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cherry-leclerc · 22 days

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million dollar man ☆ toto wolff

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

word count: 16.5k

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

nsfw warning under the cut!

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

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You up for Vegas?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly why.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yayo.

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

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

Let me put on a show for you, daddy.

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

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

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

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

Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”

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

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

“Where do you want me?”

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

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

“Oh, right. Um…”

You grin. “First time?”

He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”

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

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

“It fucking sucks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

Tap tap.

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

"Warten! Warten!"

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”

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

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

He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”

“Authentic. How’d you get it?”

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

“Let’s just leave it at old.”

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

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always am.”

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

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

“I wanted to see you.”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”

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

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

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I take you home?”

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

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

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

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

“6’5.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not acting like a child—”

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

“But my things—”

“I’ll send for them.”

“My downpayment—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”

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

“Of course. Take care, Toto.”

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

“You look tired.”

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

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

“See what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do mind. I mind a lot.”

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

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

“Wanna feel something nice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a dumb question.”

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

“No.”

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

“Tempting, but still no.”

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

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

“He said yes.”

“The car talks now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m being serious.”

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

“I would take you—”

“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”

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

“Are you fucking with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Very.”

“Actually, I am too.”

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

“Is money the issue here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp. “Are you insane?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it that obvious?”

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

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

“Do you need something?”

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

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

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

“What did you do?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

He sighs. “Please do.”

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

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

“He what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasp. “I would murder him.”

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

“Nope.”

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

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

You’re going to miss me, watch.

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit.”

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

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

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

“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not lying—”

“Really?”

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

“I never saw anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

“What else did she say?”

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

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

“I swear that’s all.”

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

“I’m not telling you.”

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

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

“Who did this to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

“What, sweetheart?”

Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll walk you through it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips curl. “No idea.”

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

“Are you on birth control?”

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

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

Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”

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

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

“There it is.”

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

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

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

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

“Toto, Toto, Toto—”

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

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

“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.”

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

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

“I love you, Toto Wolff.”

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

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

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

“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d be a fool to deny.

So, you accept.

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

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

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

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

“I’m not quitting.”

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

More heavy silence. “Sure.”

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

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

“I’m taking the car. See you later.”

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

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

We should think about Jack.

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

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Great! Where is she?”

“Around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this is strange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he deserves it…you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Toto Wolff was just the same.

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

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

You’re screwed up and brilliant.

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

Look like a million dollar man.

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

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

So why is my heart broke?

“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

931 notes · View notes

sunnymoonxx · 11 months

Note

can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷

cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader

pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: porn without a plot

warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing

author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333

I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333

m.list

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.

The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.

You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.

"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.

"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.

"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.

"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.

"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.

Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.

"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.

You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.

Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.

"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.

"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.

"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.

As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.

You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.

"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.

You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.

"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.

"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.

"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.

"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.

"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.

"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.

"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.

“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.

“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.

Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.

Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.

“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.

“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.

Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.

“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.

“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.

"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.

"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,

"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.

"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.

"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.

"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.

You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.

"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.

"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #into the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #smut #spiderman itsv #hobie brown atsv #atsv x reader

3K notes · View notes

vivid-ink · 8 months

Text

'The Love Shack'

Part III - Blurring Lines

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Part III Summary:

You've spent weeks now, meeting with Neteyam & Lo'ak at the old outpost to play... You enjoy them both, but your feelings for Neteyam are becoming harder to ignore. And unbeknownst to you, Neteyam is finding it difficult to share you too... He wants you all to himself, away from his brother and away from other prying eyes...

Read Part I - The Proposition HERE

Read Part II - Three is a Perfect Crowd HERE

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Word count: 12.9k

Content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal fingering

Author's Note:

Greetings my lovely thirsty peeps! Here is Part III. The narrative is getting more emotional/angsty now too with all those secretly repressed feelings. But I hope ya'll still brought your 'thirst-gear' along because you'll need it towards the end of this part. Enjoy, my lovelies! 😘

Taglist: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @clairevoyancee @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt @slutforderekhale @swaggygurlbae @c-h-i-l @justonesadlonelymoth @itchaboi-itchyboy @ntymavtr

Note: A reminder that I don't use the term 'Y/N' so the reader's name in this is 'Neyomi'. The name is not used often, only when stylistically required.

***~~~***

You were doing a commendable job of maintaining the status quo during the daytimes, Neteyam had to admit. Calm and collected, your face ever inscrutable, nothing in your behaviour betrayed any trace of the clandestine contract you’d entered into with him and Lo’ak.

For many weeks now you’d stolen away once a week to the old outpost for your private ménage à trois with him and his brother, where you would very successfully abandon all your inhibitions and fall prey to their various ministrations. You would tangle with them both, giving and receiving pleasure until you were limp and mewling like a milk-gorged kitten. But come daybreak, when you fell in with the rest of the warriors for the morning briefing, there was no hint of the carnal nights you shared with them, not even the barest acknowledgement.

Unlike the other women, there were no demure glances or hushed giggles from you. You were purely professional.

You were so good at it that the morning after the very first night, when Neteyam had received nothing more from you than the usual dip of your head and a steady ‘good morning sir’, he’d believed for several surreal moments that he’d dreamt up the nirvana of the previous night. That is, until Lo’ak had looked from you to him and flashed him a wayward smirk that spoke of his own amusement at your cool behaviour.

Lo’ak had made it his life’s mission then to try to goad a reaction from you in public. However, you remained stoic, even pulling rank on him several times to make him behave during hunts and patrols. Then you’d threatened him on your second visit to the outpost with a firm warning that if he couldn’t keep what happened in the outpost at the outpost, that you’d end the arrangement and never return.

That had nipped Lo’ak’s jibing in the bud immediately. Your behaviour had remained a fascinating contradiction ever since. Aloof during the days, but a wanton little plaything during your nights with them…

To anyone else, you were just as you always were. Hell, Neteyam didn’t even know if you’d told your best friend, Tula… Tula certainly didn’t appear to know, based on the fact that she often told him and Lo’ak during group visits that she was still trying to convince you to come along. There had not been a single crack in your façade.

Until today.

It had been almost imperceptible, but Neteyam had caught it straight away: The clench of your jaw and the tight swallow that bobbed down your slender throat in reaction to the other woman’s words. You turned away, busying yourself with your own pa’li.

“What do you say, warrior? Tonight?” Silwey’s coquettish voice crooned beside him. Her warm palm smoothed in a slow slide up his arm to squeeze at his bicep while she pressed her side provocatively up against him.

Neteyam chuckled, undoing the ties and buckles of his pa’li’s saddle. It was a very bold move by a woman to be making such an uninhibited suggestion in such a communal setting as the pa’li pen, especially to the future olo’eyktan, but he had history with Silwey.

“It’s been a long day,” Neteyam muttered indecisively with a cock of his head, “Aren’t you tired?”

Silwey scoffed and bumped her hip against his, “Not too tired. Besides, we know stamina isn’t an issue for you.”

Though your back was turned to them as you attended to your own direhorse, Neteyam could hear your fingers working with the buckles of your own saddle. It wasn’t the usual slow and composed clink and slide of fabric against metal. It sounded like your fingers were fumbling testily with the material, the buckles rattling noisily.

A corner of his lips quirked upward. You were not so unbothered after all, it seemed…

Neteyam enjoyed the group liaisons at the old outpost, but it was true what the whispers said. He mostly liked to watch and maybe join in with his hands, lips and tongue, but it wasn’t often that he had sex with someone. He was selective like that and he didn’t like to share his playmates. He left the playboy behaviour to Lo’ak, who was more than happy to indulge the women in full use of his body.

There were only a few exceptions for Neteyam, over whom he tended to be fairly possessive. Silwey was one of them, as were you…

When Neteyam’s lack of response dragged on for several seconds longer than she liked, Silwey stroked a brazen hand over his chest and her voice turned husky to cajole him, “Come on, Neteyam. It was fun last time when it was just you and me, away from any audience.”

A muffled curse and a dull thud sounded as you dropped something.

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam saw you quickly stoop to pick up what you’d dropped before you shot upright again, proceeding to stride away in the next moment. You appeared very eager to get away before you had to endure any more of his exchange with Silwey.

