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#WHAT A TILLY LOOK HONESTLY
josephquinnswhore · 12 days
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refined taste - joel miller x female reader
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summary: joel relishes in the taste of you.
word count: 3.2k
content warning: pre-existing relationship, girl dad joel, drinking breastmilk, fingering, humping the bed, male and female ejaculation. mother + father joel. mentions of joel being a hoe pre-outbreak lol. brief mention of age gap, joel cums in his pants.
Times were scarce where you and Joel got to relax.. with no one but the company of each other. That’s what happens when you have a baby—you learn. Hell, most of the time you roamed the house in nothing but one of Joel’s shirts, as you are now. Maria had warned you of what was to come, after her and Tommy’s son was born, he was an absolute nightmare baby. Your and Joel’s daughter, Tilly, was wonderful. She had Joel’s dark hair and his hazel eyes. She looked just like him.
You didn’t mind, not when you could see that she was healing him in a way that you couldn’t. To fill the grief of Sarah. Not to replace her.. but to have a connection that felt the same way. A paternal connection.
Joel is a hands-on father, and he’s honestly incredible. He gently lies Tilly down in her cot.. after she had downed the whole bottle of your warm breast milk. Maria was generous to share over the baby things she no longer needed.
Tilly coos as she falls asleep, her tummy full of milk. For some reason, the bottle was the only way she would take your milk, since she was born she absolutely refused to take your breast. It was hard for you, as you’d heard it was good for her immune system and a way of connecting to the baby. You eventually grew accustomed to bottle feeding, still expressing by hand to relieve your breasts of their ache.
Joel sighs as he lies into bed with you. The sheets wrinkling under the sudden weight.
“Y'know I always wondered what breast milk tastes like.” You wonder aloud. A soft murmur so you don’t wake your daughter.
Joel's eyebrows rise in surprise at your sudden statement, a mix of amusement and mild shock on his face. He chuckles softly, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief.
"Oh really?" he playfully retorts, trying to hide a smirk. "Well, I can tell you it's quite distinct."
He pauses for a moment, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, before continuing with a teasing tone, "Though I can't claim to be an expert taster."
“Then how do you know?” You ask, a confused expression on your face.
Joel's smirk widens slightly, the playful banter continuing between the two of you. He raises an eyebrow, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.
"I happen to have certain experiences with it," he replies with a feigned air of nonchalance, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of devilishness.
You laugh softly. “Oh, so it’s a fetish of yours then?”
Joel chuckles softly, enjoying the lightheartedness in your voice. His expression softens slightly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of humour and affection.
"I wouldn’t necessarily call it a fetish," he clarifies with a hint of a smile on his lips, "but let's just say I’ve had my moments. You know, like any man who's been around the block.”
A gasp leaves your lips, part shock and part confirmation. “So you were a whore before the outbreak?” You’d assumed he would’ve been a ladies man anyway, looking at the old photo of him before the outbreak.. he was a hunk, even then.
Joel's expression turns serious as he addresses your question, his tone softening. He realises the weight of his past actions and the impact they had on him and others.
"It's true, I was," he confirms, his voice filled with a sense of regret. "Back then, I was not the man I am now. I was more wild, more reckless. The world was a different place, and I made some choices I'm not proud of."
A faux gasp of surprise leaves your lips, and you raise a hand to your chest. “I can’t believe I’m marrying the town bike of Texas!”
Joel's jaw drops slightly at your playful remark, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as if trying to process the teasing.
"Hey, you better watch it," he retorts, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I may have been the town bike, but you're the one marrying me. Who's the real crazy one here, hmm?"
“Probably the guy that’s tasted breast milk before his fiancé that’s actually got breastmilk?” You retort.
Joel's eyes widen at your teasing remark, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. He chuckles softly, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the flush of red.
"Okay, okay, you got me there," he admits, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "But in my defence, it was research. Purely for scientific purposes, you know."
The laughter that leaves your lips is followed by a low snort. “You’re ridiculous…. Well maybe I can help you with your.. peculiar study.”
Joel raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your offer. He gazes at you for a moment, gauging your sincerity before responding.
"Oh yeah? You feeling generous, are you?" He teases, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, I suppose I could use a volunteer for my, ahem, 'study.' Just don’t go spreading rumours about me now."
You bite your lip to stop your smile. “I’ll be sure to hold my tongue whenever I feel like making fun of you.”
Joel smiles, his eyes gleaming with affection and a hint of playful mischief. He leans in closer, his voice slightly huskier as he responds.
"That's my girl," he murmurs, his words filled with warmth. "I know you wouldn't." He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, his gaze fixated on your face, as if he can't take his eyes off you.
A small drop of milk leaks through one of Joel’s shirts you wore and your face heats up, but you take the opportunity to tease him. You lift your shirt and swipe a drip of milk falling from your nipple, and pop your finger in your mouth, tasting your breast milk. You raise an eyebrow. “Huh.. not bad..”
Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he watches you taste your own milk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. He can’t help but chuckle softly at your reaction.
"That’s all? Just ‘huh’? I thought I was gonna get some more details," he teasingly responds, his voice carrying a hint of playful disappointment. "Don’t leave me hanging here. How does it taste?"
“You’re more than welcome to test it yourself, mister scientist..”
Joel blinks once, his cheeks flushing with a hint of a blush at your suggestion. He can’t help but chuckle softly, the idea a bit new and unexpected, but not unwelcome.
“Well, I suppose I could be a good scientific partner and contribute to my.. study," he replies with a hint of a smile, his voice a little husky.
He reaches out, gently lifting the material of his own shirt that you wore, exposing your breasts with one hand, and leans in closer, his warm breath grazing your nipple.
A whimper leaves your lips as Joel latches onto your nipple, suckling softly at first to let you adjust to the new feeling, then when the milk starts to flow; he starts suckling desperately, using his hands to help express the milk.
Well; it certainly did seem like he’d done this before.
The tips of your fingers caress his scalp, as his ministrations grow more desperate, you gently tug on the greying locks, he draws a breathless whine from you.
Your touch sends a shiver down Joel's spine, intensifying the connection between you. His mind and body are consumed by the sensations swirling around him. He moves his hands to your hips, gently pulling you closer as he continues to suckle on your breast, the taste of milk fueling his passion. The sound of your whimper only serves to heighten his arousal, his desire for you growing with each passing moment.
“You’re a selfish man Joel.. gonna drain me dry.”
Joel's body tightens at your words, a mix of desire and restraint filling his mind. He pulls away from your breast, his lips leaving a trail of warm kisses along your sternum before he finally speaks.
"You taste divine, you know that?" He whispers, his voice husky and filled with passion. "I might get addicted to this."
“Don’t get greedy now sweetheart.” You tsk him in a mock condescending tone.
Joel chuckles softly, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your hips as he whispers, "I don’t intend to. But you’re tempting me, you know that?”
His eyes gleam with desire, the passion evident in his gaze. "You’re so captivating. I can’t help but want more of you. I hope you’re prepared for it."
Giggling, your fingers play with his hair. “So.. what’s the verdict—Mr scientist? How does it taste?”
Joel smiles, his eyes filled with warmth and affection as he responds, "Ah, the scientific results."
He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Well, it tastes wonderful. Sweet, with a hint of earthy goodness. And the texture, smooth and creamy. Not to mention the effect it has on me."
He leans in, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "But I think I’ll need more time to conduct further research."
You hum. “Tastes like sugar water to me. Seems like you’re.. undecided.”
Joel laughs softly, shaking his head in playful disagreement. He nuzzles his face against your neck, his voice filled with teasing desire.
"Oh, come on, you can do better than that. It's not sugar water. It's unique and delicious. I'm not undecided. I'm just thorough, sweetheart. I need more... samples. For science, of course."
“Oh right—if it’s for science.. by all means, go ahead.”
An eager smile spreads across Joel's face, his body pressing closer against you. His eyes gleam with desire, a mix of playful mischief and affection. He leans in, his voice filled with a husky rasp as he whispers against your neck.
"Perfect. I promise to be... thorough."
It feels more sensitive than it did the first time.
Joel's smile widens against your skin as he hears your whine, his body reacting instinctively to the sound. His mouth presses gently against your breast, his tongue coaxing out more milk as he suckles hungrily. His hand begins to massage gently, his grip firm but tender, his touches designed to elicit more of those delightful sounds from you.
Joel becomes more intense with his mouth and tongue, lapping at you, his teeth gently graze at the sensitive skin of your nipple and you moan softly.
A sudden movement catches your attention, the bed shakes a little, and you’re curious—so you look. His hips are desperately rutting against the bed, he groans against your flesh.
As Joel's mouth continues it’s ministrations, exploring your body with increasing intensity, his hips involuntarily rocking in rhythm with your moans and whimpers.
The sensations swirling between you only seem to intensify, the connection between you growing more intimate and powerful. Your voice, the sound of your pleasure, fuels his desire, his touches and kisses growing more urgent and desperate.
“Joel..” you whine, an octave higher than normal. Almost begging for something.. more.
Joel's ears perk up at the sound of his name, his mind consumed by the intimacy of the moment. He can tell that you need more, that you're on the verge of something intense. His mouth moves hungrily across your skin, his teeth grazing softly as one of his hands slide down your body.
His fingers slide down between your cunt—it’s soaking his fingers, the pad of his thumb begins to swirl softly against your clit, teasing you at first. He drags his other fingers down into your hole, pumping in and out. Your head hits the pillow, hips bucking upward as you whine in approval.
As he hears the sharp inhale that escapes your lips, he knows he's found the spot that makes you quiver. His touches grow more deliberate, each stroke sending a shiver of pleasure through you, his touch knowing precisely how to ignite the fire he's been fueling.
You tremble at the sensation of the two most sensitive parts of you both being worked simultaneously. His mouth is lapping desperately at your breast, your sensitive nipple is perked and dribbling milk. Joel doesn’t let a single droplet go to waste. The feeling of his thick fingers pumping into the spongey flesh of your cunt makes you clench around him, his thumb remains in it’s steady pace of working your clit.
Joel's eyes are fixated on your face, watching every tiny expression and reaction to his touch. Witnessing the way you tremble beneath him only serves to heighten his own desire. The intensity of the simultaneous stimulation is nearly overwhelming for you, and he takes full advantage of the moment. His mouth lingers on your breast, his tongue exploring and teasing as his fingers continue their seductive dance on your precious cunt that’s soaking his fingers, determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.
You curl your fingers in his greying hair, pulling taut as you fall apart, feeling it all at once, the sensations overwhelm you in a delicious symphony of overstimulation. Then, as coil that had been winding tighter with every pump of his fingers, every lap of his tongue.. it snapped. The quickest orgasm of your life.
By far, the most intense, too. Your toes curl into the bedsheets and your legs try to close at the feeling of sensitivity. Your cunt clenches around his fingers at it coats the thick digits with your cum. A ringing sound warbles through your ears, breath struggling to regulate as you huff quickly, desperate to get oxygen to your lungs after Joel ripped it from you.
Joel's body tightens in response to the way you pull at his hair, a mix of excitement and pleasure surging through him. As your body quivers in release, he continues his ministrations, each slowed stroke designed to prolong your bliss. He can feel the intensity of your pleasure, the way your body convulse and clench, and it fills him with a sense of satisfaction. He watches as you surrender to the moment, his touch gentle yet deliberate, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy until you come back down.
Joel falls apart at the sight of your parted lips and pinched brows—relishing in the intimate and ecstasy of his actions.
The bed vibrates as Joel desperately ruts against the mattress, hearing you fall apart, feeling your cum coat his fingers..
Joel's own release follows shortly after yours, the intensity of the moment overwhelming his senses. He continues to move against the mattress, the friction of his body against it adds to the intoxicating mix of sensations. He finds release in the rhythm of your breaths, the tremble of your skin, and the sound of his name on your lips. As he climaxes, his grip on your body tightens, his gasps and moans mingling with yours in the heat of the moment.
He couldn’t help the way his weeping cock finally exploded inside of his jeans.
You’re wide eyed as you realise Joel had just cum in his jeans, he pants heavily, groaning against your skin as he pulls away from your breast, resting his sweaty forehead against your warm chest.
Joel takes a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he tries to calm his racing heart. He can feel the heat in his cheeks and he glances up at you, realising the mess he had made.
“Did you just..” you trail off.
He lets out a sheepish chuckle, his voice filled with a hint of embarrassment.
"Oh...well, that was unexpected. Guess I got a little carried away."
“A little? You think?” Your eyebrow is raised. But you’re not upset, not even a little. It was.. flattering, honestly.
Joel laughs again, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and fondness. He looks up at you, a softness in his gaze as he responds.
“Alright, maybe more than a little. Can you blame me though? The sight of you in the throes of passion...it's a sight I can't resist. I couldn't help myself.”
You smile softly, admiring the redness in his cheeks.
“I love you. Even if you were the town bike back in the day.”
Joel's expression softens at your words, a deep affection shining in his eyes. He reaches up, gently cupping your cheek in his calloused hand.
"And I love you, more than anything.” He responds, his voice filled with sincerity. He pauses for a moment, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. "And as for being the town bike...well, let's just say that's a reputation I'm grateful to have left behind. You're the only one I have eyes for now."
His words were truthful, and it entices a smile, knowing he was serious even in your playful banter.
“Good. Cause I’m not sharing my soon to be husband.” You murmur into his hair.
Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, a surge of warmth spreading through his body. He returns your smile, his eyes gleaming with love and contentment.
“You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” he reassures you, his voice laced with affection. “I'm all yours. Body, heart, and soul. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with than you."
Your other breast, that was left unattended to, starts to leak from being so engorged. As if weeping that it didn’t get any attention.
Joel notices the leaking breast, a flicker of desire in his eyes. He watches as it leaks and dribbles down your torso, leaving a sticky trail.
"Hmm...it seems like this sweet girl is in need of some attention too," he comments, his voice low and husky. He gently cups your breast, massaging it gently. "Can't have you leaking all over the place, right?"
A whimper leaves your dry lips. “Such a greedy man.”
Joel chuckles softly, his eyes meeting yours with a heated gaze.
"Can you blame me, sweetheart? You're simply irresistible," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing teasing circles on your breast. "Every part of you is so alluring. I couldn't resist if I tried."
You roll your eyes in a playful manner. “Just save some for the baby.”
Joel's smile widens, his eyes softening as he leans in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. "Of course. Just because I can't get enough of you doesn't mean I'll deprive our little one.”
"We'll just have to find ways to share you, hm?" he whispers, nuzzling his face against your neck. "But rest assured, I'll never let either of you go hungry."
You hum as his facial hair scratches against your soft skin.
Joel's stubble brushes against your skin, it’s roughness adds a delightful contrast to the softness of your neck. He nuzzles further into you, relishing the intimacy of the moment.
"You're just so damn irresistible," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "The way you react to my touch...it drives me crazy.”
Joel's body presses closer to yours, his need evident as his arousal grows stronger. He groans, the sound a mixture of pleasure and frustration.
"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He mutters, his voice husky and breathless. "The way you affect me...it's hard to hold back sometimes."
You grin cheekily. “Keep up baby. You have a good few decades left. I’ll have to keep you on your toes, eh?”
Joel laughs softly, the sound a mix of amusement and affection. "You cheeky little minx," he teases, his eyes gleaming with adoration. "I should be the one keeping you on your toes, given I'm the older and wiser one. But I reckon keeping up with you will keep me young in spirit."
