#don’t nobody got a pr team???

[vivaciousoceans]

I’ve been knee deep in rnb divas drama for the past few weeks and it just keeps getting worse

[ventismacchiato]

O4 stuck with you — screaming and fighting !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

You and Scaramouche were dragged backstage and away from prying eyes, faces flushed and chests rising as the adrenaline from the argument on stage had yet to wear off. The dressing room was still, only filled with you both throwing insults at one another. The rest of your group members shared sheepish looks with one another, deciding to let you both get it out of your system.

As soon as the door was tightly shut you whirled around to face Scara.

“You just always have to get the last word, don’t you?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“You’re the one who started yelling at me, I was just defending myself,” Scaramouche replied, his tone equally heated, but his posture was much more composed than you. 

“You’re the one who told me to give up,” you accused. 

“Yeah, give up the trophy so I could hold it,” Scara sighed.

“Yeah, as if you deserve to hold it.”

“Now that you mention it, I do deserve it more than you.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like to actually work for something,” you glared, voice laced with contempt, “You probably get everything handed to you by your mom.”

He glanced away, abruptly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t talk. Your voice is even more unpleasant when you’re whining.” 

Naturally, you kept talking

“That’s the only reason you’re even here with the rest of us,” you continued, letting your jealousy cloud your senses, “I can’t be the only one who thinks that.”

Scaramouche’s face hardened. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his way past you to leave the dressing room before turning around one last time.

“Nobody even knew she was my mother until I became a trainee. I used a different name on the application forms. But if hanging onto that little fact makes you feel better about being so pathetic then be my fucking guest.” 

And with that he slammed the door behind him.

You hated the way he could make you inexplicably self-conscious. It used to be a foreign sensation, one left behind long ago in insecure adolescence.

You stood there, breathing heavily, as the door swung shut. The room was silent, everyone stunned by the intensity of the confrontation.

Lumine stepped up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, slowly guiding you outside to cool off. 

“We’re also gonna head back,” Aether awkwardly laughed, grabbing Childe and Kazuha by their collars and dragging them out.

“So, that just happened.”

“Shut up, Venti.”

“We really need to broaden your vocabulary, Y/n. Your insults could be better.”

“You too, Fischl! Zip it!”

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

begging u guys to let me use ur usernames as fans in this au pls let me make u a crazy stantwt user xx but pls comment on the masterlist so i see it

also everyone saying scara keeps eating yn up w insults is sending me 😭😭

title from the way i loved you by ts it suits scarayn so well

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — 👍 leave me comments and asks instead of begging for updates pleek i need motivation to post more

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[cutielando]

threat | m.v.

synopsis: in which your secret relationship is under threat

my masterlist

Secret relationships were fun.

Sneaking out behind people’s backs, stealing glances at each other when you thought nobody was watching.

But they stopped being fun once management got involved.

Max had a very public life, and a very dangerous job to begin with. He needed to be careful with a lot of things, and that oftentimes included his image. He didn’t care about any of it, he was content with people not knowing about your relationship in order to protect your privacy and have something that was only for himself.

He was okay with it, you were okay with it, everybody was happy.

Except for Red Bull Racing.

They didn’t like the idea of their number 1 driver being seen as unapproachable because he is always without a partner, and since you two didn’t want to showcase the relationship on their terms, they figured out another way to go.

PR relationship with a model.

You couldn’t say that you were surprised. Red Bull was notorious for being willing to do whatever it takes to be on the top, no matter in what field. But you didn’t expect Max to go along with it, certainly.

“We need to talk” he had announced after he came home from a meeting with Red Bull.

You raised your eyebrow, his tone doing little to soothe the worries pitting in your stomach.

“About what?”

“Us” his response made your breath hitch in your throat.

“What about us?” a million thoughts were running through your head, one more sinister than the other.

He sighed, scratching his neck.

“I don’t want to beat around the bush, so I’m just gonna say it. The team doesn’t think that hiding our relationship is beneficial for my reputation, so they are giving us two choices. We either go public in the next few days or they’re gonna hire a model to be my fake girlfriend” to say that the news had come like a punch would be the understatement of the year.

You knew from the very beginning that Red Bull was very vocal and opinionated over your relationship with Max and how it should evolve, but you never thought they would stoop down so low and come up with something like this just because you wouldn’t play by their rules.

“What did you tell them?” you asked, part of you afraid of what the answer would be.

He was silent for a moment, which spoke more about the situation than his words would.

“I told them that I didn’t like being given an ultimatum and that I’m gonna think about it” hearing him brought tears to your eyes.

You didn’t know what you should have expected. Of course he would end up agreeing, you were stupid to think that he would stand up for your relationship and live a secret life forever. You should have known better from the very start.

Who were you even kidding?

“I see” you said, after being silent for a good minute upon hearing him.

“I obviously don’t want to date someone else, regardless if it’s fake or real. But we need to talk about this. You know how the team is, they’re going to make the decision for me and we both know what that decision is going to look like” he said, slowly approaching the bed and sitting down next to you.

You nodded, staring at the folded hands in your lap.

Your brain was struggling to make a decision, struggling to weigh in all the factors that it was supposed to consider.

Were you ready to go public with your relationship? Did you really have what it takes to be Max’s girlfriend? How would his fans react when they found out he was dating someone as ordinary as you? How would it affect his reputation and relationship with the team? Was it even worth the risk?

“I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. Wanna tell me what you’re thinking so hard about?” his voice woke you up from your little trance, his joking tone doing little to soothe your worries.

You looked at him, analyzing the features of his face. He was too good for you, you knew that. But damn you and your selfishness, you weren’t about to let him go.

“I don’t want to be the reason you tarnish your relationship with the team. I love you too much to be that person. The decision is up to you” you figured that letting him decide would be your best bet, it was his reputation on the line after all.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into going public. We’ll do whatever makes you comfortable. I just wanted you to know what the team is planning to do, but I’m not going to let them ruin us” he reassured you, taking your hand in his.

You closed your eyes and savored the feeling of his skin on yours, his touch familiar and safe. Nobody had ever made you feel like Max does, not even close to it. He brought a sense of comfort in your life that nobody else ever could, he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You had to take a risk if you wanted to be with him.

No matter how hard it would be.

“I want to go public, believe me, I do. But what are your fans going to say? You see what they do with the other girlfriends, they look for the tiniest reason to just tear them to shreds” you said, worry laced with apprehension in your voice.

Max shook his head and scooted closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug.

“My fans are the last thing that you should be worried about. If they don’t agree with our relationship, then they aren’t my real fans. All that matters is that we’re happy and in love, nobody else has a say in this” he reassured you, running his hand up and down your back as he spoke.

You listened and then ultimately nodded, knowing that he was right and you were freaking out over nothing.

As long as you had Max, you would be fine.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[wolffwish]

Clandestine Meetings

REQUEST: “Hey!!! Could you possibly do a fic with Christian teasing Toto about a new relationship, maybe with an employee, then protective Toto caring for reader when she panics because she thinks everyone knows?!! Thank you!!! 💗💗💗💗”

Summary: Rumours start circulating around the paddock about the relationship between you and Toto, until he reaches breaking point and jumps at your defence.

Warnings: Toto x Assistant!reader, workplace drama, arguing between TPs. Soft/protective/caring Lewis Hamilton x reader. Mentions of past relationship/confrontation. Christian Horner 🫥.

A/N: Kinda thinking this could be a part one… with a very different sort of part two 😏 ps thought you’d all enjoy the bonus of Lewis being featured!

You and Toto had been seeing each other for around 3 months, sneaking around the paddock and keeping your relationship as quiet as you could— purely because you didn’t want anything or anyone to ruin it.

What you had was perfect, a professional work relationship that never got in the way of your personal one, and vice versa. You could feel yourself falling for him big time, but with people starting to question the way you look at each other and the timings of your supposed ‘meetings’, people started to talk.

The Head of the FIA had arranged a meeting regarding an ongoing PR crisis amongst the teams, with all the team principals slowly making their way into the FIA hub at the first race of the season in Bahrain.

As normal, you escorted Toto to the meeting to see him off. This wasn’t uncommon, as all the other TP’s also had their assistants with them, including Christian.

“I see you’ve bought your sheep with you?” you heard come from behind you. You turned around to see Christian smirking, with his assistant whacking him across the stomach as if to say ‘shut up’. Toto turned around with you, daggers for eyes as he looked down on Christian. His tall frame causing a shadow over him and his assistant, jaw clenching through anger and fist tightening around his paddock pass.

“Just ignore him…” you say, grabbing Toto’s wrist, urging him to continue walking. “He’s not worth the aggro.”

Christian chuckled. “Run along now, Toto. Don’t want to be getting into trouble, do yo…”

“What did you call her?” - Toto scowled, yanking his wrist out of your clasped hand and swallowing heard, making his throat swell. Eyes locked onto Christian’s, and if looks could kill…

“Oh dear. Guenther! Looks as though Toto got out the wrong side of her bed this morning.”

“Say one more word and I’ll make sure it’s your last.” Toto commanded, his face getting redder by the second.

“Toto come on…” you sighed, “please, let’s just go. The meeting is starting soon.”

“You go ahead…” he said, flicking his eyes from Christian to you. His face softening as he saw your panicking eyes. Confrontation is one of your biggest fears thanks to your last relationship, and he knew that. “Hey, don’t worry, ok? I’ll deal with it.”

You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but neither could you stay and watch. You’d seen him get this angry before, but only once. That one time you’d opened up about your previous relationship and how you were treated was enough to make Toto see red and start a war.

You nodded, forced a half smile at him and walked away. Past Toto, past Christian and his assistant, and passed Lewis Hamilton— who was making his was to an engineering meeting. The further you were getting away from Toto, the more your heart was pounding at the thought of an argument starting over what you were trying to keep a secret.

You’d entered the Mercedes motorhome and felt Lewis grabbed you by the shoulder. “Hey, hey…” he said, his voice just a brush louder than a whisper. “Where’s that smile gone?”

As soon as you locked eyes with him, you lost it. Every emotion started running through you as you felt your past memories tarnish every fibre of your being. Lewis had no idea about you and Toto, nobody did. Atleast that’s what you thought.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay, don’t cry. Come on, whatever it is, we’ll fix it.” he says, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and gently caressing it. “What’s happened?”

Through tears and a shaky breath, you somehow, in one single breath, mastered the words “Christian.. he knows, I don’t know how but he knows about me and Toto and we tried to keep it a secret but it just I don’t know he just said something to Toto and oh god it’s going to ruin it and I can’t be—“

“Woah woah, slow down. Take a step back. Breathe. Let’s do it together. In… and out. In… and out.” You copy Lewis’ actions as he calms you. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more private.” He ushered you up the stairs and into the room that he knew led to Toto’s office.

“I’m sorry Lewis,” you said through tears and a few sniffles. “You have a meeting you need to attend… go. I’ll be fine.” Your eyes looked around the room, trying to find a jacket as you’d gotten the cold shivers and shakes from being so worked up. You saw Toto’s jacket hanging on the coat stand, which made the tears start streaming again.

“Come here…” said Lewis, as he grabbed Toto’s jacket and popped it over your shoulders. “I’m sure he won’t mind, will he?” The corner of his mouth turning into a playful smirk and he softly pinched your cheek to try and make you laugh. “I can’t blame him…” he says, “You are beautiful… even all red faced and crying.”

You laugh and roll your eyes… “Ok, now you’re definitely lying.” As you wipe your tears away with Toto’s sleeve, you hear heavy footsteps up the stairs. The door swung open, and the room stood still as Toto stood in the doorway— one hand still on the handle as he entered.

“Has anybody seen— oh god, there you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Toto claimed, walking his way over to you. “It’s ok, shhh sh sh, you’re ok, come on, deep breaths Schatzi, like we’ve done before. Deep breaths.”

As Toto wrapped his arms around you, your head buried in his chest and his head wresting on your chin, you heard him whisper “thank you” to Lewis, who slowly shut the door behind him as he exited the room.

“Come on baby, I’m here now. It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

“Why does he hate me so much?” you say, still locked in Toto’s arms. “What happened in the meeting? Did you even talk to anyone? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“

“Hey, hey, no, we’re not doing that. We’re not getting worked up again, are we?” Toto shakes his head as he softly strokes your hair with his entire hand wresting on the back of your head. “We’re not worrying about anything else, ok? Plus… he won’t be saying anything else about you ever again. That’s a promise.”

You pulled away from his arms and looked up at him, still teary eyed and sniffling. “What did you say to him?” you said, frowning because you didn’t know what was going to come next.

“I just told him the truth… nobody picks on my girl, and if they do… I’m gonna come after them.”

Your face turned from sad to shocked in an instant. “Toto, you told them about us?! I thought we were keeping it a—“

“No no, I know. But it was going to come out eventually. Besides, I want everyone to know who I go home to every night.” He brings his hands up and places them on both your cheeks, and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “I want them to know how fucking lucky I am, baby.” He softly kisses you again, this time gently sliding his tongue in. “I want them to know that this…” he runs his hands down your neck and over your collar bones, “…is all… mine.” He kisses your neck, and you can feel yourself smiling again.

“Toto, you’re the only one that can make me go from sad to— whatever this feeling is— in a millisecond.” You tip your head back and close your eyes as he runs his lips down your neck and to your collar bone. “I know baby… I just want to make you feel better…” he says, his hands making his way down your buttoned up Mercedes shirt. “I better lock the door.”

[sxffrxn]

when love strikes OP81

An Oscar Piastri x Reader, enemies to lovers story

Part One Part Two

Summary: Oscar Piastri and Y/N have a long-lasting feud, nobody knows why. Do they themselves even know why?

Warnings: Reader is very British, swearing, implying the C word (never said), more swearing, probably grammar mistakes, severe lack of interaction between Oscar and Y/N in this one - sorryyy

Word Count: 2.2k

~~

The blazing sun sank low over the horizon, casting a golden haze over the Bahrain International Circuit. The descent of the marigold ball could only signal one thing.

The official beginning to the 2023 Formula One Season.

Y/N was completely focused into her pre-race traditions, firstly consisting of a precise and perfect set of joint and limb stretches. Although, to some, it appears that you don’t need any physical preparation before clambering into the vehicle, Y/N found that if she didn’t, her race would be ruined - call it superstition or something.

The one time that Y/N got caught up in media - and gossip around the paddock - was the first, and only, DNF of her Formula One career. After suffering a loss of power in the 23rd lap of the Italian Grand Prix in Monza, Y/N had to retire the car and make the devastating walk of shame back to the garage.

“1,2,3,4,5” she counted slowly under her breath, dropping her left arm to then hold her right arm stretched across her back in a somewhat awkward position “1,2,3,4,5, breathe” was whispered as she sighed out a breath of anxiety and panic.

Y/N raced for the newly appointed 11th team on the grid, the prestigious Lamborghini. Albeit not having a massive history in Formula One, Y/N saw it as the best offer of her career. In her rookie season - 2022, Y/N raced for Scuderia Alpha Tauri, alongside her longtime friend Yuki Tsunoda. The two were very close, so much so that if you told Yuki something very important and secretive, Y/N would 101% know in the space of an hour.

When news broke that Y/N would not be re-signing with Alpha Tauri for the 2023 season, all hell broke loose. The media and press were so quick to assume that she was ‘not cut out for Formula One’ or that she was secretly dating about 13 of the 19 other drivers. However when it was announced that Lamborghini would be represented in Formula MotorSports, some fans were quick to put two and two together. I mean, the first female driver to score above 75 points in Formula One history - let alone her rookie season - was to be out of the sport before being given a proper chance? That was too crazy. Both Y/N and Robert Shwartzman had signed for the team in 2023, the two had been very well acquainted beforehand due to the history of them in the Prema racing team in Formula Two. Some even dubbed them as the funniest drivers among them all because of the frequent YouTube challenge videos uploaded of them both (and their coworkers I suppose but none of them even came close to being on the same level as Y/N and Robert).

Along with a new team, there came new rookies in the 2023 season. This included one of Y/N’s biggest rivals since her days in Formula Three.

Oscar bloody Piastri.

The two were infamous for being at each other's necks anytime they were put in close proximity to one another, this led to many PR meetings and a whole lot of complications on the grid. The press, being the vultures they are, were so very quick to pin the blame wholey on Y/N, this - understandably - made her despise the aussie even more. Why were the media making her out to be the bad guy when they don’t know the story?

But to be completely honest, neither of the two could pinpoint when they went from being teammates to borderline enemies. It could have been when Oscar clipped the back of Y/N’s car, in a Formula Three race, causing her to spin out and injure her arm from the impact. Or maybe it was when Y/N pushed past Oscar afterwards, purposefully knocking her uninjured arm against his, and muttering a very colourful insult under her breath - she 100% meant for him to hear it.

