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#identifications welcome
cryoverkiltmilk · 1 year
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Here's a whole bunch of smug anime reaction images for your convenience.
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darewolfcreates · 10 months
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Some more Freddie and Nightlight drawings .w.
Referenced post here
Freddie and Georgie by @eldritchparasol
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saw this BIG lollipop-looking mushroom on my campus! he was super impressive, there were a few smaller ones as well :]
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Oh hello, gorgeous! I'm not 100% sure because I can't see the color of its gills but I'm leaning on agaricus arvensis. If it is agaricus arvensis (aka horse mushroom), the gills should be darker than the cap, purple-ish/brownish.
(For a moment I was actually considering amanita sp., like citrina or strobiliformis, but considering the height and also the fact that it's completely white, I think, it's agaricus. Also, amanitas have white gills, if you're identifying mushrooms irl.)
If you have a chance, check it out a few days later and see what it looks like once the cap has flattened out. ;)
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softswitchbutch · 1 year
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I like don't keep this in my pinned cause this is a nsft blog amd my main is more for stuff like this but I support bi lesbians because honestly as a butch lesbian who uses he/they I understand far too much about what it means to have people assume things about my labels and hate me for it. So if you keep in your beliefs that bi lesbians don't exist you probably shouldn't interact with me lol.
Not mad since I've never said anything, but I've got an increase in blogs that say dni interact if you believe they exist or support them and I definitely do. 🧡
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bookwyrminspiration · 11 months
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It’s me again: the anon who wants tam to cry. However, this time I want happiness for him. It’s pride month so legally I have to be nice
He deserves cuddles. To feel so at peace that he just falls asleep on his friends. They’re too scared to move in fear of waking him- the same way most are when a cat falls asleep in their lap. Do you think he’d snore? I do, but very lightly.
OKAY I've been thinking about this so much recently, because I've been trying to figure out how much physical touch and affection I think he would tolerate and enjoy (so I can write him better according to my interpretation and style)
On the one hand, the immediate argument might be that he hates getting close to people. He's bristly in canon and is known to push back, and he doesn't trust easily, which may indicate a distaste for anyone getting up close and personal. He doesn't want anyone that close
But! On the other hand, a big thing for Tam is that aforementioned trust, and he's not always bristly. he has no problem putting people back in their place and questioning things, but he's not rude to the people he cares about. Once he trusts people, his challenges become more for amusement, he teases people a lot--case in point: teasing Sophie over Keefe throughout Lodestar, and poking fun at their awkwardness and implications (like with Dex).
And, to tie it back in specifically to touch, he's shown no problem being physically affectionate with Linh. Evidence: after he, Fitz, and Sophie were taken he wraps his arm around her as she buries her face in his shoulder. Granted, they're not touching often, but there's no hesitation or discomfort shown from Tam. instead, there's comfort offered
SO it stands to reason that while he is a prickly character and distrustful, meaning he doesn't like people close to him for trust reasons, there will be a few exceptions made for those he's especially close with. it's an external barrier, but like his sharp tongue, it's one that can be lowered once someone's earned that clearance with him. he's therefore, in this interpretation, not a universally touch averse character but it's instead all tied to trust
WHICH is especially relevant in my musings because trust is also an essential part of Fitz's character (though I won't get into it here). And I was having all these musings to figure out whether it would work with Tam's character to have them cuddle. And my conclusion is, if I've got a strongly established trust between them then yes. I can make them cuddle in character.
And I got sidetracked but yes, I think Tam lightly snoring is very possible. either that or he sleeps like stone--doesn't move or make noise at all, to the point everyone gets nervous and checks to make sure he's still breathing :)
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heatherwitch · 2 years
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Finally trying to expand my knowledge into the beetle realm!
I believe this is a female White-spotted Sawyer Beetle, but would welcome any corrections :)
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brilliantrosetyler · 2 years
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mushrooms
look, i don't care if you use them, drink or eat them. i have nephews that come over and little kids next door. i just need to know what sorts of these mushrooms these are, if they need to be removed (and handed over to) by the root. they freak me out having all these kids around and if their spores are dangerous or should be removed then I need to do so.thank you for any help. hopefully these images aren't too large and someone knows.
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fursasaida · 4 months
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This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:
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Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:
Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.
[...]
Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.
But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”
What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.
The article goes on to discuss:
"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion
A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"
The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance
Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels
And finally, in closing:
The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]
He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”
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yuellii · 7 months
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🪼 HI USER YUELLII OMG I LUV JEALOUSY TROPES MAYBE THAT SAYS... SOMETHING ABOUT MY CHARACTER BUT I LOVEEEE JEALOUSY TROPES. AND WITH NEUVILETTE????? SOEMONE WHO PRIABBLY DOESNT EXPERIENCE JEALOUSY OFTEN IF AT ALL???? im sold. IM SOLD. PULLING OUT MY CREDIT CARD. IWOULD LITERALLY KILL TO READ UR THOUGHTS ON IT
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The Four Stages of Jealousy : THE IUDEX.
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STAGE I. — Identification.
There is a threat, that a person may feel losing someone to someone better than them. "I want what you have, and I hate that you have what I want."
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure of the sudden twist in his stomach as he stood at your doorstep, a bag of pastries tucked under one of his arms and a box of tea bags carried under his other.
Saturdays, three o’clock sharp in the afternoon held meaning: A time in which he’d arrive at your boutique, treats in hand and a pleasant look on his face. He’d try on one of your hats, maybe, for it was a prime time for tea, taken advantage of by the two of you, alone together every Saturday afternoon. It was an evening of the week where he was most happiest, though that might’ve been only an assumption. But the tranquility he usually felt standing at your doorstep was never one he could ignore.
Unfortunately, said tranquility seemed to be lacking this time around.
What he expected as another nice time alone with you ( especially since it was on your undocumented schedule—but who cared for documents, when he looked forward to this meeting every week? ) was instead being interrupted by a certain someone. Namely, a certain Champion Duelist. And maybe, Neuvillette would not be so bothered, had she not been sitting in his seat.
( Said seat was also unspoken, or ‘undocumented’ between the two of you, but still. He sat there every week—therefore by repeated pattern alone, that antique chair in front of the table should be his. )
( And sure, this might’ve been your boutique’s seating area, where everyone comes to sit during the day; But on Saturdays during tea time, he’d like to think that seat was practically reserved for him. )
“Neuvillette!” you practically gasped, facial expression turning into one of lightened excitement at seeing him. There was a blissful ignorance in your voice—‘ignorant’ in the way he was truly glad you didn’t know he was mentally annoyed at the mere fact his seat was taken. But nevertheless, the tightrope of his heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, which always sounded so enthusiastic every week he came back here. Perhaps you were just excited to see him as much as he was excited to see you—the thought alone brings a shiver to his spine.
He approaches forward with a polite smile of his own when you pat the empty spot adjacent to you on the loveseat. Ah, so the theft of his usual antique chair leaves him to sit beside you. Maybe the uninvited guest was welcomed, now that he thought about it.
“What brings Miss Clorinde with us today?” he finally asked, addressing the most obvious outlier first. When he set the bag of pastries down on the table, he watched as the Duelist eyed it with interest.
Clorinde hummed. “I was here for a small chat, then I was told that Monsieur Neuvillette would be ‘arriving soon’. And here you are.” At the recount of events, Neuvillette noticed how Clorinde threw a playful look at you. This playfulness did not stop, unfortunately for him, when she leaned forward to peek at the paper bag he brought in. “Then I stayed, because I thought: ‘What could the Chief Justice possibly say that’s interesting enough for weekly conversations?’”
You gasped at her teasing insult. “Clorinde!” you scolded with slight laughter. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a great companion for tea conversations! He’s very interesting, indeed, I promise you!”
“Thank you,” Neuvillette coughed through his words. He’s beginning to feel a bit awkward here…
“Oh?” Clorinde piped up again, just before Neuvillette could even get another word out. “There’s a lot of pastries in here, and also a new box of tea?”
“He brings them for us to share every week!” you exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag off the table and kindly distributing a treat to everyone. And that’s when suddenly, Neuvillette wishes he only bought one for the two of you, because he watches as you set down the pieces of Conch Madeleines in front of the Champion Duelist, despite Neuvillette knowing those were your favorites. Meanwhile, instead, you gave him and yourself the remaining other pastries. But surely, you wouldn’t just give up your favorites like that… Unless you favored Clorinde. Ah, but maybe he was overthinking it. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”
Clorinde sends him a casual smirk, likely to tease him. “Sweetest, certainly.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this at all.
When he eventually had to leave, Clorinde still stayed there to chat with you, and he felt empty walking out of your boutique. Emptier than usual, actually. It was certainly confusing, due to the fact nothing inherently bad happened, and he certainly didn’t want to say Clorinde’s presence bothered him, or anything over-the-top like that.
Hm.
Neuvillette didn’t get to talk to you as much as he wanted to today.
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STAGE II. — Confrontative.
Where negative thoughts start to bloom as "envy." Jealousy begins to indicate love for the person, and the individual is afraid of losing that object of their love.
It’s the following Saturday when he sees you again, and he can’t quite understand why he feels an air of relief upon seeing that Clorinde is not there today.
“Neuvillette!” You greet him with the same smile and same excitement as always, and the rush of paradise courses through his body before he sits across from you in his usual seat: the antique chair right in front of you. He sets down his paper bag of fresh pastries; And upon doing so, he can’t help but smile when he noticed there are only two teacups on the table. One for you, and one for himself. “You seem a little more delighted today”—Was it that obvious?—“What’s gotten you into a good mood, Monsieur?”
He hummed. “Nothing, really.” He actually wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling so joyous today, either, but as long as you were sitting there still smiling at him, then it would all be alright. “It’s just natural, since it’s always my pleasure to spend my Saturday afternoons with you.”
Bring your hand up to cover your mouth, you lightly gasped at his words. “Oh, Monsieur!” you giggled. “I hadn’t known you could be a charmer with your words!”
He liked the reaction you gave him. He thinks he liked the feeling of approval you gave him, but even more. Neuvillette learned rather gradually that you always tended to get a happy sort-of embarrassment from his ‘compliments’. Said ‘compliments’, however, referred to mere truthful facts he’s laid for you. But there’s a certain loveliness that comes with confiding in someone to tell all your truths to, and he’s more than elated that you’re the one he trusts to blabber endlessly to. He just hopes it can stay like this for a long time: Just the two of you, enjoying your Saturday afternoon tea.
“So,” Neuvillette began, watching as you took a bite of the Conch Madeleine he bought specifically for you. He had to catch himself from smiling at you—if his duty was to buy your favorite treat every week, then so be it. “How has your week been since I last saw you?”