You laugh. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
Joel chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Years of experience, sweetheart. You learn a few things along the way." His fingers lightly trace across your cheek, a tender gesture that complements his teasing words.
"Besides, when it comes to you, I always have something clever to say. How else am I supposed to keep up with your wit and sass?"
“I just hope little Tilly doesn’t grow up to have your sense of humour, cause then we’ll be in trouble.”
Joel grins against the soft skin of your breast. “Ain’t that the truth.”
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russellsppttemplates · 5 months
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This drawing is for you (Lando Norris)
Matilda already has her love language, handing out her drawings to people
Note: english is not my first language. Look who showed up, hm? Honestly, the last two weeks have been a bit all over the place and I've been meaning to post way more than what I actually have
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Mummy?", you heard your daughter call for you, walking to her playroom since you assumed that's where she was, "yes, baby?", you made your presence known.
"Can we stop by the stationery shop when we go and pick daddy up from work, please? My colouring pencils are getting too small", she showed you a few examples, the colours you recognised from having a big presence in her drawings belonging to pencils that you were barely able to hold in your hands yourself.
"Of course, Tilly", you smiled, "speaking of which, we have to leave soon. Are you almost finished with your drawing?", you wondered, "yes, mummy, I just need to finish colouring in the sun", she mused, grabbing the tiny yellow pencil and carrying on with her work.
When she finished, she set the pencil down, stopping in the bathroom to wash her hands and heading to the door to meet you, "hold your sleeves", you nudged as she held on the hems while you put on her jacket, not wanting her to let the clothes climb up her arms and be uncomfortable.
"Let's go, mummy!", she cheered, walking downs the stairs into the garage so you could get in the car and drive to the factory.
As you were driving, your husband called, "hello, love! We're already in the car on our way to get you, we're going to stop by the shop to buy some colouring pencils for Tilly so we don't have to wait too long for you", you said, turning on the blinker once you faced the junction.
"Hi daddy!", Matilda spoke loudly, hoping her could hear her like she heard him, "How are my favourite girls today? Actually, I was calling because the meeting ended early and I'm ready whenever you want to pick me up", Lando voiced as you saw your daughter smile from her spot in the back of the car, "you can come with us to the shop, then!", she said excitedly.
"That's a great idea, love! Me and Matilda will go and pick you up first, then! We're ten, maybe fifteen minutes out, depends on how traffic is, it looks okay, though", you muttered, finding it easy so far to drive to the factory.
"Okay, I'll be waiting for you! I love you, girls! Drive safe!", he said before ending the call, Matilda clapping her hands excitedly at the prospect of seeing her father earlier than expected.
By the time you arrived at the factory, Matilda had listed all of the materials she would like to get so her drawings would be pretty. Parking the car, you got out, putting on your coat as you walked to open Matilda's door, "let's go, Matilda!", you smiled, unbuckling her belt and making sure she was cozy and warm to face the cold end of the day temperatures.
Everyone in the factory knew you and your little one, so they would have at you, knowing they would have a difficult time at getting many words out of your little girl, usually a sweet smile, a wave and a small and quiet "hi" before she held onto your legs and hid her face there.
Lando was laughing loudly, so it was easy to know that as soon as you crossed that corner, you'd find your husband along with one of his mechanics and engineers.
Matilda smiled as she saw her daddy, releasing the grip she had on your hand, but keeping them laced until Lando and her locked eyes, "hello, my loves!", Lando said, crouching down so his daughter could finally unlace her hand from yours and run up to him, hugging him and allowing him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek, "Hi, daddy", she whispered in his ear.
Even though there were only two other people beside her parents, she was still shy as they greeted her, "Hello!", they said as she waved, smiling before hiding her face on her father's neck.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Goodbye Y/N, bye-bye Matilda!", they said as they went the opposite direction, you and Lando bidding goodbye whenever you encountered someone until you were in the parking lot, ready to get in the car.
"Do you want to drive?", you asked your husband despite already knowing the answer. He hated not being in control of the situation if he could, so driving his family around was non negotiable most times, only sitting as a passenger when he was very tired.
Buckling Matilda back in her seat and kissing her forehead, you got into the car yourself as your husband drove to the usual shop where you got your daughter's art supplies and your own whenever your work required materials.
"Do you already know what you want to get, babygirl?", Lando asked as the three of you walked inside the shop. It was unusually quiet for this time of the day, and a small part of Matilda was happy because she could go up to the shelves and drawers she already knew had what she needed without having to ask her parents for help in moving along the shop.
After grabbing the supplies she needed, she took them to the young woman at the front so her parents could pay for it, "have a nice day, Matilda! I'm sure your works of art will be beautiful!", she said. You and your family were regular costumers, so they had already grown to know your name and hers, so they had managed to get in the small group of people that were not family and friends and Matilda didn't feel to shy with.
"Bye-bye, have a nice day, too!", she waved sweetly before running up to her daddy, "very good, Matilda, I'm very proud of you for that!", he said, kissing her cheek and walking along with you to the car.
.
The McLaren unit was working on full speed as you arrived, coffees and other drinks being served as guests arrived or workers carried on with their day, you opting to go to the track, along with Matilda, after the initial morning rush so you wouldn't have to deal with too many people at once.
"Do you want to to go to daddy's room or stay here?", you questioned her, "here in the lounge", she replied as you walked to one of the tables near the windows so you could be near the sunlight that had graced the weekend and be a little further away from the buzz.
"Do you want to draw with me, mummy?", she offered once she was comfortably sitting on the chair, taking her pencil case from her backpack along with the blank sheets of paper.
"Sure, love! Let me just text daddy so he knows where we are when he finishes his meeting", you smiled, grabbing your phone to text Lando before setting it down and grabbing the things you needed.
"Are you drawing daddy's car?", Matilda asked sweetly as she took a peek at your work, "I am! Do you think it's pretty?", she nodded, "but not as pretty as yours, I love your butterfly", you complimented.
As she was finishing colouring in the wings, one of the girls from the PR team came to greet you, "Y/N, Matilda! It's been a while since I saw you around!", she cheered, kissing each of your cheeks as you did the same to her before she noticed your daughter looking at her, "hello", she said in her usual quiet tone.
As you spoke with the young woman, your daughter carefully folded the paper and ripped it by the crease she had made so she could separate the small drawing from the rest of the plain paper.
"Alright, girls! I'll see you later!", she said as someone called her name, presumably with a task for her to do.
"You can have this one if you'd like", Matilda spoke, showing her the drawing, "really, babygirl? Thank you so much, I'm so flattered!", she said, accepting it and keeping it safe in her notebook, "I'll keep it here until I can get home and put it in my wall, okay?", she nodded as your little girl blushed at the attention, nodding too.
.
Because the practice session was being used as the scheduled opportunity for the reserve driver to do a few laps on the track, Oscar joined you and Matilda as you looked over the cars on track.
"I need to go to the bathroom. Do you also need to go, Tilly?", you asked your daughter, earning a head shake no, "I'm good, mummy", she said, going back to colouring in.
Excusing yourself after Oscar assured he'd keep her company, Matilda was quick to silently offer her crayons to the Australian man along with her colouring book.
"Where are Lily and Lucas?", she asked for her usual companions for the weekend. They would often be together so you and Lily could catch up while the kids entertained themselves in eachother's company.
"They stayed back home this weekend", Oscar explained, "but they told me they wish they were here. I think they're coming to Silverstone, so we will all be together then", he smiled as she gave him a small smile, too, noddinh in agreement and taking out her new glitter pens.
They start colouring and not saying much, only asking eachother to please hand them a crayon or pen the other couldn't reach or if the drawing looked good. Matilda felt understood by him, so it was no surprise that, besides her family, he was the person she felt the most comfortable with spending time in the paddock.
.
"Where's daddy taking you, little miss?", you asked as you saw Lando change the t-shirt your daughter was wearing. Under her dungarees, she now had an orange McLaren t-shirt, matching her father as he held her on his hip, "we're going to hand in drawings I made, and I didn't want to do it alone, and since you said you were feeling tired, daddy said he would take me", she smiled, kissing your cheek when you got up to kiss your husband's lips and her forehead.
"You sit tight, alright baby?", Lando urged, "me and Tilly want you to be well rested when the time comes to watch the race", he kissed your forehead. You hadn't slept that well the night before, so when Matilda had built her collection of gifts, she didn't want to tire you out more.
Leaving the hospitality, Lando walked with Matilda, asking her where she wanted to go first, "Can we find uncle Seb first? Mummy and I saw him when we arrived, but there were a lot of people near him so we said we'd see him later", she reasoned as Lando quickly searched for the retired German driver, "there he is, love", he pointed, walking in his direction.
Despite her initial confidence, Matilda felt shy as everyone's eyes landed on her and her father, cooing at the sight of them matching and the fact that little Norris had showed up, too.
"Hello, Matilda! How are you?", Sebastian asked, smiling at the duo as she retreated, hiding her face on his neck. Her backpack was open as Lando pulled the art pieces out.
"Didn't you want to give something to Sebastian, gorgeous girl?", Lando encouraged, kissing her cheek sweetly and giving her time.
"The bee one, daddy", Matilda whispered against his neck where she kept hhalf of her face hidden as Lando flickered the drawings, finding the one she meant.
"Is this for me? Thank you, Matilda, this is very nice!", Sebastian said warmly, making he little girl smile at him.
"Who's next?", Lando asked, "Charles, I made a drawing for him with a sea, because he lives in Monaco", she reasoned.
.
"And on the screens now we can see the McLaren garage this afternoon, where Lando Norris has his little one and his wife here this weekend!", Natalie said looking at the screen along with Naomi.
"That's true! Little Matilda has been in the paddock with her parents this whole weekend, and yesterday I had the privilege of seeing the cutest scene! She was hiding behind Lando's legs, but she kept holding some of the drawings until she found the people she wanted to give them to!", Naomi added, "she had one for Sebastian, for Charles, and she also shared some with the McLaren crew, too!
"And when I was interviewing Oscar this morning, Matilda walked closer to us and asked for his help to get the drawing she made of me - I have it right here, let me show you! - and this is the cutest thing ever! I have an orange suit - because of papaya, she said -, and my braids look so good with this glittery accent, see?", she showed Natalie as she nodded, "she's usually a very quiet little one, but she's an artist for sure. She takes after her mummy, so I've heard", she smiled into the camera.
"Yet, this morning, when me and the crew were deciding where to go first, we caught a father-daughter that made our hearts melt, take a look in the screens!", Natalie finished.
"Is it silly, Matilda?", Lando tried, seeing his daughter give him a full belly laugh as he drew a crocodile with rain boots, "crocodiles don't need rain boots, daddy! They can swim and walk all the same!", she giggled, delighting the people who were watching and hearing her laugh. "Well, maybe I should give him some floaties, too! Should I make him pink ones like yours?", he tried, earning another set of giggles out of his little girl.
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marnerparty · 4 months
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young stud
Connor Bedard x reader
_connorbedard
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_connorbedard📍Nashville
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adamfantilli my dude!
yourusername no it’s ok… I wasn’t there either… I don’t wanna be featured…
_connorbedard being around me 24/7 wasn’t enough? 😐
yourusername no.
_masonmctavish23 Jesus just tell him you love him yn
yourusername we are JUST best friends
trevorzegras yeah, and i’m cleaner than jamie
_masonmctavish23 where tf did you come from!?
jamie.drysdale don’t bring me into this
yourusername hey all you ducks get outta here. tilli is comin to Anaheim not C-Dog
adamfantilli we have no idea where either of us are going to end up yn
_connorbedard SEE
user1 sorry the Blackhawks are gonna draft you
colton.dach 👀
yourusername even he knows you’re going #1
_connorbedard yn we still just don’t know
espn congrats on the success & good luck tomorrow finding out who your next team will be!
madi_bedard 🤘🏻
user2 boutta be the biggest bust the NHL has ever seen
yourusername and you’ve done what in your life exactly?
trevorzegras yn responding to haters >>>>>
_connorbedard please do not encourage this
yourusername hi, I’m yn. I think we’ll be great friends
trevorzegras nice to meet you, I’m trevor & likewise. let’s hang out sometime
biznasty 🤠🤠🤠
barzal97 kiddd
yourusername 😍😍😍
_connorbedard don’t say what you want to rn.
_connorbedard please.
_connorbedard I beg you.
trevorzegras yn, you are your own person. if you want to embarrass yourself and tell mat you think he’s hot do it.
barzal97 now I feel like I shouldn’t be here
user3 connor sucks
_masonmctavish23 🦅🦅🦅
_connorbedard those are Eagles
_masonmctavish23 connor wtf. that’s a smart-ass comment that should come from yn not you
_connorbedard he limited the amount of times i can comment on his Instagram posts. this is actually yn. I took connor’s phone
trevorzegras oh my god we will be amazing friends
yourusername
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yourusername I couldn’t be more proud 🫶🏻
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_connorbedard thank you for your never ending support yn ❤️
nhlblackhawks who’s the new guy?
yourusername some bum. probably shouldn’t make the team tbh
_connorbedard what happened to “couldn’t be more proud”
yourusername 🤫
adamfantilli it’s been a ride 🤘🏻
_connorbedard love you long time brother 🫡
cubs welcome to the Windy City Connor!
kentjohnson.13 YOU DID IT C!
_connorbedard miss you 🫶🏻
trevorzegras yn panicking rn trying to make this comment section abt her
yourusername fuck you trevor
barzal97 she’s aggressive isn’t she?
yourusername 🫢😮
trevorzegras look what you did Mat 🙄
barzal97 ??????
yourusername he’s referring to the fact you put the attention on me
barzal97 didn’t he start it by pointing it out in the first place?
trevorzegras watch it.
yourusername besties, please. this is no place to fight
user1 yn 🤝🏻 hockey boys
Liked by yourusername
lululemon #1 brand —> #1 pick! congrats Connor!
yourusername @lululemon free clothes?👀
_connorbedard wtf?? it’s MY brand deal bud
lhughes_06 your relationship is confusing
user2 honestly fuck connor bedard
yourusername Connor has asked me very nicely to not respond to haters & be rude so I cannot say anything to you that I want to, but just know, I really want to.
trevorzegras I am so proud of your growth
yourusername i love Connor, what can I say
yourusername
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yourusername bestie is the big 1️⃣8️⃣ 🫶🏻
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user1 about goddamn time
jackhughes wtf how is this kid just now an adult
trevorzegras now you guys can do it !
yourusername TREVOR
yourusername NOT FUNNY
adamfantilli I still can’t believe Yn’s a cougar
yourusername I’m a year older 😪 chill.
_masonmctavish23 SO YOU ADMIT YOU’RE A COUGAR
trevorzegras WE GOT HER
colton.dach YN LIKES CONNOR
user2 AHHHHH
lululemon Happy Birthday Connor! 🎉
user3 I love you plz marry me
quentinmusty happy birthday CB !!
_connorbedard 😚😚😚 miss u
trevorzegras super sus 👀
adamfantilli someone check on yn
_connorbedard thank you ynn <3
Liked by yourusername
lhughes_06 love birds
yourusername I’ll kill you Lucas
lhughes_06 come at me yn
trevorzegras Luke what have you done
trevorzegras yn will protect connie wonnie boo-boo bear at all costs
yourusername you’re dead too Zegras
user3 all these adults obsessing over some teens
_masonmctavish we are NOT obsessed
user3 def are
_masonmctavish NO
user3 yes.
jamie.drysdale mason wtf are you doing
barzal97 happy birthday kid!
