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cherry-leclerc · 1 year 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 million dollar man, lana del rey , yayo, lana del rey !

STOP AND READ:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You up for Vegas?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly why.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yayo.

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

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

Let me put on a show for you, daddy.

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

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

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

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

Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”

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

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

“Where do you want me?”

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

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

“Oh, right. Um…”

You grin. “First time?”

He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”

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

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

“It fucking sucks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

Tap tap.

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

"Warten! Warten!"

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”

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

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

He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”

“Authentic. How’d you get it?”

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

“Let’s just leave it at old.”

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

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always am.”

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

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

“I wanted to see you.”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”

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

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

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I take you home?”

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

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

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

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

“6’5.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not acting like a child—”

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

“But my things—”

“I’ll send for them.”

“My downpayment—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”

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

“Of course. Take care, Toto.”

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

“You look tired.”

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

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

“See what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do mind. I mind a lot.”

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

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

“Wanna feel something nice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a dumb question.”

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

“No.”

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

“Tempting, but still no.”

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

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

“He said yes.”

“The car talks now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m being serious.”

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

“I would take you—”

“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”

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

“Are you fucking with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Very.”

“Actually, I am too.”

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

“Is money the issue here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp. “Are you insane?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it that obvious?”

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

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

“Do you need something?”

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

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

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

“What did you do?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

He sighs. “Please do.”

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

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

“He what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp. “I would murder him.”

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

“Nope.”

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

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

You’re going to miss me, watch.

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit.”

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

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

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

“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not lying—”

“Really?”

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

“I never saw anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

“What else did she say?”

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

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

“I swear that’s all.”

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

“I’m not telling you.”

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

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

“Who did this to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

“What, sweetheart?”

Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll walk you through it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips curl. “No idea.”

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

“Are you on birth control?”

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

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

Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”

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

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

“There it is.”

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

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

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

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

“Toto, Toto, Toto—”

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

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

“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.”

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

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

“I love you, Toto Wolff.”

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

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

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

“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d be a fool to deny.

So, you accept.

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

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

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

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

“I’m not quitting.”

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

More heavy silence. “Sure.”

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

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

“I’m taking the car. See you later.”

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

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

We should think about Jack.

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

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Great! Where is she?”

“Around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this is strange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he deserves it…you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toto Wolff was just the same.

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

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

You’re screwed up and brilliant.

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

Look like a million dollar man.

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

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

So why is my heart broke?

“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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writers-potion · 1 year ago

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Writing Strong Opening Lines

This is the kind of information your first line should provide:

the name of the character (the speicifcity creates and illusion of reality from the get-go)

Notify that something bad is about to happen.

Provide a feeling of motion (it doesn’t neccessarily have to be the character moving)

Talk about a (small) disturbance to the character’s everyday life.

Types of Novel Openings

Action (in medias res)

Jump into the story with no delay - have something interesting happening.

“They threw me off the hay truck about noon."

2. Dialogue

Show conflict between the characters speaking.

“Isn’t it true you ahve a motive to lie?” / “Excuse me?”

3. Raw Emotion

Make readers sympathize with the MC, who is experiencing a strong, universal emotion (like sadness, anger, etc.).

“I do not look. I don’t ask where. I don’t because Annie’s mother died seven months ago. I stand motionless in the line, looking just like everyone else except for the hot tears that have begun to sting my eyes.”

4. Look-back Hook

Suggest that there is a not-to-be-missed story that’s about to be told

“The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years — if it ever did end — beganm, so far as I can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newsppaer gloating down a gutter swollen with rain”

5. Attitude

When using first-person narration, show some attitude and unique voice.

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”

6. Prologues - entice the reader to move to chapter 1

Action Prologue: Start off with some big scene, often involving death

Framing a story - give the reader the view of a character about to look back and tell the story.

The teaser - present a scene at the beginning that will happen later on in the book

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕

Reference: <Write Great Fiction: Plot and Structure (techniques and exercises for craftin a plot that grips readers from start to finish)> by James Scott Bell

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writingsbytee · 6 months ago

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HE'S NOT YOU - AARON PIERRE X BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER

WARNINGS: 18+; minors don’t interact

PAIRING: Aaron x Lauren, “Lo” (reader)

SUMMARY: You and Aaron are roommates and he gets jealous when you get hit on by a client. It switches POV’s throughout, so if that’s something you don’t enjoy, this might not be the one for you.

TROPES: friends to lovers; mutual pining; soft-dom; use of pet names; mostly a lot of dialogue and fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,611

A/N: Ok y’all created a monster! I’ve been hooked reading what everyone’s been writing about Aaron. You guys are so creative! I’m a little sensitive about my writing because I’m just getting into it but I do accept constructive criticism/feedback. Happy reading! Muah <3 p.s. this isn’t proofread.

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Lauren?!” Aaron shouts entering your shared condo. He was so excited, Aaron got the call not too long ago that he’d just landed a major project. It's probably the biggest one he’s ever done so far. On his way home to share the good news, he picked up your favorite Indian takeout to celebrate.

Eyes frantically searching the common area, Aaron moved his search deeper into your home. ‘Where is she?’ he thought to himself. Finally, making it to your bedroom door he knocked twice. When he got no response after about 30 seconds he tried twisting the doorknob—the gentle click alerting him that the door was unlocked. Aaron peeked his head in the door, swiveling from left to right looking for you.

He could hear the shower now, and your gentle humming some song that you’ve been singing around your home for days. Aaron let out a gentle sigh before retreating out the door. That is before something on your bed caught his eye. Not thinking, Aaron pushed your door open and barged into your room. The black lingerie set with matching garter laid flat on your bed as if it took you all day to find the perfect set.

Aaron was at war with his emotions. On one hand, he was turned on. The idea of his sweet, innocent Lauren on her knees waiting for him wearing this was almost too much to think about. On the other hand, he was pissed. Who was she wearing this for? Where is she going? Aaron reached out to touch the material. The lace was soft and delicate in his hands like it had been well taken care of. How was he supposed to even look at you knowing you had this on under your clothes?