Your hand once again flies up to cover your mouth as you quickly finish to chew and swallow the bite before answering him. “It’s been fun, actually! I saw a concert performed by a famous violinist—I believe I might’ve even spotted you in the front row…”
“Ah, yes, that would’ve been me. It was a spectacular performance; I’m happy to know you saw it,” he smiled. Hm, if he knew you were there that night, he certainly would’ve said hello. Your hand moves upwards once more to bring your teacup closer to your lips, and now he’s curious to ask: “And that ring of yours—that’s new, when did you get it?”
“Oh!” After setting the teacup down, you quickly leaned forwards, outstretching your right arm to show off the ring to him at a closer view. “I just got it yesterday, actually. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is.” It really dazzles to compliment your eyes. Neuvillette catches himself thinking of little things he’s never thought before. Like the way your hair frames your face perfectly, especially at this angle. Or the way your eyes held this delicate shine he admired so dearly, only now heightened by the sparkle of the ring’s reflection. There’s a new tide of poetry unspoken in the depths of his mind, and they might as well stay locked until he figures out just what this emotion is.
When you offer your hand for him to get a closer inspection of the ring is when his breath seems almost stolen from his lungs. Months and months of these weekly tea meetings, and yet he feels this is the closest proximity he’s ever been to you. Here, in his antique chair in the middle of your boutique shop, holding your hand from across the table.
But he feels a spark that he prays you sense as well, for the mere desire of wanting this moment to last forever is enough to tell him that he is completely in love with you.
He leans down gently to reach closer to your hand, kissing your knuckle so featherlight next to the ring. “And it’s even more beautiful on you,” he mutters to you when he pulls away.
Your heart might’ve skipped a beat when you retracted your hand, but he has no idea—he was too lovestruck just now to even think properly. But you take just a moment to recover whilst he’s still stuck in his little daze; Though, who could blame him when he just discovered the ethereal feeling of falling in love?
“Thank you,” you exhaled with a smile that seemed a little breathless. “Lady Clorinde helped pick it, actually.”
…What?
Well, that was a name he completely forgotten until just now. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure after the sudden whiplash of emotions. From finding out he’s in love, to the pang of unwarranted negativity for the Champion Duelist. As expected, he couldn’t tell what this uncomfortable feeling was, but he certainly did not like it.
“Clorinde was there, you say?” he tried to clarify.
You nodded. A little too happily for his liking. “We went out shopping yesterday.” Oh. “And she said this ring really matched ‘the colors of my personality’, whatever that means!” you wholeheartedly laughed. The way you spoke of her, with all this smiling and all these giggles, was making him crave for something more. Did… Did you perhaps want to see him more outside of these tea times, too? You seem perfectly fine shopping with Clorinde now, after all.
He’s never gotten personal time with you like that. It’s always been solely Saturday afternoons, nothing more. And yet, Clorinde immediately gets invited to your shopping runs, and apparently her opinion is also important enough to make you buy the ring? How unbelievable. Neuvillette bets if he was there instead, he’d buy you every piece of jewelry that you even took so much as slight interest in, because that was what you deserved. But no, here he was, not invited to these outings at all, and further stuck wallowing as your mere ‘tea companion’, and not something more.
The door to the boutique suddenly opens, and the both of you turn your heads to the customer.
But instead of a client, you were met with the face of a slightly-smiling Clorinde, ever so amused to see the both of you here again. Well, she shouldn’t be amused. Neuvillette was here on schedule.
“Ah, you’re here!” you say excitedly, briskly standing up to grab another set of tea; And now, Neuvillette can’t quite tell if you greet everyone at the door with this same excitement, and it’s not just restricted to him alone. He shouldn’t be that selfish, of course, so he thinks perhaps it should just not be directed at Clorinde, specifically.
“Pardon me,” Clorinde announced, making her way to the table after you set the tea display down. “I’ll be intruding on the both of you again.” Neuvillette wishes he had any right to refuse.
This time, now that he’s regained his rightful spot on the antique chair, Clorinde had no choice but to sit… right next to you on the loveseat—the same place Neuvillette sat last week when his spot was stolen. A moment comes forth where he now no longer wants his seat at all ( which he doesn’t understand why, because shouldn’t he be happy his unspoken designated seat is back? ), and prefers the loveseat.
Maybe it was the sight of Clorinde next to you, and the fact she was sitting so much closer than he’d like to imagine. And suddenly, that’s when he realizes he doesn’t like the idea of Clorinde being this close to you at all.
“Oh! You’re wearing the ring I got you!” Clorinde recognizes. She grabbed your right hand to immediately inspect it, and Neuvillette can’t help but feel like someone just shot him. Not only did she comfortably grab your hand like it was nothing ( meanwhile, he had to find both the confidence and the breath to even try to kiss your hand earlier ), but she also got it for you? The little detail you never mentioned: That Clorinde bought you the ring.
Now Neuvillette is internally questioning what exactly this ring means. Is it akin to a proposal? A vow? A promise ring for the future?
The longer he stays here the more insane he may be driven, he thinks.
“Sorry to cut my time here short, but I think I have to get going,” he spoke up. Both Clorinde and you looked over at him, and he figured this was a good idea—he doesn’t think he can handle another tea session where the two of you are happily talking as he sits there awkwardly quiet. “I’ll be off, now.”
“Already?” you frowned at him, and that expression almost makes him want to stay. But the sight of Clorinde still absentmindedly toying with your hand sends him into a spiral of emotions he needs to sort out. He’s already stood up to leave without realizing it.
“Unfortunately so,” he says. He might’ve sounded colder than he meant to. It was clear in your face you knew something was wrong, but didn’t want to say it out of privacy. But when he walked towards the door, hearing Clorinde continue your conversation on like normal, it was fruitless to even consider it.
He opened the door. It was raining.
It feels like he was losing your love before he could even have it.
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STAGE III. — Redirecting.
Where pleasure is derived from hurting others, stemmed from unconscious feelings of envy. The envy can come in a so-called as a form of competitive implication.
The next time he saw you was around the market area in the morning, wandering the streets like a normal citizen on this wavering Wednesday.
Normally, he would have just smiled and waved at most, but this time, something compelled him to walk up and join you. “Is this where to find you on Wednesday mornings?” he asked curiously, catching your starling attention and watching as your lips curved to a smile when you recognized him.
“It is, Monsieur.” When you stepped ever-so closer to him, a mere basket around your arm being the only thing between you, he felt as if his feet had turned into bubbles, and there was a flutter of heaven around his shoulders. “My weekly groceries are scheduled for today, however I don’t recall ever seeing you on this side of the city, if that isn’t just my ignorance.”
He chuckled, “I’m usually at my office by this time, so you would be correct.” Then his arm slid against yours, taking the wooden basket out of your hands and walking a few steps forward down the market street you shopped at. “But I’m open to a change of pace, so might I join you on this lovely morning?”
The little smile of contentment you gave him when you answered “Of course” made his heart skip a beat. And when you walked forward to hook your arm around his free one, he swears to the sovereign he might simply dissolve right then and there. The closeness of your presence to him now makes his heart race in a way he feels it drumming in his chest, a feeling that is so human that it makes him almost taste the fruit of mortality. You, walking along with him as you hold onto his arm whilst he carries your grocery basket—you look like romantic partners, and he can’t help but feel sort of lightheaded at the mere thought of that.
“Ah, look!” you pointed, and Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided by the arm to a nearby vendor. “They’re selling slices of apricot pie.”
“You fancy these desserts as well?” he mused, already fishing his pockets for his wallet. “Perhaps we should purchase a slice or two and save them for our weekend tea session.”
You agreed, “I thought the same.” Then you noticed his shuffling and playfully waved off his hand, insisting he needn’t pay. “But I fear it might spoil by the time Saturday comes.”
“You want a bite of mine?” And that’s when Neuvillette wasn’t even surprised anymore to hear the voice of the Champion Duelist appearing out of nowhere. He has such horrible luck running into her, that he’s now just accepted it at this point ( or, for better words: he still has yet to accept the fact that maybe Clorinde was specifically seeking you ). She stood there, leaned against a pole with an easy-going expression and a fork in one of her hands, carrying an aluminum tin with the exact same apricot pie you were just eyeing.
You gasp at her appearance, “Sure!” Neuvillette doesn’t even have a moment to process the mere seconds it takes for you to slip away from his arm, leaving him to follow behind as you skip over to Clorinde. The uninvited guest takes it upon herself to feed you a bite with her fork—it was at this time that the Iudex began to feel like an outlier once again.
“We were actually about to buy a few slices ourselves,” Neuvillette piped in. He did it quickly, perhaps it was instinct so he wouldn’t be left out of the conversation again. “But an excellent point was brought up, that the dessert might spoil by the time we reach Saturday afternoon.”
“Why don’t you just buy one and eat it now?” Clorinde shrugged. Ah. Neuvillette internally scolded himself; He should’ve thought of that. And when you waved off her suggestion dismissively, claiming it was fine now that she let you try it, Neuvillette realized he completely missed an opportunity to have dessert with you on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday. That while he was still a man you only saw once at the end of each week, you’d be seeing Clorinde multiple times throughout it.
He wasn’t fond of the way Clorinde was still feeding you more bites of pie, either.
“Miss Clorinde,” he addressed. If only he had more of a grasp of human sociability, then he might’ve realized how firm his voice sounded in this situation that was… not so serious. “Shouldn’t you be alongside Furina at this time of day?”
“On a typical day, yes,” she answered simply. “And shouldn’t you be in your office?”
He almost glared. “No, actually, I’ve given myself the time to roam around today.”
“Oh wowww,” she teased, though Neuvillette might’ve heard it as something mocking. “Lady Furina would be pleased to hear that. Instead of being cooped up in your office or the Opera Epiclese all morning long, you’re out here at the market, even holding a basket for shopping.”
The Iudex cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have you know that this basket isn’t mine.” There was an air of competitiveness in his voice, one that almost had him biting his tongue in surprise of himself. Because it was simply just as he said: a basket. But the fact it belonged to you, and the fact that he was carrying it for you—suddenly he wanted to boast it and show it off to the world, especially to Clorinde’s face. “The two of us are shopping together this morning, if you’ll excuse us.” His next move might’ve been bold, but the feeling of possessiveness was so airtight and he had no choice but to hook his own arm around yours once more, getting ready to turn and leave.
“So cold,” Clorinde rolled her eyes. ‘Cold’ was a word often used to describe him, but no, not here. He did not want to appear that way in front of you. “Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?” she asked, this time directed at you.
Something in him snapped. There was an emotion that clouded his head far angrier than annoyance, and it sprouted from the way in which she made him look bad, like the stone-cold Chief Justice everyone thought him to be. Albeit with you, he was trying to be everything but that. Emotional, vulnerable, heartfelt, human—Clorinde was not going to take that away from him.
‘Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?’ The question kept playing in his mind, as if she was any better than him? She, who most people also saw as stoic, should not be seen by you in a better light than him. She, who did not know your favorite desserts like he did, who did not make time for you like he did, who did not fancy you as much as he did—
He felt you tug at his arm, snapping him from his thoughts.
