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ryniadora · 1 year ago

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wip Wednesday things

Is v long despite being a wip so under a cut. Post Chantry-explosion drabble about my two Hawke/Amell cousins and their relationships with Anders and Fenris. Very unpolished and weirdly structured.

"I didn't ask for this".

“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck.” Becca was shaking with rage as she approached the sullen mage, sitting on his little crate and staring at the floor. He didn’t even look at her, nor did he look at Felicity, who had fallen to her knees beside him and was staring up with wide eyes - the healer looked as stunned as Becca felt.

“Anders.”

His head lifted a fraction, his face hidden by a curtain of hair. “What do you want me to say, Becca? Just … just get it over with. I did what I had to do. If I need to die for it then so be it. I am sorry, if that means anything at this point.” “You're sorry? Is that all you have to say for yourself? You blew up the fucking Chantry, you tricked me into helping you do it and you had the absolute nerve to tell me it was to try and separate you from Justice?” Her rage was overwhelming, filling every part of her body with fire. Fenris hovered a few steps behind, hand on his sword hilt, eyes similarly burning with barely-contained fury. “It’s only me who is to blame here. You are blameless, as you always are.” a note of bitterness tinged Anders’ voice. “This had to be done, you know that.” “You didn’t have to hide it from me, Anders!” Becca snapped, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder but pulling herself back. “We could have thought of a better way if you’d been honest with me, let me help!”

“But you wouldn’t, would you?” Anders snarled, leaping to his feet and finally looking Becca in the eye. His expression was harsh, fury and sadness mingled so tightly you couldn’t possibly separate them. Like him and Justice, came the unbidden thought. “If it came right down to it you would let him influence you, tell you all mages are just abominations waiting to happen. You’d have tried to stop me, I know you would, and I couldn’t risk it. You always choose him.” Becca recoiled from his venom, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Anders was shaking, his fists clenched at his sides, his breath ragged. Felicity scrambled to her feet and stood, hands trembling, slightly in front of the enraged man as if to try and shelter him from the angry faces ranged before them. Becca almost felt sorry for Felicity - everyone knew she was head over heels obsessed with Anders apart from Anders himself. She was the only person present who would defend him for what he had just done.

The agony in Felicity’s dark eyes echoed her own, like a ribbon of pain winding around the two women as they both stood in front of the man they loved, a twisted standoff. Becca felt Fenris take a step closer to her, and could hear him murmuring a mantra under his breath to keep calm. “That isn’t-” she began, but Anders cut her off. “It is. It’s all it’s ever been, Becca. I love you.” Felicity’s eyes screwed shut just as Becca’s did for a moment, the ribbon drawing taut around her heart. Those three simple words felt like heavy blows. “It’s been so hard to watch you, knowing that he has you and I never will. Knowing that you could never commit fully to helping the mages because of his poison in your ear. So long as he stands behind, you would never have agreed to help free us from Meredith's tyranny and you know it.”

“She wouldn’t, because blowing up a building to incite a war is literal insanity!” Fenris growled, putting a hand protectively on Becca’s shoulder. She felt frozen now, the fire in her veins replaced with ice as she stared wordlessly back into Anders’ eyes. It was all true. Everything Fenris had ever warned her about had come to pass and the pain of it stabbed into her as keenly as a blade. The hated tears welled to the surface as she searched the mage’s face for any hint that this was a lie, that in a moment she would wake up and be back in the manor, Chantry un-exploded. She found no consolation. “There it is. I told you I’d break your heart, Becca.” Anders said simply, his voice shaking. “I may host Justice, but I am just a man at the end of it all. A lonely, jealous man, in love with a beautiful woman he can never have. One he lost to a beast, one who could never understand why drastic action is needed."

It was Becca’s turn to stare at the floor. She heard Merrill’s shocked gasp behind her, and could imagine the looks on each of her companions’ faces as clear as day. Isabela, smugly knowing. Varric, concerned. Aveline, stern. Sebastian in a blinding fury. She could hear Felicity sobbing, a desperate wail made worse by the fact that she was clearly trying to hold it back. It was a bad day to be a member of their family. Becca wavered for a brief moment at the haunting sound, love for her one remaining family member threatening to overturn her resolve. But only for a second.

“So, Becca? What’s the verdict for the terrible mage rebel?” Anders spat. Fenris moved before Becca could stop him, and she let out a strangled denial that was echoed by Felicity’s shriek of “No!” as the elf easily swatted her aside and lifted Anders like he was a rag doll, a hand clasped firmly around his throat. The lyrium tattoos were glowing, visible even through the gloves he wore. “Fen, no!” Becca reached out a hand to the two men, fighting her way past the overwhelming swirl of emotions in her mind to reach that calm, cool exterior she was known for. The fury wouldn’t leave her, it was threatening to drown everything but she couldn’t bear to let Fenris do something drastic on her behalf. Her rage turned to shock as suddenly Felicity’s hand appeared beside Fenris’ face, burning with a flame that had to be hurting the woman.

“Put him down, Fenris.” Felicity growled, “I swear to the Maker, if you hurt him I’ll make you regret being gentle with me.” “You’re bluffing, Felix.” Fenris said simply, not moving. “And you were never any good at it. Stop grandstanding before you burn your own hand off.” “Fliss,” Anders gasped, clutching desperately at the hands around his throat. “Do you really want to bet I won’t? Last warning, Fenris. Put. Him. Down.” The elf slowly lowered Anders to the ground, holding him firmly by the neck as he turned to look at his beloved. Felicity did not move, tears streaming down her ravaged face as she bored holes in the back of Fenris’ head.

“You might want to put a better leash on your dog, Becca.” Anders was sarcastic even in defeat, even lost in vengeance. For some reason that made things worse - at the end of it all, he was still her best friend, the man who swapped jokes with her, who played all the same card games, who was always her partner for pub trivia night. That same man had betrayed her, betrayed them all for his twisted Justice. “One could say the same for you.” Fenris snapped, and he actually winced as the ball of fire next to his head flared in response to his words. "Is this what you choose, Felix?" Becca looked to her cousin, "You choose him?" "I don't have a choice, not after what I did." Felicity growled the words, but she was still openly weeping. "Not since you snatched away my one chance at happiness."

"This is your decision, Bex. You have but to say the word.” Fenris said simply, the glow subsiding but the furrow of his eyebrows betraying his real feelings at the pair of mages behind him. Becca heaved a sigh, and shook her head heavily. “Let them go, Fen. This won’t solve anything." Anders clutched at his throat as he staggered back into Felicity’s arms, watching with burning eyes as Fenris returned to Becca’s side. “See? You always choose him. You always will. It’s very sweet how loyal you are. But stupid, after everything he did to you.'' The words were like the needles Anders was intending them to be, sharp pin pricks on her mind.

"Mark my words, abomination. If you come near Becca again I will rip your heart out." Fenris snarled as Anders turned his back, Felicity’s hand on his arm as she whispered fervently in his ear. “Go.” Becca choked the word through a throat full of emotions. “Becca don’t, please, don’t send us away.” Felicity’s head shot up and she locked eyes with her cousin. Her words were desperate pleas. “Don’t. Please.” “Don’t try to change my mind, Felix. I cannot forgive this, and you know it.” The words were so heavy, so hard to say. But her mind was made up.

Felicity outstretched her hand, beseeching her cousin for mercy, and Becca could see the blisters from holding that fireball forming red and shiny on her delicate fingers. The pain on Felicity’s face made Becca’s heart ache, but the rage, the indignation would not allow her to give in. What had happened was wrong, beyond redemption or forgiveness, and that Felicity condoned it was proof that they had reached a point of no return. The ribbon connecting them was severed now, tattered ends billowing in the wind.

“Becca, I'm begging you. Please. You've already taken everything else from me, please. Let us stay. There will be so many people who need our help." “Don’t bother, you know how stubborn she is.” The words were quiet accusations. Anders was still turned away, but he had taken Felicity gently by the hand; she looked at him with an expression that defied simple definition. Shock, love, anger, sadness, guilt, all wrapped up together. “You should go with her, Fliss. Being on the run is no life for a talented woman like you.” “No, I decided to help you so if you're guilty then I am too. I won’t leave you to face this alone.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Felix.” Isabela piped up, the first interruption from the rest of the group since the explosion. “Then I won’t. Bex, if you send Anders away then you're beyond my help. I can’t watch you do this, not when you told me you cared about mages like me. You can’t claim to care and then stand by and watch as we are murdered!” The two women stared at each other for a few moments that stretched into eternity, two pillars of indignant rage, the proverbial rock and hard place.

