#love it that she has to give more interviews now even when she hates it lol

[stupidlittlespirit]

Can you give me more examples of Alex disliking Ford? I’ve always kinda felt it, but I never really had much of a real grasp on it.

Okay so this is the part where I look crazy because I can't give you specific examples LMAO but I'll try to explain what I mean. It's more in what he doesn't say than what he does.

Alex doesn't ever come right out and state 'I hate Ford', but he implies his distaste for him through his treatment of him. The way he hasn't gone harder/more explicit on drawing lines about Ford's abuse, or talking about how Ford suffered terribly during the time he was alone, for example. The way he blames Ford inherently for a lot of stuff that Ford, while not blameless, isn't fully at fault for. It's little things, and I'll detail them below.

TW below: Abuse, discussions of victimhood and irl consequences.

He extends more sympathy to other characters whereas Ford is sort of an afterthought. I don't actually think Alex has fleshed Ford out very well in his own head. Remember when he said that he didn't even know that Bill was going to be the main villain? They were flying by the seat of their pants for a lot of the series and it's quite clear in some elements. Obviously, the series is wonderful, I love it, it's one of my favourite shows of all time and Alex is a true talent, but it's obvious which characters are more important to him. He favours Bill a lot, too, so when his disliking of Ford/being ambivalent about him meets his enjoyment of Bill, only one of those dogs is coming out of the fight alive and it ain't Ford.

I think Alex is a genuine talent, I admire his work and his writing. He seems lovely. But I do also think he lacks in skill when it comes to complex abuse depictions.

I see a running theme that he isn't very good at portraying it specifically via 'unlikeable' characters. I mentioned on a previous post that he did this with Pacifica until people expressed empathy with her, and then he decided to round her out. He stated that himself during an old interview; I can't source it but I remember it vividly because it flagged red in my head that he couldn't see she was just a product of her environment. She's a twelve year old girl, for god's sake, she isn't 'just a horrible person', it makes a person sound like Bill when they beef with kids like that lol.

Another thing is in TBoB, there's a really horrendous page where Ford is tortured. It is visceral and awful, and tbh I wish I'd have been able to ask Alex what his top 5 horror movies were when I saw his talk because the scene is very reminiscent of a lot of my fav horrors.

But anyway, it is literal torture and it is also communicating about how helpless Ford is. He's a victim and a 'weak one' at that. Nothing he can do will stop Bill's abuse, he's stupid for trying, he's pathetic, he deserves it.

Now, that is a take I see with Ford a lot. He deserves it. He's asking for it. And it's a really upsetting one. It's also a common narrative told by people who blame victims for the abuse they suffered.

Not once have I ever seen Alex defend Ford. Not once have I ever heard him say 'Ford didn't deserve this', 'Ford suffered as much as Stan'. Not once.

Considering that he said he took 'inspiration' from his friend's 'toxic' relationships (I also think this is a strange and slightly perverse thing to do btw), I would have thought he might feel more strongly about pushing away this narrative about victims deserving their treatment.

I, obviously, also don't know for sure that he did take inspo from friends; he could well be describing his own experiences and just not feel comfortable saying so because men do suffer a different kind of stigma around being abused. That's fine, he doesn't have to out himself or anything, that would be horrible. But it's just the way he reacts to fans and speaks about the victim (Ford) that makes me think he's a bit more removed from this specific experience than it being personal.

There are many types of abuse. Ford's experience is familial, relationship-wise (platonic, because nothing about his relationship with Bill is romantic in the most basic sense of the term, if anything you can liken that side of things to sexual abuse) and personal. Ford then abuses himself as a reaction to outside abuse. Not his fault, again, but it does happen and it's a common thing for victims to do. I did.

Ford does nothing but suffer.

I truly don't believe that if you loved and cared for your character, you would be willing to watch your audience tear them apart like that after they had already been through so much and were not actually a villain themselves.

Especially if you had, or knew other people who had, experience with that kind of abuse. He doesn't let it happen to Stan, he came down hard on people when they did it to Dipper, and to Mabel, too.

It would kill me to let my OCs be bastardised like that by an audience and I'd be damned if I did a disservice to victims everywhere over something like this.

I think his lack of care is displayed in his treatment of Ford, as opposed to him outright saying he doesn't like him.

I also understand that this analysis also comes from a deeply personal point of view and my own experience with this topic, too.

This is a TV show, it isn't real and I don't need to take it so seriously, but what I do take seriously is seeing the real world reactions of other people. That does hurt. It hurts to see someone who is (very inelegantly and heavy-handedly, btw) depicted as a victim of abuse be laughed at and made into a joke, or flipped on their head and made to be romanticised with their abuser just to make a ship happen.

Fiction doesn't need to be taken seriously except when the lines begin to blur over into real life. We know people are cruel to irl victims and we can see where these lines blur quite obviously.

I think abuse and uncomfortable topics should be depicted, but I also think that as a creator, if you use them, you have a HUGE responsibility to teach and guide your audience into understanding why these things are bad/what makes them so. You shouldn't make jokes about the topic or encourage other people to go off the rails with it.

You can't control people, of course you can't, but you can hold their hand a bit and show them towards the light. If they choose not to follow it then they're probably not bright enough to pick up what you're putting down and that's on them, but you have to try.

Maybe if I hadn't (and my friends and other victims hadn't) been subjected to exactly the same reaction, we wouldn't feel so strongly about this, but it really does feel like a kick in the teeth to see a large number of people behave so grotesquely about abuse.

And just as an aside: I am a victim, I have been/am an unlikeable one, but it does not mean that I deserved what I got and that goes the same for every other 'unlikeable' victim out there.

*deep breath* but other than that I'm totally normal about Ford and not at all mentally ill :)

[monsterintheballroom]

Interview under the cut :-)

Penelope Wilton: ‘The Queen Mother was an extremely clever woman’

The actress, set to take up the royal role in Backstairs Billy, reveals the sadness behind the corgis, hats and handbags

By Elizabeth Grice 29 October 2023 • 11:00am

Penelope Wilton can still travel incognito. It’s curious that half a century of exposure on stage and screen, packed with glorious parts, awards and a damehood, has not spoiled her secret satisfaction in being able to merge with the crowd. Yet the moment she opens her mouth her cover is blown. That voice! Classy, correct, crystalline and absolutely unmistakable. It could launch a thousand ships.

It gives emotional heft to the graveyard-bench confidences of Anne, the empathetic widow in Ricky Gervais’s comedy-drama After Life. It’s integral to the brittle dignity of Isobel Crawley in Downton Abbey and it vibrates with controlled passion in the 2014 play Taken at Midnight for which she won an Olivier as Irmgard, the Jewish mother confronting the Gestapo over the incarceration of her son.

Soon it will be trained on Queen Elizabeth, the late Queen Mother, and in case you might imagine that she’ll be wafting gently along on a wave of public adoration she issues a prompt corrective. 

“There’s nothing sentimental about this. The Queen Mother was an extremely clever woman – very, very quick. She could be acerbic.” 

When she refused to leave London during the Second World War, “Hitler said she was the most dangerous woman in Europe. I think she was marvellous and I hope this play makes her more Technicolor and sharp so she’s not just a pale lady in chiffon. There was nothing she didn’t find interesting.”

Backstairs Billy, by the British-Brazilian-Australian playwright Marcelo Dos Santos, is about the unconventional relationship between the Queen Mother and her loyal but wayward servant, William Tallon, who more or less ran her life for 50 years until she died in 2002 at the age of 101.

“Although we are attempting to make me look like her physically,” says Wilton, “I’m not going to be doing an impersonation of her. It’s fiction. A made-up fantasy about what their lives were like at Clarence House. We don’t know how they talk. Biographers who put thoughts into words [spoken by their subjects] are rather annoying, actually, because how would they know?”

Still, by way of research she has immersed herself in the biographies so that no detail of the Queen Mother’s dress, mannerisms, heel-height, handbag size, salmon-fishing expertise or courtly extravagance escapes her. And, being Wilton, she absorbs the central truth that the party-loving ex-queen was probably, deep down, a lonely woman, widowed at 51 and needing to find a new way of living. There are poignant scenes as well as funny ones.

“She was of her time,” says Wilton, “an Edwardian lady. She was politically incorrect. She had served her country well and went on living the life that she wanted to live.”

More than anyone else (except perhaps Queen Elizabeth II, who bailed her mother out when she overspent) “Backstairs Billy” made that possible. Tallon was the ultimate devotee, anticipating her every need, getting her breakfast, ordering the flowers, looking after the corgis, organising guests at luncheons and receptions and always over-diligently topping up the champagne. 

Above all, he was amusing. She enjoyed his gentle mockery of some of the people she met and overlooked his sexual forays. “He made her life much more entertaining,” says Wilton. “She trusted him. She enjoyed his company. He didn’t have a family because he was gay and she adored him.”

The year is 1979. Britain is crippled by strikes and riots. The action takes place in her apartment at Clarence House which has caught some of the febrile atmosphere outside the palace gates. “The country was having a sort of nervous breakdown, as indeed it is now,” says Wilton.

The play’s comic potential lies in the Queen Mother’s relationships with her friends and the behaviour of people in her presence. “People about to meet the Royal family say, ‘Oh, I don’t care,’ but actually they do,” says Wilton. “They find themselves tongue-tied. They forget to curtsy. The Queen Mother was very good at putting them at ease.”

The play was commissioned by its director Michael Grandage, whose friend the late Una Stubbs had often told him, from first-hand stories of the Clarence House court, that Tallon would be a brilliant subject for a play.

The part lured the Welsh actor Luke Evans, 44, back to the stage after 16 years in film and television (including Beauty and the Beast and the Fast & Furious films) and Wilton, 77, is coquettishly pleased to be his Queen. “In fact, I’m thinking of taking him home,” she told the BBC’s The One Show. “We all need a Billy.”

Side by side on the television sofa, they presented a delightful, teasing twosome. Wilton’s fine hair is silver these days, swept up in a large comb at the back. She has a lovely smile and a slightly challenging air of expectation.

She is still fondly remembered for the 1980s BBC sitcom Ever Decreasing Circles. She was Regan to Michael Hordern’s Lear.

Theatre is her first love. “It is the last place where language is really, really important,” she said.

“I like doing new plays because that’s the future. I like the difficulty of it. I like solving the problems. 

“My job is to put onto the stage what the writer has written, not what the director feels on Monday about the play. Somebody has bothered to write this play, use this language.”

She’s fascinated by where a character will take her. “In the theatre you go on a journey every night.” In one of her favourite Shakespeare plays, Much Ado About Nothing (in which she was an award-winning Beatrice to Michael Gambon’s Benedick in 1981), “Beatrice starts the play very scornful of Benedick and he of her. By the end they are madly in love; they have gone on a journey of self-discovery. And you take the audience with you.”

This is certainly true of Wilton and Gervais, whose characters are both bereaved, in After Life. The series had such an immediate and grateful response from the public that she was asked to become patron of The Good Grief Trust, a charity for those who have suffered loss. Wilton’s eldest sister Rosemary died of a Covid-related illness in 2021. She has much to draw on.

Wilton was born in Scarborough, the middle of three girls. Her mother Alice Travers was an actress, as was her uncle the late Bill Travers. She married two actors – first Daniel Massey who died in 1998 and then, in 1991, Ian Holm with whom she starred in Harold Pinter’s Moonlight. Holm died in 2020. Though both marriages ended in divorce, a warm connection was never broken.

With Massey, after the loss of a premature son, she had a daughter, Alice, a theatre producer. Alice, 46, and her family live close by in west London and Wilton enjoys being a big part of the lives of her grandchildren, Daniel, 11, and Ella, seven. 

She likes the freedom of living by herself in a house ever-open to family and friends. “I can do what I like. I can go to bed at half-past eight if I want and I can eat what I want, when I want.” 

After a well-paid film, such as The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel or Downton, she will buy herself a painting.

Wilton’s trend-averse way of thinking as well as of being is refreshing.

She’s vehement about social media. “I’m not interested in people knowing where I am and what I’m doing. It’s terrible that people are chosen to be in plays or films because they have a following. If you’re a wonderful actor but a rather shy person you might not have a following.

“I wouldn’t say I was shy but I’m not a great extrovert either. I’m just sort of middling.”

Predictably, the pursuit of celebrity is not on her radar either. “It’s not a world I’m interested in so I don’t know much about it. I have absolutely nothing against people doing whatever they want to do but I don’t have to be part of it.” She cherishes her privacy in the same measured way. “I don’t make a great thing of it. I just go along, you know.”

Wilton tries not to think of roles she’d like to play. “Because it’s always a disappointment. It’s a bit like wallpaper. If you try and find that something in your mind you’re never going to find it.

“So it’s best to have a look and see what’s out there. This came as a tremendous surprise: to do a new play by a new writer who is really clever. I hope we do him service.”

Grandage has no doubt. “In everything Penelope Wilton does,” he says, “she avoids sentimentality. You know you’ll get something many layers deeper than that. With the Queen Mother, she offers an insight into someone we thought we knew

[buckyalpine]

I've always had this acting AU idea where you and Bucky are co-stars in a movie/tv show and your characters are enemies. It makes people feral because you're both so crazy attractive but you just hate each other so much on screen and your story lines have you at each others throats.

Now the part I love with this idea is the press actually thinking you don't get along with him whatsoever and thinking there's drama between the cast because you're never around with them. Whenever they hang out together, literally everyone by you is there. There are so many rumors about how Bucky can't stand working with you and how the cast leaves you out. Natasha even had a thanksgiving dinner recently and the Instagram photo she posted has literally everyone present but you.

Things heat up even more when you barely update your own socials after filming wrapped up. You basically disappeared and it confirms everyone's suspicions. The only time you post here and there is when you're at home alone, doing your own thing. You're never present in any of the interviews. No one ever comments even when they're directly asked about you. There has to be drama.

It's been over a year of near radio silence and people anticipating for the release of this movie.

I love the idea of the movie premier day being full of anticipation and people buzzing over if Bucky would bring a date, if you'd even show up, wondering how you'd interact with everyone else. No one's even seen you but you're one of the main characters so you have to show-

A large black SUV rolls up.

Then Bucky steps out.

Everyone screams. He looks stunning in his all black suit, with his scruffy beard and chestnut locks. Instead of making his way down the red carpet, he stays in place waiting for someone to join him.

Confused murmurs start among the screaming.

And then.

He holds his hand out to help you out.

And everyone goes absolutely wild as you step out, seeing your very round baby bump and that ring on your finger. He makes a show of kissing you deeply before walking you down and of course the cast showers you in love and hugs as if you're all in your own little bubble.

They already knew all long. The secret, low key relationship with you and Bucky. You didn't want people to know because it would bring on so much speculation and scrutiny. When everyone bombards you both with what's going on, Bucky only answers one reporters question with a simple "I'm here with my wife"

Seriously, people can't handle it.

A few days after the reveal, Bucky, you and the rest of the cast including Sam, Steve, Nat and so many others post all the outings they had where you were actually present. The "thanks giving dinner" was actually your baby shower. So many pictures where they're holding your bump with "aunt" and "uncle" sashes tied around them. Pictures from the secret wedding. The honeymoon. The cutest pictures of Bucky cuddled up with you; wholesome intimate moments with you and him. Moments with getting mani pedis with Nat and Wanda.

No on can understand how this was all hidden so well. No one would have guessed.

Weeks later you have your babies and this time everyone posts pictures, all of them surrounding you in the hospital.

Seriously, this reveal breaks the internet in a way you'd never imagine.

[mywritersmind]

GOOD SIDE - FC43

summary : She hates him, he’s intrigued and doesn’t understand why anyone would distlike him. Franco tries to win Charles’ sister over with coffee and good racing.

listen up : no warnings!! my first franco fic <3

word count : 1067

⋆｡‧˚⋆

All eyes have been on Franco Colapinto for the past three weeks. All eyes including mine.

I watch the boy walk across the pit lane, grinning widely at his team. My arms are crossed in the ferrari garage, Charles is talking my ear off but I'm not even listening.

I miss my paddock best friend. All the boys on the grid are like my brothers, but Logan was genuinely my friend. I didn’t even go to Monza and fucked myself while boycotting because I missed my brother win.

I watch the team embrace the boy. I never realized how young he looks until now. He’s a year older than me, found that out when I was stalking his social media.

Charles noticed my stink eye and nudges me, “He’s a good kid. Don’t be mean!” I know Logan wasn’t performing well. I’m not blind.

But I can’t help but be salty for him.

“I won’t be mean.” I turn to see Alex and Franco walking towards us, I try to walk away but the hoodie for my sweatshirt is grabbed by Charles and I'm yanked backwards.

“Franco, This is my baby sister, Y/n!” Charles swings his arm around me, I roll my eyes and look back at Franco.

He’s cute and as he smiles at me I have a weird feeling that I need to make it stop. I turn to my new favorite william’s boy.

“Alex!” I smile wide and I can see my brother eyeing me already, “Nice Quali! Proud of you.”

He nods, “Appreciate it Y/n.” He glances at Franco, forcing me to say something. I give them what they want and look at him.

“Colapinto, is it?” I blink. “You’ve got an interesting driving style.”

Franco’s smile doesn’t falter. “Interesting enough to earn me P9.” My eyes narrow at him, “Nice to know you were watching me.”

I cross my arms but before I can say more, Charles interrupts me.

He laughs loudly, trying to drown out my voice, “Alright! Don't mind her, Franco, she’s been a little salty recently- well actually she’s always like this.” He shakes his head and leads the men in blue away.

Franco looks back at me as Alex starts talking rapidly, and I swear I’m hallucinating because I think he winks.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m sitting on the pit wall, Susie is talking me through all the little buttons and graphs. Even though I'm Ferrari till I die, Susie is like family and has always been there for me. I feel an unexpected tap on my shoulder which makes me whip around.

I look down to see Franco holding two cups of coffee. “Morning Mrs. Wolff!” He smiles at Susie, then me. I didn’t even know he met her. My eyebrow is already raised, “Mind if I borrow Y/n?”

Susie laughs softly, looking at him then me, “Go ahead.” I get off the chair slowly and he motions for me to take the cup.

“Charles mentioned you liked coffee.” I hesitate for a second, taking the cup. I sip it and mentally groan because I’ve been needing to get some today.

“Buying my affection already, Huh?” I glance at him as we walk down the pit lane. I'm wearing a short, flowy, white dress and a Ferrari cap, happy since it's so hot.

“Don’t be silly, This was free.” I sip my coffee to stop myself from laughing, “I do have to get on your good side somehow.”

I look away from him, “You took my best friend's seat.”

“He lost it.” When I look back at him, he’s already looking at me.

I sigh and keep walking, he catches up quickly, “So… You’re Charles’ Sister.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “You’re sherlock?”

“You’re pretty.”

I let out a dry laugh, “You’re straightforward. I’ve seen three interviews of you flirting and you haven’t even made it to your second race yet.” He laughs and it makes me feel good that I made him do that.

“What can I say? The people love me.” He shrugs and it's my turn to laugh now.

“I’m sure your media crew hates you.”

“I can confirm they definitely do.” He stops when he gets to his garage, “I don’t want you too though.”

I take a breath, “Let’s see how you do in the race and we’ll see.” I hear someone yell his name from inside the garage.

He doesn’t move, “You base all your relationships off of driving results?”

“Relationships?” I scoff as he licks his lips, “Don’t get too cocky now.”

Franco shakes his head, a curl falling into his face, “Not cocky. Just a glass half full type of guy.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I hug Oscar as he walks out of his garage at the end of the day, “You fucking rocked it.” He laughs as I pull back, “Seriously, I'm proud and you beat my brother!”

Charles practically spawns, “We all know your loyalty is not to me.” All the boys have changed and are starting to leave. Carlos disappeared after crashing on the second to last lap but all I can do is smile for Lando who got bumped up to fourth.

Speaking of, Lando joins us with Franco by his side, his mouth running per usual. Everyone starts talking and congratulating Oscar again.

I find Franco by my side, he leans in slightly, “My result good enough for you?”

I look up at the sky, “Pretty good. I hate to say it but… you did well.”

He grins, “Well enough to get your number?”