When Y/N was scrolling through twitter and came across Oscar’s tweet declaring that he will not be racing for Alpine despite their statement, she undoubtedly did let out a small laugh at the embarrassment Alpine must be facing, before reminding herself who he was. After that, Y/N did, albeit very secretively, keep up with all the news on Oscar’s debut in Formula One. Maybe she missed the rivalry on track that determined her to do better, or perhaps she was just keeping up with the competition; the latter is what she kept telling herself is what she was doing.

Just as Y/N was getting ready to leave her motorhome, a knock sounded at her door.

“One second!” she called, and rushed to pick up her helmet. When she opened the door, she was met with the grin of her old teammate.

“Hiya Yuki, you ready for the new season?” she asked, her tone was cheerful, masking the anxiety. The problem she was facing was the unpredictability of the car. Of course she had gone through preseason testing, practice and qualifying without a hitch, but who knows how the car would perform for a long period of time?

“Hey Y/N, I’m feeling quite nervous to be completely honest. Are you not?” he wondered. Y/N let out a laugh,

“No mate, I am fucking shitting myself I can’t lie to you” she said lightheartedly as they begun the walk towards the garages.

“Well I understand that. Good luck for the race” he said, patting Y/N on the back and veering off in the direction to his garage. Y/N called out good luck to him too, and stepped inside the garage. She didn’t think she would get used to the yellowish interior of the Lamborghini garage, but to be completely honest, it was kind of growing on her. If it were some obnoxious fluorescent yellow, maybe she would have been second guessing her move to the new team, but the amber and gold hues that surrounded her did not cause a headache.

The car was absolutely gorgeous, the hints of gold detailed the body of the car from front to back, and the main body of the car being black with carbon fibre helped to really enhance the beauty of the design.

As her race engineer ran through the strategy for this first race, Y/N peered outside and accidentally locked eyes with a certain driver.

Oscar Piastri’s brown eyes almost stared into her soul, when she realised who she was having a stare-off with, the rolled her eyes in a dramatic manner and gave her sole attention to the race engineer, his name was Dan and he was a nice enough bloke, of course Y/N hadn’t really had the time to get to know him but so far he was polite and professional. All the best qualities.

The cars had just begun their warm up lap. Y/N sat comfortably in P7 in qualifying and she was feeling semi-confident with the car. To say it was comfortable would probably be an overstatement but compared to her Alpha Tauri car, it wasn’t too shabby.

“And it’s lights out in Bahrain for the 2023 season!”

Y/N got away quite nicely, managing to pass to P5 in the opening corner. Luckily, she was able to keep that pace for most of the race. As she was gaining on that P4 position, Dan called through her radio, telling her to push. She did just that and was able to take the fourth position. With just 2 laps to go, Dan told her to just defend to the finish line. Unfortunately, in the final corner she had just a little bit of understeer causing her to be pushed to fifth. That wasn’t too bad? Her race engineer called through the radio to let Y/N know her position and she was elated with joy.

“Let’s goooo!!” she spoke through the channel, “Thanks guys! This car is quite something!” she continued.

After the podium presentation, Y/N found herself being whisked away into a hurricane of interviews, most of which asking her the same questions with the same pre approved answers.

“Were your hopes high joining a brand new Formula One team?”

“Did you expect to get the result you did today?”

“How did the car feel?”

“Are you proud with the performance of the car?”

However one interviewer veered off course from the actual racing, and instead started to quiz Y/N on her own personal life. In her rookie season, Y/N was withdrawn and shy, hardly interacting with the media. This new season must have obviously meant she was keen to share every minute detail about herself.

Of course the media knew about Oscar and Y/N’s feud off track, it was hard to ignore them giving each other dirty glares across the paddock whenever they found the chance to.

“So, Y/N, why do you have a longstanding rivalry with Mclaren’s new driver, Oscar Piastri?” he spoke. To be completely honest, Y/N was panicking, she had never blanked in an interview before but this question was quite unexpected. Luckily she was able to compose herself and spoke;

“Well it's not necessarily just a rivalry between me and Oscar, everyone in motorsports is determined to perform better than others. And me and Oscar, being on the same team for a period of time, along with all other teammates on the grid know the expectation to do better than them, your teammate is your biggest competition.” In her mind, Y/N was patting herself on the back for such a calculated response in a short time, however the reporter clapped back with another question.

“But you and Oscar are no longer teammates and were not even in the same series last year, why has your displeasure followed you two since then? Has something happened behind the scenes?” Y/N had to bite her tongue to stop her from saying ‘no it was all broadcasted live, the prick bashed into the back of me’ but she was reserved and just shook her head and smiled.

“I wouldn’t say displeasure, just competition, if you look at other drivers on the grid, are they getting questioned on their past with another driver? No.” Y/N cocked her head as if she was genuinely asking a question. Finally, her assistant managed to grab her away after the awkward encounter on the pretence of going over some data.

When she was a good distance away from the cameras, Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. God could that have been any more stressful? Her assistant told her that she wasn’t actually needed for data review yet and that she was free to relax wherever she pleases. Y/N smiled at her and said a thanks before bolting off to the catering. God she was so hungry, she could eat a hors- no way that's gross! She was so hungry, she could demolish at least 3 full sandwiches.

Her mind wandered as she sat down with her food, why are both Y/N and Oscar so petty, I mean the crash was years ago?! Anyways, Y/N decided she didn’t care about the ‘right’ or ‘logical’ thing to do - apologise for making such a fuss about nothing - and instead concurred that the best solution was to continue to act as though Oscar had done something crazy like kill her firstborn child.

Y/N stood up with a stretch making her back pop, and took her rubbish to the bin, as she was leaving, her eyes glanced over to a flash of orange. Ugh. She physically rolled her eyes. What she didn’t realise though, is that the orange was approaching her. Y/N had turned around to walk to the garage and go over her and her teammates’ performance. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to meet the face of a certain Mclaren driver. This one, however, is the one she would have most preferred.

“What’s up with you and Oscar? I saw you two glaring at each other and then in your interview, all they did was ask about Oscar.” Lando asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she told him innocently, flashing him a smile.

“No, no. I asked him first. He says it’s because you brake checked him in Formula Three and got hurt.” Lando replied digging further, God he really is nosey.

“I did not brake check him. He rammed his car into the back of mine!” Y/N snapped back, pointing accusatory into Lando’s chest. Lando raised his hands in surrender,

“Hey, hey, don’t shoot the messenger, I was just curious.” Lando quickly replied. Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes. Y/N turned to walk away after saying a quick bye to Lando.

Y/N came to an absolutely shocking revelation

Oscar Piastri is a massive pain in the arse.

A/N: hey guys!! first part is officially out. I hope you guys enjoy. If you have any requests for what to include in later chapter then please don’t be shy to. Also please correct any errors it is greatly appreciated. Hope you guys have a lovely day !!!

[jazzmasternot]

Hazbin hotel college AU head cannons

Note: decided to write these out after reading @sprainedwriting’s fanfic about Adam being a frat boy and I took that concept and ran with it.

Obviously this is based off of my own university experience where I attend a really big public university in the southern US. so that’s where my takes are coming from.

This is also my first time writing anything on here so there’s that aswell.

Charlie

Majors in musical theatre, but not performance education. She wants to be the unhinged theatre teacher that everyone loves. Lives in one of those really fancy student apartment lofts with keke. And is part of the cat club where she feeds the cats on campus

Vaggie

She probably does something super hard like biomedical engineering (let’s go women in stem!) which takes up allot of her time already. Is also an RA for one of the dorms on campus which is good for her bc free housing and gets paid to do her homework at the front desk. Met Charlie in an English class and have been together ever since. When she’s not on call she’s spending the night at Charlie’s and Charlie’s almost always sitting at the front desk with vaggie even tho she doesn’t work or live at the dorm and no one says anything bc it’s just not that deep.

Alastor

Majors in audio engineering and runs the campus radio station that people definitely still listen too. He went to community college first then transferred to a four year (to save money ofc) and is a commuter where he still lives with his mom. Does work study where he works the front desk of the library where he does his homework and works on his scripts for his radio show. Has no interest in working with Vox since he runs the tv channel simply bc he doesn’t want all that extra work. Still takes his notes on pen and paper and still has a nightmare of a time figuring out to electronically submit all his assignments and take his tests.

Angel dust

Okay so hear me out he majors in math ikik it sounds crazy but every gay math major I’ve ever met acts just like Angel dust. Goes to raves and frat parties even tho the guys don’t want him there but he always brings girls with him so the kinda have to let him in. Does nude modeling for extra cash at the art school so he’s kinda a celeb over there even tho he’s not in anyway related to that major.

Husk

Majors in Restaurant and hotel management and is one of those college students that are in their late twenties so already has more life experience than most other ppl here so he doesn’t do allot of the stupid college that allot of other ppl do. Lives in some off campus apartment that’s just a large house rented out to students made to look like a apartment (yk the ones in talking abt) works at the dive bar located just off campus that everyone goes to atleast once in their four years.

Sir pentious

Majors in mechanical engineering or industrial design I can’t really decided. Definitely uses the 3D printer all the time and is on the robotics team, which wins every competition they go to.

Nifty

She’s changed her major so many times nobody knows anymore. Is part of the kpop club and has biases complete with intricately decorated covers, like she has so many photo cards. Also runs the campus hotties account where it’s just a bunch of candids of cute guys taken from far away. Will also get really pissed if you don’t wash your dishes bc it will attract bugs so if ur her roommate you better do the dam dishes.

Cherry bomb

Art major and is the one who got Angel the nude modeling gig. Is always pulling all nighters bc she kept postponing the assimgment till the last minute. Has probably vandalized a couple buildings surrounding the university but hasn’t been caught. Goes to raves and the aforementioned frat parties with Angel. Also has a traffic cone in her dorm room for no other reason than just bc.

Vox

Majors in multi media marketing, runs the campus tv and YouTube channel. Definitely the president of a frat that inflates his ego more than it already is. Always at sporting events at the front row with all the frat guys giving everyone the inside scoop and game commentary. Is very pissed that alastor won’t work with him. Treats himself like a campus celebrity even tho ppl could care less and are just trying to get their degree.

Valentino

majors in film and media productions yeah he’s one of those. Always asking if you’ve seen pulp fiction and telling you that you need to watch some random black and white movie that’s only in French. Will definitely invite you over to watch something with you but we all know that’s not the case. Also all his film projects has allot of unnecessary nudity and sex under the guise of artistic expression, even when it’s so not relevant to the plot. Unless it’s a film that he’s making for the university in which case Vox is controlling every aspect of it which in this case is a good thing. Smokes in his dorm room without a care in the world and has really loud inconsiderate sex at any random point in the 24 hour day cycle.

Velvette

Majors in public relations and runs the university’s Instagram account. She’s always walking up to ppl with a lil microphone to ask you to tell us what you’re wearing. Speaking off she always comes to class dressed up (like the international students) no leggings and tennis shoes for her. Also is definitely in a divine nine sorority, and runs their insta too.

Carmilla

She’s a professor for the aerospace engineering dept and shes here bc she got sick of making rockets for Lockheed Martin and reatheon. Hella smart and ppl are baffled that she chose to give up a seven figure job to teach a bunch of college kids but she’s so chill abt it tho.

Zestial

Definitely English lit professor, makes you read the books no one’s heard of and not the classics. Always brings his own open regular coffee mug from his house to sip his tea from instead of a thermos, everyone asks how he doesn’t spill it on his ride to work. Also just straight up has an electric kettle in his office so he can have tea whenever he wants. Takes turns with carmilla eating lunch in each other’s offices.

Rosie

Studies agriculture sciences and food processing. Will probably run a slaughter house when she’s done with her degree. Hangs out with Alastor in his radio booth from time to time just to gossip about whatever drama is going around lately. Wears long skirts and a tote bag all the time. Is always sweet to Charlie and Emily, also loathes Vox just as much as Alastor she just finds him annoying.

Lucifer

Is probably a religion professor that’s not religious at all and is super laid back in his class like one easy discussion board post a week. The kinda guy to be like “it’s so nice out let’s have class outside today guys” or “if I make this shot ur all getting extra credit on the quiz this week”.

Adam

Definitely majors in finance and is a frat boy. And his band plays at all the said frat parties. Is very insufferable to talk to at parties will try tell you how crypto is the currency of the future and how wolf of Wall Street is his favorite movie. Has a Saturdays are for the boys flag in his room and navy blue sheets. Oh did I mention he vapes he definitely vapes those Mike Tyson ones that taste awful and look like bricks yeah those. Always gets drunk at the tailgate way before the game is even started.

Lute

Yeah she’s in premed and wants everyone to know she’s better than you bc of it. Everyone else’s major is easy compared to hers so don’t you dare complain about all your assignments in her vicinity. She’s basically made it her whole identity like she’s in the premed honors society, future doctors of America. Types her notes on her laptop and then rewrites them with all her gel pens and fancy highlighters, like thee be so colorfull and pretty then the title would be something like blood clots. Still friends with Adam bc they went to the same highschool together and always helping him with his homework in turn he gets her into the tailgate tents and frat parties so she always gets free alcohol.

Emily

Majors in Elementary education and looks like it too, with the Stanley cup, James Avery charm bracelet, and all. She also takes super pretty notes but she does them in class which is super power all in itself, like her desk is scattered with gel pens and highlighters of every color and swears by her bullet journal. She also feeds the cats on campus with Charlie and runs the arts and crafts club on campus where they always host events like tote bag painting in the grass area of the university. Also doesn’t drink bc she’s not twenty one yet even tho she’s in college and definitely won’t smoke even tho most of the ppl that show up to her events are total potheads

Sera

She’s like the university president who doesn’t actually GAF abt the students and just fund’s athletics and raises tuition every year under miscellaneous fees. She tries to come off as supportive when she’s out in public but no one’s buying it.

[ace-race-ace]

The delusional Danny Ric fan make me so mad. (Not a Danny hate post)

You can tell most of them are purely in for the DTS-like drama (nothing wrong with the show itself as long as you take it with a grain of salt) who don’t understand anything about reality in a professional sport.

Why don’t they fire Checo??

Because he just recently signed a fucking contract! Do you know how hard and expensive it is to break something like that? Even with the “exit clauses” the teams still have to prove without a doubt that that Checo has breached them. That takes time and money. They much rather wait until the end of the season where they might have more “proof” and get the contract broken then, much easier. It’s also a question of reputation, the team doesn’t want to lose face and seem like they drop people harshly like this out of nowhere. That doesn’t bode well for fans, investors, and employees who would rather see a strong team.

B-but they fired Pierre and Alex like that!

Because those two were nobodies back then! At their time at RedBull, they never brought in a win. And of course the car was to blame at the time but as a team perspective, they had one incredible driver that was winning while his teammates were struggling to even stay in the points. Obviously they were going to try and change things up to see if they could get a better result. Those two didn’t have a big dedicated fan base yet, at least not as big as Checo’s. So switching them wouldn’t have as much impact.

Checo has been at RedBull for a while now and has proven he can win and get on the podium more consistently. He supported Max into getting his first WDC. He gave them their first driver championship 1-2. He’s got a hefty resume with them, getting rid of him isn’t as easy. If they do replace him, they won’t do when all the eyes are on them.

Danny also has a lot of wins at RedBull, and he’s a better driver!!!

He may be, maybe not. It’s so nonsensical to try and claim that another driver would immediately be better in that car. All the f1 cars are different, feel different, drive different. You can’t know for certain it won’t take a few races for Danny to get use to the car. Which displaces a driver who knows how to drive the RB20, Checo, which gives him a better chance of getting back up to form.

It also goes back to the point of how complicated it is to switch drivers like this. Both have contracts and are going to fight for their side. Danny can’t just swoop in, sign a contract and replace Checo. Checo can push against that. He’s been a driver at RedBull for a while now, living and breathing the brand while Danny has jumped around. So it’s beneficial to hang on to him at least till the end of the season.

Ugh it’s all about moneyyyy!

Yes. Welcome to how companies work. As long as they aren’t actively losing money by keeping Checo, they will wait until it is easier to get rid of him if they decide to do so. Checo is also incredibly popular in Mexico and other South American countries (and all around the world) which gets him a huge amount of sponsorship money. Danny is also well surrounded but he’s not as adored by a big country like Checo is. His sponsors won’t be as big. The thing he has going for him is a great PR persona, and that gets you pretty far until a certain point. And again, trying to fiddle with things now would cost RedBull a lot of money, so they will wait to make their move.

Do I believe in the whole Liberty Media/FIA meddling thing? Ehh maybe? They don’t actively have the power to tell RedBull to keep Checo but they might have used their data to discourage them from dropping Checo. In the end, it’s the company that makes the decision.

