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prettyfastcars · 2 months

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triggered | Mob!Lando

Summary: The two of you had broken up just weeks ago, and it was mainly his fault. But no matter how hard he tried to win you back, you never gave him the opportunity to. Lando hadn’t heard from you or seen you at all in those weeks. And when he did finally catch a glimpse of you, it almost made his heart stop. He hoped he’d find you at a club, or walking down the city streets. He didn’t expect to find a suggestive photograph of you on another man’s phone. And that triggered his anger and jealousy in a way that nothing ever had before.

Themes: exes-to-lovers, jealous!lando, smut, cam girl!reader, lowkey toxic ex!lando, degrading kink, brief aftercare, mild gun play, mild daddy kink

All he saw was pure red.

Earlier this evening, Lando walked into one of the clubs he owned in this city to hopefully drink enough to forget all about the torturous day he’d had. It seemed like ever since the two of you broke up, he had only been having bad days. Mainly because half the time he was busy thinking about you and his brain wasn’t functioning well.

So tonight, after a long day and the longest week ever, he just wanted some drinks and some peace. But of course, life had to torture him some more.

Lando was lounging in one of the couches in the VIP area, constantly having to turn down all the girls who wanted his attention. He barely even saw their faces, they all seemed blurry and since they weren’t you, he didn’t care. So there he was, chilling when he heard a group of men nearby, over on the next couch, laughing and ‘ooh’ ing while looking down at one of their friends’ phone.

As much as he wanted to have them kicked out for their loud, annoying voices, he couldn’t because they were some of the regulars. The group was here almost every weekend. And part of him was also curious to know what had their attention like that. So he listened intently as the guys proceeded to make vulgar comments on pictures that a woman sent one of them apparently. The club was loud, but he was close enough to be able to hear part of their conversation.

“So did you like, ask for this?” One of them asked.

Then the one on whose phone the video was sent, he assumed, answered, “She’s like a cam girl who also does like a private chat thing if you send her enough money. So I requested pictures and she sent these.”

The men laughed, slapping the guy who received the video on the back like he was a hero.

Another asked, “So what’s her name?”

“I don’t know. She always wears hot bunny costumes and she...”

The rest of what he said did even register in Lando’s brain. He totally froze on the couch for a second there.

Bunny costumes? Surely not…

Lando knew of your past as a cam girl. You used to be quite a successful one too. But you stopped when you and Lando started dating about a year ago. Not because he wanted you to, but because you didn’t need the extra money anymore since Lando spoiled you rotten.

His heart raced faster than the cars he liked to drive when he realised how many bunny costumes you owned. It was your go to Halloween costume each year. Plus during your cam girl days, you were known for them.

It can’t be you, right? You wouldn’t… right? Not when he couldn’t even breathe right whenever he thought about how you had ‘broken up’ with him.

He felt hot and cold at the same time, and something, like a twisted gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. So Lando quietly signalled one of his guards over and asked him to bring him that phone that was currently being passed around within that group of men, and also asked him to kick that whole group out.

Within a minute or two, the group was gone and that damn phone was in his hand. And Lando lost it for a moment. All he saw was red, his heartbeats echoed in his ears, his hands shook. He had never felt this level of rage before.

On the screen was a picture of a woman, scantily dressed. Black fishnets, black bodysuit, black bunny ears, black high knee socks. He tightened his grip around the phone so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracked. The woman’s face was turned away, but Lando would recognise that body anywhere. A body he had touched, tasted, fucked too many times to count.

It was you. And the red neon sign behind you only served as more proof that this picture was taken in your bedroom. A bedroom he was in just weeks ago, arguing with you before you two broke up.

He was breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. He checked the date and time of the picture and turned out you had sent it that evening itself, and that only fueled whatever murderous rage had taken over him.

Lando pocketed the stranger’s phone, and pulled out his own and called you. Of course you didn’t pick up and that only pissed him off even more.

Within the next minute, Lando was out of the club, in his car and speeding towards your penthouse. He could barely think straight. He could barely function, it was a miracle he was still able to drive properly.

His heart raced as he surpassed the speed limit like the law meant nothing to him. It rarely ever did but right now, all he cared about was finding you and fuck, he didn’t even know what the fuck to say to you. But he would remind you that you still belonged to him.

He knew it would only piss him off even more but he pulled out that guy’s phone again, and with a few taps he found that damn picture again. He kept an eye on the mostly empty road as he swiped left and right to see if there were more pictures.

There were a couple more. Same outfit, different angles. Always with your face hidden. Lando nearly threw the phone out the window but he knew he’d need it when he would confront you. So he tossed the phone aside, and punched his steering wheel instead. He hoped the pain would maybe take his focus away from the rage he felt, but he barely even felt the punch.

He was shaking by the time he reached your penthouse. His entire being focused on only getting to your floor and knocking on your door. He barely even remembered if he had parked his car in the right spot.

He took deep breaths in the elevator, trying to talk himself out of breaking down your front door the moment he got to it. It was late at night, so even if he did break down the door your neighbours would surely hear it and come investigate.

And for what he had planned for you, he didn’t want an audience. Fuck, he was barely able to think straight after finding a picture of you in another man’s phone. He was certain he would commit heinous crimes if ever someone saw you half naked like that in real life.

He banged loudly on your door. He could hear nothing but silence on the other end. But he knew you’d be home. Since less than an hour ago you sent pictures to a random man.

He called out. “Open up, babygirl.” Lando growled, banging both of his fists onto the wooden door. The sound was loud enough that he could hear it echoing inside the spacious penthouse. He waited to hear something, and he did. Some kind of movement from the other side of the door, but the door remained locked. He yelled louder, “I will break down this door if I have to, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cause a scene?”

Apparently you didn’t because the moment those words left his mouth, he heard a familiar click. The door unlocked, but remained shut. He would’ve smirked and felt triumphant if it wasn’t for the fiery anger inside him which tried to claw its way out.

Lando opened the door, rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. At that point, he didn’t care who heard the commotion he caused. The moment his eyes met yours, he stopped giving a fuck about anything else.

You stood near the entrance. Back against the wall like it would protect you from him. And what pissed him off even more was that you were still wearing that damn costume, minus the bunny ears, from the picture. Something in him snapped as he nearly pounced on you like an actual predator in the wild.

Grabbing you by the neck, he pinned you to the wall. Ignoring your pleas, he pulled out that guy’s phone, found that damn picture and shoved it in your face.

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?!” He snarled, squeezing your throat just a little.

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know what he had found. You didn’t know what kind of twisted invisible string this was, that even after breaking up brought Lando back into your life. Like this no less. You’d been ignoring him for weeks, but somehow he found his way to you now.

“That is none of your business.” You said, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck. Still, you whispered, “What I do is none of your problems anymore. We’re–”

Lando cut you off by throwing the phone to the ground with enough force that it broke and bounced off the floor and hit the front door. Then he leaned closer to you, his eyes quickly scanning your barely dressed body.

Your body reacted the same way it did back when you were together. All Lando ever had to do was give you those bedroom eyes and you’d be dragging him to bed no matter the time of day.

His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the shiny gun he always carried. It had his name engraved on it and everything. He used to let you play with back when–

Your thoughts came to an immediate halt when he carefully pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your parted lips, his eyes staring into yours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of him at that moment. After all, he hadn’t earned the reputation he had for nothing.

“Keep talking, come on.” He whispered, dangerously calm now. “Tell me more about how you’re not my problem anymore.”

He scoffed when you shivered, trailing the barrel of the gun down your body. Leaving your lips, down your chin, down in between your breasts. The almost see-through bodysuit didn’t leave much to the imagination and it both pissed him off and turned him on. He dragged the gun across your stomach, and further down until he pressed the barrel in between your legs, making you whimper like an actual bunny.

