#and the thing is that i can't blame her too much be she was raised spoiled and my dad spoils her so that's all she knows

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

Right so, I currently feel a very strong urge to cut open my stomach like Chef Hong, but let's put that aside for now and focus on all the new evidence that Peaceful Property is very much gay, actually:

(somehow in light of the end of this episode all of this feels so shallow but well, I got this far, I'm not giving up now)

1

Peach is wearing THE shirt. The infamous "more than friends less than lovers" shirt.

And as is usually the case when this shirt appears, it perfectly describes the current state of Peach and Home's relationship.

2

I'm not really attentive enough to analyse colours in these shows, but even I noticed that Home's shirt is pretty blue at the beginning of this episode

Looks like both of them are (not so) subtly expressing their feelings through their clothes this week

3

We didn't really get confirmation either way about Peach's relationship with Best. Though judging by this little interaction between them, if there was something between them, it was probably initiated by Best. He's full-body reaching more than half-way across the frame, trying to get Peach to fistbump him while Peach only half-heartedly raises his fist towards Best's a little. (I admit I might be somewhat biased against him because of Pangpang, but I almost get the vibe that he kinda tried to get close to Peach to siphon off some of Chef Hong's attention. So he was using him from the beginning, first for his cooking skills then for his exorcism skills. But tbf it might have also just been innocent excitement.)

Anyway look at Chef Hong frowning at their interaction. She knows this is not the right man for her son favourite student.

4

Home, deepely and sincerely, wants to help Peach.

As soon as he finds out about Peach's trauma his first priority becomes helping him, not selling the property and not exorcising the ghost.

He even goes all alone to meet the ghost of Chef Hong and asks her to help Peach.

This is kind of a parallel to the second episode where Home went to confront Rak alone (with Suradech and Kan) after Peach refused to help him anymore. Except this time he actually goes alone and instead of asking the ghost to leave so he can make some more money, he sincerely asks her to help Peach. Character growth. But also. Doing it for the guy he likes. And this is why he gets the mother in law approval and not Best.

But helping someone is not always easy, so:

This is the face of a man who's desperate to help the person he loves even if that person doesn't think he can be helped. And he's willing to play the bad guy to get him that help.

It so clearly hurts him to talk to Peach that way but he doesn't know what else to do.

And Peach is also hurt because he thought that he and Home had gotten close enough that Home would care about his wellbeing more than making money. And he's right, too because Home IS actually doing this FOR his wellbeing and NOT for money. Peach just doesn't know that, yet.

(Quick aside about Peach: Shouting at someone while clutching their shirt. That's 'I love you so please understand me' level of fighting)

Classic tragic romance shit (in preparation for later things to come?). Especially with their next conversation happening through a glass pane. (Star Trek anyone? and many more that I can't think of right now)

And Home gives him hope. Hope that maybe his mentor didn't kill herself, hat maybe he's not responsible for her death. And with that he gives him the strength to face his fear. Good (not yet) boyfriend.

5

It's love, your honor!

He litterally takes over the job of taking care of Peach from Peach's mother figure

and then holds him while he breaks down. And not only does he hold him, he PULLS HIM IN so Peach can cry into his shoulder.

And Peach lets himself fall apart in Home's embrace, to let out all of the grief and guilt he had been carrying mixed with the relief of realising it wasn't his fault she died, and she never blamed him for any of it.

(I know I've said it before but man, Tay and New are really blowing this out of the water. They're just so good. Everything about this show is just sooooooo good.)

6

Is that jealousy I smell, Peach?

Don't worry. Home has already admitted that he's flirting with Kan as a bit not with any real intention. The real is reserved for you.

7

He fully plans to give it to Peach, doesn't he? Simp.

8

Between all the real talk, raw emotions and vulnerability, they're right back to bickering and teasing each other.

9

Now there's a classic BL trope. (And also again a callback to Chef Hong taking care of Peach, making it even more meaningful.)

10

Its LOVE, your honor!!!

But seriously:

Peach has fully fallen in love with Home at this point. And how could he not, after Home fully proved his kindness and selflessness and care for Peach this week. Peach had already started to really trust and be comfortable around Home last episode, but with this he's fully brought down Peach's walls. (too bad it's going to end up hurting them both soon)

And Home knows it, too. Speaking it out while also giving the plausible deniability of a joke. And note how Peach denies on behalf of Kan but not of himself.

They're inching their way towards each other, neither of them willing to say it without beating around the bush but both of them fully aware of what's happening between them. (too bad there's a big storm coming for them that's going to wreck this puppy love bliss)

11

And this, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between and beyond,

is the face of realisation that you did irreconcilable harm to the man you love and you didn't even know it. That the man you love just said a most sincere and heartfelt "Thank you" to his killer. To you. That all your newfound happieness is about to come crashing down around you and it's all your fault.

Seeing them be happy and flirty in the credit scene hurt. Because how long will they still have this? And either way, any blissful moment from now on is going to feel hollow for Home. And Kan knows, too. Will Pangpang find out before Peach? Will Home get to tell Peach himself or will Peach have to find out from someone else?

Major angst is incoming and honestly? That's pretty gay. Silver lining and all that, I guess.

Anyway I don't want to leave us off at a complete downer so have a quick

Lesbian Corner

The focus was very much on Peach this episode and Kan was mostly off doing her own thing so there's not much but there is this:

Pangpang felt quite betrayed when Kan didn't take her side against Home. She's clearly aware that they should hook team up seeing as the boys are busy with each other.

Don't worry girl, you'll get there eventually.

[jasonntodd]

.

[insanermin]

how would it taste, and the way you move

summary: ellie takes you back to her place after patrol, letting you take a closer look at her tattoo but you find yourself eating her out instead.

warnings: not proof read, nsfw

"you thought that was off-putting?" you gasp and slowly chuckle at the sight of ellie's forehead forming wrinkles as she raises her eyebrows. "i mean, how would you like it if i went—" she scoots closer, her eyes searching for yours. inhaling sharply, she waits a second, or two, before she wiggles her head like a bobblehead. her mouth is wide open, she's screaming silently, only the air rolling over her tongue is audible.

"no way," you burst out into laughter, and she does too. suddenly the fairy lights over her couch seem much brighter, you notice the warm tones illuminating her face, shining onto the ridges of her scars. "so... how did you like that?" she rubs her shoulder, a scoff escaping underneath her breath.

"can you blame me though? i totally panicked when i saw that crack on your mask," apologetic eyes, how could ellie ever be upset with you? it might've not been the smartest thing to do, screaming at the top of your lungs while you just finished dealing with several clickers. she just thought it was sweet that you cared for her, although anyone would react the same way, but for some reason she likes to read more into your actions. no specific reason, she just had a soft spot for you, that's what the auburn-haired woman would tell herself when she would lay awake at night thinking of you.

"guess i owe you a more throughout explanation then," she says, her mind overly aware of the fact that your shoulders are touching. you tilt your head towards her in anticipation, exposing the skin on your neck. her eyes trace the way the light is illuminating you, from your nose bridge to your jaw, down to your collarbone all the way to your shoulder.

ellie shuts her eyes close once, inhales and exhales deep twice. she watches your eyes wander down to her forearm closely as she rolls up the sleeve to expose her tattoo. you've always been curious about seeing it up close, you couldn't lie about the fact that you thought that it made her insanely attractive. objectively, of course.

"you see this?" her soft tone pulling you out of thought. she tilts her head, eyes lingering on yours. green eyes, you want to get lost in them. you scrunch up your face at that thought, you're not supposed to have thoughts like these, you tell yourself. you squint, trying to see what she's pointing at. "hold up," ellie reaches out for your hand, but she stops herself. "can i?" she asks, you nod.

the second the tip of her fingers touch the back of your hand, it sent shivers all over your skin. your body couldn't deny what your mind has been trying to any longer.

she gently makes you form a fist, pressing every finger of yours down leaving out your index finger. her thumb glides over your palm as she wraps her fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand softly towards her forearm for you to feel. it was mesmerizing watching her put so much care into such a simple action that it made you become self-conscious over the speed of your heartbeat and the heat creeping up your face.

you avert your gaze rapidly towards her tattoo, feeling the textured parts of her skin.

"oh," it escapes your mouth, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you didn't mean to, your mind was racing. "yeah, i was bitten, it looked like shit," she chuckles, her eyes focused on the back of your hand. "but i covered it up, pretty neat, huh?" ellie continues, as she slightly twists her forearm to the left and right underneath the fairy lights. "yeah, you look really good,"

"i do?" ellie blushes. she can't read too much into it, but it's already too late. the words have left your lips already, you can't take it back, you're visibly embarrassed.

but seeing her reaction, seeing her freckles drown in the pink of her cheeks, maybe it wasn't so bad. perhaps you really didn't mind seeing her get all flustered like this over a singular compliment. and while your mind begs you to pull yourself together, you've been dying to know what it felt like to let your guard down for once.

"yeah, i think you look really good," you repeat once more, carefully watching her. "thank you," her voice is low and soft, she can't ignore her racing heart any longer. just a soft spot, but was that really it? why would ellie's heart jump at you finding her decent?