*keeps harassing the team and Checo*

Please stop. The team are never going to read shit immature fans post on social media and be like “oh yeah, they’re totally right! We need to fire Checo now!”. It just makes interacting with the content they post less enjoyable. You can watch a funny video of Checo and Max doing a challenge, and go to the comments to laugh at jokes people are making but instead it’s flooded with Checo haters that insult everything from his driving, his looks, his personality, his RACE in some extreme cases. It’s so annoying, and the poor admins that probably have to comb through all that, waisted time. Meanwhile people spam shit about Danny being better. Bro, these driver are just trying to do their job. Again, Checo isn’t going to read “Danny ric is better” and be like “oh shit they’re right, let me quit the job I’ve worked my entire life for!”. It just causes unnecessary hate and pain for everyone involved. Even Danny probably doesn’t enjoy how his “fans” are handling this shit. It only puts pressure on him to do something when he knows he can’t. And he’s on good terms with Checo and team as far as I can tell but constantly harassing/hating is only going to strain that relationship.

Please have some media literacy. Stop harassing people. And stop treating this sport like fictional story.

Sorry for the rant. Had to get it off my chest. (Btw, I don’t hate Danny or DTS fans so no need to come attack me in my inbox about that 😆)

[majaloveschris]

Hi Maja.

First of all, your blog is one of the only ones I’ve always felt was sincere, on point, respectful, and not toxic. I’ve always had a good feeling about you and how you are kind despite all the toxicity on here.

That feeling has never wavered and there is a big part of me that wants you to be right and win against these ridiculous anons that seem to want to put you down.

An opinion (which I don’t claim to be fact, just some thoughts here): I see a lot of takes on here popping up from blogs that claim they have PR knowledge and claim to be experts and read and follow along the gossip, but I think nobody really knows and they can only hypothesize on what they think is the truth.

I think CE being married (by public knowledge and Wikipedia) was the main goal here. I’ve always sort of felt this, which is why I ultimately was not surprised after he did his SMA spread that he went public with Fish girl and then later on “got married.”

The reason I say this is because HW and society is very judgmental and superficial. Being single or unmarried at a certain age always raises questions whether or not it is valid to do so. I disagree with this sentiment but unfortunately the world is how it is. It happens to regular people, so why wouldn’t it apply to celebs? Especially the ones who have basically become a pop culture icon of being an eligible bachelor/desirable.

Let’s think about this. After 2019, CE was no longer under the marvel umbrella. He had to start defining his post marvel career, and then Covid hit. So many things derailed. He randomly got an IG in 2020 but people found out it had existed as an account since 2019. Perhaps it was always the plan or it was a plan hatched by his PR team to keep him in the public eye. He became relatable internet BF with a Prince Charming storyline of when will he find the one? It was almost overkill from 2020-2022.

Now it’s 2024 and he’s supposedly been with this woman since 2021. It shows longevity and then eventual commitment. He now wears a ring in public so they see him as “settled down.” That’s the image he is now portraying for the public who doesn’t dig or care to deeper in his life.

I don’t think it’s about rebranding to attract a younger audience - if so, his pr team would have realized that gen Z actually does not fare well to age gaps and the subject of grooming and etc always comes up for this hypersensitive on PC/wokeness generation. Then add on the racism and weird ass crap from her/her friends. Definitely not boding well for a generation that lives on the internet and knows how to deep dive. His PR team would have looked at how the public reacted to other relationships like this and I feel, if it was simply he was in love with her and it was real real, would have told him to keep it on the DL DL until it was absolutely certain they had walked down the aisle. At that point, there would be no turning back.

But they marketed this before that happened. They wanted to portray her as the one similar to how in movies, they want to portray a main character and love interest as meant to be even if the audience may or may not receive it that way. How many times do we hear “this movie tanked because the leads had no chemistry and the relationship they wanted us to believe was not believable?”

But ultimately, the endgoal of if CE and his wife are a good couple or not doesn’t really matter. They have achieved their goal of he is now settled down and no longer on the market. If you choose to continue to follow him, stay for his career and not his personal life. Meanwhile, her - well, they’ll keep trying to make her happen because her end of the deal was getting more visibility and breaking into the American market. That much has been clear.

But you can lead a horse to water, you can’t make it drink.

What she chooses to do with the opportunities given to her are left to be seen. Also, how the public and CE/her fanbases chooses to receive them are also left to be seen.

Will this marriage last forever? I have doubts. But I do think they considered many options and this is what they came up with. I also don’t believe CE’s actions show he is very happy with the arrangement, even less so than fish is. Because even from the subtle clues from photos and “videos” - body language does not lie.

To be fair to fish, I doubt she’s in love with him either. I think she’s getting more benefits from this because most of the negativity is being directed towards him, not her. His fans hating and harassing her are just a pinnacle of what he’s receiving from his own fanbase. Some people will disagree with me but he’s the one getting the P and G and disgusting comments and being called the worst person on earth because he married her. His own fans are turning on him and her fans can also blame him but victimize her. The general public doesn’t care too much but will say how he looks because he got with her. She remains “innocent” of any blame because at the end, she is young and he is older so he should know better. Do you see what I mean?

Meanwhile, her fans are just happy she’s getting attention and somebody to fund her poor attempts at becoming a fashion icon. She lacks in talent and work ethic but it’s an easy way for her to get engagement by being attached to him.

The day this ends and she no longer has his name will be interesting and that’s what I think his fans (remaining) are hoping for. They don’t want to reward laziness and clout chasing opportunist and I too support this. They want HIM to be better and find success and love himself more so he doesn’t continue to end up in these shitty situations. But again, he has to want that for himself. He has to want to deserve better so he can work on actually deserving of better.

I hope I didn’t offend anyone with this opinion. Just my thoughts and I support YOU. I hope things work out in the end in your favor because you are a great person and I selfishly want you to be right (haha). ❤️

I completely agree with everything that you wrote down. 

I remember seeing people criticize him for saying he wants to get married and have a family, yet he is still single and childless. As you said, it's stupid that people are being bullied and judged because they haven't already settled down, even if they wanted to. Finding a partner is hard, and finding a partner in his shoes is even harder. I obviously don't know whether he actually wants all of that, but saying he must not want all of that because he didn't do so is not right. A lot of people struggle with finding a good partner. 

I never agreed with people calling him by the P and G words. I guess these people either don't know what those words mean or are simply that mad as Chris that they feel the need to spread lies. He is not those things and never was. Yeah, 16 years is a lot, but she was a grownup when they allegedly met, and I think people exaggerate when they say she looks like a child. 

I think the reason most people are hateful towards him is because they are disappointed in him. I think most people had an idea about the person he is based on the information we had, and him being married to someone like her or even dating someone like her doesn't really fit into that. People aren't disappointed in her because most didn't even know who she was before Chris. We were just presented with her actual self, and we didn't have any expectations from her. But we had for him. 

I doubt either of them is in love with each other. Alba doesn't seem that happy or comfortable around him either. I think this is just business for both of them.

I still think he is a good man who made a terrible mistake. I just hope the best for him, to be honest, which I know is an unpopular opinion now because it seems like wanting the worst for him is what is trendy nowadays. Maybe I'm naive; maybe I'm just holding onto an image, but I don't think the last 20+ years were a lie. I hope he will prove me right. 

Thanks for writing this down and for being there. ♥

[rafferty3207]

not to be impatient or ungrateful but too good to be true part 3 when 😩

its funny you say that today of all days bestie

Too Good to Be True (part three)

warning: fem!reader, passing mention of creepy dude, angst (but only at the beginning dw), then tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I hope you like this ending! in my mind this is done but not over - I will definitely be doing drabbles of this pair in future, but for now I hope you enjoy!

____

part one | part two

“Oi, prick, are you even paying attention?” Roy barks at Jamie, who is sitting staring at his phone.

“Er, yeah, coach, it’s just -just-”

“Just what? Spit it out?”

“How do ya access your voicemails?”

“Jamie. What the fuck are you talking about?”

He holds up the screen to Roy’s face.

You have a new voicemail.

“Jamie, I wouldn’t worry about it, it's probably some berk trying to sell you organic viagra or something. Now please can we get back to the football?”

“I just need to check Coach. To make sure of…something, but I’ve never listened to a voicemail before.”

“Christ you find new ways to make me feel old Jamie.” But before he can make another comment, Roy notices the sad look in Jamie’s eyes. He hasn’t been his usual irritating self this morning, no sassy quips or anything, and he looks like he’s barely slept. “Who are you expecting a voicemail from?”

Jamie looks up at him with those puppy dog eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s that girl isn’t it? What did you do now, you silly twat?” 

“I didn’t do anything. I mean I kissed her -”

“Oh my god, that Simone Biles bollocks was about her wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it's an inside joke-”

“Hand me the phone.”

“Er, I dunno-”

“Just give it, Jamie.” Jamie reluctantly passes it over. “You dial a three digit number, which will access your number. You’re on the same network as me so-” Roy types the digits and hands it back. “But once you’re done, you’re doing 50 press ups for wasting my fucking time.” Roy goes into another room.

Jamie raises the phone to his ear tentatively. Of course, it’s you.

___

The gallery session had been, in polite terms, a complete shit show. You were late because you couldn’t figure out how to get into the building, then you couldn't find some of the papers with your plan on them, and therefore you spent several hours using what little you have of your phone battery to try and improvise a plan from your memories. You’re finally done, but by this point it’s almost midnight.

“This is your first exhibition, isn’t it?” Simon, the gallery owner looks at you hunched over, shoving the papers back in the bag.

“Yeah, how did you guess? Don’t answer that, that was sarcasm.” You say, continuing to scramble. “So what’s happening PR wise? Are we sending press releases, inviting reviewers, that sort of thing?”

Simon scoffs. 

“What? I get it I'm a nobody, but what about the big Emin retrospective you’ve got coming up in October? I’ve seen posters for that everywhere.”

“That’s pretty much all her team. Besides, when you’re Emin you don’t need the PR really. Of course, we’ll do our best and we’ve got it on our website and social media of course, but our comms person resigned so at the moment we’re a rather limited team. This is such a short period, it’s an interim show. It’s why we could offer it, but you knew that right?”

“Mhmm, yeah, of course.” You say, biting your lip. You don’t know what you expected, instead wearily picking up your bag.

“Right, I best head off, but I’ll see you in two days!” You power walk off while your voice can still sound fake cheerful. Now how do I go back from here? You wonder, pulling your phone out.

Of course, it dies at that very moment.

“Shit!”

___

You eventually manage to navigate home, although the walk takes three times as long especially after one man seems to walk right behind you for ages until you get to the high street and the tube stops running mid way through, so you have to persuade a nice older woman to look up the bus route on her phone. As you walk into your house and flop onto the couch, you remember.

Jamie.

Fuck. You hoped he didn’t take your note the wrong way. You plug your phone in and sit huddled until the screen turns back on.

11 missed calls. 13 messages.

hey Simone xoxo

out at drinks at the moment but I’ll be back asap xoxo

theres a cocktail i think you’d like here  xoxo

on my way home now! xoxo

where are you xoxo

u alright

u ok???

Where are you??

Just let me know ur home safe (or dont if u dont want to)

Im not asking to be creepy sorry if it came off like that

Im sorry if i scared you off

i shouldn’t have kissed you

Lets just forget it happened

Sorry again

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Let’s just forget it happened. You felt sick to your stomach. You picked up the phone with incredibly shaky hands and pressed the dial button.

_____

“Er, hey Jamie, it’s me. Sorry to leave you a voicemail, it feels old school doesn’t it? I don’t even know how to listen to my own voicemails, not sure why I’m sending you one. Well I do, I’ve rung a few times and you’re not picking up and everytime I try and say what I want in a text it comes off wrong - ugh, sorry I’m rambling. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t reply, my phone has been dead the whole way home and I had to try and find my way back and the tube is shit and buses are shit and all I wanted was for you to come and pick me up in that ugly orange car of yours but I couldn’t. So that’s that. Did you get my note? I completely forgot but I had the exhibition planning session today and everything that could possibly go wrong did and it’s been a fucking nightmare and to be honest Jamie, I don’t know why I’m doing it anymore. I thought this was my one chance to finally become a big shot artist but it turns out I have to market it basically all by myself and I have no time and know barely anyone so let’s be honest, no one is going to come and it will all be forgotten about and I will prove once again I am the failure my father thinks I am.”

Jamie hears a shuddering intake of breath.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again. I’m sorry Jamie. I really did mean to wait for you. I’ve still got your shirt and everything. It’s just, I’m so stressed and I need to finish these paintings but also why should I finish these paintings but also I want them to be perfect and - and - and I don’t want to do this over voicemail but I don’t want to forget about us but also I have so much work to do and I’m so fucked -”

Jamie listens to you choke down a sob, before sniffing.

“I have to go, but call me back or something. Or maybe I could see you at the exhibit? You’ll probably be the only one attending. Goodbye, Jamie. Sorry again.”

Jamie’s heart was breaking, but not in the way he expected. You were so strong for him but all the while there you were, clearly dealing with your own shit and struggling and he hadn’t even noticed. He hated the idea that he had made things worse.

Now, he knew what he had to do.

___

It is the opening night of the exhibit and you are adjusting your hair for the fiftieth time. The gallery had extended their publicity to a small private view with a few glasses of wine and bottles of beer, but that was it. So you had spent the last three days painting almost non-stop, sending the invitations to everyone you know and barely sleeping. You just hoped your makeup would cover the dark circles under your eyes. You had worn your favourite dress and done your hair especially so you would at least feel like the real deal, but that was quickly waning. 

It had been fifteen minutes and not one single person had showed up. The one event staff was already looking at you as if to ask whether they could go home early. You started to look at your phone while downing the glass of wine in your hand. Still not a word from Jamie. You hadn’t heard from him since you sent the voicemail and you felt embarrassed just thinking about it. It seemed like you were going to need more wine.

But then, a man enters. He is wiry, with a blazer and a glorious grey and black shoulder length mane. He is holding a notebook and looking around keenly. You have no fucking idea who he is.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah yes, I’m Trent Crimm.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“I’m here for the exhibit Everything In Its Right Place.” You nod, dumbstruck. “Ah, great, don’t mind me.”

You watch him as he looks at each painting before scribbling in his notepad. That was strange.

After him walks in one of the most beautiful women you have seen, followed by a small man wearing glasses.

“Hello, welcome to the Private View!” You say a little bit too loudly, and you worry that the wine may have gone to your head. The woman leans over to you and of course she smells beautiful too. “Hello, I’m Rebecca. Is it alright if some of my friends come in too?”

“Absolutely, the more the merrier!”

A couple more glamorous women file in, as well as some fancy looking older gentlemen in suits. Behind them is a colourful blond haired woman with an Essex accent and a very fluffy jacket, talking about how her PR firm which is on the hunt for new talent. You made a mental note to talk to her later, and as you do she looks over at you and winks, which makes you feel flustered. 

The events staff comes over.

“Are they on the guest list?”

“Oh yeah.” You keenly nod, hoping they are not paid enough to grass you up.

And then walks in a very familiar moustachioed man.

“Why, you must be the modern Louise Bourgeois our Jamie has been speaking so highly of.” You don’t expect the honeyed Southern twang and you find yourself blushing. He’s more handsome than the small picture by Jamie’s bed gave away.

“I wish! Although Jamie knew who Louise Bourgeois was?”

“I mean, I think he is more of a Georgia O’Keefe guy. But I love old Lou Lou. Art is a guarantee-”

“Of sanity. Very impressive -?”

“Theodore Lasso, at your service ma’am. Although my friends call me Ted.”

“Are we friends?”

“I sure hope to be. Jamie will not stop going on about how great you are, so I thought I best see it in person myself.” He offers a hand and you feel yourself go even redder.

“Well, it is lovely to make your acquaintance, Ted.” 

You see Trent’s head has whipped around this point and he is striding towards Ted.

“Ted you’re going to love these paintings -” Trend hooks his arm in Teds and Ted waves you a goodbye as he is quickly dragged off. 

You see all of Jamie’s teammates file in after Ted, including Roy who gives you a little nod. They have all brought people with them, including some women who you swear might be famous models, and before long the room is densely packed. You can’t believe it. You even have a few people come up to you to ask for interviews, and once the Trent man has sufficiently shown Ted around the room several times over, he asks if you want to be profiled for one of the big papers.

“I’ve always liked highlighting promising new talent in any field, and I feel you’d be a great match.” He smiles at you and you feel your stomach start to fizz. The one waiter who has been frantically pouring drinks for the last half hour runs over to you.

“A couple of people want to buy the paintings, are they for sale?”

“All the ones without red dots are, yeah.”

“How much do they cost?”

“How much are they willing to pay?” The waiter runs off and comes back, handing a long list of offers. Your eyes boggle at the amount.

“Fuck me.”

“Someone said they wanted to snap you up before Satchel did or something?”

“I assume they mean Saatchi.” The waiter shrugs. “Call Simon, he’ll help with the sales.