_connorbedard thank you 🙌🏻
yourusername added to their story!
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yourusername
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yourusername besties trip!!
tagged trevorzegras
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trevorzegras 😚😚😚
jamie.drysdale IS THIS A THING
trevorzegras ????
yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
user1 Matching tattoos & a trip? Too sus
colton.dach I THOUGHT YOU LIKED CONNOR
adamfantilli WHAT HAPPENED
user2 whore
trevorzegras watch your mouth
barzal97 I’m officially out 😔
yourusername NO
yourusername COME BACK
yourusername You’re always #1 😘😘😘
_connorbedard No invite is crazy
yourusername make up for it when I get back?
_connorbedard I guess 🙄
user3 tension?!!!
user4 this girl sucks
_connorbedard Get outta here
madi_bedard GORGE
yourusername ughhh I’m in love with you
user5 *with your brother
_masonmctavish ^^^^
_connorbedard
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_connorbedard can’t take her anywhere
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yourusername go Blackhawks!
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jackhughes WHAT
trevorzegras why are we acting surprised
luke_hughes06 HE’S A CHILD
yourusername you’re a child
ryanwhitney6 MY EYES
colton.dach you dirty liar
adamfantilli “there’s nothing between us”
nhlblackhawks “we’re just best friends”
trevorzegras Even the team is invested in this 😐
biznasty Connor you dirty dog
yourusername 40 yr old in the comment section 🥱
biznasty Connor she’s mean
yourusername who knew biz was whiny
barzal97 what about us 😔
yourusername Mat he can be gone in 5 seconds
trevorzegras Connor wonnor has a girllll friendddd
_connorbedard Yeah that’s one more than you 🤠
yourusername 🫣
jamie.drysdale Yikes getting roasted by a 12 yr old
trevorzegras JAMIE!? BE ON MY SIDE
jamie.drysdale that was kinda a dig at both of you
trevorzegras I don’t care care it should only be a dig at HIM
yourusername trouble in paradise 😬
_connorbedard
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_connorbedard a full trip around the ☀️
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biznasty Are you 30 yet?
_connorbedard just turned 19 bud
yourusername lover 😚
_connorbedard ❤️❤️
user1 🤮
user2 mans pulled a baddie like yn … let me know your ways
madi_bedard sista sista
madi_bedard I’m stealing her
yourusername im yours <3
trevorzegras and Connor’s and Mat’s ?
yourusername yes.
colton.dach yn > Connor 🤷🏼‍♀️
olivermoore11 agreed.
titobeauvi91 she has a more pleasant presence
_connorbedard wow TEAMMATES thank you!
jamie.drysdale YOU’VE BEEN DATING A YEAR!?
luca.fantilli That’s gotta be illegal
trevorzegras Not so team Connor and yn now huh Jimmy
yourusername oh please you wouldn’t have known we were dating if I didn’t tell you
barzal97 🤘🏻
user3 you need someone better than yn
trevorzegras lol good luck finding anyone better
barzal97 she’s a national treasure
jamie.drysdale haters will be haters
_connorbedard too bad I love her 🤷🏼‍♀️
yourusername boys stop it I’m blushing ☺️
adamfantilli he said the L word 🤢
A/N I’m … back ??
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munsonsprincess11111 · 6 months
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But he's my goof
Eddie munson x reader
Summary: Eddie has beeb dating you for 5 months.in his friend's eyes Eddie has no game.so one day Eddie walks over to the hellfire table and Gareth is sat batching about not having a girlfriend so he askes Eddie how he pulled u. Honestly Eddie doesn't know so he asks u.
You and Eddie have been dating happily for 5 months. He loves you. You love him. You go in dates. You go to his gigs at the hideout even stay after closing and help him out. You go to hellfire. But there's one thing the club can't get there head around. How Eddie actually managed to pull you.
Your grungy. Your pretty. Your smart. You like metal music. How did Eddie pull someone so perfect. The man walked into a mirror in drama class once. So how.
"I'm gonna die alone. Women hate me." Gareth complains for the sixth time this week about not having a girlfriend. It's only Wednesday. Eddie walks over placing his lunch box on the table. "What's he bitching about now?" HE askes.
"He's saying he's gonna die alone cause no girls wanna date him." Jeff answers. Eddie nods and looks at Gareth. "What about tilly she would date you." Eddie askes throwing a pretzel in the air trying to catch it in his mouth but missing.
"How did you pull y/n?" Gareth says not even noticing he'd said his thought. Eddie shoots Gareth a glare and the rest of hellfire look at Gareth. Everyone can see Gareth realise what he said. The instant regret in his face.
"NO fucking clue." Eddie says going back to throwing pretzels tryna catch them in his mouth. Failing again. Everyone at the table look at Eddie as he replied calmly. He looked up at there shocked faces.
"What I don't. I'm a complete dope. I'm known as the town freak. I'm als kid. No one in school likes me. I dress like I'm homeless. I smoke. I occasionally drink. I'm failing. N I'm really fucking stupid." Eddie says getting cut off.
"Who's really fucking stupid?" You ask walking up behind Eddie as he throws a pretzel not noticing you. You grab it in your hand and eat it yourself smirking at your boyfriend who has furrowed brows.
"First. I'm really fucking stupid. Second. MY PRETZEL!" Eddie says looking up at you. You kiss his quickly and then sit next to him.
"And why are we talking about Eddie stupidity?" You ask taking another one of Eddie's pretzels.
"Well she's y/n she can answer. Y/n? How the fuck did I pull you?" Eddie askes looking her seriously in the eyes.
Everyone's eyes are on you. "Expand..." You say looking at Eddie and only Eddie.
"Like Gareth can't get a girlfriend. However. The town freak who's failing school who everyone hates and is failing school manages to get the most perfect girlfriend in the world." Eddie says handing u a mini pretzel.
"Yeah what the fuck you see in munson?" Gareth askes. Everyone's eyes back on Gareth. Eddie throws a pretzel and it hits him in the head. You giggle at Eddie.
"First. Your the most perfect boyfriend eds. Second. I dunno he's hot. Funny. N is nice to me." You say looking at Eddie. Eddie smiles at your response. Then Gareth speaks again.
"But he's a complete dopey goof." Everyone looking at him again as he can not shut up. Your still looking at Eddie who's death glaring Gareth.
"But he's my goof." You say quietly Eddie then looking back at you his face immediately changing to smiling. He takes your hand in his leans over and places a sloppy kiss on your lips making his friend's make gagging noises. "I love you" he whispers kissing your neck. "I love you too" you whisper back.
Eddie then sits back in his seat pulling your chair closer to him so he can put his arm around your shoulders. 10 minutes later a girl approaches the hellfire table. "HEY your Gareth right?" She askes Gareth. He nods looking at the table with a look of panic on his face.
"Umm I'm in your science class. Names Emily." She says smiling. "Yeah I know hi Emily." HE answers looking flustered.
"I was wondering if you'd wanna maybe go on a date this Saturday?" She askes smiling at Gareth. Gareth looks to his friends everyone eyes on him. Him still looking flustered. "Well answer the lovely lady Gareth. So sorry. He's a pussy when it comes to girls." Eddie says teasing the boy.
You lift your head from his shoulder and hit his chest. He puts his hands up in defeat before putting his arm back around your shoulder pulling you back into his side.
"Umm yeah sure. I can pick you up around 6 we could go get food?" Gareth askes playing eith his fingers.
"Sounds great I'll give u my address tomorrow. See you then." Emily says waving smiling and walking off. The table goes silent as everyone stares at Gareth. "Eddie?" Gareth askes. "Mm?" Eddie answers looking confused.
"Who asked who out with you and y/n." HE askes Eddie.
"We hung out a lot and one day she was talking snd I just kissed her. And KABOOM. Relationship ship." Eddie says smirking his arm still around you.
"Your absolutely unbelievable." You say with your head on his shoulder.
"Funny you told me that last night when I made you-" Eddie speaks tryna be smug but you slap your hand over his mouth.
"I'm leaving. See you all tomorrow." You say getting up taking your hand of Eddie's mouth. "Wait wait wait." Eddie says getting up to running off. Then running back to get his stuff.
The tables watching you walk off as Eddie grabbed his stuff. "Whyd she wipe her hands on her jeans?" Dustin and Gareth ask in sync. Eddie looks up going to run. "Cause I licked her hand." HE says before running after you. Earning grunts and groans of disgust from the table. "Y/n baby! It was a joke common trouble.!" HE shouts after you.
"I STILL DONT SEE HOW THAT PULLED HER." Gareth half yells painting at Eddie. Eddie heard and gave him the middle finger as he ran out the door. The doors were glass and you were stood outside of them. They could see you both.
Eddie dropped his stuff bringing his hands to your waist kissing you. Pushing you against the wall. Your hands went around his neck keeping him close and then in his hair.
Nancy being stood next to Mike hearing what Gareth had to say was able to answer for you. "Because he loves her and is not afraid to show it. And she loves him and all his weird tweeks."
They all look back at you to see Eddie picking his lunch box up and handing it to you. You look at him confused. Then he throws you Iver his shoulder. Your laughing. And attempting to keep some hold on him as Eddie walks off with you over his shoulder.
"He's her goof. And they love eachother. A hole fucking lot."
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Text
DILF - Ted Nivision x Reader
I think i'll make this a multi fic... no NSFW in this part but because of what a DILF is and the fact that it will be NSFW in future parts, I'm gonna go ahead and say MDNI
The vibration of your phone against your desk tore your tired eyes and depleting attention from Professor Stinwell's dull voice and the monotony that is color theory.
"Hello?" Your voice cracked from disuse.
"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice responded.
"It is," you cleared your throat "May I ask who's calling?"
"Hi, This is Ted Nivision, my wife and I are friends of Heather's, and she recommended your babysitting service. I'm sorry, she gave us your number and said it'd be fine to reach out whenever."
"Yes! Of course. I'd be happy to help."
"That's a relief. Normally, we'd want to meet before hand for you to meet our girls, but we actually would need you for tonight, my mother in law had something come up last minute and isn't able to come. Would that be okay?"
"That's totally fine. How old are your girls?" You asked, trying to figure out what kind of activities to prepare.
"We have three year old twins, Penelope, we call her Penny, and Tilly."
"Those are beautiful names. What time do you need me tonight?"
"Would you be able to be here at 7:00? It would be a few hours, we have a late dinner with my wife's colleague, so we probably wouldn't be home until around 10:30."
"That totally works." You already knew you'd be exhausted for your early class tomorrow but wanted to make a good first impression.
"Great. Let me give you our address and we'll see you when you get here."
**********
Pulling up to the Nivision's house at 6:45 you admired how beautiful the house was. It wasn't massive, but it had the charm of a southern cottage that you loved, a comfortable looking swing sitting on the framed porch, toys littering the floor and ivy climbing the lattice on the side.
Knocking on the door you looked at the yard, noticing the obvious time that was put into the landscaping, lawn mowed to perfection, flower beds full of colors, and a large tree with a swing.
You turned back to the door when you heard it being unlocked.
"Y/N?" A man, you assumed Ted, answered. Looking up you were taken aback at how handsome he was, and his sweet brown eyes and infectious smile only added to his charm.
"That's me. You must be Ted, we spoke on the phone." You smiled back, offering your hand.
"It's nice to meet you." He said, taking your hand and shaking it before opening the door wider. "Please, come in."
"Carrie, the sitter is here!" He called up the stairs, walking into a family room to the right.
Following him in, you see two identical little girls sitting on the floor, surrounded by plastic plates and cups.
Ted sat between the girls, before taking a teacup from one of the girls, his large hands dwarfing it, and making you smile from the ridiculousness.
"We're having a tea party," he said, looking up at you. "Aren't we, girls? Can you say hi to Y/N?"
"Hi! I'm Y/N!" you said, crouching down and introducing yourself.
"Hi!" one of the little girls said, waving at you excitedly.
"That's Tilly. And this one-" Ted said, reaching out and tickling the other one, who'd handed him his tea, making her giggle. "is Penny."
"Hi, Penny." You whispered, giving a small wave, matching her shy demeanor.
"If you ladies would excuse me, I'm going to talk to Y/N for a bit." He says, standing and offering you a hand to help you up.
"Can I get you a water or anything?" Ted offers, walking into the kitchen, motioning for you to sit at the bar.
"That'd be great, thank you." He takes a water bottle from the fridge and slides it across the counter to you.
"So tell me about yourself, Y/N."
"Not much to tell, honestly. I'm taking classes online for Graphic Design, I have another year before I have my degree. Outside of that, I work at the library and babysit on the side."
"Graphic Design, huh? I should probably take a few classes, I could sure use it a bit for work. What do you do for the library? You seem a little young to be shushing people and checking in returns."
"Thank you," you laugh "I actually run the story time center, read to kids a few times a week."
"That's sweet. Do you like it?"
"I do. I love seeing their faces when the fairy tales become real, and their imaginations take over."
You blushed when you realized Ted had been watching you with a dopey smile on his face.
"What do you do and your wife do?"
"She works in corporate for a management company. Long hours, but it brings in good money, and I work from home so it's not so bad. My jobs a little less important, I'm a producer."
"What do you produce?"
"I write and then film videos for kids. Songs, make animations with it. And then outside of that one of my friends and I have a podcast."
"What is it called? I'll have to check it out, they're all that keeps me awake when I'm up late finishing projects."
"It's stupid, really. We started it up with another friend of ours just for fun and we talk about bullshit. But it's called Chuckle Sandwich."
"Sound interesting, I'll have to check it out."
You turned your head to the sound of heels clicking across the tile. An attractive woman walked in, fastening an earring, her business ensemble looking more expensive than your car.
"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Carrie." She holds out a perfectly manicured hand.
"Y/N." you said, taking her hand to shake. "Ted tells me you work in management."
"Did he tell you to call him that? I'm sorry." She looked at Ted. "Honey, I've told you that's unprofessional. Mr. Nivision is fine, Y/N."
"Oh. Of course." You nod.
"Anyway, I'd love to stay and chat but we're running a bit late. "Theodore?" She says, walking out of the room.
"Right. That's my cue to leave. Um, emergency numbers on the fridge, you've got my number, but let me get you Carries, just in case." He says, writing on a hanging notepad. "The girls ate just before you got here, but there's leftovers in the fridge or snacks in the cabinet if they get hungry. Help yourself as well. Um... Bed by 9:00? Between you and me though, I don't usually get them to bed until later than that so you be the judge, I trust you. I think that's it." He says, looking around to see if anything would spark anything else. "Yeah, that's it."
Walking back in to the family room he leaned down to the twins.
"Okay babes, Mommy and I will be back later, but you might be asleep. You're gonna stay here with Y/N, okay?"
"Okay!"
"Yes, Daddy!"
Ted pulled them both in for a hug, blowing raspberries into both their cheeks.
"Love you to death." he says, standing. "Thanks again, and I'm sorry for the late notice."
"No worries! Have fun."
*************
A while later you were singing songs with the girls, and were currently only the alphabet.
"-E F G, H, I, J, K, LMNOP, Q-"
"That's my name." You looked at Penny where she was sitting at your feet and coloring.
"What was that, Penny?"
You said my name. Penelope."
"Kinda sounded like that, didn't it? Should we call you that now? LMNOP?" She gave the biggest smile you'd seen from her since you'd met her and nodded.
"Okay, sounds great." you laugh. Looking at the clock you noticed the time. "It's getting kind of late. Should we put on a movie before we go to bed?"