“I won’t repeat myself. Get out, both of you, before I change my mind."

The betrayal was really sinking in now, festering inside Becca like an infected wound. She felt Fenris’ hand twine around hers, which helped a little bit as she watched Anders walk away without another word, almost dragging Felicity along with him as she wept like a child. Damn his eyes, he was right. Her heart was broken, split in half by the betrayal of someone she had trusted implicitly. She had denied his obsession with her for too long, and it was coming back to bite her just as Fenris had warned her.

He’d taken her last remaining family with him. She might not have seen eye to eye with Felicity most of the time, but they were still family and her choosing Anders over her own blood stung almost as keenly. “Come, vhenan, we must move. The fight will not wait for us. You can mourn later.” Fenris leant his forehead against hers briefly, a display of affection that normally they would not do in public but one that Becca sorely needed. She managed a tight smile, just for him, before her face returned to a mask of anger.

There was a city waiting for her to save it.

Again.

#wip wednesday #dragon age oc #dragon age 2 #Rebecca Hawke #Felicity Amell #it's not great tbh #but I want to post it somewhere #hawke x fenris #handers #would like to write this from Felicity's POV too #I really like their dynamic #Fliss is me tho #Becca has shitty opinions on mages #anders did nothing wrong

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auroralightsthesky · 7 months ago

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Oh my God, I'm BLUSHING!!!!! (lol).

"Lady Imogen," he says when she stops a few paces away. "Professor," she greets, one brow quirked. "What brings you here at this time of night?" 📚 📝 ✨ | (an historical romance x Eccentric Professor Bob AU by @bobfloydsbabe)

#tgmedit #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #becca's moodboard's #eccentric professor bob

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zepskies · 2 years ago

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And So It Goes - Part 14

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job — and more importantly her life — or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

Pairing: Butcher/OFC (Latina!OC)

ASIG Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Smuttish, angst, fluff.

14: Calculated Risks

Now that Helena had opened up the wondrous world of FaceTime to her parents, they were taking full advantage of the newfound channel of communication.

“You were finally at the top of your career, and you quit your job,” her father griped. She listened to this from her living room couch, trying to resist rolling her eyes.

Instead, she held her phone in front of her. The only indication of her irritation was in her pursed lips.

“Joe,” her mom reproached him in the background. Celia was a more patient woman.

“Just help me understand that,” he said. “I didn’t complain when you didn’t come home for the holidays. Because I knew you were working towards your career, making something of your life. But now?”

Her father’s disappointment stung, as it always did, as she knew it would. For once, Helena didn’t have anything to say.

“Well, this could be an opportunity for her to find a job closer to home,” Celia said. She turned her imploring eyes on Helena. “You only have one family, mi amor. And what’s more important: money, or family?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Mom, but I need to stay in New York,” Helena replied.

They didn’t understand. Going back to Miami was like going backwards in time, to a life and version of herself that no longer existed.

And yet, she didn’t have any other ideas either. She just knew that staying in New York was the only decision that felt right.

“The way she’s going, she’s gonna waste her life,” Joe muttered. Celia tried to shush him, but that was the final straw for Helena.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said. “Sorry I’m such a fuck-up.”

That landed them all in silence for a few painful moments. After which, her dad got up and left, claiming he needed to check on the restaurant. Celia tried to pacify, explaining that the restaurant your parents owned was now mostly being run by Helena’s uncle, Joe’s younger brother, and his kids.

“With your father’s arthritis, he can’t work the dough like he used to,” Celia explained. “And with my back problems…it just made sense for us to step back. It’s still in the family, so that’s what counts.”

Helena nodded at that. It made sense; her parents were getting older, and running a restaurant was a huge task.

“Mom, for the first time in my life, I have no idea what to do,” she said. Celia sighed, but she gave her daughter a smile.

“You’ve always been smart, resourceful, a planner. You put yourself through college, moved to New York on your own,” she said.

Well, after high school, Helena had moved to New York with Becca at her side. They’d roomed together all through college. They’d only separated when Becca moved in with Billy Butcher.

“But life derails,” Celia continued, interrupting Helena’s thoughts. “All you can do is make a new plan—hopefully one that includes calling your mother. Whenever the Lord decides to take me, I should hope that I get to hear your voice more often until then.”

Helena smiled. There really was nothing like a guilt-trip from her Catholic mother. She was about to end the call when her father wandered back in.

“Are you gonna say goodbye to your daughter?” Celia said pointedly at him. Her husband was certainly not immune to her antics either. He sighed and met Helena’s eyes in the video call.

“Bye, Dad,” she said civilly. He was about to reply, when Helena noticed Butcher entering the living room from the corner of her eye. He passed behind where she was sitting on the lounge chair.

“Hey, babe,” she said, beckoning him over with a hand. Explaining that she was dating Billy Butcher, Becca’s former husband, had been a…trying conversation. Joe had much to say on the subject, but for the past few weeks, Helena had been trying to get them to come around during calls like this.

Butcher, for his part, tolerated it. Though he wouldn’t admit it, she knew talking to her parents made him uncomfortable.

Still, he obliged her and leaned down so her parents could see him in the frame.

“Ey there, Mr. Flores. Celia, lookin’ lovely as always,” he charmed. Helena’s lips curved in a smile as her mother smiled and greeted him back warmly.

Joe, however, remained more or less stoic.

“Billy,” he greeted. Then, with a raised brow, “Haven’t ended up in any more news headlines, have you?”

He hadn’t missed how Butcher’s name and face had been plastered across the media as a criminal last year. But Helena and Butcher had explained, at least, that it had been Vought’s attempts to cover their own sins by vilifying Butcher and his friends.

“Not this year, Gov,” Butcher replied, quirking a smile. “But it’s early.”

Helena swatted him (mostly playful, but also warning him with her eyes).

“I’m sure,” Joe said dryly. “Look. Whatever you’re into, or used to be into, I don’t care. Just…don’t let my daughter get hurt.”

Helena took issue with this. She opened her mouth to offer a hot retort, but with a knowing glance, Butcher beat her to it.

“Your daughter can take care of herself just fine,” he said. She looked over at him, smiling a little.

“Then don’t give her a reason to do so,” Joe said.

Butcher met her father’s eyes, and he nodded. “On that, you have my word.”

Sensing that was a good moment to end on, Helena then said goodbye to her parents and finished the call. Butcher let out a breath and went to sit on the couch beside her lounge chair, so she got up and joined him, taking a comfortable seat in his lap.

“Ello,” he murmured. His arms closed around her comfortably. She raised a hand to his bearded cheek and swiped her thumb across his skin.

“We’re both getting bored here,” she said. Upstate New York was safer than the city, but that was also kind of the problem.

“I want to take Hughie’s offer, consulting for Supe Affairs,” she said.

Butcher made a sound of annoyance, tipping his head back. They’d had this conversation before.

“I want to do something that matters, Billy. Something I can be proud of,” she said. He raised his head with a frown.

“You wanna fuck up everything you’ve got going here?” he asked. “Do what you told your dad. Get a job online somewhere.”

“Like what, stock trading?” Helena shot back. “Am I a middle-aged white guy?”

Despite himself, he smirked. “On behalf of middle-aged white men, that was uncalled for.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, but you’re special.”

“Yet, still feel insulted.”

Butcher then sighed heavily. “There’s a whole world out there full of jobs. You ain’t gotta go back to all that.”

“I know a lot about Vought’s inner workings,” Helena argued. “I can help the S.A.”

“Info I’m sure you gave to Mallory in exchange for this house,” said Butcher.

Helena rose a brow. “I found the house myself, if you must know. But yes, she did point out a couple necessary upgrades.”

Butcher nodded.

“Yeah, like that titanium fucking bunker downstairs,” he said. “Not to mention every single wall in this house is lined with zinc. Do I really need to fucking remind you why that is?”

Helena frowned, but her silence conceded the point.