“I don’t think he’ll pick-”

“Send him a picture of the offers. He’ll definitely pick up.”

The waiter hurries off and you stare at the piece of paper. You can’t believe all this is happening. But you still check your phone.

Are you coming?

No reply.

“Ted? I don’t suppose you heard anything from Jamie did you?”

He smiles and taps his nose.

“I’m afraid I was sworn to secrecy.”

You get back to your wine. That would be a weird response if he had told Ted he never wanted to see you again. But the whole day was starting to feel very weird. You decided to pop out for some fresh air.  However, as you walk outside you see a very familiar orange car parked outside. In the driver's seat is Jamie in a suit, holding flowers, staring at his phone.

“You know, I didn't order an Uber.”

Jamie jumps.

“Jesus woman, you nearly scared the living daylights out of me!”

“I could say the same of you. Can I come in?”

He gestures to the seat next to him. You walk around and slide into the car. 

“You look stunning.” Jamie says, looking over you and you suddenly feel very naked in this dress.

“Thanks. It’s certainly an improvement from when you usually pick me up.” You fiddle with your hem. “So can you tell me why you’re sitting outside my exhibit instead of going inside? You’re the only person here who is actually on the guest list.”

He looks back down at the flowers.

“I dunno. I guess I was worried you might not want to see me after, y'know" He nods his head towards you. The kiss. Before you can reply, he starts talking again. "That’s why I got everyone else here first.”

“This was all you?”

He looks out the front of the window.

“I mean the boys wanted to come anyway, but I spoke to Rebecca and Ted and Keeley. It was Ted’s idea to invite Trent, because he knows lots of people at papers, and Keeley knows people through her firm and Rebecca knows loads of rich guys because I dunno, she’s rich and fit -”

You reach over and gently touch his arm.

“Thank you Jamie, this means a lot - ”

“Any time. I just want you to be happy, you know?” You grip his arm a little tighter.

 “But you didn’t have to do any of this. I would have been happy if you were the only person who showed up.” Jamie finally looks at you. You just stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing. At this point you reach over and tenderly place your lips on his. He doesn't resist, immediately putting his hand on the side of your neck. Your hands start wandering down his torso before he pulls away suddenly.

“I don't want you thinking I'm trying to buy you or something. Me and Roy watched Pretty Woman the other week but I swear-"

"I know Jamie. Besides, you haven't even bought a painting yet." You try to laugh him off but he holds you firm.

"I just want you to remember you earned this. You are really, really talented, it's just - it's just everyone needs help sometimes"

You are suddenly struck silent for a moment, your eyes watering.

"Ah fuck, I didn't want to make you cry again!"

You sniff. "This is good crying though, I swear! I just never realised you were so wise."

"Oi you cheeky mare, I'm trying to be nice!" You both laugh, before he reaches over and threads his fingers between yours. "I think I’m in love with you, you know?"

He looks up at you, uncertain. Your stomach is fizzing, but in a way that makes you feel like you could fly. You smile.

"I know. The thing is, I'm in love with you too, Jamie Tartt." You stare at each other, before your lips crash into each other, your hands crawling all over your torsos and necks, your breathing becoming more ragged before Jamie pulls away again.

"Now come on you, this is your big night, remember. We better get inside before we have to go right here in the back like a pair of teenagers."

You place a hand on his thigh. "I mean, that sounds good to me."

""You are gonna be the death of me, I swear." He opens the car door. 

"Actually, to be fair there is one painting I think you should see."

The two of you stroll into the gallery holding hands.

"Fucking finally." Roy exclaims, before patting Jamie on the shoulder. "Now don't fuck it up Jamie, I like this one." You and Roy share a smile. You felt like you had something to thank him for, but you weren’t sure what.

"I see you met Jamie." You turn around to see a small old woman in colourful clothing.

“Sylvia? What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t back for another week?”

Sylvia gestures to a handsome older gentleman in the corner “Of course I had to see your exhibit darling! Now don’t worry darling, I’m staying with one of my good friends.” She winks before leaning in conspiratorially. “You’ll have the flat all to yourself.”

“Sylvia!” You swat her arm.

“What? Your mother told me you were going through a dry spell. I’m just so glad you and Jamie finally got to meet.”

Your mouth is agape. You said that months and months ago -

“Jamie darling, it's so nice to see you again!” Sylvia airkisses Jamie, before swanning off. You lean into the crook of Jamie's shoulder. You’d say you hate how natural it feels, but you fucking love it.

“Do you think Sylvia set this whole thing up? Between you and me?”

“Well, she did keep telling me she knew the perfect woman for me, with a fantastic arse-”

“Jamie!” You poke his cheek. “Although speaking of fantastic arse, let me show you my painting!” You drag him over to the biggest painting in the room. It is rich and vibrant and while somewhat abstract, almost definitely a nude. “What do you think?”

“I think it will be perfect in my living room. Well, almost perfect.”

“Almost? What else could be more perfect than this?” You gesture to the bum cheeks.

Jamie rolls his head as if mulling it over.

“You?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god Jamie Tartt, where did you pick up such a naff line? You’re lucky you are very handsome.” You reach up to kiss him, your fingers brushing his neck and jaw. and he leans to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, now you’re gonna be a famous artist now, someone may actually try to kidnap you. You might need some form of security.”

“True. Do you know anyone?”

“No.” You laugh. “But I do know an excellent driver. And he does know a lot of excellent private spots.”

“How soon can he start?”

“How about right now?” You take his hand in yours.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

---

Ah hope you all enjoyed this two silly billys in love! Pls send me requests of any headcanons/drabbles you'd be interested in seeing that I can bash out while working on this new juicy Roy Kent fic!!

@thebookwormlife @taytaylala12 @eugene-emt-roe @skewcherries @okkkkkkkksure @beingalive1 @gothicwidowsworld @atjamesbbarnes @e-mmygrey

[camatchoum]

What about us...

Timothée Chalamet x reader

Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Summary : You and Timothée are dating in secret. You both want to keep the privacy. But what will happen when his PR team has a new great idea?

Words : 6.4K

Disclaimer: Sorry if there are any faults, english isn't my first language. Absolutely no hate to Kylie or their couple. That's just for the story. Hope you enjoy this final part.

My masterlist

You spent a wonderful week with Timothée. There were no fake dates on the calendar. Of course, you couldn’t really go outside, not often at least or not without being disguised, but it was like before, so it didn’t bother you at all. You still went on walks, and you even went to the movies to see the new Hunger games. All you could say is that you weren’t sure if Snow was really that bad after all, but you are afraid it’s only because Tom Blyth is really cute. That didn’t make Timothée happy, so of course you liked to tease mister jealous about it.

You two were currently at the airport waiting for both Tom and Zendaya. Nobody recognised him. I mean, it’s not that hard to hide, and just in case you weren’t cuddling or anything. You did that when you were on the plane. It happened only one time when one person recognised him but everyone thought you were his secretary or someone “not important”.

“Y/N!!!!” You hear someone scream. And you recognised Zendaya and Tom both with caps and sunglasses who were running to you. You are nearly knocked over when she finally puts her arms around you.

“Oh my god, Z!!!” You laugh. You give her a big hug, then you do the same to Tom. “It’s a wonder how we manage to stay incognito with the two of you screaming like this” everybody shares a laugh before you and Timothée take your suitcases and follow Tom and Zendaya to Tom’s car. When you were about to go in, Timothée got a call from his manager, so you waited for him.

“F*ck ! Why right now?!” he swears quietly.

“What? What happened? “ You ask, and all three of you look up at him.

“Jack just told me that I have to go wait for Kylie’s private jet to land.” He looks directly at you, knowing you wouldn’t like that. But he doesn’t like this either. He wants to spend much more time with you.

“Okay you go do that.” You tell him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He knows that, he can see it.

“I’m really sorry, mon cœur. I promise it will be over very soon and I’ll join you later so we can visit a little bit of the city.”

“Yeah okay” you mumble, causing him to sigh. He takes you in his arms, and you reciprocate the hug.

“I love you” he kisses your head.

“I love you too”

You don’t look at him when he takes his suitcase and goes back inside the airport, without his disguise this time. People have to see him with his girlfriend anyway. You don’t know if you are overreacting or not. It’s just that you were supposed to spend time with him in Brazil, a country where both of you never went. You know it’s not because last week nothing happened that this PR idea was over. But a part of you wanted to believe it anyway. Just two weeks right? You sigh loudly and then recompose yourself. Two weeks and your boyfriend is completely yours again, and the world will finally know.

You turn around and go inside Tom’s car, with him being in the driver’s seat and Z right next to him. You go on the back seat and buckle your belt. When you finally look up, you see the both of them looking at you with a look between concern and compassion.

“What?” you say. They look at each other before looking back at you.

“Are you okay?” Tom asks.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y/n...”

“He promised that he’ll be joining me later to visit the city, so that’s fine” you cut her off. Not wanting to talk about it. You have to see the positive.

You then look at the window, silently telling them you are done with this conversation. They look at each other again before Tom starts the car. Zendaya puts on some music. A good Rihanna blasts inside the car, and you get your smile on your face. You don’t want to be too moody and you want to have a good time with your friends. You don’t see them very often, after all.

The three of you first went to the hotel to get rid of all your stuff. You were supposed to take a quick nap after the early morning you just pulled off, but you were too excited to wait any longer. So you immediately changed into something a little more convenient for the weather and went out. You spend the entire afternoon just exploring the city. Of course, you had to try a snack or two, and it was so delicious. You even took a lot of pictures.

You didn’t want to, but you spent a lot of time checking your phone for Timothée to text you that he was coming, which never happened. It was dinner time when you said to Tom and Z that you were going back to the hotel. You wanted to go wait for Timothée so that you could eat together. And you knew that they wanted a little moment for themselves.

And now here you are, sitting on the double bed. Waiting for your boyfriend to come so you can both go out again.

And you wait, and wait, and wait again. When the clock hits 9pm, you decide to stop having hope. You change into your pyjamas and just scroll on your phone. You want to call Z to talk, but you don’t want to be a bother in their date.

It is 10 pm when the door of your hotel room opens. You told him that you would leave a key at the reception for him. You look up from your phone. Timothée closes the door, and when he finally turns around, you can see his guilty face. At least he knows he fuckep up.

“Hey...” He approaches you and sits on the bed right next to your laying form. He lifts his hand like he wants to touch you, but he drops it with a sigh.

“I know what you are going to say. Don’t worry about it.” You say with your eyes down.

“You and I both know it’s not okay”

“Yeah I know. And I’m glad you know too. You promised you will be there. I don’t even understand how it took you so long just to see her at her jet.”

“I really thought it would be just waiting for her and like carrying her luggage while people watched us.” He pauses for a moment. “But Jack had other plans for us. They wanted us to go around a few spots in the city. I suppose you saw my stories on Instagram.” You did. They were of a few places in the city, and in some of them, you could see Kylie’s silhouette. That definitely made the fans crazy. “Since tomorrow is the convention, they wanted us to take a lot of pictures to post later. I don’t even remember how many times I had to change, so people would think we are on vacation.” He looks at you for a reaction. You don’t say anything. He already knows what you are feeling. “I also had a little talk with Jack and Linda that tomorrow we are going official”

“How?”

“After the panel, they want me to like go off stage and hug her. And while doing so, she will say that she loves me and the mic will catch it so everybody can hear.”

“That will make them lose their minds.”

“Yeah pretty much.” He chuckles with a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry for everything. You know if I could I would have spent the day with you.”

“I know that. It’s just so frustrating. I don’t know if I can go on like this much longer.” You say while playing with his fingers.

“I told you that it’s all going to end soon. I don’t think there will be too much left after that. The Wonka premiere is in two weeks, and I think they planned for us just to post the pictures that we took together. And then I’ll delete them all, and people will think it’s over.”

“Okay. I hope you are right.”

And with that, he goes to change before joining you on the bed. He puts on The Lion King because he knows it’s a comfort movie for you. You were cuddling into him when you heard his soft snores. You aren’t feeling sleepy like him. You are too afraid for that. Afraid of what’s going to happen tomorrow. Afraid of seeing her telling him that she loves him and him saying it back. He wasn’t supposed to, but you couldn’t shake the thought out of your head. And what will people think anyway? What if they liked your boyfriend with her and two weeks later he showed up with you at the premiere? You will certainly get a lot of hate for “breaking them”. You finally drift into unconsciousness due to exhaustion.

The next morning, you woke up and got ready to go to the convention. Jack already gave the pass to Timothée yesterday. When he emerges from the bathroom, he sees you waiting for him at the door. He can see that you are lost in your head, probably thinking of what’s about to occur today. Of course, he understands why. He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that this whole situation is hurting you. It all will be worth it when you’ll be on his arm in two weeks.

“Hey Y/n?” You come out of your daydreaming session to see Timothée walking to you. “Do you think you could tell your head to stop saying bad things to you. It’s really pretty, but sometimes it needs to shut up.” He grins and opens his arms. You roll your eyes.

“Well it would stop if my curly head didn’t agree to this thing” you say with sarcasm. Of course you knew that he didn’t have a choice. He stings his tongue at you.

“What’s on your mind right now?”

“You know what. Remember the rule?”

“Yep no kissing on the lips. I can assure you I want yours and only yours” he says and kisses you. “I. Only. Want. Those. Sweet. Puffy. Lips” he says with a kiss between each word.

“Okay okay stop it now.” You giggle. “Come on, I want to see what outfit they prepared for you.”

And you both go downstairs to catch up with your best friends before you go into the cars. Zendaya and Timothée in one and Tom and you in the other one. There will be fans waiting for their entry, and while you couldn’t be seen for obvious reasons, Tom doesn’t like unnecessary attention, so he will stay hidden with you.

When you arrive, you go with Tom to do a little walk before the panel. See the place while Z and Timothée are in the dressing rooms with Florence and Austin. And you suppose Kylie is there too. When it was time for you to go back to the panel, you both took your seats. It wasn’t too far but not in the middle either.

Music begins to be heard, and the people start to scream like crazy. You are really wondering if your ears won’t try to fund a way to fall off your body to survive.

And soon enough, the panel begins with DenisVilleneuve join soon enough by Austin, Florence, and Zendaya. She wears a white dress that makes her look divine. Well, you think that’s a good way to describe her since that’s the word that felt from Tom’s lips when he saw her. Of course, you agree with him. You tease him about it, but shut your mouth pretty fast when Timothée walks on stage.

“Woaw” you whisper.

“Now I think we can both agree that I’m not the only whipped person here.” Tom grins.

“Oh shut up” you both laugh.

You listen to everybody on stage talk about the movie and its production, the process of everything. You, of course, are listening very closely. You are obviously a fan of your boyfriend, but you also loved Dune part 1. It is really the kind of movie you love to watch. You are so excited when they let you watch the first 10 minutes of the movie. I'm so excited that Tom has to use all his strength, so you will stop gripping his arm like a maniac. When the clip is over and the questions from the fans begin to be asked, you remember what was about to happen. The panel will be over soon, and so will the world know about them. You start to feel nervous so you try to relax a little. Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to go as planned.

The audience starts to clap loudly, and you realise the panel is ending. You can feel your heart beats loudly in your chest. You see Denis, Austin, Florence, and Z walk out before Timothée follows them. From here, you can see Kylie jumping into his arms. They are in the perfect place, hide enough so the fans think they aren’t supposed to see them, but not hide enough so not even one person can’t see them. They both hug pretty tightly, and then they loosen a little to look at each other.

“I love you” Kylie says. And like planned, the mic catches it and everybody starts to scream. They act like they are in shock, but when the screams got louder that’s your mouth that opens wide.

They are kissing. On the lips. They. Are. Kissing. On. The. Lips. The only rule was no kissing on the lips. And yet, right now, her lips are on his. You feel the tears in your eyes, and before you can see much longer, you run to the exit.

What you didn’t see is Timothée pushing her away immediately. He’s looking at her with disbelief. And when they go in the back, he takes Kylie’s hand to take her to his dressing room before shutting the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he screams at her. He is just so angry. He knows you saw it, he knows it was like a sacred rule. And he’s so angry because when he looked for you he only found Tom looking in every directions to find you.

“What the fuck is wrong with YOU?! Why did you do that?! It was all planned remember” Kylie strikes back.

“This freaking kiss wasn’t!”

“Well I was feeling the moment, and I felt like we needed to kiss. What’s the big deal anyway?”

“The problem is that I have a girlfriend, and the only rule that we had was no kissing!” he said and just storms off. He has to talk to you right now. He can’t even imagine what’s going on inside your head. On his way out, he fell into Zendaya. Who seemed to be looking for him.

“Timothée Hal Chalamet, what did you do?!” She whispers angrily at him. “I just saw Tom's text saying that he can’t find Y/N”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I swear.” He says, completely desperate. “We were not supposed to kiss, I promised it to her, and now I just broke another one.”