I look to my brother to make sure he isn’t listening, “You’re playing with fire here, Colapinto.”

“Burn me.” He says it so quick that I almost don’t register the look on his face. He looks at me so genuinely with those hazel eyes and speaks again, “Por Favor? s'il te plaît? Please?”

The ‘Please’s’ makes me laugh. One in Spanish, one in French, and one in English to cover all his bases, “You’re such a flirt.”

“For you.”

“Don’t lie. You flirt with everyone.” I give him a look, he pulls a slow smile.

“If you were mine I'd never look at anyone else again.” Oddly enough, I believe him.

“If I were yours?” I step closer and he nods, “Hm… If I were yours- I think we would see pigs flying.”

He just grins, “I can arrange that.”

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part one)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

author’s note hugs to @nemesyaaa for sharing the idea of singledad!zach. i couldn’t stop writing (and the one-shot hit 15k words and became a two-shot… i love slowburn…) hurt and comfort. fluff. no smut. divider credit.

content warning parental abandonment

» masterlist

Zach is sure, without a doubt, that he has already lived the best day of his life.

The moment he held Ella in his arms was when the world bloomed into a color he didn’t know existed. Nothing could ever and would ever top that feeling.

He didn’t expect that before thirty, he’d already experience the worst day of his life, too. But he’s certain he has.

He was in a fog, a bad dream he kept trying to wake himself up from. He had stepped into the guest room to see a piece of paper on Jade’s bed and he knew before he even unfolded the letter that she was gone.

He read the last line of the letter over and over again. I can’t live like this anymore. Deep down, he always feared that she would give up on them. But not like this. And not this soon.

After Ella was born, bitterness permanently etched itself into Jade’s face. To her, the baby was always a mistake and Zach stopped being someone she loved and became nothing but the man she regretfully had a child with.

She became the antithesis of the girl he fell for. The love they’d once had was replaced with a cold distance. She started sleeping in the guest room. She ate her meals alone. She left the house as much as she could.

Still, he respected that she had learned to tolerate motherhood. While she didn’t love being a stay-at-home mom, he didn’t think she hated it.

But then she left. And if she could abandon them like this, four years in, not even having it in her to look into her little girl’s eyes to say goodbye, then that tolerance had a cruel end.

That’s why now, a month after her sudden departure, Zach is sitting in his living room, fingers curling the corner of the resume belonging to the woman scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.

Dishes clatter as his mother tidies up his kitchen. Normally, he’d feel guilty and nag her to sit down. But things aren’t normal and he’ll take all the help he can get. It’s been an uphill battle trying to pick up the pieces on his own.

His family drove in a few nights ago. They offered to visit as soon as he called with the news, but he didn’t want to put Ella through too much at once, so he waited a few weeks. Once he asked them to come, they dropped everything and set out for the four-hour car ride.

Ella’s playing in the backyard with her grandpa and aunt while Connie helps Zach run interviews. His team’s managers were understanding when he asked for time off, but Zach can’t be away forever. With his training and match schedule, he needs to find a nanny.

He’d rather not introduce a new person into her life, especially this soon, but it’s unavoidable. At least with a nanny, he can control that Ella will always be in the comfort of her home. A place she knows.

Moments like these, he wishes he hadn’t been drafted to a team a state away. If he’d stayed close to his hometown, Ella would see both sets of grandparents more often and he’d have dependable childcare until he figured out how to function as a single dad.

Zach looks over his shoulder through the window, swallowing the lump in his throat when he sees his daughter running circles around her grandpa in the morning sun. The chime of the doorbell throws him out of his trance.

Soft blue eyes meet yours when the door swings open. The stranger on the other side is tall and handsome and younger than you expected, his half-smile clouded by sorrow. You introduce yourself and he offers you a firm but gentle handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Zach. Come in.”

You trail him into the large house, mind already racing with the potential of it becoming your workplace. The agency had set up the interview. You don’t know much about the client, except that he has a four-year-old daughter and that he requested a nanny who’s adaptable to a changing schedule.

After meeting Ella’s grandmother, you settle on a couch and make small talk and answer their questions. You learn that Zach is a professional soccer player and that his work can be demanding and inconsistent, but with your apartment being close by, you assure him that you’re reliable and flexible.

By the end of the interview, the idea of a nanny doesn’t make Zach nearly as uneasy as it did an hour ago. You’re kind and experienced and knowledgeable and every time you see his little girl through the window, you smile in pure endearment.

Zach likes the idea of his daughter being around someone joyful. Jade grew to be so cold that Ella learned to go to her dad whenever she wanted to feel reassured and loved. It’s comforting to imagine her growing to like you, maybe even love you, and to be met with the same warmth she’s so full of.

The rest of the interviews go fine, but Zach has always operated on gut feelings and you’re a clear winner. His mom agrees.

────୨ৎ────

After an agency rep calls to tell you that you’ve been offered a trial period, you spend five days at the house getting to know Ella while Zach shadows to answer your questions. He’s friendly and helpful, but visibly tense.

The final afternoon, you’re playing with Ella in the living room when Zach’s phone rings. Ella rushes over to his side, asking if it’s her mommy calling. You notice the nervous way his jaw clenches when he kneels to the floor.

“It’s grandma,” he tells her, holding his phone out so the camera will capture them both.

You pretend you didn’t hear Ella's question. You know nothing about her mom and you wouldn’t dare risk crossing a boundary by asking.

Soon after the call, Ella’s drawing at the dining table while you and Zach periodically glance across the room to check on her from the kitchen. He’s been teaching you how he prepares Ella’s favorite foods. He likes that you write everything down, asking him for details down to exact measurements. If he wasn’t sure that you took the happiness of his daughter seriously before, he is now.

He already told the story to his family and to Jade’s parents and to his closest friends, but that was with people he knew well. People who could comfort him. He’s not sure how to share with you that she left, but he wants to hire you, and this is something you should be aware of.

After he slides a pan into the oven, he stands to face you, towering over you as he wipes his hands with a tea towel.

“You have the job if you want it,” Zach says quietly. You smile at him appreciatively. You weren’t feeling confident, considering how on edge he’s been, but you realize it must not have been you he was nervous about.

“Thank you,” you reply. “I do.”

He nods, looking down as he leans against the kitchen island, and says, “She starts kindergarten next fall. You’d be alright with part-time hours then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Uh, you should know…” he says, turning his head to look over at his daughter, “her mom left. A little over a month ago. It was out of the blue.”

Your heart twists in pain at his words, at the agony that draws itself into his face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, staring up at his profile. Zach blinks a few times, gazing at his daughter. You press your lips together, wishing you knew what to say.

“Ella didn’t get a goodbye,” he tells you. Neither did he, not a real one, but that’s irrelevant. “I told her that her mom chose to leave and I don’t know why she made that choice, but I’m not going anywhere. If she brings it up, please say the same.”

“I will,” you reply with an understanding nod, “and only if she mentions it first.”

“Thank you,” Zach says. “I’ll be honest with you. I really don’t want someone to leave her again. You are planning on staying as long as we need you, right? Even when the hours get shorter during the school year?”

He had that same note of desperation in his voice when he asked you about your commitment to the job during the interview, too.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I understand that she needs stability right now.”

Based on the way Zach’s eyes lower, you can tell he needs stability, too. His wife not only left him, but she left him with their child. You can’t imagine the hole that it dug in his heart.

“Thanks,” he says. He takes a breath. He wasn’t strong enough not to cry when he told Ella her mom was gone and he’ll always hate himself for it, but at least he kept his tears from falling this time.

“Do you want to ask her what she thinks about it?” you offer. “I can go put away her laundry to give you some privacy.”

Zach nods in agreement. And as he expected, when he asks his daughter if she’d like for you to hang around here more often after he goes back to work, she gives him an enthusiastic yes.

You’re purposely slow with the laundry to give them time. You come back into the kitchen to see Ella happily eating a freshly baked muffin and swinging her feet, smiling up at her father as he sits next to her at the dining table.

“My daddy said you’re gonna be here every day,” she says to you with a grin, overjoyed by the news.

“Not every day,” Zach corrects her gently. “But most days.”

“Try this!” Ella exclaims, stretching her arm out towards you, the muffin in her fist. The way you happily accept the food even though it’s reduced to smushed fragments in his child’s small hand makes Zach’s heart feel a little lighter.

“That’s delicious,” you say after you take a bite, settling at the table across from them.

Zach’s still getting used to having a woman around who’s so sweet to his child. Jade would hardly ever accept Ella’s offers to share her food, telling him that saying yes to everything would only raise a spoiled child.

“My daddy’s the bestest cook,” she proudly says.

“Best,” Zach corrects. “Thank you, honey.”

“He really is,” you reply. “I don’t know how I’ll fill his shoes, but I’ll try my best.”

Ella’s face pinches in confusion as she kneels over in her booster seat to look under the table.

“I think his shoes will be too big for you,” she mumbles, pointing to your feet. You laugh, meeting Zach’s gaze, seeing the first genuine smile on his face. You didn’t know he had dimples.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed, really laughed, with someone like this. Life’s dealt him a tough hand, but you’ve given him relief.

────୨ৎ────

Zach is organized. So organized that it sort of amazes you. Not only does he give you his, and in turn, your work schedule a month in advance through a color-coded calendar, but he also provides you with a meal plan for Ella so that you don’t have to worry about making one yourself.

The first day on your own with her is perfect. She’s energetic, well-behaved, and loves to talk. Zach left for training at noon and you were surprised that he found the time to text as much as he did. You replied to his every message asking for updates, sharing what you’re doing and reassuring him that Ella’s doing okay.

He gets home an hour after Ella’s bedtime. He’s been on edge all day, worrying that all this was too much, too fast for his little girl. Maybe he should have taken more time off.

You’re finishing up loading the dishwasher when you hear his keys jingling. You turn to greet him as he paces into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was bedtime?” he asks.

“We read three books and she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep,” you tell him. “No issues.”

Zach sighs in relief. He never liked afternoon training because he missed bedtime. Ella preferred bedtime with her dad over with her mom. She preferred everything with her dad, really. But hearing that she wanted you to stay is reassuring.

“And she ate well?” he asks. He settles on one of the stools lining the kitchen counter, watching you cross the room to stand opposite him.

“Yes,” you tell him. “She was great.”

“Sorry if I was annoying with all the texts,” he says with a small, apologetic smile.

“You weren’t, but I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you want to set up cameras. I know some parents like having live video they can tune into throughout the day.” You’d already noticed the security cameras outside when you first came to the house. You understand why he’d be so protective.

Zach threads his fingers through his dirty blond hair, damp from the shower he took in the training center’s locker room.

“Alright, I was definitely annoying if you’re offering to be surveilled,” he mumbles with a chuckle.

“No,” you laugh. “Ella did get a little frustrated, though. We were playing princesses and she said princesses aren’t supposed to go on their phones this much.”

Zach breathes a laugh. You’ve only been here for six days, but he hasn’t smiled this much in a long time.

“Thank you for all your work today,” he says. “I won’t keep you any longer.” You give him a bright smile and wish him a good night before you head out.

When Zach trudges upstairs, he peeks into Ella’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up with her favorite plushie. Now that he has a semblance of normalcy back in his life, he realizes that beneath the sadness and betrayal, he feels anger.

It’s not typical of him to feel angry. But Jade set everything ablaze when she abandoned them and he’s been left in the ashes, trying to stay level-headed while he’s choking on smoke.

He knows he lost Jade’s heart long ago. She lost his, too. It’s the fact that she broke their daughter’s without any hesitation – that’s what kills him.

────୨ৎ────

Zach never takes you up on the offer to have cameras installed. He starts to let go, little by little, eventually going a full day without sending a single check-in text. It’s gratifying to know you’ve earned his trust.

Before you know it, you’ve been Ella’s nanny for two months. She’s made herself a home in your heart. The only way you’d ever leave her is if you were told to, and you can’t even imagine being fired. Zach often checks in to see if you’re happy with your job and asks if there’s anything he can do to make things better. He clearly values you and doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s mid-morning when you’re playing with Ella on the living room floor and Zach comes through the front door. She rushes to him and you smile as you watch him drop his duffle bag and happily scoop his daughter up.

He had an away game last night and flew in early. His skin is blanched, dark half-circles under his eyes, but like always, he finds energy for his daughter. You admire it about him, how she’s never too much for him.

“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen,” you tell him when he meets your gaze.

“You don’t have to–”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. Zach has already told you many times that Ella’s the only one you have to feed, but you can tell he appreciates coming home to a meal. “There were leftovers.”

“Were there?” he asks, brows quirked, an unconvinced smirk on his lips.

You shrug and laugh again. You’ve grown into a friendly level of comfort with each other and you appreciate how you can joke around with him.

Zach sits in the dining room to eat, listening to Ella tell him all about her playdate yesterday. You tidy up the living room as you overhear her chat about how her friend was showing her ballet poses and how badly she wants lessons.

You’d sent Zach a courtesy text before you fell asleep in the guest room last night: We had a great day. She had a lot of fun on the playdate. Just so you’re prepared, she’s VERY into ballet now and is going to ask you if she can get lessons. Sending some options. Then, you sent him a few links to children’s dance classes in town.

You woke up to two texts from him. The first said: Appreciate the warning and the research. Am I crazy for holding on to hope that she’ll like soccer one day? You smiled at your screen. You’d briefly talked with Zach about how Ella has no interest in the sport her father dedicated his career to.

The second text from him, sent fifteen minutes later, read: Would you be alright with taking her to 6-6:45 pm classes on Wednesdays when I can’t? The season starts next week.

You replied when you woke up: Definitely.

You enter the dining room to see Ella hanging off her dad’s shoulders while he tries to eat, continuing to rattle on about how she’d never miss a lesson and would always listen in class.

“Alright, take a breath,” he chuckles. When he tells her you found her a class at a studio uptown and that he’ll enroll her if she’s sure she can commit, she squeals in delight. She hugs Zach, then runs over to hug you, too, nearly knocking you over.

“Easy,” her dad tells her. Ella asks you to turn on the ballet music playlist you found for her yesterday and launches into twirls across the living room.

“Remember what I said,” you tell her over the music. “If you start to get dizzy, you…?”

“Sit down, I know!” she shouts. You meet Zach’s eyes, both of you wearing smiles. You can see the fatigue on his face under the bright dining room light.

“Do you want me to stay another hour so you can catch up on sleep?” you offer. “I don’t mind.”

He knows his heart shouldn’t skip when he looks at you, but it does. He can’t help it. You don’t see this as a job you clock in and out of. You’ve integrated yourself into Ella’s life, into his life, so seamlessly. He doesn’t feel like you’re an employee here. You’re a friend who goes above and beyond to help. You’re someone who his daughter adores. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out.

He looks down at his plate, embarrassed, as if you can read his mind. His head has been doing this lately, rushing into thoughts of you that are much more than professional. He shouldn’t be thinking that his daughter’s nanny is beautiful.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. “You can head home. We’ll see you soon.”

You nod and call Ella over to look at the calendar Zach made. It’s a routine with her every time you leave. She likes knowing when you’ll be back.

When Zach heads upstairs to drop his things off into his bedroom, he stops when he passes the guest room. You left the door ajar. Even though you always keep it neat, only leaving an overnight bag on the nightstand, there’s a lived in feeling, a warmth in the room that never existed before.

Once again, he has to remind himself that you’re paid to be here. But it’s hard not to like you, because even when Jade was living here, he felt alone, whereas having you around makes it hard to ignore that life doesn’t feel all that empty anymore.

────୨ৎ────

“Which one’s yours?”

You look over to the man sitting next to you on the dance studio bleachers. Young girls hop and whirl over the glossy hardwood floor in a sea of pink tutus, five minutes into their lesson.

“Oh, I’m...” You point to Ella. “Her nanny.”

Ella’s been in ballet for a few weeks now and it’s all she talks about. Zach’s schedule allows him to take her to most of her classes, but this is the second one you’ve come to and you can see just how much she enjoys it.

You make small-talk with the man and a few other parents, which makes the time pass quickly. When you get back to the house, Ella scarfs down her dinner and falls asleep during the first book you read her. You’re sitting in the living room when Zach comes home from training.

He’s nearing playoff season and he’s mentioned that he has much more practices booked in his schedule. At this point, he welcomes how you always pretend to accidentally make too much food. He doesn’t expect you to prepare meals for him, but after you’d reassured him that you don’t mind since you’re cooking anyway, he’s relieved to know he’ll have dinner waiting for him tonight.

“Hey,” you greet him from your spot on the couch. “Ballet was the best idea ever. It really tires her out. Bedtime was a breeze.”

“Right?” Zach says with a smile, pulling off his jacket. You look away to avoid gaping at his biceps under his t-shirt. You thought he was good-looking the moment you met him and getting to know him has only made him more attractive.

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d like any help with her birthday,” you offer, turning the tv off and standing up. Ella’s fifth birthday is in a month.

“I have some ideas for her party that I’d like your opinion on,” Zach tells you. “Do you want to stay for a few minutes? Or I can just text you.”

“I can stay.”

He’s relieved to hear it. He doesn’t have many moments with you alone. Usually you’re like passing ships in the night, chatting for just a couple of minutes to catch each other up about Ella before one of you leaves the house, so any window of time with you is something he welcomes. Your presence is comforting.

You sit at the kitchen island together. Zach eats as you scroll through his phone, gazing at screenshots of party ideas he saved.

“Oh, she’d love this,” you say, stopping at a photo of ballerina-themed cupcakes. He gazes at you in awe as you look down at the screen. You’re genuinely delighted at the idea of giving his little girl a perfect birthday. “Do you want to have the party here?”

“Yeah, do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks.

“Yeah. If you’re worried about decorating or cleaning up, I’d come early and stay late,” you tell him, continuing to scroll. “She deserves something big.”

He nods, swallowing down his food, too distracted to go for another bite. He can’t wrap his head around how sweet you are. You have no connection to Ella at all, but you treat her like she’s yours. Sometimes more than her own mother did.

You’ve been here for nearly four months now, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t that long, but he likes that you have such a deep sincerity to you that he can trust that you care about Ella. That you won’t leave.

You look up at him and he glances away, worried he’s been caught staring, clearing his throat.

“Do you know how many people you’re thinking of inviting?” you ask as you hand him back his phone.

Zach’s face falls as he scratches the back of his neck. You’re suddenly tense, the air of familiarity between you now thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” he says.

“Sorry,” you say, nervous you crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “Sorry. I’ve just been going back and forth on whether I should invite her grandparents. From her mom’s side, I mean.”

“That must be hard,” you empathize.

“They’ve offered to visit a few times, but Ella hated the idea. She doesn’t even want to talk to them on the phone.”

“Was she like that before?” You don’t have to spell it out for him to know what you mean by before. The topic of Ella’s mom’s abandonment has been a silent cloud hanging over both of you.

“No,” Zach says. “I think she makes the connection that they’re her mom’s parents and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her.”

His lips close into a firm line.

“Well, I admire how you respect her comfort level and let her make decisions,” you say. “Maybe you start the conversation about who to invite and mention the grandparents to gauge her reaction?”

Zach nods, trying not to let his heart get carried away with the way it pounds from your words. He’s received compliments on his parenting from his friends and family, but you see the type of father he is more than anyone else these days. He cares about your opinion and it feels good to hear you approve.

“That’s a good idea,” he says. His fork clatters against his dish and he takes a deep breath before asking what’s been spinning in his head. “I figure you’d tell me, but… she hasn’t mentioned her mom, has she?”

You shake your head no. His forehead wrinkles in concern and it sends a pang to your chest. You lean a little closer, crossing the invisible boundary between you for the first time.

“She could just be processing,” you tell him. “And it might take her a while to talk about it. But she’s okay. She’s resilient. She got it from you.”

Zach hopes that he’s not blushing, but his cheeks are burning. He’s sure you’d be able to tell, but thankfully, you look down and stand straight again, as if what you just said wasn’t one of the most significantly unforgettable things he’s ever been told.

Ella is practically a physical copy of her mother. Zach never minded. But hearing that you think his daughter inherited his adaptability, one thing he’s always prided himself on, feels good.

He wasn’t very confident that he’s been doing a great job at adjusting since Jade left and you just lifted a weight off his shoulders without even realizing it.