“What should happen the second some rat from Vought sees you havin’ a little sit down with the enemy?” he said. “You think they’re not gonna go back and check every email, every archive of footage, every trackable move you ever made?”

“Trackable, being the key word,” she pointed out. “I used my burner phone—”

“You think they don’t got screen time of you using that phone on their property?” he asked. “They have that clip of you and Homelander. That’s motive.”

Helena sighed and playfully covered his mouth with her hand. She rested further against him, and he tucked her against his chest, absently stroking her bare thigh. He enjoyed these little shorts she liked parading around in.

“All right, all right. I got it,” she said. “…I’ll just have to update my LinkedIn or something.”

That afternoon, while Helena was busy looking for jobs, Butcher claimed he was going on a drive.

That drive took him a few hours into the city, to his favorite bar. It wasn’t his favorite because of the overpriced beer, or the delightful locale. He frequented this particular bar because it was a trendy hangout for supes, with secret lounge behind the main establishment.

It was where he went to catch up on the latest gossip among supes. He knew what the headlines said (months and months of Homelander giving his apology tour. Some bullshit about falling in love with the “wrong woman.”).

But Butcher wanted to keep his finger on the pulse here. He was tempted to call M.M., even Frenchie. But as far as he knew, M.M. was out for good. And Frenchie and Kimiko were working with Hughie, and by extension, with Victoria Neuman.

Another bureaucrat claiming to try and make a difference in this sorry shithole world.

So Butcher spent way too much on a simple beer while he collected snippets of conversation from nearby patrons—most of them supes. But it was the same drivel (A-Train still on his ass. The Deep writing a new book. Starlight gaining a massive following after Stormfront’s public fall from grace).

Nothing of real consequence.

So a few hours later, he left and went to a real bar. Where the beer was essentially piss water, and the patrons were more pitiful than the cast of Cheers. And certainly, nobody knew his name.

He chose a small table in the back to nurse his whiskey, and he stared at it, hesitating to put it to his lips. Helena ran a tight ship in her home, with a locked liquor cabinet. He’d been clean and sober for the better part of a year…

He was still debating his decision on whether to take a sip when a hush went through the bar. Butcher didn’t look up when Homelander sat across from him.

“William,” he said, eyeing his appearance with amusement. “What fuckhole did you crawl out of?”

Butcher tilted his head. Then he leaned back in his seat to stare calmly back at the golden bastard.

“Should’ve known you couldn’t stay away,” Butcher said, quirking a brow. “What, you obsessed with me, mate?”

Homelander rolled his blue eyes. “Where’s my son?”

Butcher only smirked, making Homelander sigh and tap the greasy table between them in irritation. They both knew he wouldn’t tell him jack shit.

“Like a cockroach, just refusing to die,” he muttered. Then, a vindictive smile curved his lips. “What’ve you been doing for the past year, besides wallowing?”

He didn’t outwardly show it, but Butcher’s temper snapped at that, rolling under his skin. He was tempted to ask—now that his Nazi fuck buddy was on ice—if Homelander was cornering women in broad daylight now, or just in meeting rooms and empty hallways.

“How’s your mutilated, psycho, Nazi bitch doing?” Butcher asked. “You still visiting that charred stump when the cameras don’t follow?”

He noticed Homelander gritting his teeth, jaw locking.

“They’re just doling out pardons to anyone nowadays,” he remarked.

Butcher smirked. He was tempted to pick up his glass, but he left it on the table, casually leaning back in his chair. If Homelander was going to kill him, he probably would’ve done it by now. If he was reading the prick correctly, he didn’t yet want the game to end.

Homelander slowly stood to his full height. Grimacing at the greasiness of the table, he stole a nearby patron’s napkin and wiped his hands.

“Be careful, William,” he said. “Don’t slip up.”

Butcher was late for dinner, but he didn’t tell Helena what happened. He didn’t even tell her that he’d gone to the city.

That night, he was kept awake by tumultuous thoughts. She went to bed ahead of him, and near three in the morning, he found himself sitting at her bedside, contemplating what the hell he was going to do next.

“We’re both getting bored,” she’d said. But the reality was, he was going fucking stir crazy.

And seeing Homelander was like a douse of ice-cold water.

He had a decision to make, but it wouldn’t be an easy one. Mallory had warned him not to come here for a reason…and now he finally understood.

If he went back into the game, pursuing Homelander, he ran the risk of this shit tracking back to Helena; of Homelander finding another opening to exploit—and using it against him.

The next morning over breakfast, Butcher sat across from her at the breakfast nook while she poured them each a cup of coffee.

“I need to go take care of something,” he said. Helena looked up at him, noted his tone and the look in his eyes. She set down the carafe.

“What is it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Better if you don’t know. But won’t take long.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” She went to his side and angled herself in front of him, so he looked at her in the eyes.

“What’s going on?” she pressed.

He didn’t really know what to tell her. Maybe part of him didn’t exactly know what he was doing himself.

“Trust me?” he asked.

“With most things, yes,” she admitted. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Eventually, she sighed.

“Okay,” she relented. “Just…call me tomorrow. Let me know what’s going on.”

So she let him go.

She didn’t get that call until two days later.

“Billy, what the fuck,” she hissed after picking up the phone. She was at home, had been about to call Hughie when Butcher finally called her back. She’d been blowing up his phone for the past few hours.

“I’m not gonna be back for a while, Hel,” he said with a sigh. She halted in her pacing through what had been, up until now, their shared bedroom.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Just for a couple weeks. I’ll come home between jobs,” he said.

With everything she had within her, Helena tried to keep a clamp down on her temper so she didn’t blow a fuse.

“If you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on, Billy Butcher, God so help me—”

She heard him sigh heavily. Then came the admission.

“I joined Supe Affairs,” he said.

Helena froze in shock. And anger.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” she shouted. “So you can risk your fucking life, but I can’t? That’s a hell of a double-standard.”

“I’m sorry, but this is how it’s gonna have to be,” Butcher said. “You can’t be seen with the likes of me here in the city. But if I stay put any longer, I’m gonna have a fucking aneurysm.”

Helena made a sound of pure aggravation. She knew he was right; Vought still had too many eyes in the city, and if she was seen with Butcher, it would trigger suspicions. They’d go looking into the question: How long had they been in contact? And for what reason?

Then she’d be screwed.

“Fucking hell!” She released a weighty sigh and sat down hard on her bed. “I hate you right now, you know that right?”

Butcher chuckled. Damn him, it still warmed her to hear his voice.

“I’ll be home soon,” he promised.

This isn’t fair, she wanted to say. Supe Affairs was her idea, even if it would get her into more trouble than Butcher…

“Hold on, did you just…” she trailed as she realized something. “You think of my place as your home now.”

For a moment, there was a pause on the other line. But eventually, Butcher replied.

“Think I said something to that effect, didn’t I?” he said cheekily.

But she reads the thread of discomfort in his tone. That told her he was telling the truth.

It quenched her ire (at least for the moment).

“Okay, Billy. We’ll do it your way,” she said in defeat.

“All right, love. I appreciate that,” he said. And she actually felt the sincerity in his tone.

But after they hung up, the longer she thought about it, the more her resentment grew…

Her mom told her to find a new plan.

So she found another number in her contacts and placed a new call.

“Helena. Can’t say I wasn’t expecting this call,” said Grace Mallory.

“Grace,” Helena said. “You’ve done a lot for me already, but I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I need a job.”

There was only one job Grace was willing to give her. And that was how Helena found herself driving just a couple of hours west, where Grace was personally caring for Becca’s son.

It made sense, if Helena thought about it. Grace was a widower, with seemingly no family left close enough for her to be with. And Helena knew that Grace felt a personal stake in Ryan’s welfare, after Becca’s death.

Helena felt the same way. So it felt right to go to that house and discuss the additional details of what Grace may need her to do.

But it was also nice to see that Ryan was doing well, all things considered. He remembered her from that day in the parking lot, on the edge of the park. The day his mother died.

“I was friends with your mom,” Helena explained to him, while the three of them sat in the kitchen. Helena and Ryan played a game of checkers, since she didn’t know how to play chess. That was Becca’s game.

“When?” Ryan asked.

“Since we were kids,” Helena replied with a smile. “Then we moved up to New York together for college. And we ended up working at Vought together—”

She hadn’t meant to add that last bit, but Ryan looked up at you, sensing your hesitation.