The girls had agreed vehemently and rushed to their room to change into their pajamas while you got a movie set up to play.
After the movie ended, both girls were nodding off against your sides, fighting the urge to fall asleep completely.
"Alright, come on guys. Bedtime." You said, picking them up and carrying them into their room.
Turning on the light you smiled at their nursery. The walls on either side matched each girl perfectly, even though you'd only spent a few hours with them. Tilly's wall was spattered in bright rainbow colors, wild and fun, while Penny's wall was a soft pink, tiny dots of white sprinkled like stars.
Helping them into their beds you tucked them in, walking to the door and starting to dim the lights before you heard a soft request for a bedtime song.
"A bedtime song?"
"Daddy sings." Tilly explained.
"Alright, lets see." you though before starting to quietly sing 'You Are My Sunshine', and by the time you were done both girls eyes were shut in a deep slumber.
Turning to the door to leave you jumped when you noticed Ted standing in the doorway.
"Shit- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"That's alright." You softly laughed, exiting the room.
"You have a wonderful voice." Ted said, walking you to the door.
"Oh. Thank you. How was dinner?"
"It was nice. It was better knowing the girls were home with someone who would take such good care of them."
"Good."
Ted handed you a folded wad of cash.
"Oh, Mr. Nivison, this is too much, I couldn't-" You started, counting out the stack of twenty dollar bills.
"Nonsense. If it makes you feel better you can consider it a retainer."
"Retainer?"
"Yes. The house looks wonderful, and I can tell you're good with kids, and I bet the girls got along great with you. If you'd like, we be happy if you'd be our new babysitter."
"Yeah, that'd be great. I'd love to."
Ted smiled.
"That's great. Now, it's late and I'm sure you need to get home, so I'll let you go." He said, opening the door.
"Good night." you said, starting down the porch steps.
"Oh, and Y/N,"
You paused, turning back to face him.
Ted looked into the house behind him before looking back at you. "Call me Ted."
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agendabymooner · 1 year
Text
it’s time to go ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)
“sometimes giving up is the strong thing.”
summary: sylvie edson ford hearth swore not to think about what had happened back in 2012, but max verstappen has a different plan with his absent childhood friend. OR lando norris has a bad habit of sharing things that he isn’t permitted to share— like her phone number.
content warning: written and text messages applied, frenemies to lovers (ish), hurt/comfort? or angst, use of explicit language, model!student!ofc (sylvie), mentions of anxiety, consciousness, childhood friendships
note: i had to listen to a lot of ts songs. thank you all for the 82 followers!!! i’m so glad you guys are enjoying the content i make. i honestly had been making them because i keep them in my notes but never wrote full narratives of them. if they are written down, they’re normally not published— aka they’re in my wattpad draft. so… i hope you guys enjoy this xx
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Everybody swore that the two would get together eventually. Too bad it didn’t work like that.
Christmas was what Sylvie considered the best time of the year. She loved the way Christmas lifted the spirits of everyone, no matter how difficult the year had been for them. She loved being one of the children who would chase each other down the halls while parents gathered around and talked about the last season. She loved being around people that knew her well.
The thing was, however, no one knew her anymore. Not as well as they used to.
For a supermodel-on-the-rise, she sure felt conscious about the amount of eyes that watched her as she stepped foot inside the ballroom of the estate. The tulles of her red skirt should have given her more space to breathe, but she felt her body hyperventilating as she nearly dove headfirst into the mini bar.
Looking down on her newly manicured nails had been a habit of hers that night. She pretended to admire the polished nails while she waited for the bartender to mix her strawberry daiquiri, not wanting to look up and meet anyone’s eyes.
The teenagers and the ones who recently left that phase wondered how… How did she change that much?
Her physique certainly matured more than anyone could expect. Her slightly rounded cheeks were replaced by the sharp jawline that could possibly kill. Her eyes that avoided any form of communication were foxy and just as sharp as her jaw. Her nose was just as sharp, as well. If you were to ask Lando, she didn’t have to wear heels to out-height him. Her body and face were no longer recognizable. She was ready to be a fan favourite and a well-paid supermodel.
Funnily enough, she prioritized racing first before she did her child modeling classes. How she managed to transition from one thing to another in the span of three years, nobody could answer. She was a jack of all trades, said by her mother, just like her siblings. She was one of the many sisters who had more options to pursue instead of just sticking to racing. So for her to continue with modeling and fashion… yeah, she already knew how to operate before she was even hired by an agency. At least now she didn’t have to struggle with finding work. She didn’t have to worry about getting hired by a team.
Her career now was clearly something that she couldn’t act on, though. She was always told to walk, don’t pay attention to what everyone’s talking about and get a move on.
But this party wasn’t a runway. The judging eyes didn’t want to pay attention to the details of the clothes, but rather, the figure who wore the dress herself.
“You’re a bit tense, lovie,” Tilly was a blessing in disguise, shaped in the form of a woman who carried a 20 weeks worth of a precious gift in her womb. She must’ve picked up on Sylvie’s discomfort that she decided to strut towards her sister’s direction as quickly as a pregnant woman could. “You could have stayed at home, as I said.”
“I’ve got to say hi to them at some point,” Sylvie murmured to her sister. “Especially Lando. That bloke wouldn’t let it go if I decided to avoid him, too.”
“Well, they should be around here,” Tilly quipped as she rubbed her stomach. Seeing the movement in her peripheral vision, Sylvie spontaneously reached out and got a feel of the bump. She tried to ease her mind by doing the most peaceful thing. “They’re not looking at you for the wrong reasons, Sylv. I promise.”
“If they are, then they’re going to have to face Maman and I’s wrath,” Tilly cheekily smiled. Tilly looked past Sylvie’s shoulder as she said, “Look. Here are the boys.”
Sylvie was glad that her glass was empty and already resting at the counter, otherwise she would have made a scene if she had dropped it after being attacked by a bear hug.
“Fucking Lando,” she swore beneath her breath, trying to pull him off as she turned feeling restrained. He wouldn’t let go. She would have sworn once more, preferably aloud this time, had it been for the other boys that stood excitedly with him. She couldn’t even look at them properly due to the hold that Lando had on her.
“I told you I was going to kidnap you,” Lando let out an evil laugh before waving enthusiastically at Tilly, “Thanks, Tils! I’ll return her to you later!”
“Good, you better,” Tilly called out.
Her poor feet would be dead by the end of the night and Sylvie knew that she was fucked if she didn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t like she could stop Lando from dragging her down to wherever he’s taking her to just so she could slip out of her Valentino. She couldn’t seem to stop him especially when they both passed by familiar faces. Especially one that she didn’t want to see.
Fucking Max Verstappen. She thought that God was laughing at her that night.
She couldn’t even look at him by the time that they formed some sort of circle around the lounge room.
The telly was on, but it had been playing nothing but the screen of the karaoke waiting to show its texts and tunes. None of them paid that much attention to it, especially her.
The boys seemed like they were craving for companionship of a woman as they surrounded her with curiosity and excitement. They tried to get her attention while she was still speaking to another person. She felt like she was what Fergie was talking about in Fergalicious.
She still couldn’t look him in the eyes, situating herself between Charles Leclerc— her favourite enemy in the track and George Russell— the boy that she once called “everyone’s crush”— to avoid sharing a conversation with Max. She made sure she sat next to the two, not looking at the Dutchman as she continued to catch up with Lando and the other people she was acquainted with.
Most of them knew who she was, of course. She had been friends with most of them for years, finding themselves in the same track as they trained. She competed with them, offering nothing to the boys but fun and friendly competition. She saw things differently from everyone else. No matter how much she wished to be an F1 driver, she didn’t push past her limits— not even when her father told her to.
She was dubbed “the Wild Mustang” at the age of 10 after she realized that she was able to reach the pedal and brake of her mother’s vehicle.
The boys had never seen someone do a donut in their own parking lot before. Let alone a 10-year-old girl—thank god for her Uncle Gilles for teaching her how to do that on TV. Despite their amazement and enthusiasm, Sylvie was no longer allowed to be in the vehicle on her own after she was caught doing another donut while the other kids watched and cheered. Sylvie clearly made everyone’s time because of her wildness and risky attitude. Oh, and her blunt mouth.
So for her to sit silently as she nodded to whatever it was that her acquaintances were talking about? It wasn’t her.
Ever since she left the academy, at the age of 14, she didn’t look back. She didn’t look back at her own friends, either. Lando was the only one persistent enough to barge inside her room only for him to find out that she was packing to go to university.
Extremely early advancement program, she said. She went to university and while she was there, Lando made sure that she’d call him at least once in a while. Otherwise the security would have a problem fighting with a 4 foot something boy who only wanted to see his friend.
Nobody truly saw her behaviour change besides from her family… and Lando. She seemed more reserved when she’s out and about, much to Lando’s dismay. He really hated it when he was the only one who would bring the energy into the room. As if she lacked the power. Lando was convinced that he annoyed her because of the lack of retorts she had passed to him.
He didn’t stop talking to her. He abruptly confronted her about her behaviour instead of trying to skirt his way around it. He was more than relieved that she wasn’t annoyed by his presence, yet he was curious to know what had her acting like this. She had been like that since she left the academy. Her silence could be interpreted as sourness and hatred.
Regardless, they saw each other every other six months whether it’s during the race weekend or an event hosted by a family. But she never went to any of his racing tournaments.
She had attended certain Formula One race weekends throughout the absence of her racing career. People only caught a glimpse of her whenever she went, wondering how fast she’d disappeared even when she visited each garage.
Her attitude remained the same to her family, though. That’s why Tilly and her sisters wondered how people could see Sylvie as an introvert or a bitch. She made fun of Tilly back when Toto was still a stranger to the family. She spoke to whichever Mercedes staff had brought her to the grandstand or hospitality. She was… still her.
She refused to speak to people her age— that weren’t her sisters, of course. Especially those who were familiar with the tracks and familiar with who she was. She never looked at them. She didn’t feel comfortable being in this room. Lando was just pushing her to speak as much as she could since his attention was everywhere. He was friends with everyone in the circle and that meant that she, too, had to speak.
Still, she couldn’t seem to reply to Max. She’d only have a passing comment if he asked something to her. He was clearly trying to get her attention, but her eyes were trained anywhere else but his own pair.
“I want some more Coke,” Lando complained, “you should have gotten more, Alex.”
“Eh? Why me? Why don’t you get up?” Alex Albon replied with a scoff, “You’re the one who’s drinking it.”
She took this as an opportunity to dip out for a moment as she said, “I’ll grab ‘em.”
“Thanks Mustang,” Lando’s boyish grin appeared on his face as she stood up from the carpet. Her skirt slightly wrinkled from sitting on the floor for too long, but her feet were thankful that the low heels that she wore were taken off. “You are the best.”
“Only when you need something, espèce de salaud paresseux.” you lazy bastard. Charles snorted, clearly understanding what she just called Lando as she walked down the hallway to find the little man cave that she once explored. The room was dark, the only thing that brightened was the mini fridge with cans of Coke in them.
She didn’t know why she tiptoed towards it, kneeling down to its level as her fingers touched the cold metal. She didn’t even realize she couldn’t carry that many cans. Lando, on a good day, would drink a dozen of the mini cans and Sylvie learned that you might as well get them all now before he bitches about running out of drink.
“D’you need help?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” She hit her head when she tried looking up to see who just spoke. But she didn’t need to look. She already knew who decided to corner her. In a dark room.
“Shit, shit, sorry schat,” Max swore as he reached out, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a hiss, “lost a fucking brain or two but I suppose I am.”
The last time that they spoke was at the paddock during the 2014 Silverstone race. That was when he shoulder checked her unintentionally, leaving her to bark at him in annoyance before stomping off. They didn’t even see each other’s faces.
“Here, do you need help?” He asked genuinely, gesturing with his empty hands as he offered some sort of support.
She didn’t bother hesitating, just shoving the cold cans of pop in his arms while she turned to grab more. She busied herself with the fridge before she groaned after hearing him clear his throat.
“So uh… How have you been, Sylvie?”
“Delightful,” she responded drily.
“How was your first and second term?”
“Busy.”
“How are you doing with the…modeling stuff then?” Oh he really wouldn’t leave without getting words out of her mouth.
“Great,” she muttered. He still wouldn’t catch onto the disinterest in her tone. Was he really this oblivious or did he lose a brain cell or two for the past few years?
“You look—“ he cleared his throat once more, feeling his face flush pink as he remembered the last picture that he saw of her. The holiday collection of Victoria’s Secret Pink. “You looked very beautiful at them.”
She paused, wondering what the fuck was he doing in the man cave with her. What was the reason for his intervention? Did he corner her just to compliment her latest project?
“Thank you,” she sighed before grabbing the last of the cans, kicking the fridge closed as she walked past him.
“I want to catch up with you,” he voiced out as they walked down the hallway. It remained empty, the ballroom was obviously occupied by loud music and loud guests and hosts. The lounge room, despite it being a few feet away, remained loud as well as the boys sung their hearts out. Poorly.
His voice echoed in the hallway, leaving her to pause and turn around. She remained standing there as he finally jogged towards her. They were both still cradling cans of pop as if those were their children.
“It’s just…” Max trailed off, wanting to scratch his head but couldn’t. “You stopped talking to all of us after you left. At least all of us but Lando.”
She wanted to scoff. She wanted to laugh at his face. There was no way he’d have this much audacity to assume that she’d even dare talk to him. Not after all of that fiasco.
“Some of us were wondering,” he rocked back and forth on his feet. “Especially with where you went after all of that. I was going to apologize to you.”
“Hm,” she hummed disinterestedly. She was itching to go back to the lounge room.
“For doing that,” Max spoke meekly.
She was infuriated for the first time in four years. She had never been angry about this. She downplayed her anger and acted as if she had only quit the academy when she was already on her way to become the first female F1 driver. She pretended that he didn’t exist, because God only knew what she could do at the thought of him.
Back in 2014, when she learned that he was a reserved driver, she begged her sister for something so silly. To fire Max. She didn’t really mean that. She only wanted to say his name with disdain to let it out of her system. But then she returned to her routine of being silent and keeping some shit to herself, not wanting to slag him off any further as an ounce of guilt filled her mind.
Then he said some shit like this. He wouldn’t even tell her what he did. She had never been so angry since now.
But she could only offer nothing but a cold tone. “For doing what?” She asked coolly, looking at him in the eyes as she challenged him.
Her coldness left him stammering, “F-for the uh…” then he was silent.
Watching his mouth clamp shut, she laughed humourlessly before shaking her head in disbelief. “If you’re going to apologize, you have to recognize what you’ve done first. Oh, Verstappen,” she tutted, “you are so silly.”
Walking back to the lounge room, she left him behind in the hallway. Maybe after today, she could cry herself to sleep this time. She hasn't been able to cry ever since she left. Maybe after letting that out, she’d be able to rest a little bit better.
Everyone thought that, after growing up with each other, they’d end up as something else that’ll last forever. But if anyone had seen this confrontation, they’d express how wrong they were. Because the first glimpse of her long lost lover turned into something like hate. It wasn’t the same as it was before 2012.