“Thank you,” he says. You desperately want to ask how he’s been since his wife left, but you’re afraid you’ve already crossed a line with your boss tonight and you certainly don’t want to risk doing it again.

“Sure,” you reply. “I should go. But I’ll let you know if I think of any ideas for the party. I think the ballerina theme is the way to go. This place will be so pink.”

Zach laughs, trying to ignore the way his chest hollows when you expand the distance between you, stepping away.

“Can’t wait,” he says. “Thanks for dinner.”

“There were leftovers,” you reply, even though both of you are already well aware that every time you say that, it’s not true.

────୨ৎ────

It’s only half an hour into Ella’s birthday party and you’re spent. You’re reaching for napkins from the cupboard to clean up a spill in the dining room. When you turn out of the kitchen, a girl runs past you, tripping and accidentally pouring most of her juice onto your dress.

“Sorry,” she says worryingly, eyes wide as she stares up at you.

“It’s okay,” you reply with a giggle, dabbing at the fabric with one of the napkins. “I came prepared.”

Zach just entered the room, witnessing the moment, wondering if he’s ever going to see you do anything that won’t just push him deeper into his crush on you. But once again, his head is no match for his heart when it comes to you.

He’s been trying not to lose his mind today and it’s not because of the chaotic party that’s taken over his house. It’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in a dress. While it’s appropriate for the occasion, it shows enough of your figure to make his mouth go dry.

You toss the napkin in the garbage, collect more, then start to make your way to the dining room, looking up to find Zach’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say over the noise. He realizes that your voice somehow settles his pulse and makes it race at the same time. “There might not be enough napkins in the world for this party.”

“Invite everyone she wants,” he teases, imitating the way you convinced him to go along with Ella’s idea to invite all twelve kids from her ballet class.

“I take it back,” you chuckle. When you move past him, the fresh scent of his cologne dances over you and it’s so nice that you don’t want to leave his side. But you shake away the thought and tidy up the spill, then head to the living room to mingle.

It’s better to keep your distance from Zach. You have to remind yourself of it almost every day now. You’d been spending more time together to plan Ella’s party and at this point, it’s actually frustrating how kind and funny and charming and perfect he is.

It took a few evenings of party-planning at the house, your voices low as Ella slept upstairs, to start to get to know each other outside of your job. You’ve learned little things about him, like that he’s left-handed, and that he has a sister ten years younger than him and growing up with her helped him practice parenting, and that he likes a cup of tea before bed because it relaxes him.

You also noticed that he drifts into a more timid version of himself whenever the topic of his profession comes up. You’d mentioned that Ella could eventually grow an interest in soccer, that you’d take her to one of his home games if she wanted, and he nodded with a shy smile, saying he liked the idea.

Every side of him is intriguing, and while your conversations haven’t fallen into anything too personal, you want to know more about him past the friendly distance that stands between you.

Ella quickly darts past Zach in the kitchen and he reminds her that tag is an outside game. He’s relieved that she seems happy and careless today.

He’d asked her about inviting her mom’s parents and she answered with a quiet no. He called them to tell them that this birthday would be too difficult to celebrate together and they understood, opting to send a present in the mail.

Zach is glad he took your advice. As he rounds the corner, he sees you chatting with Ella’s friend’s dad. You probably know him from ballet. Zach has spoken with him, too. He knows the man is divorced.

Jealousy swirls in his chest. He shouldn’t care about you talking to another man. Even though you’ve started to share more about your lives with each other and he’s pretty sure you’re single, you could have a boyfriend you haven’t mentioned.

Again, while he tells himself not to feel things for you, it’s so much easier said than done. He has to look away, wondering why he feels like someone who’s not even his is being taken from him.

All the stress leaves your body the minute the last attendee leaves through the front door. It was a great party, but it was exhausting.

Ella’s eating her dinner as you, Zach, and his family tackle the mess. You make conversation with her while you clean the kitchen, happy to hear her rave about what a good birthday she had.

She asks if you can cuddle her for bedtime. Zach overhears and trudges into the kitchen, crumpled decorations in his hands. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and you try to ignore the fact that the mere sight of his forearms makes your stomach go numb with butterflies.

“It’s been a long day,” he says to you quietly. “I can take bedtime.”

“I got it,” you reply. He mirrors your smile. You like that he’s not the type of parent to be bitter that his own kid prefers you sometimes. He’s just happy that Ella’s happy.

When you’re leaning back in Ella’s bed, chatting as you wait for her to doze off, her arm is draped over your body and her cheek is on your shoulder. She’s grown to be totally comfortable with you, always taking the opportunity to be affectionate.

Your eyelids are heavy as you ramble about what she’ll be doing with her grandparents and aunt in the next few days, as they’ll be staying in town for a bit. Zach gave you the next three days off since childcare will be covered.

“I heard your grandma say something about taking you to the beach tomorrow,” you tell her. “Are you excited?”

“Will you come, too?” she asks. You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head.

“I have work, remember?” you tell her. You and Zach had decided long ago that you don’t want to tell her you’re paid to be here, that your job is taking care of her. You always just refer to yourself as her dad’s friend.

“Okay,” she sighs. She lets out a big yawn. “If I tell someone my birthday wish, will it not become true anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure the rule is that you can tell one grown-up,” you play along, “and it’ll still come true.” She nuzzles in. You assume she’ll mention a gift she wanted but didn’t receive today.

“I wished that you were my mommy,” she mumbles into the dark.

Your throat tightens and your heart sinks and you hate that the sweet, innocent child clinging onto you has to carry the weight of being abandoned. You kiss the top of her head again and try not to cry.

“I love you, okay?” you tell her. She nods and squeezes you tighter and within minutes, her breathing grows deeper.

When you head downstairs, you see that almost all of the mess has been tidied up. Zach is hauling a full garbage bag to the front door, giving you a tired smile when he sees you.

“Do you need any help with–”

“Go home,” he interrupts, faking irritation. You laugh in defeat.

“Fine.” You step into the living room to say goodbye to his family, antsy to have some time to yourself so that you don’t have to force down your tears any longer.

A few seconds after the door shuts behind you, Zach remembers that he’d set aside a container of leftover treats from the party for you.

You pace down the sidewalk into the cool evening air, unlocking your car remotely, unable to stop your tears from building. When you hear Zach call your name, you quickly wipe at your eyes, realizing you’ve smudged your make-up.

“There were leftovers,” he says when you turn to look at him.

“That’s my line,” you try to joke. You take the container. “Thanks.”

He notices the shine in your eyes immediately.

“Are you alright?” Zach asks softly. You gaze up at him, heart breaking a little more at the concern in his expression.

“Just a busy day,” you tell him.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Or– yeah, but I was going to tell you later. Without the tears.” You offer a pathetic laugh to break the tension, but he’s too worried to laugh, too.

“What is it?” he asks.

You look up to Ella’s bedroom window. The first time you’d walked up to this house, you were oblivious to the fact that the two people living in it would steal your heart. You know you need to tell him what his daughter said. But you��d hoped you’d have more time to process it.

“Before bed,” you say, your voice thin, “she told me she wished I was her mom.”

It takes all the air out of Zach’s lungs. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s without words. He crosses his arms, looking down at the pavement.

“I know. It’s a lot,” you mumble. Your temples ache as more tears build up, frustrated that this is Zach and Ella’s reality. “It just makes me so sad. I don’t want to say anything bad about your ex-wife, but I don’t understand how she could just leave you two. Has she not called to check in on her? Or to wish her a happy birthday?”

Your heart starts to thrum even harder. Your words were impulsive, surprising you even though you’re the one who said them, and the fear that you just crossed a line and exposed your feelings for him rushes through you.

“No,” is all Zach is able to say. He stares at you, speechless, biting the inside of his cheek.

“When Ella said… what she said, I told her that I love her,” you say. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” he says, his tone tender. Your lips twist into a sad smile. You want to hug him. But you step back. Because he’s still your boss and you don’t want him to think you can’t remain professional. You’re already anxious and regretful that you brought up Ella’s mom.

“Thank you,” you say. “I should go. Good night.”

Zach’s dazed the rest of the evening. He watches you drive off. He goes back inside to finish cleaning up. He spends time with his parents and sister, but soon heads upstairs to sleep, too distracted to keep up conversation.

His mind keeps him awake as he lies in bed. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, watching the shadow of the trees by his window rustle in the wind. In a matter of a minute, your relationship reached a new level of vulnerability.

And now that he has time to wade through his feelings, beneath the pain he feels for Ella and what she told you, he can’t deny that his heart fluttered when you said you don’t understand how someone could leave him and his daughter. Maybe you feel the same way about him.

This is not just a crush. He’s falling for you.

────୨ৎ────

You stare at the text Zach sent you a few minutes ago as you brush your teeth the next morning.

Sorry for bothering you on your day off but Ella has asked me about 50 times (give or take) if I can ask you to come to the beach today. I told her you’re busy but you know her. No pressure but we’d all love to have you. Would count as a work day, of course.

It was already hard to keep your feelings for Zach at bay when all you can think about is his smile and his voice and the way he makes you feel more comfortable than any man ever has, but now, you’re afraid it might be awkward when you see him. You’d said something so heavy last night, then left abruptly.

Nonetheless, the love you have for Ella and the love you’re starting to have for Zach is louder than the worry you’re feeling.

You reply: Don’t count it as work. It’s how I’d like to spend my day off. When and where?

A minute later, he sends you the address and time.

It’s late morning when you text Zach that you’ve arrived at the beach. He heads to the parking lot, leaving his parents, sister, and daughter by the shoreline so that he can speak to you alone. He hates that he was too in shock to thank you last night. But it was all so much to take in.

He spots you pulling a bag out of your trunk, greeting you with a soft “hey” to not startle you. It’s so nice to know that you’re here because you want to be.

You turn to see Zach in his swim shorts, his hair wet, water droplets scattered atop his muscles. You close the trunk, hoping he didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered.

“Hey. What’d you tell Ella about the ‘work’ I had today?” you ask, trying to establish a lighthearted tone. “Did my boss let me leave early?”

“We can say that,” he says with a smile. “He sounds like a good guy.”

“He is. It’s my other boss that’s kind of a nightmare,” you joke.

Zach takes you in, squinting a bit.

“You don’t really think of me as your boss, do you?” he asks, realizing he hates the implication. It makes him feel like even thinking about you as more than a friend is deeply unethical. Like there’s a power imbalance and he’s taking advantage of it somehow.

You still for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it, but aren’t you?”

“I guess.” His brows furrow. “It just doesn’t sound right.”

“How about we say… Ella’s my boss? And yours, too, now that I think about it.”

Zach laughs, “That works for me.” He nervously crosses his arms. “Uh… before we go, I wanted to thank you for handling last night so well. I think you said exactly what she needed to hear.”

Your face drops slightly. Remembering the way Ella sounded when she told you her wish, resigned but hopeful, breaks your heart every time you think about it.

“Of course,” you say. It’s a relief that he’s not upset about anything you said. “Is she doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Being her usual self. I didn’t tell her you were coming, so she’ll be excited.” The way you smile at the idea of making her happy is something he’s grown to adore about you.

You make your way to the shoreline, and as expected, Ella squeals when she sees you, running straight for you. You crouch to hug her tightly, thrilled that you were invited today.

You sit on a line of towels with Zach and his parents and his sister while Ella explains to you what kind of sandcastle she wants to make. You make conversation with everyone over the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and eventually, you point out a small rubber ball by the cooler.

“You wanna play soccer?” you ask Ella.

“I’m not good at it,” she replies.

“You have the best coach right here,” you say, pointing to Zach. “Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can all work together to score a goal against your dad.”

Zach smiles in surprise when Ella actually agrees. You help him create a makeshift goal line with pebbles and shells as Ella kicks the ball over the sand with her grandparents and aunt. After you set up, you join Ella while Zach makes an exaggerated show of stretching.

“Is that how you always warm up?” you ask him.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he answers. Ella laughs as he dramatically stretches. By now, you can tell by the type of dad he is that he was always on the playful side.

Ella imitates his stretching, then determination flashes over her face and she darts forward to try to kick the ball past him without warning. Zach pretends to be too slow to react, reaching after the ball has already whizzed past him, and lets out a defeated groan.

He picks his daughter up as she jumps in victory, jokingly demanding she tell him when she got so good at soccer. You smile as you watch them share a moment of joy in the sun.

“Ella, would you ever want to go to one of your dad’s games?” you offer.

“Yeah!” she exclaims.

“Yeah?” Zach says. “Why don’t you say yeah whenever I ask?”

“Just take the win, Zach,” you say with a laugh. He grins, loving the way his name sounds when it comes from you.

You enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking with Zach’s family, playing with Ella, catching glances at Zach when he’s not looking. They invite you to dinner, but you politely decline, figuring you should give them time alone. You thank them for the fun and go home feeling lighter than you did when you woke up.

That evening, as Connie helps Zach clean up after dinner, she mentions how good you are for Ella. He glances down at his mom as she hands him a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.

“She really is,” Zach agrees.

“I think she’s good for you, too,” she says with a hint of a smile.

“Real subtle, Mom,” he chuckles nervously. “It’s not like that.”

“Alright,” she says with an unconvinced tone. She takes a beat. “I just need to say–”

“Of course you do,” he mumbles with an amused smirk.

“–that I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she speaks over him. “I haven’t seen you be you. But you are again, especially when she’s around. It’s just nice to see you smiling so much again. I know things have been tough for you.”

Zach’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His mom is right; things have been tough, even before Jade left. He desperately wanted companionship, to at least come home to someone he could call a friend, but Jade couldn’t give him what he needed. He hasn’t felt full of life in a long time. Not until you knocked on his door.

“I’m better now,” he says.

Connie nods, sadness filling her features as she pulls Zach in for a side-hug.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he consoles her. “Don't worry about me.”

“You’re a parent. You should know the worrying never stops.” She pulls back. “So, you’re really going to deny it? I see the way you look at her.”

Zach shakes his head with an exaggerated scoff.

“You’re relentless,” he jokes.

“You used to tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “She looks at you the same way, you know.”

“Mom.”

Connie laughs and hands him another plate. He knows that the idea of you looking at him the way he looks at you won’t leave his mind any time soon.

(part two)

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[pickingupmymercedes]

It had to be enough - Lewis Hamilton

We have all watched Lewis's interviews after Monza 24' quali. (1 & 2)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angst.

wordcount: +2K

a/n: It's possibly going to hurt to read this, and there's no real ending, just poking at an open wound. Got a few things out of my system with the bonus character.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

"Talk to me, Lewis" she said, her voice softer than she her heart clenching. "You can’t keep doing this to yourself."

The hum of the AC in Lewis's driver's room was a faint backdrop to the tension that clung to the air.

It was heavy, almost suffocating, but Y/n pushed through it because that’s what she did—she fought for him, even when he was too stubborn to accept it.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, his posture rigid, eyes trained on the floor. She could see the exhaustion in the slope of his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the material of his phone like he was holding on for dear life.

She hated seeing him like this, wrapped up in his own head, drowning in self-doubt. But what she hated more was the way he’d shut her out, like she was just another barrier he needed to protect himself from.

He didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge her words.

It was like she wasn’t even in the room, like he was retreating into that fortress he’d built around himself all year long. She took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them, but it felt like there was an abyss between them, that only grew wider.

"I know you’re upset about that quali" she continued, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice, "but this... it isn’t just about today, is it? It’s about the past years, the pressure, the team, Ferrari, Kimi... all of it."

When he finally looked up the expression in his eyes made her stomach drop. There was no anger there, no fight, just a cold, hollow emptiness that chilled her.

"There’s nothing to talk about," he said, his tone flat. "I’m just not good enough anymore. And that’s it."

"Don’t do that," she said, her voice rising despite her best efforts. "Don’t push me away, not now. I’m not going anywhere."

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Lewis's expression. She knew he was hurting, that he was struggling to cope with the weight of his own expectations.

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. It was bitter, almost mocking, and it broke something inside her.

"Well, maybe you should" he said, his gaze flicking away from her, like he couldn’t deal with what he was about to say "Leaving is exactly what you should do, before I disappoint you too."

The air left her lungs in a painful rush. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her, like she was falling with no end in sight.

Y/n had always known that Lewis was his own worst critic, that he was harder on himself than anyone else could ever be. But now... this was different.

This was him giving up, and that scared her more than anything.

"You could never disappoint me," she whispered, but the look in his eyes told her he didn’t believe her.

He looked convinced to have failed. That he’d somehow become less of a man, less of Lewis Hamilton.

"That’s not true," she said, more forcefully this time. "You’re not a disappointment, Lewis. You’re one of the greatest drivers this sport has ever seen, and no one can take that away from you."

He shook his head, that bitter smile still playing on his lips. "Maybe it’s time to accept that I’m not that driver anymore."

"You don’t get to give up on yourself like this.” she said, crossing the room in three quick strides. She knelt in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Not when you’ve still got things to do here."

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a brief moment, she saw the man she fell in love with—the fighter, the champion.

But it was fleeting, gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by that same crushing self-doubt.

"I’m tired," he admitted, and it was the first honest thing he’d said since this conversation started. "I’m so fucking tired of fighting, of trying to prove that I still belong here."

Y/n reached out, cupping his face in her hands, and he leaned into her touch like he’d been starving for it, but wouldn’t dare ask her for it.

"I know you are," she said, her voice breaking. "But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here with you."

He closed his eyes, and she could see the struggle playing out on his face, the battle between his desire to open up and the instinct to shut her out.

It had been this way all year, ever since the problems with qualifying really started to affect him. Every time he’d had a bad session, he’d withdrawn a little more, closed himself off a little tighter.

And every time, it had taken more and more to pull him back out.

She thought about how he’d opened up in the media pen "It’s something I’ve been working on," he had said earlier, his voice almost defeated. "But I should have been on the front row for sure... It’s been this way for a minute now and... I used to be so comfortable in qualifying, and it’s gone."

The words had stung, a rare admission of vulnerability in front of the cameras. But she knew it went deeper than that.

That last part haunted her, the way he’d spoken about it like it was something he’d lost forever. How he felt like he was failing, and who was terrified that the magic was gone for good.

"I can’t keep watching you tear yourself apart like this. It’s killing me, Lewis." Y/n said, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

He flinched, like her words had struck a nerve, and for the first time, she saw a crack in that armor he was building around himself.

"I’m sorry" he whispered; his voice thick with emotion.

She shook her head, tears finally spilling over as she pulled him into her arms "Don’t apologize. Just... please, just let me in."

He buried his face in her shoulder, and she could feel the stiffness slowly leaving his body, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.

She held him tighter, hoping that she could somehow take away even a fraction of the pain he was carrying.

"I’m scared," he admitted, his voice muffled against her skin. "I’m scared that I’m losing everything, that I’m not the driver I used to be. And I don’t really know how to deal with that."

She had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from crying. This was the man who’d always been her rock, the one who’d faced down every challenge with a quiet confidence that had always left her in awe.

Even the worst one.

"You’re not losing anything," she said, her voice trembling. "You’re still the same man, the same driver, the same person. And nothing—nothing—is ever going to change that."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes, and she could see the doubt still lingering there, the fear that he wasn’t enough, that he was somehow failing his team, failing himself.

"Only I’m not" he said, shaking his head. "I’m not the same, not anymore."

Y/n reached up, brushing a tear from his cheek, and she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, like he didn’t even realize he had let that tear escape.

He blinked, his gaze searching hers like he was looking for something to hold onto, something to believe in.

"I don’t know how to do this," he said, his voice cracking. "I don’t know how to keep going when I feel like everything’s about to come crashing down"

"You don’t have to know," she said taking one of his hands in hers. "You just have to trust that you’ll find your way. And I’ll be right here with you."

For a long moment, he just looked at her hand, his eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but it was enough.

It was a start.

This time he was the one who pulled her into his arms, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him afloat.

She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, rapid and unsteady, a stark contrast to the calm, composed Lewis that the world usually saw.

He was carrying all this weight, all this pain, and worst of all, he felt like he had to do it alone.

Y/n didn’t move, didn’t dare to break the fragile peace they’d found in each other’s arms.