Aaron’s attention turned back to your bathroom door as he heard the water shut off. Quickly exiting your room he made it back to the kitchen to start unpacking the dinner he bought for you both. It was getting harder and harder for him to hide his true feelings about you. You both had met right out of college, completely on a whim. Aaron was looking for a roommate and posted an ad online. When you replied, you had no idea what’d be in store for you.

“Aaron you’re home!” You shouted as you made your way into the kitchen. You looked fucking phenomenal in your all-black ensemble. Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off you, figure accentuated in your slacks and button-up. Hair styled impeccably in a messy but neat low bun. Looking like a boss bitch in your power suit had Aaron a bit turned on.

“Don’t tell me you’re meeting a client,” Aaron groaned. He should’ve known that after seeing what you had laid out in the bed. You’re a PR agent for a few celebrities and big-wig politicians but you’d been going back and forth recently with some cocky CEO asshole. He’s been giving you the run-around, pitting you and another agent against each other. When you finally drew your line and decided that the money wasn’t worth it, your client had his team calling you nonstop.

“Just a quick dinner. Put your shoes on and come with me. I’ll pay for all your drinks,” you persuade batting your eyelashes at him. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that?

“Fine but we’re taking my car,” Aaron says. You finally take notice of the dining room. Table set with candles and low lighting.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask as you spin around to look at your roommate.

Aaron takes on a sheepish expression, “I had some good news, and I wanted to celebrate with my best girl.”

Your heart warms at the boyish expression on Aaron’s face. Then you realize what he must be celebrating.

“Wait! You got the part didn’t you!?”, your heart rate accelerates as your excitement gets the best of you.

“I got the call today,” Aaron grins, all 32 of those perfect teeth on display. You let out a squeal before launching yourself into his arms.

You begin to smother his face in kisses.

“I’m so proud of you! You worked so hard for this opportunity Aaron. This was meant to be! I knew you had it in the bag! You have to come out with me now! We’re going to ‘the Flamingo Room’, it just opened.”

Aaron feels his face warm, “Nah, I don’t want to get in the way. You’re going there for work, not to party”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not taking no for an answer Aaron. If I have to drag your big ass out of here myself you’re coming with me. This meeting should be no longer than an hour, just finalizing a few details in my contract. Please come, I want to celebrate you.”

Aaron looks down at you, a small smirk forming, “How long do I have to freshen up?”

A small squeak leaves your lips as you run towards his room, “Forty-five minutes! Go shower, I’m picking out your outfit!”

A small chuckle leaves Aaron’s lips as he watches you dash down the hall. Tonight is the night, he’d decided. He would finally tell you how he felt about you. You were the first person he wanted to tell his good news to. The first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing before bed. How could he not fall in love with you? You’re beautiful, successful, a comedic genius, had a body to die for. He knows you’d caught him staring at that round plump ass more times than he could count.

Aaron had his hand on your lower back as he led you two into the lounge.

“If it wasn’t obvious, you look beautiful princess,” Aaron said looking down at you. Your cheeks warmed a shy smile forming on your lips. Doesn’t he know that he can’t say these things to you? You’d been hopelessly in love with your roommate for almost as long as you two had been living together. Did he know that? Obviously not.

“Thanks, big guy,” you say, kissing his cheek and wiping the excess lipgloss off. Aaron loved it when you doted on him like that. He didn’t want you to wipe the gloss off his cheek, he wanted to wear it like a badge of honor.

You flag the bartender giving her your card to start a tab. “Anything that big guy wants just put it on my tab, thanks gorgeous,” you said winking at the bartender. Not that she noticed, she was too busy staring at Aaron. Not that you can blame her he looks fucking delicious in his all-black ensemble, the semi-sheer button-up being the star of the show. You could see your client waving at you from across the room. Putting a finger up to signal ‘one minute’ you turn to Aaron.

“Ok, I shouldn’t be too long. He’s only getting an hour and fifteen minutes, and then I’m all yours.”

“Mm I like the sound of that, hurry back,” Aaron said smirking over the rim of his glass, which got to him surprisingly fast.

You feel your cheeks warm, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips before muttering a goodbye and heading to your client. You had to get your head on straight, mind turning to mush whenever Aaron was around. In your mind, you decided that you were finally going to tell him how you felt about him. You wanted him like you’d never wanted a man before. Not wanting to disrupt the bond you two already had, but something had to give.

“Lauren, can you hear me?” Your client said.

Snapping back to reality you plastered a fake smile.

“Yes Charlie, I’m listening. Just enjoying the view,” you say glancing toward Aaron again. He looked so fucking sexy leaning against the bar. With his 6’3 frame and impressive build he towers over most people.

“So have you read over the file I gave you?” you ask taking a sip of the red wine he’d ordered. It was strong and bitter, which wasn’t your taste, but you were being polite.

“Yeah, everything seems in order. Legal finally agrees with all the changes you’ve proposed. I have it ready to sign”, Charlie says.

“Great!”, You beam. You could sign and get back to Aaron. You wanted to let loose and have fun, you’d been working nonstop with finalizing your contract and a break is within your reach. After signing, you slid the contract back over to Charlie. You glance back in Aaron’s direction, a small frown forming on your lips as you see the bartender flirting with him. A small huff leaves your lips as you re-focus on your client.

“So we’ll be spending a lot of time together? You better get used to seeing this ugly mug” Charlie asks with a smirk on his face. Charlie was fine, the best way to describe him would be a Paul Walker doppelgänger. He’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and has recently had to have a change in PR firms due to a conflict of interest.

“Me or someone else from my team at the firm,” you say with an awkward smile. Charlie’s fine that’s not the issue, the issue is standing across the lounge looking like Scar personified. Aaron shoots you a small smirk before mouthing ‘Hurry up!’. You bite your lip to contain your grin, you were so far gone for this man.