Your eyes held the same, worried look you gave him on Saturday when he left so abruptly. So jealously.
Neuvillette cleared his throat once more. “It seems you are correct, Miss Clorinde.” There was solemness in his voice. Yet he was so quiet as he unlocked his arm from around yours, and handed your basket to Clorinde. “My attitude proves to be too unfavorable for the likes of this lovely morning, I thank you for bringing it to my attention.” These emotions were too much right now; he was starting to fear them. “My deepest apologies to you both, I’ll be heading back to the Palais Mermonia now.”
He bowed his head as diplomatically as he could manage, but the skies were already darkening.
“I bid you both a fine rest of your morning.”
“Wait, Neuvillette!”
Your call was drowned by the deafening drums of his hammering heartbeat, and the patters of light rainfall from the somber sky.
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STAGE IV. — Medea.
At this stage, the grip of envy appears almost irreversible. There is a hatred towards others that dominates their thinking, and happiness or success is no longer foreseen.
Saturday afternoon.
He couldn’t see you again, even if it was time for your weekly meeting, not when he was feeling like this.
Not when the sky was pouring from the mere thought of you, and how he’s probably already lost. It was inevitable for a man like him, and he should’ve realized so earlier. Three o’clock, and you were already probably sipping away with Clorinde at your side, pastries on the table and a dazzling ring on your finger. She was much more human than him, after all, and such a shortcoming became his eventual downfall.
The Palais Mermonia was quiet, though that might’ve been due to the endless rain that’s been pouring since Wednesday morning.
While it was nice, he couldn’t help but feel the silence only amplified his feeling of loneliness in this moment. Especially at this time: a time of the week in which he looked most forward to.
“Monsieur Neuvillette?” a Melusine knocked from right outside his door. “You have a visitor!”
And before he could even reply, that was when you ignored all formalities, all proper respect as you pushed your way through the door and into his office. The surge of panic he felt from your sudden presence was unrivaled to the way you made haste in getting seated in front of his office table, setting down your handful—said handful consisting of two teacups, and a bag of pastries.
His heart practically shattered. The familiar cups and bag of treats on the table, the way your hair and clothes were lightly damp from the rain—you made the effort, coming all the way here just to see him. Just so the both of you wouldn’t miss a single Saturday afternoon together.
“I believe you might’ve forgotten our schedule, good Monsieur.” A light scolding, yet partnered with the most comforting smile you’ve ever given him, and he starts to feel his hands tremble. “You seem surprised to see me,” you commented further, filling in the silence as he has yet to utter even a word. “Did you really think I’d just let you ditch me like that?”
It was hard to breathe, hard to find his voice when you were so patient with him. “Sorry.” It’s all he can mutter now, this blistering swell of emotions causing a waver in his voice. “I’m so, very sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you chuckled at him. His body tensed when you reached forward to grab one of his hands. But you felt cold just like the chilling rain outdoors, and now he worries you might catch a fever because of him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what was wrong, but…” Your eyes drooped with a certain sorrow in their crevices, and Neuvillette found himself slightly squeezing your hands. “I couldn’t seem to find a good moment alone with you.”
He shook his head at you, whispering, “I don’t even know what’s wrong, myself…”
You frowned. This atmosphere was suffocating and just from one glance upwards at your face, Neuvillette could easily tell you were holding back something to say. Granted, it was his fault. He’s the one who’s here, sitting and sulking in his office with little to no explanation. He’s the one who’s kept you worried this past week from leaving so abruptly two different times now. If anything, he might understand how to be a human even less after this ordeal.
“Would you be so kind…” he starts, words like lumps in his throat, “to allow me to be honest? To let me ramble whatever nonsense I’m feeling for just a moment, so that maybe you can make some sense of it all?”
You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. “Of course.”
There’s a certain phrase caught dead in his tongue. And he’s never been afraid to speak his mind before, yet suddenly, your judgment of his feelings mattered much more than the truth of his words. But he was feeling so much, and if this was really the emotional baggage humans had to carry all the time, he could only wonder how most people have yet to burst from the hauntings of their own mind.
Or more accurately so—the hauntings of their own love.
These words were doomed to come spilling out. “You’ve bewildered me with mountains of emotions,” he rambles quicker than he thinks. “All from the sleight of your hand, I best believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He forces himself to ignore how your eyes widen in that moment, or how the grip from your hands suddenly loosens from the shock that rings through his confession. He doesn’t have a way with words, and he knows this. So in a hasty attempt to piece together a board of emotional exposure his mind cannot even comprehend, he does the only thing he knows how to: talk and talk, until he has no more truth to confess to you.
“But the feelings that came alongside my love,” he began to you, “are unexplainable.” As his voice ended in coarseness, there was such an hopeless look of utter confusion you had never seen on his face before, like he was silently pleading for you to help a poor soul like his own. “The beating of my heart when I see you… A stark contrast to the tightness in my stomach I feel… When Miss Clorinde joins us.” The ending of his sentence dropped to nearly a whisper, like he expected it to be sin. “But what I just don’t understand, is why,” the section of his brows furrow in distress, “because she’s my coworker, and I do not dislike her, but I feel as if I cannot stand her when she joins us…”
You listen quietly. He doesn’t know whether to be thankful or fearful whilst awaiting your reaction.
He continued, “But when she sat with us for tea, and bought you that ring, and joined us at the market…” This confession; It was arguably harder than confessing his love to you. Because Clorinde was your friend—maybe even closer, if he was so unlucky—and he might’ve crossed a line here he didn’t even know existed. “I felt like I hated her,” he finished.
You were still silent, though it wasn’t like he could see your expression anyways. He refused to even look up to it, choosing instead to stare down at your joined hands.
But this silence was deafening. Please, just reject him already. He let out the most exhausted sigh he has ever before, the weight of these human emotions bearing down on him. “So I was just…”
“Just jealous,” you finished for him, and he noticed in your voice how you were almost laughing quietly to yourself. The emotion you just named—he didn’t know how envy even felt like, much less jealousy ( though, he supposes he knows now ). “Neuvillette, you should’ve just told me you felt uncomfortable with Clorinde there.”
“Hm?” He was confused. So confused, that his eyes finally darted up to meet your own. And there you stood, most comforting of smiles on your face as your thumb began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.
You reassured him, “Those are times we spend together, dedicated to the both of our comforts.” Which was true, but he was ready to argue that he felt selfish that way—and that you wouldn’t love nor deserve a selfish man. “I trust you to tell me when you feel things are unfavorable,” you continued, “and I promise you, Clorinde would understand if I told her.”
“But,” he piped up, so much doubt in his eyes as if struggling to believe your words, “is she not important to you?” And now, he could not comprehend the bashfulness that raised blood to his cheeks, or the complete disbelief that you’d wave off the Champion Duelist just because of his silly discomfort. Human relationships; He feared he may never understand them.
“Of course she’s important to me—she’s my friend!” you lightly laughed. “But you’re important to me, as well. Please understand that.” His heart might’ve stopped for just a moment. “And when we have our scheduled times alone together, the last thing I want to have is you feeling uneasy when we’re supposed to be relaxing.” Your words, the kindness you shed—it was all so confusing yet so welcoming at the same time, that he feels it’s only a matter of seconds until he drowns from the sound of your voice. To feel such comfort in a person was bizarre to him, but it’s a feeling that makes him crave your presence all the same.
His eyes fell to another slight frown, voice quieter as if losing the will to argue. “But… I should not have the right to impede on a relationship significant to you…”
Now it was your turn to look baffled. The way he worded it. Oh, surely he didn’t— “Monsieur, do you think Clorinde and I are a couple?”
“Well, I certainly thought you two were getting to that state in your relationship,” Neuvillette answered truthfully, voice flowing without hesitation as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. The man who just confessed his love for you only moments ago was fully convinced you felt romance for another woman. “Hence why I was…” He turned his head to the side, shyly clearing his throat. “Envious…”
You practically burst out into giggles. In fact, one of your hands even let go of his grip just so you could cover your mouth to laugh. “Oh… Oh, Neuvillette, surely you jest!” you attempted to name whilst controlling your laughter. The Iudex was shell-shocked into pure silence, wondering what he could’ve possibly said to make you react this way, because as far as he knew, he was not making a joke. “Clorinde is only a friend to me,” you clarified. “Nothing more.”
He remains silent, but there’s a sweeping wave of new emotions that suddenly flood his shoulders.
“And if she sees me as anything more, then, well,” you continued, glancing up outside and then back down to meet his awaiting eyes. “Unfortunately for her, the love in my heart has already been captured by another.”
“By whom?” The lack of hesitation from his immediate question has more giggles escaping your lips. He looks at you, and your face tells him it’s an obvious question with an obvious answer, and yet he still cannot comprehend this even when you squeeze both his hands in yours once more.
“Who do you think, Monsieur?” And yet even after his face flushes red, he still has a focused look of anticipation on his face—it’s as if he absolutely will not believe it until you spell it directly to his face. “Neuvillette,” you sighed, but there was an air of gentleness in the way you say his name that relaxed his soul. “It’s always been you.”
The rain continued on.
But now the sun shined between each droplet, because if he could cry from happiness right now, he was sure you’d already be busy wiping his tears away. And this sunny rain continued on and on, even as he poured you tea, even when he bit into the pastries you bought, and even when he looked at you fondly across his desk, not a single doubt of your love.
And as for Clorinde, well, he might need a few more days to recover before he can forgive her for all the sporadic heart attacks she’s almost given him.
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exhaslo · 6 days
Text
Over-Time Ch3
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."
The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.
"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"
You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?
Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.
"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"
"S-Sorry," You whimpered.
You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?
"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."
"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"
"It's from 7am to 2pm."
"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"
"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"
You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.
You just had to finish your shift.
And never look back.
----------
You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.
You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.
Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.
"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.
It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.
"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.
"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"
"Oh....Thank you,"
This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.
"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"
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Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.
Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.
"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"
Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.
"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"
Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.
"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.
"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.
"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."
Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?
Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.
How cute.
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Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.
Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.
"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.
"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"
"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."
Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.
"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."
"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.
"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"
"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."
Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.
"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.
"When is your vacation again?"
It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.
"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.
"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"
"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.
Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.
"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"
"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."
"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"
"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"
"Okay,"
--------
Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.
Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.
"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.
Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?
"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."
"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.
Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.
"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,
"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"
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Next Chapter
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byersbootyshorts · 1 year
Text
The accidental dumbification of Spencer Reid
“Ok, where are we going this time?” you ask as the team takes their seats around the round table.
“Rutland, Vermont,” Garcia says, grabbing the remote to switch on the screen which displays various bloody crime scene photos.
“Severed limbs have been discovered scattered all over Green Mountain National Forest,” Hotch reveals.