But even in that moment of closeness, she couldn’t shake the lingering worry in the back of her mind. She knew that it would take more than just words to pull him back from that brink.

"I need you to promise me something," she said softly, her fingers brushing over the skin of his arm. "Promise me that you won’t shut me out. No matter how hard things get, no matter how lost you feel. I can’t help you if you won’t let me."

He hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might pull away again, retreat back into that shell he’d built around himself.

But then he nodded, the movement slow and deliberate, like he was making a decision he wasn’t entirely sure of.

"Okay" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll try."

It wasn’t the firm commitment she’d hoped for, but it was something. And right now, she’d take whatever she could get.

"That’s all I ask," she said, her voice soft. "Just... don’t give up on yourself. Please"

He didn’t respond, but the way he held her, the way his arms tightened around her, was answer enough. He wasn’t okay—far from it—but he was still here, still trying, and that was what mattered.

Y/n rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She closed her eyes, trying to hold onto this moment, this fragile connection they’d managed to find in the midst of all the chaos.

All that was ahead—the races, the pressure, the inevitable changes— a part of her wondered if they were ready for it. If he was ready for it. If she was.

She had to remind herself that they didn’t have to be ready, they just had to be brave to face the changes.

And that, she told herself, would be enough. It had to be enough.

The outside world thought kept waiting, with its demands and expectations. Lewis had meetings and delaying it any longer wouldn’t do him any favors.

She reluctantly loosened her hold on him, feeling the shift in the air as reality crept back in.

“Lew,” she whispered, tracing with the tip of her finger his tattoos. “You need to go. They’re waiting for you.”

He nodded, though he looked like he would rather stay there forever, hiding away from everything.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice still hoarse from their earlier conversation. “I know.”

She could tell he was still trying to pull himself together, to put on the mask he wore so well in front of others. But she also knew that mask was cracked, and it wouldn’t take much to shatter it completely.

As they headed towards the door, Lewis hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He glanced back at her.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “For being here.”

Y/n managed a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me. Just... remember what you promised, okay?”

“I will” he replied, his voice stronger this time. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before finally opening the door.

The noise of the motorhome hit them immediately—a hum that never really stopped.

Lewis squared his shoulders, his face hardening into the familiar expression of focus. He gave her one last look before stepping out into the corridor, heading towards the meeting that was already overdue.

Y/n watched him go. She knew he was far from okay, but at least now, he wasn’t completely alone in it.

Just as she was about to turn back and find a moment to herself, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Y/n.”

She turned to see Toto approaching, his expression as serious as ever, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

He stopped a few feet away from her, his gaze flicking towards the direction Lewis had gone before settling back on her.

Y/n met Toto’s gaze, feeling the weight of everything unsaid. She could see the slight furrow of his brow, the way his eyes searched hers for answers he couldn’t find on his own.

But there was more to this than concern—there was responsibility, and whether Toto acknowledged it or not, she knew he bore some of it.

“He’ll be okay” she said, her voice calm but tinged with a subtle edge. “But it’s going to take time.”

Toto nodded, the lines on his face deepening with whatever thoughts he was wrestling with. Y/n could see the questions forming behind his eyes, the unspoken doubts he held.

But she also knew that while he might care for Lewis, his role as team principal came with its own burdens, its own priorities that didn’t always align with what was best for Lewis.

“I know it’s been tough” Toto began, his tone careful, as if he were picking his words from a delicate web. “We’ve all felt the pressure this year.”

Y/n swallowed back the frustration rising in her throat. Of course, they’d all felt the pressure—this was Formula 1. But Lewis had carried more than his share, and somewhere along the line it was bound to take a toll on him.

“He’s been carrying a lot, Toto. And I don’t think anyone really saw how much until it started to break him.” she said, her words measured.

She paused, searching his face for any sign that he understood what she was trying to say. That this wasn’t just about a rough season or the weight of expectations. It was a cumulative effect of years, of being the one to shoulder hopes and criticism of an entire sport.

Toto’s expression softened, something—regret, maybe—crossing his features. But she knew better than to expect a full admission.

This was the world they lived in, where accountability was a slippery concept, buried beneath layers of strategy and performance metrics.

“Formula 1... it’s unforgiving,” she continued, her voice quieter now, more reflective. “And I know you’ve always done what you thought was best. But this time Lewis paid a higher price.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his gaze shifting momentarily to the engineering’s room before returning to hers.

“I never wanted it to come to this.” his voice was low, almost resigned.

Y/n nodded, understanding the truth behind his words. She believed him—Toto cared about Lewis.

But the reality was that intentions didn’t always align with outcomes, and somewhere along the way, the balance had tipped.

“I know” she said softly, offering him a small, weary smile. “But it did.”

The air between them was thick with everything unspoken, the understanding that while Lewis would be okay, it would come at a cost. And that cost was one that had been paid, in part, by the very person that had built the platform the team now stood in, a team that had once been his greatest strength.

“I should go” Y/n added after a moment, glancing in the direction Lewis was.

Toto nodded again, this time more firmly. “Thank you, Y/n. For being there for him.”

She didn’t respond, only gave a brief nod before turning to leave. A reminder of just how delicate the balance was between personal and professional in this world.

And how, no matter how much she wished otherwise, there were some battles Lewis would have to fight on his own.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[pha55ed]

Song Abt Your Break-Up || Formula 1/2

type :: angst tw/cw :: none contains :: lando, oscar, ollie, kimi, paul, summary :: singer!reader make a song about their ex and your fans go crazy - for the better or for the worse. you hope their pr team can fix their reputation... f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Lando Norris | 04 "happier than ever" - billie eilish || fc : gracie abram

yourusername : happier than ever out now! filming was a blast despite the many tears :") thank you for all of the love on this song - hope you enjoy it!!! <3

ㅤㅤ→ user 01: LANDO WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!! LANDO WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU!!!! OH MY GOD 📢📢📢

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 02: BRING ME WITH YOU!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 03: guys (y/n) said to not bring any hate to him! she said in an interview that they're cool now!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 04: did you... even listen... to the song....? obv she's lying - she wants the mans balls cut off

ㅤㅤ→ user 05: "you call me again, drunk in your Benz - you scared me to death" OH MY GOSH??? Lando is literally fucking evil who tf does that. Revoke his F1 seat bruh, that shit is so irresponsible

ㅤㅤ→ user 06: everything about this is so perfect omfg, the sadness, the anger, the exposing?!?!?!

ㅤㅤ→ user 07: this is literally giving me flashbacks to my toxic ex, i'm glad she got out

You and Lando were the new "it" couple for F1 for a long time, almost two years of being the top couple. But that was quickly ruined when you both cut each other off after a huge nasty fight. Everyone was speculating on why you both broke up, even stalking you to your house to ask questions.

So you decided to just make a song, a song with all the answers that those big nosed reporters wanted. And holy shit, the crowd ate it up. The song was just supposed to be a hidden song on Spotify, but it got over 200 million streams, getting you awards and so much recognition. You even got a brand deal with Lego, which was a bit random but who would say no to that???

As you arrived at Lego's headquarters to discuss plans with the company - you ran into someone you knew way too well. Lando Norris. You completely forgot that one of McLaren's newest sponsers was also Lego... Did Lego fucking set you up???

But that didn't matter. Because now you were trapped in the awkwardest elevator ride with your ex, the man who once made cry from laughing so hard who is also the man who made you cry for days after ghosting you for a week to party in Miami after his win, doing only God knows what.

You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, you were hoping he would take the stairs to respect your space - but he didn't. The silence was driving you crazy, and what's even crazier is that Lego's headquarters is fucking 45 floors and you were only on the 3rd floor after 2 minutes.

"(Y/N)", Lando said quietly, as if he was trying to not break you. You didn't move your head or body to face him, only your eyes. "Uh,"

It was as if he collapsed from your glance alone. As if the guilt from losing someone as amazing as you finally hit him as he looked at you. You were no longer his, no longer giving him a soft glance with your gentle smile.

From one simple glance at him, you shattered his harden facade - just like you always do. The tears welled up in his eyes, his jaw slightly shivered from the nervousness he had. But he did his best to keep his composure as he stared back into your cold eyes.

Oscar Piastri | 81 "i wish i hated you" - ariana grande || fc : idk :(

yourusername : the most intimate mv filmed - but it was so worth it <3 thank you for all of the love on the song and an even bigger thanks to my besties who helped me get through filming haha :")

ㅤㅤ→ user 01: i know she said she could never hate him but I CAN!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 02: girl she literally has no hate for that man,,, they ended on good terms

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 03: oscar even said he listened to the song recently and said he liked it, but his fav is "bye"?!!!??!?!! like bro he's making a joke out of it

ㅤㅤ→ user 04: oscar pulled a baddie, broke her heart, and she doesn't even hate him??? his rizz is fucking insane

ㅤㅤ→ user 05: her VOICE CRACK IN THE SONG!??!?!?! (Y/N) I WILL LITERALLY JUMP OFF THIS BUILDING

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ yourusername: pls dont omg 😭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 05: yes ma'm!!! 🫡

Oscar and you didn't end on bad terms, just simply were getting pulled in different directions. Your music career was blowing up and work slowly consumed your whole life. Same goes with Oscar, as he was pushing himself to his limit just to try and get his first win. Which he did recently, you couldn't help but smile and like his post. Although your break up was heart-breaking for the both of you, you couldn't lie and say he was a bad boyfriend.

You were getting ready to head out for your first show of your world tour. Of course, you had to start in Australia, your home town and also the home of most of your fans. It was a huge stadium, packed to the brim that you were questioning the legality of having this many people in one spot.

But somehow, despite the thousands of people in the crowd, you made eye contact with a stupid boy with a stupid smile and stupid bright orange outfit... Oscar, he came to your first show while still in his ugly McLaren polo and jeans outfit, it was painfully obvious that he got an instant flight here just to watch you.

Despite him wearing the outfit you hated so much, you couldn't help but smile at him. His attendance meant so much to you. What meant even more to you was the fact that he was holding up a small poster, perfect size to not block anyone's view:

"Play "i wish i hated you." I need an ego boost"

Of fucking course he couldn't be serious for a second. Your smile only grew as you chuckled at the sign, you couldn't say no to his request after he put in the effort to make a whole poster , even if the poster looked like shit.

Ollie Bearman | 03 "second best" - laufey || fc : marissa long

yourusername : lots of therapy needed to make this song... but it's finally done! second best is out and i hope it becomes you're first choice! (something i never was)

ㅤㅤ→ user 01: praying to fucking god that this isn't about ollie PLEASEEEE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 02: i think it is, sadly :( they both unfollowed each other and haven't been seen in public since last month...

ㅤㅤ→ user 03: "kissed me with somebody else in mind" OLLIE HOW COULD YOU?!?!??!?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 04: even crazier is "you swung me around in that midsummer dance, held me in close as you thought of your past." cause that's fucking VILEEE to do to a girl

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 05: literally!!! looking back at old photos of them, she seemed so deeply in love while he just looked spaced out :((

ㅤㅤ→ user 06: (y/n) is better than me cause i would have spilled gasoline on his car during a race

Turns out those 8 months with Ollie were for nothing. Those sunsets in his arms, cold nights in his jacket, and those kisses in the rain meant nothing to him. He did his best to hide it, but you always had a feeling deep down that he wasn't fully committed to you. You just ignored it to keep him longer.

But you couldn't ignore it forever, so you let your curiosity loose as you looked through his phone while he was sleeping. It was wrong to do, but what's even more wrong is for Ollie to spam his ex with over 300+ messages within a span of 6 months begging for a chance with her... So basically throughout your entire relationship, he was missing her.

Fucking 6 months, of Ollie texting, calling, even emailing her, for another chance. Love letters upon love letters proclaiming that you mean NOTHING to him and it's just to distract him from how much he misses her. That he only picked you because you looked like his ex, that you sounded like her, that you would never ever replace the hole that she left in Ollie's heart.

It was insane how much of a poet he was with her and yet you couldn't even get a kiss in public.

But his ex never responded to any of his messages, the last time she checked his messages was about 10 months ago, the exact time they broke up. You're pretty sure she blocked him and he's just messaging a brick wall. But that doesn't matter at all. His words hit you like a train at 200 mph, crushing your heart into a million pieces.

You broke up on the spot, never seeing him again since that day. But he can't say the same. If anything, it's like you haunted his phone. You were constantly on the radio, his for you page, on billboards, God he couldn't escape his guilt even if he tried.

Your song didn't help his regret at all. Now that the fans had a glimpse into the cause of your break up, Ollie was receiving huge amounts of hate every single day, even during interviews with fully grown adults. One time a reporter straight up asked him if he was going to make a diss track on you? Why the fuck would he do that??? That's besides the point, the point is: everyone knew about this drama, no matter their age, job, or interest.

Once again, Ollie went to his favorite restaurant in Italy. Well, actually it was your favorite restaurant, you showed it to him and ever since then, he's never found a place with better pasta. It's ironic since the restaurant he doubted so heavily but ended up loving and never leaving - was the same exact story he had about you...

Although he would beg for his ex for months on end, the second you left he felt the biggest regret and guilt he's ever had. His ex completely left his mind, despite the fact that she finally unblocked him and was texting him back for once. He couldn't give two shits, because he realized what he lost, you.

He spent hours every single day beating himself up for losing you. Hours in the gym to try and run from his problems, but he couldn't because everything led back to you. His favorite pair of shorts that you gifted him, the small sticker on his headphones you placed, the little stuffed animal you both got at a carnival together - God he didn't want you back, he NEEDED you back.

Ever since you left, he was a completely different person. His racing skills dropped, he crashed more than ever, and yet he couldn't even seem to focus since his mind could only think of you. So as he sat in his seat, waiting for his pasta, he glanced around the room to see the back of your head.

It's just a head of hair, is what an outsider would say, but to him, it was your shiny hair that was so easy for his fingers to comb through. How could he ever forget what you looked like. You were all he thought about, after all.

As if his body moved on his own, he stood up from his seat and walked over to you. His mind completely blank on what to say, despite his body being so eager to meet you.

Before he knew it, he was standing right before you. His eyes wide as he looked down at you, his breathe unsteady from nerves, and his hands shaking from how scared he was. Now he was stuck in front you, awkwardly staring at you as if he was hoping for words to magically come out about how sorry he is.

Kimi Antonelli | 04 "two slow dancers" - mitski || fc : rebecca armstrong

yourusername : two slow dancers out now! one of the hardest songs i've ever wrote but i hope you all love it <3

ㅤㅤ→ user 01: literally gonna rip off my skin why would you make this right when i broke up with my boyfriend

ㅤㅤ→ user 02: "it's funny how you always remember, and we've both done it all a hundred times before, it's funny how i still forgot"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 03: STOP I'M GONNA CRY OMFG

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 02: "to think that we could stay the same, but we're two slow dancers, last ones out." IM THROWING UPPP AHHHHH

ㅤㅤ→ user 03: i can't even hate kimi since the song is so fucking good likeeee

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 04: REAL!!!!! the fact he hurt (y/n) to THIS DEGREE??? to make this master piece is both a blessing and curse

ㅤㅤ→ user 05: (y/n) needs to put her fucking pen down... i can't take it anymore....

Kimi and you broke up on rough terms, but not in the usual "rough" way. Instead of any cheating, fighting, or pain: it was a gradual change within both of you. As he grew, his passion for racing only flourished even more and now he even has a chance at being in F1 next year. Meanwhile, you were still trying to make it big as a musician while struggling in college. The distance between you two grew not only in milage, but also romantically.

You both agreed to split: allowing both of you to grow in your careers fully without having to feel the guilt and pressure of a relationship that was no longer filled with love. It was gut-wrenching, to say the least, to say goodbye to Kimi for the last time for good before you left for college and he left for Italy to train.

The song you made blew up, with millions of people posting about how the relate to it, cried to it, and screamed to it. This was your huge break through song, which only made the rest of the songs on your album a massive hit. You were the brand new rising star of the year, and you were overjoyed.

You were invited to Italy to do a brand deal with Miu Miu, a huge honor and amazing deal. As you wiped the sweat off your hands and let your makeup artist put some light powder on your face, you walked out onto the small stage to do your interview.

But the second you step foot on stage, you couldn't help but make eye contact with someone too familiar: Kimi.

As if time froze, you could feel your smile drop as your heart sunk. Although you knew the break up was for the best, you could never lie and say that you didn't miss him. That you didn't miss his bad jokes, his curly hair in your lap as he slept, his sweet encouragement as you showed him your new songs.

Your eyes stayed stuck on him despite moving towards the seats, that suddenly seemed as if they were a mile away. His eyes stared back into yours, as if he was able to read the hidden affection and small hint of regret of your break up. But Kimi wasn't any different, his face and body said the same exact thing, but in a more forward way.

It was as if his eyes were screaming, "I miss you." a thousand times into your head. As if he was begging you for a chance of redemption, as if he waited 6 months purely to see you in person just to tell you that he still loves you. That he still needs you by his side, and he always will.

Paul Aron | 17 "logical" - olivia rodrigo || fc : _jannah on ig (she's stunning omfg)

yourusername : filming logical is done! mv is coming soon >:) thank you for all of the love for this song. i didn't think so many of you would relate,,, i hope you're all okay <3 connecting with you all has been so healing

ㅤㅤ→ user 01: literally a child of divorce rn... i can't believe paul and her broke up :(

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 02: it's not confirmed for sure if they're broken up though!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 03: (y/n) def wrote this about him,,, "february sky" paul's bday is in february, "i'm sure that girl is really your friend" hinting at his childhood bsf who lowkey ruined their relationship, she's even filming in the desert because she wanted it to be the exact opposite of who she wrote it about - and paul is from the snowy regions of estonia...

ㅤㅤ→ user 04: PAUL ARON BETTER SLEEP WITH HIS EYES OPEN.

ㅤㅤ→ user 05: l'VE SCREAMED THIS IN MY CAR NONSTOP I CANT WAIT FOR THE MV OMGGGG

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 06: "ARGUEMENTS YOU HELD OVER MY HEAD!!! BROUGHT UP THE GIRLS YOU COULD HAVE INSTEAD!!!" 🗣️🎤😭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ user 05: "SAID I WAS TOO YOUNG, I WAS TOO SOFT!!!! CAN'T TAKE A JOKE!!!! CAN'T GET YOU OFFFFFF!!!!!!" 🗣️🗣️🎤🎤💔

You always knew deep down that Paul wasn't ready to settle down. He even told you himself while drunk once, but you ignored it just to keep him around for longer. But eventually, he started to feel stuck - his fear of commitment becoming too strong. He started to talk to other girls, not fully cheating but setting them up to be a rebound if he were to ever break up with you.

And the idea of breaking up wasn't far fetched, since it happened almost every week. You two got into arguments over almost everything, ending up with you in tears and Paul storming out while you sobbed alone. But, only God knows how, you two always managed to patch it up just enough to ignore the issues and act normal again.

But it was draining both of you - mainly you. Paul was good at hiding his emotions, pushing them down and ignoring them for months. You, on the other hand, were more emotional and aware of the subtle resentment you both held for each other.

As months progressed, you made a pros and cons list for him... Your relationship was doomed the second you even thought of that. When you made that list, it seemed as if the cons never ended while the pros could barely even start.

Paul planning his future rebounds, his extremely close girl best friend who never treated you kindly, him hiding you from him family, him not wanting to visit you after his races, him ghosting you for days because he "needed space" despite the fact that you would leave voice memos of you barely able to breathe because of how depressed you were - and so so SO many more.

You ended the relationship, which was extremely hard on your part. Especially since you were the one trying so hard to keep the relationship afloat. But, you never felt so free since the break up. It was as if a ship-load of issues and fear were lifted off your shoulders, you were able to geniunely smile and laugh for the first time in ages. You took care of your hair and makeup again for once, your fashion upgraded massively too.

Although you only broke up about a month ago, you already had so many changes in your lifestyle and yourself that you barely even thought about Paul - unless it was late at night when your depressing thoughts came out. But you always slept those away, ignoring them and suppressing them, something you just learned how to do.

You made "Logical" while dating Paul, you only got the guts to post it after about a month after the break up. Since then, "Logical" was EVERYWHERE. So many people could relate to it, which concerned you, but you were happy to help a community of heartbroken people. But, while your community was flourishing - Paul's was the opposite.