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angelcakestarlet · 5 months
Text
gold rush
van palmer x reader : the yellowjackets catch onto van's crush on their one of their teams cheerleaders
"van!", the whistle catches vans attention across the moist green field. "did you not see the ball coming straight for your god damn head?" coach martinez questions the dazed ginger. "focus come on!" coach blows the whistle to reset before she even gets the chance to get up. van might not be the tallest girl on the team, but she was the perfect pick for goalie. when the ball came towards that net she was a fiery cannon launching to protect the box. after their last game, 0-3, and an undefeated season, people started saying the game was rigged due to the yellowjackets goalie being psychic. while van was no psychic, she had a knack for predicting what her opponent would do next. according to her she "just goes with her gut". however, lately her 'gut' seems a little distracted.
each second van's eyes were not on the girls pursuing the net, they were on the girl's soccer team cheerleaders. particularly, you. van couldn't help simply 'observing' the way your skirt hiked up your soft thighs as you demonstrated your moves to the squad. or the way your ponytail sat high on your head and the sweat slipped down your neck... and that's how she ended up on the floor, soccer ball to the head with a sorry laura lee cowering over her. coach martinez yelling had caught your attention as you peered across the field to spot the redhead laying exasperated in her goalie box. you would be lying if you said you hadn't noticed her initially when you first began cheering for the team. her quick hands and strong calves from all the laps coach made them run around the field before practice. you were always the confident type, not shy when it came to boys, your team mates, and getting what you want. but van had a struck a different chord in you, one you were all too familiar with after watching bound with jennifer tilly and gina gershon in theaters that october. while your van halen and backstreet boys posters covered the fore front of your pink room, corky posters were plastered all over your closet. but corky was a character in a movie, you'd never gotten that feeling at the pit of your stomach from a girl in real life, right? well there was that time in eight grade when you and your friend practiced kissing for the winter formal. but that was one time; until now. that feeling in your stomach kicked in every time you got a look at the goalie and it ticked you off. the one time you wanted to put your cherry lip gloss adorned smile to work your nerves got the best of you. it was nearly winter break now and you had only spoken to van in passing during practice and games. your cheeks stung red recalling the night they won states, "maybe you're our lucky charm out there" she had rushed towards you still pumping adrenaline from the win, you cracked a smile in response before she corrected herself, "you and the rest of the girls of course".
now, you lightly jogged (not wanting to look too concerned) towards her and laura lee. "hey, are you ok? i could hear the ball thump against your head from all the way over there." she leaned up, making eye contact with you and chuckling, "are you calling me a hard head?" her teammates looked back at you two as they reset to their positions. "it was me, i really didn't mean to vanessa honestly!" laura lee apologized frantically. "it's alright laura lee, just go back before coach kicks both our asses". you offer van a hand to help her up, "thanks" she huffs out. at the first attempt of standing she wobbles and makes her way back to the ground, "shit i'm dizzy". "alright look l/n, take her to the nurse please. jackie pose as goalie for now." coach directs his attention to two of you as he notices van's state. you widen your eyes at his request as that feeling kicks in again causing your stomach to churn. you hesitantly agree and help van up once more with her arm propped up on your shoulder. "fuck i hate the nurse, misty quigley is always in there with her." you giggle, "i'm guessing misty is the last thing you want to see right now." "when does anyone want to see misty quigley?" you nod in agreement, every encounter with misty is never something you look forward to. "i can take you to the locker room, i have some pain medicine and water in there if you just want to lay down for a second. without the presence of misty quigley of course." "why thank you, that sounds lovely" she says drowsily accompanied by that silly accent she puts on.
you practically drag van to the locker room and sit her down on the bench by your locker. "i think staring at your locker will only make my headache worse" van snickers referring to your locker decorated in bright pink paint and a big hair bow front and center. "hey, don't make fun of my locker. remember who just saved your life!" you pout at her. "sorry, sorry how could i forget. after all you are the teams lucky charm." she proclaims dramatically. "well is my squad the lucky charm or is it just me, cause if i remember correctly..." van lays down against the bench chuckling, "well you're the only one i pay any attention to at least". you pause while rummaging through your locker for some ibuprofen, turning to face the girl. she looks back at you, "what? hey, are you blushing or did you just get a little heavy handed with the powder today?" you bring your hands to your cheeks and feel the warmth against your skin. "i think you have a concussion van." you dismiss her flirty comments and hand her two ibuprofen and an unopened water bottle. "what makes you say that?" her fingers brushing against yours as she takes the pills, you roll your eyes at her sudden boldness. "you rarely speak to me and now you're saying that you pay attention to me?" the silence in the locker room stiff as you hear her swallow. "what can i say, i find it hard to talk to pretty girls." you stifle a giggle "woah you're totally blushing now, you can't deny it man". you turn to face her a smile plastered on your seemingly flushed face. "this is how you thank me for nursing you back to health?" you raise your eyebrows, "well what do you have in mind miss cheer captain?" she sits up leaning on her arms settled behind her. "stop getting hit in the head so that we make it to nationals." "it's kind of hard not to when you're out there in this little skirt," she takes the end of your pleated skirt between her fingers "what else am i supposed to look at?". if your stomach was churning before, it's like a battalion of butterflies at war in there now. "are you hitting on me, palmer?" you look up at her through your lashes. "would that be so terrible?" her face suddenly (nearly) serious. before you can answer, the door to the locker room swings open, all the girls piling in, sweaty and with dirt covered knees. "so what's the diagnosis, y/n, is she doomed?" nat's voice comes creeping around the corner. you get up quickly, shutting your locker and flattening your skirt. "definitely." van's eyes follow you as you leave. when the door shuts behind you, nat and lottie erupt in laughter. "does she know she is the reason for your little concussion?" they come up behind van, teasing her. "i'm injured, leave me alone!" the goalie rests her head against your pink locker and groans as her team mates share a round of "ooo''s amongst themselves.
thank u for reading :> i think van is super underrated and needs more fics, i love her!!! hope u enjoyed!
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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 11 months
Text
a little treat (nsfw)
AO3 link
Summary: Larissa decides to treat herself to a massage. ;)
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♥ please do not hesitate to leave me a comment on ao3 if you feel so inclined -- it makes my heart sing ♥
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It’s 10am and Larissa can’t focus for the life of her.
She’s wound too tight, her shoulders are achey, she has a throbbing headache and she feels a deep discomfort in the pit of her stomach. It’s the final month of the winter semester, and the stress is really getting to her. Wednesday’s latest stunt caused more grey hairs to appear on her temples and everybody seems to be on her case — the mayor, the parents, the teachers, the students. 
She needs a fucking vacation.
She can’t afford to take a vacation — the school would collapse without her. Wednesday would probably burn it to the ground if Larissa took a single day off. 
She could, however… perhaps… maybe… take an afternoon off. Nobody has to know. It would be just one afternoon — it could even be today. She desperately needs to unwind somehow. 
But what should she do? Just… take a nap? Is she even physically capable of taking a nap? She doubts it — she’s far too anxious for it. She’d just end up working again.
She arches her back, cracks her neck. Her shoulders are terribly stiff. 
Perhaps she should get a massage.
She’s never had a massage before. She never seems to find the time for something like that, and quite honestly, she always thought it a waste of money. However, her shoulders don’t seem to share her opinion — they might just petrify if she continues to live like this.
She googles massage places nearby. There appear to be plenty — but one in particular sticks out. People seem to love it. It has many reviews, all of which are excellent.
"really REALLY enjoyed my massage :) 10/10"   "Ask for Tilly when you come if you like gentle hands. Fantastic experience."   "The Best message place……. reccommend…….."   "I’m a regular here. I always leave satisfied. Highly recommend."   "my first time getting a massage like this.. but i loved it!"
Before she knows it, Larissa is calling the massage place and booking an appointment, and, fortunately, they seem to have an opening this afternoon. The woman on the phone asks her if she wants a regular massage and informs her that they only have female masseuses — Larissa finds that a bit odd, but thinks nothing of it. She just wants her massage. A regular one — whatever the hell that means.
She spends the rest of her day working and anxiously waiting for the time to leave. She answers parents’ phone calls, deals with insufferable teenagers, schedules an appointment with the Mayor for tomorrow afternoon — her headache gets worse when she thinks about how she’ll have to debase herself, grovel and beg for more funding. She, however, ignores most of her emails, despite the angry red notifications popping up on the app annoying her to no end. She makes a pact with herself to look at those after the massage.
The time to go finally arrives — she lets out a sigh of relief as she locks her office and goes to exit the school building. She loves Nevermore, but you can get sick even of your favourite things if you look at them every day. 
She gets in the car, ignores the phone that buzzes incessantly, new emails arriving every couple of minutes. The massage will need to be out of this world if she wants to forget about all this stress — and she doubts it will be. She already regrets doing this — it will probably be a waste of time and money. She wonders if she’s capable of relaxing at this point. Does she even remember what being relaxed feels like?
She's lost in thought as she drives to the massage place. She thinks about emails that need to be answered, anxiety pooling in her stomach, and listens to the robotic voice of her phone navigation — before she knows it, she’s already arrived. 
She parks the car and enters the establishment — the place seems decent. A young, cheerful receptionist greets her as she approaches the desk.
“I have a 5 o’clock appointment,” she says, not bothering with a greeting. She thinks about her emails.
The receptionist checks her laptop, and Larissa checks out her cleavage. She considers the outfit a bit inappropriate for the workplace, but Larissa isn’t one to complain about a pleasant view. However, if any of her employees dressed like that, she’d have a word with them. 
“Ah, yes, I have you right here. Miss Weems, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“A regular massage, is it?”
What is it with these people and their “regular” massages? What even is a “regular” massage? And does that imply there’s such a thing as an “irregular” massage?
She doesn’t, however, ask any of those questions — instead she just says yes and impatiently taps her fingers on her purse. She wants to be done with this as quickly as possible so she can return to Nevermore. She’s getting quite fidgety. What if she returns and finds the school in ruins?
“Alright. You can always change your mind during, you know that,” the receptionist says and Larissa ignores her, still tapping her fingers on her purse. 
“You can go inside and get comfortable. Your masseuse will be with you shortly.”
Larissa just curtly nods and goes to the massage room, eager to get this over with. She anxiously checks her phone. She has 36 unanswered emails. She feels nauseous. Maybe this was a bad idea — maybe she shouldn’t have taken an afternoon off. God knows what Wednesday will do if she realises Larissa left the school grounds. She then remembers her appointment with the Mayor tomorrow and her stomach churns. She has to think about how to best present her case — balance the grovelling with the persuading, and maybe throw in a bit of flirting for good measure…
Her mind is racing. She eyes the emails again. Maybe if she just responds to a couple of urgent ones… it will take a minute or two at most — and then she can undress.
She responds to three emails — none of which are truly urgent, but should probably be addressed sooner rather than later — when she hears a knock on the door that brings her back to reality, and she realises she’s still dressed. 
She opens her mouth, wants to ask for five more minutes, but the door opens before she can speak and the prettiest young woman Larissa has ever seen enters the massage room. 
“Hi! Miss Weems, I presume?” she asks. 
Larissa drops her phone on the ground and swears out loud.
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You enter the massage room and the first thing you see is a tall, gorgeous, blonde woman in her forties, still fully dressed. You’re a bit confused — doesn’t she know how this works?
“Hi!” you say. “Miss Weems, I presume?”
The woman drops her phone on the ground. 
“Fuck,” she says, and immediately covers her mouth, as if surprised by her own reaction. “Fuck,” she repeats. “Yes. Sorry.” She bends down to pick up the phone.  
She — Miss Weems — is, by all accounts, rather odd — the tallest woman you’ve ever seen, dressed like a 1940s movie star, with hair so blonde it’s almost white pinned in an intricate updo, swearing instead of a greeting (to be fair, she has the most beautiful, velvety voice and a British accent that would probably make anything she says sound sensual and sophisticated), apparently unaware you have to be undressed for a massage.
You are immediately enamoured with her. 
“I can give you a couple more minutes,” you say as you watch her fumble with her phone, shoving it in her purse. “You do kind of need to be undressed for this.”
“I'm sorry, I seem to have lost track of time — I just needed to respond to a couple of emails. They were quite urgent.”
“That’s alright, Miss Weems, but we do have a limited amount of time.”
You have no one scheduled for another half an hour after her, and for this woman, you’d gladly cut your break short — but you don’t say that, deciding to remain professional. 
“I apologise,” she says, taking off her coat. “My head seems to be elsewhere. I’ll undress in a moment.”
“You can leave it on the hanger there,” you say. “I’ll leave you to it, I can give you another ten minutes.”
“Oh no, we shouldn’t waste time,” she says. She strides across the room, hips swaying in the tight skirt, to put her coat on the hanger. A pleasant scent of subtle, citrusy perfume reaches you as she passes by you. “I’ll undress in a moment.”
She hangs the coat, then pauses, turning towards you. “Do I need to… fully undress?”
She seems a bit nervous. You find her confidence and charisma mixed with clumsiness and nervousness absolutely irresistible. 
“People generally do, but you can undress to your comfort level. You’ve booked the regular massage, haven’t you?”
“I’ve been asked that about a dozen times today. Yes, I’ve booked the regular massage,” she says, sounding annoyed as she unbuttons her shirt. 
“We're required to double-check. Just know that if you change your mind during, we charge a higher fee.”
Larissa ignores you. You have a feeling this woman can be a handful. 
You don’t mind.
You try not to be creepy and stare at her chest as she takes her shirt off, so you go fumble with the massage oils, even though you already have everything ready.
She shimmies out of her skirt, and you can’t resist — you stare at her long legs, clad in nude stockings that are held up with garters. Who even wears garters nowadays? And why does she look so hot in them? 
As she undoes the garters and pulls her stockings down, your eyes drift from her legs to her lacy underwear. Your throat is suddenly dry.
Small talk would probably be a good idea. You have to remain professional.
“So, this is your first time getting a massage?"
"Is it that obvious?" she asks, giving you a pretty, practiced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. You can tell her mind is elsewhere.
"How come you’ve never had one before?”
“Oh, I’ve just never really had the time. But the back pain has really been getting to me lately. I’ve been feeling rather stressed.”
You can believe that — despite being absolutely stunning, the woman is as stiff as a stick. You can tell the woman hasn’t relaxed in decades. Her shoulders and neck appear rigid, her jaw seems to be perpetually clenched, and she wasn’t even able to put her phone aside for five minutes to undress for a massage. 
“Oh? Is your job usually stressful or is it just a rough period for you?”
She scoffs. “I think it suffices to say my job requires me to deal with teenagers on a daily basis.”
“That does sound stressful,” you say, deciding not to pry further. You need to shift the conversation away from her job — get her to relax. “I'll try my best to make you forget all about that today, Miss Weems.”
“I do hope you manage that, darling, but I’m afraid I’m a tough case. And no offence, but how much experience do you have with this?” She flashes you a bright smile — it reads as condescending. It pisses you off — and turns you on. “You seem awfully young. Are you in college?”
Definitely more than you since this is your first massage, you want to say, but instead you decide to be polite. “I’ve had sufficient training. And yes, I’m in my last year of college.”
“I must tell you, I’m not sure I believe a massage could relax me — but I’m willing to give it a go, since I’ve already put the time aside for it.”
Oh, you’re never the one to back away from a challenge.
“I hope to change your mind then, Miss Weems.”
She gives you a saccharine, patronising smile, but says nothing.
You’d like nothing more than to fuck that smile off of her face.
You no longer bother averting your gaze as she removes her bra (a sheer, lacy thing that doesn’t cover much anyway) and reveals small, beautiful breasts. Your immediate thought is they’re the perfect size to put in your mouth. 