“It’s okay. Grace told me about Vought,” he said with a frown. “That they’re the reason Mom and I were alone, in that house.”

Helena briefly glanced at Grace before she returned her attention to the game, and discreetly, she took inventory of her surroundings.

The house was large, but it wasn’t decorated lavishly. It had floral print curtains in the kitchen, plain tile floors, and a normal coffee maker on the counter. The living room had a comfortable couch and a not overly large TV.

Overall, it was meant to be a home. It just lacked…a soul, really.

But of course, Ryan had his own room. He’d shown Helena his shelves full of books and comics, and a closet full of clothing and toys. Most of it, Grace had told her, had been brought over from the old house he’d shared with Becca. So most of his things were his. But there were some new additions, like the large stuffed dinosaur Grace had bought him, nestled on the couch.

“How often does Butcher come to see you?” Helena asked. She was very curious, even more so when Ryan perked up at the mention of Butcher.

“About once a month,” Grace answered for him. Helena could tell by the look on Ryan’s face that he wished it was more often.

“Well, he lives closer to you now, so hopefully he can make it up here more,” Helena said.

“How do you know?” Ryan asked. He had hope in his eyes.

“Well, he lives with me,” she said. And though she hesitated to reveal this, she felt she should be as honest as possible with Ryan. “He and I are sort of…together.”

Ryan paused in setting down one of his red pieces to “king” himself. He was definitely winning the game.

“Oh…like dating?” he asked. He looked more surprised than upset, and she didn’t know why that relieved her so much.

“Yeah, dating. Let’s call it that,” Helena said with a nod and a smile. It was hard to quantify her relationship with Butcher. Terms like “dating” or “boyfriend and girlfriend” seemed juvenile—both too much and not enough.

“So I’ll be coming around more often to hang out with you, if that’s okay,” she said. “Help you with your homework, that kind of thing. Or if you just want someone to talk to…”

Ryan didn’t know her that well. She wasn’t sure how receptive he would be to her friendship. But she underestimated just how lonely he truly was, even with Grace. His eyes once again lit up with an imploring curiosity as he looked up at her.

“Would you…tell me more about my mom?” he asked tentatively. “When she was young?”

Helena’s heart both grew and broke for him. Her smile was warm as she reached out and rubbed his shoulder.

“Yeah. Of course, hon. We can definitely do that,” she replied. The smile Ryan gave her softened her even more. So much that she didn’t even realize that he’d won the game of checkers.

She chuckled. “Good game, buddy.”

“Want to go play outside while Helena and I talk for a minute?” Grace asked. It wasn’t an order, but a suggestion that Ryan agreed to easily. Helena helped him clean up the game, and afterwards, she and Grace supervised him on the back porch while he threw a baseball in the backyard.

“He’s still playing all by himself. He’s too alone here,” Helena remarked. He should be interacting with other kids his age, going to school, making friends.

“It’s not safe for him to leave. You know that better than anyone,” Grace said.

“So you want me to come and watch him when you can’t. Is that it?” Helena asked.

“More than that. I could use your eyes on some other projects I have going,” she said. “Records keeping, data analytics, reconnaissance. Basically, nothing you didn’t do for Madelyn Stillwell.”

Helena nodded. That sounded like a job she could do well.

“And you’re really not telling Butcher about this?” Grace asked, raising a brow. Helena’s lips pursed.

“Not yet. He seems to think I should lock myself in my room and never come out again.”

Neither woman spoke for a moment as they watched Ryan hurl a baseball across the length of a football field, only to sprint down that distance to go grab the ball again. If nothing else, he’d tire himself out running back and forth.

“You know he came to me in order to find you,” Grace said.

“Yeah, thanks for that breach of security,” Helena replied, unable to curb a bit of snark.

“I advised him not to go see you,” Grace said, “unless he was willing to give up Homelander.”

Helena turned to her with raised brows. “He didn’t promise that.”

“He didn’t,” Grace confirmed. “But he was persistent. I warned him that he would compromise your safety one day.”

Helena took that in with a deep breath. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful that Grace seemed to actually care about her wellbeing, but had also meddled in her life. At the same time, she didn’t know whether to be angry at Butcher for selfishly pursuing her, or love him all the more for wanting to see her that badly.

Helena didn’t know what to feel.

“Why did you bother warning him?” she asked, more petulantly than she meant to. Grace finally turned to look at her.

“If losing Becca didn’t break him, losing someone else to this certainly would,” she said plainly.

Helena stared into the older woman’s eyes and saw the truth of her age. The shit she must’ve seen. And then Helena realized…if there was anyone else in this world that seemed to care about Butcher, it was Grace Mallory. Because she was absolutely goddamn right.

“Just keep that in mind,” she added.

Then she called Ryan back inside.

Helena stayed to cook dinner for them, and even got pulled into watching the first Jurassic Park with Ryan. Something told her he was going through a dinosaur phase.

But whatever reservations she might have had about the kid, he was already starting to get under her skin—in a good way. He was so genuine and bright, and Helena could see Becca’s influence in him. She saw more of Becca than Homelander in his dark blue eyes, in the softness of his chin, and his light brown hair.

And Helena knew she would keep coming back to see Ryan, partly for selfish reasons. Just as Ryan wanted to know what his mother was like in her younger, more carefree days, Helena also wanted to know what Becca was like as a mom; in the years she missed with her best friend.

But before she left for the night, she gave Ryan a hug and asked him for a favor.

“The next time you see Billy, don’t tell him I came by, okay?” she asked. She would have to make sure she didn’t visit on days that he came by too.

Ryan looked confused. “Why? Aren’t you guys together?”

“Well, yes.”

“So…you’re gonna lie to him?”

He clearly didn’t approve of that.

Helena sighed. How the hell do I explain this?

She sat back down with Ryan on the living room couch and pat his knee.

“Billy wants me to be safe, just like he wants you to be safe,” she said. “But I have things to do too. I can’t always be where he wants me to be. I’m going to tell him…in a little while. I just need some time.”

“Are you saying it’s not safe for you to come here?” Ryan asked in concern.

Realizing her mistake, Helena shook her head. “Let’s just say…any time I leave the house is a calculated risk.”

“But why? What happened to you?” he asked. The kid was so heartfelt, it almost had tears welling up in her eyes.

“I helped Butcher and his friends go up against Vought in order to save you and your mom. I quit my job there without them knowing what I did,” she explained. “But if they ever find out, they’re not going to be happy with me.”

That just seemed to confuse Ryan even more. Helena didn’t want to have to explain all the rough details to him. He already seemed to be worried about his new friend, so she laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry about that. Just know that I’m here for you if you need me,” she said. She gave him her cell phone number to plug into his own phone (which only had Grace and Butcher listed in the contacts).

When Helena was finally on her way home, it was close to midnight. A few hours of driving, and bed, here I come, she thought.

But she was almost startled at her cell ringing. She fumbled for her phone in her purse, wondering if Ryan was trying out her number already.

It wasn’t Ryan, however. It was Butcher.

Fuck!

He really had the worst fucking timing.

“Okay, it’s okay,” she told herself. “Be cool.”

With a grimace, she sighed and connected her phone to her car and answered the call.

“Hey, baby,” she said. “Finally I get to hear from you.”

“Where are you? Sounds like you’re in the car…at midnight? Where the hell are you off to?” Butcher asked.

“Hello to you too,” she remarked. “Was feeling peckish. Decided to hit a Dairy Queen.”

“Ahh. Going back to your double fudge ways, are you?” he teased.

Helena huffed. “All right, it’s not that serious. At least I don’t inhale cheesecake like it’s my last meal.”

“Cheesecake is a fuckin’ delicacy in all its forms,” he retorted. “Speakin’ of which, we should hit the Factory when I’m back in town.”

“And when will that be exactly?” she asked dryly.

“Tomorrow,” he replied, surprising her. “We caught us another nefarious supe. Some C-level pyro who’d singed a few too many prostitutes, but we got ‘im.”

Helena smiled at the satisfaction in his voice. Despite her prior resentment, she was glad he was being productive, and working with Kimiko and Frenchie again at the S.A. (even if things still seemed to be strained between him and Hughie). He was getting an outlet for his supe vendetta in…more or less the right way.