Turning his full attention to the waiting female at his side, Neteyam regarded Silwey with apologetic eyes, “Can we take a raincheck on this? I’m quite sore after today’s patrol.”

Disappointment coloured Silwey’s expression and she pouted slightly, “Alright. Well you know where to find me if you change your mind.” She shot him a seductive wink and turned to leave with a deliberate sashay of her hips.

Silwey was an incredibly beautiful woman. A warrior too, her physique was lithe with toned muscle and shapely in all the right places. Her face was similarly pleasing. However, there was an air of conceitedness about her and she liked to be in control in matters of sensual play. Neteyam had found her sexual confidence extremely appealing at first, and he’d enjoyed grappling for dominance with her during their liaisons, but his encounters with her lacked a certain sincerity of connection.

Especially after their one private evening together away from the outpost, it was becoming clear to Neteyam that what Silwey appeared to enjoy most about being with him was being in control of him. She relished dominating him. She wasn’t fond of that role being reversed though and so she never submitted fully to him at any point in return.

She certainly didn’t surrender or abandon herself as wholly as you did when you were with him… And the complete and utter vulnerability you displayed was what really made Neteyam’s blood heat with lust.

Neteyam watched your retreating figure in the distance. He noted the darker cobalt of the stripes that lined your thighs and remembered the smooth feel of them beneath his lips. He watched as the long strides of your legs made your hips sway, accentuating the luscious curves of your pert bottom as you walked. He couldn’t see your face now, but his brain supplied a lusty memory of your beautiful face contorted in bliss, lips parted and mouth slack as you moaned beneath him.

He wasn’t keen on a private evening away with Silwey, but you… You were a different story. His mind yearned and his body ached to get you alone. You, he wouldn’t mind sequestering away somewhere all to himself without having to share you with anyone.

“I know that look.” Lo’ak sauntered up to him, adjusting his bow which he’d slung across his torso. “It’s the look of someone who’s been offered a sweet treat, but not of the flavour they’re craving.”

Walking to return his pa’li’s saddle to the storage rack, Neteyam cast his brother a wry grin over his shoulder, “Yeah well, some of us have a more sophisticated palate, bro.”

“I believe the simple term you’re looking for is ‘fussy’.” Lo’ak countered, giving the whickering direhorse an affectionate stroke of farewell down its muzzle before jogging to catch up with Neteyam.

A group of young fisherwomen passed them, twittering with bashful hands over their mouths. Lo’ak addressed them with a wink and blew them a kiss. He crowed at his older brother, “And the good thing about not being fussy is that you always eat well.”

Chortling at his brother’s flirtatious conduct, Neteyam rolled his eyes, “And the bad thing about people who aren’t fussy is that they’re often also greedy.”

“Ahh, I see. You want me to be a bit less involved next time Neyomi comes round, do you? I’ll just warm her up for you, eh?” Lo’ak waggled his eyebrows and jabbed his elbow several times into his brother’s ribs, “Then I’ll just kick back and watch, because by Eywa, she’s so beautiful when she comes undone.”

Neteyam couldn’t suppress the grunt of displeasure that left him at his brother’s words. He didn’t even want Lo’ak looking at you, if he was honest… He wanted you all to himself. He wanted your kisses to grace his lips only. He wanted the forbidden taste of your sweet flesh tantalising his tongue and no one else’s, and he wanted the sight of your writhing body for his eyes and his eyes alone.

“How about you just sit out entirely?” Neteyam spat with a jeer, though there was a jesting undertone to his voice.

Lo’ak hooted with laughter and blew a low whistle out on his next exhale. He clucked his tongue and shook his head, “Nope, no can do, bro. I’m going to change the name of the outpost from ‘The Love Shack’ to ‘The Sharing Shack’. Sharing is caring and those who won’t share aren’t welcome.”

The brothers were closing in on their family’s shelter now and they were careful to lower their voices. The last thing they needed was for their father or, Eywa forbid, their mother to discover their libidinous evening activities. Although, people loved to chin-wag and it seemed unlikely that their father hadn’t at least heard rumours. Perhaps their father was just closing a blind eye to things…

“Just because I don’t like to share, doesn’t mean I won’t. I know she enjoys playing with you too.” Neteyam muttered peevishly, narrowing his eyes and fixing Lo’ak with a pointed look.

Lo’ak smirked at his brother through keen amber eyes, “You just want a little bit on the side for yourself. You’ve got it bad for her.” At Neteyam’s scowl, Lo’ak snickered and aimed another playful sock at him, “It’s alright, I got you, bro.”

***~~~***

A droning hum of voices infused the atmosphere around you while the gathered clan members filled their bellies and socialised over a shared evening meal. The radiant heat of the communal bonfire was usually a welcome sensation against your skin as it provided a soothing contrast to the chill of the evening air. However, the warmth of the fire prickled irritatingly against you tonight.

You were in a cantankerous mood and you struggled to get comfortable, either feeling too hot closer to the fire or too cold if you moved farther away from it. Your sour disposition had put a damper on your appetite too, and you picked grouchily at the mixture of grains, roasted vegetables and morsels of sturmbeest meat on your food mat in front of you.

It was your arrow that had felled the fat sturmbeest cow for tonight’s meal. Ordinarily you’d be beaming with pride, but tonight you just wanted to sulk. It was immature and petty of you - plus you knew you also had no real right - but you wanted to wallow in your crankiness.

And it was all thanks to Silwey.

You’d never had anything against the other young woman. In fact, she was a well-respected hunter and you’d partnered with her very successfully on several occasions. She was confident, skilled and friendly enough. There was literally no reason for you to hold any animosity towards Silwey and the only reason you felt this way now was because you’d overheard her proposition to Neteyam.

He’s not yours… Your conscience warned. The arrangement you have with him and Lo’ak is purely physical…

But the knowledge that Silwey had been with Neteyam privately on her own was a thorn in your side, and you felt viscid, green envy roil in the pit of your stomach. You knew Neteyam was selective of the women he took fully as lovers. The gossiping murmurs amongst the other women about this fact was evidence of this, and Neteyam had even told you so himself. So, he must have taken a keen enough liking to Silwey to have sought her out on her own in the past.

You felt your already black mood turn even blacker.

Tula nudged your side with an elbow, forcing you from your critical thoughts, “Your face looks like a thunder cloud. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sister.” You fibbed, refusing to meet her eyes.

This was another undesired consequence of your secret arrangement with the two Sully brothers. You and Tula had been joined at the hip since childhood and you never kept secrets from each other, but now you did. Part of it was your stubborn pride at not wanting to admit to your best friend that you had caved in the end and succumbed to the brothers’ charms. Another part was you selfishly wanting to keep your exclusive arrangement with Neteyam and Lo’ak under wraps.

No one else had their own dedicated evening alone with the brothers. All the other women participated in the weekly group sessions with whoever else that went along. And for the last several weeks you’d felt privileged, special even, especially knowing that Neteyam didn’t just fuck any and every woman that came across his path. But your newfound discovery about his solo tryst with Silwey was upsetting.

“I know you’re lying.” Tula pressed, uncrossing her legs where she was seated to shuffle in front of you, “I know you like the back of my own hand and you can’t fool me.”

Chewing on your bottom lip while a furrow pulled a deep knit between your brows, you groused, “Wasn’t trying to fool you, but it doesn’t mean I want to talk about it either.”

A sigh huffed out of Tula and she took your fidgeting hands in hers, “Ok, but it’s nothing bad, right? Like, it’s not serious? You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”

The concern in your friend’s voice was touching and your ears pricked upward, your eyes following suit to look at Tula. With a discomfited laugh you shook your head, “No, it’s not anything serious. It really is nothing, actually. It’s dumb and you don’t need to worry.”

Tula tried one last time, “If it’s dumb then you can definitely tell me.”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Your words were firm and your tone unyielding.

Sensing that you wouldn’t budge, Tula relented, “Alright. Well if you’re not going to eat anymore of that food then we might as well make a move. Come back to mine and I’ll rub your shoulders and re-braid your hair? You look like some tender loving care might lift your mood.”