“You better go fix this” it’s all Zendaya says. She don’t want to be mad at him. She knows how hard it’s for him because he can’t control anything while he’s the one that has to do all the reparations.

He just sighs and goes again to the exit. But unfortunately, now it’s both Jack and Linda who stop him.

“What?!” Timothée asks clearly annoyed.

“”First you calm down, and second, we are going to talk about the panel.” Jack says.

“I’m sorry. Can we talk about this later? I really have to do something very important.”

“We can talk about that later if you want.” Timothée feels relieved, but Jack had to open his mouth again. “But we have to talk about our little arrangement.”

“What about it?” Timothée asks. He knows he is talking about the ending part of the plan. He looks at Linda for an answer.

“We decided that we were not going to end anything before Wonka was out.” She tells him, and Timothée’s face becomes pale.

“What do you mean? We had an accord. Everything is ending before the Wonka premiere. I can’t do this anymore, guys.”

“We don’t understand why we couldn't go any longer. If your relationship with Kylie stops here, you could say goodbye to your career. People will definitely know it was just a PR thing, and we are all going to be affected really badly. You can say goodbye to any more roles because even if you are in a new movie, people won’t want to see a liar. Wonka will be a disaster and Dune 2, too.”

“I don’t care. It has to stop.”

“Let me be clear” Jack puts his hands on his shoulders. “You don’t have a choice here. It’s either you continue or you lose everything.” He says sternly.

Timothée shrugs his hands off of him and storms off. He feels so angry but also so desperate to find you. He met with Zendaya and Tom to go back to the hotel. It feels like the longest drive of his life. When they are there, he jumps out of the car and runs to your room.

He opens the door and when he enters the sight before him breaks his heart. You are fully crying on the bed. Your back facing the door. When you hear the door shuts, you turn around. He can see your puffy eyes. You stand up and whip your tears away before walking up to him.

“You promised.” You say sternly. “You promised you would take me from the airport. You promised that we would spend time together to visit the city. You promised you wouldn’t go that far with her.” You aren’t screaming at him. You are stating the facts. What you are saying is that you are hurt by all of this.

“I know, okay. I messed up a lot for the last few months.” He starts crying. “I know how much I’m hurting you, and I can’t do anything about it. I’m just so sorry. I prom- I swear the kiss wasn’t planned. I immediately pulled off of her and took her away. I screamed at her right away, and then I stormed off to get to you.” He sniffles. “It’s killing me that I have to do this, and now that this isn’t ending anymore like I thought it was I-“

“Wait what? You’re telling me that it’s not over?”

“I- I know I promised, and I was so sure it was the end. But Jack told me on my way out that there was no way that we would stop this. They said that if we stop now, then people will find out that it was pur bullshit and that my career will be over.”

“Okay...” You just say. You turn around and take your suitcase out.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He starts to freak out.

“I’m leaving okay.” You state while you begin to pack. He tries to take your arm away from your clothes, but you yank it back before turning to look at him. “I can’t do this anymore, Timmy. I won’t. It’s hurting me too much. And what about us?! We are not really together since this whole thing started. We are hurting too much to go on like this.”

“Don’t talk like that. I know we are hurting, but we can do this. We just go on a little longer, then when it’s over, we can be like before. Just the two of us. I will end everything. I will tell everyone the truth and everything will stop.”

“You can’t do that. You know how much I want this to be over.” You chuckle sadly. You take his hands in both of yours before looking into his eyes. “You know that if you tell the truth, then people will call you a liar. Your career will be over. And if we add me in the equation, everybody will think that you were cheating on Kylie. We would get so much hate. It’s the same outcome either way.”

“Please don’t do this” he pleas. “I can’t live without you.”

“I’m doing this for me, for you. We can’t go on like this. This is breaking us apart. I can’t watch you be with her and wait for you to be with me.”

“I promise I can change.”

“You and I both know that you can’t. I know you want to. I know that every promise that you didn’t keep wasn’t because you didn’t want to do so. But every time, this fake relationship is going to come our way.”

“I’m so in love with you Y/N Y/L/N” he sniffles. He knows he can’t do anything about it. You are putting a stop to this because it hurts the two of you too much.

“And I’m so in love with you too Timothée Chalamet. I will always love you. This isn’t me falling out of love with you. This is me choosing us.” You finish your suitcase before taking everything and going to the door. You turn one last time around to see Timothée watching you. His cheeks are so wet from all the tears that still fall from his red eyes.

“I’m going to miss you.” He says and takes you into his arms. You put your head on his chest, wanting to hear his heartbeat one last time. You don’t want to do this, but you have to.

“I’ll miss you too.” You stand back and finally open the door. You stop and look back at him when he begins to talk again.

“I love you”

“Really really really?” You smile. That is the saddest smile anyone has ever seen.

“Really really really.” He reciprocates it.

“I love you too.”

And with that, you walk out of the room, out of the hotel, and wait for a cab to take you to the airport.

“Y/N!!”, you turn around to see Z. Maybe if you tell the story, people would say that it is Timothée that should be here, running after you. But you are glad he is not. You need to do this for you, and for him, you couldn’t go on like this. And if it was him, you are not sure that your mind will stay put. “Why are you leaving? Are you okay?”

“I think it’s obvious I’m not.”

“What happened?”

“I just can’t do this anymore, Z. I thought that I could handle it but I realised that I can’t. I’m hurting too much.” You start to cry again, and she takes you in her arms. “I just love him so much, but this is not possible.”

“Oh sweetheart. You know I’m with you in this. But are you sure this is the right choice to make?” she looks into your eyes. She can see that you are sure of your decision, but she doesn’t want this to happen. She doesn’t want to see her two best friends drift apart. Of course, she understands you. She probably would have done the same. Maybe she wouldn’t have lasted as long as you. When you are going to answer back, you hear a car horn. You both turn to see a cab. Your cab.

“I have to do this, Z. I can’t watch the love of my life with a girl that’s not me anymore.” You say then take your suitcase and walk to the cab.

“Don’t be a stranger” she calls out.

“I promise” you scream back with a smile. A smile full of tears but still a smile.

When Zendaya goes up to your room, she sees Tom waiting at the door. He was supposed to talk to Timothée while she was downstairs with you.

“Nothing?”

“No, he doesn’t want to open the door. You?”

“She left. She took a taxi to the airport and she’s not coming back.” Zendaya decides to knock on the door. “Timothée? Please let us in. You need to talk about it.”

“I need to be alone so get the fuck away!” Timothée screams trough the door. The couple look at each other before deciding to leave him alone.

Timothée isn’t really happy that he screamed at them like this. But he really needs to be alone to process everything. And yes, he took the overpriced ice cream that was in the minibar.

You left. You really left. He just lost the most important thing in his life. He didn’t go after you because he knew you didn’t want him to. He understands your reasoning. He isn’t mad at you for not trying any longer. How could he even think about being mad at you? You are right. This situation can’t go on any longer. He knows that you were hurting too much by this. He thinks that the only thing he wishes is that you saw the way he was hurting, too. He knows it’s not the same, but being forced to do something you don’t want to is horrible. He didn’t want to do this. At first, he only did it to protect you and himself from all the hate. Now he knows that it took proportions that were too big because he knows that you didn’t give up just because it was a little too difficult.

Every time he was with his fake girlfriend, he felt bad. He felt trapped. He felt like a puppet on a string being manipulated by the PR teams and his manager and even by the public. He didn’t have a choice about what he had to do or say or even think. Nobody wants to be held against their will. He feels so trapped in all this bullshit that he doesn’t know how to get away from it.

Days begin to pass, Timothée is back in LA, and the Wonka premiere is tomorrow night. The only thing he knows for now is that he needs to get you back. He thinks you both needed a little time to calm down to ease your minds. But now it’s over, and he will make sure you are both together again. He can’t lose you because he needs you in his life. You bring him so much joy and peace. You bring him comfort every day. He can’t lose all of it. He won’t.

He knows that in order for the bullshit to stop, he needs to go against his manager and his PR team. He needs to tell the world the truth. But if he does so, he will probably lose everything. Not everything because you are his everything to him. But he can say goodbye to his career.

Just when he was about to ask himself if it was worth it, he shut himself up. Of course, it is worth it, your freaking dumbass. He would lose everything if it meant he could be with you forever. Okay, he needs to fix everything NOW.

With this new mindset Timothée jumps out of bed. He is so excited to get you back that his foot gets caught in his sheets, and he falls. He stood up immediately. He couldn’t care less about the pain. He needs to move and fast. The Wonka world premiere is tomorrow, and with the fact that he needs to fly to your home first, then he needs to think of the time it takes to fly to London. Not to mention that it’s already dark outside. He doesn’t stress. He will miss the premiere if he has to.

He takes his phone, unlocking it for the first time since he came back from Brazil. He didn’t want to tall to anyone. No, he didn’t post the pictures with Kylie. Yes, his manager wasn’t happy. He will be even angrier tomorrow anyway. He only checked his phone to see if you sent him anything. You sent nothing, and that’s okay.

He is out of the house in one hour. The time he took to clean himself up, bought his ticket and made his suitcase. While he is waiting for the boarding to begin, he calls Jack.

“Mr Timothée Chalamet. I hope you have a good excuse for what you did. What you didn’t do, actually.” Jack answers immediately, clearly angry at the actor.

“I have a really good one, actually.” Timothée answers with a smile a little too big.

“Well my ears are wide open.” Jack says, annoyed.

“I’m just not doing your fake relationship anymore. It’s over Jack. Tomorrow night, I will be at the premier without Kylie, and that’s final.”

“Absolutely not. You are going with Kylie, and you will play loverboy until I decide it’s over. You don’t have a choice.”

“Actually, I have a choice, and I choose to stop.”

“That’s it I’m not working with you anymore, you fucking-“

“Yeah great bye.” Timothée hangs up the phone. He doesn’t need to hear Jack’s annoying voice anymore. Nobody does anyway.

He texts Kylie’s team to tell them that it’s not necessary to come tomorrow. His flight is ready to start the boarding, but he quickly taps something on his phone before putting it in his bag and walking to his flight. Full with confidence.

T- I’m getting her back.

Z- Took you long enough dumbass. Now go get your girl.

Now that he is standing in front of your door, he wonders if he shouldn’t have prepared a little speech. His confidence is long gone by now. He don’t know what to do. Does he knock on the door? Well it’s a stupid question because he will have to do it. Otherwise, you won’t answer. But what if you aren’t answering? Maybe you’ll see his face then decide not to open the door. Maybe you’ll not even hear that he is there. Well, you are a light sleeper, so maybe you will wake up. Are you even asleep right now? Maybe he should go and come back later. Yeah, that’s actually a pretty good id-

“Timothée?” he jumps at your voice. When he looks at the door, you are right in the doorway dressed in your pyjamas with a tired face and messy hair. At that moment he couldn’t find something more beautiful than you.

“Y-Y-Y/n. What’s up?” What’s up?! That’s what he has to say?! What is he doing?!

“Well I just woke up, and I saw you doing circles in front of my house.” He can’t say what you are feeling right now. You don’t seem angry, which is great, but you don’t seem happy either. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk with you. Can you let me in?” You ponder for a moment, but let him in anyway.

“Do you want a drink or something?” You ask when you come back from getting a hoodie. It is one of his. He wants to feel hope, but he also doesn’t want to jump to a conclusion.

“A coffee would be nice. I spent the whole night in the airport.”

“Yeah I’m sure it was pretty long. Don’t you have a premiere to intend tonight? Shouldn’t you be in London right now?”

“I couldn’t go without my girl.” This causes you to stop pouring him his coffee. “Y/n-“

“No. You know it’s impossible. We-we can’t.” Your hands start to tremble, so he takes them in his. At this, you look into his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that you missed so much.

“Y/n it's over. I ended it. I came here to take you with me to the premiere tonight. I want to spend this evening with you and make it unique. Because every moment I spend with you is unique.” He says in a sweet voice.

“How can I trust you? Is it really over?” Your eyes are glowing with your tears that are threatening to fall.

“Do you still love me?” He couldn’t help but hold his breath. He knows you said that you will always live him, and you left not too long ago even if it felt like eternity.

“Of course I do. How could I stop?” You smile, and he smiles back.

“I love you too. And that’s why you should trust me when I say to you that there isn’t a fake relationship in the way. And if you don’t trust me with this-“ He lets go of one of your hands to take his phone. He unlocks it, and you cloud see a picture where the two of you make silly faces. He goes into his call app. “-this is how my phone looks right now. And it won’t stop.”

You can see that he got a tone of phone calls. Some are from his manager, others are from his PR team and even some from Kylie’s. And when you see the messages that he got as well. All of them were in bold and with a lot of punctuation.

“I think that Jack isn’t really happy.” You say with a chuckle.

“You really think? Maybe that is his way of telling me thank you for all the great years.” He chuckles too, and this time you laugh. He can’t stop his smile from growing. “So what do you say? Do you want to come with me tonight?”

“Wait. Do you want me to accept a demand so unofficial like this?” You tease. He rolls his eyes before looking inside one of your cupboards and takes something out. He goes down on one knee.

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N, the queen in my world, would you do me the greatest honor to come with me tonight as my most beautiful date to the Wonka premiere in London?” He opens his hands and offers you one of your favourite chocolate.

“Well, you know I’m a very busy woman, but I think that I can clear my schedule for you.” You both laugh.

He stands back up and takes you into a bone crushing hug. You are both laughing before the tears take over. They are happy tears.

“I’m missed you so much. You don’t know how much I’m happy that I got you back.” He mumbles into your hair.

“I missed you too. So much. I’m so glad you came. Life is so hard without you.” You sniffles. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He slightly pulls away to look at your face then at your lips. And before you know it you are kissing soflty. A kiss full of love. But you pull away suddenly with a gasp. “What? What is it?”

“I don’t an outfit for tonight.” You begin to panic. “And how are we going to be here on time. London is too far you are going to be late for your own movie.”

“If we go in the next hour, we can be on time and all glamed up. I took care of that for you. You are going to make people so jealous, I promise.” He calms you down, and when he finishes his sentence, you run into your house, packing everything.

Timothée watches you doing so. He tries to help you, but you shut him up, so he just sits on the couch until you are ready to go. He can’t stop smiling. He can’t believe he got you back, and this time, he will make sure you don’t even think about leaving him.

Hours later, you are both all dressed up riding in the backseat of a black car that is taking you to the place of the premiere. The outfit Timothée wears is incredible. You are so in love with the necklace. Yours is pretty good, too. It is gorgeous actually and Wonka themed. It is perfect.

“Can you stop with your leg mon cœur? You are making the whole car shake.” Timothée says while putting his hand on your bouncing knee.

“Sorry.” You chuckle. “I’m so nervous. What if people’s don’t like me or throw things at me? And what about the questions?”

“Don’t worry about anything. If they don’t like you it’s their lost. I don’t care because I have you, and I want you here with me on my arm. And can tell you that no one will throw something at you. And if you don’t believe me, I promise I will stand in the way to protect you.”

“You’ll do that for me?” You both laugh before he looks into your eyes.

“I’ll do anything for you.” And you know that he means it.

When the car comes to a stop, your stress comes back up again. Timothée takes your hand and squeezes it, telling you that he was there for you. You nod to him, and he walks out of the car. You can hear the fans screaming like crazy. He goes on your side and opens your door for you before taking your hand in his. When you walk out, you are met with a lot of flashes and a lot of screams as well. People don’t know you, but seeing someone new at Timothée’s arm made them wild. And so the evening begins, you watch the love of your love doing what he loves. He signs pictures, posters, and some crazy things you don’t even understand why, but it makes you laugh. People are asking about you, and each time Timothée answers that you are his real girlfriend. He even goes all to the way, saying that the thing with Kylie was all fake. You were afraid of what people would think, but all the responses you got are pretty great. When you both start to stand on the carpet in front of all the photographs, you are blinded by the lights and slightly put your head on his shoulder. He chuckles slightly before looking at you, is eyes full of love.

“I love you.” He says.

“Really really really?” You ask with a big smile that is contagious.

“Really really really.”

And you knew from that moment that everything would be okay. You both have each other, and that’s all that matters.

---------------

The end of the series. I'm sorry it was so long, but I really wanted it to be in three parts so that the titles would match.

Hope you enjoyed it.