“And is the supe still alive?” she asked, only a little bit skeptical. She hoped for the best, but was realistic about Butcher. He wasn’t known for curbing his tactics when it came to bringing down his target.

“A bit banged up,” he admitted. Helena rolled her eyes at what was likely an understatement. “But still breathing.”

He sounded like he was telling the truth. She hummed in approval. “Color me surprised. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah well, Neuman runs a tight ship. All that bloody government red tape and all that,” he said with a sigh.

Helena knew that part grated on him, but it was necessary, she thought. Catching the bad guy didn’t mean they had to die for their crimes. Supe Affairs had made it possible for supes to be put through due process like everyone else. And it wasn’t for Butcher to be the judge and executioner.

“Red tape is good for you,” she replied knowingly. But then, a more vulnerable part of her rose to the surface at hearing his voice. “I miss you.”

He was quiet on the line for a moment.

“Yeah,” he eventually replied. By the weight in his tone, she knew it wasn’t a dismissal. In the language of emotionally deficient men (of which she’d become fluent), it was actually his way of agreeing with her. Of acknowledging that he felt the same.

“See you soon,” he said.

“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Try not to kill Hughie in the meantime.”

Butcher chuckled at that.

“No fucking promises there.”

The next morning, Helena woke slowly to the familiar feeling of fingers running through her long hair.

That was just a bit disconcerting, considering she’d braided it the night before. But she knew the hands that were caressing down her back, then reaching back up to drag soothingly through her hair.

It was a morning routine she’d sorely missed. But now she smiled as she turned and found the culprit. Butcher was there to greet her with a slight smile, exhaustion in his eyes.

She frowned sleepily. “Did you drive all night? You didn’t have to—”

Butcher interrupted her with a kiss. His beard scratched against her cheek, her chin, but she didn’t care. Helena pulled him down by his hair and divested him of his black jacket, followed closely by the rest of his clothes.

He did the same for her, helping her out of her tank top and flimsy sleep shorts and panties. Until he was hovering above her, finding his place in the cradle of her thighs.

He took a moment to brush her hair away from her face and sooth a thumb across her temple, her cheek, and down her bottom lip. Helena smiled up at him. He quirked a smile back and lowered down to press sensuous kisses where his hand had been.

He all but devoured her once he reached her lips, all while his hand moved down to cup her breast, eliciting a sigh as he rolled a pert nipple under his thumb.

She gripped his shoulders tight as his mouth moved down as well, to the soft mound of her other breast. His tongue circled and teeth gently scraped, making a shiver run down her spine.

“Getting reacquainted?” she couldn’t help teasing. Butcher chuckled against her skin. He released her from his lips and raised his head just enough to look at her.

“Gotta make sure they remember me,” he quipped. Helena laughed as his head lowered back down and pressed open-mouthed kisses between her breasts, down her stomach, and finally between her thighs.

She made room for him there, as she did in all areas of her life.

But even afterwards, they didn’t talk about what they’d each been doing for the past two weeks.

Or at least, neither one told the whole truth about it.

AN: So we're about to dive into season 3 in the next chapter! Get ready, it be a bumpy road to the finish line of this story...

Keep Reading: PART 15

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@lauraaan182 @homielander @calizmor @haibara-ai-tsii

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whitehotwild · 3 months ago

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OKAY!!! so these are the ex!butcher x reader/OC(?) x logan headcanons/sort of a prologue/brief outline of the story!

AN: PLEASE let me know if you'd rather read a 'x reader' story or an ‘OC x reader’ story!!!!

OKAY!!! so this will read like a canon divergence AU (aurbviously).

Butcher was never on the brink of fucking DYING from temp v, he never killed Victoria and he never got powers.

BUT he is spiraling, that mean part of his brain (kessler) has just sort of taken over and made him kinda lose grip on what actually matters, Butcher wants everyone with powers dead, but especially Homelander.

(I’ve kinda been thinking about actually making this post Homelander death, and THEN Butcher spirals way way way out of control wanting basically a superhuman genocide, let me know what you think about that)

ALSO, Supes and Mutants exist as two separate things in this universe. Supes came after Mutants because Frederick Vought realized that these superpowered beings could be capitalized upon, but he knew if he used mutants they might end up rebelling, so going about making his own Superhumans was a safer option in his mind. Mutants are born, Supes are made.

Mutants distance themselves from Supes, knowing they usually end up being more trouble than they’re worth.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters does not accept Supe students, they did for a while at the very beginning, but Charles quickly realized that, for whatever reason, Supes and Mutants just do not get along on most occasions.

OKAY!!! SO NOW THAT THE GEEK TALK IS DONE, HERE’S THE STORY DETAILS

You/OC were a college intern at Vought that Homelander had his sights set on. He sort of coerced you into a relationship/situationship that lasted for about a year and was quite was toxic (bc like… it’s homelander).

While that went on Butcher knew of you bc of how obsessively he kept tabs on HL.

Butcher was planning on killing you to hurt HL, but then when he realized things had ended he knew you’d be more use to him alive than dead.

you were recruited to The Boys around the same time as Hughie, maybe a bit before.

you and Butcher don’t get together until after Becca dies, at first you’re really just mostly a object of comfort and escape for him, it’s way more serious for you than it is for him.

very Casual by Chappel Roan vibes

very Sharpest Tool by Sabrina Carpenter vibes

BUT the longer you stick around the more genuinely attached Butcher gets

There’s this sweet spot from almost a year in to a few months before the end of your relationship, it lasts about 2 years itself, you and Butcher are together for nearly 3 years.

during that sweet spot Butcher starts meaning it when he says "i love you"

near the end of those 3 years is when Butcher starts to become utterly obsessed with the whole “taking down homelander/supe genocide” thing.

he gets meaner, not to you specifically, just in general. he’s less affectionate, doesn’t spend as much time with you, only really initiates intimacy when he wants it, otherwise kinda brushes off your advances.

anytime you try to bring up these issues or his recent behavior you’re quickly shut down with a firm, “Let it be, love.”

you start spending more time away from the apartment, outside of work you try to fill your time with either hanging out with friends or going to the bar.

one night, you’re out with Annie and a few of your other friends at a little dive bar uptown.

you wanna play pool but none of your friends want to play, annie suggests you just go ask someone.

you’re a few drinks deep, not enough to make you drunk, just enough to instill a nice coat of confidence around you.

so, you see this man sitting at the bar, leather jacket draped over the back of his barstool, a cigar in one hand, a glass of what you assume is probably whiskey sitting in front of him, and you have no problem going up to him.

you ask him if he wants to play a game with you, and at first he tries to shoo you off, but unfortunately for him, you’re persistent.

there’s an instant connection between the you and the man, who you learned is called Logan.

he tries to ignore whatever nice feelings you spark up inside him, he’s got this lone wolf thing going on and he doesn’t need you, this pretty young thing, coming along and ruining it for him… is what he tells himself.

you promised him at first that it would only be one game, but after he beat you, you demanded a rematch, and by the end of the night you had played at least a few games.

you say your goodbyes and Logan assumes he’ll never see you again because that’s just the way things go. he tries to ignore the soft pang of disappointment in him, brushing it off as one of those rare occurences where he actually does feel a bit lonely… he’d never say that out loud.

you come back at the same time exactly a week later, this time by yourself, after a long week of dealing with the brick wall Butcher has put between the two of you.

Logan tries to ignore the way his heartbeat picks up just a bit when he sees you, he’s almost a bit annoyed that you came back, he was just starting to shake the memory of you that he couldn’t seem to forget like how he can the others.

you play pool again and open up to each other, even if it’s just the slightest bit.

this becomes a weekly occurrence, you and logan become “friends” (more so acquaintances that hang out once a week only at the bar for a few hours).

ANYWAYS!!! i’m gonna stop here so i don’t just write the whole story in bullet format, but this is the basic outline of the first bit of the story. literally only gonna write this if people actually want to read something like this, and it’ll also take me a while because i’m in the process of moving SO, pleathe be patient for i am just a little guy.

