#milas airport

[izmircar]

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı - Ege’nin Kalbine Açılan Kapı

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, Ege Bölgesi'nin en gözde tatil destinasyonlarından biri olan Bodrum'a hizmet veren önemli bir uluslararası havalimanıdır. Hem iç hatlar hem de dış hatlar uçuşlarıyla bölgeye gelen turistler için büyük bir ulaşım kolaylığı sunan havalimanı, Bodrum Yarımadası’na ve çevresindeki popüler turistik bölgelere hızlı ve rahat bir erişim sağlar. Muğla ilinin Milas ilçesi sınırları içerisinde yer alan havalimanı, Bodrum’a 36 km, Milas merkezine ise 17 km uzaklıktadır. Bu stratejik konum, turistlerin hem Bodrum’un ünlü plajlarına hem de Milas’ın tarihi zenginliklerine kolayca ulaşabilmesini sağlar. 1997 yılında faaliyete geçen Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, özellikle yaz aylarında yoğun bir ziyaretçi akınına uğrar ve bölgenin turizm kapasitesini karşılamak için önemli bir rol oynar. Havalimanı, yaz sezonunda gelen yerli ve yabancı turistlerin Bodrum’un hareketli gece hayatına, tarihi kalıntılarına ve göz alıcı koylarına rahatça erişim sağlamasına olanak tanır. Aynı zamanda, antik kentler ve doğal güzellikleriyle ünlü Milas’a yakınlığı sayesinde tarih ve doğa tutkunları için de cazip bir ulaşım noktasıdır.

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı Ulaşım Seçenekleri

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı'ndan çevredeki turistik bölgelere ulaşım için bir çok seçenek mevcuttur. Havalimanı ile Bodrum şehir merkezi arasında otobüs, minibüs ve taksi gibi toplu taşıma araçları düzenli olarak sefer yapmaktadır. Bunun yanı sıra, havalimanında özel transfer hizmetleri sunan firmalar da mevcuttur. Bodrum’a ulaşım genellikle trafik yoğunluğuna bağlı olarak 40-45 dakika arasında sürüyor. Milas ise havalimanına oldukça yakın; buraya ulaşmak genellikle sadece 15 dakika alıyor. Havalimanı, D330 karayolu üzerinde yer almakta olup, araç kiralama hizmeti ile bölgeyi keşfetmek isteyen ziyaretçiler için oldukça elverişli bir konumda bulunmaktadır.

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’ndan Başlayan Keşif: Ege’nin Saklı Güzelliklerine Yolculuk

Ege’nin gözde tatil bölgelerinden Bodrum ve çevresini keşfetmek isteyenler için Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, ideal bir başlangıç noktasıdır. Hem modern hizmetleri hem de bölgenin turistik destinasyonlarına kolay erişim sağlamasıyla öne çıkan havalimanı, seyahatlerinizi konforlu hale getirir. Yaz sezonunun yoğunluğunda dahi sunduğu rahat deneyim, hem yurtiçi hem de yurtdışı uçuşlarla bölgeye gelen ziyaretçilere keyifli bir ulaşım imkânı sunar.

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı Hizmet ve Olanakları

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, ziyaretçilerine birçok konforlu hizmet sunmaktadır. İç ve dış hatlar terminalinde çeşitli restoranlar, kafeler ve alışveriş noktaları yer alır. Yolcular, duty-free mağazalarında vergi avantajıyla alışveriş yapabilirken, VIP salonlarda konforlu bir bekleme deneyimi yaşayabilirler. Ücretsiz Wi-Fi hizmeti, mobil cihazlar için şarj istasyonları ve bebek bakım odaları da havalimanının sunduğu diğer olanaklar arasındadır. Ayrıca, acil bir sağlık ihtiyacı durumunda sağlık hizmetlerine ve eczanelere erişim mümkündür. Havalimanında bagaj hizmetleri ve güvenlik kontrolleri, yüksek standartlarda ve hızlı hizmet vermektedir.

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na Yakın Turistik Noktalar

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, yalnızca Bodrum’un kalbine değil, aynı zamanda çevresindeki birçok büyüleyici turistik destinasyona da kolay erişim sağlar. Havalimanına iniş yaptıktan sonra kısa sürede Bodrum Yarımadası’nın en popüler ve cazip beldelerine ulaşabilir, Ege’nin doğal güzellikleri ile tarihi zenginliklerini keşfetmeye başlayabilirsiniz. İster sakin plajlarda dinlenmek isteyin, ister lüks mekanlarda keyifli vakit geçirin, Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı bu deneyimlere hızlı ve kolay ulaşım imkanı sunar. İşte bu havalimanından kısa sürede ulaşabileceğiniz bazı popüler destinasyonlar:

Yalıkavak: Bodrum’un Prestijli Beldesi

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın kuzeybatısında yer alan Yalıkavak, modern marinası ve muhteşem rüzgar gülleriyle tanınan bir beldedir. Bodrum’un lüks yaşam tarzını yansıtan bir beldesi olan Yalıkavak, yat limanı ve şık mekanları ile özellikle yaz aylarında hareketli bir atmosfere sahiptir. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 53 km mesafede bulunan Yalıkavak’a, havalimanından araçla yaklaşık 50 dakikada ulaşabilirsiniz.

Torba: Havalimanına En Yakın Plaj

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın doğusunda yer alan Torba, Bodrum Havalimanı’na en yakın beldelerden biridir. Havalimanına yalnızca 32 km uzaklıkta olup, arabayla yaklaşık 30 dakikada ulaşılabilir. Sessiz ve sakin plajları, berrak denizi ve huzurlu atmosferiyle Torba, dinlenmek isteyen tatilciler için ideal bir destinasyondur.

Göltürkbükü: Lüksün Adresi

Göltürkbükü, Bodrum’un kuzey sahilinde yer alan ve lüks otelleri, restoranları ve ünlü beach clublarıyla bilinen popüler bir tatil beldesidir. Hem yerli hem de yabancı turistlerin gözdesi olan bu bölge, Bodrum’un daha lüks ve sofistike tarafını keşfetmek isteyenler için mükemmel bir tercihtir. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na 44 km uzaklıkta yer alan bu bölgeye, araçla yaklaşık 45 dakikalık bir yolculukla ulaşmak mümkündür.

Güvercinlik: Havalimanına En Yakın Sahil Kasabası

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın girişinde bulunan Güvercinlik, Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na en yakın turistik beldelerden biridir. Sadece 20 km mesafede yer alan Güvercinlik’e araçla yaklaşık 15 dakikada ulaşabilirsiniz. Burası sakin ve huzurlu sahil kasabası atmosferiyle ön plana çıkar. Ziyaretçilerine doğal güzellikler sunan bu kasaba, deniz kenarında keyifli bir kaçamak için ideal bir duraktır.

Mazı Köyü: Bodrum Yarımadası’nın Bakir Güzelliği

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın güneydoğusunda yer alan Mazı Köyü, doğal güzellikleri korunmuş ve sakinliğiyle bilinen bir bölgedir. Bu köy, el değmemiş plajları ve huzurlu atmosferiyle doğayla iç içe bir tatil arayanların favorisi haline gelmiştir. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 40 km uzaklıkta olup, yaklaşık 1 saatlik bir araç yolculuğu ile ulaşılabilir.

Bitez: Su Sporları ve Geniş Plajları ile Ünlü

Bodrum’un merkezine oldukça yakın olan Bitez, geniş plajları ve su sporları olanaklarıyla bilinen bir sahil beldesidir. Rüzgar sörfü ve diğer su sporları meraklıları için ideal olan Bitez, Bodrum’un en sevilen plajlarından birine ev sahipliği yapar. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 42 km uzaklıktadır ve araçla yaklaşık 40 dakikada ulaşılabilir.

Turgutreis: Gün Batımının En Güzel İzleneceği Yer

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın batı ucunda bulunan Turgutreis, güneşin batışını izlemek için en güzel noktalardan biri olarak bilinir. Sahil boyunca sıralanan restoranları ve Turgutreis Marinası ile bölge, hem deniz tutkunları hem de romantik günbatımı manzaraları arayanlar için vazgeçilmezdir. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 55 km mesafede yer alır ve arabayla yaklaşık 50 dakikada ulaşılabilir.

Ortakent: Bodrum’un Otantik Yüzü

Bodrum’un en eski yerleşim yerlerinden biri olan Ortakent, sakin plajları ve mandalina bahçeleriyle ünlüdür. Bodrum’un otantik atmosferini yaşamak isteyenler için ideal bir duraktır. Hem sessiz bir tatil arayanlara hem de su sporları yapmak isteyenlere hitap eden bu belde, Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 44 km uzaklıktadır ve araçla yaklaşık 40 dakikada ulaşılabilir.

Akyarlar: Rüzgar Sörfü Cenneti

Bodrum Yarımadası’nın güneybatısında yer alan Akyarlar, özellikle rüzgar sörfü tutkunları için bir cennet olarak bilinir. Tertemiz denizi, rüzgarlı yapısı ve sakin plajlarıyla huzurlu bir tatil arayanların uğrak noktasıdır. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 60 km uzaklıkta bulunan Akyarlar, araçla yaklaşık 1 saatlik bir yolculuk mesafesindedir.

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na Yakın Konaklama Hizmetleri

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’na yaklaşık 15 km mesafede çeşitli otel seçenekleri mevcuttur. Bu oteller, özellikle kısa süreli konaklama arayan ziyaretçiler için havalimanına yakınlığıyla ideal bir çözüm sunar. Havalimanına yakın konumlanan bu otellerin çoğu, misafirlerine kolay ulaşım imkanı sağlayan shuttle servis hizmeti sunmaktadır. Bunun yanı sıra, erken check-in ve geç check-out gibi esneklikler de sunarak konforlu bir konaklama deneyimi sağlarlar. Ziyaretçiler, havalimanı yakınındaki bu otellerde dinlenerek seyahatlerini planlarken, transfer hizmetleriyle ulaşımlarını rahatlıkla organize edebilirler.