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Prologue

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“Bradley Bradshaw.” You zone back into the conversation as Maverick offers his suggestion. You sneak a glance at the clock on the wall. Your bones are aching from sitting pin-straight for the last four hours. It’s been thirty minutes since you’ve been actively present in the conversation with the three grown men sitting at the conference table with you. At the head of the table is Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, the owner of the newly formed San Diego Dogfighters. At age 64, he’s aged gracefully since his glory days playing for the Boston Bruins and later, more famously, for the Anaheim Ducks, but not quite as gracefully as the man seated across from him. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell somehow still has the aura of pure charisma that he oozed through his lengthy, thirty-one-year hockey career. After an infamous stint with the Philadelphia Flyers in the eighties, he went on to play for the Anaheim Ducks for a whopping twenty-five years alongside both Iceman and the man sitting next to him. Beau “Cyclone” Simpson’s hockey career both on paper and in practice shows off his intense desire to be the next Iceman, but he seems to have fallen short. He followed Kazansky’s footsteps from Boston to Anaheim, taking a brief detour in Dallas on the way. And yet here he sits, the general manager for the Dogfighters.

The three of you are going through potential players who could be recruited, drafted, or traded for to create the roster for the new team. As the team’s PR representative, you don’t have much of a reason to be here but you’ve made yourself useful. One of your specialties is keeping meticulous records of the pasts and presents of your players and that means you run a killer background check. You’re here to evaluate the potential players based on their personal lives. Nobody wants to hire a PR nightmare, especially when you’re a new franchise.

This extracurricular project isn’t without its perks, however, just an hour ago you pitched the defensive duo of rookie Mickey Garcia and seasoned veteran Reuben Fitch currently signed with the New Jersey Devils. Mickey and you have been friends since you met in college at the University of Wisconsin. Ever since Mickey got drafted to the Devils, you’ve been doing your best at maintaining your friendship long-distance, so when you got a job with the Dogfighters, Mickey was your first call, and after several lengthy conversations, he and Reuben agreed to you offering them as a potential trade prospect. You’d presented your meticulously rehearsed pitch to the three men at this table and they’d agreed that the duo would make a good addition to the Dogfighters.

After your pitch, you’d let yourself relax mentally. It wouldn’t do you any good to relax physically in front of your bosses. You’ve already clocked the looks Cyclone’s been giving you since you showed up on your first day in one of your signature pastel suits. Today you’re wearing one of your personal favorites, a baby pink number. You needed the extra burst of confidence that it always gives you. You know what it takes to be a woman in this business but that doesn’t mean you have to become a man. You flaunt your femininity as much as you pride yourself in your poised and polished appearance. Your suits are colorful enough to draw attention to yourself, but not indecent enough to make that attention bad. You stand out and you’re proud to do so. Men may command the room with their deep voices and raging testosterone tantrums, but you can command one just as well without even speaking a word. Curious attention is still attention and that’s what matters most.

“Bradley Bradshaw? From Philadelphia?” Cyclone sounds dubious as he muses over Maverick’s pick. Then again, he tends to sound dubious whenever it comes to Maverick generally. “He’s getting a little old, isn’t he?” His eyes flick to you, prompting you silently. Your perfectly manicured fingers fly across the keyboard as you speak up.

“Bradley Bradshaw, left winger for the Philadelphia Flyers. He was scouted by them straight out of college, and has been playing for them and their AHL affiliate for a total of sixteen years.”

“He’s never played for any other teams?” Cyclone says, raising an eyebrow. He’s right to be surprised, it’s unusual for any one player to stay with a franchise for so long, let alone their first one. Sure, both Ice and Maverick played for the Ducks for over a decade but they signed to other teams first. They established themselves before they established a home.

“His father, Nick Bradshaw played the same position for the Flyers from 1984 to 1986.” You rattle off as your eyes scan the various articles you have pulled up. “At the same time as Maverick,” your eyes flick up from your screen to where Maverick is shifting uncomfortably.

“You played with his old man?” It’s a statement phrased like a question. Cyclone’s piercing green eyes join yours on Maverick.

“I did. Bradley’s my godson, actually.” You can’t stop your eyebrows from raising at that. That particular tidbit wasn’t in any of the articles you’ve been skimming. You want to scoff at how easily Maverick offers up the information. He’s making his intentions clear from the get-go. This is personal for him. You’d kept your cards as close to your chest as you could when you’d pitched Mickey and Reuben. To make it personal was to tank the pitch in your eyes. You were here to be objective and offer objective suggestions for the team. You wait for Cyclone or Ice to chastise Maverick and when neither of them moves to do so, you feel your brow twitch with irritation. The privilege of being a man. Men are rational, and even an emotional decision is still more reasonable than the most rational statement a woman can make.

“Zam, what else do you have on Bradshaw?” Zam, your nickname, is short for Zamboni. You were given it during your first experience with managing public relations for your college’s hockey team. Your job, much like that of a Zamboni, is to smooth things over, both on and off the ice.

“He’s squeaky clean, sir.” Your eyes are back on the busy screen of your laptop, fingers flying across the keys. “He’s known as an enforcer on the ice, but doesn’t seem to be prone to any kind of violence or erratic behavior off the ice. He’s a team player, and his teammates have nothing but good things to say about him.” You rattle off his stats next, projecting them onto the screen at the head of the table. Other than his age being on the older side, as Cyclone had noted, he isn’t the worst pick in the world by a long shot. You know the importance of having senior members on a team, they form pillars for the rookies to build around and Bradley is the model pillar player. He’s well-rounded and the perfect balance between being well-known, and not an outright celebrity. Bradley Bradshaw is an ideal choice for the Dogfighters.

“Alright Maverick, we’ll give the Flyers a call about Bradshaw first thing tomorrow.” And with that, Bradley Bradshaw is halfway to the San Diego.

[formulalfc]

Here for you, forever.

Mick Schumacher x reader

tw-swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), swearing, lmk if there's anymore

You had been working for Mick as his PR manager ever since he came into Formula one and you had loved every minute of it.  He was such an easy person to talk to, always so kind and considerate in everything he did and you considered him one of your really close friends.

It was the last race of the 2022 season and you knew Mick was going to be upset when he came back to the garage, especially after that radio after he started doing doughnuts at the end.

You felt so bad for Mick, you couldn’t understand why the Haas team were being so harsh towards him, nobody as sweet as Mick deserved to be treated like that.

So when Mick got back to the garage you silently followed him to his drivers room, he pushed open the door, holding it so you could get in, his silent acceptance of your presence that warmed your heart.

He sat on the small sofa, his head in his hands and you quickly perched yourself next to him and ran your palm up and down his back, scratching at the base of his neck when you reached his neck.

His body leaned towards yours and soon enough he was sobbing into the crook of your neck, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist as you held each other close. 

The sound of his sobs made your heart clench, your own tears appearing at his utter heartbreak.

After a while, his tears subsided but you both remained snuggled together. You wiped some tears from his face as he moved from your neck.

You whispered to him as you got rid of the salty tears that lingered, “I know it hurts right now micky, but trust me this is going to lead to better things. You and I both know that you are an amazing driver, but you’re an even better person Mick and that is going to take you far. I am so proud of you, everyone that loves you is so proud of you and I guarantee your dad is to.”

His eyes held unshed tears but that didn’t stop him from bringing your face into him as he brought your lips together, kissing you like you were his everything.

You pushed him back before lifting a leg over him to rest on his lap, your hands coming up to stroke his cheeks as you made eye contact with him.

One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other grasped the back of your neck, pulling you back into him.

Your mouths met in a soft, slow kiss, the fact that you were both smiling into it making it harder to flow smoothly, but neither of you cared, you were just happy to be near each other.

Things quickly got heated between you two as you grinded down into him, his hands grabbing the flesh of your ass to push you over his dick that was becoming harder by the second.

Whimpers escaped both of you, the fact that you were making him feel good only making you work harder.

Your hands grasped at Mick’s top, pulling it up and over his head, mouths disconnecting for a millisecond before coming together again to continue their exploration of each other.

You unbuttoned the front of your work top, revealing the lacy red bra you had underneath, and throwing the shirt on the floor when you were done.

Mick broke away from you to glance down at your chest, a whine leaving his throat at the sight of you, he brought his face to your chest, mouthing at the top of your boobs that wasn’t covered by your bra, then unclipping it and throwing it across the room.

You grinded yourself over his hard length again, needing to relieve some of the pent-up frustration.

“So needy for me baby, don’t worry love I’ve got you” Mick muttered against you as he continued trailing hickeys across your chest, letting everyone know just who you belonged to.

He pushed you down onto your back, one hand cradling your head gently while the other moved to the zip of your jeans, successfully ridding you of them and your panties at the same time.

He looked at you led there, bare just for him, like he was looking at the Mona Lisa itself, like you were a piece of artwork that deserved to be hung up with the most prestigious of them all.

He lowered himself so he hovered over your pussy, his breath making you shiver in anticipation whining at him to do something, “Im gunna take care of you don’t worry baby” whispered against you before he licked a line up your folds, giving your clit a flick at the end.

He ate you out like he thought it was the last time he would ever see you, your back arching as he used his tongue to circle your hole before pushing two of his fingers in.

As he used his fingers to stretch you out, he was licking and sucking at your clit, whines and moans coming out of you at the pleasure he was bringing to you.

You could feel yourself getting close to finishing and Mick could feel it to, pulling away when he felt you clenching around his fingers.

You whined at him, trying to push his head back down towards your centre but he just chuckled at you before shutting you up by slapping your clit with his dick before sliding it into your hole.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you were stretched out by his huge cock. Yours hands digging into his shoulders as he hit your spot repeatedly, trailing kissing on your neck and marking his territory.

You got close to your peak relatively quickly as his dick hit your spot over and over again, you could tell he was close as he started thrusting into you faster and faster.

With his hand that wasn’t holding you up he circled your clit, your hips parting from the bed as your mouth opened in a silent scream as you came. He finished inside you moments later and he thrusted into you a few more times to push his cum into you.

When he pulled out a few moments later you winced at the feel of it, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before he got up, pulling his boxers on and then walking across the room to grab a cloth, wiping you down gently when he got back to you.

He grabbed one of his t-shirts from the side and pulled it over your head before pulling your legs over his lap and you snuggled into his side.

One of his hands gently patted your hair while the other drew shapes on your leg, you rested your chin on his shoulder, admiring him as he looked down at you.

And while you were worried for Mick and what the next chapter in his life would hold, you knew that no matter what you would always be there for him and you would always love him.

[rorywritessmut]

Sparks in the Workplace

Ikeda Jun wants nothing more than to graduate college and leave her job as Dynamight’s PR Rep. After one fateful interview, she’s left pretending to be his lover.

Based on my Kinktober Prompt “Hate Fucking”

I didn’t want this job. I wanted to go to school and work in a simple office. I live in a world dominated by heroes and villains. Which is why I needed to jump through some hoops to get the dream job I wanted. Until then, I would have to suffer being the official PR Representative for the most explosive hero in the industry, Dynamight.

My interview was simple and I was offered the job of the spot based on my quirk, Gentle Touch. My quirk is the ability to calm anyone’s psycho-sympathetic nervous system with a simple touch. Of course, I had my limitations such as it worked only if I was touching them the whole time and it only worked for 30 minutes per use on each person. They knew that my quirk would be a good look working the infamous Explosion Murder God, Bakugou Katsuki.

Simple to say, I hated him from the moment I started working with him. I quickly found out that my quirk works especially well on him and it pissed him off. So, he tried his best to make my life a living hell.

“Hey, ponytail!” Bakugou yells at me from his office. I look up from my computer to see him crook a finger in my direction, summoning me to his office. Usually he sends out his assistant to fetch me.

“Yes, sir!” I quickly stand and bow.

I found that calling him sir and other terms used for old men made him mad. While he is technically my senior, based on him being 5 years older, he didn’t take lightly to being called old. Oh man, the time I called him uncle lingered around in my head.

“Don’t smirk, Ponytail, you’re creepy.” He sneers at me.

“Okay, Senpai.” I teased, watching the fire light in his eyes. I could immediately smell the threat of nitroglycerin seeping from his palms. He knew I would use my quirk on him and that was enough to keep the explosions at bay. It also royally pissed him off.

“Quit it.” He growled out and slammed the door behind me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?”

“Cut the shit, Ikeda.”

“So you do know my name.” I teased and leaned towards him from across the desk covered in papers.

“I should fire you” Bakugou crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you. I’m used to these threats, his team wouldn’t allow it.

“Try it” I bite back.

“We have another interview tomorrow. Some hero podcast is interviewing that dammed Deku and I.” Of course they wanted Midoriya and Bakugou in the same room, they were known enemies turned best friends who fought all the time.

“What is the podcast name so I can do research?”

“The Talented Others.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! That has to be one of the most disrespectful gossip channels they could find.” The Talented Others honestly, hated heroes. They hated the idea that with 98% of the population having quirks nobody should be special but heroes where. They believed that heroes were nothing more than overpaid TV Show actors.

“Believe me when I say I almost blew up the place.” Bakugou picked at his nails like he was impressed with his actions, I rolled my eyes at his behavior.

“Okay, so we need a game plan as to what we’re going to say and do. Do you have a print out of the questions?” I tried to remain professional with Bakugou at all times, but pissing him off was incredibly fun.

“Nope but you can handle all those hard questions.” His caramine eyes meet mine and I feel stuck in my seat for a second, gaping like a fish. This causes the brat to smirk at my actions. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut it,” I growl, “I can’t handle everything for you. You have to be a big boy at some point.” It’s my turn to smirk at him.

“Get back to work” He barks, I salute to him with two fingers and walk out the door.

I’m counting the minutes until 5 when I can get out of here. I’m constantly checking my phone because I have a date with Takeuchi Kazuo from accounting. With us being in separate departments there was no problem with us dating and there was no need to have someone sign an NDA as we both signed one when we started here.

Takeuchi is a sweet guy with bright eyes and dark hair that sits against his pale skin. He was my first ally here in the office since Bakugou had a bad habit of turning everyone against me. He wanted me to quit. Takeuchi encouraged me to stay here and keep working since it would be good for my future. When I told him I was taking night classes at the university to become a therapist he was ecstatic to meet someone who held their future in such high regards.

I was so excited to go on a date with him.

Takeuchi-san

We still on for tonight?

Ikeda Jun

Yup! I can’t wait for this date.

Takeuchi-san

(:

“What’re you smiling at, twerp?” A voice whispers next to my ear. I squeak and drop my phone, it goes clattering on my desk. I curse and turn to find Bakugou leaning over me in his hero uniform.

He was back early from patrol.

“Nothing,” I hissed.

“You’re giggling like a schoolgirl.” He deadpans.

“I have a date with a guy in the firm.” You rolled your shoulder back and met his narrowed gaze.

“Hmph.” Is all Bakugou says as he walks away from you and into the elevator. You shrug off the weird encounter and continue with your work.

5 comes and goes and you leave to get ready for the date. The walk to your apartment isn’t a long one so you’re home and ready within an hour. You decide to put on a little more makeup and dress in a warm brown sweater, a black velvet skirt, and leggings with black flats. You do your hair in a cuter style.

Then you’re off!

You get the ramen shop after changing trains a couple of times and walking a significant distance. You’re early by 5 minutes to your agreed time, 7:30. So, you go ahead and find a seat with a good view of the door so you can spot Takeuchi when he comes inside.

He never does. Around 8 I order food and send him a text. I finish by 9 and text him again. Yet, I never hear another word for him. I’m fighting back tears because he was so nice, so thoughtful. He had bought me flowers and coffee just a few days before. He had texted me earlier to make sure we were still on. By 9:30 I was a sobbing mess in the bathroom. That’s when I felt my phone buzz.

Takeuchi-san

Sorry. Rain check

I don’t respond because if I do, I will cuss at him. I want him to still see me as a respectful girl, so I leave him on read. He couldn’t be bothered with responding to me so I wouldn’t respond to him.

I pay for my food and leave the restaurant. I take the trains back home and walk straight pass my apartment. If I’m going to get blown off, I might as well get laid at the bar! There is one just a block from the hero agency. So, I go there. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall but it’s nice enough that I trust the people there.

The bar is cozy, dark, and has an easy going atmosphere. I decide to go inside and fuck the first guy who hits on me. I’m desperate at this point considering Takeuchi stole my heart and broke it, the mother fucker. Honestly, it doesn’ take long for a man to come and offer a drink.

“Hey, want a drink?” He’s cute, like an American movie star.

“From you? Sure.” I purr.

I let him order a girly fruity drink for me and we talk for a while. He’s a great conversationalist and everything is going exactly to my plan. I know if I act just dumb enough he’ll invite me to his place and I can end this dry spell. However, at one point he acts terrified and hurriedly excuses himself to the bathroom and never comes back.

Fuck.

I down my drink and head to the tiny dancefloor and dance my little broken heart out. I throw my hands up in the air and gyrate my hips to the beat of the music. I feel a hand snake around my waist and pull me against their hips. Whoever is dancing with me has the moves because they’re now guiding my movements against them. I tried to turn to see the person who has grabbed me but they quickly turn my head away from them.

“Keep dancing, pretty girl.” An oddly familiar gruff voice commands me. The use of “pretty girl” has warmth pooling between my thighs.