Rolling your shoulders and testing the sore muscles, you knew that one of Tula’s wonderful massages would help, but your pride obstinately insisted on licking its petty wounds and so you declined. “Thanks, but I’m tired and I’m just going to wash and call it a night.”

Shooting you a dubious expression, Tula gave a weary sigh and leant forward to buss your cheek with a kiss, “Ok, goodnight sister, sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your murmured your own farewell and watched as your friend left the gathered throng of people. Deciding it best for you to get going too, you looked at the bits and bobs of your remaining dinner. Not wanting to feel like an ingrate for wasting good food, you gathered what was left and ate it all. Gingerly rolling the food mat up, you got up and tucked it into the washing basket with a brief smile of thanks at the people who were on cleaning duty tonight.

You passed a cluster of warrior women on your way out and they called out their ‘goodnights’ to you. You noted that Silwey wasn’t among them and your brain unhelpfully supplied the bitter thought that she was likely off frolicking with Neteyam.

Your shoulders ached and you rolled them again with a grimace as you slowly ambled your way back towards the clan’s assemblage of home shelters that were scattered among the upper boughs and branches of the large woodland trees. The air was chilly and only the soft chirruping of nightlife accompanied you as you walked onward. Your plan was to head to the bathing springs, wash the grime of the day away, and then settle down to sleep with the hope that your mind wouldn’t keep you awake with agonising musings of what Neteyam and Silwey were doing.

Your ears twitched then, swivelling backward at the dull sound of thudding footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Sore, are you?” Lo’ak queried, stopping to stand at your side. He grinned when you turned to acknowledge him, the whites of his teeth glinting in the dim moonlight.

“That talioang cow was a heavy haul to bring in, so yes, my shoulder and back muscles are making their complaints known.” You didn’t need to look around him or over his shoulder to see that his older brother was not with him.

“It was a good kill. The clan thanks you for your service.” Lo’ak cocked his head to the side, regarding you with his signature smirk, “Can I help make you feel better? I’m happy to give you a nice rub down. You know, ease all that tension from your body.”

You barked out a laugh and threw him a cynical look, “Why do I get the sense that your rub down will end up more like a hump down?”

Lo’ak’s grin turned naughty and he snickered, “Hey, if that’s what you want, sweet thing, I won’t say no.”

You contemplated his offer, really thought about it. He was still wearing his cummerbund around his torso and you took a moment to enjoy the way it hugged his abdomen like a second skin, framing his ribs and accentuating the narrowing of his hips nicely. Your eyes dipped to the dark green loincloth that hung from his hips and a part of you was tempted. You knew, intimately, what hid behind that loincloth and you knew that the experience would be pleasurable if you spent the evening with Lo’ak. But when you closed your eyes and pictured yourself kissing him, it was Neteyam’s face that swam behind your eyelids.

With a quiet exhale you shook your head, “Thanks, but no thanks. I turned down Tula’s offer of a shoulder rub just now too.”

Lo’ak’s tail was swishing in a slow arc behind him and he was watching you intently. A toothy smile played across his lips and you sensed a cheeky jab on the horizon, “It’s OK, I get it. Wrong brother asking.”

Irritation flashed through you at his comment. You were really starting to hate the way he kept calling you out like that. It was difficult enough having to confront your own feelings, but it was much worse when someone else pointed them out.

You snapped at Lo’ak, “You need to stop that. If you will recall, I quite happily enjoy both of you during our get-togethers, so it wouldn’t make a difference who asks. I just want to bathe and head home tonight.”

Great Mother, you were turning into a such a liar… you would have accepted without hesitation if the offer had come from Neteyam…

“Alright, alright, I’m just teasing. I’ve genuinely got a suggestion that might help though.”

You raised a doubtful brow at him, your silence urging him to continue.

“There’s a small hot spring near my family’s home shelter. It’s in a secluded area behind it, away from the main village pathway.” Lo’ak broached genially, “The water’s warm and it’s great for soothing sore muscles. You’re welcome to bathe there if you want?”

“You have a private hot spring?” You queried in astonishment. There were a few hot springs in the nearby woodlands, but they were communal and there were often other people there. Having a private one so close to home was a real indulgence.

“Perks of being in the olo’eyktan’s family.” Lo’ak gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, “My parents picked that spot to build our family’s shelter at because of it.”

A hot soak and bath sounded absolutely divine, and a private spring meant you’d have some peace and quiet to yourself too. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be using it if it’s just meant for your family.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ve had friends over before and my parents are out tonight anyway. Come on, I’ll take you there.”

Enticed by the promise of the hot spring, you readily followed Lo’ak. You were familiar with where the Sullys’ home was, but as he led you round behind it, you glimpsed a mossy pathway that led down between the verdant flora towards a formation of rocks. Sure enough, you could see there was a pool in the formation’s centre, partially obscured by the taller rocks surrounding it.

The environment became humid as you approached the mouth of the spring, the hot water sending small plumes of steam into the air. You breathed out a sigh of wonderment at the sight before you. It was actually bigger than you’d initially thought.

The hot spring was surrounded on most sides by the high rocks, giving the space a lovely sense of seclusion. There was another set of tall boulders that parted the spring down the middle too and, though you couldn’t see it from where you were, you presumed it would lead to another part of the spring round the corner. On the adjacent side from where you stood, there was a bank with a bed of plush, bioluminescent moss. It looked like the perfect place to just sit and dip your feet in if that’s all one wanted to do.

You beamed at Lo’ak appreciatively, “This is lovely, thank you.”

“There are some bath and cleansing oils in a little basket over there on the bank. My sisters are morning bathers so they won’t be needing the spring now. You can enjoy your privacy.” Lo’ak stated with a smile, followed by a muted titter which he tried to disguise rather poorly as a cough.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

He waved you off, turning around and beginning to make his way back up the path, “No, it’s nothing.”

Arms akimbo as you watched him leave, you hissed, “You’re being weird. There better not be any nasty surprises in there!”

Lo’ak scoffed, stopping in his tracks to look at you, “No, of course not.” Although there was still that telltale mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you didn’t altogether trust. He shook his head at your apparent doubt and he gestured towards the steaming spring, “You’re safe here, don’t worry. There are no strangers here.”

With a reassuring smile, Lo’ak left you to it and carried on up the distance of the path until you saw him disappear into his family’s shelter.

Left alone now, you peered out into the darkness of the hot spring before you. The higher temperature of the water meant that not much lived in and around the spring. There were no fish or florae that dwelled beneath the water’s surface and apart from the gentle glow of the moss and phosphorescent lianas that lined the rocks, there wasn’t much light at all.

Stepping forward slowly, you let the warm water of the spring greet your toes, which wriggled and curled in delight at the soothing heat. You smiled a small smile to yourself, very much looking forward to your impending hot bath. You unclothed yourself, shimmying out of your chest-covering and loincloth before folding the garments neatly and stepping to the side to drape them over a boulder. You paused then when you noticed another folded loincloth tucked against the rocks.

Odd… Lo’ak had reassured you that no one was here…

Shrugging lightly, you supposed another of the family had left it behind earlier in the day and thought nothing more of it, eager to immerse yourself in the steaming spring that beckoned. With small steps, you submerged yourself little by little, sighing as the blissful warmth of the spring water enveloped your knees, thighs, hips and navel until you reached maximum depth and it pooled just under the rounds of your breasts.

Oh, by Eywa, the temperature was perfect. The water was hot but not too hot as to be uncomfortable and you could already feel it easing the tightness in your leg muscles. Wading through the dark water towards the basket of bath oils on the bank, you gingerly picked through several vessels, uncapping them and giving each one a sniff as you tried to decide which you liked best. They all smelled wonderful, some fruity, some floral and all a luxurious treat for the skin and senses.

A very familiar scent wafted to your nose when you uncapped the last vessel; spicy and nutty, with a hint of the woodland trees. You recognised it immediately. Neteyam. This was the bath oil he used regularly. Your mind was made up in that instant, selection made.