People were wondering how he could fumble someone as talented and gorgeous as you. Everyone knew Paul was cold and apathetic at times, but so many clips arose of him flat out ignoring out. Even worse, a paparazzi released a super old photo of you and Paul arguing in public, with you crying while Paul stormed off like usual.

The hate he was receiving was so extreme that his entire PR team was on fire - making him go on a month long break to try and hope that the internet just forgets about him. It was slightly working, but the hype behind the song was still too high to let Paul come back to film any videos or do interviews.

All of the hate started to crack down on him, making him finally open his eyes and realize how awful of a boyfriend he was. So, he decided to make the first step in improving himself: reaching out to you.

When you saw his number in your phone, your heart sank. A single notification crushed your entire day, making panic rush through you like a broken dam. But, you were able to open it.

When you opened it, you were met with a huge text, a text so long that it could classify as a dictionary. It went on and on and on, about his regrets for hurting you, how he was such a dickhead, how he knows you most likely will never forgive him, and how he loved your song...

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[ihopeiexplode]

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna x Supermodel!Reader

. Mixed of 2 requests!

. A/N: wrote this in class filled w sukuna haters 😞😞 (also I might be flopping chat!!)

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who met you before your modeling career started, but you met him when he was already a trending streamer but of course your relationship was kept private under your request

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who's an attractive man, no surprise in that, did half of his followers only follow him because of his looks and voice? Yeah.. hundred percent...

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who gets away with saying the most unhinged and outrageous things on stream just because of his good looks..

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna whose female audience became devastated after they heard he was taken, but do they know he's dating a famous supermodel? Nope, does he want them to know? Yes, but can he tell them? In his dreams

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna whos surprisingly into reading theories everyone made when he revealed he was dating, seeing how they gathered up every female he interacted with and tried seeing which of them had the most chemistry, he laughed when they all came to the conclusion he was dating uraume

(yes I'm aware uraumes gender is not confirmed but let's just say they're female here!!)

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who revealed he was dating you by accident, totally!!

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who called you into his room one morning, but you were unaware he was live, you know his schedule on when he's going live so your relationship with him could be avoided from being revealed

"You called?"

"Mhm, just wanted a little kiss,"

"... Are you live right now...?"

"Hm? Oh, whoops,"

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who felt like a proud idiot when word got around saying a supermodel was dating him, I mean it was only 5 Minutes after the big reveal he was dating you and word immediately got out that Sukuna was the mystery person you were dating and you were his

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who laughs at the "he's only dating her for her money!!" Comments, you both dated before your modeling career, plus he's also rich he has no need to go after your money, not to mention he doesn't even let you spend a dime of your money and insists you should spend his instead....

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who secretly watches edits of you on tiktok and has a whole collection of all the edits he found of you

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who also has a separate collection for every edit he finds of both you,

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who absolutely hates it whenever A guy hits you right in front of him. Sure it's known you're taken by him but does it stop the flirting and stares? On his side yes, but on your side? No, no it does not.

"I must say you rather look gorgeous this evening ms I/n"

"she's taken."

"Hm? I'm aware she is,"

"do I need to—"

"Sukuna enough, were in public..."

"I really don't know what you see in him ms l/n you could do so much better, like me for example,"

"nevermind, Sukuna go."

Woah I wonder how the guy ended up in the hospital the very next day!!! I wonder who caused that!!

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who loves it whenever a girl tries hitting on him only to run away and apologize the moment they see you approach him and give him a kiss

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who also loves it whenever you bring him up during one of your interviews

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who always has to mention you at least more than once during his streams or just mentioning you in general

"you look handsome"

"yeah I know my girlfriend told me that earlier this morning, only her opinions matter to me by the way"

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who acts like a lovesick puppy whenever he's with you, surprising everyone who sees your photos with him on your Instagram seeing how Sukuna is known and theorized to be the dominant one in a relationship if it ever came to that (the theory was made before ur relationship w him was revealed), but it seems to be the complete opposite in your photos...

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

Permanent Taglist: @cadibearrr

[sscieloz]

Our messy lives

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: Aespa is now one of the most successful bands of the country. You refuse to let them go, but it’s time to move on with your life.

Warnings: lots of plot, lots of lore and a little bit of smut as alwaysss babies. band aespa. only a tiny bit of angst don’t worry it’s barely there. angsty ig.

Word count: 8.3k

Notes: I’m being very serious when i say i hated this. omg it’s so bad I might delete it and change everything.HOWEVER now I’ll eat the yummy dinner nana made me and chill under the covers. Then we’ll see.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

It was no surprise that Aespa’s success erupted quickly. After winning The Box’s contest, not only were the girls offered a contract with SM Music Ent.— the country’s #1 music company, but they’ve also been labeled as South Korea’s rising superstars. Their faces were all over stores, brands, and buildings. Fooling around after perfomances wasn’t even an option anymore, with the crowd that had started following their every step.

Aespa’s first album, Whiplash was a true hit; people loved the group’s authenticity, their enthusiastic lyrics, and self-produced songs. They embraced the girls’ journey and their desire to make music despite the outcome or the feedback. More than that: the public loved how brutally honest they were, whether it was in interviews, public appearances or through the melody that now echoed through every device in the country.

Two years and 2 albums went by, and the band’s success only grew. They won Rookie Group of the Year and have only been escalating ever since. Such success has made them cocky, as self-entitled as they were talented.

And talent was not something they lacked by any means.

“Excuse me, Aespa sunbaenim…” Karina, Minjeong, Aeri and Ningning all turn their heads at the same time to look at the tanned girl who stands awkwardly by the door. She bows extensively, with a bright smile adorning her face before adding. “I’m looking for Y/n? She told me to wait for her here.”

With kind, almond eyes and a little mole under her right eye, Saerom’s inviting nature is unmistakable. Although the girls are nearly sure they’d be able to recognize her without even looking at her, anyway.

They despise her.

“Y/n?” Minjeong is the first to ask, looking around with a frown. Her theatric movements are filled with mockery, but Saerom pays her no mind. If anything, she simply waits for her answer, as if the girls weren’t being anything but hostile to her. “Do you see her anywhere? News—”

“She went to the parking lot to take a private call.” Karina’s hand muffles Minjeong’s mouth, preventing the blonde from giving the poor girl a nasty response. “She told us to warn you about the change of plans. You should meet her there, instead.”

Saerom’s face lights up at the leader’s response, moving her arms around in awkward motions. Not having to deal with Minjeong is a relief— the blonde is so rude all the time, with her micro-aggressions hidden behind her bored expressions.

“I’ll wait for Y/n-ssi there, then.” Saerom bows to the girls, with a firm grip on the door handle. “Thank you for the message, sunbaenim.”

Ningning waits for Saerom to leave before clicking her tongue.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t rain, otherwise this poor girl will be sick.” She turns to Minjeong and to Karina, then, her tone patronizing even though she giggles. “You’re so mean, both of you.”

“I’m not mean!” Minjeong complains, caressing Giselle’s arms when the rapper hugs her from behind. “Those are private quarters. Y/n shouldn’t have sent her little plaything here.”

Ever since The Box, you and Saerom have developed a tight-knit friendship. The idol had reached out to you a few days after the festival, inviting you out for a walk in the park. You accepted the invite, thinking she’d ask for you to become her band’s fansite or something similar, but Saerom had surprised you— as always. The two of you ended up chatting for hours, and you found yourself sharing every single one of your life’s events to her: it was just so new and refreshing, to talk about yourself for once. Not mentioning Karina, Ningning, and Giselle felt strange somehow, but it was also freeing to be noticed, seen by someone like Saerom saw you. Her genuine interest left you in awe, and it rebuilt your self-esteem in ways you did not even know you needed.

Saerom understood you in more ways than one: despite your different lifestyles, you shared the same insecurities and uncertainties. Saerom, not knowing if her company would keep supporting their group or if she should just give up on the dream she worked so hard for, and yourself, who still felt lost and had no idea of what life would be like, once you were done with university.

The two of you were so different, yet so alike: you were lousy, stubborn, and defiant, while Saerom was the purest, kindest human being on earth. She inspired you to be a better person every day, and not once did she disregard your feelings or try to change your personality. If anything, the thing you loved the most was to hear her melodious laugh, whenever you made a mean, whacky comment without much further thinking. You were more than glad to have her in your life. She was an escape from your chaotic routine, someone you held close to your heart.

So it was only natural you’d answer her call, even if you were in the middle of the crowd, recording Aespa’s performance, long after her conversation with the girls.

“Hi, Y/n.” The voice on the other line sounded strained, but you’d recognize Saerom’s angelic tone regardless of the setbacks. “Are you going to take much longer to get here? It’s pouring, and I’ll have to go get ready for my group’s recording soon.”

She’s always considerate of your feelings even though you have no idea of what she’s talking about. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to understand her words alone, given your proximity to the stage. Winter’s vibrant bass solo isn’t of much help either, and you bend your body forward to protect your ears from the noise in hopes it’d help you focus more on Saerom.

Although you swear the music gets louder as soon as you take your eyes off the four girls on stage.

“Saerom unnie? What are you talking about?” You tap your right ear, but it does nothing to ease the energetic chorus of Kill it, Aespa’s latest single.

Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning are currently performing their third song of their setlist, and you’ve managed to get pretty good recordings from the previous nights, so you allow yourself to redirect your focus to your friend, who awaits on the other side of the line.

“I’m waiting for you as we planned, remember? Karina sunbaenim told me you’d be in the parking lot, so I’m here. Are you at the show? It’s too noisy, I can barely hear you.” Poor Saerom is as lost as you, and the thought of her waiting for you under pouring rain is enough for your heart to shrink with unease.

“Right, of course. Can’t believe I forgot about that. I’m so sorry, Saesae. Give me 5 minutes and I’ll meet you there, ok? I’m on my way right now.”

“Sweet!”

You’re quick to collect your camera set up, hurrying to not let your friend wait any longer. The song’s nearly over anyway, but Aespa’s repertoire for the night would still linger for at least another hour— not that you minded. You were writhing with annoyance. It was hard to grasp that Karina, out of all of the girls, would act this childishly towards Saerom.

Sure, the girls have always been crystal clear regarding their feelings about the fellow idol, but you’d never imagine Karina would send your friend to wait for you alone, under pouring rain. That was typical of Minjeong— perhaps even something expected of Ning or Giselle, but you thought better of the band’s leader.

Now you had to miss nearly half of their performance, and it was all their fault.

Those girls kept testing out your nerves.

Four pairs of eyes attentively watch you make your way over the crowd. Their stares burn on your back, yet you refuse to give in. You don’t turn to get a hold of their expressions; you’ve been around long enough to know exactly how they react when something pisses them off.

Giselle, Karina, Ningning, and Minjeong don’t stare at themselves in confusion, as they normally would if something was off. They know where you’re going, and the implication was clear: you had chosen that little friend of yours over them.

Rejection was not something the girls from Aespa took lightly. You’d pay for that, both of you.

—

“Hey.” Saerom looks up to you, smiling brightly despite waiting for more than an hour.

Thankfully, she was wearing a thick jacket and sat on a bench, protected from the rain that refused to fade.

Occupying the seat next to her, you tell her sincerely, “Sorry to leave you waiting for so long.”

The umbrella you’ve gotten for her is placed on your feet, and you turn to face her completely. She looks comfortable, pretty as ever despite the weather and the shitty circumstances you had submitted her under. Saerom was a smart girl, and had probably already figured the girls told her a white lie to get rid of her presence quickly.

Despite that, your lips were sealed. You’d be caught dead before blaming Aeri, Minjeong, Karina, or Ningning, a fact they were blissfully aware. It’s why they were so confident on messing with Saerom, after all.

“They didn’t even tell you about me, did they?” Is all she asks, brushing off your apologies with a faint shrug.

Saerom brings her legs close to her chest, hugging her shoulders and staring at you attentively. A deep sigh leaves her chest after you shake your head. She thinks you’re too good for the girls. It’s an argument you’ve gone through lots of times, by now.

But you’re not. Saerom should have noticed that, by now. You’re just as rotten.

Tenderness clouds her mind, making her unable to notice any of your flaws.

It was no wonder there was only one other band the girls were friends with. Although Saerom was frequently picked on and scrutinized by the members simply for being your friend, the girls’ behavior didn’t change much when interacting with other idols. The industry was tough and demanding, of course, but they managed to fit right in.

You try to lighten up the subject, brushing Saerom’s black hair from her face. “Yeah, I’m really sorry for that. How can I make it up to you? You could sleep over, so we’ll catch up more.” Your words are sincere. Even though Fromis9’s schedule is much less demanding than Aespa’s, you’re still unable to see her as much as you wish to. The girls keep you busy 24/7, so full of tasks and demands you barely have enough time for other things. “I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

“It’s alright, Y/nnie.” Saerom holds you close, hugging you with a strength that reminds you once again of how strong she is, despite her small frame. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you doing? You barely talk about yourself, and the girls make sure to have you all to themselves, as always.”

Bitterness drips from her last words, and you ignore rather easily. You love your friend, and you’re grateful to have her in your life, but she’ll always come second to Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Ningning. It’s the natural order of things.

Even if your relationship is a bit blurry, at the moment.

Opening up is still something hard for you, despite Saerom being nothing but a supportive, attentive friend.

“I’m okay, really.” The words come out of your mouth automatically, and you’re met with a knowing look from Saerom. “I swear! I am. The routine is kicking, of course, but I’m pushing through.”

It’s been harder to balance keeping up with the band and your studies at university, now that it was your last semester, but you were making it work. You’ve always managed to do both, somehow, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Although you were starting to feel the exhaustion hit, now that promotion season was starting. Shootings were always done early, and you often had to stay up until late hours of the night completing the missing assignments and mandatory work your past self had pushed to be done when you were close to graduating.

Saerom knows better. She’s always been able to read you so easily. Leaning forward, she caresses your cheek with a tenderness you’ve only known through her soft, loving touches.

“I know you can handle it. You’re a tough girl.” She murmurs, so close you can’t focus on anything but her rosy lips, and the way they glisten from her signature lip gloss. “I just wish you’d tell me more of what’s going through your mind.”

Her hot breath is a warm welcome on the cold, rainy night, and you wonder if she’d taste like strawberries; her favorite fruit. Sweet Saerom, who takes such good care of you and lives her life in such a light, carefree way…

The loud ringing of your phone prevents you from finding it out. It startles both of you, and you jump in your seats. Even though you’re irritated for having the moment ruined, the two of you can’t help but laugh about how easy it is to scare Saerom.

A tired sigh leaves your chest as you show her Ningning’s name on the ID call. You deny the call, but her name shows up again within seconds, shining just as brightly as before. “It’s Ning, I—”

“… Have to go.” Saerom finishes your sentence, nodding with a bit of resentment. She gets up before you say anything else, standing out her hand so you’d do the same. “I know how impatient they are, so you shouldn’t piss them off. But you owe me one for making me wait, now. How about a date? This way we’ll have plenty of time to keep up with each other.”

She has her finger pointed out at you, but you know she’s only joking. Still, you wrap your arms around her small waist and nod, desperate to make it up to your friend.

“It’s settled, then. Text me the details?” You ask, voice muffled as you rest your face on the crook of her neck, safely protected from the cold by her thick hoodie.

“Sure, baby. We can meet up at that cafeteria you like, how about that?” Saerom suggests, running her long nails through your scalp in a soothing manner.

Silently reassuring you she wasn’t annoyed or irritated by their lack of time at the moment, as she knew you’d be upset about it later.

You don’t want to let her go, but Saerom also has a performance of her own to get ready for, and you’ve wasted too much of her time by leaving her waiting. Reluctantly, you let go of her as she nods, stepping aside so you’d walk together toward the entrance of the arena. She clings to your arm, and you wonder if she’s not uncomfortable with her skirt on such a freezing night.

It’s worth it: she looks like every bit of the princess she is, in her laid-back outfit.

“Bye, Y/n.” When the two of you reach your parting point, Saerom’s small hands cup your face just as she’d done before. Without rushing, she gives each of your cheeks a hot, longing kiss before turning away and hurrying to her group’s backstage room. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, Saerom unnie!” You scream back, watching as she runs and laughs freely on the opposite end of the corridor.

Now, it was time to confront the four devilish women you were, unfortunately, so damn attracted to. With a sigh, you make your way to their room, knowing they’ll be waiting.

They’re always waiting for you, whether they admit it or not.

—

“Oh, so you do know your way back.” Minjeong’s voice is full of disappointment as you walk through the door, delicately making your way inside the room with hopes of going unnoticed. “What a shame.”

As if that has ever been a possibility.

“Where have you been, Y/n?” Ningning demands to know, looking down on you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Three other pairs of eyes are just as attentive to your answer, although they don’t stop changing and taking off their heavy makeup to actively do so. The girls are fuming— you’ve known them for long enough to gather said knowledge in the subtle way they spend too much time meticulously folding their clothes and walking around, all while making sure to send you hard, jugful stares.

“Where have I been?” You take a deep sigh, mirroring the maknae’s pose in hopes of calming yourself before answering. “I went to the parking lot to meet up with Saerom, because I’ve apparently told her to wait for me there.”

There’s something in Yizhuo’s tone: so sharp and patronizing, that ignites a livid fire inside your chest. She’s such a sob, acting as if you had done something so utterly wrong. Always so demanding.

The silence that follows your brief accusation is unnerving. You want to shake each of them, annoyed both for what they did to your friend, and because they made you miss their show by leaving earlier than expected.

Giselle sighs, taking off her brown extensions as she brushes you off. “No one other than the staff is allowed inside. We didn’t even kick her out, Y/n. Consider that a favor.”

Your mouth opens in shock upon hearing the bassist’s words. The worst part was that they meant every preposterous thing they say. With a frustrated sigh, you search for something to occupy your hands with so you won’t scratch the members’ eyes out from their faces like you certainly want to.

You turn your back to them, looking for something. For a distraction, anything to keep your mind off how much you wanted to make them pay for making Saerom upset.

After not finding anything in the mess they always make backstage, you turn around and shove your finger in Minjeong’s face. “You told Karina to say it, didn’t you? You lousy—”

The blonde girl opens a malicious smile, surprisingly calm and happy to have you on the verge of an anger meltdown. She shakes her head, gesturing to Karina instead.

“Oh no, Y/nnie.” Winter laughs, delighted by your nervousness. If she had to be honest, you did look hot like this: brows furrowed and muscles all tensed up. Minejong licks her lips, imagining how delicious it would be to drink from your cunt until you were sobbing, begging for a release that wouldn’t come anytime soon. “Karina unnie took care of it all by herself.”

Surely you’d forget about your little friend, by then.

Karina rolls her eyes when you finally approach her, muttering about how much of a drama queen both you and Minjeong are. She has her legs hanging comfortably on top of the desk and pays you no mind, too busy with watching something on her stupid phone.

“Did you?” You ask, not yet daring to grab her phone and throw it against the wall like you so desperately wanted to. Even if anger clouded your mind, you know Jimin wouldn’t let that slide. “The poor girl was out there freezing to death, Jimin. Why the fuck did you tell her—”

“You’re lacking.” Is all that she tells you, still not looking up. “You left in the middle of our show to go look for your little friend.”

Ningning comes out of the bathroom, attentive to the tension that hasn’t left the room ever since you arrived. “You’ve skipped so many events lately. And you’re barely taking any solo pics of any of us.” She points it out, earning a nod from Giselle.

“Recording us is one of the few things you’re able to do properly,” Minjeong adds, twisting her tongue. “And now your useless self isn’t even doing that anymore. God, you piss me off, Y/n.”

Saerom’s mention always brings out the worst of the girls, but Winter is the most affected by the fact that your attention is not solely on them anymore.

Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minejong are greedy, selfish, so damn full of themselves. But most importantly, they refuse to share. Especially when it came to you. It doesn’t matter how much you fight or argue, things worked simply: you were theirs just as much as they were yours.

And the Aespa girls didn’t allow outsiders to play with their possessions. No matter how foolishly you might think so, the implication is clear— in the end, you’d always answer to them.

