Soon, the two of you were painting side by side, your laughter filling the crisp air as you carefully applied the vibrant colors to your home. The soft hum of birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of leaves set the perfect backdrop for your playful banter. Every brushstroke felt like a step closer to bringing your shared vision to life.

At one point, Suguru turned toward you, his roller dripping with paint, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You know what’s missing here?” he asked, his voice playful.

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious. “What?”

“An artist's touch!” Before you could react, Suguru flicked his roller in your direction, sending a spray of pastel blue paint across your shirt.

Your eyes widened in mock horror as you looked down at the splatters of paint now decorating your clothes. “Suguru!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-gasping. “You’re in so much trouble!”

Without hesitation, you dipped your roller into the paint and aimed it squarely at him, sending a cascade of blue across his chest. Suguru's bright purple eyes went wide in surprise, then he broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, stepping toward you with his paintbrush raised like a sword. What started as an innocent painting session quickly turned into a playful paint war, the walls momentarily forgotten as you splattered each other with streaks of pastel blue.

You squealed as he rushed off with a dash and followed you. His laughter was just as much the best part of the progress you think. It was like the music that was missing in your life. And it never stopped that afternoon and you were content.

The soft spring breeze carried your laughter, and for a few moments, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Suguru, in the moment, covered in paint and joy.

At some point, you collapsed onto the grass together, breathless from laughter and covered in splashes of color. The house loomed behind you, its newly painted walls gleaming in the sunlight, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru looked at you, his face smeared with paint, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of blue from your cheek, his touch tender. “Look at us, baby.” he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and affection. “We’re a mess, but this—everything we’ve built together—it’s beautiful.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Yeah babe.” you agreed, your heart full. “It really is.”

Just like that, this once old abandoned soul was starting to come back to life before your eyes. It reminded you of all those dreams you had shared with Suguru for so many years. And in that moment, as you sat in the grass with your husband—covered in paint, laughter, and love—you realized that this, right here, was the real dream coming true.

That cool summer night as you both sat together on the porch of your newly renovated home, watching the sunset paint the sky with shades of pink and orange, Suguru turned to you with a contented smile. You had never seen him this happy in your entire lives together. And it suited him. More than you think he’d understand.

“I never imagined this day would come, but here we are. Our adventures didn’t just remain on paper anymore, baby. They became a reality now.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s incredible. We’ve seen so much of the world, and now we have this beautiful home that’s a reflection of our journey.”

With your home now complete, you and Suguru embarked on a new chapter of your life.

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LIFE EVEN IN ITS MOST MUNDANE WAS EVERYTHING. As the years went by, your and Suguru’s paths continued to align in the most fulfilling ways. Suguru, inspired by his love for learning and his experiences, decided to become a teacher, just like you.

Both of you found immense satisfaction in shaping young minds and sharing your passion for knowledge. Your combined efforts in education became a cornerstone of your lives, and it was a field where your love for exploration and discovery seamlessly translated into inspiring others.

Your old friends, who had once joined you in those early childhood adventures, also found their way into the field of education. Together, you formed a tight-knit community of educators, all driven by a shared passion for helping students explore their potential. The clubhouse, once the backdrop for your childhood dreams, had become a symbol of your commitment to fostering curiosity and creativity in the next generation.

Even your nights you spent in your home were often filled with lively discussions about teaching methods, innovative ideas for the classroom, and the exciting possibilities of new educational tools.

Your love of exploration, once confined to distant lands, now found a new outlet in the classroom. You and Suguru worked together on projects that encouraged students to think critically and explore the world around them, just as you had done as children.

Suguru, with a nostalgic smile, traced his fingers over a particularly cherished page. “Remember this, baby?” he said, pointing to a sketch of the Himalayas. “We were so excited about climbing those mountains. And now, look at us—living our dreams and sharing them with others.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I do remember. And I’m so grateful for everything we’ve experienced together. This scrapbook is a reminder of how far we’ve come and all the dreams we’ve made real.”