“I’d prefer you if I’m being honest, not too often my PR agent is so easy on the eyes,” Charlie smirks, topping off your glass.

“Oh Charlie ever the charmer,” you squeeze out a fake laugh. Ok, it was time to end this meeting now.

“Well, if you have no other questions or concerns I have a personal obligation I need to get to”, you say rising slowly. Charlie shoots out of his chair coming to your side to pull the remainder of your chair out.

“Of course! My driver’s right outside. Walk me out?” He asked offering you his arm. You finish your drink before grabbing your purse and his arm. Leading you two outside. You sneak a glance in Aaron’s direction to see him with an annoyed frown on his face. Charlie guides you the rest of the way out of the club, you two approaching a blacked-out suburban. You spot Charlie’s driver get out to open his door. He stops short turning towards you.

“I look forward to working more closely with you,” Charlie said grabbing my hand. He brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss there.

You open your mouth to reply but before you can an arm snakes around your waist.

“Hey, baby you almost finished?” Aaron's voice takes you by surprise as his hand spreads across your hip.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at your usually gentle giant.

“Just about. Aaron this is my new client Charlie. Charlie this is Aaron, my boyfriend”, the lie slips so easily from your lips. It feels natural.

“Oh hey man, nice to meet you. I’m a big fan,” Charlie says reaching his hand towards Aaron. They shake and an awkward silence settles among you all.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer than I have to. You guys have a good night. Nice to meet you Aaron,” Charlie has a slightly frightened look on his face as he retreats toward his car. We watch him get in and drive away before you spin in Aaron’s arm, an accusing smirk on your face.

“You couldn’t wait five more minutes?” you asked chuckling slightly.

“Nah, motherfucker was getting too handsy. He needed to know his place.”

You were barely paying attention to what he was saying. Aaron’s chest is puffed out, his face in that beautiful scowl you love, and his voice has dropped a pitch. Oh god, he’s hot when he’s being all possessive.

“What’s the matter? You jealous big guy?”, you ask looking up at him.

Aaron looks down at you, something flashes in his eyes.

“You know what? Yeah, I was getting pretty pissed off at watching him make googly eyes at you and you laugh at all his jokes. I don’t want to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you anymore. You can’t deny our chemistry. When I got the call today, you were the first person I thought of calling. I’m sorry if I jumped in and messed up the end of your deal, I was just tired of seeing him touch you,” Aaron exhales his face softening.

“I wish you’d told me this sooner. We could’ve been dating by now! I never wanted Charlie Aaron, he’s not you” You laughed launching yourself into his arms.

“So I take it you feel the same way?”, he’s smirking down at you, gaze lingering on your lips.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. Surprised I didn’t give myself away,” you say rolling your eyes playfully.

“ I should’ve said something to you sooner, you’re right. I just would rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. Come on let’s go inside, we still need to celebrate”, Aaron places a kiss on the corner of your lips before grabbing your hand and leading you back inside.

You were on cloud nine. That all happened so quickly that it seemed too good to be true. You forgot who you were dealing with, Aaron is so emotionally intelligent and articulate with his thoughts. Effective communication was such a turn-on for you. You allowed Aaron to lead you inside, turning your brain off.

You loved the fact that Aaron’s a real man, no coaching, no faking, just a real man. He knows how to communicate, he’s thoughtful, caring, and sweet. He never lets you walk on the same side as traffic. Always seem to know what you need before you know it yourself. He’s always been in-tune with you and your emotions and vice versa.

Aaron’s heart rate hadn’t slowed down yet. He was scared shitless that you were going to reject him. When he saw the way your eyes lit up when he made his confession he didn’t know why he was so scared in the first place. He’s in love with you. Is he going to tell you that now? No, probably not, soon though. Now he’s just going to enjoy the night and hopefully finish it with his face in between your thighs.

You wanted Aaron. Your back pressed against his front as you two danced. Aaron’s hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer, the action making your tummy flutter.

You spun in his arms taking in the tall drink of water in your arms. “You look so fucking sexy in your outfit. I did a good job”

Aaron tilts his head back, a bark of laughter leaving his lips. “Thank you, princess. I love being dressed by you.”

Your cheeks warmed and a soft smile formed on your face.

“Yeah? you like it when I call you that don’t you baby?” Aaron asks his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. Your mind goes blank, did he just..

“Answer Daddy when he asks you a question princess,” Aaron says his voice taking on that low rattle that does shameful things to your imagination. You look up at him, this Aaron looks completely different from the Aaron you arrived with. Pupils blown wide, eyes the color of a foggy Oregon forest, and his lips partially upturned into a devious smirk. This man looks like sex.

You nod slowly, “Yes Daddy,” you whisper. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the atmosphere in the club but you’d do anything right now to please this man.

Aaron hums happily, “That’s my good girl. You look so pretty tonight, you wanted us to match huh?”

“Mhm, I love that shirt on you, it brings out your muscles. You couldn’t be sexier if you tried,” you said rubbing your hands up and down his arms.

“Mmm, trying to sweet talk me, princess?” he asks pulling you closer. You had to crane your neck to look up at him. Even in your heels, your 5’3 frame was dwarfed by his size. You loved how big he was, but he didn’t show it. His size is a byproduct of his commitment to his health and well-being.

“Maybe I am. Who can blame me? You’re the most handsome man here, and that’s just looks. Nobody here knows how funny, sweet, caring, emotionally articulate -,” you were abruptly cut off by Aaron pressing his lips to yours. It was like the world stopped. Of course, you’d imagined kissing Aaron but that was nothing compared to the real thing. His lips are as soft as they look, providing the perfect amount of pressure. A soft whimper leaves your lips as Aaron’s hand grips your waist. Aaron pulled away and you chased his lips drunk on the feeling of kissing him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he chuckles. You look up at him a little dazed.