Bodrum’da Seyahat Etmenin En Rahat Yolu: Araç Kiralama Hizmeti

Havalimanında bulunan araç kiralama ofisleri, ziyaretçilere geniş bir yelpazede hizmet sunar. Ekonomik araçlardan lüks modellere kadar farklı seçenekler, her türlü tatil planına uyum sağlar. Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’ndan aracınızı kiralayarak, Bodrum’un hareketli merkezi, Milas’ın tarihi yerleri ve çevredeki sakin koylar gibi bölgenin güzelliklerini özgürce keşfedebilirsiniz. Kiralık araçlar, bölgenin şık plajlarına ulaşmayı, Bodrum’un enerjik atmosferinde dolaşmayı veya Milas’ın otantik köylerini ziyaret etmeyi kolaylaştırır. Bu hizmet, tatil boyunca hareket özgürlüğü sağlayarak, ziyaretçilerin seyahatlerini daha esnek ve keyifli hale getirir.

Unutulmaz Bir Yolculuk İçin Konforlu Bir Başlangıç

Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı, sadece ulaşım noktası olmanın ötesinde, sunduğu araç kiralama hizmetleri ile bölgenin doğal güzelliklerini ve tarihi zenginliklerini keşfetmek için ideal bir çözüm sunar. Kiraladığınız araçla havalimanından çıkar çıkmaz tatilinize başlayabilir, gizli kalmış köylere ve eşsiz manzaralara kolayca ulaşabilirsiniz. Bu sayede seyahatiniz boyunca her anı daha rahat ve unutulmaz kılabilirsiniz. Ege’nin büyüleyici güzelliklerini keşfetmek için Milas-Bodrum Havalimanı’ndan başlayarak, hem keyifli hem de özgür bir tatil deneyimi yaşayabilirsiniz.

[suetravelblog]

Datça Turkey 2020

Lunch Stop Datça has changed considerably since my previous visit in 2013, but it’s still the same beautiful coastal city! The clean crisp air is wonderful – an ultra-healthy living environment. My apartment is in a great location for exploring and has a view of the Marina and gorgeous blue Aegean Sea. I’ll be in a daze for a while. Familiar Scene in Datça No English Turkish business people can…

[bodrum-vip-transfer]

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

(prev | next)

Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

SEE NOTES ABOUT TAG LISTS BELOW:

general tag list (open, tagged in all my fics, will not update for this series. If you'd like to be added to my general list FOR this series, let me know and I'll tag you in the comments!

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins

series specific tag (closed BUT SEE BELOW!!)

@nikfigueiredo @ilovechickenwings @supertrashbread @sltwins @mwuaferrari @si1ver06 @linnygirl09 @kikiki81 @kittylolly4 @lazybot @tylerstacobell @formula1fordisaster @sheblogs @suns3treading @kqliie @jxnellat @anxiousbananna @hard4ndsoft @majasophieanna @diorbrxtz @freyathehuntress @obxstiles @cstads-blog @wierdflowerpower @delululeclerc @honethatty12 @henna006 @chlmtfilms @littlegrapejuice @piastrams @ravisinghs-wife @sturmatt @sagestack @bravo-delta-eccho @eiffel-hood @widow-cevans @ash88-yep @emryb @changetyre @raynetargaryan2 @callsignsiren @mayusaatma @sid-is-gr8  @awritingtree @urstepdaughter @4-ln4

TO BE TAGGED IN COMMENTS OF EACH NEW CHAPTER:

@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space. 

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real. 

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed. 

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands. 

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.” 

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

[iamquiantrelle]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS (chapter 2)──────iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : jules koundé x black oc (fc: mimajhn)

⌗ tags : @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @greedyjudge2 @f1-football-fiend @2serenity0 @peyiswriting @coffeevacation @sunfairyy @bbgkoo @127hydrangeas @kj77

⌗ summary : jules is focused on himself — no girlfriend, no drama — but now he seems to have both after pictures of him having fun at a friend's house party shows up in tabloids, and now fashion houses are calling for him? and his agent wants him to keep up this charade? ♡ masterlist. (✨💕)

Mila's first PTO request in eight months had her manager looking at her like she'd lost it. But after that McDonald's photo turned their store into a tourist attraction for football fans, no one argued when she said she needed a few days off.

The first-class seat to Barcelona was courtesy of Jules' management team - apparently fake girlfriends don't fly economy. She'd packed light: two archive-worthy reconstructed LV pieces (that may or may not have been strictly approved), a few vintage finds, and her iPad full of design sketches she could actually produce now that she had official backing.

Her phone hadn't stopped since she posted a cryptic airport story. The comments were wild: "BARCELONA?? 👀" "omg she's going to see him" "peep the LV luggage, she stays on brand"

A text from Jules broke through the notification chaos: "sent a car for you. driver's got strict instructions not to let any paparazzi follow you to the hotel"

Of course there were paparazzi. Three days ago she was just the mean stylist at Galeries Lafayette who kept going viral for roasting rich people's fashion choices. Now she was getting papped at Charles de Gaulle at seven in the morning on a Tuesday.

"your fans are insane," she texted back. "someone already found my flight number"

Jules (Da Boo): welcome to the circus 😮‍💨 see you in an hour? we've got a strategy meeting with PR at 11

Mila leaned back in her seat, watching Paris disappear beneath the clouds. A week ago she was dealing with entitled clients and corporate bureaucracy. Now she was flying to Barcelona to plan a fake relationship with a footballer who actually had decent taste in vintage Prada.

Her life was starting to sound like one of those Wattpad stories her sister was always reading.

The car Jules sent was waiting as promised. The driver held up a sign with "M. Paris" instead of her real name, which was probably smart given the number of phones already pointing her way.

Her hotel room was bigger than her Paris apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Barcelona, and someone (definitely Jules) had filled the closet with fresh flowers and a handwritten note: "in case you need more material to roast my fashion choices - see you at 11."

Mila took a quick shower, changing into one of her reconstructed pieces - a vintage LV blazer she'd transformed into a dress that corporate would definitely not approve of. Her phone buzzed with another text from Jules: "paparazzi already outside the hotel. ready to start the show?"

She checked her reflection one last time. The Barcelona sun made her brown skin glow. She'd let her hair stay straight but added some extra curl to the ends, the way she wore it when she first met Jules at the store. Her makeup was editorial but not trying too hard - she had a reputation to maintain after all.

"let's give them something to talk about" she texted back, grabbing her bag.

The hotel lobby was suspicious - too many people pretending to read newspapers while holding phones at weird angles. The PR team had suggested they get photographed "accidentally" meeting for breakfast before the strategy session. Make it look natural, they said. As if anything about this situation was natural.

She spotted Jules immediately. He was failing to look casual in the hotel's cafe, wearing a vintage YSL sweater she'd actually complimented once (not that she'd remind him). The whispers and phone cameras followed her path to his table.

"That dress is definitely not LV approved," he said instead of hello, standing to kiss her cheek for the cameras. His cologne was unfairly good.

"Neither is this fake dating scenario but here we are." She sat down, noting how he pulled her chair out just enough to make it look practiced. "Nice sweater. Finally learning how to dress yourself?"

"You literally picked this out."

"Did I? Must not have been one of your tragic days then."

The cameras were definitely getting all this. She could already see the headlines: "Fashion's New It Couple Share Intimate Breakfast." At least Jules knew how to sit for good angles - some of her clients at the store could never.

"You good?" he asked, sliding a coffee her way. Oat milk latte, exactly how she took it. He'd been paying attention during their store conversations.

"Yeah, though I have questions about this PR team of yours. Their PowerPoint had more transitions than a 2005 presentation."

Jules laughed, and Mila caught herself thinking it sounded even better in person than over the phone. The cameras definitely caught that too - her genuine smile, the way he leaned in closer.

"They have a whole mood board for us," he said, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "Apparently we need to 'cultivate an aesthetic of playful antagonism with underlying romantic tension.'"

"So just keep doing what we've been doing, but add hand-holding?"

"And maybe fewer public roasts about my shoe choices."

"No promises on that one, babe." The pet name rolled off her tongue easily, perfectly timed as someone definitely not-subtle-enough took a photo.

Her phone was already blowing up. Her sister had sent approximately 47 messages in all caps. The LV corporate account had gained 10k followers in an hour.

Jules' hand found hers across the table, a practiced move that looked natural enough to fuel a week's worth of Twitter theories. "Having second thoughts?"

Mila thought about her design sketches upstairs, the archive access waiting in Paris, the way her follower count had tripled since that McDonald's photo. Then she looked at Jules - annoying, handsome, surprisingly fashion-competent Jules - and the way he was trying not to smile too wide for the cameras.

"Please," she squeezed his hand just enough to make it look real. "I'm just getting started."

Breakfast wrapped with enough staged candid moments to keep social media fed for days. Outside, Jules' Lamborghini Urus was waiting, because of course it was.

"Really? A Urus?" Mila raised an eyebrow. "How very new money footballer of you."

"Wow, okay," Jules shot back, "you're standing there in your bougie little sunglasses and Capucine bag judging my car choices?"

Mila pulled down her sunglasses, looking at him over the rim. "Not our first lovers' spat..."Jules opened his mouth - to retort or apologize, she couldn't tell - but she cut him off. "I'm fucking with you. Chill." She pulled the door open and slid inside, immediately hit by the clean leather smell and pristine peanut butter colored seats. "Cute."