As you both looked through the pages, you realized that the scrapbook was more than just a record of your adventures—it was a reflection of your journey as a couple. It symbolized not only the places you had been and the things you had done but also the love and partnership that had grown alongside them. Everything was perfect. Nothing could be better.

Your careers were flourishing, and life with Geto Suguru was a tapestry of shared happiness. The bond between you had only deepened over time, each day bringing a new layer of intimacy and understanding.

It was as though your relationship had found a perfect equilibrium, a serene joy that seemed like it could stretch on indefinitely. Your home was filled with the warmth of laughter, the comfort of companionship, and the contentment of having achieved many of your dreams. But still, you felt like something was missing. And your husband knew it too.

Suguru, with his usual thoughtful demeanor, was the first to broach the topic. “You know, baby….” he began, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. “We've built something incredible together. Our careers, our lovely home… Everything feels right. But have you ever thought about what might come next?”

You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” you asked, sensing that there was something more beneath his words.

Suguru hesitated for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Well, we’ve talked about our future in many ways, but lately, I’ve been thinking about children. About…..about what it might be like to have a family of our own.”

Your husband’s tender words hung in the air, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The idea had surfaced in fleeting thoughts and half-formed conversations, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more tangible.

You considered his words carefully. The thought of children had always been a distant possibility, a dream tucked away among other aspirations. But now, in the warmth of the evening and the comfort of your home, it feels different. It was no longer just an abstract idea; it was something you were both ready to explore.

“I’ve thought about it too, babe.” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “It’s strange how this feeling crept up on us. I suppose we always knew that our life together would be about more than just us, that there would be something else to share our love and our world with.”

Suguru reached out and took your hand, his touch reassuring and full of promise. “I think it could be a beautiful next step for us, you know? I know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges, but I can’t help but feel that it’s the right time.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. “I agree. It feels like we’re ready to open up to this new chapter. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you.”

And that settled your desires to begin unfolding. You both wanted it — to have a family together, to raise a child that would be a reflection of your love. The excitement was palpable, filling the days with a hopeful kind of anticipation. You tried, again and again, but it wasn’t long before the first signs appeared, subtle at first. A growing worry gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, willing everything to be okay.

Then came the miscarriage.

The room was heavy with silence, the kind that feels suffocating and oppressive. Your eyes were red from the tears you had shed, each one a testament to the depth of your loss. The sterile whiteness of the doctor's office seemed to mock the vibrant dreams you had once held.

The doctor’s words were like a sharp blade cutting through the haze of hope you had been clinging to. “You won’t be able to have children, Mrs. Geto. I am so sorry.” he said softly, his voice compassionate but firm.

The words hung in the air, each syllable a painful puncture to the fragile balloon of hope that had floated between you and Suguru. At that moment, the world seemed to fall apart.

The colors of the room blurred together, the sounds of the doctor’s voice faded into a distant hum, and the only thing that remained was the crushing weight of the news. It was as if the very foundation of your dreams had shattered, leaving behind a void that seemed too vast to fill.

The future you had imagined—of shared late-night feedings, tiny feet pattering around the house, the joy of watching a child grow—was now nothing more than a distant, unreachable fantasy. The dream you and Suguru had so carefully built together crumbled, leaving behind an aching emptiness that felt like a gaping hole in your heart.

You looked at Suguru, and in his eyes, you saw the same devastation mirrored back at you. The strength and support that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship now felt fragile, as if the very fabric of your shared hopes had been torn apart. His hand reached for yours, trembling slightly, and you could feel the shared grief pulsing between you.

As you and Suguru drove home, the silence in the car was almost unbearable. The world outside seemed muted, as if the colors and sounds had been drained away. The roads stretched out in front of you, but they felt meaningless, like they led nowhere important. The weight of the news settled heavily on your shoulders, and neither of you knew how to break the quiet.