"you're really pretty too," she says, inching a little closer. she holds her breath, anticipating your reaction. but she couldn't see coming that you were reaching for the side of her cheek, cupping her face in your hand. you've been wanting to do this, wanting to close the distance, you wanted her and she did too. and as the fairy lights emit the warmth coming from your bodies, you lose yourself in short, desperate kisses.

her hands searching your body, eyes adoring every inch of your skin, something ellie dreamed of each night she couldn't sleep and every time she's been on patrol with you, she couldn't help but wonder what's been hiding underneath those clothes of yours. undressing you, that's all she could think of and you could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers dragged over the only skin that was exposed. but you've been craving for her more, so you push her gently against the armrest of the couch, the auburn-haired woman was quivering under your touch already.

"you seem so tough, but i know," you whisper as you gaze down on her. "you know what?" she looks up to you through her lashes, fuck did she look pretty.

"i know how soft you are," you go on, as you play with the rim of her shirt. you feel her skin heat up, she's looking away, inhaling deeply while in thought before her green eyes pierce through you and waver your confidence. "if you start something now," she begins, while adjusting her body to place her veiny hands on your waist. "it's gonna be hard to stop me," she continues, gaze lingering on you. you hold her hands on your waist and move them up to your face, still holding them. you've let your guard down already, and the way she's been looking at you has left you throbbing, so you weren't going to stop here.

"keep up then," you say as you make ellie slightly part her legs to allow space for your knee in between, her soft lips are on yours.

ellie has been dying to know what you've tasted like. but your knee being dangerously close to her pussy was distracting her, she wanted more, she wanted for you to actually touch her. her arms around your neck, you begin to undress her while dragging your lips down her neck all the way to her sternum.

"fuck, they're gorgeous," you exhale as you cup her tits. you squeeze and knead, making her inhale sharply. ellie winces and a little noise escapes her mouth, enough to drive you crazy. you accidentally shove your knee in between her legs as you lean forward to pull down her pants and watch her bite down a moan, fuck, you want to go crazy on her. but you have to hold back, you tell yourself. not until her panties reveal the wet spot that her pants have been hiding.

"is this okay?" you ask, she nods hastily. you tease her swollen lips through the fabric, making her move her hips desperately to feel more. "so you're just gonna tease me?" ellie says breathlessly. you get on your knees, move the fabric to the side and spread her lips, exposing her clit. "you look so pretty like this," you whisper over her clit, making her grab onto your hair. she couldn't take any of this teasing any longer, ellie desperately wanted for you to make her feel good, to eat her out. her clit has been throbbing ever since you've been here, craving your touch.

how could you resist when ellie was this wet for you, when she's been squirming and tugging your hair, you've never seen this side of her. you drag your tongue over her clit, all the way up and then back down, curving your tongue slightly into her hole.

"fuck, more," ellie moans, thighs squeezing your head as she throws back hers, she felt the sensation all over her body. she's so wet, sucking on her clit makes you have to swallow, but you absolutely love the way she tastes. you let your tongue circle around, just a little more.

"please, if you just—" you go right over her cunt, tugging her between your lips, curving your tongue up and down while putting more pressure on her clit. ellie grabs your hair and moves her pelvic floor like crazy, the way you were eating her out makes her feel like she just ascended, she wants to go higher, she wants you to take her there.

her moans and grunts only turn you on more and more. she sounds so pretty that you want to keep her all to yourself but you knew she wasn't yours to have.

"you make me feel so good, please keep going," the auburn-haired woman begs, the desperation oozing out from her voice. it didn't matter if she wasn't yours to have, all that did matter is that she wants you know, she's been screaming and moaning your name, trembling at your touch, rolling her eyes back at the feeling. you're the one in control, and you're surprised she even let you. she might not be yours, but no one knows that ellie enjoys being taken care of, that she enjoy you taking care of her. and so she moans your name as she cums into your mouth, she's been so wet that her juices have covered your whole lower half of your face and you loved every second of it.

you get up but stay close, her eyes are searching for yours. you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a kiss, she looks so pretty like this, illuminated by the lightening. her freckles are so pretty, you don't want to leave yet. but were you ready to be bold?

"you wanna wash up and grab something to eat?" you ask, your voice low, what if she rejected you? a grin spreads over her lips. "we could get high and watch something too," ellie adds as she plays with your hair. "sounds good to me," you say, kissing her cheek.

a/n: hey sorry for lying that i'm gonna drop a part two of something i wrote a month ago im sorry i lie alot but here's reader eating ellie out i hope that's good enough LOL

[mazamba]

Baby Steps

Dani slurped her milkshake noisily as she shifted back to the visible spectrum, interrupting the argument between the so-called adults. It'd been a hectic week, she'd been part of Young Justice for less than a week, yet they already had a crisis in the form of a maybe-evil clone.

"Do you mind?" growled Batman.

"Try a different word."

Superman raised an eyebrow.

""Father" is too heavy, try "brother" instead," she continued, "I mean, Phantom's technically my dad, but I don't call him that. He's my 'cuz!"

"What we call each other isn't the problem."

"No, but it's less scary isn't it? Danny was fifteen when I met him. Imagine if I'd called him dad. He'd have freaked out!"

Batman nodded, seeing the logic.

"And even then, I kinda needed some time to put my head together, you know?" she rattled on, floating crisscross applesauce in midair like a balloon in the breeze, "It's the real reason I left the first time. Maybe some time apart would be good for them? Microdose in family!"

"What we call each other isn't even half of the problem," sighed Superman, "you're a clone too, right? You once told me it was weird to know things you didn't remember learning. Clones are made and programed, sometimes with sleeper programming."

"True, but that's what we're here for," she figured, "I mean, I can't take you on, but Superboy's a different story. If he does go nuts, he has the whole Junior League to take care of him."

"I can't ask you to put yourself in danger."

"You're not, I'm volunteering," figured Stray, finally floating down to the ground, "look, Phantom and I work because we took the time to figure out who we are to each other. You two need time to figure out what you are, not get shoved together and hope for the best."

Batman grunted.

"This is a shock, it was a shock for Danny too. Sa- A mutual friend told me he had a panic attack an hour after I left. Started looking into childcare and stuff. She had to stop him from running after me with a diaper bag and they both crashed into a tree. Tu- a different friend sent me a picture."

"Your point?" sighed the Bat.

"I just said it? Forcing things helps no one. Just... put them in general proximity of each other and let the cards lay where they may. I know what you want to help Superboy, but forcing them into a get along shirt is just gonna hurt them both. You have to think of Superman too."

"And if he does go rogue?"

"Then we stop him."

"That easy?"

"That easy."

Superman sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole situation was a lot less scary by simply changing the word. And what Stray said made sense, in a roundabout sort of way.

For his part, Batman was mentally kicking himself for hyper-focusing on Superboy's needs without taking Clark's feelings into consideration.

"We'll go with your plan," he agreed, "Superman, I'll need you to have a word with Black Canary. She will mediate with you and Superboy whenever you wish to meet, but I need you both to agree to this before we move forward."

"And if we can't?"

"Then he'll have to get adopted into somewhere else," figured Dani, sitting in midair again, "nothing good will happen if we just dump him on you. Neither one of you deserve what happened."

---

I'm sick of people dumping on Clark. Considering how he and the others live, I can't blame him for being suspicious.

Some other guy got replaced by a clone that didn't even know he was a clone. It wouldn't be that weird for Connor to have sleeper programming.

If anything, this is on Batman and the others for trying to force a relationship.

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[alchemistc]

i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

[luveline]

hi can i request girl dad!aaron 🥺🥺 i am such a sucker for him, anything would be amazing thank you so much <3

hope this is okay!! —you have big news for your small family. 1.5k pregnant!mom!reader

When you first married his father, you weren't expecting Jack Hotchner to like you very much. Losing his mom so young, you wouldn't have blamed him for resenting you, or even hating you. You were like a stranger in his home. 

Things are different now. Jack lays in your lap with his head on your shoulder, and maybe he's a little too old for such a coddling cuddle, but who really cares? You love him and you love holding him, and if he wants some extra comfort tonight you're happy to give it. Plus, you have something you've been meaning to tell him.

“He doesn't have real headlights, did you know?” Jack asks. “They're just stickers.” 

You raise your brows at the car on screen. “No kidding.” You brush your fingers through his hair. He's blonde like his mom, though that blonde has turned brown the older he gets. 

“Race cars don't have headlights.”

“They don't need them,” you say. Jack smiles at you shyly and leans into your neck, clearly pleased. 

You're very, very glad that you ended up being someone he loved. It's a privilege to get to look after him, and to be his step mom. In the same way you're lucky to be Aaron's partner and Jane's mom, too. 

“Think dad's made dinner?” you ask. 

“No, he's probably just talking to your sister.” 

Yes, well. You can't blame him, nor would you want him to stop. He talks to Jane like she understands, and Jane, not even two years old, nearly brand new to the world, soaks him in. You can hear him if you strain, the dulcet cadence of his voice under the steady hum of the dishwasher. 

“That's okay, sweetheart, don't get upset,” he's saying, “it's okay. Come here, I've got you.” 

Jane starts to cry. You and Jack give one another the look, apprehensive in hoping it won't turn into a full blown melt down. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. “Sorry, where did you put her other pacifier?” 

You kiss Jack's hair. “Sorry, bub. Wanna come with me?” 

Jack wants to stay and watch Cars. You wrap him in a throw blanket and make your way into the Hotchner kitchen, where Aaron rifles through the drawers and cabinets with Jane held snugly to his chest. “I know,” he says, “I know. I'll get it.” 