#logan 𓂃⋆｡˚ ◌𓈒𖡼 #butch baby ౨ৎ #billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher the boys #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #james logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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nextgensquad · 5 months ago

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please check my next gen wip out if you like:

a mix of messy feelings, sweet romance, and comedy moments

kids (aka young adults) trying to figure their lives out

weasley/potter family meddling in each other's lives

established but by no means smooth or easy relationship

magical/muggle relationships

‘Good. Because I really need you for my birthday party. I know you don’t want to hang out with James, and I’m not saying you need to—I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want that either—’ ‘Yeah, I think that would be an understatement,’ Scorpius agreed. She rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him as she went on. ‘I’m just—I’m a bit worried about him, okay? I know he wants it to go well, but he hasn’t met any of my family or friends yet, and he doesn’t really know that much about my world. I’ve tried to prepare him, but he keeps saying he’ll be fine, and I don’t know if he’s really thought about, y’know, all the small stuff he doesn’t know.’ ‘Potter assuming he knows everything already and not really thinking things through? Sounds… completely unlike him, I don’t know why you’d even think that…’

chapter ix. hazel catches up with an old friend.

james sirius/oc

rating: t

#ours #fanfiction #becca #james sirius x oc

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sehtoast · 5 months ago

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No Time Like the Present [For a Present] - (parentified!OC, Ryan Butcher)

mild s4e7 spoilers, ben gives ryan a present, ben being the cool parent, ben x homelander, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

It’s a soft, breathy laugh that gives him away.

Ryan whirls around, picture frame held tight to his chest. He’s like a child protecting a toy he knows he shouldn’t have.

“Relax, buddy.” Ben says with a sympathetic smile. “I ain’t gonna take it from you.”

“I don’t–”

“And I’m not gonna tell your dad either. I’m not the Grinch, y’know.”

It’s a Christmas miracle in and of itself to see the boy’s eyes light up and a joyful grin settle into place. A real smile, not the ones he fakes for cameras these days.

Ben reaches out and ruffles Ryan’s hair. “He’s out anyway. Lemme see ‘em?”

Ryan tilts the frame his way and he takes in the full sight. Butcher, before becoming, well… Butcher, and Becca. His heart tugs at the sight of her, remembering the times they’d spoken. Back when he would help Ryan with his physics homework at the kitchen table while Homelander pouted over getting less of the boy’s attention. Ben always felt so terrible for how on edge Becca was around Homelander, but somehow she never seemed to hold it against the bug for being involved with him. Kind, caring, genuine…

Just like her son.

“You’re a good kid, y’know that?” Ben murmurs. His eyes sting and he looks up to find Ryan’s lined with tears as well.

For as much as the world has tried to rip it out of his chest, Ryan’s heart was practically made of sunshine. Ben’s already sworn up and down to whatever cosmic forces may be that he’ll preserve that light in the dark as best he can.

He sniffles and swats at his own fallen tears. “Man, Christmas is somethin’ else. I got one for you too.” He scans the mountain of gift boxes and fan packages, shooting a web at one in particular wrapped as if someone gave tape and paper to a jackass who’d never wrapped a present a day in his life. “Sorry about the outside. The day I figure out wrapping paper is probably the day the planet explodes.” He gestures for Ryan to sit, then hands it off.

As soon as he lifts the flaps on the box, Ryan goes silent.

Benjamin just waits while he processes it. It was no easy feat, and finding someone talented enough to both sculpt and paint it perfectly without anything more than a few satellite images and classified Vought records had been… well. The look on his face is all the bug needs to know it was worth it.

Ryan lifts it out and sets it on his lap, fingers running over the edge of the roof. He seems almost baffled at the intricacy of detail, right down to the mailbox at the edge of the lawn. “S’my old house…” He murmurs, thumbing gently over the front door step. “I almost forgot what it looked like.”

“Mm, well we can’t have you doing that.” The bug’s voice cracks with emotion. “I just– I figured you still do your legos and you could, y’know…”

By the time Ben’s gaze rises, Ryan’s already thrown himself into a hug, squeezing so tight the bug practically can’t breathe. Except he can, because he’s learned how to weather those embraces. It’s the same way Homelander hugs him when it’s all too much or when he needs a rock to cling to lest he become a castaway in his own sea of miseries.

“Sorry,” the boy mumbles as he pulls back. The shame on his face is the worst part. Watching him apologize every time he forgets his strength, becoming stronger with every passing day while the world remains unchanged, has been nothing short of heart wrenching. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Get back in here.” With a huffed laugh and a roll of his eyes, Ben pulls Ryan in for another hug. “You didn’t, and I know you never would.”

They spent some time chatting after Ryan hides the photo in his room. The clickety clack of VS5 controllers fill the air while they duel in Tournament of Heroes, and Ben groans as he loses for a fifth time. Things like this used to be his forte as a kid, but he’s probably in for another loss anyway.

But that was fine. Homelander would be back soon and the three of them could spend Christmas Eve together as a family. Even though that family is small and just a liiiittle bit messy, it’s still good.

“That makes six!” The boy hoots, rising to his feet with a beaming grin and excitement in his eyes. “I don’t think you’re cut out to play as dad’s character.” He teases.

Nevertheless, Ben picks him again.

Yeah. Still good.

#ryan butcher #the boys #homelander #i mean he's mentioned lol #homelander x oc #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader

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formulauno98 · 6 months ago

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A Birthday to Remember - Part One - Toto Wolff x Reader

Originally written as an OC, inspired by an amazing request from @latte-luxe, I have rewritten this to a Reader POV, no descriptions and no use of your name. The only brief description is of a butt (you can probably guess why).

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Caution may contain spice. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

THE MORNING

It was Saturday morning and stepping out onto your balcony at the Fairmont Monte Carlo, you swept your eyes over the spectacular view. It was a pinch yourself to check if you’re dreaming kind of view of sparkling blue waters, peppered every so often with a gleaming white yacht.

“Good morning, birthday girl.” murmured a husky, heavily accented voice from behind you. Before you even had the chance to turn around, a pair of muscular arms swooped around from behind, coming to rest on your hips, large hands gently squeezing your curves.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, turning around and leaning up to kiss your tall towel-clad Austrian companion, resting your hand on his bare chest as he pressed himself tightly against you. It was yet another pinch me I’m dreaming moment. If someone had told you this time yesterday that this was how you would be spending your Saturday morning you would have laughed and called them crazy, but sometimes life could be crazy.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

It was a sunny evening and you were standing out on the balcony with a glass of wine in your hand, gazing across the Mediterranean whilst waiting for your three best friends to get ready. As a lifelong Formula One lover, a weekend trip to Monaco had been on the cards for a while so when your friends asked where you wanted to go to celebrate your special birthday it was at the top of the list. Turning the dream into reality was another thing altogether and you still couldn’t believe that the trip had materialised. A trip had finally made it out of the group chat.

Dinner was due to be lowkey as Saturday was going to be the big night out, with dinner plans at Elsa, a Michelin-star establishment, followed by a night on the tiles at Jimmyz, a club frequented by the world of Formula One. Although you couldn’t afford to come for a race weekend, this was truly a bucket list trip and you hoped to catch a glimpse of some nice cars, the iconic track and if you were lucky maybe even a driver or two… A wild Charles Leclerc sighting in Monaco was like spotting Mickey Mouse in Disneyland.

Friday night’s restaurant of choice was Song Qi, an upscale Chinese restaurant in Larvotto that had come highly recommended. You were looking forward to seeing what made Monaco so special and couldn’t wait to hit the town.

“How long is the walk?” A voice called out from your suite.

“About five/ten minutes.” You replied, sighing, as always the mom of the group.

“Medium heels it is then,” your friend Olivia replied.

“We can always get a car,” you suggested.

“No, let’s conserve the taxi budget for tomorrow night,” Olivia said, stepping out onto the balcony to join you, “Laura and Becca are almost ready.”

“Good idea,” you replied, “You look gorgeous by the way.”

Olivia beamed with the compliment, stepping back to twirl in her pink minidress and sparkling sandals, “I try my best, although I can’t compete with you.”

You blushed, not used to the compliments. You’d chosen a simple white dress with gold sandals for the evening’s dinner, perhaps a risky move in a restaurant serving noodles but you felt fabulous. It wasn’t long before Laura and Becca also emerged, both looking as beautiful as ever. The four of you had treated yourselves to two adjoining suites and opened up the connecting door to create a mega-suite.