“Any identification?” Morgan asks while you flick through the case file, absentmindedly placing a hand on Spencer’s leg. He shifts slightly, clearing his throat.
‘None yet,” Hotch continues. “They’re pretty hard to ID when all we have is limb. However, preliminary reports suggest that the various body parts found belong to at least six different people.”
“And there’s probably more we even haven’t found yet,” Emily chimes in.
You move your hand further up Spencer’s thigh and tighten your grip at the thought of how many people could be cut up into tiny pieces and spread all over that huge forest. You’re so distracted by it you don’t even notice what you’re doing to Spencer; a bulge growing in his pants from your touch despite him willing it not to.
He swallows harshly to suppress the feeling but you mistake it for fear and instinctively rub your hand on his inner thigh. This movement only drives him more insane.
“So we have to search the entire woods? It’s a pretty big forest, right Reid?” Rossi asks, but Spencer doesn’t reply, his mind elsewhere. The team stares at him expectantly.
“Hello, earth to Dr Reid.” Morgan waves his hand in front of Spencer’s face.
“Uh, sorry, what?” Spencer snaps out of his daze.
“How big is Green Mountain Forest,” Rossi repeats.
Spencer looks down, trying to clear his head of the problem he was having down there. But he couldn’t gather his thoughts. All he could think of was the hand on his thigh.
“I- uh, I’m- I’m not sure.” he finally stutters.
The rest of the team, including you, stare at him wide eyed.
“Well, would you look at that. We finally stumped the little boy genius,” Morgan laughs. Spencer’s face turns a bright crimson.
The rest of the team giggle but you’re just confused, certain Spencer once recited to you the square mileage of every national forest in the country.
“Oh, give the kid a break,” Rossi says sympathetically. “Like we could do any better.”
The rest of the team go back to discussing the case but you give Spencer’s thigh another quick squeeze to get his attention. He turns to you and you raise an eyebrow to express your question. He understands what you’re asking and shifts his eyes down. You follow them down to where you hand sits on his thigh. A little further up his leg than you imagined. Then you see the swell in his pants and you understand.
“Oh shit,” you whisper, quickly removing your hand from him. “Sorry.”
He just smiled back at you before looking back at his files.
After a while of planning what you’ll do when you arrive in Vermont and the lack of your hand distracting him, Spencer finally collects his thoughts.
“625 square miles,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Huh?” Garcia responds.
“Green Mountain forest. It covers 625 square miles of land.” Spencer states.
“Welcome back, genius,” Emily smiles. “We missed you.”
You look back down at Spencer’s crotch to see that he’s controlled the situation he had going on earlier. You smirk, realising the power you have to dramatically drop Spencer’s IQ with a single touch.
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
Text
Alex Albon ft. Lily - Karma
Aaahhhhh, welcome to part 5 of this series! Now this one takes place farther into the season. But, I wanted to publish this series as one, instead of doing separate chapters for when they happened after races. This one is going to take place leading up to the Silverstone Grand Prix! So the July 3-ish (Austria is July 2 and Silverstone is July 9, so the week in between). As of this chapter, reader now has three different couples who would absolutely do ANTYHING for her. 
Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3 
[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]
“Are you for real?” you muttered to yourself as you looked at your mismatched luggage. You really needed to ask Lando if he could get you some new suitcases with that fancy company he has a partnership with. And someone had tried to get into your suitcase, because you noticed the latch had a few scratches on it. You’d definitely be calling the airline later. Max was right, you should have just flown in with him on Air-Max. 
Definitely next time. 
At least you had all of your luggage. You were still standing next to the carousel when another small bag caught your eye. For some reason, the tag also had your name on in. You carefully grabbed the bag with mesh windows and looked at it. This was definitely not yours. You stepped away from the area and took a seat on a bench. You placed the bag on your lap and unzipped it. Your eyes widened at the sight. 
Inside was a large, fluffy cat. Big eyes stared up at you as you stared back. Your head leaned to the side, and it’s head followed you. Your hand bolted to your phone in your pocket. You needed to call the number one cat-dad. 
The phone rang for a few before, and before Max had an opportunity to answer, you voice flooded the air. 
“Max, I have a cat and I don’t know what to do with it!” 
Max paused for a bit on the line. 
“Hello?” 
“I heard you kid. Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport?” 
You huffed. “I am. But when I was getting my bags, this carrier-thing had a tag with my name on it. I opened it and there’s a cat inside! I’m too young to be a mother.” 
“Y/n,” you could image him pinching his brow. 
“I had a goldfish once and he died three days later.” You were starting to freak out. 
“Take a deep breath.” You did as instructed. “Ok, here’s what you’re going to do. First, does the cat have any identification on it?” 
You reached in and carefully parted the cat’s fur. On his neck was a little collar with a pendent that had a figure of a horse. Other than that though, there was nothing. 
You spoke into the phone, “No. It doesn’t.” 
Max sighed on the other line. “When I fly in, I will meet you at your flat and we’ll see what we can do. Are you being picked up at the airport?” 
“No. I have to go get my car. Someone brought it last night so I could drive to my flat by myself for a few days before the race.” 
“That’s nice kid. When I get in, I’ll call and come over. Kelly has been wanting to see your flat for a while. Something about her promising you that she’ll help you decorate the rest of it? Can’t believe you didn’t ask me.” 
You deadpanned, even if he couldn’t see it. “Max, you display your championship trophy on your Red Bull mini fridge. You have no interior design instincts.”
He sputtered over the phone, before he was interrupted on the other side. “Ok kid. I’ll see you when I get there. Houd van je geitje.” (Translation : Love you kid) 
“Love you too. Have a safe flight.” You hung up and looked back down at the cat, who seemed to be more wide awake. “Hi bud.” Your hand reached under its face and scratched lightly. The cat started to purr lightly. 
You stood up after you re-zipped the carrier. Luckily, it had a shoulder strap so that your two hands could be free to get your suitcase and keys. “Ok cat, let’s get going.” 
You started to make your way to the pickup car line. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people there. You walked right up to the counter. You gave the nice lady your name and ID so that she could get your keys for you. 
As you waited, your mind drifted to your semi-new vehicle. You had finally decided what car you actually wanted, so Christian, Vito, and Max had decided to come with you for the purchase. You, of course, had matching cars. One for Monaco and one for London. Lando had begged you to get a Jolly like he had, but you wanted something a little more classy. 
Your dark green Porsches were your children. 
Unlike Max, you didn’t want to necessarily buy a car that “supported” a rival team. You were tempted with one of the new Audi models, but the two Porsches just screamed at you. It had taken a while to get approved, but they had finally become yours about two months ago. The one you kept in Monaco was an older, classier model. The one you had in London was a bit more flashy with its convertible top. 
As you were daydreaming about driving your beloved car once again, two people had come into the room. And one of them did not sound happy. 
“What do you mean our hotel has been canceled. Yes I know we still have the nights for the two days closer, but not for the next two! Where are we supposed to stay? Also, has there been any news on Horsey?” The man sighed, and sounded like he was choking back a sob. “Ok, please keep me updated.” 
Your curiosity got the better of you. Turning your head, your eyes landed on one British-Thai Williams driver and his amazing golfer-girlfriend. You decided to be friendly, and a bit nosey. 
“Hi Alex,” you almost whispered. 
His and Lily’s head whipped up at your voice. He was able to shoot you a small smile. 
“Uh, is everything ok?” you prodded. 
Alex’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find words. When he couldn’t, Lily spoke up for the two of them. 
“Well, our hotel was canceled and we really can’t find a place go figure. And the airline somehow lost Horsey.” 
You cocked your head. “How does an airline lose a whole horse?” The two of them giggled. 
Alex finally spoke up, “Logan thought that Horsey was an actual horse the first time as well. Horsey is actually my cat.” 
Your eyes bulged. You were about to speak when the nice lady returned with your keys. You quickly thanked her before walking closer to the couple. You gestured for them to follow you. Once the three of you were outside, you parked you suitcase before pulling the carrier closer. 
“So, I’m thinking that he’s actually yours then.” You handed the carrier over. You had never seen Alex act as quickly as he did. He gently placed the small bag on the floor and unzipped the top. Horsey’s head popped out and he meowed loudly at the sight of his owner. Alex scooped him up and brought him close to his face. 
You continued, “Somehow, he had one of my name tags on his bag. I’m glad that Max now doesn’t have to help me find where he’s supposed to go.” You offered a small smile as your hand now rested on the top of your suitcase handle. 
Alex now had a bright smile. “Thank you so much. I was devastated when I couldn’t find him. The airline swore that he was on the flight. I guess he just got a bit misplaced.” He turned to Lily. “Now what are we going to do about the hotel situation.” 
Lily got out her phone and started to scroll; Alex’s head was leaned over, trying to see the screen. An idea popped into your head. 
You spoke up, “Well, my flat has a guest bedroom and my car is big enough to hold the luggage.” You shrugged as you pointed in what you hoped was the direction of your Porsche. 
Lily shook her head, “We don’t want to intrude.” 
Your hands waved in front of you. “Nonsense. I invited first. And besides, a friend of Logan’s is a friend of mine.” 
Alex looked shy as he smiled, “Well if you don’t mind. It would only be for a night or two!” He quickly added that last bit. Redness flushed his embarrassed face. 
“Perfectly fine. I think Max and Kelly are coming over tomorrow if that’s ok,” you asked as you made your way to the car, Alex and Lily followed. 
“Y/n. It’s your flat, we don’t care.” You popped the trunk and struggled to get your suitcase in. Stupid clothes. Alex quickly shoved the fur ball into your arms and took yours and Lily’s suitcases. The two of you smiled at each other as you also watched Alex struggle. 
“What did you both pack in here?” 
“Clothes,” your voices sounded at the same time. A smirk was shared as the trunk finally was able to be closed. You handed the cat back to Alex as you opened your door. Lily climbed into the passenger seat, while Alex took up the back row with Horsey. 
You carefully turned your car on, and it rumbled to life. You slowly backed out of the parking space, turned, and headed to the exit. As you stopped at the stop sign, your finger pressed the button for the top to fold back. As soon as your car was outside the garage, the sun seemed to fill up the extra space around your group. 
As you drove to your flat, you mentioned, “Lily, you can play some music if you’d like to.” 
She swiped up on her phone and connected it to the Bluetooth. “Any song you want to listen to?” 
You thought for a moment. What song could you choose and not be embarrassed to death. Lily seemed like a T-Swizzle woman. 
“Uh, how about Karma by Taylor Swift?” You thought that Lily would be the excited one, but a gasp from Alex had your eye brows raised. 
Lily rolled her eyes, “Alex is such a swiftie.” 
It was your turn to gasp, “I say when we’re all together, us, Daniel, and Lando need to go to a concert together.”
“Lando is Swiftie?” 
“A closeted one, but a swiftie none-the-less. I think Charles is one too.” 
Alex also added, “George is one as well.” 