For days, you were unapproachable, lost in a fog of devastation. The loss felt like a gaping chasm that nothing could fill. Conversations became infrequent and strained, and even the comfort of routine seemed distant and hollow. Suguru was there, his presence a constant but silent support, and though he tried to offer solace, the words and gestures seemed inadequate against the depth of your shared grief.

The stillness in the house felt almost oppressive. You found yourself sitting alone in the backyard, the garden now a quiet reflection of your internal turmoil. The familiar sight of your favorite flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to offer no solace. You sat there, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy, trying to make sense of the void that had settled in your life.

Suguru came out and joined you, quietly taking a seat beside you on the patio. He took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to carry the weight of the world. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

“You know, baby…..” he began softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, “it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to not have all the answers or to be okay right away.”

His words were simple but carried a depth of understanding that only someone who truly cared could offer. You turned to look at him, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to move past this.” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I know.” He whispers to you with tenderness. Tenderness you will never truly deserve. “But you know, baby…..We’ll always be together.”

“I know that.” you retorted, your voice tight and strained as you tried to contain the wave of emotion threatening to break free. “But I just… I wish I could have given you a child, you know? A child that’s a mix of you and me. I just…”

Your words trailed off, leaving a raw vulnerability exposed. The weight of your regrets hung heavily in the air, mingling with the sorrow that had become a constant companion. Suguru’s eyes, usually so full of life and energy, now reflected a deep, pained empathy.

His purple orbs roamed over your face, taking in the sight of you so broken and anguished. The sight of you in such distress was almost too much for him to bear. His own heart ached at the realization that there was little he could do to ease your pain.

“Does our lifetime of love need to leave evidence?” Suguru asked softly, his voice tender yet resolute. “Does…..does it need more than what there is?”

His question wasn’t just a consolation; it was a reflection of his deep belief in the essence of your relationship. You turned to him, the tears welling in your eyes now spilling over, blurring your vision. The raw honesty in his words cut through the fog of your grief, reaching the core of your heart.

“We have each other now, baby.” Suguru continued, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “And we love each other. That’s all that matters.”

His words were simple but powerful, a balm to the wound that had seemed insurmountable. His words broke something inside of you, not in a painful way, but in a way that let all the pent-up sorrow flow out.

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, and Suguru wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to. In his embrace, in the warmth of his presence, you found the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

You cried for the loss, for the future you had dreamed of, but you also cried for the love you still had. Suguru was right. You had each other, and in that love, you found strength. That’s all that truly mattered.

Geto Suguru held you close as your tears flowed, his hands gently rubbing your back, whispering words of comfort that barely reached your ears. But his presence, steady and unwavering, spoke louder than any words could.

In his arms, you found a fragile sense of peace, a reminder that even in this moment of heartbreak, you weren’t alone. His touch was familiar, grounding, and you turned to look at him. There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep understanding that made your heart ache in the best way. He smiled at you.

“I know this isn’t what we imagined.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’ve been thinking… Maybe it’s okay if our love doesn’t leave a legacy in the way we thought. Maybe our love can just be… us.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling into your heart. Suguru had always been your anchor, the person who knew how to pull you back when the world felt too overwhelming. In that moment, you realized that maybe he was right.

Maybe your love didn’t need to be measured by the future you had imagined, by the children you thought you would have. Maybe it was enough to have each other, to share this life together, and to hold onto the love that had always been there. Maybe this was all there has to be. Maybe….this was enough.

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t filled with sorrow. You squeezed Suguru’s hand, leaning into his warmth. “I love you.” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “I love you so much.”

He pulled you into his arms once more, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you too. Always.”

In that quiet moment, you realized that while the future you had once dreamed of was no longer possible, there was still a future waiting for you. A future where it was just the two of you, building a life together, creating memories that were uniquely yours. And as long as you had Suguru by your side, that was enough.

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YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOUR HUSBAND’S DREAMS WERE BEAUTIFUL. Even after everything, your husband Suguru had always been a dreamer. He never gave up even after the rollercoaster life had dealt you. Everything you both went through—the heartache, the healing—he found a new dream. It was no longer about building a family or leaving a legacy.