Jules got in the driver's seat, starting the car with a rev that was absolutely unnecessary but admittedly hot. He pulled out into Barcelona traffic with one hand on the wheel, all casual confidence and big dick energy that she refused to be affected by. His full lips were pursed in concentration, focused on the road ahead.

"Why are you single?" The question left her mouth before she could stop it.

He cut his eyes at her briefly, shooting her a 'what the fuck' look. "What?"

"Why. Are. You. Single?" She repeated slowly, deliberately sarcastic. "Or should I speak French instead?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Parlez-vous bien le français?" The words rolled off his tongue smoothly, his native accent making something flutter in her stomach that she immediately shut down.

Oh hell no, her thoughts protested.

"Je parle bien," she responded coolly. "So the reason you're single?"

Jules took a smooth turn before answering. "Focused on my career. Not trying to be another footballer stereotype." He glanced at her. "Why are you?"

"Too busy roasting rich people's fashion choices to date." Mila adjusted her sunglasses. "Plus the people at Galeries Lafayette are either trust fund babies or married to trust fund babies."

"And footballers?"

"Are you fishing for compliments right now?"

The Urus purred as Jules accelerated, weaving through traffic with irritating skill. "Just trying to figure out if my fake girlfriend actually likes me or just my access to the archives."

"The archives are definitely in my top three reasons," Mila smirked. "Your natural teeth are up there too."

"My what?"

"Do you know how rare it is to find a footballer with his original teeth? No veneers, no ultra-white chiclet smile. It's refreshing."

Jules' laugh filled the car. "You've really thought about this."

"I work in luxury fashion. Footballers and their WAGs are half my client base. Trust me, I've seen every variation of the Instagram Face possible."

They pulled up to a sleek building that screamed 'expensive PR firm.' Through the glass doors, Mila could see Bruno, Jules' agent, pacing in the lobby. He was exactly what she'd expected from their phone calls - tall, perpetually stressed-looking Italian man in his forties, wearing a suit that she could tell at a glance needed better tailoring. His Rolex was real though, and his shoes were Berluti - at least he had some taste.

"Ready to plan our love story?" Jules killed the engine but didn't move to get out.

"Ready to convince your agent I'm not going to ruin your pristine image with my brutal honesty?" Mila countered.

"Bruno's already convinced you're the best thing to happen to my brand since I signed with Barcelona." Jules reached over, adjusting her blazer slightly. The gesture felt weirdly intimate. "Apparently my engagement is up 400% since McDonald's."

"What can I say? People love a good roast."

"Is that what we're calling this?"

Mila caught his eye, noticed how the Spanish sun through the windshield made his skin glow. "We're calling this a mutually beneficial business arrangement. With occasional hand-holding."

"And French pet names?"

"Don't push it, chéri." She grabbed her bag, ignoring how his smile widened at the nickname. "Let's go plan our fake romance before Bruno has an aneurysm."

Through the glass, they could see Bruno now gesturing wildly at a presentation screen. Several PR people were nodding along, one frantically taking notes.

"Ten euros says there's a slide about our 'coupled aesthetic journey,'" Jules said as they got out of the car.

"Twenty says they've already planned our Paris Fashion Week debut."

"You're on." He offered his hand to help her up the steps. "After you, chérie."

"Such a gentleman," Mila rolled her eyes but took his hand anyway. "Almost makes up for the Urus."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Are you ever going to admit it's a basic choice?"

Bruno spotted them through the glass, his face lighting up like they were his winning lottery ticket. Which, given the media frenzy around them, they kind of were.

"The PR team made a mood board," Jules murmured as they reached the door. "Try not to roast it too hard."

"No promises." Mila straightened her shoulders, sliding seamlessly into the role of fashion's favorite mean girl who'd somehow fallen for football's best-dressed player.

The conference room had modern art pieces that Mila could tell were bought to impress rather than for actual appreciation. Bruno practically bounced as they entered, his Berluti shoes squeaking against the polished floor.

"The power couple has arrived!" He gestured to two seats at the head of the table. "Please, sit. We have so much to discuss."

Mila caught Jules suppressing an eye roll as they sat. The PR team - three women and two men all wearing variations of the same sleek business casual outfit - were staring at them like they were rare specimens in a zoo.

"First," Bruno clicked to his first slide, "let me present 'The Evolution of Fashion's Favorite Romance.'"

"You owe me ten euros," Jules whispered. The slide literally had "Coupled Aesthetic Journey" as a subtitle.

"Now," Bruno continued, "we've mapped out your relationship timeline. The McDonald's photo? Perfect organic start. But we need to build on that authenticity."

The next slide showed a calendar that made Mila's eyebrows shoot up. Paris Fashion Week appearances, "candid" shopping trips, carefully planned coffee dates, match day arrivals coordinated down to their accessories.

"You owe me twenty," Mila muttered. Fashion Week in January was highlighted in bright red.

One of the PR women - Mila clocked her Chanel brooch as last season - leaned forward. "We're thinking of playing up the 'fashion critic meets football star' angle. The public loves your dynamic."

"The witty banter on social media," another PR person chimed in, pulling up screenshots of their past interactions. "The style evolution documented on Mila's blog. It's perfect enemies-to-lovers material."

Jules choked on his water.

"Speaking of social media," Bruno clicked to another slide titled 'Strategic Digital Romance,' "we need to discuss your posting schedule. Nothing too obvious, but we want to maintain consistent couple content."

"Couple content?" Mila raised an eyebrow.

"You know, morning coffee photos, subtle background appearances in each other's stories, maybe some playful commentary on Jules' match day fits…"

"So exactly what we've been doing, but now with a relationship tag?" Jules asked, looking amused.

"Precisely! But with more…" Bruno waved his hands expressively, his Rolex catching the light, "romantic undertones."

The presentation continued - slides about "leveraging their fashion influence," "maintaining authentic interactions," and a whole section about their supposed meet-cute story at Louis Vuitton.

"We need to workshop the details," one PR guy said earnestly. "When exactly did you first feel the attraction? Was it during a particular styling session? The public wants these intimate moments."

Mila caught Jules' eye. He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"What about the McDonald's night?" The Chanel brooch woman asked. "How did that spontaneous moment happen? We should align our narratives."

"Oh, I can answer that," Mila smiled sweetly. "I was hungry, Jules was there, and someone had a camera. Very romantic."

Bruno's face fell slightly. "Maybe we can embellish that a bit…"

"The truth isn't Instagram enough?" Jules asked innocently.

"We just want to ensure the story resonates," Bruno recovered quickly. "Now, about your first official appearance together - we're thinking the charity gala next week. Mila, we'll need you to coordinate your outfit with Jules' team colors…"

Mila's phone buzzed. A text from Jules: "they planned our entire relationship down to our instagram filters 💀"

She typed back: "bold of them to assume I'm wearing team colors"

"Now," Bruno clicked to yet another slide, this one titled 'Public Displays of Affection Guidelines,' "let's discuss appropriate couple behaviors…"

Jules' next text: "20 euros says you roast their suggested pose chart"

Mila bit back a smile: "40 says Bruno has a powerpoint about our future breakup too"

"And lastly," Bruno clasped his hands together, looking oddly pleased with himself, "we've arranged for your belongings to be moved from the hotel to Jules' house—"

"Excuse me?" Mila straightened in her chair.

"It's a bit strange for you to be at a hotel when your boyfriend has a perfectly good home," Bruno explained. "The guest room is lovely, I'm not suggesting you need to sleep together… unless of course you want to." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm all for a little kiss here and there but I'm drawing the line at snu snu."

"Snu snu?" Jules doubled over laughing, actually laughing, and Mila shot him a death glare.

"I mean it is a better name for it obviously. Should I just say fuck then?"

"Now, let's not use that word—" Chanel brooch woman began, clutching her outdated accessory.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Mila counted off on her fingers. "We're all adults here. I'm sure everyone got fucked at least once in their lives, but yeah, no deal."

Bruno looked like he was getting an ulcer. The PR team was frantically scribbling notes, probably adding 'manages crude language' to their strategy deck.

"Besides," Mila added sweetly, "what would the internet think? Moving in together after one viral McDonald's photo? That's giving desperate."

"But if we established a timeline of when you two began dating, isn't it normal to spend a weekend at your boyfriend's?" one of the PR guys leaned forward.

"He has a point," Jules concurred.

Mila's head snapped toward him so fast that her sunglasses nearly flew off. Benedict Arnold has entered the chat, apparently. They were supposed to be on the same page - at least that's what she assumed.

Guess the fuck not, she thought.

She inhaled a deep, steady breath and looked Jules right in the eye. When she spoke, it was in perfect French, her voice deadly calm:

"Écoute-moi bien. Je ne suis pas du tout à l'aise de rester chez toi. On se connaît à peine, et je suis ça proche," she held up her thumb and forefinger with barely a millimeter between them, "de tout laisser tomber. Je pensais qu'on était d'accord sur les limites, mais apparemment, tu as d'autres idées." (Listen carefully. I am not at all comfortable staying at your place. We barely know each other, and I am this close to dropping everything. I thought we agreed on boundaries, but apparently, you have other ideas.)

The PR team watched their exchange like a tennis match, even though none of them seemed to understand French. Bruno was the only one nodding along, probably mentally calculating how to spin this tension for the media.

Jules let out a groan and his eyes twinkled with something she couldn't place. Her gaze watched intently as he licked his lips - wow, not sexy at all - and he placed both hands on the table. "Mila, s'il vous plaît." She shook her head stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. Then Jules did the one thing that made every fashion girlie perk up almost instantaneously. "I'll take you shopping."

Because yeah, she was a slut for shopping. I mean what girl wasn't? And besides, she had her eye on this new Fendi bag she spotted last week, and part of her new 'duties' as a fake girlfriend was making his pockets hurt, wasn't it?