“Shut up. I love that. Go Carmen.” Lily finally took this opportunity to sing. You rolled the dial for the volume and turned it up. As the car flew down the street, the three of you screamed at the top of your lungs. 
“Karma is a cat!” Alex held Horsey up in the middle. 
“Purring in my lap cause he loves me,” Lily say along. You had been able to put your sunglasses on. You felt cool. Look at you, hanging out with adults. If Max could see you now. 
The drive to your flat wasn’t a long one and you got there quickly. As the car came to a stop under the covered walkway, your doorman came out to meet you. 
“Hi Richard,” you sweetly said to the older man. He wasn’t like grandpa old, more like Christian-old. 
“Welcome back ma’am. I see you’ve brought visitors?” He gazed at the driver and golfer. 
“Yes sir. They’re staying for a couple of days. Something went wrong with their hotel.” By now, Lily had been given Horsey and Alex was working on getting the luggage out. 
“Glad to see that you’ve taken Mr. Verstappen’s advice.” Richard smiled at you. 
You scoffed. “Max just thinks that I have no friends.” 
Richard replied, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you really don’t.” You heard Alex laugh behind you. Your eyes squinted at the Thai. 
“I will leave you down here.” Alex looked worried for a bit before Richard started to laugh. “Richard I don’t pay you enough to laugh at me.” 
“Y/n, you don’t pay me.” 
“I know. All right folks, let’s go upstairs.” You took your suitcase from Alex and hauled it behind you. Richard always so kindly parked your car for you. Something about how he didn’t want you to have to walk from the parking area to the door. 
The elevator was filled with a comfortable silence. You quickly sent a text to Max to explain the situation. He and Kelly were already planning to stay at a hotel nearby. Your flat was open to them if they didn’t want to sit in the room. 
The elevator doors opened and you led the pair to your door. You looked over fondly at Logan’s door as you unlocked your own. You would have invited him over as well, but he wasn’t getting in until later. 
Once the lock had clicked, you opened the door and was met with the scent that was undeniably you. The warm hints of vanilla and cinnamon wafted around the space. You were so glad that the automatic air freshener had kept working while you were gone. Your apartment in Nice never smelled the best, and it was so depressing to come back to. 
“Welcome to mi casa, that’s French for front door.” You channeled you inner George Russell and held your hands out wide, showing off your living room. The pair just looked at you a bit strangely. You put your hands back down. “That’s actually not French, uh, Arthur and Charles would have my head.” 
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but it’s too late to change anything. “Uh, I can show you the room? It’s not decorated the best, but there’s a pretty big bed and closet space.” You turned around to start walking down the hallway. They followed you closely. 
Once you opened the room, the two gasped. You winced, thinking that it was a bad one. 
“Y/n this is so lovely,” Lily told you, putting her hand on your shoulder. 
You beamed at the praise. 
“Thank you,” you shyly muttered. Alex still had a look of shock and awe as he stepped into the room. You think that the big window helped bring the room in a lot. 
“You need to tell me how you decorated this,” Lily spoke as she looked around the room. You rubbed the back of your neck. 
“Well, Kelly helped me a lot. And I spent a questionable amount of time on Pinterest. The rest of the house still needs some help, but the bedrooms were the easiest to get done.” 
“It looks great,” Alex finally found his voice. 
“Thank you. You two are welcome to look around. I’m going to go unpack and take a shower. Did you two want to go to dinner? Or we can stay in and I can make something?” 
The girlfriend and boyfriend looked at each other, silently communicating. Finally Lily broke eye contact and looked at you. 
“If you don’t mind, and if it’s no trouble, we’d like to stay in.” 
“You two both agreed with that by looking into each other’s eyes?” They nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll go to the store after.” 
Lily offered to go with you and you happily accepted. The minute you got to your room, you allowed yourself to breathe. You shot a quick text to the group chat with you, Max, and Kelly. 
Little Racer: 
Hey, so we made it and I’m making dinner tonight  Do you two want to join? 
Big Racer: 
Sure kid. We land in a few hours.  Just let us know when you want us to come over! 
The Better Half:   
Hi sweetie, sounds good.  Are we still on to go out tomorrow? 
Little Racer: 
Max you still need to learn how to not type with punctuation Yep I’m all good! Also, Lily and Alex are staying with me for a bit, could I invite her as well?? Max and Alex can do something manly 
Big Racer: 
eXcUsE mE? Interior design is manly enough 
Little Racer: 
*Blink* sure 
The Better Half: 
Max, I love you, but your apartment is terrible  We’ll talk more about it at dinner  See you then Y/n <;3 
Little Racer: 
Bye Kellyyyyy &lt;3 Bye Max
Big Racer: 
Why does SHE get a heart and not me :( See you soon kid 
You placed your phone down on your charger and got clothes for after your shower. You didn’t want to take long, as there were guests that you needed to entertain. You just stuck to the basics to get the stale airplane air off of your skin. You’d feel better once you smelled like yourself. You changed right after, not caring about your wet hair. 
You were pleased to see the two on your couch. You worried that they might have felt as though they needed to wait for your instruction. You grabbed your cross body bag and your sneakers. 
“Lily will you be ready to go in the next few? Also, Max and Kelly might come back while we’re gone, so Alex could you let them in?” Alex gave you a nod and Lily let you know that she was ready whenever you were. You slipped your shoes on and headed for the door, Lily was right behind you.
You had texted Richard beforehand that you were coming down soon. It was nice to see your car waiting for you. Richard held the keys on his finger that you took as you passed. You have him a quick thanks and tipped him well. He had told you time and time again that he was paid more than enough, but you never listened. You weren’t stingy with the people who were good to you. 
The trip to the store was uneventful. You were thankful that Lily was with you so that she could buy some adult drinks that your ID would not be enough for. The plan for the meal was simple enough. Something that could cater to your, Max’s, and Alex’s diets without any one of your trainers getting onto you. 
When you got back, you noticed an unfamiliar car in the front. You shrugged at the sight, knowing it was probably Max and Kelly’s rental for the first few days. As you opened the door, you could hear Alex and Max talking wildly. You rolled your eyes. 
“Wow, thanks guys for the offer to help with the groceries. Real nice.” The two immediately shot up and you laughed. Alex took Lily’s bags while Max took yours. Kelly stood up to give you a hug. 
“Hi Y/n,” she said, bringing you into her arms. You squeezed tight. It had been a while since you’ve seen her outside of “work.” 
After you let go, Kelly reached over to give Lily a hug as well. Seeing the two women in conversation, you made your way to the kitchen. 
“Kid, your lack of Red Bull in your fridge is disturbing,” Max said once he saw you. 
“Was that a Star Wars quote?” you asked, giving him a hug. 
“Possibly.” He shot you a sneaky smile. By your legs, Horsey had started to rub up against you. You leaned down to pet him. 
“I think he likes you,” Alex said in a sing-song voice. You just scoffed as you pet him.
“Everyone likes me.” Now that earned you a scoff from Max. You looked up at him and raised your eyebrow. “Name one person who doesn’t.” 
“Marko?” Max questioned with a wince.
“False. He texted me early and said that we need to get brunch this weekend. You’re losing your spot as Red Bull’s golden child.” Max only responded with an eye roll. 
Alex thought hard as well. “Uh, there’s that one journalist who seems to hate you. What’s his name again?” 
You rolled your eyes at the mention, “Louise Tynker. Mans has made it his mission to get me to say the wrong things. Like last week he asked if I thought Daniel should have taken Checo’s seat instead of me.” 
Max smirked, “And what did you tell him?” He took a sip from his drink. 
“I told him that Daniel is a great driver, but Christian made a decision to put me in the seat instead. Sorry that I didn’t know I was in the running for even being considered to take the seat.” 
“And what did you say after that?” Oh. 
You exhaled a laugh, “I told him that his microphone might get more juicy answers if he got it out of his ass.” 
“That’s my kid.” Max raised a hand and you hit it. Alex’s eyes were wide at the confession of the story before he started to laugh as well. You quickly got the dinner ready, and before you knew it everyone was enjoying themselves at your table. 
As you picked at your food, you decided to ask, “So do you two want to come with us to look at decorations or do you want to just stay here?” 
Lily groaned, “Alex has no design skills.” Alex gawked at her. 
Kelly spoke up too, “Same with Max. Y/n are you sure you wanted to invited them?” All eyes were on you and you shrank back into your chair. 
“Uh. He can’t be worse than Max?” 
Max squawked in his seat, trying to come up with an argument. 
Lily cut into her dish, “Trust me, he is. He put all of his trophies in the laundry room.” 
You looked over at him, “Alex, you know trophies are supposed to be displayed on mini fridges, not washers and dryers.” 
“Hey! Leave my championship trophy and mini fridge alone. You can’t talk cause you don’t have one.” 
You quickly pointed to your F2 championship trophy in the beautiful display case that was the centerpiece in your living room. You raised an eye brow. “Wanna try again?” 
“Trophies don’t belong on mini fridges.” 
You looked at Alex. 
“And not on washers and dryers.” 
You, Lily, and Kelly all hummed in agreement before getting back to the conversation. Tomorrow would be hectic, but you’d have fun. 
Hopefully.
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Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost @misartymis @boiohboii @alexander-hamilhoe @jayda12 @indesicivelyconfuzzled @fangirl125reader @itscrzy @xcharlottemikaelsonx @fionaschicken @torchbearerkyle @ineedafictionalman @loaksmuntxa @classiclitfreak @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense @luisie @jayda12 @comfortzonequeen @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @inejghafawifesblog @treehouse-mouse
611 notes · View notes
snixkers · 2 months
Text
Lost & Found
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader
Angst
For: Anonymous Request
Summary: After receiving notes from an unknown sender, you realize that your stalker is closer than you thought.
Content Warning: Abduction, stalking, restraints, canon compliant violence
Author's Note: Did my best! Anon wanted a PLL storyline, so I tried to incorporate that as best as I could.
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN
It had been a week since the flowers had shown up on your doorstep with a note from ‘A’. You were certainly confused. You’d never dated anyone with a name that had an A, and none of your friends were confessing to it, so you were sure it was probably a fluke on the part of the delivery man.
Until it happened again. You were sitting at your desk when you got a call from an unknown number. You picked up, assuming it was a spam or a butt dial, when the voice spoke up.
How was work today?
The words sent a chill down your spine. Once could be written off as a mistake, but two times was enough to confirm what you were worried about. You had a stalker. Before you could reply, the caller hung up, leaving you dumbfounded at your desk.
You told the team, and they all did their best, but there wasn’t much even Garcia could do. The call had been traced to a payphone, and the flowers were paid for in cash. On the security cameras, the man was wearing enough to obscure any details that would have been important for identification. He was good.
The next couple weeks, you resigned yourself to just putting up with it. You carried pepper spray, tasers, anything you could. Your commute was now carpooling, and you used the buddy system to the best of your ability. But one day, the batteries in your smoke detector went out, meaning you were officially going insane from the noise.