You nudge him aside. You only know where the spare pacifier is because you put away the wooden spoons last night and pushed it back. You fish for it, a ladybug made of glittery red plastic, and Jane's crying slows as soon as you pull it free. She grizzles while you rinse it, but she settles when you hand it over. 

“This is not the best, is it? The pacifiers?” you murmur. 

“She dropped her other one and it rolled under the oven. And no. Not ideal.” He pats her back gently. “As long as she stops before she gets her big teeth, she'll be okay.” 

“Do you think it's a comfort issue?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. You worry about stuff like this constantly, but he knows kids are more hardy, and he isn't worried. “Sorry for making you get up.” 

He hates when she cries; he may see his kids as a hardy bunch, but he takes their upset as a personal failure half the time. His concern for her overrides his concern for you, but in a few weeks that might change. You can't imagine him calling you to find something again when your stomach is round as a honeydew. 

You've been meaning to tell him about that, too. 

You're not secret-keeping immorally, he does want another baby, but you've been having a little bit of fun. He's gone on cases so often lately that he hasn't been able to keep track of you, or your doctor's appointments.

You watch him with Jane, and you think about him with Jack, and you know he's going to be happy. He's told you as much before. 

“My poor girl,” he says, covering the back of Jane's head with his hand and pulling her under his chin. He looks as fine as ever, tall, dark and handsome to a fault. Jane's lips smack as she sucks and digs her teary cheek into his chest. 

You can feel his gaze on you. “Is now a good time?” he asks. 

You shrug. “For what?” 

“To tell me what you're not telling me.” 

“Oh, busted,” you croon, aiming for his shoulder. 

You do as Jane had and press your cheek to his front, your eye forced shut. 

“What do you think it is?” you ask. 

He makes a strange noise. You can practically hear the possibilities for your secret running through his head. His birthday is vaguely soon, so that's what he'll settle on first. But Aaron likes to disregard the obvious as most people do, only circling back to it when there's no other lead to follow. 

“How big of a secret is it?” he asks, rubbing Jane's back diligently. She makes a happy sound, and for a moment he forgets his plight to kiss the top of her head. 

You speak quietly, carefully, because it is big, huge news. “The pamphlets say it’s about the size of a strawberry.” 

He puts his cheek to Jane's head softly, looking at you in confusion. A second, another, and his eyebrows start to relax, rise, a smile on his lips like it's too good to be true. “You are?” he asks in surprise.

Jack appears in the doorway with the throw blanket trailing behind him. “Y/N, when are you coming back to watch TV?” 

“Jack, lovely, come here. I have something to tell you,” you say. 

Aaron grabs your wrist. When you meet his eyes, he squeezes gently. “You're sure?” he asks. 

“The doctor seemed pretty certain, handsome.” You lower your voice as Jack comes to stand in front of you. “Are you happy?” 

“Happy about what?” 

You put your hand on your stomach cautiously, worried about Aaron and how quiet he's being, and if it's as okay to tell Jack as you'd thought, but that action is what gets him. “I love you,” he says quizzically, as though his being happy is totally dependent on the fact. “Of course I'm happy. This is the best secret you could've kept.” 

“About what?” Jack asks, patting your arm. 

You bend down just a bit to see his face properly. “It's a secret you can't tell anyone for a while, okay? The only people who can know for now are me, you, and dad.” 

“Can I tell Jane?” he asks. 

“Yeah, buddy, you can tell your sister,” Aaron says. 

You peer at him from the corner of your eye, both concerned and pleased to see the wetness ringing his waterline, and the tenderness with which he holds Jane close, his thumb rubbing little circles into her back. 

“I'm going to have another baby,” you say. 

Jack's jaw drops. “Right now?” 

“No, not right now! You still remember last time?” you ask with a laugh, taking his shoulders into your hands. 

“You were crying and shouting for dad to hold your hand.” He pokes your stomach. “So it's like Jane?” 

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. For now, it's just a tiny baby.” 

Jack wants to see your stomach. He's expecting a much bigger bump than you have to offer, but you explain that eventually it'll get bigger again, and he seems quite pleased. Aaron makes sure to give him a hug and ask him if he's okay, to which Jack says, “Yes, but can we have a brother this time?” 

You rub the soft top of your stomach. “I'll see what I can do, Jack.” 

Aaron commandeers your attention, kissing you more times than you can count. You don't think you've ever seen him this happy now the reality has truly set in, asking Jane in his murmur, “Do you want to be a big sister?” 

She gurgles around the pacifier, leaving drool in a line down his chest. 

“I know, honey. I'm excited too. Let's clean you up, mm? And make mommy a cup of hot cocoa…” He narrows his eyes at you. “Would you sit down?” 

“I'm only ten weeks, I'm fine.”

“She's keeping secrets from me, and now she won't do what I'm asking,” he says to Jane. “Can you believe it? Anyone would think mommy doesn't like me as much as she claims.” 

You kiss his cheek. “M'having your baby, Aaron, again.” 

“That is a compelling argument.” He wipes Jane's cheek. “What do you think? Should we forgive her?” Jane laughs. He smiles at you, lovesick. You're not sure who for. “I guess we're letting you get away with this one, sweetheart. But no more secrets.”

“None,” you promise. 

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Hearts in Sync, Tires on Track

I'm sorry I have hit the deleted button 😢 and so I have to repost this one. This was based on a request of a reader @pear-1206, so sorry that your request message was also being deleted.

But yeah, here it is. Hope that you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I did. Also, if you have any requests please feel free to hit my dm, I appreciate it very much. If not then send me some of your love and support through that reblog and like button. Love ya alllll!  🫶🏻

Toto Wolff's wife and son, Y/n and Jack were in the garage, watching the race with bated breath. The atmosphere was tense, as nothing seemed to be working for George and Lewis. Toto's wife watched her husband's face, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, the deep furrow between his brows. She knew how much he was struggling, trying to figure out a way to turn things around for the team. Her heart ached for him, wanting nothing more than to ease his worries.

As the race continued, the tension in the garage grew thicker. She and Jack glued to his side, watching him anxiously. Toto's eyes flicked back and forth between the monitors, his fingers flying across his laptop as he tried to find a solution, anything that could help the team's chances. Toto's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and strategies. His eyes scanned the monitors, searching for any glimpse of improvement from his drivers. As he pondered the various scenarios, his hand subconsciously went to his own wedding band, his fingers toying with it gently. Meanwhile, in the garage, Y/n sat with Jack, trying to keep a brave face despite her worry. She was struggling to keep her own anxiety in check, her mind constantly going back to her husband. Every now and then, she found herself twisting her wedding band around her finger, a silent prayer for his wellbeing.

The race was over, but the results had not been what he had hoped for. His heart was heavy with disappointment, and his mind raced with thoughts of what he could have done differently. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door, and he looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway. Her face was filled with concern, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and love.

Toto's heart skipped a beat as he saw her. In that moment, all his worries and stress seemed to melt away, at least for a moment. He held out his hand, a silent invitation for her to come closer. She walked over to him, taking his hand and sitting down on the edge of his desk. For a moment, they were silent, simply taking comfort in each other's presence. Finally, Toto broke the silence. "It didn't go well," he said quietly, his voice low and strained.

Y/n nodded, her fingers gently rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. "I know," she murmured softly. "But you did everything you could. You always do." Toto let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't enough," he replied. "I should have done more, I should have thought of something..." His wife reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Stop," she said firmly. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You work too hard, you worry too much. You need to let go sometimes." Toto looked up at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guilt. "I can't," he said quietly. "I'm responsible for this team, for everyone who is now working at Brackley also. If I don't worry, who will?"

His wife chuckled softly, her thumbs stroking his cheeks fondly. "That's exactly what I mean," she said with a smile. "You're too dedicated, too determined. You forget to take care of yourself." Toto let out a huff of breath, his lips twitching into a small smile. "And who's going to take care of me, hm?" he teased, a hint of the old spark returning to his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Who do you think? Me," she replied, her tone playful. "Someone has to keep you from working yourself into the ground." Toto chuckled, the sound low and heartfelt. "You did a good job of it," he admitted.

As they were all laughing at his words, Toto's door creaked open, and they both looked up to see their son, Jack, standing in the doorway. The young boy's face was pinched with worry, his eyes taking in the sombre atmosphere of the room. "Papa?" he asked tentatively, his small voice breaking the silence. Toto's heart clenched at the sight of his son. "Hey, buddy," he said, mustering a smile. "Come here."

Jack hesitantly stepped into the room, his eyes flicking between his parents. Toto reached out a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. "Don't worry, everything's alright," Toto said, trying to keep his voice steady for his son's sake. "Just having a bit of a tough day, that's all." Jack slowly made his way over to them, stopping beside his father. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "We'll figure things out," he assured him, his voice gentle.

Y/n nodded in agreement, her fingers once again toying with her wedding band. "Papa's right," she said firmly. "We always figure things out. We're a team, remember?" Jack looked up at his dad, his eyes wide. "Us?" he asked, his voice small. Toto chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "Yeah, me, mama and you. We've been a team for a long time, haven't we?"

Jack seemed to accept this, his expression relaxing slightly. He leaned into his mother's side, resting his head against her shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had happened that day hanging heavily in the air. Toto could feel the presence of his family, their love and support grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone.