He rubbed it in between your legs briefly before dragging it back up your body. “You wanted to be a slutty, little bunny so bad, didn’t you?” He cooed in that voice that sent shivers all over your body. “Go on then, run and hide. Hide as best you can.” He tapped the barrel of the gun on your lower lip a couple of times before saying, “And when I find you, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.”

With that he pulled away, took a few steps back and gave you room to run. It was cruel, whatever game he was playing. But it was messing with your head, turning you on.

Seeing you weren’t moving, he added, “I’ll count till ten. Better get moving, little bunny.”

You ran, hearing him count in the background as your heart raced. The penthouse was spacious, with many nooks and corners to hide in. Like the wine cellar for instance. But Lando knew each and everyone of those hiding spots. He was the one who gifted you the penthouse after all. Besides, no matter how well you hid he would end up finding you anyway.

Still, you ran deep into your walk-in closet and hid behind your thich coats. Crouched down in a corner, you waited to hear if he was coming. His voice reached you before he did.

“I’m coming to find you.” Followed by a deep, scary chuckle. “And when I do, I show you exactly what happens to bad little bunnies who misbehave.”

Time felt like it went by in slow motion as you listened intently for his footsteps. You heard it approaching. Then you heard your bedroom door opening and shutting.

“You’re so predictable,” He sounded disappointed. Yet his voice made you clench your thighs together all the same.

And you were too busy trying to process how your body was reacting to the fear, the sound of his voice, the anticipation of what was to come, that you didn’t hear him enter the closet.

“I know you’re in here,” He called out in a voice that was so calm it made your heart pound even harder. “I can hear you trembling behind those coats, babygirl.”

Shit.

You barely processed it all when his hand reached in and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out of your pathetic hiding spot.

“Lando, please–,”

He cut you off by glaring at you and said, “On your knees.”

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him, looking up to find a wild hunger in those pretty eyes of his.

He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what that pretty mouth is good at. Show me.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck. “You wanted so desperately to be a little slut, right? Sending pictures to random men, huh? Come on then, make it good for me like a slut would.”

His words put you under a spell. Your hands reached up to undo his belt, unzip his trousers and lower his underwear to free his erected cock.

“Come on, little bunny.” He hissed, watching you as you wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on him, your tongue slowly circling his tip.

Lando pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it bunny?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…”

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock. Lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked every bit the powerful man he was. He groaned as he took over, pushing deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it.

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, as you gagged a little, taking him perfectly. “You wanted attention that bad, huh?” He hissed, fucking your mouth harder until your jaws hurt. “Isn’t that why you broke up with me? Because according to you I didn’t give you enough attention?” He thought back to that night you two ‘broke up’.

That menacing tone of his made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs.

He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of your mouth. “All the trips, the cars, the penthouse, that beach house you threw a bratty fit for, all the shit I bought you. None of it was enough for your attention-seeking, bratty self, was it? Hmm?” When you didn’t respond, you earned yourself a smack on your cheek. “You still had to go look for more from another man, is that it?”

You glared at him upon hearing the insinuation in his words.

“Did you think anyone else could treat you like I do? Did you think another man would spoil you like I do?” His stare intensified when you dragged your tongue lazily over the slit on his tip, tasting some of his come and moaning as you did. Smirking, and just to push your buttons he asked, “Did you suck him off like this too?”

That did it. You pulled away, snarling at him, “Fuck you!”

You stood up fast, shoving at his chest. But he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his eyes focusing on your swollen lips. “So you cheat, and then you have the audacity to–,”

You cut him off by raising your voice and saying firmly, “I didn’t cheat! We broke up, remember?”

“And you are mine!” He hissed. “Remember that?”

Before you answered, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Lando pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. Glaring at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again.

It was hot. And messy. And you were too lost in him to think straight, so much that you didn’t realise he was dragging you towards your bed until he pushed you down on it.

Then he pointed at the red neon sign above your bed with a lethal look in his eyes. “This is where you took the picture, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Like a needy little slut.”

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Was it for money?” He taunted, knowing full well he’d put enough money in your account for it to last a lifetime.

All you did was whimper as he crawled on top of you, looking down at you like he couldn’t decide what to do with you. He knelt in between your legs, his hands toyed with the thin material of your body suit, his fingers tracing the outline of it along your inner thighs, then he abruptly tore it, the fabric giving in to his strong hands.

His fingers tore at the fishnets as well, now exposing your wet folds to his dangerous stare. He touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around.

“You’re not gonna show off this body from now on, you hear me?”

“Now you have a problem with it?” You couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that how we met?”

That earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him.

“Yeah we did. And now you’re mine so no one gets to see you like–,”

“But we broke up.”

Lando hated being cut off. But what he hated more than that was when you argued over stupid shit like this. “Say that bullshit again. I dare you.”

You gulped at the sound of his voice. Cold, bitter, threatening. He was getting on your nerves, and perhaps that’s why you whispered sassily, “We broke up.”

And that did it. His hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare.

You could cry that’s how badly you needed him inside you. Lando wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you crying out loud.

He held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “We broke up, huh? You think we’re done, babygirl? Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on.

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough attention, baby?”

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. He couldn’t even bother to get you properly undressed, but something about being so dishevelled as he fucked you, fishnets torn, bodysuit in tatters, it only made it hotter.

His slight stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body was familiar, tight and hot.

Lando looked at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “See?” He whispered, “You’re all mine again. Only mine.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again.

His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on? When you want something, you open that slutty little mouth and ask me for it, you understand? Be it attention, money, or some cock to fill you up.” He growled. “You come to me!”

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. Fuck, you had missed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Are you gonna be good from now on?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re mine, and you’re damn lucky that guy didn’t touch you otherwise I would’ve fucking killed him.” He spoke in a fit of rage again, fueled by his lust.

“Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad, you could feel your eyes tearing up. Your thoughts were a mess.

Lando leaned in to kiss your exposed shoulder while he fucked you. “Answer me first.” He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Are you going to fucking behave or not?”

“I will!” You squealed when he bit down on your shoulder.

“Good girl.”

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier.

Lando kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for me.”

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your thighs.

—

You didn’t remember when he cleaned you up and changed you into your favourite onesie before getting in bed with you. All you remember is waking up at some point during the night, cuddled up with him, safe and warm in his arms.

Lando was awake still, his fingers lazily tracing shapes over your back. You cleared your throat awkwardly and waited for him to say something.

“Why'd you do it?” He asked.

You were silent for a moment. Then answered, “I thought it was time I move on and earn my own money.”

“Your own money.” Lando scoffed. “You have money.”

“It's yours. I'm not gonna use your money when I'm not with you.” A pause. “I've started looking for an apartment, I'll move–,”

He cut you off by twisting his body, and yours, so you laid on your sides facing each other. Even in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare. He grabbed your chin roughly and spoke in that low, menacing voice. “You are gonna stop with this nonsense.”

“But–”

“Shut the fuck up, baby. Don't piss me off.”

You frowned but kept quiet for a few moments. Having him be this close to you reminded you of how addicting he could be. His handsome face. His pretty eyes. His touch. The way he couldn’t help but order you around. He was infuriating. But he made your heart flutter.

“So,” You mumbled, “Now what?”

Lando let go of your chin and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He ignored your question, and instead asked, “Are you in pain?”

You quickly assessed your body and replied, “Just a little sore. That bite on my shoulder hurts though. It's gonna leave behind a mark.” You wrapped an arm around his lean waist too.

“Good.” He said arrogantly. “It'll remind you that you belong to me.”