“C’mon baby, let’s get out of here. I’m ready to have you all to myself,” Aaron leads you back to the bar to close out your tab (of course he gave his card to the bartender the minute you turned away) before heading out.

You can feel the charged energy between you both as you leave the lounge. You feel like a kid on Christmas, waiting and waiting for Santa to come and now that he’s here you’re ready to unwrap your present. Aaron opens your door and helps you in, the 3 glasses of wine you had finally catching up to you. You’re not drunk, just a tiny bit buzzed. Butterflies driving monster trucks are roaming around in your belly. You can smell the citrus and sandalwood of Aaron’s cologne and you hum happily.

“You smell so good,” you sigh whimsically.

Aaron reaches across you to buckle you in and chuckles, “Thank you, princess. Let’s get you home yeah?” You nod before leaning up and placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah Daddy, take me home.”

“Fuck, I need you princess,” Aaron groans as he pushes you through the front door with his lips attached to your neck.

You turn in his arms, deft fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “I would rip this off you but, you look so good in it,” you smirk up at him.

“Sweetheart, you’re testing me here. I’m trying to be patient but keep it up and watch what happens,” Aaron said pupils blown so wide his eyes look like a storm cloud. You take your fingers off his top before taking a small step back. Your fingers now coming up to your own blouse. Fingers working through the buttons one by one.

Aaron leans up against the wall biting his lip as he watches you undress for him.

“Slower,” he says kicking off his shoes.

Your blood ran hot, you had no idea how to be sexy. Lacking in sexual experience, your last boyfriend breaking up with you because it, you were now in your head more than ever. Fingers hovering over your third button you begin second guessing yourself. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re not as experienced as he likes?

The negative thoughts start swirling around in your mind so rapidly, you don’t even realize when Aaron makes his way over to you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm?”, Aaron reaches up to your blouse his hand gently moving yours aside.

You shake your head avoiding eye contact, “Nothing.”

Aaron grabs your chin tilting your head back to look into his eyes, “Lauren if we do this, I need to know what you’re thinking, and I need you to be honest with me. I’m not here to judge you so tell me. What’s got your face all frowned up?”

“What if I’m not what you expect? When I take my clothes off. You work with models, beautiful actresses. My body doesn’t look like theirs”, you say all your insecurities spilling out. Your hands clasped in front of you wringing them together (a nervous trait you have).

Aaron’s face hardens, he couldn’t believe you’d say those things about yourself. How couldn’t you see how unbelievably sexy you are. Now he was going to have to show you.

“Lo, do you trust me?”, Aaron asks.

You nod your head giving him a positive answer, “Baby, of course I do.”

A sinister smirk takes over Aaron’s face, “Then be a good girl and go upstairs, take everything off except for your underwear, and wait for me on my bed.”

GOTCHA!!! If y'all want a part 2 PLEASE like and comment. As always constructive critisism is appreciated but, please be gentle.

@simplyzeeka

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #aaronpierre #aaronpierresmut #rebel ridge fanfiction #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader

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macgyvermedical · 1 year ago

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Study Strategies

For everyone asking "What does 'playing' with the material even mean when it comes to studying??"

Well, basically when you think about the material in a way that applies to your real life or interests, or that entertains you.

Writing a tumblr post about it (my blog started out as a study tool when I was in nursing school, because I re-wrote what I was learning in fandom/fic terms)

Talking about it or explaining it to a friend that is NOT in your field of study

Trapping your blorbos in a weird situation they can only get out of by learning the material (I once went through a whole scenario in my head about my blorbo getting injected with insulin and his friend having to figure out how long they had to give him sugar before they died to learn insulin onset-peak-duration)

Flash card "war" where 2 or more of your friends bring their flashcards and every time you or a friend puts down a card, the one that gets the answer the closest first wins the cards (google allowed)

Make a comedy routine about the material using only jokes that would be funny if someone understood it

Order a list of facts from least to most interesting- bonus points if you do it with a friend and you both have to agree, bringing your own arguments to the table as to why a particular fact deserves a certain rank

Finding an old textbook on the material at your school's library and figuring out what still holds up to today's knowledge

Find a group of people on the internet that are really interested in what you're studying and get the latest in DiscourseTM

Make the most misleading fact sheet you can make on the subject, with everything you say being technically true

Make a fact sheet that holds up to the reading comprehension of tumblr dot com

Basically anything that reframes studying from "I hate this and it takes up so much time" to "something I was probably going to do anyway for fun, but this time with more [subject]".

#studyblr #study #college #university #student #motivation #study tips

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thegreenlynx · 4 days ago

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My Best Friend's a Pervert - H.JS

Description: Your best friend Jisung is your rock, he's tough and he supports you through everything. He's the most important person in your life and the one you are most comfortable with. He's also a huge pervert, but as always you overlook everything.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Grinding/humping, perversion, dub-con(sorta), Fem Reader with Female anatomy

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: First full Smut posted on this account, based on this poll I did a few days ago. As always likes comments & re-blogs are very appreciated.

The two of you have been best friends for years. He's your rock, your strong pillar that holds you up when things get hard. You spend so much of your time together that everyone thinks you're dating. He's always there to take care of you, he spoils you rotten and when he's around you never need to worry about anything.

He's normally so collected, so stable. He is in control, he has everything under control. He keeps the staring to a minimum. He doesn't push you, he stays within the boundaries he ought to as a friend. He allows you to cuddle with him and goof off the way you always do, never letting the darker parts of him take over when you do. He never takes advantage of your comfort with him. But today he just can't be that man.

The day started off rough. The whole week he's been overworked, his family won't stop hounding him about getting a girlfriend and visiting for an upcoming holiday he doesn't care about. And probably worst of all, you've begun coming over to his place and stealing his clothes when you hang out. You say it's more comfortable, he loses a little part of his self control to the wind every time.