"Budget?" she asked stoically.

"What budget?" he retorted with a grin showing all of his thirty-two natural teeth.

Good answer.

"Deal," she said, uncrossing her arms. "But if you do anything weird—"

"I know, I know. You're done."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Bruno clapped his hands together. "Now that's settled, let's discuss your first shopping appearance. We need to capitalize on this organic moment—"

"No." Mila and Jules said simultaneously.

"The shopping stays off social," Mila added. "I'm not having my Fendi moment ruined by paparazzi."

"But think of the engagement—" Chanel brooch started.

"You'll get plenty of engagement from whatever we decide to buy," Jules cut in smoothly. "But the actual shopping? That's private."

Mila shot him a surprised look. Maybe Benedict Arnold had some redeeming qualities after all.

"Fine, fine," Bruno conceded, though he was already typing something in his phone. "Let's wrap up with the charity gala details next week. Mila, we'll need you to—"

"I'll handle our looks," she interrupted. "That's non-negotiable."

"But the team colors—"

"Will be incorporated tastefully," she assured him with zero intention of doing so. "Now, if we're done here, I believe I was promised some retail therapy?"

Jules checked his watch - Audemars Piguet, she noted approvingly. "Stores close in three hours."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Mila stood, gathering her Capucine. "Bruno, send me the presentation. I'll review the PDA guidelines while Jules tries to talk me out of bankrupting him."

"Bankrupt?" Jules raised an eyebrow, already standing.

"Oh honey," she patted his chest as she walked past, making sure the PR team caught the casual intimacy, "that was before I remembered how you insulted my bougie sunglasses earlier."

She heard him groan behind her. "So everything I say comes with a price?"

"Now you're getting it." She pushed the conference room door open. "Coming?"

Bruno was practically vibrating with joy as they left, probably already drafting tweets about their playful banter. The PR team had their heads together, no doubt planning how to spin their shopping trip even without photos.

In the hallway, Jules caught up to her in two long strides. "You're really going to make me pay for that comment?"

"Obviously." She adjusted her sunglasses. "But if you're lucky, I might let you hold the shopping bags."

His laugh echoed through the lobby. "You're evil."

"And yet you just gave me unlimited shopping access." She headed for the Urus, already mentally cataloging which stores to hit first. "Who's really the evil one here?"

The Urus weaved through Barcelona's streets, probably attracting more attention than either of them needed right now. Jules kept stealing glances at Mila while she pretended to be fascinated by the passing scenery.

"Your French is really good," he said finally, breaking their comfortable silence.

Mila didn't look away from the window. "Should be. Spent enough time perfecting it to sound like a national." A pause, then, "Fashion people respect you more when you sound French. They're not exactly known for their warmth toward foreigners."

"When did you move to Paris?"

"Four years ago." Her reflection in the window looked distant for a moment. "Left everything behind."

"Your parents were okay with that?"

"Don't have parents." Her voice was matter-of-fact, like she was discussing the weather. Before Jules could stumble through an apology, she added, "I mean, they're physically still on this earth. Just dead to me. Lots of trauma, more therapy bills than I care to count."

"Then we won't talk about it."

"Ever," she said firmly.

"Ever," he agreed, then switched lanes and subjects. "When's your birthday?"

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Yours but backwards."

"Been googling me?"

"Please. Only the basics." She finally turned from the window. "Apparently we're cosmically compatible. Just FYI."

"Don't tell me you believe in that astrology bullshit."

She clutched her chest in mock horror, and Jules couldn't tell if she was serious or not. "Of course I do." He glanced at her, trying to read her expression. "Jesus, Jules, I'm fucking with you." She laughed, and it echoed off the Urus's pristine interior. "Always so serious."

"Full name?" He tried to sound casual, like he hadn't been wondering since that first roasting session at Louis Vuitton.

"Want my social security number too?"

"You're impossible."

"Part of my charm." She adjusted her sunglasses. "Ja'Mila Desirée Lawrence."

"Desirée?"

"Yes, very stripper chic, I know."

"What? No. It suits you."

"You know what else would suit me?" Her tone was dangerous in the best way.

He took the bait. "What?"

"My new Fendi bag."

"You're going to be dangerous for my bank account, aren't you?"

"Consider it payment for making me stay at your place tonight."

Jules caught himself smiling despite the impending damage to his credit card. She was trouble, and he was starting to think Bruno's fake dating scheme might not be the worst idea after all.

The Barcelona luxury shopping district was exactly what you'd expect mid-afternoon - full of influencers pretending not to take photos of themselves and tourists clutching shopping bags like trophies. Jules pulled into a private parking spot that probably cost more than most people's rent.

The Fendi staff recognized them immediately - though Jules wasn't sure if it was from football or their viral moment. Probably both. A sales associate materialized instantly, all practiced smiles and careful enthusiasm.

"The new collection just arrived," she said, leading them to a private viewing room. "Though I'm sure Mademoiselle Lawrence has already seen it at Galeries Lafayette?"

"Different stock in Paris," Mila replied smoothly, already eyeing a bag displayed in the corner. "Plus, I'm not exactly here in a professional capacity."

The bag in question was exactly as expensive as Jules expected. He watched Mila examine it with the same critical eye she used to roast his outfit choices, turning it over in her hands like she was memorizing every detail.

"Your thoughts?" he asked, genuinely curious about what made this bag different from the fifty others in the room.

"The craftsmanship is decent, the leather quality is excellent, and it'll definitely make your ex-girlfriends angry on Instagram." She shot him a wicked smile. "Plus, it matches that Saint Laurent jacket you pretended not to buy after I suggested it last month."

"How did you—"

"I have my sources." She handed the bag to the hovering sales associate. "We'll take it. And maybe show us the ready-to-wear?"

Two hours and several eye-watering price tags later, they emerged with enough bags to keep social media busy for weeks. Jules had to admit, Mila had an eye for more than just roasting his choices. Every piece she'd picked for him was perfect - subtle enough for his taste but interesting enough to keep the fashion blogs talking.

"You know," Jules said as they loaded the bags into the Urus, "you're actually pretty good at this when you're not just criticizing my choices."

"Please. I've been styling people for years. The roasting is just a bonus service." She carefully arranged her new Fendi bag in the back seat like it was precious cargo. "Besides, someone needs to save you from your occasional hypebeast tendencies."

"Says the girl who just made me buy a logo-covered jacket."

"It's vintage. Completely different." She settled into the passenger seat. "Now, about this charity gala next week…"

**************************************

"By the way," Jules said as they pulled up to a gate, punching in a code. "Bruno sent an NDA to your email. Pretty standard stuff - don't leak personal details, no tell-all books, no secret TikToks about my morning routine."

"How will I ever survive not sharing your coffee preferences with the world?" Mila perused through her phone, skimming the document. "Wait, there's a whole section about social media guidelines."

"Welcome to footballer life."

"'All posts must be approved by management prior to publishing,'" she read out loud. "'No sharing of private residence details.' Damn, there goes my house tour vlog series."

The house appeared as the gates opened - all clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows, like a minimalist magazine spread come to life. The kind of place that screamed 'my interior designer has good taste.'

"Your room's upstairs," he said, leading her through the house. The home was pristine, probably thanks to whatever cleaning service rich footballers used these days. Her room was airy, with a view overlooking the city.

Mila dropped her bags by the door, eyeing the king-sized bed. "Please tell me the sheets are clean. And should I be worried about any hoes coming around stuck in their feelings?"

"Hoes?"

"You know, hoes? The ones you stick your dick in sometimes? They love ballers a lot? Groupies?"

Jules leaned against the doorframe, amused. "No hoes will be coming around."

"Good." She tested the mattress with one hand. "You can still get your dick wet though. Just be discrete about it." The look on his face made her pause. "You're not seriously thinking of fucking me, are you?"

Jules crossed his arms over his chest. "Wasn't it you that mentioned we were cosmically compatible?"

"What the fuck—"

"Chill," he said, nudging her arm. "I'm fucking with you."

"Just remember, this is strictly business."

"Says the girl who just made me buy half of Fendi."

"That's revenge shopping for making me stay here."

Jules pushed off the doorframe. "Dinner's coming soon. Try not to reorganize my entire closet before then."

"No promises," Mila called after him. "Someone needs to deal with your sneaker situation."

There was something else lingering in the air between them. Something that had been there since that McDonald's night, maybe even before that. Chemistry wasn't even the right word for it - it was more like recognition. The way they both moved through their worlds, focused and unbothered until something caught their attention. The way they both used humor to deflect, sarcasm as a shield.

Jules knew better than to push it. He'd watched her enough in the store, seen how she operated. Mila was like him - she'd make a move if and when she wanted to. She didn't need games or pressure. She'd either want it or she wouldn't, and she'd be direct about it either way.

*****************************************

Jules ordered pizza because anything fancier felt like trying too hard. He could hear Mila upstairs, probably judging his closet organization system - or lack thereof. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since they left the shops. Bruno had sent approximately fifty texts about their "organic shopping moment" and how the internet was eating it up.

The doorbell rang just as Mila came downstairs, now wearing what looked like designer sweats.

"Really? Pizza?" She perched on one of his kitchen stools, watching him set down the box. "Very bachelor of you."

"Would you prefer I pretended to cook?"

"God no. I've seen enough footballer food porn on Instagram." She grabbed a slice. "Let me guess - your nutritionist is going to kill you?"

"Already got three texts about my macro count." He pulled up UberEats on his phone. "Pretty sure they track my orders."

"Tragic." She was eating pizza like someone who'd mastered the art of not messing up their lipstick. "Though not as tragic as your sneaker collection. We need to talk about your storage situation."

"Did you actually reorganize my closet?"