#lando norris x reader #mob!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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lovelytsunoda · 2 months

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tell it to my heart // jenson button (instagram au!)

summary: jenson and his pop-culture icon wifey celebrate their wedding anniversary and the fans reminisce on how they got there.

pairing: jenson button x 2000s actress! reader

faceclaim: sarah michelle gellar

notes: genuinely sarah michelle and freddie prinze have my whole fucking heart…he’s truly and utterly infatuated by her and they just love each other so much, I’m getting weepy just looking at their wedding photos-

2000sthrowbacks On this day in 2010, "Scooby-Doo" and "I Know What You Did Last Summer" actress Y/N Y/L/N announced her engagement to Formula 1 driver Jenson Button. To celebrate, we're counting down our favorite Y/N roles, starting with Daphne Blake in "Scooby-Doo" and "Scooby-Doo: Monsters Unleashed!"

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user how jenson bagged this baddie i will never understand

-> jensonbutton i still don't understand it either but i love her and she loves me and i hope it stays that way

user mother

user I can’t believe they’ve been married for ten years already….they haven’t aged a day

user I love how they’re both majorly successful in their own fields yet still managed to make time to support each other, even when it meant that YN had to turn down an audition for ‘the ghost of girlfriends past’ so she could be there to watch brawn win the championship

user real talk, has jenson ever asked her to wear the buffy the vampire slayer costume in bed (because if i was him that's what i'd be doing)

->y/nbutton only once and it was awkward for both of us.

Y/N Button on Live with Kelley and Mark

y/nbutton added to her story!

jensonbutton just posted!

liked by y/nbutton, markwebber, lewishamilton and others

jensonbutton happy anniversary to the love of my life, the most beautiful woman in the world, the mother of my children. she's definitely too cool for me, and i take that in stride. in fact, on the day we got married, fernando asked me if i still wanted to go through with the wedding, and that i should tie you down before you realized you could have literally any man in the world. needless to say, it felt surreal that you chose me. we've spent fourteen beautiful years together, and i can't wait for fourteen more.

i love you, y/n.

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y/nbutton i love you more and more with every passing day xx

fernandoalonso you were punching way above your weight class hermano

-> jensonbutton and yet im the one with a wife and you're not?

-> fernandoalsonso shut up

alex_albon she's everything, he's just ken

-> user LMAO ALEX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user parents

user dilf

-> y/nbutton agreed.

-> user milf

-> jensonbutton yes.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @thatsdemko @userlando @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck

#jenson button x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #jenson button x you #f1 smau #ig aus #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #Spotify

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jhkfan123 · 3 months

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million dollar man | coriolanus snow

"you're screwed up and brilliant.."

pairing: academy! snow x fem!academy student

in which: you just couldn't seem to win with him. every 100% you got, he got a 101%. with graduation approaching, you knew you had to get valedictorian somehow. he was making it too difficult.

warnings: slight angst, academic pressure, slight non-con kiss

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i genuinely struggled to write a happy ending but it's finally here

the professor handed you back your test, faced down. she always did, with every other student too, but there was something about receiving it face down that always made you nervous. at least you weren't like some of the others, who constantly left class with their head hung low.

you turned your paper over. 98%. it wasn't good enough. not to your standards, anyway. and it especially wasn't good enough for coriolanus snow, who now was glancing at you from across the classroom, a smug smile on his face. you weren't ever going to hear the end of this, just like every other time he had scored higher than you.

this had to stop. graduation was approaching at a rapid pace, and valedictorian was the role you had aimed for your entire life. both your parents had achieved it, your older brother had too. which meant you pretty much had to. and the boy now looking over at you made it increasingly hard for you to achieve this goal. and worse, he didn't even know how bad you needed it.

you assumed he had gotten a perfect 100. it was the only reason he would already be smiling. it meant there was no way you could beat him. not this time.

you heard your professor dismiss you and for once, you became one of the kids who walked out of class with their head low. you had recently realized how close the valedictorian decision was. this 98% would set you back farther than it should. making your way out, you saw snow approach you out of your periphery. you picked up your pace, hoping he would just back off today.

it didn't work. when you left the crowded sea of people exiting the class, and found yourself closer to your locker, he caught up to you.

"hey 83." 83. it was the lowest you had scored at the academy, and he never let it go. it was aggravating.

"coriolanus, please, i can't do this today" you sighed and finished opening your locker. you put your book away in the small cube and grabbed everything else you needed for your afternoon classes.

"can't what? admit i did better than you on this one?" he showed his paper to you, a big red 100% circled in the top right corner. you rolled your eyes at him and slammed your locker door.

"whatever you want to tell yourself." you groaned and made your way to the lunch line. you noticed his demeanor change. he hated when you weren't up for his competition. it was his favorite part of the day, that's what you determined anyway. he realllllyyy seemed to get a kick of out it. he followed behind you swiftly.

"wait wait wait. what'd you score?" he asked. you thought about wether or not you wanted to tell him. if you didn't he would keep vexing you the rest of the day. if you did, you would have to sit through a couple minutes of verbal torment. you truly couldn't decide what the better option was.

"98." you said, very quietly. just because he wanted to know didn't mean the whole school had to know. you saw a smirk appear on his face.

"sorry what was that?" the look on his face made it crystal clear he had already heard you, he was just provoking you.

"i got a 98, coryo. now please, go find someone else to torment." you urged him away, but he got in the lunch line directly behind you. you sighed again.

"98." he repeated to himself, feeling the success roll of his tongue. "two away from perfect." that's what it seems to be. you were always two away from perfect. there was always something wrong, always something to be improved. you weren't sure if that was your family talking, or the perfectionist inside you. nevertheless, he had suddenly made you more aware of the faults in your recent test. it was maddening.

"look i have a meeting with professor click." you faced him now, which startled him slightly. " and i need to talk to you. i'll swing by you later." you grabbed your lunch tray and headed off.

afterschool, you rushed over coriolanus's dorm. every student had to do at least one semester living on campus for graduation, and most seniors chose the last semester, to live together and be together for the last time. so the walk from your dorm to his was not very extensive. you walked down your hallway, down the stairs, outside, up stairs, and approached his dorm. at least, you were pretty sure it was his. you had never actually been.

you knocked on his door. there was silence for a moment. then you heard a monotone "come in." you did as told and opened the door. you found coriolanus hunched over his desk, his hand fanned over his forehead. he was looking over numerous papers.

you knew the high grades the two of you had achieved came at a cost. multitasking this and a social life was not very possible. you had managed to somewhat pull it off, but it was very difficult to achieve. you had assumed every night was like this for him. study hard, and it pays off. but studying hard also means stress and pain. you looked like this most nights. in fact, it was a miracle you even had time to come visit him today.

"hey." he said, moving the papers off to the side. you never really had seen him like this. he was usually so cocky, such a showboat. but here he was stressed and real.

"hi. look, can we talk?"you stood in the doorway, until he gestured you in. you closed the door behind you. while awaiting his response, you looked around his dorm. there was an empty dorm bed parallel to his. he had attained a room with no roommate. there was a makeshift kitchen where the other desk was. there was a dresser below the window and very basic decorations all around. when you made you way back to coriolanus, he was nodding. "ok. i just want to let you know that i need this."

he seemed confused. "need what?"

"valedictorian. i don't know what kind of pressure you have on your back, but i assure you mine is worse." you began to ramble.

"seriously." he seems dissapointed that this had become the subject of the conversation. "why would i just give up valedictorian to you?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"i'll tell you. my entire family has been valedictorian for years." he rolled his eyes. "if i don't get valedictorian, my parent's would kill me."

he thought for a moment. "and why would i care about that?" he continued to counter your statements.

"because, coryo." you whined "you have the grades, you have everything and i need this because i have not worked my entire life for this to lose." you got more angry now. you didn't deserve to lose to him after spending your entire life studying.