It also doesn't help that just last night his stupid roommate Minho decided to tell you that you look hot in Jisung's clothes. You blushed so sweetly at the compliment but Jisung knows his hyung wasn't flirting with you. Not genuinely anyway, he was flirting with you on Jisung's behalf. Riling him up. Teasing him.

He's a cruel man.

Which brings Jisung to the current moment. He closes the door behind you as you enter the house, he kicks off his shoes as he watches you send a casual wave to Minho who leans lazily against the counter. The dark haired man smirks and ushers you over with a single finger and Jisung only narrows his eyes with clenching fists when you prance over to him with light steps and let him feed you a cookie. Minho treats you like you're his cat.

The sight is adorable really, the older man laughs with sparkling eyes and ruffles your hair and you giggle at him and step on his foot. On purpose he figures. Minho retaliates with a tickle attack that has your beautiful laughter echoing through the room. Melodic, cheerful, utterly carefree. It should make him happy to see the two of you getting along, normally it would too. He's not even a jealous guy. But today it just pisses him off.

He rolls his eyes and comes over to grab your wrist and drag you off. You let him but turn around slightly as you're pulled off. Minho laughs again, the playful glint in his eye never leaving, and feeds you one more cookie before patting you softly on the rear in an odd but comfortable silent goodbye.

When you enter the room Jisung runs his other hand through his hair and sighs. You let go and give him space, moving to his closet and digging around for one of his white over sized t-shirts. When you find it you smile giddily and throw it over his desk chair, peeling off your attire as you turn away from your best friend.

It shouldn't even phase him anymore. You're so comfortable with him he might as well be your brother. The thought disgusts him. He tries not to watch you undress to your pretty red lace panties, but finds himself admiring the way you pull his t-shirt over your head and hug it to yourself as you walk towards the bed.

He walks up behind you mostly in a daze, his head is empty of everything but you. The shirt barely covers your ass as you crawl onto the bed in front of him. He stands behind you watching your ass sway in your panties while you crawl. Intrusive thoughts seem to take over in that moment and he lands a rather harsh slap against the right cheek, unconsciously smiling to himself as he hears the loud clap followed by a small sweet yelp.

He wouldn't even be mad if you turned around and slapped his perverted ass right in the face. However instead of putting him in his place like you probably should have, you simply giggle softly and roll over on your back with your knees bent smiling up at him innocently.

Despite him knowing full well this is normal for you, that you mean nothing by it other than being comfortable around him and that it's probably entirely a platonic thing, It makes for a very lewd sight as you lay directly in front of him enticingly.

He knows how wrong it is to be thinking of his friend this way, he knows very well you are definitely NOT thinking any dirty thoughts during your hang outs with him, and it makes him feel like a criminal. He is definitely breaking at least 20 friend codes with the way he's gazing at your body right now.

Your legs are spread and the shirt has risen up, exposing all too much of your pretty curves and the delicate lace fabric that compliments your body so well. Your back is slightly arched off the mattress, displaying so clearly the prominent indent of your waist and the soft voluptuous curves of your hips and thighs.

He wants to touch you so bad he considers he may actually need therapy. Your arms are lying defensively down on the mattress, and he knows you probably wouldn't fight him if he did decide to touch you. The way that turns him on makes him feel disgusting.

He does give in slightly, only enough to where he knows you'll be too oblivious to take it any way but platonically, after-all you've always been a cuddly pair. You don't have to know what he's actually thinking in his head, nor the way it goes straight to his dick, you don't need to know how foggy you make his head feel.

He climbs slowly on top of you, your legs on either side of his as his face hovers above yours. His hands instinctively slide up your legs and to your waist, he squeezes the skin there and relishes in the soft feeling in his hands and the way your back arches slightly further off the bed while you unconsciously spread your legs a bit further with a small gasp. You're sensitive, it makes him smile as his thoughts stray even farther into the depths of hell and insanity, he really hates himself.

He'd probably feel a lot less disgusting if you weren't so innocent with things like this, the difference between your innocence and his makes him feel like he's taking advantage of you, perhaps also your friendship as a whole. Of course he doesn't only see you sexually, you're still one of his best friends. He still loves you like he never thought he could another person.

But you don't know this, you don't feel the same, it feels wrong. He feels like a sinner in church when he's alone with you. While you think of this as a cute little cuddle sesh with your bestie, he's desperately trying not to imagine digging his nails into your hips and slamming you further into the mattress or perhaps kissing you breathless while he lifts your shirt up and gropes you like a madman. He feels himself harden to an extent of borderline agony in his sweats at the thought.

He IS disgusting, knows this, and wishes he had more control over his thoughts and feelings than he currently does.

You're still looking up at him with a silly smile on your face, clearly entirely oblivious to everything as always. He relaxes (or tries to anyway), resting both hands on either side of your hips while he lays his head down on your chest. He takes comfort in the large plush swells he feels through the fabric. He feels a headache coming on at the lack of bra when he feels a nipple against the side of his face. The world just fucking hates him today. He can't even help the longing (read: desperate and pathetic) sigh that falls from his lips.

Of course you take it as he's just tired or stressed and not that he is trying really hard not to thrust his boner against your thigh in desperation like some kind of dog. He's so ashamed he genuinely wants to cry and has to bite back what he knows would be a rather pathetic and entirely humiliating whimper. However despite this (or maybe in spite of this, really) your gentle fingers lace through his hair, petting him so softly it would make anyone feel like they're precious.

He does take comfort in it. He loves having his hair played with, it makes him feel safe. He just wishes he didn't also think about how it'd feel to have you tugging at his hair in this exact position but a far different context. He hates the way he throbs in his pants, hates how pathetic he is and how much it hurts. He hates even more that he also kinda likes how it hurts, how you've got him so desperately wrapped around your finger, how you somehow manage to edge him without even being aware of it. Masochistic tendencies are not below him, apparently.