You slipped into some sneakers to head to the convenience store down the street, grabbing your keys and phone.The streets were dark, with the occasional car passing by. You made your way inside and searched for the batteries before finally coming across a pack of AAs. The man standing at the register watched you come up, scan your items, and swipe your card. As you picked the package up, you noticed his nametag: Alex.
Oh, shit.
Something hit the back of your head and you passed out cold.
-----
The team had been searching for you relentlessly, calling in every favor possible. They tracked your credit card to the corner store, where they watched the cashier come up behind you and take you out. They found out he didn’t even work there, but they were able to track his car to a man named Alex Pinof.
The team pulled up outside his house, guns raised and ready to go. Derek kicked the door down and they swarmed the building, clearing the rooms. They found you in the basement, bound and gagged but otherwise unharmed. Hotch went to arrest Alex while Emily untied you, leading you out of the basement and up to the main floor.
Spencer pulled you into a tight hug and you returned the favor, gripping him as tight as possible.
“I was scared you weren’t going to find me.”
He shook his head, burying his face in the top of your head and giving it a small kiss.
“I’ll always find you.”
264 notes · View notes
sebscore · 1 year
Note
part 2 to the Ollie x leclerc!reader where she’s at an f3 race watching her brother and Ollie
HER BAKU BEAU
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pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader 
warnings: swearing. francesco is made up lol.
author’s note: lol yall know I had to write about this weekend, cause charles + ollie absolutely carried!! its not a f3 race, but im sure this is good as well :)
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''I can't believe mum let me go.'' Y/N told Ollie over the phone, sitting almost alone in the airport lounge as she waited for her plane to start boarding. 
She could hear her boyfriend chuckle on the other side. ''I'm grateful for her, though. You're gonna see me race tomorrow.'' His excited tone put a smile on her face, touched that he was so happy to see her. 
''I just can't miss any of it; you got pole, charles got pole- I just have to be there!'' 
It had been a task convincing her mother to let her go to the Grand Prix, usually only going when it was during school breaks or if it was in Monaco, Italy or France. However, Charles' pole position and the fact that she didn't have school on Monday had helped her case immensely, and Pascale agreed to let her attend the GP. 
The youngest Leclerc was instructed by her mother to listen to her brothers no matter what- something Arthur was definitely going to abuse- but aside from that, she had trust in her daughter and knew she wouldn't do anything reckless or dangerous. 
''It was the craziest lap, I swear!'' Ollie exclaimed, recalling the chaos that was his final lap after damaging his car. ''It could have gone so wrong.'' 
''Yeah, but it didn't! It was perfect, you were perfect.'' Y/N smiled. 
''Thank you, darling.'' 
The term of endearment had blood rushing to her cheeks, she glanced around the lounge and hoped no one noticed her flustered state. ''You're welcome.'' 
''I can hear you blushing.'' Ollie laughed. 
Little Leclerc scoffed. ''I am not! I'm not blushing.'' She lied, pressing her palm to her cheek as a way to cool herself down. 
''You are! It's okay, I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to make you blush.'' The Brit said, matter-of-factly. 
'Your boyfriend'
They had been together for about 6 months yet she still wasn't used to Ollie referring to himself as her boyfriend. Not in a bad way, in a 'this feels like a dream and I'm going to wake up any minute'-way. 
''This is the pre-boarding call for flight 91B to Baku. We are now inviting any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time. Please have your identification and boarding pass ready.'' The monotone female voice announced over the speakers. 
''Hey, Ollie. I have to go board now.'' Y/N was still underage so she fell under the 'special assistance' category. ''I'll see you tomorrow, alright?'' She bid him goodbye. 
''Yeah, let me know when you've landed.'' It wasn't late in Azerbaijan, but she could recognize the fatigue in Ollie's voice. 
''You'll be sleeping, though.'' She chuckled, knowing she would arrive quite late in the evening and that the Prema driver would be getting the much needed sleep for his sprint race tomorrow. 
He shrugged his shoulders. ''So? I know it will like unconsciously make me feel assured that you landed safely.'' He reasoned, his explanation warming her heart. 
''You really are a charmer, huh?'' Y/N got up from her seat and grabbed her suitcase, moving to the right gate. 
She could hear a small laugh on the other side. ''If you say so.'' 
''I'm going to board now- I'll see you tomorrow, bye bye!'' 
''Can't wait! Bye, love!'' And with that the couple ended their call. 
Before pulling her boarding pass and ID out of her bag, she sent a quick text to their sibling group chat. Since she was travelling on her own, Lorenzo wanted her to give as many updates as she could. 
| Little Leclerc: boarding now, will text when we take off x 
| Thur Thur: don't die 🙂
| Enzo TL: Have a safe flight! See you soon, chérie! X 
| Enzo TL: Arthur, be nice! 
| Charlito: safe flight, bébé :) ❤️
| Charlito: tell the staff if you need anything!! 
| Thur Thur: she's 17, not 7 😒
| Enzo TL: you are the only one acting like a 7 year-old! 😙
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''He's on pole again!'' The atmosphere in the Ferrari garage was out of this world as Charles took the pole position in the sprint shootout. Everyone clapped and was thrilled the Monégasque was able to retain the top position. 
Andrea urged Y/N to follow him to Parc Fermé with some of the other Scuderia crew to celebrate another pole position for her brother behind the fence. 
''Charlie!'' The voice of his sister grabs his attention and he made his way over to the youngest Leclerc and his trainer. Charles pulled her into a hug, kissing the side of her head. ''Two pole positions!'' She said, holding up two fingers. 
''I didn't think we would be able to pull that off.'' Charles sighed, putting his bracelets on that Andrea handed to him. 
They nodded at him, understanding his doubt. ''But you did it! Now we have to get ready for the sprint and push as much as we can.'' His trainer encouraged him, wanting Charles to be as positive as possible.  
''Cha, I think you have to go do your interview.'' Y/N pointed behind him, seeing the F1TV staff waiting for the Ferrari driver. 
Charles let out a deep breath, not in the mood and just wanting to prepare himself for the sprint race. ''I'll be right back.'' He begrudgingly turned around and walked over to the interviewer and cameraman, still politely greeting them. 
Y/N tried focusing on Charles as he spoke to the woman, but Andrea lightly pushed her shoulder with his. She glanced at him in confusion. ''What?'' 
''For F2- which garage are you going to?'' 
She scoffed at the question, a shy smile forming on her lips. ''You're really asking me that?'' 
The Italian shrugged his shoulders. ''I'm curious.'' The teasing smirk on his face was evidence that it was more than simple curiosity. 
''I'm going to Thur's garage.'' She answered, looking down at her shoes. 
She'd had this exact conversation with Lorenzo the night before in the car. Although, it was a bit more serious than the one she was having with Andrea at the moment. 
Her and Ollie had agreed to keep their relationship private for as long as circumstances allowed it. They were both aware certain fans could get a little crazy and Y/N already received hate comments for simply being Charles' sister, something she couldn't exactly control. 
So, showing up at the Prema Racing garage wouldn't exactly be ''low key'' as Enzo had explained it to her. 
''He won't say it, but Thur really wants you in his garage.'' Her older brother told her while driving back to their hotel. ''He really likes Ollie, but you're his sister, you know? I think if you would stand with the Prema's, he would think that you're not rooting for him.'' 
Y/N understood what he meant, and deep down she knew it was more important to stand on Arthur's side. Her brother might tease and annoy her, but he deeply loves her and her support means everything to him. 
The sudden reappearance from Charles brought her back to the present. 
''Here,'' he put the cap he had been given on her head, ''you can have it.'' It was obvious he wasn't a fan of the beglittered cap that functioned as a prize for winning the sprint shootout. 
''Thanks, I guess.'' Y/N chuckled. 
Charles patted her head. ''Maybe you should start heading to the F2 paddock, you don't want to be late.'' 
''Francesco is taking me later.'' His sister answered. Francesco was part of the Scuderia Ferrari crew, but also worked with the FDA drivers. He had offered to take Y/N with him to the DAMS garage since he had to check up on both Arthur and Ollie. 
Her brother nodded. ''Good, don't want you to get lost again.'' He teased, jokingly rolling his eyes at the reminder of Silverstone last year. 
''Hey! That was Arthur's fault, he shouldn't have left me alone.'' She defended herself, not liking the implication that she had gotten lost by herself while it was Arthur that had decided to leave her all by herself in the Prema hospitality. 
Charles smirked at her. ''You got a boyfriend out of it, didn't you? You should be a little more grateful to Arthur.'' 
Y/N slapped her brother's arm, much to the amusement of the Ferrari crew and nearby lurking reporters, their cameras capturing the moment between the siblings. 
Charles glimpsed at something behind her, pointing his finger. ''Francesco's there, I'll see you later, okay?'' He pulled his sister in a quick hug again, bidding her goodbye. 
''Bye, Cha!'' 
The walk to the F2 paddock and garages wasn't too long and the good weather made it more enjoyable as well. She knew Francesco from when Charles joined the academy so they were well acquainted with one another. 
While making their way to the DAMS garage, Y/N and Francesco pass the Prema one. The youngest Leclerc slowed down, confusing the older man next to her as he had no idea about the relationship between her and Ollie. 
The feeling of disappointment sneaked up on her when Ollie wasn't in sight. She'd hoped she would be able to get a glimpse of him before the sprint race started, not having seen him for a few weeks now. 
However, his dad and trainer noticed her. David and Jamie nodded their heads, subtly greeting her. Y/N reciprocated the action, happy she at least got to see part of his team. 
Once she arrived at the French team's camp, she was met by Lorenzo warming Arthur up for his race. ''Took you long enough.'' Arthur joked, almost missing the ball that his older brother dropped out of his hand. 
''I wish I had one of those electric steps, they'd really help me out.'' She said, sitting down on one of the empty chairs. 
Francesco shook hands with both brothers. ''I'll take over, Enzo.'' The Monégasque nodded in appreciation and handed over the tennis balls to the older man, and sat down next to his sister. 
''Nice hat.'' He snickered, resulting in Y/N rolling his eyes at him. ''So, uh, you've seen Ollie yet?'' Lorenzo asked, whispering the last part of his question. 
The youngest Leclerc sibling shook her head. ''No, we passed by Prema, but I only saw his dad and Jamie.'' She explained to him. 
Lorenzo nodded along to her words. ''He did really good yesterday, getting pole with a damaged car and a steering wheel that's not hanging right- absolutely crazy!'' 
Y/N beamed at her brother's small summary of Ollie's amazing qualifying from the day before, delighted he had nothing but nice words for her boyfriend. ''I know! I watched it during recess, I was like, trying not to start yelling.'' 