"what makes you think that i have less pressure than you? have you ever considered that maybe the plinth prize is a factor in this?!" he raised his voice now. the statement seemed odd. the snow's were rich, disgustingly rich, right?

"look you may want that prize, but some people need it." you rebutted. you didn't need the prize for the money, but for the satisfaction. so that your parents could frame the certificate on your wall.

"i need it. trust me." he became stricter now. he looked at you with a dark gaze. in what world would a snow need the plinth prize?

"ok well," you thought for a moment. "if i don't get valedictiorian i will have done everything for nothing, and got nothing from everything; from all the hard work i've put in every single year of my life!" snow became more annoyed by the moment, but you couldn't stop rambling. "and i didn't have anything in my way until you decided that everything had to be a competition and you had to beat me, and now you have and i just want you to-"

"shut up." he walked over to you and shut your mouth with a breathtaking, rough kiss. it was completely unexpected, and you fell into a moment of shock. his kiss kept going and you weren't sure wether to shove him away, or let him do it.

usually you wouldn't even have to think and take the first option immediately, but for some reason you let it happen. and out of some world, you kissed him back.

maybe it was all those years of built up anger against him. maybe it was a stress release. maybe you just needed an escape.

but maybe it was something else. you decided that you felt comfortable here, his lips on yours. this complicated feeling of hating him and loving him at the same time. the second one was new. loving him. you didn't have an explanation.

maybe it was the years of arguments that had turned into banter he looked forward to every day. soon the dot's started to connect. you realized how many chances he took to talk to you.

your mother always taught you that boys had a funny way of showing things. a funny way of telling you things. and now it made sense. he had been doing this as a way to talk to you. as a way to get closer to you. you didn't need confirmation. the kiss was enough. you liked this. no. you loved this.

everything became more intense. he hadn't pulled away, and you hadn't either, so you kept going. you felt his hands around your waist as he pushed you against the front wall of the dorm.

you could have kept going all night with him. but you needed to hear him talk. you finally pulled away and took your first deep breath after around five minutes.

"what. the hell." you said through exasperated breaths. you spoke the words to him, but also to yourself. this was not how you expected the day to go.

"god." you heard him mumble under his breath.

"what?" you asked.

"i just hate that i waited so long to do that." his comment sent goosebumps through your body.

"i didn't even know i wanted that until now." you again, spoke to both yourself and him. he smiled at you. proud of his accomplishment.

this was a different type of success that you normally felt. this success in romance felt different than the academic success you had been working towards your whole life.

you liked this success.

#jhkfan123 #coriolanus snow #hunger games #snow lands on top #hungergames #tbosas #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader #coriolanussnow #coriolanus smut #coryo #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #academic rivals

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foreingersgod · 10 days

Note

ok hiiii! i’m the anon that asked for nika! sooo maybe a fic where reader is another players sister (or best friend, whatever you think would fit) and the player brings reader to a game and reader meets nika and it’s like love at first sight? maybe not as cringy as i made it sound lol, but i hope you get what i mean!

💗💗

to requester: i saw your other request and decided i’ll do them separately so we can enjoy more nika content!

Best Friends Sister . NM

pairing: nika muhl x reader

synopsis: you tag along with your parents for your sister’s game, not knowing it would be the best decision of your life.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

paigey: are you coming tonight with mom and dad or no?

you: only if you don’t hit me with another basketball then sure

paigey: i said i was sorry, dude. you should come though, i haven’t seen you for a minute

you: yea sorry, been busy and stuff. i’ll be there!

it was rare for you to attend your sister’s games on a regular basis. as much as you loved her and wanted to support, you were slammed with work and school and friends, the whole 9 yards. plus, watching millions of girls freak out over your sister was not your idea of a good time. but you’d been missing paige lately and wanted to show your sisterly support at least a few times this season.

so there you were, sitting outside your apartment on the concrete steps of the building, waiting for your parents to pick you up for the game. clad in UCONN attire, you picked at the weeds growing in between the cracks of stone.

arriving at the stadium, you could already sense the chaos. seeing all the girls there to see your sister play, it was a weird feeling. but once you made your way closer to the court with your family, seeing how happy paige looked out there, it made you feel insanely proud.

UCONN was up by 6 and your sister was killing it. being able to see her improvement throughout the game was truly rewarding to see. you cheered and hollered for each score until the end of the game finally rolled around, UCONN secured the win.

paige celebrated with her team for a few moments, reveling in their success before making her way to where you all sat. she greeted your parents with hugs, mom kissing her on the cheek and dad patting her back. then she maneuvered to you, dabbing you up before pulling you into a hug or your own.

“you killed it out there loser,” you congratulated “glad i got to see you play tonight, i’ve missed you!”

she laughed “thanks, me too”

paige worked her way around the rest of your family, taking time to chat with everyone. then she pulled you aside, motioning for you to follow her back down to the court.

“what?” you questioned, showing up at her side.

“thought i’d introduce you to everyone, plus aaliyah hasn’t seen you in forever and has been begging to see you”

you were always close with a few a her teammates, some of them being in paige’s life for so long that they became a part of your family. aaliyah, you were especially close with. but a lot of her other, newer teammates, you had yet to meet.

when you arrived on the court, paige leading you to the team, you started to spot some familiar faces. aaliyah ran over to you the second she saw you. pulling you into a bear hug and scolding you for not visiting more often. you greeted ice, too, congratulating her on a good game. it was nice to see them all again, catching up for lost time.

while in a conversation with aaliyah about how your job was going, paige politely pulled you aside again. she dragged you through the small crowd saying “i wanna introduce you to someone, i don’t think you’ve met yet”

finally, she stopped pulling you, coming to a halt just in front of the bench seats. paige was right, some girl you didn’t recognize sat on one of the seats, wiping the sweat from her brow and catching her breathe.

“hey, nika, i wanted to introduce you to my sister, YN!” paige said over the havoc of the stadium.

she looked up upon hearing paige summon her, eyes moving from paige’s and then to yours. she caught your attention right away, and suddenly, nothing else mattered once you locked eyes with the girl.

nika, you recalled paige calling her that, was the most beautiful girl you’d seen in your entire life. you studied every feature of her face right in that moment. her hair, you could only imagine how soft it was, pulled back in a near ponytail. her rosy cheeks, flush from exhaustion and excitement. her pearly white teeth that were so bright when she smiled at you. she was perfection if it were a person.

she was examining you as well, you could tell by the ways her eyes flickered between your eyes and down to your lips (triangle method iykyk). for a faint moment, it was just the two of you, lost in each others gaze. there was something about her, you couldn’t place it, but you wished you’d never have to look away.

unfortunately for you, your day dreams were interrupted when paige spoke up, confused by the silence.

“earth to nika” she waved her hand jokingly in front of her face “did you hear me? this is YN”

her eyes painfully pulled away from yours, looking at paige in surprise “right! sorry, i think i’m still a bit light headed”

she stood up, walking towards you and extending her hand out to you “very nice to meet you, YN, i didn’t know paige had a sister!”

your throat fell dry as you took her hand, gently shaking it. her touch lingered as her fingers swept against yours “nice to meet you too! yea i’m kind of all over the place and not around much so the team hasn’t seen a lot of me recently”

she eyed you again as you spoke. she tucked loose hairs behind her ear, smirking in a sultry manner.

“i get it, life’s busy” she bit her lip just enough for you to notice “but i’d..um-i’d like to see you around more”

“yea, hopefully i can stick around for a few more games” you joked, trying to hide how flustered you were.