"Someone had to. You had Yeezys next to Louboutins. It's basically a hate crime."

His phone buzzed again - another text from Bruno with a screenshot of their shopping photos already making rounds on the gossip blogs. Mila leaned over to look, close enough that he could smell her perfume. Something expensive, obviously.

"Your ex liked the post," she noted, tapping the screen. "Interesting."

"You're tracking my ex's likes?"

"Please. I'm tracking everyone's engagement. It's called market research." She stole another slice of pizza. "Also your teammates are flooding my DMs."

"They're worse than Bruno."

"Why didn't you ever try to run game on me at LV?" Mila asked out of the blue, wiping her hands on a napkin.

Jules raised an eyebrow. "You wanted me to run game?"

"No, just shocked you didn't." She reached for another slice. "TAA did a few times - always in DMs, posting thirst traps. Too light skin for me though."

"I'm light skin."

Mila gave him a thorough once-over, the kind she usually reserved for questionable outfit choices. "You are, but not really."

The look of confused amusement on his face only made her grin wider. But instead of explaining, she switched topics entirely. "This pizza's actually decent. Thought you'd be one of those guys who orders from tourist trap spots."

"You never really answered my question though," Jules said, reaching for another slice. "Why'd you think I'd run game on you?"

"Because footballers always do. But you didn't even try."

He watched her for a beat before explaining. "I'm shy, actually."

Mila nearly choked on her pizza. "You are not shy."

"Just ask my teammates - it takes me a bit to warm up to new people."

"But you were talking to me."

"Because you're cool."

"I'm cool?"

Their eyes connected across the kitchen island.

"Yeah, you're cool," he replied, and for a moment neither of them moved. Jules cleared his throat first. "Any exes I should worry about?"

"I don't date men."

His ears perked up. "Are you on a different team?"

"Men are complicated." She twisted the cap off her water bottle. "They do too much. Not to mention the fragile ego. I just do what I want when I want—"

"With who you want?" He finished.

She nodded. "You're getting it now."

"So you don't have someone taking care of needs?"

"Speak plainly, chéri."

That made him chuckle. "Okay well you don't have a person... to... uh... make you cum? Non petit mort?"

"I have a couple people in mind, but if they're busy, a vibrator can—"

"A vibrator can't do what a dick can." He was trying to lean against his counter like this was a normal dinner conversation.

"Oh, so you think you know?"

Jules grabbed his water bottle, taking an unnecessarily long sip. Mila's eyes tracked the movement, watching his Adam's apple bob as he drank. The kitchen suddenly felt warmer than it had any right to be. Finally, he set the bottle down. "I know that I know."

"Talking with too much BDE. Hopefully, you have it."

"Huge BDE," was his response.

His phone started buzzing - once, twice, three times. Probably Bruno having a meltdown.

"Are you gonna answer?" She asked, watching him over the rim of her bottle.

Jules picked up without breaking eye contact, watching her demolish another slice of pizza like they hadn't just been discussing his dick capabilities. "Yeah, Bruno?"

"Tell me you've seen the engagement numbers!" Bruno's voice was way too excited for ten-thirty at night. "The shopping photos are trending—"

Jules watched Mila scroll through her phone, probably finding more of his fashion disasters to roast. "Bruno, it's late."

"Late? It's prime social media hours! Listen, we need to discuss tomorrow's strategy. The team wants you both at training—"

"Both?" That got Mila's attention. She looked up from her phone, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, yes! Very organic. Mila comes to watch practice, maybe posts some stories—"

"I have a job," Mila said loud enough for Bruno to hear. "A real one. With actual responsibilities."

"But think of the narrative! The supportive girlfriend who still roasts his training kit choices—"

Jules pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bruno."

"Fine, fine. But at least post something tonight. The internet needs content!"

"Goodbye, Bruno." Jules hung up before his agent could launch into another strategy pitch.

"He's exhausting," Mila said, but she was already typing something on her phone. "Though he might be right about your training kit. That shade of blue does nothing for your complexion."

"Are you actually critiquing my uniform?"

"Someone has to." She showed him her screen - a story draft of their pizza box with the caption 'making sure he eats real food' and a blurry outline of his body the background. "Think this'll give Bruno his content fix?"

Jules had to admit - she knew exactly what she was doing. "You're good at this."

"Please. I've been studying WAG behavior for years." She posted the story with a few quick taps. "Though most of them wouldn't be caught dead eating pizza on main."

His phone immediately buzzed with Bruno's approval messages. Mila's notification count was already climbing.

"Your ex viewed it first," she noted, not looking up. "Interesting."

"You're really tracking her, huh?"

"Market research." Mila pulled up his ex's profile like she'd been studying it. "She's pretty though. I see your type."

Jules raised an eyebrow. "My type?"

"Brown skin pretty girls." She zoomed in on a photo. "She kind of looks like me, but not really. Better makeup routine though."

"You've put thought into this."

"Please. First thing I did when Bruno mentioned this fake dating thing was scope out the competition." She was scrolling through more photos now. "How long were you together?"

"Year and a half."

"Decent run for a footballer." She set her phone down. "Why'd it end?"

"The usual. Career, distance."

"Boring answer. Give me the real tea."

Jules couldn't help but laugh. Most people tiptoed around his relationship history like it was radioactive. But here was Mila, demanding gossip over pizza in his kitchen.

"She wanted the footballer lifestyle more than the actual relationship," he said finally. "You know the type - endless Instagram posts, club appearances, WAG brunches."

"Basic." Mila was back to scrolling through her phone. "Oh wow, she really did post every breathing moment. Three different angles of the same Birkin?"

"That was the start of the end, actually. She posted my house location in one of her bag collection videos."

"Amateur move." Mila shook her head like this was the gravest fashion crime possible. "Even I know better than that, and I'm not even your real girlfriend."

"Real enough to reorganize my closet."

"Speaking of which..." She stood up, stretching. "I need to finish dealing with your sneaker situation. The way you've stacked the boxes is giving me anxiety."

"It's almost midnight."

"Time means nothing when fashion crimes are being committed." She was already heading for the stairs. "Also, your ex just posted a thirst trap. Coincidence? I think not."

Jules watched her disappear upstairs, probably to terrorize his shoe collection. His phone buzzed with another notification - Bruno sending screenshots of their pizza story going viral.

"Your Dior highs are not gym shoes!" Mila's voice carried down the stairs. "Why are they with your training gear?"

He grabbed another slice of pizza. This fake relationship was either going to fix his closet organization or drive him insane. Probably both.

Jules was used to having his home gym to himself at five in the morning. It was his thing - pushing his body before most people even thought about waking up. The discipline that kept him focused, kept the headlines about him professional instead of personal.

That's why finding Mila already there threw him. She was in the middle of a stretch sequence, compression shorts hugging curves that her Louis Vuitton uniform usually kept professional. The sports bra was obviously designer, but he was more distracted by the abs he didn't know she had. Her hair was thrown up in a bun, stray pieces falling around her face, held back by a headband that somehow made the whole look intentional.

"You're staring," she said without looking up from her stretch. "It's creepy."

"Didn't expect anyone else to be up."

"Please. You think this body maintains itself?" She switched positions with practiced ease. "Besides, early mornings are the only quiet time I get."

He watched her move through another stretch. "So this is a regular thing for you?"

"What, you thought I just stood around at Louis Vuitton looking pretty?" She finally looked up. "Those bags are heavy as shit. Requires maintenance."

Jules thought about their conversation from yesterday, her joke about cosmic compatibility. Turned out they had more in common than sharp tongues and an eye for fashion. Not that he'd give her the satisfaction of pointing that out.

"Well, don't let me interrupt your routine," he said, heading for the treadmill.

"Don't worry about me." She was already putting in her airpods.

Jules tried to focus on his treadmill stats, but his eyes kept drifting to Mila at the squat rack. The compression shorts weren't helping his concentration. Neither was her form.

He pulled out his phone, angling it for his usual morning workout story.

"Oh, we're doing thirst traps at five a.m.?" Mila's voice carried across the gym.

"Social media never sleeps." He checked the shot. "Don't worry, I won't post you. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you want to be posted."

She switched to deadlifts, and Jules suddenly found his playlist extremely interesting. Needed something with a stronger beat. Definitely not because he was trying not to stare at her ass.

"Your playlist must be fascinating," she called out, clearly enjoying his obvious distraction. "You've been scrolling for two minutes."

He cranked up his treadmill speed instead of answering. Some battles weren't worth fighting this early in the morning.

"By the way," Mila said between sets, "your ex unfollowed me."

"Already?" His feet kept steady on the treadmill. "That was fast."

"Right? She lasted longer than I expected." Mila moved to the pull-up bar, and Jules nearly tripped. "Careful there, chéri. Can't have you injured before training."

"Just adjusting my speed."

"Mhmm." She knocked out pull-ups like it was nothing. "Oh, and Bruno texted. Apparently we're trending again."

"It's five in the morning."

"Time zones exist, babe." She dropped from the bar, checking her phone. "Ooh, someone found videos of me dancing at that party. Your fans are real thorough."

Jules made the mistake of looking over. She was stretched out on the floor now, scrolling through her phone, all long legs and curves. The treadmill beeped a warning about his elevated heart rate.

"Focus on your cardio," she said without looking up. "Though I guess watching me is cardio adjacent."

You have no idea, Jules thought, watching her transition into stretches that were definitely more flexible than necessary. The way she bent over to touch her toes was practically a personal attack at this point.

That flexibility though... he could think of a few positions—

Nah. Don't.

He had to remind himself this was fake. Pretend. She'd made it pretty clear last night she wasn't down to fuck. Which was a shame because if her smart mouth was any indication—

Yeah. He definitely needed a shower.