You giggle again, bringing your other hand up to rub his back. "Rough day?" Your voice drips of affection and honey and he almost melts, almost.

Instead he groans and huffs an irritated "hmph." His voice comes out raspy and deeper than usual, likely from the strain in his pants. He slides his hands back up to your waist and grips you harshly while turning his head to bury his face in between your breasts, shaking his head between them. His hair tumbles around on his head as he does it and you giggle again.

From your perspective it probably looked like an adorable gesture but from his it was anything but. He wants to rip your shirt off. He's so painfully hard and frustrated by the fact that he can't do all the things he wants to do. He wishes he could actually feel the skin of your breasts.

Their size is all too tempting and based off the parts of her body he has felt, he knows they would be incredibly soft and squishy. So impossibly smooth he is not sure he would be able to let go of them, perhaps it's good that you have him in the friend zone and he can't actually do that. Which is why he takes what he can get and nuzzles against them through the fabric like a kitten might, eyes glossing over even further with unrelenting lust.

You hum and seemingly in retaliation for the harsh grip still on your waist, you remove your hand from his head and tickle his side much like Minho had to you not even half an hour prior.

He supposes it's a fair punishment really. His grip is so hard he knows it's going to bruise, he will never admit that he really hopes it does, that even in a platonic sense he can mark you. Not only that but there's also no way it doesn't hurt by now. He has a tendency to grab you like this, usually unconsciously, but he's normally not this rough with it.

And well, he's incredibly ticklish. Like unbearably so. In fact he's so ticklish his immediate response to your tickling is to remove his hands from your waist and grab both of yours. He breathes heavily as he slams them above your head on the mattress, his face is now directly in front of yours and his glare is strong as he gazes into your eyes. In truth he loves the sight, and even as he glares at you he takes in the lovely view and commits it to memory. Jack-off fuel for at least a month.

You play around like this very often, Jisung has never once been genuinely angry with you nor does he typically react the way he just did. His mind is clouded with arousal and the ache in his pants in combination with the desperation he feels has genuinely ticked him off even further than his general frustration from earlier somehow.

You still don't react much other than a small gasp and the briefest moment of shock in your eyes before it shifts to simply gazing sympathetically back at his heated glare. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were that stressed out."

He feels even more annoyed with you apologizing when he's so very obviously the problem here. You make no move to get him to release you either and he hates and loves how you always let him do what he wants with you. Never being weirded out with it and always accepting him as he is, all his flaws included.

He goes to say it isn't your fault, grip not loosening in the slightest but the glare softens as he furrows his brows. "Y/n no... I-"

However, he's interrupted by the door swinging open all too casually. You both look over to see Minho standing in the doorway in complete horror. "Oh.. oh my god. Oh my god no. Shit. I'm sorry!" His face is bright red trailing all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears as he covers his eyes and swiftly turns around, slamming the door behind him.

Jisung feels his own blush creep up his face. Even if you aren't actually doing anything this position and your prominent lack of dress is bound to give off a heavily sexual impression, he knows this well. And that in combination with the fact that he has been sporting the most raging hard boner of his life this entire time is so humiliating he thinks he actually will cry this time. His own lingering frustrations and the fact that he still has to fight the urge to grind his hips against you don't help either, and he feels even more pathetic with how easily his eyes well up with tears.

His lip trembles slightly as he goes to pull away from you, face beet red and eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Mm so sorry.. h-he definitely thinks w-we're.." He sniffles and hangs his head as he goes to move completely off the bed. You are faster and immediately stop him however, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him back into yourself. Your thighs are flush against him and the softness brings him a small sense of relief in combination with even more arousal and he can't hold back the whimper this time. Both emotional and horny, he is so overwhelmed he can't think straight.

You guide his head back into your chest and he all too eagerly wiggles his face back between your breasts with a whine and what almost sounds like a sob. He realizes he is actually full on crying now, tears soaking through the fabric of the thin t-shirt you're wearing. He is embarrassed of course, but simply can't help but let it all out when your magic hands find their way back into his hair.

You massage his scalp with a calculated care that forms goosebumps all along his neck and arms. His chest swells, his stomach tickles with an absurd amount of butterflies, and his dick twitches again in his sweats all at once. He feels a little less pathetic at the more relieved and now muffled whimper he lets out this time.

"It's okay Sungie.. I'm not upset, I can explain it to him later if you want me to." He whimpers and sobs sadly in response, gripping tightly back onto your waist as a way to ground himself enough to speak.

Even so, his mouth and brain refuse to cooperate with him and he only mumbles incoherently. "B-but I.. he.. mm.... I-I don't.." You tug lightly at his hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. He wishes he was prepared enough to stop the loud whine that rumbles all the way through his body.

"Shh.. Relax bub, we can talk about it later, it's not a big deal." You run a hand up and down his spine while the other continues massaging his scalp. Jisung shifts uncomfortably and slides his hands down your sides, subtly memorizing the curvature of your body. He grabs your thighs, sliding you up the bed so he can properly lay on top of you. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he nuzzles further into your chest. The shirt is so soaked with tears that in certain places on your chest it has become see through, he nudges the plush of one breast with his nose with a sniffle and watches in awe as it jiggles at even the smallest movement. He whines and thrusts his aching cock against the mattress below you, overwhelmed by how much he wants to suck on your skin. Like a drug that might fix all his troubles and cure him of his frustrations.

You still don't seem to notice his behavior is anything but sweet and friendly, laughing softly at how cute he is. Completely unaware that even with all of this he is STILL so thoroughly mind fucked with arousal, mind swarming with nasty thoughts and daydreams. This ignorance encourages him to venture a bit further, testing the boundaries of what you will enable him to do to you. Too overwhelmed, turned on, humiliated, and turned on by being humiliated to think rationally enough to stop himself.