“Oh la la, give us a twirl,” you said, looking your elegant friend up and down as she dutifully spun around.

“Beautiful!” Now it was Laura and Becca’s turn to blush. “Ditto! Shall we get going?”

“Sounds like a plan.” you agreed, the four of you making your way off of the balcony.

——

Song Qi turned out to be an excellent choice, with the table weighed down with baskets of dim sum and bowls of noodles, crispy beef and endless wontons. The restaurant was decadent but comfortable and as you sank back into your sumptuous green velvet chair you spotted a strangely familiar face at the table across from you. He was dark-haired, handsome with chiselled features and although he was sat down, tall, as he towered above the two men he was dining with.

It took you a moment to realise that it was none other than Toto Wolff, the affable Mercedes Formula One team principal. Although you thought it was only for a moment, you must have stared for a while as he briefly met your eyes and shot you a charming smile. Smiling back like a fool, your friends whipped their heads around to see who you were smiling at, fortunately, Toto not noticing as he had returned to his plate.

“Damn girl, he’s kinda hot, in that old businessman kind of way,” said Olivia, turning back around to face you.

“Well yes…” you stuttered, “He’s also one of the team principals in Formula One.”

“Huh?” Asked your three friends blankly, not followers of the sport.

“Kind of like the equivalent of a football manager,” you explained, “Except he owns some of the team as well.”

“Fancy, well he’s pretty. You should go and talk to him.” Said Laura, all formula one facts going straight over her head.

“Oh my god, no,” you said, “I’m sure he was just being polite.”

As if on cue, Toto looked up and locked eyes with you once again, his deep brown eyes crinkling. You gulped, returning his gaze with a smile once again.

Dinner continued, with the girls chatting away as every so often you met Toto’s eyes across the crowded restaurant. He looked to be in some kind of business meeting as the two men with him were dressed smartly and looked serious while conversing with them.

It wasn’t long before dinner had been cleared and a smiling waiter emerged with a chocolate cake laden down with a sparkler and numerous candles, Olivia, Becca and Laura looking at each other mischievously before breaking into a rousing rendition of the Happy Birthday song. You felt your cheeks reddening as you realised the entire restaurant, including Toto and his business associates had joined in the song. As you blew out the candles, you once again locked eyes with Toto who was grinning away while applauding.

“You guys are the worst,” you said, half joking as you shook your head at your friends. “But that’s why I love you.”

“Aw, well we had to do something,” said Laura, “It’s not every day you have a big birthday like this and although I still don’t understand why you love your car racing so much, I’m happy that we came here.”

You smiled at your friends, appreciative of them enabling your desire to walk around the Formula One track and visit the car museum despite the fact they really weren’t interested. Just as you were musing how ironic it was that you’d even seen Toto Wolff, their waiter reappeared with a tray of drinks.

“Oh, I don’t think we ordered those,” said Olivia politely.

“Yes Madame, in fact, the gentlemen over there sent them alongside their birthday wishes.” The waiter replied.

You were floored, Toto Wolff had sent you birthday wishes. An interesting turn of events.

“Well, then that’s very nice of them,” said Olivia, as the waiter set them down, nudging you before adding, “You should go and say thank you!”

“Oh my God, yes, go!” Said Becca, egging Olivia on.

Sighing, but also buoyed by your friends’ enthusiasm, you relented, “I’m going to go but only to say thank you.”

Your three friends squealing with excitement, you took an extra sip of your drink for courage before standing up and sauntering over to where Toto and his associates sat. His interest piqued immediately as he noticed you making your way across the restaurant.

“Good evening, sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to say thank you for the drinks, it was very kind of you,” you said, a little too quickly due to nerves.

“Well, it’s not every day you celebrate a milestone like that.” Replied Toto kindly, standing up to hold out his hand to shake yours, “I’m Toto by the way, and this is Jean and Sebastian,” he gestured at the older gentlemen he was dining with.

Struck by the almost comical height difference you introduced yourself and looked up at the tall Austrian in front of you as he gripped your hand very tightly, “Nice to meet you all.”

The other gentlemen smiled politely, wishing you a happy birthday before picking their conversation back up. Toto, however, remained stood up, his eyes raking your curves. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Now you really were blushing, “You’re far too kind.”

“Not at all,” he said, “I hope you do not think this forward but would you like to join me for dinner one evening?”

Once again, your eyes widened, how was this man asking you out? Pulling yourself together, you knew you had to politely decline, you were here with your friends after all, “I would love to but unfortunately I’m only here until Sunday so I’m not sure if I’ll have time.”

Toto looked disappointed but pressed further, “Well then, how about a drink later this evening?”

Trying your best to stay calm, you tried to play it cool, “I’m not sure, it’s a girl's trip and I don’t want to ditch my friends, I really would love to though. Maybe can I get your number and text you once I’ve figured out their plans?”

“Understood,” replied Toto, looking down, gazing into your eyes with an unreadable expression, “It would be my pleasure, give me your phone.”

With that, you handed your phone to the tall Austrian in front of you who deftly punched in his contact. “Thank you, I’ll check in with the girls and let you know. I’ll leave you to your dinner for now but I hope to see you later,” you said with a smile.

Toto turned to glance at his dining companions who were still deep in conversation, and dropped closer down to your ear, keeping his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine, “It’s okay, I don’t think they missed me. I hope to see you later too.”

Looking up at Toto with a smile, you replied “I’m sure they did. See you, Toto.” As you turned back towards your table you glanced back over your shoulder and saw Toto’s eyes were locked on you as he returned to his seat. He was undeniably hot and as much as you always abided by the golden rule, chicks before dicks, this was special circumstances.

Sitting back down with your friends, they immediately leaned in to get the lowdown.

“What did he say? He didn’t take his eyes off of you!” said Laura excitedly.

“He just wished me a happy birthday… and asked me out,” you said blushing.

“No way!” exclaimed your three friends in unison.

“You’re going to go right?” said Olivia, looking at you in concern.

“I’m not sure, I don’t want to ditch you all for a man but equally he’s hot as fuck and it would only be for an hour or so.”

“An hour or so?” said Becca, raising her eyebrows, “I doubt this, but you should go, make it a memorable birthday!”

You looked over once again at where Toto sat, he was a striking man, pushing all of his success to one side. “What the hell, I’ll message him now. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Your friends squealed with excitement in unison.

You grabbed her phone and nervously began typing your message to Toto.

It’s all good for tonight, we’re almost done eating so I’m free whenever you are.

You could see Toto excuse himself and take out his phone, shooting a grin from across the restaurant before looking down to type a response.

Sure enough, your phone buzzed.

Perfect, so are we. Shall I meet you outside in ten minutes?

You replied excitedly, still not believing you were texting Toto Wolff of all people.

Sounds like a plan.

——

You were nervous but excited as you saw Toto and his associates pay their bill and head off, Toto shooting you a wink as he jostled his way out of the restaurant.

Settling their own bill, your group were close behind and as you exited the restaurant, sure enough, you saw Toto standing outside waiting, leaning casually up against a column.

Bidding your friends goodbye, you made your way towards your date for the evening. “Hi,” you said somewhat awkwardly, knowing that your friends were likely watching from where they were ordering a taxi to return them to the hotel.

“Hi,” he said, glancing down fondly, “How was your dinner?”

“So good!” you said, “How was yours?”

“It was okay, my dining companions weren’t as lovely as you but I think my evening is improving,” he said with a rakish grin.

You smiled, “You’re a charmer, Toto. Where were you thinking of heading?”

“I know a place a few streets behind, it’s not so fancy but they have an excellent selection of wine if you like it?”

Knowing that you were already a little tipsy, you were grateful that he’d suggested wine, “Sounds good to me, lead the way, Mr Wolff!”

Toto whipped his head around, “I never told you my surname.”

Feeling you’d made a huge error of judgement, you stuttered, Toto’s dark eyes intimidating you before you decided the best course of action was to fess up, “Well it took me a moment but I recognised you. Guilty as charged.”

Musing quietly, Toto’s expression softened, “So you know a little about me, tell me about yourself.”

As you made your way around the twisting streets towards the bar, you filled Toto in on your background, your blossoming career and your plans for the big birthday weekend. He was an engaged listener, asking you questions and interjecting with his own anecdotes. Certainly surprising for a man of his stature.