"I'm done here," he announced abruptly, probably too abruptly, already heading for the door. "Training starts at 9."

"Running away already?" Her voice followed him out, amused.

Running was definitely one word for it.

************************************

Jules did some quick mental math about his morning schedule. Flick wanted them on the pitch by 9, and it was barely 6. That left him plenty of time to deal with the mess Mila had unknowingly left him in. Her compression shorts were burned into his brain, and the way they hugged her curves made it impossible to focus on anything else. His body had betrayed him the second she walked in, and ignoring it had only made things worse.

By the time he stepped into the shower, Jules was hard as a rock, the tension unbearable. Resigned, he leaned into the inevitable. Water cascaded down his locs, hot and relentless, as his hand found relief in the only way it could. He closed his eyes, letting the vivid mental image of Mila’s toned legs and the sway of her hips take over. It was quick and when he finally finished, his body shuddered, releasing what felt like weeks of pent-up frustration. His breathing was heavy, his muscles taut, and though his hand wasn’t a perfect substitute for the real thing, it would have to do.

For now.

It was nearly 7 by the time he wrapped a towel around his waist, feeling marginally lighter. His locs dripped water onto his bare shoulders as he stood before the bathroom mirror, wiping away the steam with the side of his hand. His reflection stared back at him, a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. He exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the memory of Mila and focus on something — anything— else.

Jules turned away from the mirror, already planning his match day fit. Distraction was the goal. He’d keep his mind on training, on what Flick expected of him, and not on the fact that Mila was probably still stretching downstairs. He ran a hand over his damp locs, forcing a neutral expression onto his face.

Mila waited until Jules' Urus was definitely gone before starting her post-workout exploration. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the ridiculous coffee machine he probably didn't know how to use properly.

The living room caught her off guard. Family photos mixed with art pieces that actually meant something - not the generic rich athlete collection she'd expected. A Basquiat print that was definitely authentic. Some local artists she recognized from galleries in Paris.

But it was the vinyl collection behind his TV that made her pause. Old school hip hop, French classics, rare pressings she'd only seen behind glass cases.

"Okay, actually impressed," she muttered, flipping through the collection. The organization was methodical, almost obsessive - probably the only thing in his house that was, besides the section of his closet she'd fixed. Each record sleeve is pristine, cataloged by genre and year.

Her phone lit up with a text from her coworker at Louis: "Girl, the store is CHAOS without you. When are you coming back???"

Mila caught her reflection in one of Jules' stupid expensive windows, still in her workout gear, hair a mess from that morning's session. This whole fake relationship thing was either going to make her career or destroy it. No in-between.

"Back Tuesday," Mila texted back to her coworker. "Try not to let anyone buy those ugly seasonal pieces."

Three dots appeared immediately: "The new collection is selling out because of YOU."

Of course, it was. She'd barely had time to process how that one McDonald's photo had blown up her entire aesthetic. Her Instagram followers had tripled. Fashion houses that had ignored her portfolio were suddenly sliding into her DMs.

She wandered upstairs, pausing at Jules' open door. His room looked like a fashion week aftermath - pieces thrown across the bed in his rush to training. Her eyes caught on his nightstand, then his dresser. Before she could stop herself, she was inside, fingers trailing over the surfaces, picking up bottles, checking drawers.

The ensuite bathroom drew her attention next. Row after row of skincare products lined up with military precision. She caught herself cataloging all the luxury skincare products lined up perfectly - at least he took care of his face and that explained the forty-minute shower she'd heard earlier. Mila picked up a face oil, checking the label.

La Mer, someone's real bougie.

"What are you? Interpol?" she muttered to herself as she set the bottle down exactly where she found it, getting the ick from her own snooping.

Back in her own room, she scrolled through notifications while waiting for the shower to heat up. Someone had already tracked down her old design school projects. Fan accounts were analyzing every interaction she'd ever had with Jules at Louis Vuitton. The internet was weird.

A text from Jules popped up: "my teammates found your finsta."

"which one?" she replied, because obviously she had several.

"the one where you rate footballer's fashion choices. they're feeling very attacked right now."

She grinned. That account had been her guilty pleasure - roasting millionaire athletes who couldn't dress themselves, even with a stylist. "tell pedri his latest gucci fit was a 3/10 at best."

"he's demanding a reconsideration."

"he can demand all he wants. those pants were criminal."

Her work phone lit up with another message from her manager at Louis. Something about influencer collaborations and social media reach. They'd been trying to get her to do official content for months, but she'd always refused.

Now here she was, accidentally becoming the kind of influencer she used to roast.

Mila secured her hair in a silk scarf then a shower cap before stepping in the shower. The water cascaded over her shoulders, rinsing away the morning’s workout and the lingering memory of Jules' too-long stare at her compression shorts. She smirked to herself, scrubbing her skin with the sandalwood-scented body wash she’d packed, a scent that clung subtly to her ever since she started using it.

After rinsing the soap off her skin, Mila took a moment to lean her forehead against the cool tile. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind — this fake relationship with Jules wasn’t supposed to feel this real, and yet it did. The way he teased her, the way his gaze lingered a beat too long…

Shaking the thought away, she wrapped herself in a towel. Back in her room, she grabbed a neatly folded set from the corner of her carry-on: a sage green Alo Yoga set, the fabric buttery soft against her skin. It was a far cry from the designer looks she’d wear later, but for now, it was perfect.

The urge to finish what she’d started the night before was impossible to ignore. She glanced back at Jules' messy room down the hall, rolling her eyes at the thought of leaving a job half-done. Her fingers itched at the memory of the chaos she’d left behind. Mila had spent years cultivating an eye for detail — OCD or not, she couldn’t leave her work half-assed.

Once dressed, she tightened her ponytail and grabbed her phone off the nightstand, headed straight for Jules’ room. The mess wouldn’t fix itself, and besides, she wasn’t doing it for him. This was for her peace of mind.

The sage Alo set moved with her as she crouched by his bed, neatly folding the pile of clothes. By the time she moved to his closet, Mila was in full organizer mode. She sifted through rows of designer suits, jerseys, and Gucci loafers.

"Three pairs of the same damn shoe," she muttered, shaking her head. "Who hurt you?"

His followers would probably appreciate knowing their fave had three pairs of the same Gucci loafers in slightly different shades of brown.

She was halfway through color-coding his shirts when her phone buzzed. Jules.

Jules (Da Boo): what are you up to?

She hesitated for a second, thumb hovering over the keyboard, before deciding on honesty.

LV's Meanest Stylist: fixing your closet. you're welcome.

Jules (Da Boo): you better not touch my trainers again.

LV's Meanest Stylist: too late. i’m cataloging them by how ugly they are.

A few seconds later, another text came through: "you’re unbelievable."

LV's Meanest Stylist: and you’re unorganized. it’s a miracle you make it out of the house dressed.

His reply was almost instant: "don’t forget who taught you how to tie a tie, cherie."

She snorted. "Touché."

But even his teasing couldn’t stop her from finishing the job. When she was done, his closet looked like a minimalist’s dream—clean lines, coordinated colors, and a clear division between casual wear and training gear. She snapped a quick photo, not for Instagram but for herself, a little reminder that even chaos could be tamed with enough patience.

Mila flopped back onto his bed, scrolling through her phone again. The internet was still buzzing about them, dissecting every detail of their "relationship." Part of her hated it, but part of her couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at the attention.

Another text came in from Jules: "i’m starving. what’s for lunch?"

She smirked, already typing back: "whatever you’re buying."

Jules (Da Boo): you organize my closet and want me to feed you?

LV's Meanest Stylist: yes. you’re welcome.

Mila could almost hear his laugh through the screen.

Jules (Da Boo): fine. 2pm. don’t make me wait, cherie.

By the time she hit send on her "see you then" reply, she was already planning what she’d wear. Jules might have gotten her hot and bothered without even trying this morning, but she’d make sure she turned the tables when he saw her later.

............tbd

[ferrstappen]

hey bubs, dunno if your taking requests still but I was wondering if you could write dad!Max taking his kids to a theme park for the first time, maybe Disney?

Thank you in advance

Disney World Break (Max Verstappen x fem reader

Max insisted, like really insisted on taking the kids to Disney World, you were already in Miami and a flight to Orlando would be short forty-five minutes.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so thrilled about the idea of taking two four-year-old to a theme park, walking under the humid sun for hours, packed with people from all over the world who could recognize your very famous husband.

The twins, Luca and Mila, both carbon copies of their father, pleaded you to go during the entire flight from Azerbaijan to Florida, encouraged by their father.

“Max, they’re too young to go, they’ll last two hours, tops” You told him as the twins were sleeping, cuddling each other.

“We can take breaks or whatever, we’ll take one of those VIP tours so we can skip lines,” Max hummed at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair while his head rested on your lap.

Something flashed as you looked at him, always acting like a child outside the track, maybe because he was trying to connect with his inner child, and it all made sense. “Baby, have you ever been to Disney World?”

Blue eyes made contact with yours, his hands finding their home on your thigh. “No, not in Orlando at least. Mum and dad took a Victoria and I to Disneyland in France, but I don’t remember much”

Those words were enough to make you close your eyes and take a deep breath, knowing both Max and you were going to regret this, but it was going to be another adventure for your books. “Ok, baby. We are going to Disney world. You better book that VIP shot soon, and of course we’re going to Magic Kingdom.”

Fast forward two days and you were on the entrance of the park, Max helping Luca to choose his first ears, all while carrying Mila on his arms and telling her to choose whatever she wanted.

“Those ears look really great on you, my love.” You knelt in front of your son, fixing his hair so it wouldn’t look messy.

Just as you were speaking with your private tour guide, Max walked next to you, placing his hand on your waist and gently squeezing it to catch your attention.