[the-offside-rule]

Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Picturesque

Requested: nope

Warnings: an undeniable feeling of being single

Oscar and Y/n had finally managed to take a well-deserved vacation, escaping to a secluded seaside town where the pace of life was slower, and the views were breathtaking. They had chosen a hotel that Lando had recommended due to how secluded and private it was and since the couple desperately needed some time to be intimate with one another, they obviously looked into it. The hotel was perched on a cliff, with a balcony that offered panoramic views of the ocean.

"I'm so tired. I didnt realise how much I needed to relax." Y/n chuckled as she slumped down on her chair. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, the couple decided to not go to the hotel restaurant for dinner and instead sat across from eachother on their balcony, with some room service. Oscar couldnt take his eyes off his beautiful girlfriend as a gentle breeze rustling through Y/n's hair. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks below was soothing, creating a perfect backdrop for their serene moment. Oscar simply hummed in response as he reached for his Polaroid camera, a recent gift from Y/n. He loved how it captured moments instantly, freezing them in time. He turned to Y/n, who was gazing off into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Her face was softly illuminated by the fading sunlight, and her freckles seemed to glow.

Without a word, Oscar raised the camera and snapped a photo. The familiar whirr and click of the Polaroid brought Y/n back to the present. She turned to him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes as the photo developed. The small polaroid slid out,before Oscar began to shake it slowly. "Youre obsessed eith thag thing." She chuckled, leanjng across the table. "I mean it takes great photos. And I thought you looked pretty so I thought I'd make you my muse." Y/n felt her cheeks heating up from the compliment. "This trip is making you so sappy, babe." Oscar shrugged and looked ag the photo. "Look at this." He said softly. Y/n walked around the table and sat on his lap, looking at the photo. "You look so effortlessly beautiful. Your freckles are perfect."

Y/n took the photo and gazed at it, her heart swelling with affection. In the picture, she appeared peaceful and content, a small smile tugging at her lips as she stared at the horizon. "It's beautiful." She murmured, her voice filled with emotion. Oscar leaned in closer, his eyes reflecting the same warmth and love that filled Y/n's heart. "Just like you." He whispered, planting a gentle kiss onto her cheek. Y/n reached for the camera and got up quickly, a playful glint in her eye. "Your turn." She declared. She pointed the lens at Oscar, who was now gazing at her with a look of pure adoration. She pressed the button, capturing the moment forever.

As the photo developed, Y/n couldn't help but smile. There was Oscar, his eyes locked onto her, a look of undeniable love and devotion etched across his face. She handed him the photo, her heart fluttering. "Look at you." She said, mimicking his earlier words. "You can't take your eyes off me." Oscar chuckled, taking the photo and examining it. "Can you blame me?" He replied, his voice thick with affection. He grabbed the photo of her. "Just look at the view."

Oscar opened his phone case and placed the picture inside gently. “I love it too much. Im keeping this close for when I miss you.” Y/n simply looked at him, a bright smile on her face. “I was thinking the same thing.” Y/n followed suit, carefully sliding the Polaroid into the backs of her phone cases, ensuring it was protected but always visible. The pictures became their little secret, a reminder of this perfect evening and the love they shared.

[noroi1000]

can I have satosugu with fem!reader one shot?

both of them got into a heated argument with her because she’s very clingy, and they’re in a silent treatment for days

until they realize how insecure she got and they try to make it up

if you could, make it a hurt/comfort thing :))

Too Clingy

Summary: Your boys were pissed. Enough of your touch. You didn't want them to be mad at you all the time. You didn't want this. And if they don't want your touch, you won't give them what they don't want.

A/N: I did it to make it at least a little sad... I don't know if I succeeded, but I think it turned out to be quite good angst.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Angst

You agreed to let your boys make dinner today. But that was the day you felt like touching a lot.

You wanted their touches, kisses and hugs.

You loved it when they were close.

But they probably weren't in the mood that day... What happened hurt your heart...

Why did you have to agree that they would make dinner themselves that day? Why on this particular day did you want to be touched so much and they didn't?

They were definitely pissed after work. Their work as a sorcerer is tiring and often irritating. But you didn't expect their rejection...

As you walked over to Suguru who was cutting something in his purple apron, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek into his back to feel his warmth.

He raised his hands when you grabbed him. And he spoke.

"(y/n), I'm cutting with a knife." He told you to understand that because of you he could hurt himself.

"Oh, sorry." you said, pulling away slightly and keeping your hands on his hips, cuddling into his side.

He sighed and his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked at all the produce he still had to cut.

Watching his slow movements, he doesn't say anything, just feeling his warmth. You reached for his rolled-up sleeve at the elbow and tried to fix it.

But when he pulled his hand lightly, he stopped his hands above the cutting board.

"(y/n)..." he sighed once again, looking at your fingers without smiling. "Not now..."

"Sorry, I just wanted to fix your sleeve." you spoke before you moved away from him, rolling his sleeve properly to keep it from falling any lower.

He started cutting again, speeding up his movements.

You slowly hugged him, making him sway slightly and stop his hands with a loud sigh.

He moved away from your hands, moving away from his warmth and body.

He started doing his job again until you rubbed the back of his neck lightly, picking up the stray hairs that had fallen out of his bun.

He placed the knife on the board loudly, making you startled.

"(y/n)! Please, not now." Realizing that he had said your name louder than he intended, he spoke the next words with a slightly lowered tone of voice.. But still firm. "Not now... I still have a lot to chop. Let me do it. Don't disturb me, please."

... You disturb him...?

Memories of moments when you cook together appeared in your mind, and either you blame them or they blame you. Even while cooking.

But...

You're disturbing him. It's understandable that he can't do anything quickly because you're interrupting him.

You looked at him for a moment before lowering your eyes to the cabinet next to you, smiling slightly.

"...fine... Sorry..." you muttered softly before walking away. And a moment later you heard cutting sounds again.

You saw Satoru sitting in a chair, reading the recipe for the sauce he was preparing. Or rather, he looked at the additives that he still needs to add to the pot. You walked up to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, waiting for his reaction.

They must have been irritated after the meeting with their superiors. But they agreed to cook dinner...

"Baby, After cooking the sauce, do you still need to put it in the oven? What's wrong with this recipe?" he laughed. And that showed that he accepted you touching him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you placed your chin on his head as you stood behind him.

"(y/n), I have to-." he paused, looking at Suguru who was almost finished.

In a moment he had to get up and you were almost lying on his back. It wasn't an ideal position for him to cook.

And also, the fact that you're snapping at him at the wrong time irritates him a bit. He has to keep time. And when you're on his back, he won't be able to get up.

"(y/n), move away. I have to get up." He said seriously and quickly pushed the chair back.

Out of curiosity, you walked over to the pot and watched as his fingers grabbed the spoon and he began to stir.

As he stirred calmly, you placed your hand on his elbow with a smile.

"Smells good."

Your enthusiastic words were ignored as he pulled his hand from yours and moved away.

You automatically moved closer because he wasn't moving and was standing in the same place, stirring and slightly cooling the sauce.

And when you touched him again, he spoke.

"(y/n), out of the way." He said firmly, lightly pushing your hands away with his elbow and walking past you to the sink.

You're disturbing. Out of the way. Are you irritating them today? Does the fact that you want to touch piss them off?

You turned around, watching them continue doing their thing.

"(y/n), we are busy. You do not see? You can't just come up to us and touch us when we're doing something that could hurt us!" he said as he poured the hot sauce into another pot.

You're pissing them off, aren't you?

"Satoru is right. Do not do this. We're trying to make dinner as soon as possible, but you're in the way. Do something else, but don't get in our way for now. Understand." Suguru added.

The fact that they told you that you were bothering them hurt you.

Well, they have been often irritated for some time now. Especially in moments when you want touch from them.

They don't like it anymore, do they?

They have always loved touch. But that has changed now, hasn't it?

"...I don't want to disturb you... I thought a light touch would do nothing-."

"Did you know that in the kitchen, a slight slip can cause injury?"

They interrupted you.

"Stop hugging us all the time. Now we are often busy and it distracts us..."

You looked at the floor with a sad expression on your face.

Are they scolding you for wanting love?

"Sorry..." you said lightly and walking far behind them, you left the kitchen, still hearing their words.

"What happened to her? She's too Clingy now, isn't she?"

"She just doesn't understand that we can't always hug her."

You closed the bathroom door, gritting your teeth.

You looked at yourself in the mirror from a distance.

What did you do wrong that they don't want you around?

Maybe they don't want touch from you? Maybe you wanted too much?

Or maybe something is going wrong between you?

They were never mad at you. Until now, when they made it clear they didn't want you there.

Or maybe they are having a bad day and are oversensitive?

Maybe if you cuddle with them at night, everything will be fine?

An hour later, as you sat in the chair with your phone, Suguru said dinner was ready.

You had your seats at the table.

You always sat on one side of the table with Satoru. And Suguru was sitting on the other side, across from you.

Today was different.

You sat down in Suguru's seat and pushed the prepared plate slightly to the side so you weren't sitting straight across from them.

Even though they might have been confused by the sudden change of seats and you moving away a bit, they sat down next to each other and started eating.

You felt cold on both sides of your arms because no one was sitting next to you.

But everyone needs some space, right?

Even though they may want a break from touch now, they may want to be close to you again later, right?

____

You didn't hear them speak to you for two hours.

You thought they wanted space for a little while.

But they were sitting on the couch together. So close to each other and they were talking.

Satoru lazily laid on top of Suguru, looking at the TV.

Normally you would go up there and say that Satoru looks and acts like a cat. But you didn't do that this time.

They didn't want a moment of rest from touch.