“I want to see who scared off my date”

“Someone better.” There is a cocky sound to his voice. Something eerily familiar.

I decide I’m too drunk to care about who is behind me and enjoy their roaming hands and flowing drinks. Who ever this is really wants me to forget tonight because they’re constantly letting me down these drinks.

At some point I wake up in my bed in my pajamas, with no ache between my legs. My mystery man must be a gentleman because he sure didn’t fuck me. I roll over to look at a beautifully written note.

You deserve better than those loser men, I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.

Creepy, but cute. I look at the clock and decide it’s time to go face my boss with the worst hangover of my life and protect him from those loser podcast whores.

[heavenlycloud]

vintage chanel: jennie x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive, swearing

a/n: i was gonna post this the night of the event but school and time got away from me so here it is a few days late. there might be some typos.... sorry

the met gala wasn’t a new occurrence to you after your first invitation when you were freshly eighteen. back then, your attendance made headlines as you had become the youngest guest to attend that year. even more headlines followed when you were handpicked by karl lagerfeld as a muse for the house of chanel. over the years you became a known figure within the fashion industry while dominating the western music industry. the level of success you’d reached in a few short years was recognized by numerous awards, accolades, and several gold and platinum album titles to your name. even with the musical success, you never forgot that fashion was really your claim to fame many years ago. hence why you graciously accepted a met invitation every single year. 

to many, the met gala is a star studded night where you get gussied up in clothes from top designers in high fashion, meet other A-list celebrities, and do whatever the hell you do inside because nobody seems to know. in reality, it was waking up at six in the morning then getting ready all day, walking a red carpet, answering the same 5 questions from reporters who hopefully remembered your name, then sat through what felt like the world’s longest and most awkward dinner. the only highlight of the event was finding out that one of your friends was only two tables away from you, rather than the usual five or six. overall, the real fun started at the afterparties which you always ended up being roped into attending then drunkenly leaving hand in hand with some supermodel you met that night. 

you sat in a suite on the 15th floor of the iconic Mark Hotel as your stylists, makeup artists, and management and PR team bustled around to make sure you were ready for tonight. the theme was Karl Lagerfeld, the designer that picked you as his muse years ago. your outfit was a handpicked piece designed by the esteemed german courtier. originally worn by linda evanglista in the Chanel Ready to Wear Fall/Winter 1991-1992 in Paris Fashion week. the entire morning was doing small interviews for Vogue and other fashion media outlets that get most of their press from this event. there was a smile on your face as you told the camera before you, “i’m super excited for this evening because i don’t think many people know i’m attending the event. i’ve been trying my best to keep it on the down low, but i think people are going to figure it out before i get to the carpet.” there was a small laugh followed by your words that trailed off on the end, specifically because you knew of a certain someone that was hoping just this once you wouldn’t show. 

“unnie, did you see the headlines?” the thai idol asked with urgency in her tone that made her member’s heart race. the older woman hesitated to answer, but she went silent as she read the headline that appeared over the banner at the top of her screen:

UPDATE: Y/N TO MAKE APPEARANCE AT THE 2023 MET GALA

jennie stared at her phone and lisa cautiously prompted, “are you okay?” jennie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying, “why wouldn’t i be? it’s whatever. she gets invited every year, i don’t know why this would be any different.” she paused for a moment then abruptly commented, “i have to go. i’ll talk to you later.” the younger woman gave a weak smile, “okay bye, i’ll talk to you later.” in a sudden bout of frustration jennie tossed her phone across the room onto the bed then brought her hands to her forehead as she mumbled, “fuck…” there were light taps on her hands as her makeup artist silently chided her not to mess up her perfectly made up face. for the next hour she remained silent until she had to put on a smile for the cameras and fans that swarmed the porte-co·chère of the hotel down below. 

the car ride to the carpet was dead silent as jennie tried to soothe her nerves before enduring the next eight to ten hours on her own. through the deeply tinted glass jennie could see her security team waiting for her to step out of the car. one of the staff members assigned to her for the evening warmly assured her, “take as long as you need, miss kim.” she gave a curt nod and a hushed thank you before holding the door handle for a moment. one of the security guards pulled open the door and held a hand out to assist her out of the large black SUV. 

cameras flashed and fans shrieked and screamed as they desperately tried to earn jennie’s attention from their barricaded sections that flanked the entrance of the carpet. the idol waved and smiled for the cameras as she’d been taught to so many years ago, her smile turning genuine when she laid eyes on a familiar petite brunette. the young influencer passed jennie a mic and asked enthusiastically, “how are you?” with her eyes glued forward for a moment too long, jennie replied, “i’m everywhere. this is my first Met…” emma asked in slight surprise, “first Met?” the korean singer nodded and continued answering the quick questions on her current feelings. she laughed as the younger girl somewhat awkwardly yet genuinely shared the same thoughts of being nervous and anxious before such a large event. for just a moment jennie glanced to her right thinking she saw someone she knew. her blood ran cold when she realized she did know the person- you looking her way with the same narrowed gaze that dripped of venom and honey that had her spellbound from the first time. 

a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips after seeing the affect you still had on her after she supposedly stopped caring about you. for the fun of it, you shot her a wink before turning around and kissing the cheek of the interviewer that was speaking with you. jennie flinched ever so lightly then laughed awkwardly in a futile attempt to play it off. she quickly thanked emma for the interview then rushed off to the usher that was to guide her along the carpet. the remainder of the carpet went by in the blink of an eye. largely in part to the fact that she disassociated for the entire thing, only regaining awareness of her surroundings as she was ushered inside. 

jennie followed the usher to her table where her placecard was sitting daintily with her name handwritten in elegant calligraphy. she sat down gracefully beside another supermodel she’d yet to learn the name of then introduced herself politely. as more guests filed in, she couldn’t help but scan the room in search of you. the open seat beside her with a placecard that read a simple RESERVED made her stomach twist into knots. underneath the white tablecloth she bounced her leg anxiously, desperately hoping nobody around her noticed the soft clicking sound around the table. another usher made their way to her table and she took a breath of relief when she saw dua lipa approaching with a warm smile. however, the feeling was short lived when the albanian singer bent down and kissed her cheek with a slight pout. she explained quietly, “hi love, i wanted to come over and tell you myself that they’ve moved my seat this evening. but i’ll catch up with you later, alright?” jennie tried to answer as quickly and politely as possible to get in her question of who was taking dua’s place. 

the question was answered before it could even leave jennie’s lips when she heard you speak from over her shoulder, “thank you so much for understanding, babes. have a great evening and we’ll chat later!” you sat down beside jennie and greeted the other guests at your table which you were seemingly familiar with to some extent. the idol shifted beside you and you gave her what appeared to others as the warmest and welcoming smile, “jennie it’s been a while hasn’t it?” the woman saw through you as if you were made of glass, yet she refused to cause a scene at the Met Gala of all events. so, she plastered on a smile and hugged you back, “it has, how have you been?” she humored you in conversation and did her best to wiggle her way out of exclusively talking to you by roping the other table guests into the conversation. however, no matter how much she tried, you always managed to turn the topic exclusive to the two of you. jennie wondered how nobody else around her could see the lack of genuinity in your eyes, that you were intentionally toying with her like some game. but then again, why would anyone suspect you, a known sweetheart, of such a thing. 

you smiled to yourself as you did small things to get under jennie’s skin and give her the attention you craved. wether it be a hand trailing along her thigh or lightly hitting her foot with your own beneath the tablecloth. seeing her clenched teeth and smiles that faltered for just a split second were all the reward you needed to spur you on further. the moment that you all were dismissed to look around the museum exhibit, jennie was on her feet and eager to leave your side. you made no effort to follow her immediately, instead you found a handful of familiar faces and did your rounds to those you both did and didn’t care for…you did have a reputation to uphold anyway. an hour passed and you finally had eyes on jennie once more, she stood alone in front of a mannequin with yet another vintage Chanel piece. you watched her from afar, taking in the way she stared at the clothing with a genuine admiration and curiosity. the sight made your heart flutter as she reminded you of the first time you both met years ago. 

the feeling of warmth that bloomed in your heart ran cold when you saw some random man approach her. from his outfit alone you knew that he was someone’s plus one or an influencer that purchased his own ticket for the event. the way he stared at jennie with almost a sense of hunger and desperation made your skin crawl. you slowly made your way across the floor, wondering if she would actually need someone to intervene. her smiles were polite but you could see the way her eyes flitted from his with nearly every word she spoke as if she was searching for an escape. the stiff mannerisms of hers came to a halt when the guy attempted to place a hand around her waist, making her flinch out of surprise. without hesitation you rushed to her side in less than three strides. 

you slipped your arm behind her waist with ease, the familiar feeling bringing a genuine smile to your face. turning towards her you kissed her cheek, “hey beautiful i thought i lost you back there.” she looked up at you, a flash of fear still lingering in her gaze prompting you to pull her closer to your body. the guy in front of her tried to continue his conversation but you cut him off, “she’s with me. i expect that you’ll be returning to your table now, yes?” if looks could kill the young man would have been gone yesterday. he grew nervous with you, of all guests, standing over him, so much so that he couldn’t even utter an actual apology before literally running off. 

jennie continued to stand in your hold with her hand toying at the heavy gold belts wrapped around your waist. you remained silent as you lightly took her shaking hand into your free one, “jen?” she continued to stare at the same spot on the ground as you prompted once more, “jennie?” the idol snapped out of her trance and pulled away from you, “thank you for that…” she watched as your features softened in a way that made her heart beg that she cave into you and give you the type of attention she used to. your tone changed with the next words you spoke, this time they were genuine, the same way you used to speak to her, “yeah…of course, Nini.” her heart raced at the last word, so familiar and nearly made her crack but she internally put her fist down. she wasn’t about to start this, not now and especially not here. she backed away from you as if you were a burning flame that was moments from losing control. the singer straightened her posture then said coldly, “don’t call me that.” she turned on her heel then hurried off to go talk to another A-list supermodel that probably didn’t remember what group she was actually from. 

throughout the entire rest of the night jennie avoided you like the plague, no eye contact, no words exchanged, it was like you were invisible to her. the main event ended and the after parties were getting ready to begin. one of your managers found you and rushed you to meet your stylists where you were changed for the second look of the night. keeping with the theme, you wore a long sleeved white tweed top, black pants, and a large gold chanel belt. the look was worn by beverly peele in the chanel spring 1993 show. chunky gold bracelets adorned your wrist while the belt quite honestly felt like wearing a weighted hula hoop. nevertheless, you were guaranteed to be the talk of the night once again. 

TipToe by Jason Derulo blasted over the speakers in one of the many rooms within the multi-million dollar mansion owned by some uppity tycoon on the Upper East Side. the lights were off with the exception of burnt orange neon lights that barely lit a damn thing in the room. despite the windows being open, the entire house felt hot as hell with all the sweaty bodies of drunk and high supermodels, singers, and A-list actors. you watched who danced alongside you, trying to avoid meeting strangers with wandering hands and lustful gazes. as you skimmed the crowd around you, a tall blonde dragged a small black haired woman to dance with her. once again your interest peaked at seeing jennie in the perfect place for you to make another move. 

the bass of the music thrumed throughout your entire body as you danced your way over the now cluster of girls with jennie. you threw an arm around one of the women’s shoulders and shouted over the music, “Kenny!” the supermodel turned to face you and her face lit up as she pulled you into a hug, “Y/N!” jennie slowed her movements to the beat of the music as she watched you talking to the girl next to her. the nerves only lasted a minute because a second later she was pressing herself against Hailey Baldwin with her head resting on her shoulder and wrapping the blonde’s arm tighter around her torso. the unsuspecting model simply laughed and kissed jennie’s temple as she swayed to the beat jennie set. just as you began to look away, jennie opened one eye and smirked when she saw your dissatisfied expression  and pretended you were invisible all over again. 

you grew impatient and slowly slipped between Kendall and Hailey which they welcomed without question. jennie tried to keep Hailey against her but your arm slid between their bodies and Hailey switched positions with you to dance with Kendall. jennie began to make a move to leave but you pulled her back flush against your front. the gentle touch of your fingers ran down her arm making goosebumps form on her skin. you chuckled lowly and said into her ear, “come on now, dance with me.” the warmth of your body against hers was a feeling she thought she’d forgotten but now it was as if you’d never left. she turned to face you, gaining some control back before she attempted to make her leave, “i don’t want to dance with you.” her voice was saying one thing while her mind and body said another prompting you to ask, “are you sure because the way you’re holding my arm on your waist is telling me otherwise.” 

jennie glared at you through those cat-like, chocolate brown eyes and thick black lashes with a gaze that made your heart race. she watched as your eyes crawled over her body with such a hunger that she would have gagged if it was anyone else. you pulled her closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies and for just a moment she almost gave into your touch. once again she backed up and swallowed thickly, “i’m doing just fine with my friends here.” you stared at her unfazed then glanced over to Kendall and Hailey who were lost in their own offbeat two step to Alone by Kim Petras. god, jennie wished she could kiss wipe that stupidly perfect, coy smirk off of your face. a few people around you both noticed that you were no longer dancing and instead standing in a confrontational position before jennie. she looked at the hand she was still holding to her body and sighed as she turned back around, dancing against your front, “i’m just not trying to cause a scene.” you laughed lowly into her ear, “whatever you say, angel.” 

you held her slender waist to your body and the hand that rested by her leg into your own, lacing your fingers together with a smile. jennie slipped her hand out of yours and you tsked quietly, “and about your friends- you know goddamn well none of these girls give a fuck about you, they just care about the title you carry. they’re all up on you just to take a picture and use it to get an extra million likes and comments. you’re wasting your time staying around them because after tonight it’s gonna be like you two never met.” the idol hated to admit it but you were 100% right. when it came to western celebrities, they heard the name BLACKPINK in tandem with one of the members names, and they were immediately trying to befriend them for clout. it was evident in the way they called jisoo by the wrong name, never pronounced rosé with the proper accent, just plain forgot lisa’s name, and how at least 12 people tonight called jennie ‘jenna’ instead. despite that, she was completely used to it by now and expected ingenuity from the celebrities that she met overseas. 

the singer shot you a side glare and you frowned to mock her, “don’t give me that face, just admit the fact that you know i’m right.” jennie rolled her eyes and asked in annoyance,  “and what if you are? why should i care about any of that?” you answered simply, “because you and i both know you aren’t enjoying this right now.” jennie swallowed thickly as your breath ghosted the shell of her ear and she lied straight through her teeth, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n. i’m having a good time.” this time your tone was slightly harsher but in a way that made her stomach erupt into butterflies, “jennie cut the shit, i know more than anyone what you look like when you’re enjoying yourself.” heat rushed to her cheeks at the implication of your words, memories filling her head only making her blush deeper. 

you felt the way her body began melting into your touch and she slowly started giving into what she both desperately wanted and knew she shouldn’t do. she shook the thought from her head and turned back to face you, once again fighting internally with herself to walk away. the way your eyes transfixed on her was no help but then you uttered the words, “come on mama, let me show you a good time…for old time’s sake.” jennie clenched her jaw and you leaned your forehead against hers, without even realizing it her arms ended up over your shoulders. the feeling of your fingers trailing up her mini black dress made her stumble, making you wrap an arm around her waist once more. her voice was weak when she tried to reply with confidence, “i-i don’t think-” all you had to do was raise one eyebrow and give that same damned smile to get her to cave, “just for tonight.” immediately you smiled the million dollar smile the world fell in love with as you led jennie through the crowd to find a place in the 32 rooms of the oversized mansion. she held onto your hand until you rounded a corner and pushed it open before pressing it closed with her back against. she hated how easily she gave into your wishes but she couldn’t help it with the way you felt her up with ease, making her get lost in all that you were, making her feel like you did all those years ago. 