“Put them on, liefde.” Max placed a pair of classic Minnie ears, as he adjusted his own Mickey hat.

It seemed like you were not only in charge of your twins, somewhere along the way after riding the Jungle Cruise, your husband started taking Luca and Mila to every shop, money not being an issue as the twins overindulged in merch and sweets.

“What do you think about going to the teacups next?” Max asked Mila, who was on his shoulders.

“Daddy, I’m tired.” Mila complained.

The whispered I told you so didn’t pass unnoticed by Max, who playfully placed his hand very near your ass.

“Max! It’s full of children here, have some respect!” You laughed, placing a kiss on his chin, only to be interrupted.

“Eww! Mama and daddy don’t!” Luca said making a disgusted expression, only to be reprimanded by his sister.

“How about we head to the castle and take our family photo?” You suggested and Max agreed, asking the guide to walk you to the best picture spot.

The sun was glowing, the four of you wearing your ears. Mila was in front of you while Luca was in front of Max who placed a hand on his shoulder and another on your ass, giving it a light squeeze just as the photographer snapped the picture.

This wasn’t a vacation, though. Just after the fireworks exploded, you were on a SUV, full of Disney World bags including multiple t-shirts, dolls, Mickey Mouse replicas, a play set of Cinderella castle driving to the airport where the jet was already waiting for the four of you.

You laughed after noticing multiple Pandora jewelry bags full of Disney charms, bracelets and earrings, even if you insisted to Max that Mila would never wear them. Max didn’t care, whatever his princess wanted, whatever his princess would get.

Max and you were still wearing your ears, staring at Mila and Luca who were both sleeping between the two of you.

“So, what do you say to a week long Disney vacation when the season’s over?” Max proposed and you giggled.

“Only if you ride all the roller coasters with them while I eat my churro” You answered and Max laughed; his gorgeous cackle which made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his mouth form the most beautiful smile before leaning to leave a kiss on your lips, careful to not disturb the twins.

“Deal”

[ln4babygirl]

LN4 X shy reader 🔥

You and Lando fly home to visit his family for Christmas, Lando can’t keep his hands off you.

~It was a cold day in England when we landed to visit Lando’s family. I haven’t seen them all for months after the season has ended. As we were waiting to get picked up from the airport Lando noticed my goosebumps and placed his jacket over my shoulders and pulled me into his side- just like every time he notices that I’m cold. However this time it made me blush more than normal as his dad was pulling up to the pick up point at the airport. It’s not that he hasn’t seen us hug before but it’s normally a good luck hug or a well done hug.. I am very shy and especially around family. It took me months to be okay with lando putting his arm around me at the garage (not that I didn’t like it I just don’t like attention being on me). Landos sister Flo jumped out of the car to help put our bags in the boot and gave us both a quick hug whilst telling her dad to blast the heating up as I was “practically freezing”. Adam just laughed and told us to get in before me finger tips fall off, Lan pulled open the back door for me and ran around to the other side to let himself in. The car journey wasn’t long and the entire way Lando kept his hand on my thigh rubbing circles as we drove to help calm my nerves, when we pulled up to the beautiful house they all call home everyone ran inside as it had just started raining. Lando quickly got our bags out before joining us all inside. As we entered I could smell the hot chocolate that landos mum knew was my favourite, bluey was playing on the TV which only meant one thing- landos nieces were also here to greet us. They came running and crawling through and Mila jumped straight into landos arms squealing whilst everyone laughed at the adorable encounter.

A few hours had gone by and I excused myself to go and freshen up before dinner. As I was drying myself off with a towel Lan came into the room and rapped his arms around my waist and started placing delicate kisses on my neck and shoulders. I turned around in his arms and planted a kiss on his lips which made him smile his bright radiant smile that I would never get bored of seeing. I wiggled away from him to get changed and noticed him plant himself on the large bed in the centre of the room. As I grabbed my clothes to try and go to the bathroom to change he stopped me. I was hoping he wouldn’t do this on the trip but apparently I was wrong, he hates when I walk away to get changed his point being he’s seen everything already so why wouldn’t I get changed In front of him. The problem is he doesn’t remember every time I change in front of him it takes double the time as he just can’t keep his hands to himself- which eventually results in him removing all my clothes and lying me down on the bed. Just as I was explaining that we don’t have time for his antics as all his family are waiting for us he shakes his head and tells me to just change here. I’ve learnt to pick my battles and this is not one I can be bothered fighting.

We eventually make it downstairs and join everyone else at the table, everything is going well until Lando places his hand on my thigh, this isn’t unusual for him but I can see in his eyes that he wants something more. I try to take his hand off my thigh but he just squeezes harder and moves higher up. I started to blush and take a sip of my drink, just as I put my glass back down I feel hot breath on my ear and immediately know who it is coming from. Lando is leaning into me and tells me to be a good girl and I will get rewarded later and leaves a seemingly innocent kiss behind my ear but what nobody can see is the devil like lick he leaves before he kisses. If I wasn’t red before I definitely am now, his entire family looking at us sweetly as their son and brother appears to be lovingly kissing me to soothe my nerves but what they don’t realise is that his hand has now made its way to be touching the outline of my underwear. I squeeze my thighs together to try and make it harder for him but that’s no match for his strong hands, as he pried my thighs back open a bit with one hand he manages to slip his fingers under my underwear and feel all the way up my slit dipping his finger in when he’s done. My breathe hitched as he drew his finger up to my bundle of nerves and circled it a couple of times, he leans over again and whispers into my ear how wet I already am and how naughty I’m being for enjoying his touch at a dinner table- he then removes his hand completely and wipes his fingers off on my thigh smirking at me.

I thought this would be the end of his attack but as we all settled down on the large sofas to watch a film he pulls me on his lap and throws a blanket over the both of us. This would be a normal scenario but there was enough seating for 15 people in this living room so I wasn’t sure why he wanted me on his lap. His sister throwing some popcorn at him stating he didn’t need to make her feel so single at Christmas time, he just smiled in return and kissed my temple wrapping his arms tighter around me. It was about 30 minutes into the film when I felt him pulling my legs apart so they were on the outside of his legs. I turned to whisper to him but when I looked at his face and saw the smirk he had whilst watching the film I knew I was done for, not even a second later he was dragging his hand up my thigh straight to where his hand had previously been at the dinner table, he moved my underwear to the side and swiped his finger up my slit and chuckled. He leant down and bit my ear as he dipped his finger back inside my whole, whispering how good I feel around him and to stay quiet. I bit my lip and couldn’t deny that this was a massive turn on, his finger inside me whilst his family was focused on the film. He started to pick up his pace and added another finger to the attack he was currently completing. I could feel the knot in my stomach begging to tighten and he must have felt it too as he leant down again and told me to let go and that I had been such a good girl taking his fingers so well for him. This completely tipped me over the edge and he covered my mouth as I came clenching around his fingers. Just as he removed his hand from my mouth his brother turned to ask if we wanted a refill, landos fingers still inside me he nodded his head for the both of us. He slowly moved in and out of me as his brother returned with our drinks. Lando then removed his fingers from inside of me and grabbed the glasses from his brothers hands, at this exact moment the screen went white and you could see landos fingers glistening as he took the glasses from his brother. I nearly chocked on nothing and Lando has his famous smirk back on his face, I was hoping his brother hadn’t noticed but when I looked up at him and he had the same smirk on his face as Lando and shaking his head I knew he had seen and knew exactly what had been going on. I buried my head into landos chest and could feel him chuckling whilst stroking my hair to soothe me, if this wasn’t embarrassing enough landos brother fist bumped Lando before going back to his own seat. I am definitely never getting changed In front of Lando again. ~

[pisupsala]

✨Mila's (Early) Endless Summer Reading List ✨

I'm packing my bags, so I thought I should pack my favorite stories: stuff that's been on my to-read list for too long, stuff I just enjoy re-reading and want you to know about, something to get me through the long-haul flight, something for sipping cocktails on the beach. I'm going to be updating the list with your recommendations and more stuff that I find. So:

Recommendations? 💕 YES PLEASE!

Recommend your own work? FUCK YES! ✨ minors dni, respect the author's tags, and show them some love by commenting and reblogging.

✨ TGM

mostly Bradley Bradshaw tbh lmao * This Love Came Back To Me by @beyondthesefourwalls i love these kinds of plots and it's so sweet *Remember You Even When I Don't by @beyondthesefourwalls i bizarrely never actually finished this and i will have to rectify this pronto *The Younger Kind by @roosterforme im like 20 chapters behind, soooo excited to binge this

*Leave a Light On by @sometimesanalice comfort story right here

*Hey Sailor by @sometimesanalice no notes, just yum

*Less Talk by @tongue-like-a-razor a jake story??? yes and i love this one *Faking It by @tongue-like-a-razor a classic, a must-read

*Little Wallflower by @bradshawsbitch it warms my poor heart and i feel this story on a personal level since I've been dealing with hearing loss

*Mise en Place by @bradshawsbitch hands down on my favorite AUs

*(christmas) baby please come home by @gretagerwigsmuse this fic influenced me so hard i bought a theragun *and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay by @gretagerwigsmuse actually just anything Jordan has ever done with the Smart Alec universe, you should read it

*Concerned Neighbor by @mothdruid this is just hot and you should enjoy it

*The Boyfriend Experience by @notroosterbradshaw i swear this is the fic that got me writing again, so if you like anything I've ever done you should go show Cass some love. *Don't Hang 'Em Till Noon by @sailor-aviator Jake western!AU? I knew I was rewatching Deadwood for a reason. Excited!! recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *Fool's Fare by @sailor-aviator A Jake pirate!AU while I'm on a beach in the Caribbean? Sign. me. up. Also recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *You Catch More Bees With Honey by @goldenseresinretriever I've seen this on my dash so much, but I shamefully never got around to it. How did you know I like hockey?