They just didn't want your touch.

They were so close together. But you pissed them off... Because 'you were too clingy...'

They don't want your touch anymore, do they?

They don't need your touch when they have their touch to themselves...

You left the house without saying a word, with the excuse that you were going shopping because something was gone.

But they didn't ask you where you were going...

If they don't care what you've been doing for three hours, maybe you need to accept that they no longer accept you?

You love them and you know they love you.

But if they want it, you will give them the space they want. And a break from the relationship you had.

You didn't hear from any of them even when you returned at night.

Feeling depressed as your heart ached, you went to a friend's house only to come home late.

And they, even if they were worried and wanted to call you. They decided to leave your break and space instead of reducing it and reconcile.

You hoped that you would see that there was room for you between them in the bed, you saw how soundly they slept together. Their long legs spread on the bed as they slept. Gojo's head on Geto's hand. And their sides touching.

Even if you wanted to lie down, you have nowhere to go. Because they are lying all over the bed with their arms and legs stretched out to the sides.

Why is the truth that they don't want a break from touching, they just push you away...?

With the flashlight on your phone on, you grabbed your pajamas and changed in the bathroom.

You took the blanket from the cabinet and lay down on the couch on the pillow. As you fell asleep, you didn't want to think about how your heart hurt after the whole day.

_____

You've been sleeping on the couch for two days, even though they leave space for you in the bed. Even when they wait for you in the bedroom in the evenings, you don't come.

In the morning you greet them with words, not with a kiss.

Since those days, they haven't felt your lips or your hands.

You haven't touched them once. You stayed out of their way so as not to disturb them. Not like in the kitchen.

When they told you they wanted to watch a movie in the evening and eat snacks, you watched as they sat on the couch with bowls of food.

Your pillows that they had prepared for you were waiting for you.

They were watching a movie you liked. They ate the snacks you loved.

But their words were still in your memory.

"Out of the way"

"Do something else"

"Don't get in our way"

"Stop hugging us."

"It distracts us"

„She's too Clingy now, right?"

"She just doesn't understand that we can't always hug her."

You were sitting in an armchair nearby with a package of jelly beans that you found in the cabinet and watching a movie from there.

But you saw out of the corner of your eye how their eyes were searching for you.

But they did nothing.

Because according to them, you want space after what happened.

They came to you in the morning, waking you up while you were sleeping on the couch.

"(y/n), I'm sorry we make you sad. We didn't mean to offend you..." Satoru muttered, crouching down next to your pillow.

"Yes. It... We got carried away. We're sorry." Suguru added.

You gave them a small smile.

"That's nothing. Nothing happened."

"Why don't you want to sleep with us?"

"There was often no space for me. And I couldn't sleep either. So I didn't want to disturb you."

Satoru's hand reached for yours, but you pulled away slightly.

Suguru went to kiss your forehead, but you stood up and started folding your blanket.

You've learned one thing... You need to stop touching them so much. Because they don't like it. And the sooner you start giving them less touches, the sooner you will get used to what it will look like between you now.

As they left for work, instead of hugging and kissing them goodbye like you always did, you smiled at them and said, "see you later."

Even if they expected something more.

You told yourself you wouldn't irritate them anymore. That's why you went into 'rehab' from hugging them. Instead, you hugged a stuffed animal.

You slept in bed with them, but knowing that for some time now they preferred their touch to yours, you lay on the edge of the bed and fell asleep. Even though one of Suguru's arms was waiting for you, you didn't use it as a pillow. You chose a normal down pillow.

You woke up next to them, looking at their bodies close together.

Sometimes their hands were on your waist or they were pressed against your back.

You're happy when they do it because they want it.

But you will never hug them again when only you want it...

And since then, your kisses and touches have been so tentative.

They felt as if you were at the beginning of a relationship. Where you didn't know yet how far you could go.

Each time you made small movements to make them understand that you wanted a kiss or a hug. And when they took your hint and moved closer to you, you did too.

But their beloved girl who always gave them touch and wanted it from them disappeared.

You still want their touch. But you won't force them to do it.

If these short gestures are enough for them, you must also be satisfied with something like this.

At every moment you were unsure of how far you could go. You stopped initiating all intercourse. You left a place on the other side of the table for you. You didn't just undress in front of them. You weren't open with your body or gestures. When they wanted you, you were there. But you weren't there when they didn't show they wanted to. Your kisses were always the smaller ones. Even though it was nice, you let them do what they wanted. You didn't know what to do during sex, even though it wasn't your first time with them. You grabbed the sheets and pillows. You didn't touch them unless they positioned you that way.

Your life with them... You reduced how much touch you gave them to a place where you focused on how much they wanted from you and when. You ignored how much you wanted and needed.

You didn't bathe with them, you didn't do all the things you always did.

Your body always tried to be less visible to them so they wouldn't think you were constantly everywhere.

You focus on making sure they get your touch the way they want. Without exaggeration. Without constant closeness.

And they saw your change and were worried.

Because they made you very insecure in your relationship.

Like you're learning the limits you can have.

You didn't do what you wanted. You waited for them to show you what to do and how to do it.

Too much closeness is bad. Not enough closeness either.

There was closeness between you. But there was uncertainty about the boundaries.

"Where is (y/n)?" Geto asked, looking at the white-haired man who was playing on the console.

"In the bedroom, she went to change." he said, and the dark-haired man moved to the door only to realize that you had closed the door.

This is a surprise to him. Because you never closed the door.

But you had a reason.

If they don't want to see you naked, you won't show yourself to them. If they want you will do it.

At that moment they were doing something else. So you could change your clothes quietly and not distract them behind closed doors.

"(y/n)." he called and you hurried to quickly open the door and let him in while you only had to put on your socks.

"Sorry. I just wanted to change." You smiled slightly at him.

"We can talk?"

"What is that?"

Normally you would have moved closer and waited for his words against his chest.

But now you stayed where you were, playing with your hair, not knowing what exactly to do.

It was a sign. You were even unsure of what position you were supposed to be in when talking to him. How close you can be. Where are you supposed to be?

"It's because of us, right?"

"Hmm?"

"The fact that you behave like this. It's because of what we said." he said and sat next to you on the bed. His hand moved slightly closer to yours, and your fingers trembled as if you didn't know how your muscles were supposed to move.

And you moved your fingers away slightly after a while, not wanting to accidentally touch him.

"... That's what I'm talking about... Normal you would grab my hand if I moved closer. You wouldn't avoid my touch normally. I know we hurt you, I'm sorry. But we don't want you to be like that."

Satoru appeared in front of you and crouched on the floor.

"Och no no no!" you said quickly with a small smile. "It's all fine! I don't want to annoy you anymore by requiring you to touch me often. It's already fine. You don't have to worry."

"You're not avoiding us, are you?" Satoru rested his chin on your lap, waiting for your hand to rest on his head.

But your hand only trembled as you instinctively wanted to pet him. But you held back because you didn't know if that was what he wanted exactly right now.

"Of course I'm not avoiding you!"

"So why don't you want to be close? Don't you want to touch us? Don't do anything until we do?"

Suguru's voice echoed in your ears.

You thought that if you did this they would be happy. That they will be happy to be free from your intrusive touch.

Was it different?

"You're hiding from us. You don't show up for us. You don't come closer until we come closer. You're running away from being close to us." Satoru said.

"You slept on the couch and now you sleep on the edge in bed. You don't take your clothes off in front of us."

They spoke alternately.

"You act like a doll in bed when we have sex. You position yourself the way we want. You don't do anything other than what we want."

"You don't want us to see you while you're changing. You don't bathe with us unless we tell you to join us."

"You don't act like yourself. This is not the girl we fell in love with."

Tears appeared at the back of your eyes as you felt it.

"...I just don't want to irritate you anymore..." you burst out with emotion. "I don't want you to be mad at me when I'm too close to you... I don't want that!"

"(y/n)-."

"I know this irritated you from the beginning. I know it pissed you off. I know I was too clingy. I know I was disturbing you. I know I was getting in your way. I know that... that too often I wanted from you what you don't want to give me so often... I needed too much. Now I know it. But you don't have to worry anymore. I'm starting to get used to it."

"You don't have to get used to anything. You have to be the same as you were." Suguru interrupted you by suddenly kissing your lips. "See? We want it just like you want it! Don't think about something like that! It only happened once!"

"We only had a bad day once. And one day like that doesn't mean you have to completely change... I know we were mean to you that day..."

"It's not your fault..."

"It's not YOUR fault, (y/n). But ours." they said at the same time.

Suddenly you were pinned to the bed by Geto's hands.

"We can't live with not-our girlfriend. We want our (y/n) who we've had for years."

"Man... I won't last long without cuddling you..." Satoru groaned, laying down next to you to pull you into a tight hug.

You never bothered them, did you?

You can be as close to them as you wanted, right?

You may be too clingy because they like it when you are so close to them.

[dollarbils]

break up with him | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. you and billie are broken up. but despite your new relationship, when you meet at a party, the feelings you both swore were gone, seem to resurface.

warnings. suggestive, arguing, mentions of alcohol, cheating (with billie)

your hand flew to your face in a weak effort to block the rays of sun, tempting you to wake up. you shifted your body and tried to lift your head but it started pounding violently, reminding you of the events that had transpired the night before. trying to roll out of bed proved to be useless, as you became conscious of an arm holding you back from doing so. you looked down to see billie's hand holding your bare tit. you’d recognise her rings anywhere. and her other hand, littered with fairies, was draped over your naked stomach. you silently cursed yourself. you’d been here before, it wasn’t new.