''I can imagine,'' her older brother smiled, ''but you're here for your brother now, okay? So don't start screaming for Prema when you're in the DAMS garage.'' His tone turned more serious, almost sounding like he was scolding the young girl. 
''Of course. I'm happy to be here, Enzo.'' She shrugged his words off, understanding what he was trying to tell her. 
He simply nodded and focused himself back on the other youngster. ''I think it's time to get in the car, Tutur.'' Lorenzo told Arthur who sighed, but gave himself an encouraging nod. 
Before walking over towards his engineer, the youngest brother stopped next to his sister. ''I know I'm starting behind your boyfriend, but root for me, okay?'' Arthur pointed at himself, as if solidifying that she's there for him. 
Y/N gave him a side hug. ''You really think I would come all the way here to not support you?'' Her brother's words surprised her, Arthur wasn't usually the one to explicitly ask for her support. 
''Merci, bébé,'' a soft smile found its way to the Monégasques' face, ''okay, bye now.'' Arthur pinched her side, causing his sister to pull away from him in annoyance. 
''I was worried you two actually got along for a second.'' Lorenzo commented, holding both of his siblings' shoulders and moving them to the garage. 
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''LECLERC LOST IT AS WELL!'' The commentary of Alex Brundle sounds as Arthur retired from the race, almost crashing into the wall. Y/N let out a deep breath as he stepped out of his car, relieved her brother seemed visibly not in pain. 
She took a glance at the leaderboard and saw Ollie overtaking Frederic before the safety car was called. A soft smile planted itself on her face, before it was wiped away by the sight of the disappointed mechanics as their two drivers didn't finish the race. 
While they waited for Arthur to get back, Y/N and Lorenzo followed the remainder of the sprint race which finished under the safety car, and Ollie took his first win of the season. 
The young girl was over the moon for her boyfriend, knowing how much the first three races had let him down. However, the way Arthur stormed passed her and Lorenzo didn't give her enough time to enjoy the moment. 
''Arthuro, calm down!'' Lorenzo told his younger brother, not a fan of the defeated Arthur that sat in front of him. 
His hands went through his hair, his behaviour screaming frustration. ''I fucked up! Why did I fucking stay behind Théo?'' He muttered to himself. 
''There was a lot going on, you just got distracted.'' Y/N tried comforting him. The restart had been absolute chaos, a total of 6 cars retiring from the race. 
Arthur's head shot up at her words. ''That's the thing! I shouldn't have gotten distracted!'' 
''Hey! Pipe down, okay? No need to be yelling at your sister.'' Lorenzo argued, not a fan of his agitated tone and loud voice. 
The driver loudly sighed, but mumbled a quiet ''sorry''. He took a few more moments to calm himself down, before glimpsing at his sister. ''Shouldn't you go celebrate your boyfriend?'' 
The usual teasing Arthur momentarily came back, a small smirk hanging on his lips. ''I want to be here with you, Thur.''  
His gaze softened at his sister's sweetness. Arthur didn't say anything further, simply reaching his arms out for her and pulling her into a hug. ''I hate it when you're nice to me.'' 
''Don't lie, you bimbo.'' Y/N chuckled, not letting the hug last long due to his sweating. ''Please, take a shower- you smell.'' She pushed her brother away. 
''Alright, alright.'' 
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| ollie 🧸: fred and his team are gone :) 
| ollie 🧸: just me, dad and jamie 
| y/n ❤: 5 minutes x
She wanted to slap the teasing smiles off of her brothers’ faces as she bid them goodbye. ''If you're not at the exit on time, I'm personally knocking that door down and dragging you back home.'' Lorenzo semi-threatened her, a lame attempt at making a stern face. 
''Yeah, yeah. I'll be there.'' Y/N promised her brother, quickly making her way out of the door and to her boyfriend's driver room. 
All of the F2 team rooms were on the same floor so it didn't take her long to arrive at the Prema room. She knocked three times and opened the door. 
The three men inside glanced up from their phone, the youngest one immediately standing up and taking a few big steps towards her. ''Hey!'' Ollie engulfed her in a hug, his head resting on her shoulder. 
''Congratulations, race winner!'' Y/N giggled, rubbing his back. 
''It was fucking crazy-''
''Language, Oliver.'' David interrupted him, reminding his son that he needed to drop the swearing. 
Ollie rolled his eyes. ''Sorry, dad,'' he apologised, his cheeks colouring red, ''it was really really crazy- like suddenly a bunch of cars were out and I was in P2. I knew the safety car was coming out so I quickly overtook Fred and-'' 
''Ollie, breathe.'' His girlfriend interrupted his rambling, watching him getting out of breath as his chest went up and down at a fast pace. 
The Prema driver looked taken aback, but nodded his head and took a deep breath. ''Yeah, anyway- it was amazing. I hope Arthur's okay, though.'' He had seen how his former teammate didn't finish, but wasn't aware of the circumstances. 
''Yeah, he just got distracted by the entire mess and couldn't get out of it.'' Y/N explained to them, pouting at the reminder of her brother's DNF. 
The three of them nodded. ''That happens sometimes, it was indeed a mess.'' Jamie sympathised. 
''Here,'' Ollie grabbed her shoulder and pointed at the chair he was previously sitting on, ''sit down, sit down.'' He gently guided her forward to sit down. 
Y/N swiftly shook her head. ''No, no. You just did a race, I'll stand- it's not a problem.'' 
The gears in the young man's head seemed to stop working as he simply stared at her, not expecting her to refuse the seat and offer it to him. ''Uh, no, I- uh…'' Ollie stuttered. 
''You know what, kids? We have to go do something so behave in here, alright?'' David interrupted his son once again, sensing an awkward moment coming up and wanting to save him from that. 
His dad and Jamie got up from their seats and moved out of the driver's room, his trainer sending him a wink before closing the door. 
The couple slowly found each other's eyes, bursting out in laughter once they were sure the two men were gone. ''He's so embarrassing, I swear.'' Ollie sighs, taking his dad's original seat. 
''At least they left us alone- Enzo would rather die than leave the two of us alone.'' Y/N retorted, sitting down on Ollie's chair. 
The Brit laughed at her words, despite knowing it was 100% the truth. ''Yeah, I guess- anyway, I'm happy you're here.'' A soft smile formed on his face and he grabbed her hand that laid on the armrest. 
The Monégasque mirrored his expression. ''Me too. I really missed you.'' She squeezed his hand, sending a wink his way. 
''I missed you too. These last weeks have been hectic and as much as I love our Facetimes- it's been really hard not seeing you in person.'' He confessed. 
Ollie didn't want to make her feel bad about all the time they've spent apart the last weeks. Their schedules simply never seemed to align. When he had days off, she was busy with school and when she wasn't studying, he had to train or compete. 
Y/N pouted at his words. ''It's been hard for me too. My brothers see you more than I do,'' she teased, ''but I'm here now.'' The young girl smiled at her boyfriend. 
''Yeah, I'm really happy about that.'' Ollie intertwined their hands, less shy about showing affection now that they were alone. 
''So you're planning on doing a clean sweep or what?'' Y/N chuckled, remembering he had been first in every session during the ongoing weekend. 
The Prema driver shook his head, chuckling as well. ''The team has been doing so great this weekend- it would be nice to take the win tomorrow and it would be even better if you could come watch me on the podium…'' He trailed off, a sneaky look on his face. 
''You know people will talk about it if I show up there and Thur isn't on the podium.'' She told him, carrying a doubtful expression. 
Ollie nodded, understanding her concerns. ''Yeah and for all I know, I might not even end up on the podium so maybe we're worrying over nothing.'' He mumbled the last bit under his breath, the possibility of something going wrong clouding his mind. 
Y/N noticed and shuffled her chair closer to him. ''Hey,'' her hand cupped his cheek, ''you're gonna win tomorrow, like- don't tell Arthur this- but you're owning everyone right now.'' 
Her boyfriend chuckled at her words, his loving gaze settling on her. ''This weekend has just been so perfect… I don't know, you've seen my luck so far this season. I'm just scared that something is gonna go wrong.'' Ollie confided in her, voicing the thoughts in his head. 
''Nothing will go wrong tomorrow! You put a damaged car on pole, Ollie!'' She laughed, gently pushing his shoulder. ''You're gonna do amazing and you're gonna make history.'' 
''You seem to have a lot of fate in me.'' Ollie smirked, his girlfriend's words making him feel better about himself and his race tomorrow. 
Y/N teasingly rolled her eyes. ''If you don't like it, I can go and support someone else- what's his name again, Zane?'' She pretended to want to support his rival instead of him, knowing it would annoy him. 
''Hey! Not fair!'' Ollie exclaimed, lightly giving her arm a tap. ''Me and Arthur are the only people you should support. Not the Barbados boy.'' He whined to her, trapping her in a hug. 
The girl laughed into his neck, happy to get such a response out of her boyfriend. The couple stayed like that for a little while, enjoying each other's company and appreciating the time they were spending together. 
''Bear, what time is it?'' Y/N asked him, suddenly remembering her promise to Lorenzo. 
Ollie pulled out his phone from his pocket. ''Uh, 17:08.'' He answered, putting it back. 
''Shit! I have to go.'' Her loud reactions to his words made him flinch as she jumped up from his arms. ''I promised Enzo I would be at the exit in like 2 minutes or he would bust down the door.'' She explained hastily upon seeing Ollie's puzzled face. 
''He's not gonna break the door.'' The Brit snickered before glancing at his girlfriend's serious expression. ''Alright, he might break down the door. I'll see you later.'' He pecked her cheek, swallowing down his disappointment she had to go already. 
''Don't forget we're getting ice cream later!'' She reminded him of their little date later in the evening. 
''No, no! I'll be there!''
''You better, Bearman!'' 
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''OLIVER BEARMAN WHO WON THE SPRINT RACE YESTERDAY AND NOW HE LOOKS UP AND SEES THE CHEQUERED FLAG AS THE WINNER OF THE FEATURE! OLIVER BEARMAN DOES THE DOUBLE IN BAKU! WHAT A WEEKEND FOR THE BRITISH DRIVER!'' 
Y/N had a hard time to not freak out and start screaming as she watched her boyfriend do something no one F2 driver had done before, not even her own brother had been able to do it 6 years before. 
Lorenzo took a glance at his sister next to him, noticing the obvious joy on her face. 
He nudged her shoulder. ''He did great, didn't he?'' Her oldest brother whispered, an unfeigned smile present. 
She shyly looked at him, glancing down at her shoes. ''Yeah… I'm very proud of him.'' Her words came out quite slowly as she didn't want the people around them to hear who she was talking about. 
A conflicting thought rushed through Lorenzo's mind, something that might have repercussions that wouldn't be able to be reversed later. 
''How about you go to Charles already? I'm sure he'd love to spent some time with you before his race.'' Her brother didn't look at her while talking, focusing himself on Arthur's car that was making its way back into the DAMS garage. 