He groans. It's loud and very obviously sexual, even if your naive self will never pick up on it. It's deep from the bottom of his throat and it comes out more of a growl than anything. He's never heard himself make such a noise before in his life. One hand still on your thigh he slides the other hand up slowly, seductively slow. If it wasn't incredibly obvious before it should have been now but alas, you don't pick up on a thing even as his hand slides up to your hip. It slows to a brief stop, sliding a thumb under the strap of your panties as the other fingers wrap around your hip.

He's no longer actively crying but still sensitive and in a very whiny mood, if you pull away he will break down again and he knows this. His eyes are once again glossed over with arousal even with his face drenched in tears and he wets his bottom lip before subtly sinking his teeth into it to maintain whatever little self control he has left that's keeping him from tearing the panties off you right this second. Instead he pulls the panty string away from your skin a small distance, relishing in the small view of the hip bone it was doing a terrible job of hiding. He lets go with a mischievous smirk, enjoying very thoroughly the way your body jerks slightly and you gasp at the snap.

You only pull his hair a little in retaliation this time, not trying to upset him or cause him to spiral any further, but just enough to demonstrate your acknowledging what you think is him playfully trying to cheer himself up. He whimpers again, loving the feeling of your hands on him even if it isn't sexual or romantic to you, it definitely is to him. His masochistic ways love the way it stings for the briefest of seconds when you pull his hair. Your actions only serve to spur him on even further. His hands are tantalizingly slow as he glides them up your waist, sliding the shirt to bunch up just below your breasts.

You shiver as he runs a nail along the curve of your waist. He happily observes it with an endeared smile while taking in the bruises forming at your waist and hips. He loves how his hands are imprinted into your skin, thinks that's how it should always be. He lets his mind imagine what you'd look like with bruises from both his hands and mouth on your neck and chest as well. His sigh is shaky as his dick twitches again against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back, hands still on your waist, and observes you from above. You're beautiful as always, and your expression holds no discomfort with his actions. You smile at him sweetly while your hands drop to either side of you. You look so vulnerable like this, practically trapped, so easy to pin down. He bites his lip harder now, taking in such an attractive sight. No other woman could make him feel this way. He's sure of that much.

He decides not to pin you down again for now, favoring the idea of getting his hands even just a little closer to the beautiful, perfectly rounded swells he has become rather obsessed with. No one had to know how much he thought about your chest, nor the way he stared when you weren't looking. The way he imagined what they would feel like gripped in his hands or on his lips, the way he imagined what they would look like had he somehow been graced with the privilege of not having god damn clothing in the way.

But whether anyone knew or not, all of it was true. He was obsessed, in truth he never felt that attracted to other women's breasts not to mention the straight undeterred obsession he feels for yours. Never before had he even been interested in other women, he can't help but wonder why that is.

He's careful and slow, hesitant as he slides his hands up slightly to rest with the bunch of the shirt directly under your breasts. He watches your reaction carefully and slowly slides his fingers over the skin on the side of your breasts, not directly touching them but close enough to almost feel them.

The action lifts the shirt just enough to show the lowest portion of your boobs, nipples still entirely covered. His breathing shakes as he thinks about it, looking into your eyes as you stare patiently back at him. You still make no effort to stop him, only stretching your arms over your head with a pleased hum escaping your beautifully parted lips. He watches entranced as the shirt lifts the tiniest bit higher in your stretch. Your back arches fully and your body curves in the most enticing way he has ever seen, he groans as your chest pushes up with the arch. Your breasts perfectly shaped and so much easier to see with the new angle.

You smile guilelessly, gently as your hands remain above your head softly caressing his silk sheets. Your body is curved for him so perfectly he has to fight the urge to kiss every inch of your skin to worship the absolute goddess you most definitely have to be. He can't resist however the subtle thrust of his hips towards you. He manages enough restraint to not let his dick touch you but his hardened length now dripping with precum is so painfully obvious in his grey sweatpants. If you notice this, you don't show it and stay smiling sweetly at him.

His dick is so close to where he feels it belongs that it makes him feel crazy. His fingers unconsciously wrap around the bunch of your shirt and he tugs. "Please.." His voice is soft, a pleading whine as his mind has finally crossed the border into submissive pussy-drunk arousal. At this point he is so hooked and out of it you could literally step on him and he'd still moan. "Please y/n.. please" The desperation in his last word makes it sound like if you say no he'll not only start crying again but he might just keel over and die.

Your expression is shocked at first, but then quickly morphs into a deep concern. He was normally so strong and now he was falling apart in front of you (for you, really, but you still don't see it that way). "Baby it's okay, you're okay." Your voice is the softest it's ever been, you bring your hands up to wipe the tears from his face. "I'm right here bubs, whatever you need. I just want you to feel better." He whines and grinds his hips in the air again while rubbing his face against one of your hands. He inhales deeply to calm himself down slightly, breathing in your comforting scent.

He then gently and hesitantly begins lifting your shirt up. Your breath hitches at the cold air assaulting your nipples but you allow him to expose your body to his yearning eyes. As soon as your hardened nipples come into view he can't stop the thrust of his hips against your clothed pussy. He whines and whimpers pitifully as he gently rocks his hips back and forth against you. His eyes roll back slightly and he moans as soon as he lifts the shirt from over your head, throwing it across the room. You gasp and look up at him in shock.

With his hips still subtly rocking against you he moves his hands to grip both of your breasts. He moans loudly and groans at the way your soft breasts feel in his hands. Even better than he had imagined, he may very well become addicted. Your breathing has gone ragged, gasps escaping your lips each time his fingers graze your nipples. He growls, loving having you react to his touches. He pinches one nipple between his fingers and toys with it, observing the way you squirm on his sheets. He twists and you yelp, not pained but surprised. The sound is so arousing he groans and dips his head towards the other breast. He continues to play with you while he kisses the swell of your boob. You sigh shakily and unconsciously meet his thrusts with a subtle one of your own.