"what the fuck." you whispered and she stirred. you carefully lifted her hand from your breast, the loss of contact evident in the cool morning air, and you slowly got out of bed. you quickly found your shirt and jeans on the ground along with your bra. you found the bathroom, quickly heading to the sink to splash your face with water and put your clothes back on, not allowing yourself to give the reason they were off, a second of your thoughts.

"i have to admit, you’re exactly who i expected to see." billie said, groggily, as you walked out of the bathroom, she was covering herself with the sheets, her clothes bunched up on the floor next to her. you were really hoping she would've still been sleeping.

"uh, yeah. here we are again." you held your forehead in your hand as you tried to fight the incoming headache.

"you can’t seem to keep away from me, can you?" she grinned at you and you crossed your arms.

"this isn't funny bils, you're enjoying this?"

"a little. you can't tell me you didn't." she admitted still smirking.

"fortunately I don't seem to have vivid memories of the experience." you huffed, gathering some of the things that had spilt out of your bag when you’d dumped it on the floor.

"fortunately? that's an exaggeration, I can remind you." she smiled, widening her eyes, her finger tracing the skin on your shoulder.

"billie, I can't do this with you." you stepped away from her, regaining your self control.

"well your drunk self seems to think otherwise." she got up not bothering to keep covering herself as she picked up her clothes. when you turned away she spoke again. "come on, it's nothing you haven't seen before." your predicament was obviously amusing to her. you shuffled through your jeans and in the sheets looking for your phone.

"your boyfriend called," billie, now fully dressed, held up your phone which she'd found on the floor, "eight times." she swung your phone in her hand and you took it from her checking through it to see eight missed calls from your boyfriend, who you’d forgotten about until this very moment.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. why didn't you stop us if you knew I'm in a relationship?" you raised your voice slightly.

"don't come blaming me, i was drunk too." she raised her hands up in defense.

“fuck.” you repeated.

"hey, it's okay," she held your face as your brain caught up to heart, which was racing violently. "calm down, angel." she whispered sweetly.

"no it's not okay bils i don't cheat, i'm not a cheater.” she stopped herself from laughing but a silent giggle slipped out.

“cut the crap. this is what? the third time you’ve woken up here with the same reaction?”

“i’m in a relationship, get over it. i'm sorry if I got your hopes up, don't call me." you grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and exited the room.

"wait" she called, and it took all of your strength to ignore it and close the bedroom door behind you. as you crossed the hall you figured out you were in billie’s house, it hadn’t changed much since you were last here. but before you could leave, billies arm pulled you back into the room you’d woken up in.

“we’re not done talking.” she said sternly, before closing the door again. locking it so that you couldn’t escape without her stopping you.

“i’m quite done. we broke up billie, months ago.” you told her, trying to loosen the grip she had on your arms, but to no avail.

“it sure didn’t take you long to move on.” she spat back, matching your own attitude to the situation. her face moving impossibly closer to yours.

“don’t do that.” you looked away from her, considering it a low blow.

“don’t do what? tell you the truth? you need a fucking wake up call. you can’t keep avoiding your feelings.” you were silenced, not knowing how to clap back at her argument. she took your cheeks in her hands when you didn’t answer, forcing you to look at her.

“don’t tell me last night was just a drunken mistake to you.” there was an undertone of hurt in her voice.

“it was.” you replied, lying through your teeth.

“i don’t believe you.” she challenged.

“believe what you want.” it was a shitty response. a non answer to a statement you didn’t want to face.

“you wouldn’t do it again if it was just a mistake.”

“believe what you want.” you repeated and she clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disbelief.

“do you regret it?” she asked, hesitant.

“yes.” her demeanour changed as she contemplated whether she believed you or not. you instantly regretted it though, you didn’t want to hurt her, despite everything. “not because of you bils, because of him.”

“because of him? what does that even mean?” her hands left your body and suddenly you craved for them to return.

“i can’t keep cheating on him with you.” she was laughing out of anger, disbelief planted on her face.

“break up with him.” she suggested, and it took you a while to realise she was dead serious.

“for you?” you asked her to clarify what she meant. she nodded and you sighed, “I don’t know, billie.” you said honestly.

“admit it, he’s just an excuse for you not to date me.”

“your in over you head.”

“you’re going to tell me you haven’t missed me?” she asked, her eyes filled with emotions you didn’t have the courage to face.

“of course, but that’s not why.” she came closer, lifting your chin when she spoke.

“don’t you go home every time you wake up here cursing yourself because you can’t stop thinking of me?” she was sincere now, the fight forgotten.

“billie stop.”

“then tell me why, angel. i’ll make it better, i’ll try my best.”

“you hurt me, you became distant all of a sudden and practically ghosted me.” you recounted the events of your breakup.

“i wasn’t in the right place.” she explained but to you, it still felt like an empty excuse.

“how can i trust that you are now?” your head was spinning with the possibility of being with her again.

“i’ll show you, let me show you.” she whispered on your skin as she kissed down your neck. she made you weak and she knew it.

“i have a boyfriend.” the statement was false in so many ways except literal.

“break up with him.” she repeated. her hands travelling lower and her lips marking your skin.

“billie.” you said her name. like a chant, like a plea, like you hadn’t said it in years.

“baby?” she questioned your call for her attention as she left your neck, the feeling of her lips still lingering. she looked into your eyes when you didn’t speak.

“do you still love me?” she questioned, her eyes never leaving yours. it was hard to look at her and withhold the truth.

“i-” the words were at the tip of your tongue but it was as if you were frozen, her compelling gaze keeping you in place.

“hm?” it was a soft sound, grounding you.

“of course i do.” you gave in and she smiled, her teeth showing.

“you better break up with him after this.” she said before pulling your lips to hers, and they followed like a magnet. your chest tightened as your hands met her black hair, pulling harder than you’d wanted them to. she groaned, her mouth opening, inviting your tongue in. in the end, you’d always find yourself giving in, going back to her. ready to let her hurt you all over again. but you didn’t care. at least not in the moment.

part 2

note: hahaha, tell me if this is shit, seriously i can’t tell 😐

[vampiresbloodx]

pairings: Wanda maximoff x Reader

warnings(18+ ONLY): legal age gap, Wanda's in her forties and reader is in their twenties, I try not to use specific gender for reader as I want everyone to enjoy but for smut I will use proper tag, oral s*x (r!receiving), top!Wanda, jealous Wanda, weird creepy guy(ew).

part 1, part 2, part 3.

Older!Librarian!Wanda getting jealous when anyone flirts with you, has their hands on you a bit too long for her liking.

She knows she's possessive, maybe even a little bit obsessive. Everyone should know you're hers and only hers. Even if she has to put a collar on it with her name.

Wanda wasn't always the jealous type, as she claims. Ever since you officially called her your girlfriend, she's been more protective, something changed in her that she couldn't quite understand.

She's still getting used to all this, it's way different than how she's used to it being, back in her day. Now she's got you by her side, you were just so damn pretty, she couldn't believe she's lucky enough to have you.

When she takes you out for your weekly dates, of course, shed not too surprised when someone comes up and tries to ask you for your number or compliments you, she doesn't blame them. She too would be in their shoes if she saw you.

A guy comes up to you, immediately, her grip tightens around your hand, pulling you in closer to her body, she can't help it. She needs you close. He's a waitress at the restaurant she's taken you too, he's being a bit too friendly, you didn't seem to notice, you're sweet, but Wanda has noticed you can be naive.

Naive to the point where you think the waitress was just being nice.

No.

Wanda wasn't stupid.

She glared daggers at him the entire time he was taking forever to take both of your orders, purposely ignoring her presence just to talk to you, when his hand touched yours, she saw you flinch away, laughing awkwardly, Wanda raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to continue, if he knew what's best for him.

He got the message as soon as she placed her hand on top of yours, and brought it to her lips, kissing your knuckles, enjoying how flustered you got.

She had already lost her appetite. The only thing she wanted was you.

She abruptly got up, ignoring the waitress as she was too annoyed to acknowledge anyone else but you. She grabbed your hand, forcing you to follow her as she pulled you into the bathrooms, locking the door behind you.

"Wanda? What's wrong? Are you-"

She cut you off by pressing your body against the wall, staring at you as her eyes go dark, you seem to get the message, not backing away as the aching in between your legs grew, more desperate for her.

She smirked, lips meeting yours to shut out the noises, though as much as she'd love for everyone to hear you scream her name as she makes you come, this is for her only.

Wanda got on her knees, staring at you the entire time she did so, making sure you were looking only at her, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't sure what overcame, why this feeling was so intense. She knew she was going to have to bring it up later.

But for now, she wanted to taste you, it would be better than anything this restaurant could ever provide anyways.

She has your mouth stuffed with your panties, wanting to know just how soaking wet you are for her and she's just started. Wanda expertly licks up your cunt, inserting a finger inside your tight hole, god, no matter how many times she fucks it she still can't get over how it clenches around her.

She feels you squirming, she loves it. Wanda doesn't look away and neither do you. It's a lot. She can feel it.

You come into her mouth, wetness pooling in, some of it dripping onto her chin, your cheeks burned at the sight as she pulls your panties out of your mouth, leaving you breathless.

"fucking hell" you muttered, slumping against the wall.