[arieswritez]

Prodigal Son

prodigal son - derek goffard x afab!reader

cw: MDNI!!!! implied & actual noncon, threats of violence & actual violence, knifeplay, unprotected sex, creampie, weird old men, abuse of power, slight sacrilege (if you squint idk i have religious trauma), derek

about: one of my derek hcs (and i have plenty ‘cause my brain is too fried to write actual fanfic) is that not only is he well known but he is actually very well liked. (~2.3k words)

a/n: this has been sitting in my private posts for the longest & it keeps getting buried under other posts so here it is before it disappears into the abyss <3 is there a second part? maybe. will it take me forever to post it? yes. xx barely read through so if there's some grammatical errors im srry ;( will be editing if needed

the public views the goffards as royal adjacent: his face plastered on nearly every magazine, listing him as the country’s most eligible bachelor. you read about the goffard brothers and their lives of luxury, private schools, boats, villas in italy, and rumoured engagements with duchesses. you remember gushing over them with your friends. . and while they seemed to like matt goffard better, your attention was on derek. getting your hands on every magazine with his face on it and following any blog dedicated to him.

however, despite how much his image sells, not much is known about derek other than the fact that he’s next in line to take over the goffard business. derek is known for many things but his personality is not one of them. 

media training may have prepared him to smile and smolder into a camera but those who really know him know that his personality is just. . off-putting. a smile that doesn’t meet the eyes, not talking or even making eye contact with anyone he considers to be “the help”.

his father has done a good job at using derek’s good looks to his advantage. he’s spent a pretty penny cleaning up his messes and his PR team has been working with derek ever since he started to become an absolute terror (around age 13).

and so, with a lot of training, derek learns how to subdue it: suppressing a sneer of disgust when someone attempts to engage him in conversation. he still finds it hard not to lash out when someone so much as brushes their shoulders against him, when he catches a whiff of the cheap cologne and/or perfume clinging to their clothing.

and when the dam eventually cracks: it's ridiculously easy to patch up. because behind that carefully curated image is a long string of accusations of harassment, hush money, NDA’s and lawsuits that’ll never see the light of day thanks to daddy dearest. derek's victims have either been intimidated into silence by the business mogul or simply disappeared off the face of the earth. 

derek's father has worked his ass off and he'd be damned if some nobodies ruin the mirage he's created.

from the outside looking in, the goffards - particularly the brothers - are just your average nepo babies. everyone fantasizes about being them. or winning the lottery and marrying into wealth.

it’s only when you meet derek that you realize the goffard empire is more of a jungle than it is a monarchy. 

it’s a busy night at the upscale restaurant you work in. and everyone tells you: "you’re lucky you’ve got this gig."

on most days, that’s hard to believe: rich snobs that treat you like you’re shit smeared beneath their shoe and don’t tip well. but that night, with the staff urgently trying to get around, you figure they may be right. . because you get derek’s table. 

lucky you &lt;3

derek is with his father, a couple business partners, and two rugged men with shifting eyes who you assume are their bodyguards. he looked like a dream in person. his usually tousled blond hair slicked back, dressed all in black. his dress shirt slightly unbuttoned: his trademark 'disheveled' look you're sure was actually carefully styled. and against his chest, you notice a plain gold chain that was undoubtedly worth more than your yearly salary.

if you thought he looked good in pictures, he looked godly in person.

you do your best to contain your excitement, trying to make a good impression when you introduce yourself. the pitch in your voice heightening - as it always does while on the clock - and you gave your best smile. his father and the other business men seem to be more. . welcoming. or at least in that awkward way old rich white men have of being patronizing and flirting with you at the same time. you couldn’t keep track of the amount of times they’ve called you ‘sweetheart’ , ‘babe’, or ‘doll’. 

derek, however, hardly looks at you. he just orders from the menu, giving you short and cutting answers when you inquire about anything, then tossing the menu in your general direction - you hadn’t finished talking - without as much as glancing at you. the menu nearly slides off the table and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment when you fumble to catch it.

and despite how you think he hardly notices you. . he does. from the corner of his eye, he watches your disheartened figure walk away, and the corner of his mouth perks up. 

he’s extremely demanding the entire night you serve him. everything you do is wrong in his eyes. the food was cold. too much salt. not enough salt.

i found your hair in the food, i’m not eating that.

you forgot the asparagus i ordered.

the steak isn't medium, it's cooked to shit.

can you do anything right? 

your brain feels like mush and the cooks are tearing you to shreds in the kitchen because they can’t get to derek themselves.

eventually, derek’s father must catch on to derek's sour attitude and asks for the check. you curse yourself. it's been a long, ego destroying night & now you’re 100% sure you’re not getting a tip.

you just bow your head and apologize for the umpteenth over your ‘subpar service’ and pick up the table’s plates. 

and as you hold back tears, you don’t notice how derek’s is missing his steak knife. 

after being glared at by half the kitchen staff - it’ll be a miracle if you still have your job come morning - you scurry into the bathroom to have a good cry.

unfortunately, derek’s been watching you like a hawk. you are quite predictable. or maybe he’s just done this to many women before you.

derek excuses himself from the table and follows you. you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. you weren’t special. there was nothing unique about you. and for his standards - considering he constantly had a supermodel on his dick - you were just. . plain as hell.

you just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. which was unfortunate for you, of course, seeing as how derek figured someone the likes of you couldn’t exactly afford days off. 

and it’s exactly that that caused you to be pinned face first against one of the stalls, the steak knife pressed against your throat, your work skirt flipped over your hips, your stockings and panties torn, and his cock inside you. 

when he first attacked you, it happened so fast you didn’t catch a glimpse of who it was. 

you were washing your face, not caring if you were removing your makeup in the process: what difference did it make, anyway?

you looked up into the mirror, expecting to see bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. . only to have your head bounced off of the glass.

your ears rang.

you stumbled.

and a hand wrapped around your arm and threw you up against one of the empty stalls.

someone flattened themselves up against you, a hardness pressing against your back.

you recognized his voice first, when he hissed into your ear, 

“scream and i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

then, by scent: his expensive cologne choking you as he caged you in and jackhammered into you.

despite his stone cold demeanor towards you the entire night, his mouth stayed latched onto your skin: biting down in an attempt to smother the needy whines and moans that crawled out of his throat. you barely breathed, choking on your cries, hoping the blade wouldn’t slip in his shaking grip. 

you were no one.

just another poor little toy derek wanted to break but for some reason, you’d managed to get him all pent up. seeing you fumble around while he berated you . . and now seeing you try to stifle your cries of pain had his balls drawing up. his other hand groped your breast, the knife leaving your throat long enough for him to grab your face and make you look at him over your shoulder. 

“beg me,” he hissed. “beg me to come inside you. c’mon. . don’t you want it to be over~?” 

you sniffled, letting out a surprised cry of pain at a particularly hard thrust.

"pl-please -" you cried out, unable to get the words out between your sobbing. "please-"

"p-p-please~" he mimicked your whines in a high pitched, exaggerated way. "please what? please what, huh? fuck you harder? cut you? kill you? you want me to put you out of your fucking misery in a dirty bathroom stall?"

everything hurt, your neck was twisted at an awkward angle, your head throbbed, and the friction between your legs was unbearable. he was right, you did want it to be over.

you wanted to go home and wash his cologne out of your ruined work uniform. you wanted to hold your head underwater until the scent evaporated from within your nostrils.

or go back to the time in which you were offered this job and refuse it.

or just not show up that day.

you'd wanted to call out that night, lie about being sick and binge watch trashy television. you wanted to reach an epiphany & snap out of it, trash all the magazines with Derek's fucking face plastered all over them, and kiss your daydreams of prince charming goodbye.

but most of all, you wanted him to get it over with and finish .

so you settled with appeasing him. because he's the one with the power. the money. the fame.

and the one with a knife to your throat.

you didn't care what it might take: you just wanted him to finish. but you didn't say that. you couldn't. so, instead, you managed to whisper,

"please - cum inside me."

the blade nicked you and you swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. the sick fuck was gonna gut you before he finished, you were sure of it.

but the searing pain, the warmth of blood cascading down the valley of your chest, the bright white light promised to you by kind eyed priests and mentioned in the prayers fallen from your mother's lips - never came. instead, you felt the harsh pinch of teeth clamping down onto your shoulder, muffling a strangled shout.

derek flattened you against the stall, rutting up against you. hunched over you, he unlocked his jaw and burrowed his face at the juncture where neck meets shoulder, panting condensation into your skin as he fucked his release into you.

against better judgement, your toes curled into the ridiculous, shiny flats your manager forced you to wear. a spike of. . pleasure. . zapped up your spine as derek's cock incessantly pressed against a spot inside you, throbbing and spurting so much cum it leaked out and dripped down your thighs.

you squeezed around him and there was a soft, whimpering moan.

you weren't sure which one of you'd let it out. but the sound seemed to sober derek up. he straightened suddenly, pulling away from you.

vertigo overtook you. he didn’t catch you when your knees gave and you collapsed. you heard the jingle of a belt, a zipper going up, then, you saw him step out and over you to push the stall open.

he didn't look back at you as he went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and wet his hands, slicking his hair back once again. you caught his reflection in the mirror: a soft flush against tan skin, spreading across his face, down his neck, and to his chest where his expensive, crisp, black dress shirt had been slightly unbuttoned.

his eyes met yours in the mirror.

and you wish you could say you saw something in them. disgust. contempt. lust. but there was nothing. it was as if he'd just seen a stranger in passing. he'd barely registered your existence, looked at you like one might look at the crack of a sidewalk they always pass by on their way to work.

not at all.

and then he was gone.

and a part of you wondered if you'd just imagined it. if it was all just some fucked up dream. you could've convinced yourself, too, if it weren't for the fact that you could still feel him inside you.

you were still crying, you realized, when teardrops landed on your cracked phone screen when your shaking hands managed to grasp it.

you checked the time through blurry vision. you were almost off.

you crawled to your knees and tried to push yourself up to no avail. your vision swam. and before you could register what was happening, everything faded to black.

you were out when the bathroom door opened.

one of the rugged men that were once seated at mr.goffard's table looked down at your crumpled figure on the floor. the man didn't say anything and simply closed the door. a few moments later, the bathroom door opened again. this time, the other man joined the first. without an ounce of hesitation, one of the men gathered your unconscious body and walked out.

no one noticed.

or no one cared to watch you get hauled away and into the shiny, black limousine of the goffards. you imagined averted eyes and anxious sips of wine of fellow restaurant goers as the footsteps of the country's most powerful men passed them by. clicking cutlery and knowing looks passed between couples. what would no doubt be the gossip on their way home back to their massive, lifeless homes.

the wife would say, "poor thing," as the husband unzipped her dress. the husband would hum. and that'd be the end of it.

nothing would be done.

and whether you're ever seen again or not doesn't matter because you'll soon be forgotten. and no one's risking their lifelihood for someone as insignificant as you.

after all, no one's ever dared to say no to mr. goffard's prodigal son.

[sxffrxn]

When love strikes OP81

An Oscar Piastri x reader, enemies to lovers story

Part One Part Two

Summary: Oscar Piastri and Y/N L/N have a long-lasting feud, nobody knows why. Do they themselves know why?

Warnings: swearing, Oscar and Y/N literally act like children, grammar mistakes, messy

Word Count: 1.4k

~~

Arriving back at home was like a blessing from the Gods. As soon as Y/N stepped foot in her apartment, her coat was thrown off as she leaped onto her bed, luggage forgotten. That night, she had the best sleep she had in a very long time, despite still being in her travelling clothes.

When she woke up and checked her phone she found her instagram was blowing up. Panic coursed itself through her body. Was she cancelled online? Has someone made up some bullshit to spread about her?

But, alas, it was her interview. It had gone viral. Some people were speculating about Oscar and Y/N’s relationship, and some had compiled an entire 30 minute video of the pair being downright unpleasant to each other. Although Y/N did in fact watch the whole video - in 3x speed, she wasn’t watching a 30 minute long video - she has to admit some of these were a stretch, I mean there was one scene where they simply walked past each other, opposite sides of the walkway may I add.

Both Lamborghini and Mclaren’s PR teams were going to have a field day with this one.

About an hour later, Y/N got a call from her assistant, Gemma,

“What have you done Y/N, the internet is in shambles!” she started.

“No, Hi how are you? Are you well rested? Why yes I am thank you for asking.” Y/N replied.

“Y/N I don’t think you understand the severity of this. We have had Mclaren on the phone all morning trying to sort this mess out.”

“Gem, I replied the way I was supposed to, I can’t think of another way I could have handled that without it turning into a brawl!” Y/N answered in a less polite tone than she should have used.

“Y/N” she started, “I know you handled it the best way you could. I’m sorry this is just so stressful. I don't know how to say this..”

“Say what? Surely it's not that bad. I mean they’re not kicking me off the team are they? I’ve only done one race an-“ she was cut off by Gemma again.

“They want you to act as though you are civil. Friends even. And I’m not talking, not sending glares at the other. I mean they want you to do all sorts of things with him.” Y/N’s heart dropped, she could not do this. Did this tiny altercation have to resort to this? No. But was Y/N a petty bitch? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Gem, I’m not pretending to date him or anything like that, I’ve read a lot of books with that in and I hate it.”

“No, Y/N, you do not have to pretend to date Oscar Piastri,” she let out a sigh of relief, “You will, however, have to go to many events with him to show you guys are really just friends off track and rivals on.”

“Ughhhhh. Do I have to? Like what’s the significance of this?” Y/N tried to bargain.

“The significance is,” Gemma started, “not fucking up the internet more than you have - and yes, again, I know it’s not your fault for the interviewer’s question but we need to uphold the reputation of this team. Unfortunately women are always the problem in the media’s eyes.”

Y/N sighed rolling around on her bed and taking a big sip of water,

“Fine, but don’t expect me to apologise to anyone for anything. I hardly did anything wrong!” Maybe the last part was a little fib but Y/N stood her ground.

—

It was media day for the Saudi Arabian grand prix. Y/N sat in her hotel room completing a round of sudoku on her phone - her newest favourite past-time. She was waiting for a knock at her door from Gemma to explain the plan of action for today. Today commenced the ‘sort shit out with Oscar bloody Piastri’ plan, she was given minute details about how they would be miraculously saving each of their reputations. I mean, Y/N could hardly see the problem with rivalry on track, I mean look at Pierre Gasly and Esteban Ocon, they had some issues - Y/N thinks so anyway - and nobody batted an eye, well I guess they weren’t as hostile with each other as Piastri and Y/N are.

A knock resounded through Y/N hotel room.

“Coming!” she went to the door and was met with the smiley face of Gemma,

“Gem you’re,” she checked her watch, “20 minutes early!”

“Yet you are all ready, what happened to ‘Little Miss constantly 10 minutes late’?” Gemma responded.

“Shitting bricks Gem.” Y/N patted Gemma on the back as she stepped out of her room and locked the door, “Let’s get this over and done with, yeah?”

Gemma filled Y/N in on the plan for the start of the day, Y/N would meet Oscar in the foyer of the hotel, have a few laughs and then head to the paddock, they would re-evaluate from there.

Y/N could feel herself gagging as she stepped into the main entrance, yes she was being very dramatic, but this was more stressful than telling her mum she had forgotten to take the chicken out of the freezer to defrost when specifically asked to. Oscar turned and scowled as Y/N walked up to him, this was going to be way harder than he thought. Gemma gave Y/N a firm pat on the back to usher her towards the aussie. They had fake paparazzi stationed just outside the hotel to get the best angles of their positive encounter. When Y/N felt a hand on her back, it was like a switch had been flicked and she grinned at Oscar as though they were best friends, she really channelled the 9 in her drama GCSE for this one moment.

She waved at Oscar as she got closer and he got the memo to sort himself out and act. They began walking out the door and to the shared car they would be taking (Y/N screamed into her hands and nearly punched a hole in the lift door when she found out they'd be car sharing), Oscar opened the door for Y/N to climb into the back seat before he got in. Both Oscar and Y/N had practically begged Gemma to be the peacekeeper and sit between them, but she claimed that she ‘needed to sit in the front because she gets motion sickness’ Y/N called out her shit and said that they had spent millions of car rides together in the back.

It was hard to not grab Oscar by the throat and throttle him into next week but Y/N kept her composure - and kept her hands to herself. It was almost peaceful at first, if you ignore the massive amounts of tension between the two, but that all soon changed as soon as Oscar opened his mouth,

“Do you know how long the car ride is?” he asked, directed to literally anyone in the car who could give him an answer.

“Longer than your F1 debut race” Y/N muttered under her breath, she did mean for him to hear it as she thought it was a pretty good joke. Turns out, it's probably not best to joke about race finishes - in this case, race not finishes - with someone who despises you.

“What the fuck, that’s not funny” he said turning to her.

Y/N stayed staring at her phone but let out a little giggle at his response. Oscar huffed and practically threw himself back into his seat.

“It’s about a 45 minute drive, Oscar” The driver, Kim (also Oscar’s performance coach) answered for him.

‘45 minutes with this bellend’ Y/N said in her mind before rolling her eyes and rotating her phone to watch a show on Netflix.

Oscar was in the same boat ‘No fucking way am I spending 45 minutes with her’ he thought to himself.

A loud ding sound echoed through the back of the car,

“Are you playing sudoku? What are you a fucking child?” Oscar commented. Y/N just scowled at him and stuck her tongue out. Oscar gave her a pointed look, then she realised, huffed, and pushed herself further into her seat.

This was going to be one hell of a car ride.

A/N: Hey guys sorry for the late update, I didn’t drop off the face of the earth. I’ve been so stressed out with schoolwork recently so updates will be scarce 😬 Thank you guys for all the support on the first part I literally love you all!!! Still working out the ropes to tumblr but i promise I will get there in the end.

Taglist: @chiliwhore (comment or lmk to be added i guess!!)