“You have managers to handle your career.” You remind them, sighing deeply. “As well as other groupies to do all of your media work. I’m not paid to be your photographer or whatever. Actually!” Hitting your palms on the big table the girls were sitting around comfortably, you add. “I’m not being fucking paid at all. I’m under no obligation to indulge your demands.”

The last sentence seems to hurt the band’s maknae. Ningning presses a hand to her heart, terrified at the possibility of you not indulging their every will anymore.

“This fucking girl, Y/n. Saerom.” Yizuho’s pronounces her name as if it’s a plague. “S-She’s clouded your mind. What else has she told you? She’s such a fucking liar.”

“No, Ningie.” Minjeong corrects her friend, patting Ningning’s hair affectionately. Although her eyes are solely on you, as poisonous as the vicious smile lingering on her face. “Saerom is just a useless piece of sh—”

Minjeong has sharp reflexes. Before you even think of a reaction, Giselle’s grip prevents you from moving, somehow making you even angrier with her hot, minty breath on the back of her neck.

“She cares about me! Unlike you! You fuck ass selfish whores.” You scream, kicking and pushing yourself against Aeri to let you go. It’s useless, but at least her muscles tense up with the effort.

Karina frowns at the words you shout so vividly. At first, she didn’t think much of your friendship with the girl from that small group— what was its name again? Forms? Formis? It doesn’t matter. But then, you started to spend more time on your phone, which was something you never did whenever they were in your company. You missed a few of their rehearsals, and would sometimes show up late or leave earlier because of university, as you claimed.

Which was bullshit. You’ve never let anything come in the way of being with the band before, even when they were just four broke girls with nothing but their love for music. There was no justification for you to do so now.

Your new rebellious behavior certainly had to do with this girl, Saerom, and her bad influence. She’s certainly corrupting you, filling your pretty little head with sweet words and blunt lies.

Karina would end her before letting such a thing happen.

With a subtle touch, the leader signals to Giselle to let you go. The Japanese girl promptly does so: it’s been a few minutes, and your muscles were too fatigued to keep fighting her grip. Although her big hands stay locked on your hips, making sure you’re trapped in her lap.

Not that you mind.

“Saerom is a bad influence on you,” Karina says, after a few minutes of watching your chest’s rapid movements, as you try to gather your breaths. She’s pleased to notice you’re still wearing the golden necklace she gave you, with an A shining in bright gold. “You should stop seeing her altogether.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you don’t even fight the urge to laugh at Karina’s demands. “Do you hear how insane you sound?” You only realize they’re all serious when no one joins you in the laughter. “Oh my fucking God. Saerom is the only sane person here! I won’t stop being friends with her just because you fucking want me to.”

“Brat,” Minjeong mutters, narrowing her eyes at you. You’re ready to start screaming once again, but Karina beats you to it.

The leader taps on the table rather impatiently, voice low and husky. “She has to go, Y/n. Minjeong’s right. Stop giving us such a headache and do as you’re told.”

It’s absolutely infuriating, how full of themselves the girls are. How can Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning demand anything from you after so many years of blind dedication? You don’t owe them anything, yet they treat you like a rebellious child.

They’ve always driven you mad mad. Being in the girls’ presence meant you were always blushing and acting like an impulsive idiot with as much a subtle glance thrown at you. You’d do anything for it, without asking anything back. For them.

But as you stare at the four girls, the only thing you feel is an anger that settles deep inside your bones. It makes you want to flip the big table they’re sitting around and throw everything they own on the walls.

“I’ve sacrificed so many important events over the past years just to be by your fucking side,” You tell the four pairs of eyes that watch you, brushing your hands on your face. The night had been tiring, and your adrenaline hush was finally fading. “I had to reschedule my wisdom tooth removal three times to attend your shootings and music bank stages. I’ve missed family gatherings and birthdays to be with you. I’m fucking graduating next month, a semester later than expected. My parents are so fucking pissed because of that. Did any of you even know?” The silence is enough of an answer. Not that you even had to ask. “Of course you don’t. You don’t fucking care about anything but yourselves.”

You’ve abdicated so much just to pay Karina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Giselle your endless support. It doesn’t matter if they disagree with your current decisions, you’re under no obligation to follow their expectations nor do everything they wanted you to.

But it seems they’ve become forgetful of that.

“Let me go, Aeri.” You tell the girl, squirming on her lap. When her hands don’t move, you scream. “I said let me go!”

You’re angry at them. For being such possessive assholes. For taking so much while giving so little. For so many things you don’t even know how to express properly.

None of the four girls say anything as you leave. Not even after you brush past them and close the door with a loud noise.

They hate to be wrong, all of them. So they holdonto their pride for a little longer. Surely you’d come back for them soon. You couldn’t stand being apart for too long, they were sure of it.

—

Being bossy is one of your many traits. You’ve always been spoiled rotten: being the only girl born in three generations into a family who loves and supports you in all of your choices ensured you that, even if you were met with some resistance at first, it didn’t take much convincing for all of your wishes to be granted. You’d only have to battle your lashes and shed a few tears and it was yours, no matter how stupid it was.

It’s only natural you’d live up to your stubbornness.

Sure, you still attended the band’s events, recording and providing content as you’ve always done, but things were somehow different, now: it was as though there was a thick wall separating you. The warmth you shared with Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning was long gone. You weren’t any different from their other staff, with the short, straightforward answers you’d give to their questions, and they despised it. They wanted your loud, fiery self back. Guilt was eating the girls alive.

So they silently decide that just this time, you’d win.

This time only.

The band’s schedule for the month was packed, but Giselle had managed to cancel a few events so you could finally talk. The Japanese girl isn’t as patient as Karina or adorable as Ningning, but knows you well enough to get your head in the right senses.

When Aeri opens the door to your favorite cafe— the one furthest from your main campus, although still on university grounds, the last thing she expects is for you to have company.

She should’ve thought better. Of course, you’d have that nugu failure of an idol up in your ass. It’s like the two of you are joined at the hip now, anyway.

Giselle’s entire body feels hot, and she’s absolutely fuming. No matter how many deep breaths she takes, nothing makes her less livid as she watches you lean onto Saerom’s touch, laughing so freely with shimmery eyes directed at that useless girl.

This cafe was something like a sanctuary to you. There was something peaceful in the lo-fi beats that echoed through the place, and you’ve lost count of the times you spent hours lost in thought, wondering about the customers' backstories and their orders. You were a regular, and Giselle recalls picking you up nearby a few times.

You look so at ease, eyes shining brightly as you laugh at something Saerom says, clinging onto the idol’s arm. The sight of you, so carefree and happy with someone that isn’t her, Karina, Minejong or Ning is enough for Giselle’s chest to tighten, hands closing onto fists. Her hatred for Fromis’ leader only grows. Hates how she makes you so at ease, how she takes up so much of your time.

Aespa has grown, now— in both popularity and influence. They’re famous and even though they aren’t yet rich, they have much more money than needed. Saerom’s nothing compared to them. Not as beautiful, not as talented, and certainly not as successful. She’s nothing more than a failure, a pathetic girl from a small company who doesn’t give a shit about her group.

So what did she do to have your uttermost attention? Why do you look at her with such adoration, such love? It’s nearly the same way you look at herself, Karina, Winter, and Ningning.

And that can’t happen. You’re theirs; their groupie, their first, most dedicated fan. They’ll be dammed before they have to share you with anyone else.

Saerom pales as soon as she spots Giselle’s confident steps, and she opens her mouth to warn you. The words die on her lips as the fellow idol beats her to it; Before they can even think, Giselle’s in front of you, bracing her arms in front of her chest with a displeased look.

“Look at who we have here.” She twists her mouth in disgust, eyes darting from you to Saerom, who retreats her arm from your chair and goes rigid. “The lovebirds. For someone who claims to be so busy, you sure have a lot of fucking free time for Saerom, don’t you think, Y/n?”

Unlike the poor idol, who trembles under Giselle’s snobbish gaze and seems ready to leave at any cue, you roll your eyes at the guitarist. She doesn’t intimidate you at all, not with the way her hands rest tightly on her hips and the little angry pout in her mouth.

Giselle’ attractive, even more so when she’s being an asshole. Still, her self-entitlement pisses you off more than anything. She thinks she can control you; who you hang out with, and what you do.

Ignoring her pettiness, you gesture to your laptop, to the small journal, and to your camera, all tangled on the table. “I’m studying. Saerom unnie came to help me choose a few clips for my final project.” You click your tongue, typing your password on your laptop so the screen lights up. It takes a few seconds, making it obvious it has been a while since you’ve turned the device on. “It’s due tomorrow, so… you’re kinda interrupting us, unnie. Mind coming back later? We can talk on Friday, after your MBC schedule.”

You do love to rile the girls up anyway, and Giselle falls into your traps quite easily. The only other person that beats her to it is Minjeong— the blonde nightmare.

Giselle’s fist hits the table, not aggressively enough for your stuff to fall but more than necessary to get the attention she wants, despite not you or Saerom attention’s wavering from the girl ever since she set foot in the cafe. She grabs you by the arm, then, still locking eyes with your best friend as you’re lifted from the table

“Me and Y/n are going to have a little talk, ok sunbaenim? We’ll take long, so I suggest you make your way back.” Giselle says, eyes turning darker, “Now.”

Saerom doesn’t need to be told twice. Without a word, your friend grabs her purse and stands up so quickly her chair clicks against the marble floor, sliding noisily. She hesitates, searching for any signs you need her to stay. Giselle’s intimidating, of course, but Saerom would defend you if you asked her to.

“See you later, Y/n.” Saerom murmurs, relaxing her brows after you nod, gesturing for her to go. She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and you think she’s going to lean in and kiss you on the cheek. But Giselle’s grip on your arm is still strong, clinging onto you like you were going to run away at any second. Instead, Saerom nods to both you and Aeri. “Goodbye, Giselle sunbaenim. Have a great afternoon.”

Giselle doesn’t answer, watching as Saerom runs to the door like she’s been struck by lightning.

“You didn’t even let her breathe. Hey!” You complain, being ushered to the restroom as soon as the doorbell rings and the fellow idol is nowhere in sight. “Rude.”

A chuckle dies in your throat as soon as you’re shoved into one of the stalls rather roughly. Giselle’s hands are all over you, then: groping your breasts, your waist, your neck, and your face as she kisses you sloppily. Her fingers roam through your skin with perhaps too much pressure, so hungry and impatient.

Like her bandmates, Giselle only knows how to take. It’s one of the many things she excels on doing. Her touch is possessive and infuriating. Intoxicating.

Deliciously wrong.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke, Y/n?” She asks, gripping your jaw as she whispers into your ear. “Do you seriously think I won’t fuck up your little friend’s entire career if you piss me off with those little games of yours?”

“I’m not doing anything.” You squirm, trying to get out of her grip. The affirmation does nothing to ease her touches— she’s well aware you love playing dumb. “If you mess with Fromis’ image just because I’m friends with Saerom, Giselle, I swear I’ll post that fucking video of you—“

She silences you with another rough kiss, sick of hearing you being so protective of that pathetic girl. Her tongue forces her way onto your mouth, commanding you to open and surrender to all of her wishes.

As usual.

In a swift motion, Giselle turns you around, pressing your face against the cold walls. You feel her body heat behind you, skin nearly throbbing from how angry she is.

“Say her name one more time, Y/n and I fucking will.” She growls, gripping your wrists together so you’re unable to turn around and curse her out to her face. “Test me. Say it, now. It will be my pleasure. Our pleasure. To end her fucking career forever and have you as the one to blame.”

None of her threats are empty— you know she means it. Giselle’s only waiting for a cue, a reason to spread fake rumors and end Saerom’s career once and for all. The laughter that echoes inside the empty restroom is full of mockery, and you wish for nothing more but to turn around and land a punch to the guitarist’s face.

Only you can’t. Not with the way she’s pressing onto you, showing off her mornings spent at the gym. It’s maddening, how hot she is. Giselle’s low, husky breaths pant on the back of your shoulders, and you shudder involuntarily. There’s no way to help it: it’s been so long since she’s touched you like this. You’re both starved, desperate even if you’ll never admit it.

Although it’s easy to notice, from the way her heavy hands grope and twist every inch of skin she finds. You’re easily marked— the girls have always praised you for that. But their marks usually faded as easily as they were made.

Which doesn’t seem like the case, not when she’s biting your lips so harshly. Giselle doesn’t care if she hurts you. It’s what you deserve, after taunting them for so long.

“Fuck, Y/n…” She murmurs, squeezing your breast with her hand. The other one closes around your neck, depriving you of just enough air to make you dizzy. You roll your eyes, panting with pleasure. “You’re so pretty… I can’t wait to make you cry.”

Not at all subtle. Giselle’s message is clear: no one fucks you like I do. Like we do.

Her nails scratch your thighs, wandering dangerously close to your aching spot. You’re both ashamed and annoyed by how much her aggressiveness turns you on. Every word the Japanese girl utters from her mouth is true, you know so: her assertive, possessive traits would never fade, no matter how extreme you judged her actions, sometimes. It’s disgraceful to acknowledge that you want Giselle to ruin you, to make you cry and beg for her to take everything she wishes to and more.

Still, you’re not lost enough to step on your pride just yet.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You turn your face as Giselle pulls your head back and reaches for your lips, trying to push her away after being tugged and turned around like a doll. “Self-entitled bitch. I fucking ha—”

It’s much easier to rebel under her like this: with her taking you from behind, face is hidden by the stall’s poor lightning.

“So you’re not wet, then?” She interrupts your angry banter, smirking as her hands trail lower, unbuttoning your shorts without much care. Her touch, however, is surprisingly soft, thumbs tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. You gulp, trying your best to not let out a moan when she presses her knee against your cunt, pulsating and starved for attention. “You want me to go away, Y/n? It sure doesn’t look like it.”

Giselle’s fingers brush your clit through your panties, tracing circles over your hardened bud as if the two of you have all the time in the world. She laughs when you bite your lip so hard it trails a thin amount of blood, tasting the metallic taste as she drinks from you.

“You’re a j-jerk.”

It’s hard to concentrate when Giselle’s absolutely everywhere; she holds your shirt up, laughing to herself once she’s graced with your bare tits, no bra in sight. She pinches and twists your nipples until they’re red and overly sensible, teeth scratching against your neck before she sinks her teeth, sucking until she’s sure it’ll bruise properly.

Content with your hard time on staying collected, she hums. “Tell me more.”

For someone with such a dirty mouth, she sure knows how to work it. Giselle’s fingers tease your wet cunt, barely applying any pressure on your entrance before retreating completely, as she makes good use of your slick to circle your clit.

Her teasing is unexpected; you moan loudly at her touch, desperately pressing yourself onto Giselle so she’ll give you more.

A cocky smirk appears on her lips at your silent plead. For that, you’re rewarded with more pressure against your throbbing clit. Her strokes become quicker, and the knot in your stomach tightens.

“Will you ask for it? Like a good girl?” She asks quietly, pressing wet kisses against your throat.

Her tone is so innocent and caring, as if she’s not fucking you in a cafe’s restroom, clouding your mind with lust for all the wrong reasons.

You don’t give in, although your head falls back as you lean onto her frame, making it easier for Giselle to mark you as she pleases. “Fuck you.”

Giselle laughs. Her fingers leave your cunt, and she’s tapping your mouth before you can even complain about the absence of her touches. “Open.”

Instead of an eager response, the guitarist’s fingers are met with pouty lips, promptly sealed shut. She’s big on the patience game, but your previous encounter with Saerom has clearly affected her: Giselle’s pupils are blown, and her nails scratch every inch she’s able to reach— close to your breasts, on your lower lip, your shoulders, the inside of your thighs… her marks are everywhere. Claiming, owning you.

A reminder of who you belong to.

Giselle rolls her eyes at your resistance, tightening her grip on your neck. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough for your breaths to quicken, feeling lightweight once again. She fastens her strokes on your clit, pressing harsher once you don’t do as told.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Open. Your. Damn. Mouth.” Both of her hands rest on your hips, with a steady grip that makes you whine in frustration.

There aren’t any coherent thoughts in your mind. The only thing you crave is her touch, and for her to not stop until the warmth that is building up on your lower abdomen explodes into a delicious wave of pleasure, like the orgasms she knows so well how to take from you.

“Aeri…” Your voice is barely a murmur, as you rest your forehead on the crook of her neck and plant small, wet kisses to the corner of her mouth, in attempts of coaxing her into giving in.

But you know she’s not going to until you obey. The way your clit pulsates under Giselle’s hand is both delicious and frustrating. It makes your skin boil, so agonizingly hot you open your mouth, swallowing your pride when she pushes 2 of her fingers down your throat.

“That’s it.” Giselle’s praise send a joint of pleasure straight to your cunt, humming in pleasure as you stare at her with big, teary eyes while sucking on her fingers. It burns on your pride, but lust has long clouded your thoughts. “It’s all for you, sweet girl. You just have to stop fighting it. Stop testing us.”

Damn her, for knowing your body so well.

Giselle’s hand leaves your mouth to slide her fingers inside your dripping cunt. You’d be embarrassed by the sounds her thrusts make, gushing so easily from how drenched you are, but you don’t have it inside to care about that anymore. It’s music to her ears. She’s even more cocky know that she’s sure you can’t resist her, despite being so cold and distant over the past weeks.

“Oh fuck, D-don’t stop.” You moan loudly, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you. Once again, you’re glad she’s taking you from behind; this way you don’t have to look at her face. It’s a great excuse, you tell yourself as she shoves her fingers inside your cunt so fast your vision is clouded by black dots.

Despite your inner thoughts, her smirk burns on your back, and she hums contently while pressing small, wet kisses on your back. “Why not? Are you going to cum?”

You don’t have enough strength to return her provocative banter, too lost in pleasure. Whimpering loudly, you nod, rocking against her hand so you’d get even more friction.

Giselle gets the message, curling her fingers deep in your walls as she watches you closely, hitting all of your sweetest spots. You let out another loud moan, lost in the pleasure she’s granting you.

“Do it, Y/n. Just let go.” She commands, watching you closely. “Cum whenever you want. Just like that, pretty. All over my hands, do it.”

You don’t expect her bossy tone to affect you this much, but it does. At the sound of her voice, you reach your peak, making a mess of the girl’s hand as you grab her hand to prevent her from stimulating you any further. Giselle keeps on fingering you, barely moving her fingers while she waits for you to come down from your high.

You take your time rinding down your orgasm, taking deep breaths as you feel tears cripple down your eyes. You’ll have to deal with Giselle the moment you’ve recovered completely, so you avoid it for as long as possible. The girls’ issue with Saerom has always annoyed you, along with the way they disregard your decisions.

Now that you’re ending a cycle in your life, with graduation just around the corner, you can’t help but acknowledge the fact that it’s time to focus on serious things, like focusing on your professional career instead of following the Aespa girls blindly like you’re used to. You have to set boundaries for yourself and move on.

Except you can’t, and it’s eating you alive.

Giselle locks you into place, preventing you from running like you so desperately want to. You adjust your clothes in silence, trying not to be extremely uncomfortable under her piercing stare. Somehow, you feel even more vulnerable than moments ago, when you were moaning and writhing under the girl’s touches.

They’ve always managed to do that to you— drive you crazy while trying to guess what was going on through their heads. Only you didn’t have the time or energy for that anymore.

And she’s so affectionate— they all are, ever since you met them. It wasn’t uncommon for Karina, Minjeong, Giselle or Ningning’s hands to be caught wandering through your spine, or for them to be ogling your tits whenever you were in the tightest crop tops just to be noticed in their shows.

They found you annoying, pushy even. But you don’t mind. Not as long as they keep seeking your touches and demanding your attention.

Then, there’s Giselle, whose mouth would always wander in places she wasn’t supposed to, be it with a brush of her lips on your ears as she claimed the music was too loud for you to hear her, or the knee that somehow was always pressing onto your cunt, whenever you sat on her lap during guitar lessons.

Possessive but soft. Suffocating, yet still caring and attentive. That’s how she was, how the four girls were. You hated how much they were made for you. How addicting their touches were, and how weak you are for them. It no good, and you shouldn’t, but you’d do anything to have them.