She grinned, pleased, licking her lips.

Then you say the words she was looking to hear.

"can we skip dinner please? I want you."

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Can I request reader x Lucifer, where she reassures him and tells him that she will always love and be there for him more than anything.

He deserves love, and Lilith deserves to go fuck herself.

I like to think that what's going on with Lilith is some kind of a misunderstanding or will otherwise be resolved, but our dear Lucy boy does indeed deserve comfort in the interim, so have this little ficlet!

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Hurt/Comfort

There were times when the King of Hell simply broke. The constant threats to his power, the atrocities committed by his subjects, the weight of all he'd done and his powerlessness to change anything for the better... it was too much, even for him. Once upon a time, he'd been able to share the weight of his crown, and to draw strength from the one he loved most on the days he couldn't think of a reason to get out of bed. Now, she was gone, and those dark days came for him all the more often in her absence. He'd survived, as he always had and always would, but his servants knew not to intrude when he sealed himself away to crumble behind closed doors. They'd learned no one could reach him when he fell into those dark thoughts.

You, unaware of these things, hadn't hesitated to seek him out when you didn't hear a word for over two days. His private wing of the castle had been unnaturally dim and dank when you'd arrived; the magical lights that usually kept it shimmering were mere flickers, and the golden walls seemed to sag, as if the structure itself was wilting under its own misery. A careful hand along the lifeless corridors had been needed to guide you through the darkness and to the King's private chambers.

When you'd opened the doors, you'd barely recognized the man on the bed at first glance. With his disheveled clothes, unkempt hair and lifeless red eyes, it had taken you a moment to recognize your beloved Lucifer, even with all six of his wings lying limp at his sides. You'd been across the room in a heartbeat once the pieces had connected.

Lucifer's surprise at your arrival had quickly turned to pleas for you to leave. He promised that he was fine, that he only needed to be alone, that you shouldn't bother yourself with such things, but of course you hadn't been convinced. The spread of shed feathers across the mattress and deep bags beneath his eyes told you he was in need of help, and you intended to provide it, however you could. Your steadfast refusal to leave finally brought the truth out of him.

"Alright, I'm not fine!" he confessed, sitting upright to face you. Seated on your heels, you gave him space instinctively, wanting him to continue so you might learn what was troubling the man you loved. Though your first guess would have been some unnatural, Hellish sickness, there was something about his movements that told you it was much deeper than that. Such a proud man would not let himself reach a state like this lightly. Grabbing a handful of his disheveled hair, he averted his eyes and took a shaky breath, wings crumpled around him in a ring of crimson feathers like a broken shield. Horns peaked from his forehead as he fought for his words.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, but I just..." he trailed off as a wave of frustration passed through his features, expression pinching tight as he held his face in his hand. Though your heart ached at the sight, you held back still, knowing you needed the truth before you could do anything for him. A heavy sigh passed through his fingers before he raised his head to look out a nearby stained glass window. The mixed colors reflected deeply in his glassy eyes, and he let out a miserable laugh. "Sometimes, it's too much, you know? Hell, the Sinners, the endless misery, and old Lucy's got nobody to blame for any of it but himself."

"Lucy-"

"What am I even talking about? Nobody to blame? I've got nobody, period! I can't! Soon as someone gets attached, it all goes south! Either I've gotta push them away for their own good, or they end up leaving all on their own!" he continued, breaking into a bout of unhinged laughter. All six wings flexed without any kind of unison, sending a fresh shower of feathers over the both of you as he looked upwards and pointed an accusatory finger at the ceiling. "Top marks for the punishment, you Heavenly bastards! It's the gift that just won't stop giving!"

You'd have stopped him were you not shocked into silence by it all. There had always been hints of your beloved fallen angel's deeply buried suffering: smiles faltering without a word, sudden flashes of sadness in his eyes when he thought you couldn't see, the tightness with which he'd embrace you upon saying goodbye... There had just never been enough for you to act decisively, and he always brushed off even the most casual concern for his wellbeing. Now, with his sanity potentially hanging by a thread, you could almost feel the agony that was weighing him down.

"Gotta keep my daughter away for her own good, lost all my friends, lost my wife-!" he halted with an especially pained laugh, and clutched the fabric of his shirt as if wounded by the very word. Suddenly you understood his seclusion all too well. His beloved of the past ten millennia, the woman he'd crossed Heaven for, the mother of his child... Lilith had been his rock, and without her, how could he shoulder it all? The man before you was collapsing under a kind of pressure few could imagine.

Burying his face in his hands, he spoke next as if you weren't present, sinking into himself and the pit of misery he likely thought he deserved. "And sooner or later I'll lose you too! Can't I get a damned-!?"

"Lucifer!" you interrupted at last, grabbing his shoulders in tandem with the shout. He lifted his head in surprise, having never heard you raise your voice with him and likely quite unaccustomed to the sound to begin with. Emboldened by the success, you continued with all the confidence you could pack into every syllable, needing him to hear you and know you spoke the truth.

"You haven't lost me, and you won't!" you insisted, sure enough in yourself that you'd have challenged every Exorcist in Heaven to prove you meant it. Lucifer, still caught off guard by your initial yell, remained briefly unresponsive. Blinking suddenly, he shifted to an expression of apathy before taking hold of your wrists and gently pulling them off his shoulders.

"I want to believe that..." he replied softly, slightly more grounded now. Breath hitching, he slid his thumbs over the backs of your palms, taking a moment just to feel your presence before abruptly letting go. You could sense how hard he was resisting the urge to pull you in. "But there's so much that can happen. My position, my enemies... it's more than I can ask of anyone, and eventually... Well, everyone has a limit, and I can't blame them for leaving when they hit it."

In the short time you'd known him, you'd seen a great deal of the hardships he spoke of, and knew that many would indeed find the constant weight of his position too much to endure. Since being at his side inevitably meant shouldering some of that weight by proxy, you understood why many would find themselves unable to endure. It was indeed too much to ask of anyone...

Thankfully, you didn't need to be asked. You were offering.

"I don't have a limit. Not so long as I'm with you." you said more firmly, taking his hands back in your own. Once more, you looked into his eyes, and spoke with all the conviction your voice could possibly muster. "I don't care about Heaven, or the rest of Hell, or anything. If I'm with you, I can handle it."

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Lucifer replied quickly, almost mechanical in his dismissal. Though he was still deep in his thoughts and deeper still in his grief, you didn't fail to notice how he let his hands remain in your grip. Despite it all, he wanted you, but just wasn't yet strong enough to face the pain of wanting. You didn't mind. He needed time to heal, and you'd shoulder as much of the load as possible for as long as it took for him to do so.

"Well, good luck trying to stop me." you said, ever more defiant. A small but far more genuine chuckle passed his lips, and you pulled him closer, encouraging the exhausts angel to lean on you for an embrace. When his head met your chest, you held him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair just the way he liked it. As his exhausted body eased against your own, you knew you spoke only the truth. "I love you, and I'm going to keep loving you. Nothing is ever going to change that."

He laughed again, sounding like he still believed his luck wouldn't change, but was daring to hope regardless.

"I love you too."

As you held him on the bed in silence, you vowed to every being from the highest peaks of Heaven to the lowest depths of Hell that he wouldn't regret this.

[almostwisegalaxy]

I take care of you

Lee Eun-hyuk x f!reader

..................................................................................

In a completely destroyed city, Lee Eun-hyuk finds himself captivated by his former love. Wherever she goes, he discreetly follows, watching her every move with admiration. Y/n, unaware of her secret admirer, goes about her daily business while Lee Eun-hyuk stays close by.

As the days pass, Lee Eun-hyuk continues his silent shadow behind Y/n, lost in his thoughts and dreaming of one day having the courage to speak to him. One evening, as Y/n leaves the nearly collapsed green house, she feels a familiar presence and looks up to meet Lee Eun-hyuk's deep gaze. Their eyes meet, and in that fleeting moment, a special bond is created between them, uniting their souls in an inexplicable way. In a way that Y/n Emma can't understand, but she doesn't dwell on it too much and continues on her way.

Through chance encounters and exchanged glances, Y/n begins to feel a strange familiarity with Lee Eun-hyuk, as if her heart had always followed his in silence. Finally, one starry night, as Y/n wanders aimlessly around the building, she hears footsteps behind her. When she turns around, she sees Lee Eun-hyuk.

"Why are you always following me? "she says without any emotion in her voice.

Eun-hyuk just smiles at him. He can't blame her, after all, a neo-human isn't supposed to feel emotions. He approaches her, but keeps a distance between them so as not to scare her away.

"I'll take care of you," Eun-hyuk finally says.

Ever since Y/n woke up, he's always been close to her. When she came out of the cocoon, he dressed her and made her comfortable before she regained consciousness. Even in the cocoon she had felt his presence, and he had left her only when necessary.

She stared into his eyes, not really knowing what to think. Of course, she remembered their past together. How they'd confessed their feelings to each other that winter night. That night when Eun-hyuk had promised to find her and her sister Eun-yu with Hyun su safe and sound, but never returned. Her conscience told her to scream at him or just run into Eun-hyuk's arms and kiss him. But being reborn, she didn't feel the urge.

"Why would you do that?" Y/n said.

"Because I want to."

"Why?" To Eun-hyuk, she sounded like a child who always asks her mother why. It was cute.

"Why would you do such a thing. You're a neo-human like me, so why do you act so irrationally?"