No matter if you’re attracted to your clients or not, you are always professional — you’re here to provide a service that you’re well payed for. You always manage to keep your own feelings and thoughts hidden and under control. 
It isn’t every day, however, that you have an actual goddess on your massage table — and one who challenged you, saying you couldn't possibly help her relax. Oh, how you wish she hadn’t chosen the regular massage… 
Suddenly, a devious thought pops up in your mind. You could… entice her a bit during the massage. Make her want it.
She appears a bit self-conscious walking to the massage table clad only in nude lacey underwear, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, but she keeps her head high and shoulders back, channeling confidence you aren’t sure she actually possesses. She’s still a vision, however, self-conscious or not. You watch her thighs and ass jiggle as she walks and it’s the most erotic thing you’ve seen in a while. 
Should you do it?
She climbs onto the table — she struggles to do it elegantly, as she’s a bit tall for it. You somehow find that very cute. Her ass jiggles as she finally settles face down on the table. You resist the urge to slap it. 
Oh, fuck it. It’s your last week on the job anyway.
You smirk as you rub the oil between your palms, warming it up. 
You’re going to play dirty.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Larissa tenses up as she feels soft, warm hands touch her shoulder blades. She isn’t used to people touching her. And to be quite honest, it’s been quite a while since she was naked (or almost naked) in front of anybody. She feels vulnerable.
“Allow yourself to relax, Miss Weems. This is your time.”
Her time — she hasn’t had an hour to herself in… who knows how long. She wants to relax, but it’s just so hard and…
Oh. 
She lets out a groan as the girl presses on just the right spot. Oh, that feels good. 
“Does that feel good, Miss Weems?” 
She hears the smugness in her voice, and she’s tempted to say no just to be spiteful, but then she presses on that good spot again and Larissa melts into the massage table.
“Mhmmm,” Larissa manages to utter. 
“Oh? I thought you were hard to please, Miss Weems.”
Now the girl is just being cheeky.
“In my school I punish the smug students when they talk back to me,” she breathes out and then moans as the masseuse finds another spot that makes her brain go fuzzy.
“Oh, you’d like to punish me? That’s kinky.”
Well. This seems to be going in a… direction. Not that Larissa would mind if the situation was different — she’s very much attracted to the girl — but this isn’t that sort of massage place…
….right?
“Are you… allowed to talk to me like that?” Larissa asks.
“Well, if you upgrade to the erotic massage, I can talk to you however you’d like. I could tell you how I’d like you to punish me. Or anything else you want, for that matter.”
Oh. So that’s why everyone kept checking if she wants the regular massage. And why the woman on the phone made sure to inform her they only have female masseuses available. And why the upgrade was so much more expensive.
The masseuse ventures a bit further down Larissa’s back, warm hands slick with oil gliding over her skin until they reach the band of her underwear. She rubs little circles around the edge of the fabric, sticking her thumbs underneath it, teasing, but not going further, and then going upwards again, following the line of Larissa’s spine. Her feather-light touch makes Larissa shiver. 
It’s been some time since Larissa was touched like that — couple of years, for sure. Four? No. Six? Oh, heavens. How has it already been that long? She’s just always so busy, and one night stands require so much effort, and dating requires even more, and…
Larissa’s brain is empty as the pretty masseuse runs her hands up her legs and starts to massage her buttocks, oiling them up, squeezing and kneading. Larissa moans quite loudly, and immediately feels her face go red with embarrassment at the sound she just produced. 
“I…”
“Of course, there’s no obligation,” the masseuse says, rubbing circles with her thumbs just where Larissa’s buttocks meet her legs. Larissa feels heat pool in her core. “You can have the regular massage.”
“And what does an… erotic,” she stumbles over the word, “massage usually imply?”
“It implies sensual touching, dirty talk, if you want, and we do offer mutual touch for a higher price. Oh, and we guarantee an orgasm.”
Larissa scoffs. “You guarantee it? That’s confident.”
Suddenly she feels hot breath on her ear. She shivers.
“Let’s make a deal, Miss Weems — if you don’t finish, I don’t charge you anything.”
Larissa hears herself speak before she’s aware she even made a decision. 
“Deal.”
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You glance at the clock as Larissa accepts your proposal. You have 40 minutes — that should be plenty of time. Worst case scenario, you extend the appointment into your break. 
You don’t know what it is about this woman, but you yearn to make her come undone. She’s wound so tight, seems to be some sort of a sick workaholic, and yet you can sense the suppressed desire radiating off of her. It’ll be a special pleasure to make her lose her composure. 
You rub her shoulders and back, trying to relax her as much as you can, finding the spots that make her moan, venturing lower and lower on her back.
“Can I take these off?” you ask, lightly pulling on her underwear. 
“Yes,” she says, and lifts up her hips to help you slide it off of her.
You fold her underwear, putting it to the side, but not before noticing the distinct wet spot on it. 
“I will undress — is that alright with you?” you ask.
“Yes,” she breathes out as you massage her lower back and buttocks. There’s a spot that makes her shiver when you run your hands over it — you make sure to repeat the motion, and you are rewarded with a loud moan. 
“Be aware you can revoke consent at any time,” you recite the obligatory line as you strip naked swiftly and efficiently. You do a quick job of rubbing oil on your breasts and stomach and then climb onto the massage table, straddling her legs and pressing your body against hers. She lets out a high pitched moan as you rub your breasts along her back.
“You said something about punishment, Miss Weems? Tell me, do you prefer good girls or bad girls?” you ask as you slide your hardened nipples against her oiled back.
“Fuck,” Larissa groans.
“Or do you prefer being called a good girl yourself?.”
Larissa whines.
“Do you like that, Miss Weems? Wanna be a good girl for me?”
“I— fuck,” she groans as you start running your palms over her thighs, squeezing and caressing, getting closer to her chore with each stroke.
“Is this alright? Be aware you can revoke consent at any time.”
“Yes,” she says.
“So you want to be a good girl, hm?” you say as you finally brush your thumbs against her core. Despite the slick massage oil, you can tell she’s wet. She spreads her legs as you touch her.
“Yes,” she says, quietly — as if she has a hard time admitting it.
“Will you turn for me?” 
You help her turn on her back beneath you. Her blue eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide, and a few stray hairs are sticking out of her updo. She is flushed in her face and chest, which somehow renders her milky, freckled skin even more attractive. 
“Good girl,” you say as you quickly grab more oil and rub it between your palms. She blushes a deeper shade of red.
“I just have to say that I don’t usually… do this,” she says.
Sometimes people feel the need to justify themselves, especially if it’s their first time having an experience like this — and even more so if they’re indulging in a fantasy they consider embarrassing or dirty — no matter if it’s something as common and innocent as being called a good girl.
You rub oil around her breasts and on her stomach. You feel her getting self-conscious, tensing up, glancing around nervously and fidgeting. 
“What a pity,” you say, palming her breasts, making her gasp, “that a pretty thing like you doesn’t know how to let herself be worshipped. You’ve been so good, worked so hard — you deserve to be taken care of.”
She produces a quiet whine — she seems to like that. Good. You’re back on track.
“Relax for me, that’s it,” you say, making sure to arch your back prettily, providing a nice view for her as you massage her breasts. You can feel she's slowly relaxing under your touch. “Good girl,” you praise her and run your thumbs over her nipples at the same time. She lets out a throaty moan. 
“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you ask, lowering your head to her chest that's slightly heaving under your touch.
“Yes,” she says with a hoarse voice. You leave a trail of kisses across her chest, the oil greasing your lips, before you take her right nipple in your mouth and suck on it. She keens and her hands immediately fly to your head to press you harder against her chest.
“Fuck, sorry,” she breathes out. “Can I do that?”
“Yes,” you say. “Want me to suck harder?”
“Yes — ah — and bite, please — mmmm, fuck,” she mewls as you suck and bite on her nipple while you pinch the other one with your hand. You use your free hand to caress her torso, her hips, knead the soft flesh on the side of her upper thigh.
“Such a good girl,” you murmur against her breast, taking her hard nipple between your teeth. “Asking for what you want. Is there anything else you want, hm? Or like?”
You run your hand in the inside of her thigh, teasing.
“I, ah… I like… dirty talk,” she manages to say between moans as you bite on her nipple and gently run your fingers through her folds — she’s soaked.
It isn’t a common thing for you to be so turned on by a client — it’s just a job, after all — but the feeling of Larissa’s wetness on your fingers, her wanton, broken moans, her slow, but certain relinquishing of control… it’s just so delicious. You want to fuck this woman every day. 
You kiss your way upwards to her neck and plant a hot kiss on her jaw. “Is this okay?” you whisper into her ear. She nods.
“I need you to be a good girl and use your words,” you murmur. Your obligatory line is “I need verbal consent” — but Larissa inspires you to be creative with it. 
“Yes,” she says with a breathy voice.
“So you like dirty talk, hm? You’d like me to tell you how hot and wet your cunt is against my fingers? And how much it will turn me on to fuck you?” you whisper, spreading her wetness across her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips into your hand. 
“Yesyesyes, please fuck me,” she whines, rolling her hips into your hand. “Fuck me like you’d fuck a dirty slut.”
You feel heat pooling in your own core at her words — and at the idea of fucking this uptight woman like a dirty slut.
You slowly slide a finger inside of her, curling it, and she spreads her legs further. She looks absolutely magnificent like this, flushed, chest heaving, eyes closed, mouth agape and head thrown back, all spread out for you, begging to be ravished. You start pumping your finger in and out — slowly, curling it inside — and she grabs your back and pushes you closer to her. Her gaze is hazy and hooded as she looks at you. “Harder,” she rasps, and the sheer lust in her voice makes you shiver. You go harder. 
Her moans are becoming louder as you continue to fuck her, and you decide to add a second finger. “Fuckyes,” she groans and moves her hips to meet your thrusts.
“You look so pretty while I fuck you like a dirty slut,” you say, voice breathy with exertion. “Such a good girl. You look so hot.”
She whines and tangles her hands into your hair. You wouldn’t usually let a client do that — but you let her. 
“Add another finger,” she says with a husky voice. She throws her head back and moans as you slip a third finger inside of her, then pushes your head towards her chest. You suck and bite on her nipples, alternating between both breasts as you fuck her hard and fast, making sure to angle your palm so it hits her clit every time you pound into her.
“Go harder,” she pants. Your hand kind of hurts at this point, but you oblige. The pain is immediately forgotten as you feel her starting to clench around your fingers.
“Your cunt feels so good around my fingers,” you murmur before sucking on her nipple.
“Fuckfuckfuuuck,” she whines as you pound into her. You can sense she’s very close. She’s bucking her hips into your hand and digging her nails into your shoulders, and her moans are becoming higher in pitch. You make sure not to falter in your movements, keeping a hard and steady pace, and soon her moans become high-pitched whines and intelligible swearwords.
“Be a good girl and come for me.”
As you say it, she grabs your hair, pulls your face up towards herself and kisses you.
Usually, you’d pull away if a client did that.
You don’t pull away.
It’s a hot, sloppy kiss, and she cries out into your mouth and closes her thighs around your hand as you fuck her through her orgasm. She spasms with the aftershocks and you can taste her cries of pleasure and her hot breath in your mouth. It’s raw and filthy and erotic.
You slowly pull your fingers out of her as she comes down from her high, her breathing slowing down, her grip on your faltering. She's putty in your hands, completely relaxed. 
You stay like that for a moment. Her eyes are closed, her chest still heaving. Your hand hurts, but you don’t care.
You glance at the clock — three minutes to spare. 
“I’m sorry,” she says, opening her pretty blue eyes. Her mascara is smudged. She looks absolutely ravishing, thoroughly fucked and flushed. “Do I have to go? What time is it?”
“No,” you say. “Take your time.”
She smiles nervously. You can tell she doesn’t know what do say or do — and to be honest, for the first time since you’ve started this job, you don’t really know either.
“Take your time, calm down, and then I’ll help you clean yourself up. I have half an hour to spare. I don’t want you to rush. I don’t charge extra for that.”
She nods, and closes her eyes. You stay like that for a couple of minutes — you rub hear arms, gently and reassuringly. 
“Well,” she says after minutes of silence, and smirks. She opens her eyes. “You won the bet. I’m pretty relaxed right now.”
You both laugh. 
The cleanup process is not as awkward as you expect it to be. The silence is somehow pleasant, rather than awkward. When you're both dressed and Larissa is heading towards the door, makeup freshly reapplied and her updo redone, she nervously glances towards you.
“So, uh, if I were to… come again,” she says, then pauses, and you can see her wincing at herself for the accidental pun, “would I be able to, um, I suppose, make sure you will, uh—”
“It’s my last week here.”
“Oh.”
She stands at the door awkwardly. “It’s been…” she pauses, glances nervously around the room, clearly struggling to find words. After a couple of moments, she finally meets your gaze, and you shiver under the intensity of it. 
“Thank you,” she says, her voice clear and genuine. You can tell she means it.
She turns to leave, but you stop her. 
“Wait,” you say. She waits, watches you grab a piece of paper from the side table and scribble on it. You approach her, awkwardly extending your arm, giving her the paper.
“My number,” you say, looking up at her.
She takes it. The corners of eyes crinkle in the loveliest way as she smiles at you before leaving.
She calls you a week later.
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waxflowerwoes · 1 year
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Pearlescentmoon as a changeling warlock for @shepscapades 's hermitcraft character design event! (closeup and design philosophy below the cut)
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okay i love love loved this pose. it lent to such great movement and positioning of the clothes (specifically the sleeves oh my gosh the sleeves were so fun to do). but anyways this design is originally based pearl's normal skin with the infusion of red for double life (i wanted to make her look a little more deadly + i love coloring red) and the fanon moth antennae. honestly i could have thought out the color palette a bit more but it's a little too late for that now isn't it lol. this was a good warmup for the rest of the design challenge :) i mostly made her a changeling so i could give her the moth antennae, but i also think it works with the trickster elements of a lot of pearl's personas. her warlock patron would probably a watcher inspired great old one. i think pact of the chain would be cool bc then she could have tilly as her familiar (i know wolves/dogs aren't on the normal list of familiars but it's d&d i can do what i want :D) i'll probably be doing pearl for the rest of the prompts, but who knows maybe scar or mumbo will make an appearance! those three seem to be the only hermits i draw lol. (okay i lied i have drawn grian twice. perhaps i should expand my horizons but why do that when i have a perfectly lovely comfort zone.)
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unidentifiedly · 4 months
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And many eventful nights to come
Micah Bell x reader
- In which Micah saves you from a "dangerous" situation. The man is smitten. Continuation to Eventful Morning.
Around a week later it was apparent Sean had kept his word. No one seemed to know or whisper about something having happened between you and Micah, and that was for the best. Arthur and John were still calling him names, Javier and Dutch were pretty much indifferent to him. Sean didn't tease him at all, but honestly you doubted anyone noticed, since he was being his old annoying self otherwise.
The day was set to be an exciting one. You and the girls were going to go shopping for new clothes, since a traveling salesman was visiting Valentine, the nearby town.
Atop your trunk near the mirror was your trinket box, in which you also stored some of the money you earned and had put in for safekeeping. This, you decided, was a good occasion to spend some of that money. You needed to buy at least two blouses and an overdress.
"Maybe it wasn't so bad what happened with Mr. Bell at the river after all." You caught yourself mid thought and almost slammed the trinket box shut, the metallic lock clicking shut with a bit too much force.