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, confused as to why she would leave without them. ''But what about you and Thur?'' She asked him, turning towards him. 
''He still has to debrief with the team and we don't want you to be bored with that,'' he explained, still not sparing her a glance, ''you should go now, honey. The podium ceremony is gonna start and you don't want to be stuck in the crowd, do you?'' 
Her face brightened once she understood what he was actually saying. He wants her to be there for Ollie when he takes the top step of the podium. 
''Yeah, I'll get going then,'' she took off her headset and gave it to her brother, ''tell Thur I'm proud of him.'' She swiftly added, feeling slightly bad about leaving before saying anything to Arthur. 
''I will, now go.'' Lorenzo gave her a little push. 
Y/N scattered out of the DAMS garage, trying hard not to look like a fool as she tried to walk as fast as she could to Parc Fermé. She hoped she would be on time and not miss it, cause otherwise it wasn't worth it speeding past all these people and almost running into them. 
Ollie, Enzo and Théo already stood on the podium when she finally made it there, relief going through knowing that she wasn't too late for his special moment. The youngest Leclerc slowed down her steps, wanting to stay for as long as she could without being photographed or appearing on the large screen. 
The British national anthem started playing, Ollie visibly scanning the crowd in hopes he would spot a certain person. 
Luckily for him, he found her. 
It was like fate had schemed the moment; Y/N looked up at Ollie right as he looked down at her- their eyes finding one another. 
A rush of confidence went through Ollie's body, aware of the incredible feat he just achieved that won't be repeated any time soon. They held eye contact, and the young girl nearly stopped in her tracks as she shared a special moment with the boy she had grown very fond of over the last 9 months. 
Ollie surprised by sending a wink her way, clearly not having done it a lot as he closed both of his eyes while doing it. Her cheeks flushed, flustered by the unexpected action that put a small smile on the Brit's face. 
Despite her unhurried steps, she had reached the end of Parc Fermé. In a moment of bravery, she gave her boyfriend a quick wave before making her way to the Ferrari hospitality. 
Y/N pulled out her phone and opened her Whatsapp, typing a message she knew would make the Prema driver laugh. 
| y/n ❤: very proud of u, oliver winkman x 
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Liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and 112.628 others
ynleclerc a nice weekend in baku 🇦🇿 I’m very proud of my brother and the entire ferrari team 🏎️🧸🚦🥉
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| lorenzotl family time 😍
— ynleclerc ❤️
| charles_leclerc merci, bébé!❤️
— ynleclerc ❤️
| piarlesfanforlife NOT THE CAT PIC 😭 Y/N YOURE TOO FUNNY
| ferratifosi1655 the leclerc siblings >>>>
| scuderia_ferrari Grazie, Y/N! ❤️ Cut The Cat will miss you!
— ynleclerc I will miss him too! 🐈‍⬛😢
| gino_rosato FAMILY ❤️
| sharl1lechair6 the hug between Y/N and charles at the podium was the highlight of the race
| softforbearman8 the teddy bear emoji… and ollie liked the post… 👀
— sainzleclercfan pls don’t 😒 that is such a stretch
— softforbearman8 it’s just an observation!
— centraleclercs wasn’t Y/N dating paul aron? I swear that was a thing 🤔
— formulaofaron it was a rumour a while ago, but nothing was ever confirmed
— sainzleclercfan Charles made a Instagram story weeks ago asking for privacy! Haven’t you learned by now to just leave their family alone? 😤
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taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel @rowansshit @mbappebby @maemaesthoughts @g4ns3y @im_mi @gracesferrari @67-angelofthelordme-67 @harrysdimple05 @ijustwantavacation @livinglifebeingme @Judgemental-Raven
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zebuie · 2 months
Text
FASHION KILLA’
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pairings; photographer!ellie x celebirty!reader.
SYNOPSIS; A photo shoot seems like a simple job, until you fall head-over-heels for the photographer.
Warnings— fingering (r receiving), eating out (r receiving), hair pulling (e receiving), think that’s all.
ways to help palestine
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“okay, you ready?” Wren, your manager, asked while waiting for you outside the car. She held her hand out to help you get up from your seat. You took her hand and stepped out of the vehicle. In front of you, a tall, beige-colored fancy-looking building stood in your way. As you walked your heels, they made a sharp click noise across the sidewalk, sounding like a million little taps from your Valentino black heels.
As you walked your way up to the building, Wren stayed close by your side. At the front door, a security guard stopped you and checked your identification. Once that was cleared, he opened the door for you, and you walked through the lobby with a sense of purpose. Inside, you found yourself surrounded by a flurry of activity as people hurried around you, getting everything set up for the photoshoot.
For all your days in the modeling business, you have seen many photoshoots come and go. But this time, there was something different when you stepped onto the set. The lights dazzled and danced across your skin, highlighting your features in a way that completely captivated you.
You couldn't help but feel a sudden attraction to the talented photographer as she guided you into more and more poses for the photoshoot. Everything seemed to click into place, and you felt completely mesmerized and enraptured by her. you soon learn the photographer's name is Ellie,
the way she looked at you when you were talking to her manager made her heart skip a beat. A staff member snapped their fingers in front of Ellie's face, and she quickly came back to reality after realizing she had gotten a little distracted.
“Hey, els? you listenin’?” the staff member asked, “we're in the middle of a photoshoot, remember? what? you’ve gotta a crush on her or something? come on, take the damn pictures, already! gosh.” the staff member snapped at Ellie, “sorry-no it’s just..forget it.”
your thoughts kept drifting back to ellie, her green eyes and her touch, her everything. you thought about what it would be like to kiss her pink chapped lips, to feel her long veiny fingers inside of you..
The photoshoot continued, but you could not help but let your mind wander. you didn't know if it was just a crush or something more, but she was getting aroused just at the thought of her together.
a few hours later, the photo shoot finnaly wrapped up, you were dead tired, exhausted but relieved. you couldn’t believe you pulled this off and got through this photoshoot, you were sitting in a room all alone on your phone, Ellie came over from behind you, a subtle smile as she walked over.
Ellie broke the silence first and her raspy voice filled the silent empty room. “hey, I’m Ellie.” she said as she held her hand out for you to shake. she introduced herself with a warm smile, which set you at ease.
"You started to introduce yourself, "I-I'm…," but Ellie cut you off with a chuckle. "Oh, I know who you are," she said, her tone playful.
The room fell still as the two of u shared an awkward moment. You finally found your courage and asked, "Can I kiss you?" Ellie started to blush and stuttered, "Oh—," before you just went ahead and began kissing her, leaving her with no time to reject or object.
Ellie's initial surprise quickly turned into a warm, welcoming embrace as her lips parted under your touch. The kiss grew increasingly passionate as she gently wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you as their tongues intertwined in a sweet dance, deepening the intensity of the moment.
Eventually breaking for air, Ellie gazed at you lovingly with red cheeks, whispering "I want more." Her soft fingers traced along your cheek before slowly trailing down your neck to rest on your chest.
As Ellie's fingers traced their way down your body, she paused just above the edge of your panties. Her eyes locked with yours as she hesitated for a moment, her breath warm against your skin. With a soft sigh and an encouraging smile, you nodded gently,
giving her the go-ahead. She slid her fingertips underneath the material of your underwear, tracing slow circles along the sensitive flesh beneath. “Fuck-Ellie…” Your hips unconsciously bucked towards her touch as waves of pleasure flowed through you.
Sensing your growing desire, she delved further into your core – sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through every inch of your being. Her strokes grew slower and more deliberate as she pushed you closer to blissful release - her other hand softly caressing your face in synchronization with her tender ministrations.
The rhythm of Ellie's fingertips intensified as she skillfully worked you towards climax. Her mouth moved down your body, her warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as she paused for a moment between each kiss, “Ellie pl-please..” teasing and tantalizing you further.
You could feel the heat building within you as her touch grew more urgent and insistent - waves of pleasure crashing over you in a euphoric tide. “S’okay baby..relax-I got u…” ellie whispered. Your muscles tensed tightly beneath her touch just before climax claimed you with unbridled force, wracking your entire body with intense bliss while Ellie continued to stroke and kiss every sensitive spot,
Without any hesitation, Ellie moved lower between your legs, her lips brushing against the damp folds of your pussy. u lightly grabbed her hair, you were a complete whimpering mess. Her soft breath washed over your sensitive flesh as she parted you with gentle fingers before delving deeper – her tongue teasing at your clit, She probed inside you with two fingers while her tongue continued its magic on your hard little nub, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through every nerve ending in your body. You grasped onto the couch tightly as a climax built rapidly towards its peak – Ellie suckling gently on your most tender spot,
The intensity of Ellie's actions sent shivers down your spine as she drove you wild with a perfect balance of teasing and pleasure. You could feel the heat radiating from her mouth enveloping your swollen clit as she moved lower, trailing wet kisses down to your dripping entrance.
She pushed two fingers deep inside you, filling you completely while curling them just so - stroking that sweet spot within that made it impossible to hold back any longer. With each thrust of her fingers and lashing of her tongue, wave upon wave of ecstasy engulfed you until finally – in a blinding flash of passion – climax consumed you in its warm embrace. Your muscles tensed around Ellie’s hand as pleasure overtook your entire being, leaving nothing but satiated bliss in its wake.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
Text
Negotiations
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.
It was merely time to look forward.
And look my best.
You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.
Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.
“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”
You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”
“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”
Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.
Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.
You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?
How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?
Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.
You held your head high as if it was.
I can do this.
You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.
You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.
One step closer.
It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.
An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.
"How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?
"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."
"Send her in, please."
It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.
"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.
"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.
This is it.
The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.
He looks like he was born to be in charge.
"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"
"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."
I knew it. Take no crap.
"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."
"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"
"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.
"That's good."
He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"
“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”
He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”
“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”
“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”
“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.
“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”
Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."
"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."
"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."
“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."
“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”
He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”
A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”
“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.
“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”
“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”
You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”
“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”
“Within reason?”
Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”
The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.
“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”
Sounds like a date. Is it though?
“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”
"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.
"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."
“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”
Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.
I probably look ridiculous.
“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.
“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”
“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”
He sounds too good to be true.
“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”
“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”
“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”
Careful. You’re going to spoil me.
“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.
“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”
Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”
“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”
“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”
You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.
Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?
“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”
“Is your passport current?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”
You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”
“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”
You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.
Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?
"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."
You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.
"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”
“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”
That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”
“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”
“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”
“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”
“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"
"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"
He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."
It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."
He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”
“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.
“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”
“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.
His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”
"I do," you said.
"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."
Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"
His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."
"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."
"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."
"But you're paying them," you said.
"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."
You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.
That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.
"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."
"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.
"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"Not that I can think of," you said.
He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."
"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?
"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."
Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"
"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."
Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".
And that you weren't alone.
"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."
"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."
"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."
"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.
But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."
This is going to be the longest week ever.
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I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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