"Ah.. s-so perfect." He moans, sucking a dark red bruise into your breast. Your whimper is like music to his ears, he wants more. He moves down to your nipple and begins sucking on it happily, he's too out of it to even realize what it is exactly he's doing to his best friend but it feels so good.

His unoccupied hand goes to your thigh pulling you flush against him and relishing in the way you moan at the action. His hand slides back down to your hip, a strong grip holding you to grind against you harder. His moans turn into a string of curses, hips stuttering as he nears his high. His whimpers are full of pain and desperation as he falls apart on you.

"I've got you bub.. you can let go it's okay." You lay a gentle kiss to his head despite the rocking of your bodies as he grinds himself against you, then you gently massage his hair again. He sighs and relaxes in response to your touch, a broken moan escaping him as he comes undone in his sweatpants. His hips continue for a good thirty seconds through incoherent pleas and mumbles of your name against your nipple.

Once he has returned to earth he looks up at you like a kicked puppy, eyes again sparkly and glossed over with more tears as his lip trembles, expression completely fucked out but also lost and confused. He had never looked so vulnerable.

You stop him before he can even begin to apologize. Pulling him closer and cradling him in your arms as he sobs again. "Shh Jisung.. s'okay. I'm here and everything's okay you don't need to think right now. Let's just get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle okay?" He nods hesitantly in your shoulder and nuzzles into your hair. "Good boy, can you roll over for me?" You softly tap his hip to get him to lay on his back.

He does as he's told and looks up at you sadly with tears slowly falling from his eyes, but he tries his best to stay silent as you begin removing his pants. He's embarrassed but also too fucked out to do it himself. "I'll be right back, stay still for me." You walk out and into the bathroom before returning with a warm cloth.

You are careful and gentle as you removes his clothes, avoiding looking anywhere you don't have to in order to avoid embarrassing him any further. You then gently wipe him off, trying not to let yourself falter at his pained cries and whimpers of overstimulation.

Feeling you take care of him makes him feel safe and loved despite all of the mess that today has brought. However, he would also be lying if he said he didn't actually enjoy the way your touches hurt and overwhelmed him. He buries his desire for more and tries his best to simply be grateful for the amount you just gave him, when he totally deserved to be kicked right in the crotch for being a pathetic horny man who wants his best friend to ruin him.

You remove his shirt too, he isn't sure why really, he knows it isn't dirty. You then walk off to his closet and grab two of his baggy comfort tees and a pair of boxers from his drawer. He stays sniffling with a pout on his lips on the bed and doesn't even try to hide the way he watches your ass when you walk away, nor does he try to be subtle about checking out your lace panties and the way your boobs bounce as you walk back towards him.

He sighs content as you slide the comfy tee over his head and he raises his hips to help you with his underwear. He takes the other shirt from you and puts it gently on the bed before looking up at you and burying his face against your stomach as more tears fall from his eyes.

He's full on shaking now and he isn't exactly sure why. Nothing makes sense to him right now, his head feels funny, he's tired, mad at himself, embarrassed, ashamed, afraid, he has a head ache, he's dizzy. He's never felt so overwhelmed in his entire life. His arms wrap tightly around your body and he shakes with more sobs, body wracked with pent up frustration even his climax couldn't free him from. He can't even breathe.

"Baby.. please lay down Sungie.. please lay down for me." He chokes on a sob and gasps for air, whining as he forces himself to pull away and lay down like you tell him to. You grab the t-shirt from the bed and set it on the nightstand by his bed for later, picking up on the fact that he wanted it to stay off for now, whatever the reason may be.

He immediately curls into a ball sniffling, so fragile he may shatter if you aren't careful and you grab his favorite blanket from the side of the bed and drape it over him. You climb under it with him and he immediately sobs again and pulls you into him, desperately trying to be as close to you as possible. He knows how pathetic he must look but he can't help it. He's overwhelmed and so scared of losing you that he's now having a panic attack.

"Jisung.. You're scaring me, what's going on?" He starts hyperventilating at that, not wanting to have to explain his feelings for you, or why he did the things he just did, or how hard it is to be around you when you're.. well.. you. He doesn't want to have to say he's crazy about you, that he wants you to be his, that every little moment you share means so much more to him then it ever will to you, that every little seductive act you unconsciously make is agonizing to him. He doesn't even want to have to tell you about how work is stressing him out, about how tired he is. He doesn't wanna tell you that you're the only thing that makes it better, that you make everything better, and he simply cannot think straight with you around. That he doesn't even want to.

"I'm sorry baby, you don't have to tell me. I'm so sorry, breathe for me please. It's okay I'm right here, I'll take care of you." You rub his back and allow him to rest his head on top of your chest again. It's a comforting pillow and your hands, he swears they have healing powers, the way they make everything feel okay.

He gasps for air and tries to regulate his breathing. Holding your other hand up to his lips, his voice is hoarse and broken when he speaks. "Please.. Please d-don't leave.. Don't leave me.." His lips kiss your knuckles as he talks. He isn't opposed to begging for forgiveness and dropping on his knees to plead you to stay if it comes down to it.

"I'm not going anywhere, would never leave you bub." You kiss the top of his head and snuggle against him, tightly holding him close as you try to convey the truth in your words through your body. "Never."

"Really?" He looks up at you with sparkly sweet eyes, sensitive and wavering.

"Yes Hannie, would never leave you. You're irreplaceable to me, I love you."

He gasps, even though there's no evidence you mean it any way but platonically, he is taken off guard by the fact that you have never said those words to him in a format that wasn't a joke. For once he chooses not to overthink it, no matter how you mean it, he's happy.

He smiles brightly at you, the child like grin you've grown to love returning. "I love you too y/n"

You smile at him softly before pulling him back down into your chest, there you both fall asleep for the night. You, naked except for your panties under the blanket with marks littering various parts of your skin and him, almost fully clothed wrapped up tightly in your arms as if maybe you could shield him from every hardship of the world with your arms alone.

Stray Kids Masterlist

Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world

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