Bending your knees, you submerged yourself to your chin to wet your body all over, before gracefully lifting yourself out of the water to perch on the mossy bank so you could rub the oil into your skin. The oil was wonderfully fragrant and glossy on your wet skin as you massaged it over your arms, torso, breasts, tail and legs. A contented moan bubbled up your throat and you giggled to yourself, smoothing the oil up your neck and then over your face too.

Oh, it smelled so good and it reminded you so much of Neteyam…

Something sharp pricked in your chest when your conscience reminded you that he was off in the company of Silwey tonight, and you sniffed sullenly before you mentally chastised yourself. You resolved to put it out of your mind and just be grateful for this wonderful hot spring. The scent of the oil tickled your nostrils again, bringing with it more unbidden thoughts of Neteyam. Perhaps choosing the oil he used wasn’t the smartest idea after all... You’d go to bed smelling like him tonight and it was just going to keep reminding you of him.

Satisfied with your efforts of smoothing the bath oil all over yourself, you slipped off the mossy bank back into the warm water to soak. Your tightly braided cornrows wouldn’t need a proper wash for another few days yet, so you cupped water in your hands and dribbled it over your head to give your hair a simple rinse. Gingerly, you washed your face in a similar fashion, moaning quietly in enjoyment.

So absorbed were you in relishing your bath that you failed to notice the glowing pair of eyes watching you soundlessly through the steam from around the corner of tall boulders in the spring.

Your voyeur smirked to himself. He was surprised to find you here. He was going to have to thank his brother later…

Deciding he’d done enough covert watching, Neteyam carefully shifted off his rocky perch beneath the water to submerge himself further. His moral scruples censured him that continuing to watch you bathe naked when you were unaware of his presence was wrong. He resolved to make himself known, but he was going to have some fun doing it.

The buoyancy in the water made it easy for you to rest with your knees bent to keep yourself submerged to your chin. You continued to run your hands over yourself underwater, cleaning yourself while you soaked. You hummed an old folk tune that your mother used to sing to you as a child, and you closed your eyes, basking in the peace of your surroundings. But your serenity was unexpectedly disrupted when you felt something ripple past your legs underwater.

You stilled and bolted upright to full height. There was something in the water…

Your thoughts rushed back to earlier when you’d been suspicious of Lo’ak’s snickering. He’d reassured you that there was no danger here and you knew, logically, that nothing lived in the waters of a hot spring, and yet, something had definitely moved past the backs of your legs underwater.

Heart beginning to race in your chest, you turned in a slow arc, scanning the murky water with wide eyes. The water was so black you could hardly see your own body past your hips. The steam was suddenly stifling and you licked your lips, swallowing down your rising anxiety.

With an almighty splash, something burst upward through the surface of the water behind you with a roar and an alarmed screech forced itself from your throat. You whirled around to face a looming figure, your chest heaving in fright. However, the loud roar the figure had emitted had morphed now into deep rumbles of laughter and you came face-to-face with a dripping wet Neteyam.

“You skxawng!” You shrieked in indignation, aiming several good splashes of water at him with your hands.

Neteyam’s mirth still had a firm grip over him and his rumbling laughter continued to reverberate around the rocky spring. Your fit of pique was quickly deflating in the face of his amusement as you watched him clutch at his sides, gasping for breath, his handsome face full of his merriment. The sound of his laughter was infectious and though you continued to cuss at him, your own voice was tremulous with your own laughter now.

“Great Mother, all these years we’ve hunted and patrolled together, facing packs of nantang (viperwolves) and palulukan (thanators) and not once have you ever screamed like that!” Neteyam hooted.

“Shut up, kurkung (asshole)! You gave me a huge scare!” You splashed him again and added a hard shove against his chest for good measure.

Neteyam caught your wrists and proceeded to mock scold you, “Hey, name-calling and physically assaulting your superior officer is the height of disrespect and insubordination.”

Wrenching your wrists free of his grasp, you ground out through your teeth, “Forgive me, sir, but you rudely interrupted my bath and nearly sent my soul to Eywa with your ambush.”

Flushed from your fright and suddenly feeling self-conscious, you folded your arms across your breasts. It was stupid really considering Neteyam had already seen all of you and more before.

Your eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness now and you could see little rivulets of water cascading down his face from his wet hair. Droplets of water clung to the skin of his neck and chest, and his bioluminescent tanhì glimmered against his moist skin. The deep gold of his eyes were bright in lack of light and you forced yourself to look away, afraid you might drown in the mesmerising depths of them if you looked for too long.

Neteyam gave a quiet chuckle and he tilted his head downward to catch your downcast eyes, “Did I interrupt your bath or did you interrupt mine?”

You sucked in an astonished breath, remembering the other folded loincloth you’d seen on the rocks by the mouth of the hot spring. Confusion swirled in your mind and you shook your head, “Lo’ak told me there was no one here.”

Another rough chuckle, “No, he said there were no strangers here.”

Neteyam watched as you attempted to make sense of the situation. He’d already been in the hot spring when Lo’ak had led you here. He’d been partially hidden from your sight around the corner of the boulders in the middle of the pool, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice him through the steam.

“Maybe Lo’ak didn’t realise you were here.”

“Oh paskalin (sweet berry), he definitely knew I was here.”

Neteyam’s voice was low and husky, and the raspy sound rippled over you, sending warm tingles throughout you to your fingers, toes and other more private places. You looked to his face again and found him still watching you. A small grin played on his lips, his eyes gleamed with mischief and his ears were upright, fully focused on you.

The recollection of Silwey’s proposition to him earlier in the day resurfaced in your thoughts and you felt your mood sour again. He was probably freshening up before his play date…

You decided to leave him to it, trying your best to keep the sour taste in your mouth from bleeding into your tone, “Well, I’m sorry sir, for intruding on your bath. I’ll go now so you can finish up. I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be, you know, someone waiting for you.”

Neteyam watched as you turned to leave, wading slowly through the spring towards its exit. He shook his head at your repeated address of him as ‘sir’ and he chortled under his breath. Your words were coolly said, but he didn’t miss the slight edge to them, especially when you referred to someone waiting for him. You were annoyed and he was fairly certain of the reason why. He knew you’d overheard part of his conversation with Silwey earlier today. Well, two could play this game of rank…

“Wait, tsamsiyu (warrior).”

You stopped in your tracks at the formal address. Neteyam’s tone was suddenly firm, the same one he used during your work days and instinct made you turn to face him again, “Sir?”

He began to advance towards you, his movement creating ripples in the spring’s surface at his approach. He stopped once there was a scant foot of space between you and his greater height forced your head to tilt back to maintain your eye contact with him.

“Just where do you think I’m meant to be right now at this hour? And who are you implying is waiting for me?” His question was a murmur, but his tone was still formal and there was a note of challenge in it.

Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you replied, “I just meant that you’re a busy man and I shouldn’t hold you up.”

“Bullshit. Speak plainly.”

You were bewildered by Neteyam’s brusque response. Your eyes fell away from his and you shrank a little under the weight of his authority. He was pulling rank on you and questioning you. Perhaps your earlier remark hadn’t been as measured as you thought and your attitude had bled through. Unnerved, you wondered if you’d offended him.

Fortifying yourself through your increasing discomfort, you inhaled deeply and spoke, “What you choose to do in your time, and who you spend it with, is none of my concern. I apologise if I overstepped and misspoke. Permission to be dismissed, sir?”

“No.”

Shock lanced through you and you gasped. You’d expected your polite request for dismissal to be granted, but Neteyam had denied it outright. Unsure how to respond, your eyes mechanically found his face again and another wave of surprise rippled through you when you found him smirking at you.

Soft lines wrinkled your forehead as you frowned at him in puzzlement. When his smirk turned into a full-blown grin, you clicked and you realised he was toying with you. Your ears flattened in irritation and your lips pressed into a thin line. You adjusted your arms, crossing them even tighter across your naked chest, “You’re making fun of me.”

Neteyam’s expression softened and turned placating. He cocked his head at you, “You started this rank game. I was just playing along.”

You weren’t in the mood to banter with him right now. You just wanted to get out of there because every moment more that you spent in Neteyam’s presence was a reminder that he would soon be trotting off into Silwey’s arms for the night. Something he was entirely in his right to do… your conscience reminded again. It did nothing to soothe your bother.