“i’ll count on it” she said, then turned back to paige as she fumbled around in her bag, getting ready to leave “hey i gotta go catch up with a few people, but i’ll see you tomorrow?”

paige nodded, saying her goodbyes for the evening.

“see you around, YN” nika remarked, shoulder brushing against yours slightly as she walked past you, leaning in to whisper to you “and uh, do you think that maybe…maybe i could grab your number from paige or something? only if it’s ok with you”

you nodded your head vigorously, “yea, yes that’s more than ok with me”

she nodded back, flashing those dazzling teeth at you again before rushing across the court. you turned to face paige and saw the contorted look on her face.

“what the hell was that?” she asked.

“nothing” you suppressed a smile “it’s nothing”

that night, after the excitement of the game had worn off and you were back home, you were tucked into bed about to fall asleep. your phone buzzed abruptly, cashing you to roll over and pull it from its charger. your eyes squinted shut from the bright light of the screen.

unknown: hey is this YN? it’s nika :)

you didn’t have to think twice before responding and creating her contact.

you: it is, hi nika <3

nika: sorry to text you so late, paige was…very hesitant about giving me your number lol, but i was hoping i could take you out sometime if you’d want?

you: haha she’s annoying sometimes i’m sorry!

but i would love to you out with you!

nika: great! are you free friday? maybe 6ish?

you: definitely, it’s a date <3

you couldn’t stop smiling as you texted the rest of the night. who would have thought a basketball game would have changed your life completely?

#nika muhl #nika mühl #nika muhl x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #uconn wbb

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moviecritc · 12 days

Note

Hi! Could you do a driver!reader who is dating Max and is in ferrari and the whole Carlos thing is happening to her so in Australia she ignores team orders and goes to win the race. Charles is mad at her and in the post race interview when asked about it she is just like "Happy multi 21 day everyone" and like Max is so fucking proud his gf is in her reputation era 💅💅💅

on the edge ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: charles leclerc being himself (a bitch)

a/n: this is my first request it makes me very very happy!! thanks anon for your request, i hope you like this. i love max with all my heart and i love writing about him aswell.

just wanted to tell you guys that for the requests you can ask for reader and oc, even though when it's not a request it'll probably be an oc bc i love to give names to my characters <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Y/N didn't have a seat for the upcoming Formula 1 season, and that stressed her out quite a bit. She and Charles had been teammates for three years, and she really thought Ferrari would keep her on the team, but upon learning that Lewis Hamilton was leaving Mercedes, they were the first to snatch him up and turn their backs on her.

Now she had two options: give up, pray to sign with Williams or Haas, or outperform herself this season and force her way into one of the top five teams. And for now, she had chosen the second option. P3 in the first race and in the top five in the second. She was extremely motivated for Australia.

Y/N loved the view of the fireworks from the podium, the champagne, and, above all, celebrating with Max Verstappen. Because let's not lie, it was obvious that Max would be on most of the podiums.

They kept their relationship out of the media. Being coworkers, neither of them wanted their relationship to hinder their success in Formula 1, but that didn't mean they didn't support each other every time the other achieved something.

Max had been with her throughout her Formula 1 career. They were the same age, but when Max debuted in the competition, she was still in Formula 2, battling against Albon and Russell for the title. A year before his debut, Y/N got a spot at Alpha Tauri as a reserve driver. It was in that year that Max and she started a relationship, at first quite casual and sporadic until they realized they were too obsessed with each other not to formalize it. And four years later, they were still together, sharing an attic in Monaco and competing together for the championship.

"It's going to be great for both of us, I'm sure," Y/N nodded. Before each race, they had a kind of ritual where they wished each other good luck, hugged, and kissed.

"I see a Y/Nstappen 1-2," Max assured before giving her a long kiss, resting his arms on his girlfriend's waist.

"I hope so,"

"Oh, come on. You're starting fourth, it'll be bad if you don't get on the podium," Max said. He knew her situation in Formula 1 was tense and did everything he could to make her feel good and positive. Max loved racing with her, and if she ended up off the grid next season, he would probably suffer from seasonal depression.

They kissed once more and were about to hug when someone knocked on Max's door to get them to the drivers' parade. They couldn't complete their little ritual, but neither of them gave it too much importance.

They went out to the parade where she was asked about her future in Formula 1, as they had been doing since the season started. That also annoyed her, would it always be like this from now on? Would everything be oriented towards whether she was unemployed or not? She answered with the best smile she could and ended the interview as quickly as possible.

She returned to Max, who was leaning on the fence of the truck they were being taken in for the parade. She leaned on the railing, holding it with her hands. Then Max discreetly placed his hand on hers, making her smile at the contact. Max wasn't very fond of physical contact, but if he could manage to brush against her shoulder, he would, maintaining professionalism wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"How's it going, mates?" Surprisingly, Leclerc approached them to start a conversation, first fist bumping with Max and then with Y/N, pressing his lips a little.

Their relationship as teammates was quite complicated at the moment. She was killing it in the few races that had passed, while Charles was just doing okay. Plus, although when Y/N joined the team, Charles and she had gotten along very well, that year they had been growing apart for obvious reasons.

They talked for a while about the race and expectations, especially Max and Charles, while Y/N disconnected from the situation a bit. Sometimes she was surprised that Charles and Max got along so well.

"Good luck today, Y/N," Charles said before leaving with Gasly.

Y/N blinked and looked at Max, puzzled. "What did he mean by that?"

"What do you mean?" Max frowned a little.

"He wished me luck, as if he thought I needed it," she insisted, biting her cheek.

"Everyone needs some luck, Y/N," Max said, knowing how nervous she could get when something didn't fit in her head.

"He didn't say anything to you," Y/N argued, crossing her arms.

"I mean…" Max tilted his head a little, eliciting a little smile from Y/N. "Don't dwell on it too much, you'll do great."

She loved that, how Max was able to lift her spirits in any situation, getting a little smile out of her. She loved him for that.

The parade ended, and they each went to their garage, fist bumping as a farewell because anything else would cause a stir in the media. In the Ferrari garage, her engineer commented on the strategies that focused on supporting and defending Charles even if he started two positions below her.

She gave Charles a short glance before going to the cars and taking their respective positions. It’s light and away we go. Y/N was so focused on passing Lando Norris that she didn't realize her boyfriend was no longer in first place, actually, he wasn't there anymore. She asked the engineers what had happened; Max had had some problems with the brakes and had retired from the race. "Don't fuck with me," she said, not fully believing it. "Is Max okay?"

"We don't know, focus on the race," her engineer emphasized.

"When you know, tell me, please," Y/N added, without receiving a response. There had been no accident, no red flag, so he was probably fine. But if there was smoke and sparks, there was always a chance that something had happened to him in the pits.

Y/N took a couple of breaths and refocused on the race. She looked on the bright side; she was third and had a chance to win. A few laps later, she managed to overtake Lando Norris. She pitted, and in the last third of the race, she was in first place. Behind her was Charles, so she thought they would change the strategy, and he would be the one defending the position.

"Y/N, let Charles pass," her engineer said, taking her by surprise.

"What?" Y/N practically shouted. "But I'm in first,"

"They're team orders, let him pass,"

"He's slow! He's over half a second behind me, letting him pass will make me slow down!" She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Y/N."

"If he can overtake me, let him, but I'm not letting him pass. I'm winning this fucking race."

And so it was. Y/N crossed the finish line first, and when she got out of the car, Max was there to greet her with a hug. He tried to make her not notice that there were hardly any people from her team there, but Y/N realized it, and her gaze darkened a little. Still, Charles came second, and when he parked his car, several Ferrari mechanics went to congratulate him.

Max watched Y/N, worried that she would take it badly. But then he saw her exchange a triumphant

look with Charles, who, upon seeing her, turned serious. And if that wasn't enough, she blew a kiss to Charles and then went with Max, who put an arm around her shoulders.