The feeling of wet fabric sticking to your cold skin, goosebumps traveling down your arms to your sides and onward to your legs. The early morning sun, and his arms...-
his arms holding you up from falling, his eyes all over your body.
"Why is my heart beating so hard?"
Shaking you away from the memory was Tilly calling for your name.
"Come on Y/N! Don't wanna be there too late, all them pretty dresses are going to be gone before we ever even see them!"
You stuffed the dollars to your pouch you carried with you, glancing at your gunbelt on the cot, taking a second to think.
"Whatever, there'll be many of us going', doubt i'll need that." Stomping out of the tent you made your way through the camp, past the fire pit and common area and grabbed Karen's outstretched hand, helping yourself onto the carriage.
Green fields upon green fields, a country road, not a cloud in the sky. The vast wide landscape shaping into mountains in the horizon, a couple of lush thickets here and there. Oh how you loved spring.
Upon arriving in Valentine you jumped down first, your bootheels sinking into the trampled upon mud. You corrected the hem of your red corduroy dress, helping Tilly and Karen down to the ground. Arthur and John who had been driving the carriage walked over, and bid their adieus after you all agreed to meet back at the same spot after an hour. You and the girls headed straight down the main street toward the vendor, who had set up shop on the vacant spot close to the sheriff's office.
Building after building were equipped with porches on stilts, to stop some of the mud from entering the interior perhaps, you thought. A couple of men passed out drunk by the saloon, and old woman smoking in front of the convenience store. On the opposite side of the street a motel, nice enough, and in front of it a gang of younger looking men.
You smiled to yourself, as one of them shot a look toward Karen. Always the looker.
With a skip in your step you took both the girls by their arms, smiling and laughing together.
Lifting the canvas to get into this tent was not necessary. The vendor had set up an open tent with tables filled with blouses, dresses, trousers and shoes of all different kinds. The vendor himself a lean dark skinned man with a thin moustache.
"Welcome, welcome, my ladies. What could I help you with today? A new dress, perhaps an embroidered blouse? The catalogue is large."
After deciding on some items, a red fabric caught your attention. Hidden beneath other clothes, you gently moved them away to uncover a bright vermilion blouse. Made from sturdy cotton and with patch-reinforced elbows, the shirt was undoubtedly of high quality. "How much for this one?" You asked, turning toward the shopkeeper.
"For you my dear, I will give a discount!" Pressing his hands together, closing his eyes: "Thirty and five dollars."
"Oh, I see, a bit too much then." You squeezed your hand around the pouch in your pocket, only containing a five dollar bill after splurging on the two blouses, overdress and new trousers you held on your other arm.
"Here." A grunt from behind you, and a man's arm placed bank notes and coins on the shopkeeper's outstretched hand. Looking pleased, the vendor offered the shirt, your eyes following the red of the fabric only to meet up with more red.
"Mr. Bell, please!" You huffed. "You have to stop scaring me like this!" Your complaints met with a smirk and a wink from under the rim of his dirty cowboy hat.
All of a sudden, a bang rang out, and women started screaming. Your eyes searched for the source of the scream, hands feeling for your trusty revolver, only to be met with air. "Fuck," you cursed after remembering you had decided to leave it in the camp.
"Eek!" A strong arm pulled you close and lifted you up on horseback. Micah stepped up on his horse's saddle, already swinging the reins for speed. "Hold on darlin'!" "You don't have to tell me twice!" Your arms hugging him tightly to keep yourself on Baylock. You caught a glimpse of Arthur tackling a guy to the ground while John was helping Karen up.
"Micah! We have to go help them!" Not turning around he slowed down until Baylock maintained a steady gait. Bringing the speed to a stop he jumped off, holding a hand out to you. You ascended as gracefully as one could, not taking his hand.
"Respectfully, Mic- Mr. Bell, you cannot keep doing this. Creeping up on me and causing me heart palpitations and awkward situations!"You huffed, red cheeked and arms crossed under your chest.
"Ya seem to like it, though, judging by the blush on yor cheeks."
"I- I don't know!" You blurted.
"Let me take ya out darlin'." Seeing your the doubting look in your eyes, he continued: "Nothin' weird, I swear."
Was this too good to be true? Sure, his methods of getting your attention were unorthodox but he wasn't exactly the most normal guy in the world. Glancing up at his eyes, shifting your weight to your right leg, you answered.
"Sure, Mr. Bell. Why not."
The seconds of uneasiness in his eyes turned into a few seconds of joy, and quickly back into his usual cocky self.
"Ya ain't gonna regret it. Quit the Mr. Bell bullshit though, call me Micah."
You nodded, and he motioned for you to get back onto the horse. You climbed up, yelping in the process after a palm made it's way firmly onto your rear, slapping and squeezing it. "Micah!"
"Ya like it, girl, quit yappin'."
Your arrival to the camp wasn't the quietest. Arthur yelling at Micah to swear he hadn't corrupted you, the girls calling him a dirty old man, and you just walking to your tent, giving Micah a joking smile and a wink from the doorway. His eyes looking past everyone questioning him and his motives, a sneaky smile spreading across his lips, a plan forming in his head.
Now there was a goal. He stuffed the new red shirt into his jacket and pushed past the people. He sat next to the fire and put his legs up, lighting a cigarette, angling himself so that he had a clear view of your tent.
And with everybody else gone to sleep, he downed the rest of his beer, saluting himself. "For an eventful night, and for many eventful nights to come." He got up, heading toward that tent with the light on with his signature smirk on his face.
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bambiinobambii · 1 month
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𝑀𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒪’𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶
(the character overlook)
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
these are all my opinions, totally open to the conversation about molly’s character also totally fine with people fact checking me, anyways i’m starting to fw o’shones
in the words of @krayzie-jelli the autism is autisming (don’t cancel me i have referrals to get tested 😔😔)
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
small credit;
the red dead fan wiki
@/reaperqween on tik tok (for the almost ten minute tik tok about mollys outfits which i ate up)
^ her tumblr is @river-of-wine send some love yall want 💕
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colour analysis & general observations
🪞💋🍓🌹🍰
colour theory is heavily used based on honor, the best example of this is dutch, he consistently wearing red, mostly on his back until guarma when the red is on the front, when dutch’s true intentions become more apparent, anyways onto molly.
🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧
COLTER
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(i went quite quick through colter so im actually unsure how she is with dutch, but from what i remember she doted on him a whole ton, constantly staying at his side and at one point saying “dutch is all the company i need”)
💋though a lot of people relate the red in different characters with low honor i think the fabric, the pattern itself points back to her privileged past
💋the necks scarf being green, i feel like it doesn’t imply much at this point but as the game continues it implies way more
💋the rest of the outfit being blue means a lot to me, there’s never anytime molly oversteps or is aggressive to anyone (obviously except from the obvious with karen, i’ll go back to this later)
💋i’d like to note that she’s still doing her makeup freezing and starving in the mountains
🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧
HORSESHOE OUTLOOK & CLEMENTS POINT
(i honestly will end up mixing these up so i grouped them together)
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(tbh my honest opinion is horseshoe is one of the best chapters based on the relationships in camp (tho sadie’s still going through it, you can’t have everything))
💋her first outfit has a good amount of blue in this outfit, her necklace has its first appearance with the red (i always got the vibe that dutch had gifted it to her as it’s more shiny than a lot of the metal in her outfits and it’s like a part of him)
💋she wears a thick belt with this outfit and the brass (?) seems worn, even coming from a wealthy background she holds onto clothes that look old and worn
💋she always wears white boots, she’s doesn’t have to do any work, and she’s not expected to do anything
💋the majority of the mornings in game, molly is constantly checking herself in a mirror
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💋i’m going to be honest i hate this shirt
💋but i’d like to think this shawl has always been with her and that she holds it close to her
💋her outfit is quite shapeless, and i think that’s how she liked to dress personally
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💋i would love to talk about this outfit
💋does this eat? yes, but i don’t think this was a honest choice for her
💋this outfit mirror mary-beth’s a lot, who seems to be dutch’s new interest
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sorry for the bad quality i used my own screenshot for this
💋this outfit particularly ^
💋there’s now a lot of cleavage in her outfit and she’s dressing more akin to other girls in the camp
💋and the gold in her outfits bright, and with mirroring marybeth, I also think this mirrors dutch’s style, with more red and gold incorporated
🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧
💋her relationship with dutch is starting to crumble, i heard a voice line where she says that she loves him and he thanks her (?!) you wouldn’t see me again personally
💋but to contrast that there’s some scenes were dutch kisses her hands and they’re all giddy and cuddly, and they eventually dance when sean’s rescued from blackwater
💋she’s also not well received by a lot of the gang, we get the first glimpse of that when you take mary-beth, tilly and karen to valentiene and karen says that molly’s “too high and mighty” to come with them
💋she attempts a to interact with numerous members
💋she also attempts to talk to tilly, tilly quickly brushes her off as she’s working and molly isn’t attempting to help her
💋i also saw an encounter with dutch and molly where, he approaches, and honestly he could be covered in shit and molly would still look up to him like he’s a messiah. dutch says “should i compare thee to…” he quickly cuts himself off asking her what he should compare her with, even asking arthur if you pass by (he actually says that dutch could compare her to an idiot if she actually believes dutch cares about her)
💋 throughout clements point, dutch talks down to molly as if she’s a child and then will quickly back himself up by calling her dear (to which if arthur intervenes when she goes off at him, dutch says she’s just leaving and she’s stomps away)
💋when she approaches abigail about the subject of dutch, abigail tells her “dutch don’t love you, not in the way you want to be loved”, molly gets defensive saying that she doesn’t get what she’s talking about, to which abigail says she does (implying drunk john?) and molly stomps away
💋i think this is the first time molly actually goes a bit crazy about dutch, she calls him a degenerate liar and stomps off when dutch wont argue back and (i think) goes to sleep, he at least turns away from her
💋i think people who discredit mollys character (men) don’t realise that her and dutch’s relationship show early signs about how manipulative dutch can be, he dumbs down what she says then calls her dear, eventually he only calls her miss o’shea, which she obviously goes off at him for
💋adding onto this i’d love to talk about her character item request of a pocket mirror and her asking arthur if bad lucks a thing, i feel like this is meant to reflect how young she actually is, like how kieran still referred to his parents as ma and pa, and that she genuinely seems nervous asking arthur for a mirror and the superstition of a broken mirror giving bad luck (which i guess you could say she had
💋and i feel like her vanity that the gang and from an outsiders perspective that she’s self absorbed but i think she’s more conscious about how she looks, she doesn’t have to lift a finger and not having much to do around camp because everyone distances themselves from her (i’ll obviously elaborate more when i get to writing about shady bell) i think she’s left alone with a mirror, which i feel is more implied that she’s had for a long time, i’d say since childhood, you become more conscious the more you look at yourself and if your man seemed to be going for someone younger than you, you’d loose it too
(tl:dr - molly doesn’t deserve any hate, the girls that get it, get it, men don’t, im so ready to talk about chapter 4&6)
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The poem
-
Uaibhreach
(the irish gaelic word which means “being proud and arrogant to the extent that it alienates & isolates you from those around you, leading to loneliness)
I was a girl - until your call
(i’m not going to annotate this everytime but the religion of this actually makes me feel like my hearts being ripped out)
Commanded me to cross the sea.
(she was driven out of ireland looking for freedom and adventure and she was enthralled by dutch’s charm, to be honest i always saw her “privileged upbringing” being her family owning a big farm, or in a big industry, a lot of irish people immigrated to canada after the potato famine, then crossed to america)
I've nothing left. I gave you all.
(i think she means this in, like, every sense)
My darling Liffey was so small.
Your land and love are vast and free.
(‘MERICA)
I was a girl until your call.
You stood so strong, and dark and tall.
You stole the heartbeat out of me.
I've nothing left. I gave you all.
Your lips enchant, your eyes enthrall,
Your empire is of ecstasy.
I was a girl until your call.
Your parasites and lackeys crawl,
(now do i think this is the gang or her fault that they don’t like her, i think its a mutual thing, they see her as a spoiled woman and she doesn’t help that opinion but i think she’s a young woman manipulated by an older guy, and that she thinks they’re all just jealous (which im sure she even says a few times)
Mocking a love they dare not see.
(going back to when she try’s to seek abigail’s help, or when she confronts karen later on and that she can’t see that he’s really not interested in her)
I've nothing left. I gave you all.
I sit in solitude and scrawl
These wretched words, and wait for thee.
I was a girl until your call.
I've nothing left. I gave you all.
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cassberry · 8 months
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(Looking to watch 3rd Life, Last Life or Double Life? Here you go!)
If you are looking for a guide of some Limited Life episodes to catch up on for no particular reason at all (certainly not a new season being around the corner), I've got you covered!
Now I'm not going to lie, trying to curate this list for Limited Life broke me. The mechanics of this season meant that you gained time by killing other players and in doing so it felt like 50 things were happening all at once constantly across the server. As such I haven't been able to get absolutely everything onto this list, but I did try my best to get all the important events and a wide range of perspectives!
WARNING: Incredibly long read more where I go over why I picked certain POV's and what to expect. I do so love to ramble. Spoilers ahead!
SESSION ONE
Skizz - Breaking from tradition from recommending Grian first because you need to watch Skizz's POV first out of everyone unspoiled. The way things unraveled this episode felt like a sitcom in the best and worst ways lol 
Grian - Just a good solid first episode honestly and with the start of the Bad Boys™ how can you not love it. 
Scar -  I really have no words for whatever is the dynamic of the Clockers because you really just have to see it to understand. It’s a fun episode and as Scar, Cleo and Bdubs have set up near spawn, you always get to see something interesting. 
Big B - Big B’s episodes are always a treat as he does super long ones that give you a little more insight into what's happening on the server, rather than just the big events. But if you wanted something specific to watch, his last 10 minutes of this episode were a blast. 
SESSION TWO
Joel - Bad Boys Bread Bridge was both the most amazing and ugliest build on the server and I’m so glad it was made. Also Joel gets some amazing kills this episode that are so tense to watch. 
Martyn - Look this one is here because of a little personal bias. Martyn shouts me out in the episode so I couldn’t not add it lol It’s also a very good episode in of itself in that it introduces the Mean Gills and I’ll always be a Mean Gills supporter. Also that Tilly roast? oof 
Pearl - Pearl is constantly on the move this episode and living up to her Nosy Neighbour title so watch her episode if you want some good gossip and to see the lay of the land. 
Tango - Tango always delivers a solid episode and as he was building the TIES Tower a majority of the time he receives a lot of foot traffic through the area creating some fun interactions. 
SESSION THREE
Scar - And in this episode of Limited Life, Scar rediscovers the joys of minecart TNT. 
Impulse - Impulse is such a fun boogey to watch, and the way he edited this episode around his thought process of who to kill was great. 
Grian - Kind of a different episode this session as Grian was sick so he was afk the entire time. It was very very very funny to watch, but as he wasn’t interacting with anyone you’re going to miss a lot of context if you only watch his POV. You should still give this a watch though! 
Joel - Watching poor Joel run around after Grian trying to keep him safe was incredibly entertaining lmao 
SESSION FOUR
Scott - I believe Grian said it best, but this session felt like a final session with the way the yellows were chasing after the greens. It was pure chaos the entire time and Scott beautifully evading them all until his descent into yellow was perfection. 
Tango - Tango is here for the same reason as Scott but as the last green the final hunt for him was terrifying to watch. 
Cleo - I love Cleo’s episodes and this one was just a joy. She was slightly sick this week but I feel like that only lowered her inhibitions to do some out of pocket stuff. 