“Right, well I’m going now.” You huffed, turning to continue making your departure.

“You don’t have to go. Stay.”

“No, I interrupted your bath. So, I’ll go.” You snapped.

“I was almost done. You only just got here. Really, you should stay. I’d best be off anyway-”

“Actually yes, why don’t you go?” You interrupted him, whirling around to face him. Your abrupt movement sent a torrent of warm water splashing onto the hot spring’s entryway behind you. He’d best be off indeed! It wouldn’t be polite to keep his playmate waiting… He would leave and you could stay to soak in the spring, and wallow some more in your stupid self-pity...

Your irritation flared and your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Better not keep Silwey waiting.”

A smug grin and chuckle was Neteyam’s answer to your remark and his response only aggravated you further.

There was an accompanying pinprick of hurt in your chest this time. Great Mother, was he still toying with you?... Was he rubbing it in that he was seeing someone exclusively tonight?... But why would he do that? You’d never known Neteyam to be unkind… And he didn’t even know how you felt… Or did he?

“You’re adorable when you’re upset.” Neteyam said, approaching you and closing the distance between the both of you once more.

“I’m not upset.” You feigned and you turned defiant eyes up at him when he stopped in front of you.

The water was shallower here near mouth of the hot spring. Where it had pooled beneath your breasts earlier, it now encircled your torso level with the tops of your hips. As Neteyam was taller, the waterline sat dangerously low on his pelvis and you kept your gaze firmly rooted on his face to curb the temptation to look down.

“Lying to your commanding officer is also a form of insubordination.”

By Eywa, you were tiring of this game... Why wouldn’t he just leave to go and meet Silwey already?

A scathing snort left you and you turned to continue your departure, “You’re not the boss of me outside of our work hours.”

Neteyam stopped you with a hand around your upper arm, “No, but I do like it when you call me ‘sir’. It has a certain ring to it that I’ve discovered I enjoy even outside our work hours.” His grip wasn’t loose but it wasn’t bruising either, just firm enough to impede your attempt to leave.

Still unwilling to uncross your arms from around your chest, you snarled at him in warning, “Let me go. I’m sure Silwey would be more than happy to indulge you in your little game. You are her commanding officer too, after all.”

“I’m not meeting Silwey tonight.”

A beat of silence passed as you took in Neteyam’s words, “What?”

Strong arms enveloped you in the next moment and you found yourself being dragged backwards into the deeper water of the hot spring. Wrapped in his embrace with your back crushed to his chest, Neteyam murmured by your ear, “I turned down her offer.”

You squirmed a little in the cage of his hold. One of his arms was wrapped around your shoulders while the other was snaked around your waist; you were well and truly trapped against him. You knew you were no match for his strength and the feminine part of you appreciated that fact. It revelled in how dainty you felt against his bigger frame.

You were unable to stem your curiosity and you questioned his decision, snapping at him, “Why? You obviously like her enough to have met her privately in the past.”

Neteyam took a breath and then exhaled, “The sex is good, but there’s no connection there. It’s physical and nothing else. Besides, it’s not Silwey’s company I find myself craving these days.” He gave a gravelly chuckle and you felt it rumble against your back. His voice turned teasing, “I knew you were eavesdropping, paskalin.”

It was an awkward angle but you craned your neck sideways to scowl at him, “Well, she wasn’t exactly quiet about it. She might as well have made an announcement before the entire clan.”

“And her offer upset you.”

Another fibbing refute was on the tip of your tongue when you stopped yourself. He’d already called you out before for being untruthful. He knew you were upset. No point trying to lie your way out of it.

Ever since you’d entered into this arrangement with Neteyam and Lo’ak, your feelings for Neteyam had become more and more difficult to ignore. Your play dates with the brothers were just physical entertainment and nothing more. Or at least, they were supposed to be… But the lines were now blurring horribly between physical and emotional, and your tetchy behaviour this evening was cold, hard evidence of this.

“I don’t like knowing that other women have you too.” Your admission was sulky and muttered so quietly that you weren’t sure if Neteyam even heard you, “When it’s just the three of us at the shack, I can just ignore everything else and pretend otherwise.”

“My, my, possessive are we?” His cocky remark rubbed you the wrong way.

You’d opened up in a moment of vulnerability and his tongue-in-cheek attitude made you feel like he was making fun of you again. With a renewed surge of annoyance, you twisted fiercely in his hold and he released you.

You spun to face him, arms still wrapped around yourself, “Didn’t you say you’d best be off? Fine, you’re not seeing Silwey tonight, but you’ve clearly got somewhere to be, so why don’t you just go so I can have some peace here?”

Neteyam wanted to make a smart quip about you kicking him out of his own family’s hot spring, but decided against it when he saw the glinting hurt in your eyes that you were trying and failing to conceal from him. He held his hands out of the water to show them to you, “What I meant was that I might as well be the one to leave seeing as my skin is getting wrinkly. I don’t actually have anywhere to be.”

“Oh.” Your voice was small.

“Do you want some time to yourself?” Was that a hint of regret you heard in his voice?

Neteyam didn’t want to leave you, if he was truthful. He’d spent the last few weeks waiting for an opportunity to get you alone, dithering in his decision around whether to just ask you outright. He’d been hesitant because he didn’t want to ruin the good thing they had going. He didn’t know whether you were content to just play with him and Lo’ak, and he was afraid that seeking you out on your own might be too close for comfort for you.

The realisation this afternoon that you were annoyed by Silwey’s advances on him was a real stroke to his ego, and he’d teased you about it. However, he comprehended now that his attempt at banter had backfired on him as you appeared more upset than he’d initially thought. Lo’ak had handed him an opportunity tonight, but he may have just blown it…

You fidgeted, your fingers squeezing your upper arms where they were wrapped around you while you deliberated your answer. Eywa, you didn’t want time to yourself if the alternative was a chance at time alone with Neteyam…

You had a chance here to indulge the tender feelings you had for him. You knew it was a dangerous game to play. He was the future olo’eyktan and he would one day mate a woman fit to be tsahìk. That would not be you. You were a warrior, like he was. Neteyam would never be yours and it was stupid to risk your heart for a chance at knowing him like this.

But you were always foolish when it came to him…

“No, you can stay.” You mumbled meekly, “If you want to, that is.”

A tight twinge scorched across your left shoulder muscle then and you gasped, straightening your arm to stretch out the cramp that had seized hold of you. You hissed in pain, grimacing in discomfort.

The water sloshed and lapped as Neteyam rushed to you. He took hold of your cramping arm, crossing it over your front, “Here, stretch across like that and hold it. The cramp should ease soon.”

“Ow, ow!” You whined, stretching your arm across as hard as you could to relieve the cramping muscle. You felt Neteyam’s firm fingers begin to press and push at the knot and relief thankfully found you as the muscle relaxed again. You groaned with a sigh, “Ugh that one hurt like a bitch.”

“You’re very tense across your shoulders. Are you really sore?”

“Yes, that’s why Lo’ak suggested I bathe here in the hot spring.”

Neteyam grinned to himself behind your back, continuing to rub and work at your shoulder muscles. He really owed Lo’ak one now… His brother was an excellent wingman… The fact that you were sore had probably been a nice coincidence in Lo’ak’s plan. His brother would have led you to the spring anyway knowing he was already in there.

“I’m sorry if I upset you with my teasing. I wasn’t doing it to be mean.” Neteyam muttered at your back. “If it’s any consolation I’m possessive of you too. I don’t like sharing you, not even with my brother.”

His words made your heart skip a beat and you curled your tail around his lower leg underwater, “I know.”

You knew he wasn’t fond of sharing. You’d seen it in the way he interacted with you and his brother during your play nights at the shack, but hearing him admit it was satisfying.