“You’re mistaken if you think we’re going to let you, Y/n. Not after all those years.” She tells you, with a serious face as she gives your waist a tight squeeze. “You’re bounded to us by now. So you can forget that Saerom girl. We’re bigger than her in the industry, and I fucking swear we’re going to ruin her and her group’s life for touching what’s ours. Do you understand?”

Her final words seem to snap you out of your high. You roll your eyes, pushing her out of the stall as you rush out of the restroom, gathering your stuff in record time. You fail to see the guitarist running after you as you leave the cozy café, which is a relief.

All you want at the moment is some peace.

Although it was rather clear that luck wasn’t on your side. While you were with Aeri, it had started pouring, the wind ricocheting droplets of water like small needles crippling on your skin. You curse your past self, who had dressed for a warm day, walking even faster when a loud honk prevents you from cursing any further.

You turn around to see Giselle’s Honda Type R following your steps. She’s watching you closely, with her windows rolled over and one hand on the wheel.

“Don’t be too stubborn,” Giselle tells you. Your teeth are clenched and you shiver under your clothes. Her attentive eyes follow your every move, well aware you’re cold; you’ve always been sensitive, after all.

It’s thundering, you don’t have an umbrella and most important— your many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. With a deep sigh, you open the passenger’s seat, sinking into the seat while refusing to pay her as much as a quick look.

The trip to your house is silent. None of you speak, even though Giselle clearly wants to. Her knuckles turn white from the amount of strength she places on the wheel, and it’s her turn to pout, shaking her head in disapproval. Truthfully, the girls know you’re right: they don’t own you. They’ve grown spoiled to having your full adoration for so long they forgot it was a privilege rather than a demand.

It’s something they reflected about, after you abandoned them backstage on their comeback show. About how little they actually knew about you, and how little effort they put into trying to.

Sure, you were aggressive, stubborn and undeniably irritating, but Karina, Giselle, Minjeong and Winter have always corresponded your actions with twice as much fire, no matter how much they complained. They craved it, craved you.

Despite the deadly silence, you arrive home rather quickly. Not a word was exchanged during the trip— Giselle wouldn’t dare apologize, and you’re nearly sure you’d run her over with that fancy car of hers if she tried to provoke you.

You close the Honda’s door so loudly the entire car roars. Still, you don’t mind. More than that: you don’t even pay her a glance, playing into her games a little too much. It’s a simple one: if you look back, you lose.

And you never lose.

So she watches you go, wondering why the distance you’ve placed between you bothers her so much.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Intern” - Pt 2 Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: On race day, Y/N finds herself exhausted from a chaotic morning, only to be pulled back into Max’s orbit after his frustrating third-place finish. While delivering a post-race message to him, Y/N notices a crack in his usual arrogant demeanor, revealing a vulnerability she’s never seen before.

Race day is chaos—unrelenting, loud, and full of an energy I haven’t quite learned to navigate yet. From the moment I stepped into the garage that morning, Adam had me running papers, fetching forms, double-checking interviews, and troubleshooting issues I wasn’t even sure I understood. My head feels heavy, my feet ache, and the race hasn’t even started yet.

I manage to steal a moment to myself, slipping away from the suffocating frenzy of the garage to the hospitality area meant for the general public. The crowd is massive today, buzzing with excitement, and the energy radiates into the air like static. I weave through the sea of fans, my head down, my nerves steadying slightly as I finally grab a coffee.

It’s not great, a little too bitter, but it’s hot, and I savor the moment. Walking past the rows of motorhomes, I can’t help but admire the setups—the flags, the sleek exteriors, and the buzz of people that surround each team. It’s the kind of thing I used to dream about when watching F1 on TV, but living it is something else entirely.

“Where’d you get that?” a familiar voice calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glance up to see Lando Norris striding toward me, a teasing smirk plastered across his face.

I smile back. “Out there,” I reply, motioning toward the exit where the fans and food vendors are.

He raises his eyebrows, looking mock-impressed. “Wow. You actually ventured all the way out there?” His voice is full of playful disbelief, and I can’t help but laugh softly.

“Shut up,” I say, my face heating up as I remember how much I’ve mentioned avoiding crowds before. It’s not that I hate them—I just don’t love being in the thick of things.

Lando chuckles, nudging my shoulder lightly. “No, seriously. I’m proud of you. Growth.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I reply, rolling my eyes at him.

For a moment, he watches me with an amused smile, but his expression softens slightly. “You seem busier than usual. Saw you running around the media pen yesterday—looked intense.”

I shrug, suddenly aware of how tired I must look. “Yeah, my boss has me helping out more this weekend,” I explain, glancing around at the bustling space. My eyes catch on a familiar figure a few meters away, and my stomach twists uncomfortably.

Max is standing with his arms crossed, looking my way. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something sharp in his gaze that makes my heart skip. Quickly, I look away, focusing back on Lando, who seems oblivious to the tension building in me.

“Well, don’t let them run you into the ground,” Lando says, his tone light but sincere. “You’ve got to survive the weekend, too, you know.”

“Yeah…” I mumble, glancing back toward Max, who’s still watching. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight. The sight alone sends my anxiety into overdrive. “I should probably get back,” I say abruptly, waving at Lando as I step away.

Back at the Red Bull motorhome, I barely make it down the hall before Adam steps out of his office, looking stressed.

“Where did you go? I tried to call you,” he asks, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“Oh, sorry. I just… I grabbed a coffee,” I stammer, holding up the now-empty cup as evidence.

Adam sighs, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I need you to give this to Max,” he says, thrusting a paper into my hands before disappearing back into his office without further explanation.

I glance down at the paper and immediately feel my stomach twist. It’s a fine. For cursing during the media conference. Great. Of course, it had to be Max. And of course, I had to be the one to deliver it.

Bracing myself, I make my way toward Max’s driver’s room, the nerves growing with each step. I hate how easily he gets under my skin, how even the thought of facing him leaves my palms sweaty and my heart racing. I knock softly on the door, hoping he won’t hear it. Maybe I can just leave the paper and run.

“Come in,” his voice calls, smooth but laced with that familiar edge.

Pushing the door open, I peek inside to see him lounging on the couch, his phone in hand. He glances up when he sees me, and a smirk spreads across his face.

“Intern,” he says, his tone condescending, like he’s genuinely happy to see me—but only because he gets to torment me.

“Max,” I reply hesitantly, stepping inside. “Adam wanted me to give this to you.” I move toward the table near the door, intending to set the paper down and leave as quickly as possible.

“No, no,” he says, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”

I hesitate for a moment, wanting to say no, but the look on his face tells me it would be pointless. Reluctantly, I walk over and hand him the paper. His eyes scan it, and he lets out an exaggerated scoff, tossing the paper onto the couch beside him.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not allowed to say ‘fuck’? I’m a fucking adult. I don’t need to be told what to do.”

I stand there awkwardly, unsure whether to respond or remain silent. His gaze flicks to me, and his expression hardens slightly.

“And you…” he says, his voice low and almost accusing. “You just love to piss me off, don’t you?”

I blink, taking an instinctive step back as he stands and starts walking toward me. “What?” I ask, confused and a little nervous.

“You heard me,” he says, his tone growing sharper. “You like to piss me off. Unless, of course, you’re just naturally this irritating.”

“I… I don’t mean to do anything but my job,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.

He scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Is flirting with Lando part of your job, intern?”

My face flushes immediately, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside me. “What?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” he repeats, his tone darker now. “Don’t play dumb. I know you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid.”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone,” I snap back, my voice firm despite the anxiety building in my chest.

He looks taken aback for a moment, but his expression hardens again, his smirk twisting into something more dangerous. “Be careful, intern,” he says, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “Do you want to lose your job?”

“What?” I stammer, my heart racing.

“I said,” he repeats slowly, each word deliberate, “do. you. want. to. lose. your. job?”

“No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I look up at him. My stomach churns with anxiety, the weight of his gaze almost unbearable.

“Then don’t talk to Lando again,” he spits, his tone cold and final. “Now go do your job, intern.”

I don’t respond. My legs carry me out of the room before I can process what’s just happened, his words echoing in my ears. The door shuts behind me, but the tension doesn’t leave. My hands tremble as I clutch the empty coffee cup, my mind racing with a thousand questions—and not a single answer.

The garage feels heavy with a collective sense of disappointment as Max crosses the line in third place. The usual cheers and celebration feel muted, replaced by subdued claps and nods of acknowledgment. A podium is still a podium, but the energy here is clear: Max should be winning, not settling.

I lean against the wall, clutching my tablet, as I watch the screen replay the final laps. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but feel the unease trickle down to me. After all, when Max is in a bad mood, everyone in his orbit feels it. And guess who’s always closest to him lately? Me.

My phone buzzes in my hand, a text from Adam lighting up the screen.

Adam: Media after podium, please.

I let out a small groan and roll my eyes. Do I seriously have to deal with a pissed-off Max again?

Dragging myself to Adam’s office, I hesitate outside the door for a moment before poking my head in. “Adam?” I say quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever he’s working on.

He’s standing by his desk, his phone in hand, furiously typing something. It takes him a second to realize I’m there, but when he looks up, his expression softens. “What’s up?” he asks, his tone gentle despite the stress hanging in the air.

I shift on my feet, feeling nervous as I try to phrase my thoughts carefully. “I just… I wanted to ask if maybe you needed help with other things, you know, besides media?” My voice is hesitant, unsure if I sound as desperate as I feel. “I just… I’m not sure it’s the best position for me,” I add, fidgeting with the tablet in my hands.

Adam furrows his brow, clearly confused. “Well, it’s only for this weekend, Y/N. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” I lie quickly, shaking my head. “It’s fine. I just thought I’d offer to help with other stuff, that’s all.”

His expression softens again, and he gives me a small smile. “No, it’s okay. We’ll get through this weekend, but thank you for stepping up. I’ll be sure to remember how much you’ve helped.” He winks, and I can’t help but smile at the praise, a warm feeling bubbling in my chest despite my earlier frustration.

“Now,” he adds, gesturing toward the door, “you better go get Max for post-race.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, my smile lingering as I walk out of his office. At least Adam appreciates me. That alone feels like a small victory.

But as I head down the hallway toward Max’s driver room, the warmth fades, replaced by the familiar knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. Dealing with Max again—especially when he’s in a bad mood—feels like walking into a storm without an umbrella. I stop outside his door, hesitating for just a moment before knocking lightly.

The door swings open almost immediately, and Max stands there, his expression dark and stormy. He looks pissed off, his blue eyes sharp and his jaw clenched tightly. The sight of him makes me take a small step back, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Sorry… I just wanted to know if you’re ready for post-race?” I ask softly, holding the papers and phone close to my chest like a shield.

Max sighs heavily, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Just… give me a minute,” he mumbles, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. He turns and walks back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

I step inside hesitantly, placing the papers on a small table near the door. Something feels off. His usual arrogance, the cocky smirk he always wears like a badge, is gone. Instead, he seems… tired. Defeated, even. I glance at him as he sits down on the couch, his head tilted back, his hands rubbing his temples.

“Can you close the door?” he asks softly, his voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it.

I hesitate for a moment but eventually reach back to push the door closed, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet room. My chest feels tight as I watch him, unsure of what to do or say. The tension in the room feels suffocating, and for some reason, I feel compelled to ask him what’s wrong.

“Are… you okay?” I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then, slowly, he looks at me, his blue eyes clouded with something I can’t quite read. “I’m fine,” he says, but his tone is far from convincing.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I watch him. There’s something so uncharacteristic about him right now that it throws me off balance. Before I can say anything else, he shifts slightly, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Come here,” he says, his voice low but steady as he pats the empty spot on the couch beside him.

My body moves before my brain can catch up, and I find myself walking toward him. I sit down next to him, the air between us thick with unspoken words. For a moment, neither of us says anything, the silence stretching out like a taut wire.

Then, without warning, his hand reaches up to cup my face, pulling me closer. His lips crash onto mine, firm and demanding, and my mind goes blank. I freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of his kiss, his passion seeping into every inch of me.

For a moment, I lose myself in him, my body reacting instinctively as I kiss him back. His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, his movements aggressive and desperate. It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I can feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace.

But then reality snaps back into place, and I pull away abruptly, my breath coming in short gasps as I stare at him in shock. “Max—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, his voice low and raw. His eyes are darker now, filled with something I can’t quite name. “Don’t say anything.”

Before I can process his words, his lips are back on mine, more insistent this time, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. My thoughts are a blur, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what’s happening. But all I can feel is him—his frustration, his passion, his overwhelming presence.

And I can’t seem to pull away.

——————————-

As always, thank you for reading and appreciating my works.😇

l hope my writings help you unwind and escape your life in a way that is exciting to you.

Please like and follow for more!

Xoxo

Princess

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂

description: in which lucy bronze and the england captain feel like four years is long enough to hide a relationship especially since they have just won the euros

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Lucy Bronze x female reader

this is all fiction!

warnings: fluff, a 4 year age gap and sarcastic lucy and reader

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y/n just posted

liked by, leahwilliamsonn, mbrighty04, and 439, 222 others

tagged lionesses, lucybronze, leahwilliamsonn, Lj10, mbrighty04, bethmead_ and 18 others

y/n It's set in now. Five days later, and it has set in.

This team, these girls, this journey has been nothing short of amazing, determined and fantastic, I have been so incredibly lucky to be able to be a part of it.

Thank you England,

Thank you football,

Thank you Lionesses.

And I'll tell you what?

The kids are alright x

view 5098 comments

username1: SO EXCITED TO HAVE YOU BACK IN BARCA!!!❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

username2: I'm crying omg 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username3: best england captain EVER ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

leahwilliamsonn: Such a sap, but the best captain we could have asked for ! ❤️

^

y/n: Couldn't have done it without my best friend/vice captain holding me up! ❤️

lucybronze: <3

^

y/n: <3

keirawalsh: I will never get over you and Sarina cutting your wedding cake ... 😭🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

^

y/n: shoulda seen the proposal ;) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

stanwaygeorgia: I'm still crying at your dance moves in the locker room 😂😭

^

mbrighty04: fucking decked herself 😂😂😂

^

racheldaly3: just laid there for a sec too. 😂😂😂

^

1maryearps: "I'm okay, just tired of how life hates me" - y/n after just winning the euros 2022 and decking herself in the locker room. 😂

^

username4: HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH

jillscottjs8: Still crying even now !

^

y/n: the look on your face was worth any pain we went through! xx

alessiarusso99: Just Buzzin' ❤️

^

y/n: Buzzin man

^

ellatoone: just buzzin dude

^

alessiarusso99: hate you both sm smh! 🙄

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lucybronze just posted

liked by, keirawalsh, marialeonn16, and 209, 218 others

lucybronze back to Barca!

view all 2098 comments

username1: ayyyyyyyy!!! VAMOS BARCA!!! ❤️💙❤️💙

username2: SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU BACK IN BLUE AND RED 💙❤️💙❤️

username3: ArE YOU DATING Y/N!!

^

username4: I think they're just friends! 🤷‍♀️

^

username5: NA they are dating! They live together!

^

username6: AND? people can live together without dating

^

username7: EYES DON'T LIE 😩

keirawalsh: lovely picture of me there, thanks!

^

lucybronze: welcome mate! 😁

y/n: that photo of me, really?

^

lucybronze: had to give the fans something to thirst over 👍

^

y/n: i hate you sm 🙄

marialeonn16: happy to have you back! ❤️💙

see more comments…

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y/n just posted on her story

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lucybronze just posted on her story

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twitter/X

y/n.bronze: Here is a thread of instances which confirm that Lucy and y/n are together in my mind - the bottom of the thread is where it gets good!

How Lucy looked at her during the post match interview after beating Spain??? Like, her eyes were literally heart shaped??? I want that!

When y/n was knocked over during the Sweden game and Lucy didn't even hesitate to square up, her face was so worried, and she only stopped when y/n GRABBED HER HAND?!

Ellie, in a livestream for City YESTERDAY saying that she would stay with Lucy and y/n, confirming they live together - which we already thought!

Then going on to say they have a spare room - even though Lucy has said multiple times she lives in a two bed apartment and y/n has never said anything about her 'place'!

The fact when y/n scored in the Sweden game she ran at Lucy first??? AND JUMPED ON HER

The fact y/n left ARSENAL - her childhood team - to go play for Barca only months after Lucy had and she even admitted in an interview LUCY WAS A BIG PART OF THAT DECISION

when Lucy called y/n in an interview the other day and she answered with 'hi my love???' LIKE????

THE FACT THAT THE MOST RECENT BARCA TRAINING PHOTO Y/N HAS LUCY'S TRAINING TOP ON - AND WHEN KEIRA NOTICED SHE MOVED SLIGHTLY TO PLACE HERSELF IN FRONT OF THE NUMBER SO THE CAMERA COULDN'T SEEE

^

fr I need friends that dedicated to hiding my relationship

LASTLY - the fact they went on holiday together after the euros after Ibiza, and the photos ... the PHOTOS

okay, I'm done, they're soooo dating, thank you.

^

username1: omg this is so good!

username2: ELLIE SAID WHAT?

username3: omg this is Sherlock level of deduction ability

username4: THE PHOTOS???????? IS THAT THEM

^

y/n.bronze: 'rumoured' to be - but look at the hair! It is SOOOOO y/n!

username5: nahhh Wonze for life!

^

username6: how can you read all of that and still pick the wrong answer?!

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y/n just posted on her story

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lucybronze just posted

liked by, keirawalsh, leahwilliamsonn and 321, 111 others

lucybronze sunshine in my life, even when the sky is dark...

comments limited

alessiarusso99: her body looks so good here omg 😭😭

ellatoone: 😏😏

mbrighty04: this feels illegal omg 😳

^

racheldaly3: TELL ME ABOUT IT

y/n: 😶

leahwilliamsonn: heheh 🙂

Lj10: this is sweet :)

keirawalsh: sunshine and hair goals apparently 😚

stanwaygeorgia: hmmmm 😌

see more comments...

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twitter/X

y/n.bronze: OMG LUCY'S NEW POST - IS THIS CONFIRMATION???

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username1: AND ALL THE TEAMS COMMENTS???

^

username2: the caption? the photo? the comments? the lack of tag?

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username3: they have to be together?

^

username4: SOFT LAUNCH SOFT LAUNCH SOFT LAUNCH

y/n.bronze: THE NEW TATTOO! IT IS A STRAWBERRY ON HER SHOULDER - lucy uses the strawberry emoji allllll the time!

^

username5: it has to mean something!

see more comments...

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y/n just posted

liked by, lionesses, leahwilliamsonn, and 498, 399 others

tagged lucybronze

y/n idk what you guys are on about - we're just friends ??

view all 5183 comments

lucybronze: I know right?

username1: UMMMM? 🧐🧐🧐🧐

username2: went from soft launch to MAYBE HARD LAUNCH realll quick?

username3: but like this makes me feel as if they aren't dating?! And that this is just a joke !

^

username4: yeah this feels like they are laughing at the rumours

keirawalsh: two besties, that's all I see

^

y/n: I know, how odd ! 😁

alessiarusso99: it is weird!

^

marialeonn16: I agree! So obvious!

^

ellatoone: SAME!

leahwilliamsonn: I thought it was so obvious as well.

^

lucybronze: People loveeeee to talk ig 🤷‍♀️

username5: I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE 🥲

y/n.bronze: okay, this has thrown even me off I won't lie!

^

username5: maybe we were wrong?

^

y/n.bronze: I really didn't think so tho ...

alexiaputellas: clearly just amigas 🤷‍♀️

see more comments...

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lucybronze just posted

liked by alexiaputellas, mbrighty04, and 207, 388 others

tagged y/n

lucy.bronze Happy four years 'best friend' ;) xx

comments disabled

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y/n just posted

liked by, keirawalsh, leahwilliamsonn and 409, 281 others

tagged lucybronze

y/n Four years of the best 'friendship' I could have asked for xox

comments disabled

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twitter/X

y/n.bronze: FUCK ALL OF YOU - I WAS RIGHT

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username1: 4 years ... 4 goddamn years

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y/n.bronze: I KNEW IT - I FUCKING KNEW IT !

^

y/n: that you did :)

^

y/n.bronze: omg

see more comments...