Jimmy - The exciting saga of Judge Judy and Executioner continues in Jimmy’s episode this week and if you didn’t know anything about it, that's ok! Neither did anyone else on the server except for Jimmy, Pearl and Big B lmao consider this the best episode to watch if you want this plotline covered. 
SESSION FIVE 
Etho - Considering the episode starts off with Etho having to babysit Bdubs, then an awkward family dinner and an explosive game of catch, I really couldn’t have asked for a better Etho video. 
Big B - This session was a lot more calm than the previous, so there was a lot more alliance talk happening. Big B has a great perspective on all that as he and Pearl get up to a tonne of mischief that causes some problems with some alliances they already had. 
Scott - Once again this was an alliance building week and Scott’s episode really highlights some of the more fun things that happened to make and break some relationships. 
Grian - Poor Bread Bridge o7 you will be missed. Thankfully M-Rye 5 was there at the end to rain chaos from above. (<-sentences that make no sense out of context) 
SESSION SIX 
Cleo & Pearl - I couldn’t choose between either of these two this session. Both Cleo and Pearl were out sick so they handed over their accounts to two other players. I won’t spoil who they are but these episodes were amazing. 
Jimmy - The Bad Boys were going through it this week goddamn lol It never stops being funny how much of a mess everything becomes when they get together. 
Martyn - It was his birthday this session and he’s just a little guy! Surely nothing would go wrong at his birthday party? And certainly not caused by him! 
Tango - The last half of Tango’s episode is just a comical amount of deaths that only get funnier and funnier as the time between them shortens. 
SESSION SEVEN
Skizz - Oh Skizz. You are too good for this world. His ending for this episode was heartbreaking and Affirmation Station will live on in my heart forever.
Scott - I love watching Scott run around the map and hunt people down because he is so good at the game! I believe he had the highest kill count this session and I loved every minute of it. 
Joel - (Major Spoilers) Ah Joel it just wasn’t meant to be! But hearing the desperation in his voice grow higher and higher as the clock ticked down was nail biting. Scar - Just a good Scar episode honestly! Shows what the Clockers are up to during all the chaos and a great view of the server devolving into anarchy.
SESSION EIGHT 
Martyn - WOOOO YESSSS LETS GOOOOOO (<- does that count as spoilers???)
I distinctly remember being on the edge of my seat this whole episode and Martyn delivers in every way possible for a fantastic final episode of the season. 
Impulse - I haven’t mentioned it yet but Impulse’s editing this season went wild and it's none more apparent than in this episode. He and his team went crazy for the finale. 
Etho - Such a fun episode!! The twist at the end with the diamond sword coming into play was everything I could have wanted and more. 
Pearl - It was really a toss up between Pearl and Scott for this last spot, but I loved her perspective for the one last minigame on the server. 
BONUS 
Bdubs - Do you have a spare 12 hours to dedicate to Limited Life? Then oh boy does Bdubs have a video for you! Instead of weekly videos he decided to collate all his episodes into one mammoth video which was an absolute blast to watch over a weekend! It’s a really interesting POV to watch because when LimLife was airing Bdubs would just appear all over the map and we never had any idea what he was doing so it was awesome to have some concrete evidence of his shenanigans. Definitely give this one a watch if you’re in the mood for a marathon! 
IN SUMMARY…
I swear if the next season is as messy as this one, I think I’m going to have to start taking notes when it's airing because I think this took years off my life haha if you think I’ve missed anything please tag it because I would love to see it! I definitely could have added more POV’s per session like I did with the Last Life and 3rd Life guides, but I think a more curated list helps keep down the overwhelming nature of trying to watch a million Limited Life episodes. 
But really, I loved watching Limited Life live so I’m glad I give myself an excuse each new season to go back and watch the season over again. There are so many little foreshadowed moments that you don’t see on the first watch and honestly it all just makes me more excited for the new season! Thanks for reading <3
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retrobr · 9 days
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Have you seen night at the museum 4? Is it any good?
I honestly haven't seen it personally, but some of my friends have watched it, and from my observations it's not that they really liked it..
From what I know Ahkmenrah wasn't there at all, which is a big "no" to me. The whole franchise is based on the consequences of his tablet's magic, so the fact that he wasn't in NatM 4 just doesn't make sense to me. 
Plus Lancelot and Tilly weren't there as well, which, again, is very disappointing to me
Second of all, the designs of some characters are just too off to my liking; I mean, what have they done to my man Octavius?.. But I should say that Theodore Roosevelt's design was not that bad, he looks pretty similar to the original Teddy from the movies. And Jed's new design as a redhead wasn't bad either, it's very refreshing to see him with a new hair color imo
I can ramble about those things that I don't like about this movie for quite a while, so I should probably stop here before it's too late lol 💀
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blackopals-world · 1 year
Text
Shark in the Water part 1
Part 2 Part 3
OnsenOwner!femYuu x Azul Ashengrotto
Part 2 of the Onsen!Yuu series (part 1)
Azul isn't a fan of competition, especially when they steal away his best girls to work for them. He'll have to learn to share if he wants the benefits of having a business partner.
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It was a good day for business so far and the girls were drawing in a crowd. Not that Yuu was slacking or anything. Entertaining guests was something of an art and training up proper hostesses took time.
Honestly, these boys may not know much about women but even they know empty flattery and fake compliments. The Pomefiore trainees are too used to being praised rather than praising others. Some guys are into that but most aren't. The Octavinelle girls so far have exceeded expectations and their customer service skills are properly honed.
"Goldien fix your posture, " Yuu reprimanded "and Volx keep those ears turned up. If a customer sees those droopy fox ears then they might lose interest."
The firey fox strained to keep her ears perked as she continued her training.
Yuu sighed, tea serving was an art but it was lost on the trainees.
"Why does all this matter. If we are doing our job why do we have to be so stiff?" Volx asked indignantly.
Yuu narrowed her eyes at the impedance.
The fox's mind suddenly caught up with her mouth as she bowed lowly with her forehead to the floor.
"Sorry, Mistress! I didn't mean to insult you." She said meekly.
Yuu didn't give her permission to raise.
"I suppose that is a fair question. Do you think this Onsen runs on hopes and dreams? It runs on profit. The springs alone don't make enough to pay your salaries. We make money on our services and that requires labor. If you girls perform half-heartedly who would return? You need to charm them into coming back again and again. You need more than just looks. You need charm and you were chosen those unique charms. " Yuu explained but had to cut it short when one of the hostesses notified her of a guest.
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As Yuu made her way to her waiting guest she greeted customers. Each of the hostesses bowed their heads and acknowledged their Mistress.
Yuu asked one to bring her a bottle of umeshu.
Waiting in Yuu's office was none other than the Octavinelle Warden himself who was no doubt going through her things but pretending to be gazing at the decor.
"What a surprise I wasn't expecting a guest, let alone one that pretends to come alone." Yuu was no fool, Leech twins were here somewhere.
Azul shrugged, pretending to know nothing.
"Who knows, they were quite intrigued with your Onsen and wished to try it." He said taking a seat.
"Azul, you are not amusing. If you intend to intimate me its not working. If you are trying to shake down my girls I want you and your men out of my spa. If one of their hairs is out of place you have my word that this ends badly." Yuu didn't play with Azul of all people, not when the situation was dangerous.
"You have my word that they mean no harm." He said with little sincerity.
"Your word means little to me," Yuu said coldly.
There was a crash from down the hall. and girl's cry.
Yuu immediately bolted to see poor Tilly sprawled out on the floor, a bottle of umeshu shattered and Floyd standing over her.
This looked bad.
"Out! Out! All of you, out! You are banned from stepping foot on my property again!" Yuu screamed as she help the mouse girl up.
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The tweels felt a cold chill crawl up their spines after the long quiet walk back to their dorm. Azul was silent the entire time.
"So," the warden began as the doors to the lounge closed "What part of just look around don't you get? We needed information and you got the bright idea of just tripping a girl?!"
Floyd threw his hands up in surrender
"I swear she tripped on her own! It's not my fault she's clumsy." Floyd whined, for once he was innocent.
"Might I add, their boss seemed pretty upset already. Azul might have already ticked her off." Jade said
Azul sighed, either way, they could no longer investigate the hot spring themselves and the girls they sent there were tight-lipped. Leave it to Octavinelle students to look out for their best interests first.
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The next day an apology letter fell on Azul's desk. The misunderstanding was cleared up and while Yuu was willing to have another meeting it would have to be somewhere on neutral ground. Like a nice Italian restaurant in town, tonight at 8.
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persephone11110 · 11 months
Text
Operation: Protect The Kid
Brotherly Jake Seresin x Reader
Warnings:past child abuse, confrontation happens, religious guilt tactic is used against the oc, insecurity/self doubt,reader is 23—jake is 36, Jake protecting his wingman/woman idk, sprinkle of curse words, mentions of alcoholism
Summary: “I’d never thought…I was worth being protected and saved. Since I was a little girl the only two words I knew were unlovable and broken”. Tilliy sighed, placing her head on Jake’s shoulder.
ofc:Tilly Lewis/ i couldn’t think of a callsign.
AN: this is the fic from the poll, i’ve started like 3 diff fics and finished half way trying to nail a brotherly jake. I made Tilly’s and Jakes age gap bigger, even tho cannoically I feel like Jake way younger than 36, and also i feel their relationship is bro/sis whilst also being mentor/mentee— since Tilly probably graduated like year or two ago. Enjoy reading ❤️ :)
- kinda short/kinda long, idk if i like the ending
Everytime I look in the mirror, I see the little girl who gotten beaten for just breathing and teenage me getting knocked around for looking in their direction.
It was small things at first. Smackings across the face, belt marks covering her ass, soap in her mouth each and everytime her parents deemed she talked out of turn. It’s normal— Tilliy thought as a little girl, it was drilled into her head like that..not until her freshman year of college she spent thirty minutes in her dorm crying after a child abuse seminar did she realize it wasn’t.
“Matilda Patrice Lewis, you look at me when I’m talking to you”. a belt ripped across her back. “I don’t love you sweetheart, and to be honest no one ever will”.
“Don’t cheat” Hangman smirked handing her a poolstick, before he walked away to get another beer.
They noticed Tilly first, before she could even get a chance to hide. She ignored the feeling of danger lingering around her, shrugged it off as guilt from the uranium mission still in lingerin. Its been so long since Tilly had to protect herself that she forgot the feeling of hatred and anger getting closer.
“Sunday’s is for worshipping god, not for drinking with the devil Matilda”, Tilly inhaled heavily—she hoped that voice didn’t belong to her, quite honestly Tilly had long gone forgotten her mother’s voice only time she remembered it is when she’s was having a bad day. Like always her mother had a way when with commanding attention to herself, Tilly could feel her mother’s anger—it was getting thicker and thicker by the minute.
“Matilda, dear I recognize those ugly back scars from anywhere”, Yeah because you and dad put them there, Tilly so badly wanted to say but her inner conscious reminded her father was behind her mother—and he never hesitated to beat the shit out of her.
Tilly had no choice but turn around, she always did feel cowardly under her mother’s gaze.
“Oh Matilda we’ve been waiting for you come home”, her eyes glistening with the tears, her shoulders close to shaking— if only she meant it, if only her mother’s sadness and her father’s grimy face were actually sincere. Too many lessons nagged at Tilly’s face, the memories of beatings coming back at full speed. “How can we love someone so broken?”.
“Inhale and exhale.. Tilly, your parents have no control over you any more… you are free”, Doctor Mandy words echoed in her mind.
“You left us alone Matilda, we didn’t know if our daughter was okay”, her father spoke, “Do you not love us?”.
Tilly shrinks back at that, does she love them?, do they finally love her?
She feels someone step behind her, she immediately realized who it was his cologne is a dead giveaway. Hangman. Tilly slighty caught his stance out of the side of her eye, protective and angry.
“Are you okay Tilly?”, before she got a chance to speak she was cut off by her mother’s harsh words. “Matilda, her name is Matilda— Tilly is too childish for a twenty three year old woman”.
“With all do respect ma’am Tilly, Is what she wants to go by and I fully respect it”. Jake says with a fake smile, any chance too show off his teeth.
“We weren’t speaking to you boy”, her father bit out, and Tilly could see his alcohol rotted teeth, three to five packs of beer a day coming back to bite him in the ass.
“I’m Jake Seresin, Tilly’s bestfriend and wingman” Jake held up his hand, not giving either a chance to speak a word. “You two, should be proud of your daughter because despite being shitty parents, Tilly made sure she didn’t become like y’all”.
“We—”, her mother tried again.
“I’m not done”. Jake crossed his arms over his chest.“You too need to listen, Tilly owes you both nothing… she had a choice to walk away from you both and yet here she is for some damn reason hearing you too out”.
“Goodbye Matilda” her father says and her mother looks almost disappointed that Tilly didn’t fall for her trap again. They didn’t give Tilly a chance to answer, they both turn on their heel. The sound of the hard deck door closing was the best sound she’s ever heard.
“Thank you”, Tilly says and its barely above a whisper.
“No need to welcome me kiddo”, Jake drapes a arm over Tillys’s tender shoulders, easily relaxing her. ”You have my six, I have your six”.
“C’mere kiddo” Jake softly commanded, his eyes are softer than ever, “I love you Tilly”. Tilly fell into his embrace— she finally allowed herself to breakdown, the nagging pain of a little girl who had only wanted to be loved was far too much to hold back this time around.
“I’m sorry Jake”, she whispered into his chest.
“For what Tilly?”, he’s rubbing his hand up and down her back.
“For…not being brave enough to stand up for myself” a sob falls from her mouth. “Im so sorry”.
“Oh…Tilly, you’ve been brave for too long— you need to know there someone in your corner”. he pressed a kiss into Tilly’s head.
“Ok”
“Come on kid, lets go back to my place”. Lets go home.
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agendabymooner · 1 year
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colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)
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Summary:  Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?
Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.
Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY
Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx
masterlist
iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind
“Regards,
Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”
That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early. 
I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.
None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.
But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week. 
I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers. 
Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that. 
I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them. 
It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works. 
I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room. 
For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot. 
A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.
“Oh you,” I blurt out.
Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.” 
“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”
“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?” 
I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet. 
Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located. 
A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel. 
Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates. 
Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.
The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does. 
But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.
“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth. 
“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression. 
“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?” 
“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”
“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”
“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”
“Have you raced before?” 
“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”
“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”
“Gotcha.”
Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?” 
“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.” 
“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.
“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?
“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously. 
I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow. 
It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready. 
“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”
“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.” 
“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”
Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.” 
I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much. 
“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.
“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?” 
“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”
“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context. 
I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.” 
Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”
I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.” 
“Is he?” 
“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone. 
“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”
“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”
“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”
“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes. 
“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again. 
“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.
“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.” 
“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”
“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.” 
“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?” 
“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”
Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…
“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”
“Like it’s a fast lane.”
Now I can’t deny it. 
I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.
But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up. 
The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—
“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today. 
I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?” 
Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.” 
Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him. 
I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.
I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?
“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”
“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?” 
“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”
“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.
“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him. 
“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.” 
“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”
I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.” 
“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity. 
It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.
I'm such a fucking mastermind.
My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.
He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice. 
Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room. 
I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”
“Bat lair?” He chuckles.
“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.” 
“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise. 
I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?” 
“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.” 
“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?” 
“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?” 
“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips. 
“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.” 
Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.” 
“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”
Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me. 
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