Encouraged, Neteyam stepped forward to press himself against your back, his hands still massaging at your shoulders. Your skin was silky smooth and slick under his fingers and your bottom was plush against the front of his hips. His cock twitched in interest and he felt desirous heat pool in his groin. Tucking his chin to nuzzle lightly at the crook of your neck, he drew in the sweetness of your scent which had mixed with the spiciness of the bath oil. You smelled like a delicious treat he’d been hankering after…

Growing more and more relaxed from the wonderful shoulder massage Neteyam was giving you, you let your arms drop and float to your sides in the water, uncaring that it exposed your breasts to him. The little sniffs and puffs of his breath as he scented you were ticklish against the skin of your neck and you grinned silently, fighting the urge to shiver. Reaching back a little, you let your hands ghost over the outsides of his thighs, your fingertips dancing against the firm muscle beneath smooth skin. A deep and rumbling purr was Neteyam’s response of delight.

You’d played with Neteyam before, but it was different like this alone in the hot spring and without Lo’ak as a second playmate. Your current ambience was far more intimate. It felt less like physical play and more like a deep, emotive bonding session with a significant other. Your conscience sounded the alarm bells and your heart bolstered its defences.

You could play with him, but under no circumstances could you fall for him…

Clearing your throat lightly, you turned your head a bit so you could look him in the eye to thank him, “Mm, thanks for that. It’s helped. Do you want me to give you a rub too?”

Neteyam wrinkled his nose at you and the action was both endearing and charming. The press and rub of his fingers against your shoulders didn’t stop though. He bit his lower lip and grinned cheekily at you, “Not a shoulder rub, no.”

The innuendo was clear and you rolled your eyes at him with a small snort. He laughed and the sound was soothing and warm. Damn him and his stupidly handsome face… Which you then realised was beginning to lean down ever so slowly towards yours.

The long lashes that framed Neteyam’s eyes fluttered enchantingly as his gaze shifted between your eyes and your lips, “Can I kiss you, paskalin?”

You could never deny him… not when he always sought your permission so sweetly…

Your body was one step ahead of your brain and you craned your neck back to press your lips to his. The fire of your desire ignited, his kiss like fuel to the flames that consumed you and scorched you from head to toe. A throbbing ache struck up a rhythm at the apex of your thighs, your body instantly yearning to be touched and stroked, surrounded by and filled to the brim with him.

Neteyam groaned against your lips, his head twisting and his mouth opening to allow your tongues to waltz. Your hands snaked farther backward to clutch at his buttocks, pulling his hips and the evidence of his arousal flush against your lower back and bottom. He took a breath and hissed at the contact.

The heat of the water against the lower half of your body was a delightful contrast to the cool air against your upper half. You arched your back against Neteyam, pushing your breasts outward, nipples stiffening to peaks as the wafting steam caressed its way past them on its ascent to the sky.

Neteyam’s lips left yours and proceeded to score a heated path down the side of your neck with lapping kisses. Eyes heavy-lidded through your soaring lust, his name was a breathless sigh on your lips, “Neteyam.”

He gave a low growl at the sound of his name, and his massaging hands moved from kneading your shoulders to trail downward over your collarbone, drifting lower until his calloused palms met your hardened nipples. His voice was rough, “I can’t get enough of you. Every evening at the shack just makes me want you more. Do you know how hard it is to have you as my second-in-command when all I want to do during the day is pin you down and have my way with you?”

Your core pulsed and thrilled at his coarse words. You could feel the tingling of your folds, knew that your body was readying itself with warm, slippery wetness to be penetrated to the hilt.

A smart retort surfaced in your mind and you shot him a brazen grin, “I’m sorry, sir.”

The smile that slowly spread across Neteyam’s face at your comment was positively wicked. It was practically a leer. “Obedience and good manners will get you a long way with me, warrior.”

Slick from the bath oil, you leant back against him while he fondled your breasts, his lips nibbling at the soft point of one ear. You’d never realised how sensitive your ears were, but they were definitely an erogenous zone for you. Every nip and kiss to the skin there made your legs weak and your pussy throb. You could feel the solid length and weight of his erection pressing insistently into your lower back like an unspoken invitation to you of the bodily ecstasy it could bring you.

Neteyam verbalised his invitation, nonetheless, in a rumbling purr, “Play with me tonight. Here. Just you and me.”

Your thighs gave an involuntary squeeze together, the ache in your pussy suddenly growing so intense it felt hotter than the water of the spring you currently stood in. You felt Neteyam clasp your jaw with one hand, tilting your head back and twisting your face so he could plunder your mouth again with his lips and tongue. The velvet sweep and suction of his kiss ensured that what little hesitation you had was promptly abandoned.

However, you couldn’t suppress another sassy retort from leaving your lips, “I don’t know. You don’t have any of those sex toys here tonight to rock my world.”

Neteyam bent his knees slightly, bringing his hips in line with your bottom, and he reached down to reposition his cock so it could slide between your thighs and against your slick folds. His chuckle was dark and his voice was full of sensuous promise in the most sinful of ways, “Oh paskalin, you and I both know that I don’t need any of those toys to have you screaming my name tonight.”

You twisted around to face him, throwing your arms around his neck to claim his lips in a desirous kiss. His hands found your upper thighs and he lifted you easily to wrap your legs around his hips, his hands coming to rest against your bottom. He broke the meld of your lips then and he was breathless as he asked, “Is that a yes? I want to hear you say it.”

This new position in his arms found your face elevated over his. Framing his face with your hands, you peered down into the captivating depths of his eyes and panted back at him, “Yes.”

“Yes, who?” Neteyam’s eyes glinted naughtily and you understood the implication. He wanted to continue playing his game of rank with you…

“Yes, sir.”

The warm water rushed around you then in a surge as Neteyam hoisted you higher in his arms and walked you backwards until your back met the tall rocks behind you, pinning you against it. The rock was warm against your back and while its surface was not jagged, it was still coarse enough to be abrade your skin if you moved too roughly against it.

Neteyam nuzzled at the soft mound of one breast, and you emitted a startled gasp when he sealed his mouth over it, drawing your nipple into his hot mouth with a tormenting suck that made you keen in pleasure. He followed this with flicks of his tongue against the stiff bud of it, and your head lolled backward to land with a mildly painful thud against the rock.

Playing with your body was both pain and pleasure for Neteyam. He relished giving you pleasure and revelled in the way your body writhed and reacted. Your whimpers and moans were music to his ears, but all of this never failed to send his arousal soaring to a fevered pitch, which was where the pain came in. His cock was achingly hard, flexing and throbbing with the desperate need to be buried snugly inside you. His balls felt heavy and swollen, full of seed that his body yearned to gift to you.

With your legs clamped tight around his hips still, and leaving one hand and forearm under your bottom to help keep you propped up, he shifted his other hand towards your core. His knuckles brushed your slick centre and Neteyam groaned against the pillowy flesh of your breasts. You were so slippery soft and ready for him already… but he wanted to tease you more…

Running his knuckles over your pussy, he extended his fingers and gently breached you with two of them, earning him another cry from you. He knew what you liked and he curled his fingers just so, finding the spongey spot on your inner walls that he knew would drive you wild, as he pumped them in and out.

It was an incredible combination of sensation whenever he suckled on your breasts and played with your core. You were already beginning to see stars behind the tight clench of your closed eyelids.

Losing yourself in the building waves of pleasure, you moaned his name harshly with a curse, “Oh fuck, Neteyam.”

His mouth left your breast with succulent pop, “Is that the way to address your commanding officer?” He curled his fingers aggressively inside you, winding the coil of pressure in your pelvis even tighter.

Your apology was a whimper, “No, sorry sir.”

“I’m going to take care of you tonight, but only if you follow my lead. Is that clear?” Neteyam instructed, his speech adopting the formal tone he used with the platoon during the daytimes. He gave a deliberate twist of his fingers and your breath hitched.

“Mm, y-yes sir.”

“What’s your safe word if you need to use it, sweet girl?”

“Tsyoklìt.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his chuckle. It was the same safe word you always used after you had first chosen it when him and Lo’ak had started experimenting with some wilder forms of sexual play with you. However, it wasn’t so much your repetitive choice that amused him but the word itself and the backstory behind it.

Tsyoklìt was a Na’vi word phonetically loaned from its English counterpart: Chocolate.

Your reaction to trying the sweet human treat for the first time would forever remain one of Neteyam’s fondest memories.