Soon enough you arrived at your destination, Toto taking the lead and speaking with the Maitre D’ who promptly led you to a secluded table towards the back of the bar.

Settling down on the chair opposite Toto, you were suddenly much more nervous.

“You look nervous,” Toto said, his eyes softening.

“Well, this is not how I thought my evening was going to pan out. The ruse is up in that I recognised you so I may as well tell you that we came to Monaco because I love Formula One.” you blushed furiously as your words tangled into one.

“Relax, so you know about Formula One?” he said, reaching across the table, taking your hand in his and tracing small circles with his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Well, probably not as much as you.” you laughed, breaking the tension and gazing into his eyes.

“You’d be surprised,” said Toto shrugging with a smirk. “I just got lucky.”

——

As the evening went on, you discussed everything under the sun, the wine helping you feel less awkward and forget who you were talking to. Toto was funnier than you expected and you spent half the evening giggling at his stupid remarks. He’d regaled you with stories of his travel adventures, driving mishaps and various other anecdotes, whilst you’d filled him in with tales of your own travels and some embarrassing childhood moments. You’d even bonded over your love of all things with an engine. Time had flown by and you didn’t want the evening to end.

“Ahem.” Your conversation was suddenly interrupted by a waiter, “Monsieur, Madame, I am sorry to say that we are closing in ten minutes. Can I take one last order?”

Knowing that you were well beyond tipsy, you shook your head, looking at Toto to check if he was in agreement. Looking somewhat bleary-eyed himself he shook his head as well, “Just the bill please.”

Soon enough the cheque had been settled and you found yourself once again wandering the moonlit streets of Monaco with Toto, this time your hand firmly encased in his.

“Where do you need to go?” Toto asked kindly, “I can drop you back.”

“I’m staying at the Fairmont,” you replied.

“It’s not so far, are you happy to walk?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

“Sure, it’s just up there,” you replied gesturing at the bend in the road where the hotel was perched, “As long as you can get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Toto, a dark look in his eye. “Remind me, when do you leave again?”

“Sunday afternoon,” you said sadly, wishing you were staying for longer.

“Well, you’ll have to come back next year for the Grand Prix,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Maybe if I rob a bank!” you said with a chuckle, “One day.”

“I don’t like to boast, but I might know someone who can get you in without having to resort to organised crime,” he said, laughing with a deep rumble.

“Oh really?” you said, turning to face Toto in the inky moonlight, “Is he nice?”

“Very,” said Toto, dropping your hand and placing his hands on either side of your waist, swaying slightly in his merry state.

Laughing, you stretched up to look Toto in the eye, “I’ll have to meet this guy, he sounds great.”

At that your lips met, Toto bending down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, the height difference making it slightly a challenge but one that neither of you seemed bothered by. As the kiss deepened, Toto began to run his hands down towards your perfectly rounded ass, squeezing gently as he found your curves.

Breaking apart for air, you glanced around, luckily there was no one in the empty street but you didn’t want to risk being caught making out in the street with a famous face and it being splashed across the tacky tabloids.

“Do you fancy a nightcap at mine?” you asked, looking up at Toto through your fluffy long lashes. As a rule, you never normally brought men back on a girls' trip but you decided tonight was a special circumstance.

Toto’s eyes lit up, “Well, I have heard the view is nice.”

You laughed, grabbing Toto’s hand once again and leading him towards the corner entrance to your hotel. As you crossed the lobby you had a sudden panic that Olivia was in your room, and as you made it into the elevator, sent a frantic text knowing your friends would still be awake, waiting for the post-date debrief.

Red alert, I’m bringing him back, please can you vacate?

Sure enough, the replies came back instantaneously.

Oh la la of course birthday girl!

Get it girl!

Knew it!!!!!

Smiling as Toto rested his hand on the small of your back in the elevator, you looked up at him before he once again swooped down to catch your lips with his.

The elevator dinged before things could get too heated but it didn’t stop Toto wrapping his arm tightly around your waist as the pair of you stumbled towards your room.

“Here we are,” you said, scrambling to find your keycard in your bag before popping open the door to unveil your impressive suite. Thankfully your friends must have tidied as the detritus from getting ready for the evening was nowhere to be seen.

“Nice,” said Toto before bending down once again to continue kissing you, turning you around to face him as you closed the door. Pressing you against the wall with his leg, he continued to deepen the kiss, his hands starting to explore more of your body.

“As soon as I saw you I knew I had to have you,” he said, his lips resting against your ear, his deep Austrian accent rumbling.

You gulped, you never would have thought it but his voice roused something deep within. Your lips stretching up and finding the crevice of his neck, you replied in a low voice, “Then have me.”

Toto needed no invitation, scooping you up into his arms, he carried you over to the bed, throwing you down before leaning over and continuing to kiss you, his strong arms either side, pinning you down.

Emboldened by his eagerness, you wrapped your legs around his thick torso, pushing yourself against him, not surprised to find a growing bulge. As he ground his hips into yours, he started to explore your curves with his large hands, ghosting your breasts and waist and reaching around to caress your ass once again.

Reaching up, you started to unbutton Toto’s shirt, exposing a surprisingly muscular frame. Impatient, he leaned up and divested himself of the shirt as well as the rest of his clothes, leaving him in nothing but boxers. You couldn’t help but smile at the view that greeted you as he once again lunged down to kiss you, this time, his hands making quick work of pulling your dress off, leaving you exposed in nothing but lingerie and heels.

“You are ridiculous,” he said, his eyes hungry with desire, gazing into your eyes and gently kissing your neck.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied breathily, your back arching in pleasure as Toto kissed his way along your neck and across your collarbone.

Melting into each other’s arms, you began to grind back against his now prominent hardness, feeling yourself getting more turned on by the second.

“Toto?” you asked, gasping for air, “Will you fuck me?”

Toto’s eyes lit up, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Smiling at each other, Toto reached down to unhook your bra, releasing your pert breasts, “Fuck,” he said, lifting his head to marvel at them, “Even better than I imagined.”

You blushed at his words, not used to such attention. Growing impatient you ghosted your hands down Toto’s abs, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“You’re an impatient little thing aren’t you?” he said, leaning back suddenly and hooking his arms underneath your legs, gripping your thighs and bringing you closer. “I want to taste you first.”

Gulping you leant back, allowing Toto to bring his mouth to where you needed it most. As his tongue lapped gently, he brought his hand along and began to stroke your clit, slowly but sensually.

It wasn’t long before you were writhing in pleasure, tugging Toto’s dark locks as he pumped a finger in and out, continuing to expertly lick.

“Toto, I want you in me,” you said, seeing stars as you were so close.

Pausing his ministrations, Toto was more than happy to oblige, kissing his way back up your torso as he replied, “I want to do everything with you.”

At that, you melted, the evening had turned into one that was beyond your wildest dreams. As Toto swiftly undressed you both, you gazed into his intense chocolate eyes as he slipped on a condom and began to line himself up, unsurprisingly intimidatingly big.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pushed in, slowly but surely. Gasping, you shifted to adjust to his size. True to his word, he took it easy and entered tantalisingly slowly, an inch at a time.

“Fuck, Toto.” you said breathily, “You’re so big.”

Smiling, he pulled back out before pushing in once more, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Not at all, it feels good,” you said, feeling pleasantly stretched in places you’d never felt before.

“Good,” he said with a grin as he began to thrust in and out lazily, continuing to kiss you.

It wasn’t long before you were a tangled mess of arms and legs, both nearing completion. “Fuck, Toto, I am so close,” you said, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Close isn’t good enough,” said Toto, smirking as he reached down and found your clit once again, his thumb circling gently as he continued to push in and out, speeding up.

“That feels so go…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as Toto hit the sweet spot with expert precision.

“Fu…” was all Toto managed as he thrust in and out a few more times, chasing his own high before collapsing on top of you, his body heavy.

“Ooff,” you said, crushed by the weight of the muscular man on top of you.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, flashing a shy grin as he rolled off to lie beside you.

“Well… that was not how I expected my birthday to turn out,” you said, feeling like you were in a dream.

Toto laughed, stretching a strong arm across your stomach to pull you in for a cuddle. “There’s still a few hours of your birthday left.”

Your eyes widened once more. This was certainly a birthday to remember.

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