"Because I wouldn't be Lee Eun-hyuk if I went home without you. Princess, my world is pretty empty when you're not here."

Y/n looks at her sheepishly.

"I care about you. And caring for you gives me a reason to hold on, a reason not to live without a purpose, because my purpose is you".

"But you gave up again..." she says, disappointment clearly in her voice. Regret paints Eun-hyuk's face. He approaches her, his arms slightly raised in a gesture of appeasement. "I made mistakes and failed to keep my promise."

"Forgive me," he asks without anger. He knows he can't erase what he's done with a few words, but he feels the need to apologize anyway.

I understand your reasons, but that doesn't erase the suffering we went through waiting for you. You didn't see your sister cry. You didn't feel the fear we feel every day in a hostile world.

Lee Eun-hyuk said nothing, but continued to walk toward her.

"You're telling me that taking care of me is your reason for living," Y/n murmured, her eyelids fluttering as if she had to absorb what he'd just said. She clenched her head slightly, frowning with a hint of confusion.

"I... I don't understand. How can I be your reason for living?"

Eun-hyuk smiled slightly, his gaze tender.

"It's simple," he replied, as if explaining something absurd. "My life is empty without you. When you're here, when I see you, when I know you're okay, everything seems to make more sense. It's like the world regains its color."

"I can't love you on the road. I don't... I don't know how to do it," she says.

"I will teach you," he says now in front of her. He tenderly strokes y/n's cheek. At first she flinches from his touch, then she comes back under his caresses. She looks at him sheepishly, not understanding why this gesture warms her body.

"Did I scare you?" She nods.

"Well...It would be a shame to scare the person I love " and he smiles.

Y/n looks at him fascinated.

"Will you teach me that too?" She refers to his smile.

"I'll teach you anything you want."

Then Eun-hyuk took him in her arms. The longer the moment lasts, the more Y/N feels that this is where she belongs. In Eun-hyuk's arms.

Every touch of skin resonates with infinite softness. Hands search for each other, find each other, squeeze each other with infinite delicacy, as if each caress whispers a silent "I love you". Hearts draw closer, synchronize, and in that intimate moment, the whole world fades away to make way for their vibrant, eternal love, sealing their bond in an embrace that transcends time and space.

..................................................................................

Bonus :

Y/n is sitting on the roof when Eun-hyuk comes to sit next to her

“do you have any plans for today?”

"yes, world domination"

"ok, that’s ambitious” a silence settles between them before y/n continues

“you are my world”

Lee Eun-hyuk took a while to understand "oh... OH"

She kisses him on the cheek, smiles at him before finally leaving him alone blushing

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Becca and Butchers Child

Requested: Firstly HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!! ﾟ+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ.+ﾟ. Secondly, could u write like some headcanon about being Butcher's child (like who is two years older than Ryan) and how other members from the boys (+ maybe Soldier boy, cause of season 3 and how he would interact with them :3) - anon

A/N: Thank you my love!!! In the headcanon I made reader 10+ years older so they'd be at least 18 by the time they found out about Becca and Ryan, I hope you don't mind!! That way they can be part of The Boys and grow up with them, if that makes sense? I also had a very similar request of a headcanon so I'm basing it off that so there's some background :) I love this request!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Headcanon Pt. 1 / Headcanon Pt. 2

Butcher knew he couldn't take care of you. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights at bars, searching the city for your mom. Your perfect grades were slipping, you were getting into fights at school, you were emulating him. He knew how dangerous that was. First with your Aunt, then your Great Aunt, until you tracked him down all these years later. He still has a picture of you in his wallet, a baby picture that's creased and faded. You and Becca. You've grown up since then, though. And you're angry. He insist you go back to Judy, pretend you never saw or heard what you did, but you refuse. You want to pick a fight with him. You want to yell and scream and get out eight years worth of grief. He understands where you're coming from, he does. He never wanted to be like his father and yet, in so many ways, that's exactly who he was. Your relationship will never be what it is. That's not possible anymore. You have to learn to deal with one another now, in the present, instead of the happy kid you used to be, instead of the dad he used to be. It hurts you both to think about the past, who you could have been instead of who you are.

Hughie isn't really sure what to do with you. There's no doubt you're Butcher's kid. He's still relatively new to the team, so he just assumed this was something else Butcher hadn't shared with him. When he realizes no one knew about your existence, he's shocked. You, like your father, gravitate towards Hughie for reasons you can't put into words. You'll let him sit next to you when you're watching TV and maybe even talk to him if you're in the right mood. You don't shoot daggers at him like you try with everyone else. Similar to a cat, he's someone you can stand to be around. He comes to your defense a lot, especially when you stumble in drunk and pass out for the day. He's sure if any of them had been raised by Butcher, or at least the outside relatives, they would have turned out exactly like you. He can't blame you for being angry, or pissed, or hurt. He can see the hurt better than anyone else no matter how much you try to hide it. He thinks you just need some time and empathy to get straightened out. The least they can do is offer that, right?

Annie has no idea what to do with you. She tried smiling and talking to you, but you didn't want anything to do with her. She reminds you too much of your Aunt. She always said you should be happier, bubblier, that you were so smiley as a kid. You couldn't live in the past like her, with her. Too much had changed. Hughie assures her it's nothing against her, you're just getting used to things. She thinks it's sweet how you're attracted to Hughie. He's the only one you mildly respect and even, once in a blue moon, listens to. She doesn't take it too personally considering you're ready to rip your fathers head off. It could be a lot worse. Over time you see that Annie and Hughie are together and that definitely earns her some points. Annie can't imagine what your life must have looked like, all those years mourning your mother and father, all those years spent with relatives just doing their best. She understood why you were so angry all the time, so cagey and spiky. She doesn't hold it against you.

M.M. feels conflicted. Betrayed isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing he can come up with. He never 100% trusted Butcher. He was always going behind everyone's backs, doing what he wanted despite the good of the team, etc. He was destructive, combative, and spiteful. But, he thought they knew each other better than that. When he met you he couldn't deny you were Butcher's. Your mannerisms, the crazed look in your eye when you were upset, it all matched your father. He can't help but see you like how he sees Janine, even if you're much older: a victim of Vought. A generational curse. You're stubborn, and angry, and distant all because of what's been done to you, all because of Homelander. If your mom had been around, if Homelander had never done what he'd done, you'd still have your perfect family. He feels this need to protect you the same way he does with your father, even if you both fight him on it, even if you don't want or deserve it. He can't help it.

Frenchie doesn't trust you the same way he doesn't trust your father. He especially doesn't like that you and Kimiko are so close. She doesn't tell him anything about your conversations, knowing it would completely break your trust if she did. He believes Butcher would hide something as big and important as a child. He knows what your family can be like. Lying, drunken, selfish, vengeful. You're only a few of those things, not that he can tell the difference. You know Frenchie isn't your biggest fan, so you love messing with him, teasing him, rubbing it in his face that you and Kimiko are close. Similar to your father, Frenchie thinks this isn't the kind of place for you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. M.M. might feel fatherly towards you, but Frenchie sees you as a Mini Butcher, just another handful no one on the team can deal with. You yell and scream and fight and drink. That proves to him you're still a child despite it all.

Kimiko adores you. Despite the difference in circumstances, she sees a lot of herself in you. Ripped from your family, angry and hostile and doing everything in your power not to get hurt again. Besides Hughie, you'd warm up to her second. You're actually incredibly smart despite never applying yourself and pick up the signs pretty quickly. Whatever you can't sign, you write to her, wanting your conversations to stay secret. You show her the pictures of your mom that you kept all these years, telling her all about the good times you had before she disappeared. When you see Butcher you instantly grow hostile, angry all over again, and the person she saw, the person she was just talking to who was kind, and thoughtful, and smart totally disappears. When you blast your angry music she never minds. In fact, she quite likes it, adding it to her own playlist. She doesn't look at you like you need fixing or, worse, need to get out of here.

Bonus! Homelander always knew about you. Becca was more than willing to talk about you and Billy to co-workers. He even remembers taking that picture with you that one Christmas. He's kept an eye on you through the years, but you never seemed like the vengeful type. You never knew what happened after your father abandoned you. He does, however, use it as leverage against Becca. Remember the kid you left behind? Seems like she's got favorites. Becca agonizes over leaving you, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. He uses you to keep her there, in her place. He gives her updates, usually to make her feel bad. You're kid drinks way too much, did you know that? Of course you didn't. He loves to tell her that Butcher abandoned you all those years ago. He loves to see that it absolutely kills her. He's not worried about you coming after him. You've got to work through your issues before you get to him and therapy for a lifetime couldn't get you an Butcher on the same page.

Bonus! Soldier Boy would actually get along with you. I think you'd have a Worst Dad Competition and though you're close, you definitely think you win. You two share a drink and you tell him all about your dear old dad. "No wonder you turned out like this." Ben says, pouring you more. Hughie urges you to slow down, but you have a high tolerance. Ben, to piss of Butcher, will always take your side in arguments and uses what you told him against him. "You dumped them off and never looked back. Now you're parenting?" Butcher absolutely hates it. You tell him about your mom, how much she loved you, how she was killed. You don't mention Ryan though, knowing Ben's go to answer would be to seek revenge. You have a lot of complicated feelings around your brother, but you still have a burning Hatred for Homelander. You make Ben promise he'll kill him. He does, even if it means killing his son. You two bond really fast. Neither Hughie nor Butcher trusts it or him, but you do.