"That was incredible," Max said.

"The race or Charles's face?" she questioned, with an ironic smile.

"Both. I thought you'd be sad because there was no one to greet you,"

"You were there,"

"From your team, I mean," Max explained.

"You and I are a team, Maxie. Have you never thought about that?" She looked at him with a smile. "You're right, we are,"

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked. "I got quite worried when you DNF’d."

"I'm okay, no serious damage,"

"And emotionally?"

"I'm fine. Proud of you, above all," Max nodded. "Now go celebrate your podium, I'll be watching you from below,"

They gave each other a brief kiss on the cheek, not caring too much about the cameras; she had just won the race, she deserved at least a kiss from her boyfriend. She received her prize with a smile and celebrated the podium with Charles and Lando, more with Lando than with Charles. The McLaren driver had congratulated her countless times that day, but Charles barely spoke to her.

"Are you okay, mate?" Y/N asked, knowing what was coming.

"You didn't follow team orders," Charles said directly.

"Oh, right. That," she shrugged, raising her eyebrows. "You came second, Charles. It's not that bad,"

"Damn, but if they tell you to let me pass, you let me pass. What does it matter to you?" he raised his voice a little.

"What does it matter to you? You have your golden seat at Ferrari. Some of us have to work really hard to have a seat, crazy, right?" Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile and turned around, leaving Charles with a word on his lips.

Y/N reached the interview area, where Lando and Oscar were doing their respective interviews.

"Y/N! You won the race by disobeying team orders, does it feel the same as winning a race fair and square?" a man asked.

"Fair and square? I was fast enough to cross the line first, the rest weren't. I think that's how a race is supposed to be won," she argued. She smiled widely; she saw Max was also around, waiting for his turn for interviews.

"Don't you have any remorse?" he questioned.

"Not one,"

She ended the interview after that; she didn't feel like explaining. As she turned around, she found Max with an almost mischievous smile. They fist bumped, and he went to do the interview. "Max, can we ask you about the win of your girlfriend?"

"About Y/N,"

"Yes, about Y/N," he nodded.

"I'm extremely proud of her, it's her second victory, and even though I had to retire, I'm glad she won this race,"

"Even given the circumstances of the victory?" the reporter questioned.

"With the circumstances of the victory," Max assured with a broad smile.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #australian gp 2024 #charles leclerc #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you #max verstappen one shot #noraverse 🫧

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themissinghand · 6 months

Note

Nice to meet you🤗..If the request is still open, Can I ask for Dokja's request for lucky female readers?🥹..Where do reader have high good luck?.The reader and Kim Dokja have known each other for a long time because the reader first started a conversation with Dokja (I'm sure it's fun when Dokja introduces reader to his group😂.) It's okay if not. Just don't be stressed by the requests. I hope the requests don't bother you.. Thank you.. And may your whole day till night be good.. Bye-bye.. Don't forget to take care of yourself.🤗💕

Omniscient Reader Viewpoint Lucky Star

Summary: In which Dokja finds his lucky star.

Or, maybe he’s not that unlucky after all.

Pairing: Kim Dokja x Lucky! F! Reader

Note: Thanks for your patience! Make sure you all take care of yourselves too~

Noona: typically used by younger male to call an older female or sibling.

Warning: None.

★・・・・・・★

If there is an angel in this world, then it must be you.

You were a bright light in his life, providing salvation to him in forms of patience, encouragement, and friendship.

You were his manager at the game company he worked at. Someone who was vibrant and cheerful, who possessed an uncanny ability to turn the mundane into moments of joy.

"Dokja! Let’s go for a drink!" You would say, your infectious enthusiasm pulling him into a world where deadlines and stress would melt away.

But you also knew when to not take in bullshit.

“Hey (Y/N), why are you overreacting? Huh? Just because I didn’t do my work the one time-“

“One time? It’s been a week since you did anything. And you put it on the newbie to finish it?”

“So what? You’re a terrible manager anyway, that’s why women shouldn’t work here-“

A snap silenced him.

“Hey mother fucker, calculate your severance pay. Talk to me like that in the disputes office and see who dies first.”

Kim Dokja heard it accidentally, but from then on, his respect for you has soared above the clouds.

"Dokja, you've got this! I'll teach you the ropes.”

Dokja marveled at your ability to lead the team with outspoken confidence, patiently teaching him the ropes and offering unwavering support when the challenges of the workplace seemed overwhelming.

“Happy birthday to our newbie, Kim Dokja!”

“Merry Christmas everyone! I got some gifts!”

“Ya, let’s go out for a drink everyone! I got the holy bank card from the boss!”

The team loves you for being a beacon of light, someone who could be fun and leader-like at the same time.

Dokja couldn't help but think that you must be cherished by the heavens, as you were blessed with an extraordinary dose of luck.

Like how you would “accidentally” meet important connections and befriend them, leading to successful results in projects.

Or how you would win those in gacha games with the character that you wanted.

“Noona, if you were in a game, your luck stat would be maxed out.”

“I guess so, but isn’t that good?”

Very soon after, little did he know that your luck would soon become a lifeline when the world plunged into chaos.

When the apocalypse struck, Dokja stumbled upon the familiar face in an unlikely place – the convenience store, hastily gathering supplies with a calm demeanor that belied the impending doom. It was then that he realized the depth of her luck, a quality that extended beyond corporate success.

Like how does someone find a healing elixir in a pile of junk food in the convenience store!?

Or how does she find a ultra rare bow in a police station?

What is this unfair world!?

Dokja appreciates your help and your luck, but at the same time, he can’t help but lament on his own life.

Perhaps the luckiest thing that happened to him was dating you.

With such a thought, Kim Dokja’s lips curled up and hugged you from behind.

“What wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Does my good boy want some love?”

Although he was blushing aggressively and in public, he couldn’t help but nod.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is squealing and wishing for grandchildren]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ play a main character of a romance comedy show]

[The Constellations have sponsored you 1000 coins]

“Get a room.”

Dokja expected the worst when Yoo Joonghyuk entered the scene, but to his surprise, your life was spared.

“She’s useful.” Says the emo sunfish as he glares at Dokja for absolutely no reason.

(Okay, there might be that one time where he returned a punch, and absolutely wrecked that protagonist…no regrets)

Dokja wants to smack him a few times in the face.

The revelation that her constellation was the Secretive Plotter added another layer of mystery to her extraordinary luck. The constellation seemed to guard her against many dangers, marking her as someone to be protected, though for some unknown reason.

Can’t say Kim Dokja has any complaints about that at all.

You must be protected at all costs.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks her lucky encounters and moments are interesting]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ donates 1864 coins]

Whatever it is, Kim Dokja has no complaints…scrap that, he has too many complaints since he has too many rivals!

“(Y/N), you are my lucky star right?”

“Yep! Don’t worry!” She pats him on the head and he ignores the knowing looks from others on the team.

“Hug.”

“Someone’s needy today.” Kim Dokja gave others the middle finger behind your back as he rested his head on your shoulders.

From that point on, Dokja affectionately dubbed her his "lucky star" or, as they playfully jokes, his "lucky charm."

Whether it was winning luck-based games or navigating perilous situations unscathed, your fortunate aura became a source of both amusement and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

“So, what’s it like raising a puppy as a Sugar Mommy?” Han Sooyoung asks you, who chuckles lightly.

“Han Sooyoung.” Kim Dokja twitched a brow, but calmed down a bit when you held his hand.

“He’s not a puppy, but he’s cute and bites people he doesn’t like. And he protects me well!”

“(Y/N)!” Kim Dokja blushes in embarrassment but couldn’t say anything in his stuttering mess.