His new dream was much simpler, yet so much more meaningful: seeing the world with you. He wanted to explore every corner of the earth by your side, to share in the beauty of new experiences together, and to make memories that would last a lifetime.

There was one place, in particular, that you had always talked about—Grindelwald. The snow-covered mountains, the crisp winter air, the breathtaking views from atop the peaks.

It was a dream you had held close for as long as Suguru could remember, and now, it had become his dream too. He wanted nothing more than to take you there, to hike those snow-dusted trails and see the world unfold beneath you, together.

The two of you started saving for the trip, setting aside small amounts whenever you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the dream alive. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Each time you neared your goal, something else would come up—unexpected expenses, repairs, emergencies. And each time, you had to dip into your savings, pushing the dream further and further away.

The years passed, and the dream remained just that—a dream. Life after all was always busy, life had always had other plans. But you were just happy, being with him. Being together was more than enough.

Yet, Geto Suguru never gave up. He never forgot the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about seeing pictures of Grindelwald, and he was determined to make it happen one day, no matter how long it took.

Then, one quiet evening, many years later, your husband Suguru sat across from you, his once dark hair now streaked with bright vibrant silver. His hands were still steady, but time had softened their strength. He looked at you with the same love he always had, and there was something different in his eyes—something hopeful, something excited.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two plane tickets, holding them out for you to see.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the destination: Switzerland.

“We’re going, finally!” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re finally going to see Grindelwald.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a cascade of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could voice a response, an unfamiliar, sharp ache deep within your body made you pause. It was a discomfort that had been gnawing at you for some time, a persistent shadow that you had tried to ignore.

At first, you dismissed it as stress or perhaps a lingering side effect of the emotional turmoil you had been through. But as the days turned into weeks, the ache intensified, becoming an unwelcome companion in your life.

You tried to push through it, attributing it to the residual strain of the recent loss and the emotional weight you were carrying. Yet, the pain was relentless, and it wasn’t long before you knew you could no longer ignore it. After several visits to various doctors, numerous tests, and consultations that felt endless, the diagnosis finally came: cancer.

The words hit you like a physical blow, the gravity of the diagnosis sinking into your bones. Cancer. It was a term that seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainty. The doctors’ explanations, though thorough and compassionate, felt distant and detached, as if they were speaking a language you couldn’t quite grasp.

The news was like a seismic shift in your world. It felt as though everything you had been trying to hold together was unraveling. The tears that had been welling up before were now flowing freely, mingling with the shock and fear that gripped you. You tried to process it all, but the weight of the diagnosis was overwhelming. It was as if the universe had decided to compound your grief with a new and daunting challenge.

You found yourself grappling with the implications of the diagnosis, trying to come to terms with the reality of what lay ahead. The future that had once seemed so full of potential and hope was now clouded by uncertainty. The plans and dreams you had cherished were overshadowed by the looming shadow of illness.

Suguru was there, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His own emotions were a mix of concern and determination, but he tried to remain strong for you. In the quiet moments, as you both grappled with the weight of the diagnosis, he held you close, offering a solace that words couldn’t fully convey.

Everything about it was a crushing blow. But Suguru held firm and so did you. You wanted to fight it. After all that time, your dreams together were about to come true. You didn’t want to give up just yet. You wanted to live on. You wanted to go. You wanted to have more time. With him.

But life wasn’t always as one wants it to be. You were admitted to the hospital soon after, the trip to Switzerland slipping away, replaced by sterile rooms and treatment plans. Geto Suguru was devastated. He had waited so long, saved so carefully, and now, just when it seemed possible, this had happened.

But as you lay in the hospital bed, weakened but still filled with love for the man sitting beside you, you knew there was something more important than the trip, more important than the dream that never came to be.

You called him over, and with trembling hands, you handed him the scrapbook you had kept over the years—the one filled with all the adventures you’d already shared, the places you had seen together, the memories you had created.

“You’ve always been my greatest adventure, you know?” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. “We may never get to see Grindelwald together, but that doesn’t mean the dream has to end.”