The two of you had been younger, still adolescents training to pass your rites of passage to become warriors. It had been a very successful day at training and his father had decided to reward the learners with some chocolate. Jake had handed out the unfamiliar treat, which was then observed and examined with cautious sniffs and curious eyes. He and Lo’ak were already familiar with the foodstuff and had eagerly tucked into their share, prompting the others to do the same.

Most of the trainees had reacted with positive surprise, but not you. Your face had twisted into a grimace at the saccharine taste, lips turning into an unpleasant pout as you fought to swallow the sickeningly sweet bite you had taken. Neteyam had tried very hard not to laugh at your aversion and when he’d asked you what was wrong, you’d told him, “It’s way too sweet. It’s too much, far too much.”

So, in a way, your choice of safe word was rather fitting if things got too much.

Neteyam growled against your chest, feeling the contractions of your inner walls around his fingers, “Fuck, you’re irresistible, you know that? So beautiful and your body is perfect, so responsive.”

The stroking thrusts of Neteyam’s fingers in and out of you was pleasurable, but it wasn’t enough. You wriggled lightly, wishing you could somehow rock your hips to bring some friction against your clit, but the firm hold he had under your bottom and the way he had you trapped against the rock made for a rather unforgiving position.

“I need more.” You murmured your words languorously, and water droplets splattered softly against the spring’s surface when you lifted your hands to weave your fingers through Neteyam’s braids. You writhed again, attempting to find more friction, and Neteyam gave a warning snarl when your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling against his scalp.

“Demanding, are we?” He crooned, nipping at the skin of your neck, “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.”

Neteyam’s grip around your bottom eased and he stepped back so he was no longer pressing you against the rocks. You unwound your legs, sliding down his frame to stand again, very aware of the way his erection bounced free of your thighs as you untangled yourself from him. Your hands flew instantly to his swollen length, teasing it with a stroke-and-twist action you’d discovered Neteyam liked. He gave a guttural grunt and one of his hands flew to brace itself against the rocks.

Your smile was cunning and you chuckled low and husky at him, “It seems I’m not the only one who’s impatient, sir.”

Neteyam snickered, “It’s always an exercise in patience with you.” He let your hands relieve some of the pressure for the time being, content to bury his face into the crook of your neck while he moaned and littered your skin with gentle bites.

Great Mother, you loved when he was like this… Muscles flexing and relaxing, hot breaths against you while he shuddered and groaned from the pleasure you were inflicting on him. His cock was gorgeous like the rest of him: lengthy, thick, and beautiful cerulean blue, with a fat head that drizzled pre-cum if you teased him just right, and speckled with tanhì that glowed bright when he was close to the edge.

Pressing your cheek to his temple, you whispered to him, “You’re gorgeous and I want you inside me so badly.”

The twisting and throbbing pleasure in Neteyam’s midsection sparked in warning at your words and his hands flew to halt the motion of yours. Any more stimulation and he was going to lose his control and spill before he was ready to. He stayed your wrists when you tried to tease his cock some more and he flashed you a cautionary glance, “I need to cool off.”

Looping your arms around his neck you pushed off the balls of your feet to wrap your legs about his hips again. You whined, “No, I need you now.” Wriggling your hips, you felt the head of his cock brush your core where you wanted him most, but Neteyam snaked his arms under your bottom to keep you apart.

“No, I want to enjoy playing with you some more first. My mouth is watering to taste you.”

You bleated in frustration, “No, take me now. Please? Please, sir!”

Neteyam gave a throaty chuckle, walking you both towards the mossy bank, “Nice try.”

Reaching the moss-topped embankment, Neteyam lifted your body and sat you down on it, “Lie back, paskalin.”

He remained in the hot spring, the water pooling about his waist. The edge of the bank sat flush against his sternum and his intention was clear in his eyes as gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie down. Neteyam had expressed his desire to taste you and you knew that he was going to do just that; torture you with his lips and tongue until you were begging for all of him.

Leaning down with a slight pout at being denied your request to be penetrated, you stole one last kiss from his moist lips before obeying his instruction, “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” Neteyam purred, watching as you lay down and automatically lifted your legs into the air, bent at the knees, to display yourself to him.

He almost groaned and his cock throbbed eagerly at the erotic vision you made. Dewdrops of water clung to the supple skin of your thighs and though all of you was damp from the hot spring, your pussy glistened with your own slick moisture. The elevation of the bank was perfect for what he was about to do. All he had to do was lean down a little and he’d be able to lick and delve through your slick folds.

Curling one large hand around one of your hips to steady you, he ran his other in a tantalising rub over your lower belly. When the first lap of his tongue stroked over your core, you jumped with a soft wail. He bent to kiss you where you now burned the hottest, his tongue and lips making love to your clit, isolating it and sucking moderately. He took his time tasting you, drinking you in leisurely and languidly. It’d always taken your breath away how skilled Neteyam was with this particular act.

When you don’t want to give the whole of your body to another, you learn to please them in other ways… This was what he’d told you once. Fortunately for you, this was only ever a warm-up. You’d have all of him in the end, you just needed to be patient.

It wasn’t just his lips and tongue that Neteyam employed, he would rub his nose back and forth over you too. And then his fingers would join the endeavour, curling, stroking and stoking your pleasure higher and higher until you felt like you were thin and brittle glass, ready to shatter at any moment.

Your core pulsated with bliss as Neteyam continued his work. His mouth continued its suckling on your clit and two of his fingers gave your pussy the attention it so craved. Your hands were clutching at his braids, your hips rocking against his face as you whimpered and moaned. The atmosphere felt hot. It’d been a little chilly when he’d first lifted you from the warm water, but that was no longer the case. Your body burned for him, the pressure in your lower belly taut and tight, on the brink of orgasm.

“Oh, I’m so close,” Your breaths were heaving, your voice unstable, and you only caught yourself just in time from saying his name instead of his formal address as you pleaded, “N-Nete- Sir, please!”

Neteyam’s approval at your formal address of him rumbled against you. He fought a smirk, keeping his lips and tongue trained on the swollen bud at the apex of your thighs. You were so slick that the action of his fingers was squelching obscenely and he swore his cock was pulsing in time with each clench and throb of your pussy.

Boldly, knowing that he and his brother had experimented with you recently in this form of play, he moved his free hand from your hip to run a slick thumb over your butthole. You startled a little at the feel of it, but he continued to massage his thumb over the puckered flesh. There were no toys present tonight, but he knew you’d enjoyed the use of the butt plugs during the last couple of sessions at the shack. His thumb would have to do tonight.

You gave a muffled yelp at the addition of Neteyam’s thumb in your butt. It was a third point of pleasure on top of what he was already doing, and it only served to intensify the rhythmic clenching of your pelvic muscles. You could feel that you were flushed from head to toe. Your thighs were trembling where they hung suspended and splayed wide in the air, and your nipples were erect, kissing the night air. But Great Mother, the paradise that you were experiencing between your thighs was staggering. You lifted your head and tipped your chin forward to look down at Neteyam, only to find his golden eyes trained right back at you as he drove your body to its limit.

There was no holding on anymore at that point. The intensity of the lust in his eyes tipped you over the precipice you’d been teetering on. Your fist flew to your mouth, stifling your shriek of ecstasy as the waves of pleasure crested and crashed over you.

Neteyam was fighting a battle of his own, wrestling with what little remained of his body’s control as he watched and felt your body explode with pleasure. Your body squeezed around his fingers and he had a fleeting moment of panic when he felt his glutes tighten and his cock tense up, ready to spurt. Removing himself from you, he held on with everything he had through a clenched jaw.

Spent, you lowered your legs and let your shins hang off the embankment’s edge. You watched through bleary eyes as Neteyam rinsed lightly, before he hauled himself out of the water and onto the bank with a splash. He scooted backwards to join you and he stretched out alongside your form, one of his hands immediately moving to cup your cheek so he could tilt your head to kiss you.

“You did so well, sweet girl. Not that you’ve ever disappointed before.” He smoothed a palm over your head, patting down the stray fly-aways of hair from your forehead.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, and when his forehead crinkled in question, awaiting something, you rolled your eyes and added, “Sir.”