Han Sooyoung raised a brow before she mimicked a barfing action.

“Damn girl, you have it hard, I respect you.” She patted your shoulder before leaving.

“Dokja, just like I’m your lucky star and charm, you are my lucky puppy. Okay?”

Looking at your puppy face, Dokja couldn’t say no.

“Fine…just don’t call me that in public…”

Kim Dokja felt a kiss in his nose, and he reciprocated the action by lacing your hands together.

“Aw, who’s a good boy?”

“Stop it…”

Your laughter is music to his ears, and while sometimes your teases make him want to hide somewhere in a hole and die from embarrassment, he loves you all the same.

“Get a room!”

“Shut up you sunfish!”

Maybe cursing at the protagonist isn’t the greatest idea.

(When has that ever stopped him?)

“I will kill you Kim Dokja!”

374 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 22 days

Text

guilty conscience (+18)

chapter i

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed.

was money worth breaking someone’s heart?

When your agency informed you that Ward Cameron was interested in hiring you for the entire summer, you weren’t the least bit fazed.

A millionaire spending money on escorts? Groundbreaking.

But you were pleased to be the one getting paid.

The prospect of being hired for the entire summer by a millionaire was more than appealing, especially since it meant a steady stream of income without having to worry about searching for new clients.

You hoped that he wouldn't turn out to be a creep, like a few of the clients you had encountered in the past. While most of them were respectful, aware of the rules, and simply seeking companionship, there were always a few who made the experience an absolute nightmare.

But you remained optimistic. Ward Cameron's reputation preceded him as a successful and influential man. Nonetheless, it was wise to keep your guard up.

“Ward Cameron? As in the millionaire?!" Serena's surprise was palpable even through the phone. You called her the moment you got the email, your brain barely functioning.

"Yeah, that's the one," You confirmed, "You think I should take it? It’s just... it's a whole summer commitment. What if he's, like, super weird or something?”

“Do I think you should take it? Do I think—, duh, yes! Worst-case scenario, you bail after a week and come crash at my place.”

Serena's response came through with all the enthusiasm you expected from her. She was always the one to push you out of your comfort zone, in the best possible way.

"Pretty girl, you gotta seize the opportunity!" She continued, her excitement contagious even over the phone. "A millionaire summer gig? That's like winning the lottery, but, you know, better!"

You couldn't help but laugh, "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Serena."

"You know me, always the supportive friend," she a quipped back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You've got a point," you chuckled, shaking your head. "But seriously, what do you think?"

Serena's tone softened. "Honestly, it sounds like a sweet deal. A whole summer with a rich man? Sign me up. I mean, come on," she insisted. "Think of all the fancy parties, luxurious fits, and who knows what else! Plus, hello? Ka-ching!" She added, and you knew she was making a money gesture with her hand even though you couldn’t see her.

You couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, the paycheck isn't too shabby either."

"Just be sure to keep your pepper spray handy. You never know with these rich fuckers."

"Got it," you replied, rolling your eyes. "But hey, if he's anything like his reputation, it could be smooth sailing."

"Here's to hoping," Serena said, sounding genuinely hopeful. "Just promise me you'll spill all the juicy details when you get back."

"You know I will," you replied, already picturing the gossip-filled catch-up session you'd have with her at the end of the summer. "Thanks for telling me off the ledge."

"Anytime, babe," she said, her voice warm with affection. "Now go get 'em”.

The evening to meet him eventually arrived, and you found yourself seated at a luxurious table in a fancy restaurant nestled in the heart of Beverly Hills, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the sophisticated decor. You were clad in a backless gold Dior gown that shimmered under the soft lighting. Your first big splurge years ago.

The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, its sleek silhouette exuding elegance. The plunging neckline revealed a hint of décolletage, adding a touch of allure to the ensemble.

It was a statement piece, designed to turn heads and command attention. You knew what you were doing, how to play the game.

There was no rookie move on your part, ever. You’d chosen it carefully, wanting to make a lasting impression on Ward without overshadowing the refined ambiance of your surroundings.

No matter how many times you did it, how confident you became in your craft, you still felt your heart pounding as you waited for him. He was certainly the most influential man you had ever encountered, and that kind of power freaked you the fuck out.

Moments later, he sauntered into the restaurant, every inch the epitome of sophistication. His suit was impeccably tailored to fit his frame. Each stitch seemed to scream, "I have money to burn."

Which he did.

You couldn't help but wonder just how much that suit cost.

Hundreds? Thousands? It was probably more money than you made in a month, maybe even two. Yet, there he was, wearing it like it was no big deal.

As he approached your table, a subtle smile played at the corners of his lips.

"Good evening, Mr. Cameron," you greeted him, rising to your feet with a polite smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Ward, please," he replied smoothly, extending his hand for a handshake. "The pleasure is all mine. You look even more stunning than your photos."

You accepted his handshake, "Thank you, Ward. Shall we?" You gestured toward our table, and he nodded in agreement.

You found yourself scrutinizing his every move, trying to break down his intentions behind that charming facade.

“So tell me, what drove you into this…industry?”

The way he said it rubbed you the wrong way. His tone seemed condescending, which didn’t surprise you at all. It seemed like there was more behind his question than just casual curiosity. Was he testing you?

It felt as though he was probing, searching for something beyond the surface level. His demeanor carried a hint of arrogance that grated against your nerves.

And honestly, you had punched men for lesser.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you maintained your polite smile.

"Well, Ward, it's a combination of factors, really," You began, choosing your words carefully. "I've always been intrigued by the dynamics of human connection and the opportunity to create meaningful experiences for others."

Bullshit.

You almost wanted to laugh at how easily the lie came out of your lips.

You did this because it was easy money. After all, men were stupid enough to pay for you to sit next to them at events, they were pawns, a means to an end, always.

You watched his expression closely, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor. It was as though your response had piqued his interest, just like you planned. But you couldn’t underestimate a man of his caliber, surely, he wasn’t as easy to manipulate as the guy next door.

Ward nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

"Interesting," he mused, his tone neutral. "It's rare to find someone who approaches this line of work with such... philosophical perspective."

You resisted the urge to bristle at his comment, choosing instead to deflect.

"Well, I've always been a romantic at heart," you replied, injecting a hint of playfulness into your tone. "I suppose it's just part of my charm."

Again, bullshit. But he seems more interested in your shiny pink lipgloss than the words coming out of them.

Men.

To your relief, Ward chuckles softly, the tension in the air dissipating slightly.

"Indeed," he conceded, a hint of warmth softening his features. "Charm certainly seems to be one of your many qualities."

The dinner went smoothly. You let him show off and order for the both of you, complimenting his choice of wine even though it tasted like absolute shit, and you would have rather drown a beer than drink that ever again. But alas, there was a façade to maintain.

Ward regaled you with stories of his business ventures, his travels, and his philanthropic endeavors. You listened attentively, nodding and smiling at all the right moments, even if you would rather shoot yourself in the foot than listen to another white savior tale of his.

“If you don’t mind, Ward, I’d like to discuss our arrangement.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity as he set down his wine glass, turning his attention fully to you. "Of course, my dear. Straight down to business, I like that.”

Ew.

You leaned back in your chair, “I’m sure you’ve been informed about the agency’s policy. I’d just like to know what events you’d like me to attend.”

Ward's only stared at you for a moment before he leaned foward, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, yes, the agency's policy. Quite straightforward, isn't it?" He mused, swirling the wine in his glass absently.

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral, though inside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Indeed.” you replied evenly, your voice betraying none of your inner turmoil.

“I’m afraid this job is going to be a little different from what you’re used to, honey.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. What the hell was that supposed to mean? You had encountered your fair share of peculiar clients in the past, but something about Ward's demeanor sent a shiver down your spine.