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END

okay really did enjoy this one - (hope this is what the anon wanted) the amount of Lucy Bronze content and fics I have queued is kinda worrying but I have been a fan of Lucy since she played for SUNDERLAND

which is insane that's a bit too long really

my gay ass

but I am a die hard West Ham Fan and a Sunderland fan (due to my best friend WEST HAM TIL I DIE FORST AND FUCKING FOREMOST) - I know, it is hard - so it is insane how long I have been a fan of her but I reallyyyyy enjoyed writing this and I enjoy writing these actually.

When I originally started drafting these they were just for myself and when I posted LJ's I thought no one would really see it - so to have people be so kind and so happy to request has really made my smile!

So thank you for your support! And more incoming!

Love

Queenie xo

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[immaturityofthomasastruc]

EVEN MORE SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6

I figured since I already read it, I'd give my thoughts on the recent interview Astruc and Thibaudeau took part in.

Due to incompatibility with the new animation engine, SAMG will not be working on the next seasons of ‘Miraculous’. The series is now being developed entirely in France, with the integration of Dwarf Animation.

Okay, props for no more outsourcing, even if I'm not sure what this means for the other ZAG shows.

Season 6 is considered to be “a new beginning”, aside from being a new story arc. It is sometimes referred to by the writers as Season 1.

I'm sure that isn't confusing to the executives at all. Also, maybe don't imply you're starting from scratch when you're already reusing the plot of the main villain using the Butterfly Miraculous.

The writing team already has concrete ideas for how Seasons 7, 8 and 9 will begin and end. They also have ambitions to make it to a Season 12, only if the support of viewers and executives allows them to do so. With this, they emphasize the fact that they would not continue with the show if it were no longer needed or interesting.

So basically, they're planning to keep this up for as long as they can until someone pulls the plug.

The opening of the sixth season is still undecided. They are still discussing whether they will change the musical arrangement or not. Thomas also considers the possibility of making a brand-new theme song. A song has been confirmed for S6. They have the music, the arrangement and a female singer. The character remains unknown.

Imagine how funny it would be if they brought back the woman who sang for Marinette in the movie instead of having Cristina Vee sing again.

Despite leaving Paris at the end of ‘Revolution’ (5x23), Chloé Bourgeois will return in Season 6.

Putting aside all the things I've said about her "damnation arc", what is even the point of bringing her back at this point? She has no powers, no influence, no allies, and isn't a threat of any kind. This makes her not being the next Hawkmoth make even less sense, becuse she has more of a reason to hate Ladybug than Lila does.

Also, with the news that Chloe is coming back, this means that she essentially escaped punishment or at least found a way to rebound like Lila did. So that's a grand total of ZERO villains who actually got punished for their actions after five seasons. I'm starting to think Ladybug and Cat Noir really suck at their jobs.

Sebastien Thibadeau: “[Cerise] (IOTA: I'm still calling her Lila for simplicity's sake) is a villain without costume. She is a villain all the time. There is a reason why, but this reason, neither I nor Astruc will reveal to you yet.” Interviewer: “You mean you already intend to tell it?” Thomas Astruc: “Yes. And you know what, we have already told it, but you haven’t noticed.”

Translation: Ladies and gentlemen, LET'S GET READY FOR RETCOOOOOONNNNS!

Seriously, we are approaching the sixth season of this show. It has been eight years since Lila first appeared all the way back in "Volpina", and we still know nothing about her other than the fact that she has some three moms for some reason. You can't pull the whole "This is something you need to rewatch to understand!" excuse because the last two seasons hinged on breaking the rules about Sentimonsters.

Speaking of, I love how this comment about Lila accidentally implies that Gabriel never did anything evil when he wasn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch. All that emotional abuse and isolation Adrien suffered was all out of love!

Thomas Astruc on Chloe redemption arc: “We put the characters in situations, and then we say to ourselves: “what would be the logic?” How would the character logically react in “such and such” a situation? And we tried, we tried everything. But every time, we say to ourselves: “if we write this, it’ll be wrong”. There’ll be no reason, it’ll come out of nowhere, the fact that she’ll face something nice and say: “Oh, I’ve been horrible, Marinette what have I done! From now on, I’ll be...” No, nonsense. I understand people’s desire for Chloe to be nice. I’d like that too. But I’d like it if in real life, people with a lot of power suddenly started doing nice things. But Chloé has no interest in changing. She has no reason to change, unfortunately.”

Ah, yes because Gabriel (Global terrorist and abusive parent), Felix (Betrayed Ladybug and temporarily wiped out all of humanity on a whim), Nathalie (Willing accomplice to Gabriel) Andre (corrupt politician and Chloe's primary enabler), Sabrina (Willing accomplice to Chloe) all had compelling reasons to change their ways.

Also, "I've been horrible, what have I done?"

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST, THAT'S HOW VIRTUALLY EVERY REDEMPTION ON THIS SHOW IS EXECUTED.

The fact that he's seriously acting like he actually wanted to write a redemption arc is insulting. Not only does it ignore all the things he's said to fans who were upset at the turn of events, but it makes no sense for him to take this stance because he's a writer. If Chloe turning a new leaf is too strange of an idea, then write an actual character arc allowing her to progress to a state where she recognizes what she's done is wrong. You control the character for God's sake! It's not like you're training a dog to stop humping the couch. You can change things to make a redemption arc possible.

In other words, Astruc is either lying to save his ass, or THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES about writing characters.

Sebastien Thibadeau talks about Andre's character development: In contrast to Chloe, “Andre Bourgeois evolved as a character because we had already imagined a back story. He had the potential to change, and that’s where the beautiful scene comes from — I think it’s magnificent — between Gabriel and himself on the roof of the Grand Palace, where he says: “But Gabriel, what’s become of us? We’ve forgotten the kids we used to be”. But we [writers] know what kids they used to be, and we’d like to tell the story one day, to show what young kids they were, when they were struggling through Paris and weren’t yet what you’ve come to know in the series. He’s sad about what’s happening to his daughter [Chloe], and he’s trying to change it, but he can’t. He is proof that a character can change.”

This. This right here is what cinched it for me. I've tried for years not to say it because it's a word that has been flung around a lot over these last few years, but I feel like this little snippet is enough of a reason for me to say it.

These writers are sexist.

They may not believe it, but whether they intended for it or not, they wrote a story arc where a grown man was shown to have more sympathetic qualities than his daughter. How the hell can you defend it in a way that doesn't highlight the misogyny that this show runs on?

The fact that they gush over how much "potential" Andre had right after saying how that same kind of potential wasn't enough of a reason to attempt a redemption arc with Chloe really shows how confusing their priorities are. I'm sorry to keep saying this, but for a show that takes a heavy anti-capitalist philosophy, it seems like the members of the 1% are the characters who get the most depth and sympathy... unless you're under 18 and lack a Y chromosome, that is.

A meeting will be set up in the coming weeks to decide on whether or not to make a live-action for ‘Miraculous’, Thomas Astruc reveals.

As a former Arrowverse fan, I'm willing to see this out. Not only did the Netflix One Piece series prove you can make an animated property work in live-action, Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie managed to do really well even without the usual writers behind it.

Thomas when asked about Gabriel’s wish in ‘Re-Creation’ (5x26) and whether he brought Emilie back to life: “All the answers are in the episode.”

For the love of--STOP SAYING THAT!

You keep claiming that we just need to rewatch the episode to understand things, but between the continuity errors and abandoned subplots, it's hard to tell what's important and what isn't. Either say "No comment" or give us an honest answer.

If people are still confused about how the season ended after almost a year, and you keep giving answers like this:

Maybe you need to change the way you tell the story.

Astruc when asked about ‘The Supreme’: “Oh, if only you knew... Nothing we do is meaningless.”

Sebastien Thibadeau on Season 7: “Once you’ve seen the start of season 7, I can swear you’ll watch season 6 a second time. That’s all I can say.”

Because it'll make Season 6 look like a masterpiece by comparison?

Thomas Astruc on the worldbuilding: There are Kwamis and Renlings, what makes you think there aren’t others [creatures]?

I swear, by the time we get to Season 10, we're going to get stuff like aliens, demons and talking mushrooms, or at least something ludicrous like that.

Zoe had a love at first sight when she met Marinette in ‘Sole Crusher’ (4x07), they confirm.

Of course! That's why it wasn't framed any differently from something like the umbrella scene and Zoe showed absolutely no signs of attraction to Marinette! It's genius!

Executives had Thomas write several alternative concepts for ‘Miraculous’, very different from what we know today or even the early PV. Among them, “a concept where Ladybug is the head of a group of superheroines, like Sailor Moon. There was no love story.”

Can you imagine a world without the Love Square?

The script writers’ favorite episode is ‘Simpleman’ (4x19) as it represents a personal, work and family attachment. Marinette’s grandfather, Roland Dupain, is inspired by Thomas Astruc’s grandfather.

Okay, either Astruc had a complicated relationship with his grandpa or he's been dead for years. While I understand that older generations have outdated views (for example, my great-grandmother yelled at me for saying I wanted to learn Japanese because "They tried to kill us!"), the fact that a caricture of a grumpy old man was based on his grandpa is a little concerning.

Also, between this and Sabine being based off an old flame of his, this only makes the theory that Chloe is based off a real person Astruc knew more plausible.

Astruc: “This is why our work is so difficult. We have to manage to bring in this generation of younger ones, and at the same time, we have to satisfy the generation that was here before and that grows with the series.”

First, if you're trying to please older fans, maybe don't get into fights with them on Twitter.

Second, you made a thread after "Simpleman" aired where you insulted fans for not getting the "meta" element to the episode and compared them to the character you just said was based on your grandfather.

You've also been burning away a lot of the older fans' goodwill over the years. Trust me, I have a few examples.

Despite sharing a similar appearance, the symbol on Nino’s T-shirt is not related to Hack-San.

Okay, is this a fan theory I missed back when Season 4 was airing? Why would anyone draw that conclusion?

Thomas Astruc talks about Season 6: “I’ll say it sincerely, I was very doubtful at the end of Season 5. I said to myself: “if we were to continue, how would we exceed?” Well, we did. It’s been a great season. The new writers have brought us a lot of great stuff. All the episodes we’ve written in Season 6 are fabulous. Each episode is on point, there is no unnecessary lines. All the scenes are really interesting, really well-crafted.”

Translation: Tons of filler, bad comedy, reused Akumas, and more Love Square drama that we're trying to claim hasn't been done before.

Thomas when asked if Marinette will get akumatized: “We never give any information about what may or may not happen.”

JUST. SAY. NO. COMMENT.

There are many important details throughout the series that no one has noticed. Thomas says that when we see the next seasons, we’ll think, “Oh, the writers had it all planned.”

You know, like how Season 3 established that Sentimonsters can be sent out of control by Cataclysm a few episodes before Adrien, a Sentimonster, gets hit by a Cataclysm and is affected in a different way. It was all planned from the beginning.

The Ladybug PV was an animation test and was not intended to be public. Jeremy Zag decided to leak it himself.

Honestly? Dick move on Zag's part. You have to wonder how pissed off Astruc was.

According to Thomas Astruc, what the ‘Miraculous’ series is today represents only 5% of what he wrote in the original bible he presented to Jeremy Zag. “The universe has evolved a lot since. I don’t know if the ideas I put there will be reused someday. It was very extensive.”

Thomas Astruc and Sebastien Thibadeau discuss the parallels between Marinette and Gabriel: Astruc: “Gabriel’s personal back story is the cause of his misery, not his will. And above all, it creates a beautiful mirror with Marinette, which is what’s interesting. They both have a lot of love for Adrien, they’re both designers, they both have a Miraculous, but it’s other choices.” Thibadeau: “That’s what makes it a great hero-villain contrast. Even if they don’t know it from the start, they have a real point in common. As we see at the end of Season 5, they both love Adrien. Except there’s one who does it by doing the right thing, and then there’s another who does it by doing the wrong thing, hurting people, to get there.”

And the one who did the wrong thing by hurting people ended up winning. What does that say about the contrast?

------------------------------------------------------------------

And that's it for the interview. I have to say Season 6 does not look pretty so far.

[sophrosynesworld]

Just Friends?

actor!Katsuki x actress!Reader

The studio lights cast a warm glow over the set as the host welcomes everyone back from the commercial break. I stand in the wings, nervously fixing my hair. Katsuki stands beside me, unfazed by the upcoming interview. The audience buzzes with anticipation, eager to hear from us about our latest movie.

"Welcome back to the Midnight Mic, everyone!" Late-night talk show host Hizashi Yamada greets the crowd, his voice bouncing around the room, riling everyone up. "We have a great show lined up for you tonight, so don't leave your seats!" Hizashi walks from center stage over towards his desk, pulling out the chair before directing his attention towards the second camera.

"Tonight, we have some amazing guests. Please join me in welcoming two of the biggest stars on the silver screen, Katsuki Bakugo and his leading lady!"

The applause is deafening, and I can't help but smile. Katsuki gestures for me to walk out first, my heels clicking as I wave to the audience. It's instantly twenty degrees hotter as the stage lights beat down on me. I don’t have to look back to know when Bakugo follows; the crowd’s excitement peaks as he steps out, giving a casual nod, his usual confident demeanor softened by a playful smirk. He glances at me as we sit, leaning over to adjust my dress.

"It's great to have you both here," Hizashi begins, turning towards us. "You two have been the talk of the town with your new film. How's the stardom feel?"

Katsuki leans back in his chair, clearly relaxed. "It's been a wild ride," he admits, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Most of us have done fine with the publicity. My co-star, on the other hand," he jokes, nodding towards me, "couldn't handle the heat at first."

I laugh, covering my red cheeks before nudging him playfully. "Yeah, this is just my first major hit. I wasn't used to the more persistent fans. This has been a wonderful experience though. The entire crew has really bonded over the last twenty weeks.

Our host raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "You seem to have a great dynamic, both on and off screen. What's it like working together?"

I glance at Katsuki, who gives me a look that says, "Go ahead." I smile and turn back towards Hizashi. "It's honestly been amazing. I don’t think Katsuki liked me very much in the beginning—"

“I didn’t.”

"—but I finally wore him down enough to tolerate me." I laugh, swatting his arm away while crossing my legs. "He’ll never admit it, but we clicked right away. It'll inflate his ego, but he's won three Oscars for a reason." I laugh lightly, smiling at the memories.

Katsuki grins, crossing his arms. "She’s being modest. I've won 4." The crowd laughs as he changes the conversation. "Honestly, she's the best costar I've had in a while. She's going to kill me during the nominations this year. I mean, there was this one scene where she just—"

"Oh, no, not this story," I interject, laughing.

He chuckles, ignoring my protests. "We're filming this one scene with all these seasoned professionals, folks who have been in this business for decades." He pauses, looking at me. "They had to rewrite the first version of the scene because her acting was so horrifyingly raw and realistic that it traumatized the crew. They thought she was actually dying."

Our host leans in, clearly shocked. "Are you going to tell us more? You can't leave us with crumbs!"

Katsuki shakes his head, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. "Definitely not. You'll have to see it in theaters to find out."

I shake my head sheepishly. "I don't even know if they left it in or not. They told me to act, so I did."

"This is why I love you guys. You're always so honest about your lives." Hizashi grins. Now, I hate to gossip, but there's been a lot of questions about your off-screen relationship. Care to clear up the rumors?"

Katsuki and I exchange a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between us. I decide to answer, leaning forward slightly. "We have a really close friendship. We're both super passionate about our work and love what we do, which makes working together even better. We definitely have a flirty friendship, but it's all in good fun."

Katsuki nods, his expression softening. "Yeah, she's great. We just get each other, you know? It's easy to be around her, whether we're on set or just hanging out."

Hizashi smiles, clearly enjoying our interview. "Well, it's clear that you two have a special connection. Before we go, is there anything you'd like to say to your fans?"

I turn to the camera, feeling a wave of gratitude. "Just a huge thank you to all the fans for their amazing support. This entire experience has been mind-blowing, and I can't wait for everyone to see it. We hope you love it as much as we do."

Katsuki chimes in with a grin. "Yeah, thanks for sticking with us, extras. Our new movie comes out in theaters September 22nd!"

The audience laughs and claps, clearly enjoying their money spent. Hizashi wraps up our segment, and as the band leads us to commercial, Katsuki leans over, nudging me gently. "You did great," he murmurs, a genuine smile on his face.

I grin back at him. "You weren't too bad yourself," I tease, standing up and heading back towards the green room, waving goodbye to some of our fans in the audience.

Katsuki is quick to follow, his steps only a few paces behind mine, practically pushing my bodyguard out of the way. I open the door and sit down on the oversized couch. Katsuki follows my lead, plopping himself close to me. His large hands almost instantly wrap around me, lifting me up and pulling me into his chest. I straddle him, our bodies dangerously close together.

"Just friends?" Suki whispers, his lips grazing mine as he looks at me.

"Just friends," I reply, the words soft and delicate as my freshly polished fingers wrap around the fabric of his shirt, closing the distance between us.

Authors Note: I'm obsessed with this idea and could probably write 200 of these little one shots.

[outsideratheart]

41 with Alexia

41 //looking at their lips as they talk// 

The sun shon bright in the Barcelona sky as you stood pitch side ready to report on the infamous El Classico. It was a match that you loved to play in but you picked up a serious ankle injury a couple of months ago and you weren’t quite fit to play or even to train yet.

5-0 was the end result yet throughout the halftime and post match media you tried your best to remain fair even though everybody knew you bled Blaugrana.

Like always the team did a lap of the pitch. You knew they were getting close as the fans behind the camera erupted, all of them wanting a shirt signed or a photo with their favourite player. So whilst you did expect to see one or maybe two of your team mates what you didn’t expect was to feel a hand of the small of your back and the sight of Alexia standing next to you. Here she was, the woman who hated doing media with every fibre of her being, voluntarily giving an interview.

“Ladies and Gentleman, La Reina herself”

The use of the nickname she loved to hate earned you a playful shove.

One of the official presenters made the most of having both you and Alexia in an interview given that you hadn’t done for in months. Much to you surprise Alexia was in a chatty mood and you spent most of the interview taking in her beauty. It wasn’t a huge secret that you and her were dating but you never got round to doing a hard launch so to say.

You notice some of Alexia’s hair fall in front of her face so as if by instinct you place it gently behind her ear. This earns you a look off Alexia as if saying are you going to do what happens next when you do this at home. It’s safe to say the thought did cross your mind but you knew now wasn’t the time or place. It didn’t stop you from glancing down at her lips as she spoke about how proud she is of the team. Her passion is one of the things you loved most about her and you know the look in your eyes will show this but you didn’t mind.

Alexia’s hand squeezes your hip, an act which she knows will earn a reaction given you’re ticklish.

“Que?”

“La pregunta?”

You turn your attention to the presenter and it’s clear she asked you question.

“Lo siento” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Alexia gave us everything we need about the game and I’m sure you gave us enough material to make the fans happy”

You both thank the presenter and Alexia waits whilst you give back your mic pack. The two of you are some of the last players on the pitch and walk into the tunnel together. Even though you weren’t playing you did plan on joining in on the locker room celebration but just before you reach the door Alexia grabs your wrist and pulls you back to her.

“What?”

“I thought maybe you wanted to look at my lips some more seen as though you refused to look at anything else out there”

“Why you got to call me out like that?”

“I’m not. I’m simply giving you a chance to do something other than stare”

Alexia’s lips was on yours before you had to chance to reply. She has you pinned against the wall with no care in the world who could see you. Alexia rested one hand against the wall beside your head and her other grabbed your hip. Yours travelled up her back beneath her loosely fitted leather jacket.

For a brief moment you forget where you were and when you felt Alexia’s tongue brush against you lips you allowed her entry.

“Well well well, look what we have here. Our dear captains the celebration are in the locker room but I can see that you are having a very good time out here in the hallway” Mapi says rather smugly.

“Leave them alone Maria” Ingrid pushes her towards the locker room “Not that I want to interrupt but the rest of the team is on there way so you might want to go somewhere else if you want to continue”

All three of you begin laughing at the situation and whilst you wanted nothing more than to pick you where you were before getting interrupted, you knew that it was best to be done at home away from prying eyes and teasing team mates.