Neteyam rolled onto his side towards you, his big body sheltering you as he moved to twine one of his legs between yours, “I nearly lost my control back there.” He spoke against your lips between deep kisses, his breath hot and sweet against your mouth, “My every waking thought is tainted with you. My nightly dreams are wild with you. You drive me insane, Neyomi.”

You swallowed his every kiss, every declaration he made adding to the blooming warmth you had tried so hard for weeks to stifle in your heart. You wanted him alone like this every night. You wanted him to yourself, whenever and wherever you wished. You were drowning wholly and unreservedly in him. You were in way over your head with your emotions now and you knew it.

Clutching at one of his buttocks, you shifted beneath him and urged the rest of his heavy weight to settle over you and in the cradle of your hips, “Then take me now, sir. Have me how you want.”

Chuckling darkly, Neteyam briefly rose to sit on his haunches with his knees folded. He tucked your bottom closer to the vee of his thighs and placed his hands behind your knees, “You’ve been so good playing our little game today, addressing me formally. But I’m going to make you scream one more time tonight.” He pressed his weight downward, folding your legs back until your ankles were almost in line with your ears. He settled himself over you, bracing his weight on his elbows and he purred against your cheek, “And when you scream, paskalin, I want to hear my name on your lips. Am I clear?”

It was an erotic promise delivered with all the confidence of a man who knew he would succeed in his task, and as you lay sprawled and folded over beneath him, all you could do was submit to the coming onslaught of pleasure, “Yes, sir.”

Blood pounded in your ears in anticipation as you felt Neteyam position his cock at your entrance, the blunt head of it probing for the right angle to sink into your depths. With a slight adjustment to the tilt of your hips, he found home and he penetrated you in one full thrust. You threw your head back with a strangled cry at the gratifying fullness of him. The position you were in allowed for the deepest penetration possible and you felt all of him like this.

“You alright?” Neteyam queried, checking in with you though his own voice sounded strained.

You nodded, and it was all the permission he needed.

Drawing his hips back, Neteyam slammed back into you, setting a punishing pace as he thrusted. Every single stroke of his hips drove the head of his cock past your g-spot and it slid all the way in to hit your cervix. The sensation was a mixture of both pain and pleasure in the most carnally satisfying way. There was so much of him, your pussy enveloping his hard length from root to tip repeatedly as his thrusts continued to wind the coil of pressure tighter between your hips. His breathing was harsh by your ear and the sounds leaving him were an erotic mixture of growls, grunts, moans and whimpers.

Neteyam was unaware of anything else around him currently, singularly focused on you and spellbound by the immense pleasure radiating throughout his midsection. Your own cries and mewls spurred him on and when he felt you snake a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, he knew you were fast approaching your climax, and so was he.

Your inner walls fluttered around his cock and he let his head drop against your neck. Through the haze of your bliss you heard him grate out one last order, “Squirt for me, sweet girl. I know you can. I can feel how you need to.”

And you knew you would. There was little doubt about it as the familiar feeling of needing to release something burned behind your pubic bone. You almost always did now whenever Neteyam fucked you. There was just something about him; whether it was the way your bodies came together, the shape and size of his cock, the way he thrusted, or the way he would often whisper filthy things in to your ear, you always had very wet orgasms with him.

No other man had ever made your body feel the way he did. Not even Lo’ak had succeeded in making you squirt (much to his chagrin). It seemed your body reserved that rightly solely for Neteyam.

Your orgasm threatened, looming on the horizon while you massaged your clit faster. It was all pleasure; burning, aching, throbbing pleasure and you whined, straining to reach the burst of release that was so mind-blowing it sometimes felt like you’d blacked out for several moments.

“That’s it.” Neteyam encouraged, still maintaining the gruelling rhythm of his thrusts, “What’s my name?”

“N-Neteyam.” Your voice was a stuttered sob.

“Good girl. Let go, paskalin. Scream for me.”

With several heaving intakes of breath, you felt your orgasm crash through you, your pussy contracting rhythmically while several sprays of squirt spattered between your colliding bodies. His name tore from your throat in a carnal scream that you threw to the night sky above you, “NETEYAM!”

Neteyam’s entire frame strained and then tensed, and a grating growl left him as his own climax followed. His cock pulsed hard as he ejaculated, his hips pressed so tightly to yours it was as if he wanted to become one with your body and never part from you again. He slumped onto his side, breathless and panting rapidly while his body fought to find its equilibrium again after its euphoria. Yours was doing the same while you rested flat on your back with limp legs.

Usually, the afterglow after you’d played with Neteyam and Lo’ak was peaceful and pleasant, the three of you just cuddling and talking before cleaning up. However, tonight you felt uneasy in the face of your waning pleasure and you were very aware of Lo’ak’s absence. Neteyam was sprawled lethargically to your left, one of his legs tangled with yours while one of his arms was thrown over your abdomen.

It was a confronting sight and situation, being alone post-sex with Neteyam with nothing or no one else there to distract your mind from spiralling into the mess of your emotions. Your body still hummed with the remnants of your climax, but your heart seized in your chest with the realisation Neteyam had ruined you for anyone else now. You were quite certain that your body, mind and soul would never yearn for any other like it did for this man.

“Hey, you.” Neteyam’s voice crooned softly, and you returned your attention to him. His eyes were heavy with his somnolence and his expression was soft, contented. He stroked a finger over your cheek and trailed it over your lips. You instinctively puckered your lips in a gentle kiss.

“Hey,” You parroted, suddenly lost for words and not knowing what else to say.

He leaned over towards you and gathered you in his arms so you were flush against his chest. He stroked a warm hand over your hair before he began to lay tender kisses on your face; your cheek, your nose, both your eyes and then your forehead. It was both wonderfully and terrifyingly intimate.

You were in far too deep. You’d taken a risk; a beautiful and indulgent risk, and it was abundantly clear to you now how unwise it had been. Neteyam was out of your reach as a potential mate. You could never be truly his. It wasn’t your place.

His hand continued its path of caresses over your face, and you felt him rub his cheek against your head. The occasional brush of his lips along your hairline or along the delicate shell of your ear followed while he murmured sweet nothings to you; about how beautiful you were; how good you had been with him; how good you felt in his arms…

This dreamy intimacy had to stop. There was a line between body play and love, and you didn’t know where it was anymore. This was too much, too sweet…

One word slipped from your lips, painful in the implication of its meaning, “Tsyoklìt.”

Neteyam stilled at the mention of your safe word. He pulled back a little to regard you with a furrowed brow. Your playtime session had ended, so your utterance of the word was unexpected.

Meeting your gaze, he found your eyes wide with uncertainty and several emotions flashed across his handsome face as his mind processed your reaction: Mild confusion, slight amusement, surprise, and then sudden comprehension. A mumbled apology tumbled from his lips. He pushed up on an elbow to sit up, shuffling away to put some space between you at the realisation that he’d made you uncomfortable with his tender show of affection.

You felt a sharp pinprick in your chest as he moved away from you. It was the last thing you wanted… but you had to work smart now… You couldn’t dig yourself a hole any bigger than the one you were already in or you’d never make it out…

The atmosphere was suddenly taut with uncomfortable tension. It felt like something between the both of you had shifted; like the world was now somehow wrong and sitting off its intended axis. You swallowed the burgeoning lump in your throat and stared wordlessly at the man before you.

Neteyam’s expression was neutral, but you knew he’d schooled it that way intentionally. But he hadn’t done it quickly enough for you to miss the hurt that had flickered in his eyes for a brief moment.

Eywa, what had you done?... What had you both done?... You were so thoroughly fucked in this mess now…

***~~~***

Author's Note:Thank you all so much for reading. Thank you for all your support! It means the absolute world to me to hear from you. Comments, likes & reblogs are always so appreciated. 💕

I do have a Part 4 planned, and we will see another Sully bro threesome in it, plus more emotional drama between NeteyamxReader (Neyomi).

Let me know if I have your user in the taglist wrong and for those who'd like to be added, give me a shout in the comments. 😄

Part IV - Haunted by You now HERE

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