✨

Masters of the Air

Trust by @blurredcolour yeaaaaah, im obsessed. im deceased. this is so good.

prettier than a peach by @honeyskywitch reading this on my flight, so excited!

Oblivious by @sagesolsticewrites saving this one for the airport~

[lover-also-fighter-also]

CHILDHOOD FAVORITE TOYS FOR MY CHOICES MC'S

Tags: @cadybear420 @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor @choicesmc and anyone else who wants to do the same

Anitha (My TE MC):

I HC that she is a power rangers fan, and would definitely have had the power ranger figurines. The yellow one is her favorite, especially.

Ria (My first OG: HSS MC):

She had loved hamsters since she was a kid, and would have an entire hamster plushie collection on her bed.

Jeremy (My second OG:HSS MC):

Dinosaurs have fascinated him as a kid, and he wins this dinosaur plushie at a carnival game.

Mila (My HSS:CA MC):

She would definitely have an entire collection of various plushies. Honestly, she can't decide which one is her favorite

Tanya (My VoS MC):

Her favorite toy would be a stuffed dolphin she got at an airport store, and hence starts her love for sea animals and the beach. Her brother, Harshith would have the same one

Harshith (My OPH MC):

His favorite toy would be the doctor's kit he had as a kid, and he would put band-aids on his toys, or tie gauges to them. And he would pretend to give Tanya a medical treatment with the kit

Jenna (My ILITW MC):

She always loved the wild creatures that lived near her house. Especially rabbits. She and Jane used to play with them everyday after school. I'm sure she definitely had something like this as a kid

[july-1804]

A combination of 13 + 14 please!

(I've changed the prompt ever so slightly to fit the narrative)

13. "With the rate uncles/aunts/grandparents/friends are buying stuff for you, you will be the most spoiled kid ever" & 14. "[Parent], I lost my teddy!"

They were in the car on the way home from the airport after a long West coast roadie as Mila starts to yell.

"Papa! Mine stuffy!" She cries as Nico turns to look at her, Jack sighing from the drivers seat.

Nico bites his lip before mustering a smile for Mila. "It must be in your suitcase, darling. We'll find it when we get home."

She nods, blue eyes popping with unshed tears. Nico gives her another smile before turning back in his seat, opening up the Devils group chat. SOS has anyone seen Mila's yellow stuffy? 💀💀💀

No one had seen her stuffy, unfortunately, and it was no where to be found in the 3 suitcases Jack, Nico and Mila travelled with.

Mila's a mess the next day, clingy and whining into Nico's neck as they walk into practise. It was an optional skate, and they'd decided that Nico and Mila would watch Jack and the rest of the Devils skate to hopefully cheer her up.

"What's wrong, Miss Mila?" John asks as he sees Mila pouting into Nico's neck.

"Mine stuffy!" She exclaims, slipping her thumb back into her mouth. Nico and John both hold back smiles as they watch Mila's dramatics, kicking her feet sourly against Nico's side.

This pattern follows until Jack comes through the tunnel, waggling his gloved fingers at his daughter in greeting. "Wish Daddy a good skate, Mila," Nico reminds her. She shakes her head in response.

"Mine stuffy!" Is what she says back, glaring at Jack. He laughs and steps onto the ice.

Mila's dramatics continue well into the afternoon, babbling to Hazel unhappily when she arrives to relieve Nico and Jack. She's grumpy as they leave for the rink, Nico and Jack laughing to themselves in the car. "She's two years old, what are we going to have to deal with when she's 16?"

Their laughter stops when guys start walking into the locker room, pulling yellow stuffys from their bags or from under their arms. John's first, then Timo, Holtzy, Nemo, Jake and Curtis. Luke is the last to enter, blushing as he thrusts the stuffy towards Nico and Jack.

"My stupid walk in photo has me holding this toy," Luke says, earning teasing chirps from around the locker room.

9 Devils ended up going and buying Mila a replacement stuffy after practise, Jack and Nico feeling touched that so many of their teammates cared sodeeply about their daughter's emotional welfare.

"With the rate the guys are buying her things, Mila is going to be the most spoiled kid ever," Jack says to Nico, both of them shoving the stuffys into their bags.

Devils admin absolutely loves Luke's walk in photo, and makes the guys each pose with the identical stuffys they'd purchased for Mila.

The photo is posted to Instagram with the caption: "New Jersey Devils 🤝 Mila's stuffy"

[iwanttobeliv]

Betty, la fea: la historia continúa

So much has happened lately irl that I got really behind with my posts about the show. I have watched every episode so far (the most recent being episode 8), and by now more than a few issues I pointed out have been clarified or made worse, but I decided to keep sharing my thoughts on episode 1 as they were conceived.

So, back to:

Episode 1 – Reunited (but it doesn’t feel so good) - Part 2

A controversial topic, Mila Mendoza.

We’ll get to her in a sec.

But first, let’s take a moment to enjoy the little things.

We are at the airport, Armando and Betty standing next to each other as Mila gives us the cliffs notes of their separation as well as some information regarding the timeline that should be helpful (should being the operative word and not a very good one).

This is the first interaction we see of Betty and Armando alone, and I have to say, the chemistry between these two is undeniable!

It’s clear Betty still has feelings for Armando, we can see it in the way she looks at him when he says he needed to see her, before clarifying who the ‘her’ was. And then, after Betty laughs and her eyes go searching their daughter once again, the way Armando looks at her? Oh, we are on! No matter how much time and stuff these two have been through, the feelings are still very much there.

But back to Mila.

I get why in such a short (screen) time people have elected her as “The Worst”.

Mila, the only child of Armando and Betty has been away for 5 years (I’m guessing ‘studying’) and very quickly we get a very clear picture of their family dynamics.

Armando is the good cop, the enabler, the one Camila can bat her eyes at to get away with anything, her ‘Armandaddy’ (I do love a portmanteau). And honestly, this is the least surprising thing in the revival. Under all that yelling and roaring, we always knew there was a soft spot – and of course, their only daughter, their little princess, one who laughs just like her mother and looks at him with adoring brown eyes under those bangs, well… Armando never stood a chance, did he?

No, the surprise comes in Mila’s interaction with her mother – which I think was also one of the main reasons for her rejection as a character. How dare Betty’s daughter be anything but devoted and loving, just like her mother has always been to Don Hermes and Dona Julia? And the fact that she dresses like an IT girl and acts like a Mean girl ain’t doing Mila any favors.

So yes, when she calls Betty by her name and greets her with clear less enthusiasm than her father, I was more than a little annoyed too. But then, thinking about it, and with the bits and pieces we start to collect as the story goes, I suppose I can understand it. And more than that: I can see the potential of this particular plot. Again: conflict.

A mother-daughter relationship never lacks that.

Then again, knowing that and not wanting to shove that chocolate box down Mila’s throat when she dismisses it with a wrinkled nose are two very different things.

I suppose both things can be true.

Moreover, did you see how quickly Armando folded when Mila asked not to be taken to the Pinzons’ home?

Now can you imagine having to be the one always saying no when Armando doesn’t seem to know how to?

Poor Betty, I really think that even without the whole Ecomoda thing that I'm sure will later be explained, it would be nearly impossible to compete for her daughter’s affection and not always be seen as the bad cop.

All that being said, Mila is still so undeniably Betty and Armando's daughter that I can't help but like her at least a little bit.

And I have to say, while the writing doesn't seem to do her any favors, Juanita Molina is doing a very good job with some of Betty's mannerisms and Armando's personality (at the very least the yelling part).

Next: Betty and Nicolas, as some wise ladies once sang: friendship never ends.

[villasrental]

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Happy Holidays..!

[bluesmason]

so maybe on the 24th you fly to london straight after spending the day with your family to be with mason and you’re going to spend christmas day and the whole week until after new years day with him and you’re a bit nervous on the whole way there because you’ve never spent christmas with him and his family and you’re not sure if you’ll fit in or if you’ll intrude on their traditions or anything 🥺 so when you arrive at the airport you see mason waiting for you at the arrivals with his hoodie over his head to not get recognised because all he wants is to pick you up and take you to his home because it’s so late and you must be tired and as soon as he sees you he’s smiling from ear to ear before hugging you so tight and kissing you in the most loving way, telling you that he’s so happy you’re here before grabbing your suitcase and your hand to walk to his car with you and the whole way home he’s holding your hand and kissing the back of it as he tells you what he’s been upto today and how cute summer and mila were when they all went last minute christmas shopping earlier today 🥺 and when you finally get to his house everyone’s already asleep in their rooms so you both also head straight to bed cuddling and falling asleep in eachothers arms 🥺 and when you wake up in the morning the first thing you feel is mason’s kisses all over your face and his hands softly rubbing up and down your sides telling you to wake up before summer comes barging in demanding you both to open presents with her right away so you lay there all cuddled up until she eventually does come in and you both go down into the kitchen, you wearing matching pyjamas with debbie and jaz and all the boys wearing the matching ones too and the whole morning is just so wholesome with all of you opening presents and you giving everyone the presents you sneakily brought with you and they’re all like “oh no darling you didn’t have to” but you tell them that you wanted to as a little thank you for them letting you be with them during this special time and everything 🥺 and when you handed out all the presents you sit back down next to mason and he puts his arm around your shoulder, pulls you closer and kisses the side of your head in the most loving way because he didn’t know about the presents and he just loves you so much and how well you get along with his family 🥺 and the whole day just goes by so nicely with you all taking a walk, playing with summer in the snow, eating christmas dinner together, playing board games and going ice skating in the evening 🥺 and mason being so affectionate and touchy during all of it because he’s just so happy you’re here with him 🥺