Your husband Suguru looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, unable to speak.

“I want you to keep making memories, Suguru. I want you to keep having adventures. Take the tickets, go see the world… live for both of us. Because as long as you’re alive, as long as you’re making memories, there will always be evidence that I live on too.”

Suguru’s hand tightened around yours, his tears finally falling. He shook his head, unable to imagine a world without you, without your shared dream. But you smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You’ve always been the dreamer, Suguru.” you whispered. “Don’t let that part of you die. Keep dreaming, keep living for me, for us. Our love… it’s more than just a place or a moment. It’s a lifetime of memories. And as long as you’re out there, making new ones, I’ll be with you.”

Suguru nodded, his heart breaking but understanding what you meant. You had always been his greatest love, and now, even in this painful moment, you were still giving him the strength to carry on.

As he sat by your side, holding your hand tightly, Suguru made a silent promise—to keep your love alive, to honor the life you had shared, and to one day, perhaps, stand atop those snow-covered mountains of Grindelwald, knowing that you were with him in every step, in every breath, in every memory he made.

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HE WASN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER. But he still had a promise to fulfill to you. Geto Suguru stood at the base of the trail, staring up at the towering Alps, their snow-covered peaks gleaming under the summer sun.

The path before him was steep, challenging, but it was the journey he had promised to make—for you, for both of you. He reached up to touch the small locket that hung around his neck, a picture of you carefully tucked inside. Your smile was his anchor, even now, long after you were gone.

The climb was grueling, especially for someone his age. His knees ached, his breath came in short, shallow gasps, but he pressed on. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, reminding him of the dream you had shared for so many years—to see Grindelwald together, to hike these mountains and stand at the top of the world.

As he ascended, memories of you filled his mind. He could still hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his, see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about this place.

It had been your dream, but over time, it had become his as well. Even after all those years of saving, when life had repeatedly forced you to spend the money on more pressing needs, the dream had never faded.

Now, finally, he was here. But he was alone.

Each step was harder than the last. The trail wound higher and higher, becoming more treacherous, but Suguru refused to stop. He clutched the locket, his fingers brushing over the metal as if your presence was embedded within it.

“I promised you,” he whispered to the open air, as though you were walking beside him. “I promised we’d see this together.”

It took hours, his body protesting with every movement, but at last, Suguru reached the summit. The world spread out before him, vast and beautiful, with the jagged peaks of the Alps stretching into the distance. The view was breathtaking—just as you had always said it would be.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring out at the endless sky. Tears welled in his eyes, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He opened the locket and gazed at your face, your smiling eyes staring back at him. You should have been here with him. You should have seen this with your own eyes.

“This is for you, baby.” he murmured, his voice cracking as tears spilled down his cheeks. “We made it, love. We’re finally here.”

Suguru stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding the locket and letting the wind carry his words. The silence of the mountains felt sacred, and for a moment, he could almost feel your presence beside him, hear your voice on the breeze.

After a long while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the two of you, from years ago, standing side by side, laughing as the sun set behind you. It was a moment of joy, of love, captured forever. He knelt down carefully and placed the frame on a small, flat rock at the very peak of the mountain. The picture stood there, delicate but steadfast, a testament to the love you had shared.

Suguru stood back, his gaze soft as he looked at the photo. He ran a trembling hand through his silvered hair, then placed his hands together, pressing the locket to his chest. “We don’t need evidence for our love, you know that, baby?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want… I want everyone to know that there was love somewhere.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“And it will be here. Always.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and the grass around him, as if the earth itself acknowledged his words. Suguru stood there, the weight of his age and grief heavy on his shoulders, but in his heart, there was a quiet peace. This was your place now, your memory, your love, etched into the mountains for all time.

As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Alps, geto Suguru turned and began his descent. With each step, he carried the knowledge that your love was eternal, not bound by the constraints of time or place. It lived on—in the memories, in the moments, and now, on the very peak of the world.

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