Suppressing the urge to bolt from your seat, you forced a polite smile and nodded, trying to maintain an air of professionalism, “I see. Different in what way?"

He sighed, running a hand through his greyish hair, “Truth is, I didn’t hire you for myself.”

You blinked, trying to process Ward's words as your mind tried not to jump into the worst possible case scenario. What did he mean he didn't hire you for himself?

“I don’t understand?”

Ward studied you with a calculating gaze. "I apologize for any confusion," he began, his tone measured. "You see, I didn't hire you to be my companion for the summer."

A cold knot of dread formed in the pit of your stomach. You hated people who can’t just jump straight to the point, circling the subject like a stupid party trick.

"Then who did you hire me for?" you asked.

Ward's lips curled into a knowing smile, and for a moment, you felt a surge of panic coursing through you.

"I hired you for my son."

Okay, what the fuck.

You were positive your face probably gave away your exact thoughts, because he was speaking again before you could spit out the words.

Ward continued, his tone taking on a note of urgency. "You see, my son has been going through a difficult time lately.”

You only hoped you were not about to get roped into spending the entire summer with a man-child.

“Define difficult.”

“Two years ago he recovered from a drug addiction.”

You didn’t want to sound like an insensitive bitch, but drug addiction problems were more than common among the rich kids.

“Okay. And?”

“And he’s better now. He’s great, actually—“

“But?” You interrupted with a tilt of you head, “What’s the catch?”

“Recently, he’s been spending time with a girl, who I do not approve of.”

Roping you into a situation like this felt incredibly manipulative, not to mention unfair to both you and his son. You were not born to put up with other people family drama.

“Why don’t you approve of her?”

Ward snorts, wiping his lips with the napkin, “She’s not good enough for him. Hangs around with the kind of people that ruined his life.”

"And you think hiring me to spend time with your son will somehow fix…this?" you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“You’re not just spending time with him, honey.”

“Excuse me?”

He brought his hands to his face, rubbing, “I need you to date him.”

He must be out of his fucking mind.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. The absurdity of the situation struck you harder, “Date him?" you repeated between cracks, shaking your head in disbelief.

The man was clearly going through a mid-life crisis because there was no fucking way he was being serious.

Ward's expression darkened, his brows furrowing in irritation as your laughter filled the restaurant.

"Is something amusing?" his voice cut through the air like a blade.

You struggled to stifle your laughter, the weight of his serious tone finally sinking in.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say between chuckles, though the amusement still lingered in your voice. "I thought you weren’t serious.”

Ward's jaw clenched, “You think I’d be here if I wasn’t serious?” he snapped, his tone stern. "My time is money.”

"Well, forgive me for finding the situation...unexpected," you reply, exaggeratedly flicking your gaze upward. "But hiring someone to date your son? That's not exactly normal.”

Ward's eyes narrowed slightly, his irritation palpable. "It's necessary," he retorted, his tone sharp. "My son's well-being is at stake here.”

Fucking dramatic. Rich people would never fail to amuse you with their hobbies.

Paying someone to date his son? It sounded like something straight out of a soap opera. But you knew better than to let your mouth get the best of you, especially when there was money on the line.

You held his gaze, unflinching. "And you think that hiring me to date him is the solution?"

“Yes.”

Ward's answer was curt, leaving no room for further discussion.

Dating his son was definitely not what you had signed up for, but the allure of the paycheck had you second-guessing your morals.

Realistically, Ward's son would probably never like you, you’d date for a few weeks, keep him away from the girl of his dreams, get paid and ta-dah.

"Alright. I'll hear you out, what exactly do you expect from me in this...arrangement?"

"You’ll be staying in the Outer Banks. I’ll pay for your tickets and accommodations. You’ll be paid weekly, extras will be included.”

“Extras?”

The word lingered in the air. It sent alarm bells ringing in your mind.

“Listen, your agency’s has a policy, I don’t care if you break it or not, you do whatever you gotta do.”

You snap, tired of biting your tongue, "I'm not a prostitute."

Ward's brows shot up, his expression momentarily taken aback by your bluntness. "Pardon me?"

You could feel the weight of his stare, analyzing your every move, every expression. But you refused to back down. You had principles, lines you wouldn't cross, no matter the paycheck.

"I said, I'm not a prostitute," you reiterated, "I don't engage in any activities that cross the line of professional companionship.”

Ward's jaw clenched as he assessed you, as though trying to decipher whether you were bluffing or not.

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with thinly veiled frustration. "Fine," he relented, his tone icy. "But do remember you're replaceable."

Of course, he would resort to threats when he didn't get his way.

Typical.

"I'm well aware of that," you replied coolly, refusing to let him see any sign of weakness. "But if you want me to do this, it's going to be on my terms. Take it or leave it."

Ward's lips tightened into a thin line, "As you wish," he bit out, his tone dripping with irritation. "But don't expect any special treatment."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, hiding the satisfaction bubbling inside you. "Wouldn't dream of it."

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe rec #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe

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totaly-obsessed · 8 months

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Sleepy

Barca Femení x reader fic

-> The reader suffers from anxiety and has to go on meds again - barca girls see her struggling with tiredness.

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

This season had been exciting and it was nearing it’s end. Together with Lucy Bronze, you joined Barcelona’s women’s team last year after the Euros, Keira Walsh joining you both in September.

Now your first season at the club was coming to it’s end. And it was a successful one – winning the ‘Supercopa’ and the league after disqualifying from the ‘Copa de la Reina’.

The only thing missing? A Champions League trophy. And your team made it to the finale against Vfl Wolfsburg – your old team.

You had always struggled with anxiety but the fact that you would be playing such a big tournament against most of your national teammates and your childhood friends Lena and Jule made it so much worse.

Your anxiety had originally settled once you found your place in the club and made peace with coming second in the Euros – but now? In this position? It got worse again. Many interviewers wanted to talk to you, interested in how you felt going up against your old team. The whole world was watching, or at least that is what it felt like to you. Your anxiety being at an all-time high.

It was Alexia, who was back in group training and back on the pitch, who contacted our club’s psychiatrist after realizing, that you wouldn’t do anything against your fear.

That is how you ended up in this situation.

After talking with your therapist, you were now talking to Jonatan and the entire trainer team, to make sure that they put you on the right anxiety medication. In the end, everyone concluded, that Lorazepam would be your best bet.

Throughout the whole conversation, you said nothing – just giving consent to the pills.

Alexia waited outside the room for you, trying to see how it went but when you just stormed by her effectively shoulder-checking her – she knew she messed up.

Your feet carried you directly into the protective arms of Ana, who took a very mothering role in your life, as did most of the older players. The blonde didn’t question why you were sobbing into her shoulder and just let you be, pulling you into a meeting room, that wasn’t occupied.

“What happened?” hearing her speak German, was comforting, it gave you a sense of home.

“They put me on pills again.” And the sobbing continued. Anna cooed softly, stroking your hair hoping you would calm down. And you did.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

On your way home that afternoon, you picked up your prescription – not thrilled at all. You knew that Alexia wanted what was best for you, but you felt so betrayed that she just went to the therapist, without even asking you first. Even though you knew that talking to you, probably wouldn’t have changed anything, and your Captain knew that as well.

As the pharmacist described, you took the first pill that evening, falling into a deep slumber.

Fuck.

You were late.

The Lorazepam had knocked you out so much, that you slept well past your usual alarm. The ‘3 missed calls by Jonatan Giraldez’ didn’t calm you down either.

As fast as humanly possible you got up, got ready and already dressed in the training kit so you wouldn’t have to change. Luckily your apartment wasn’t too far away and ten minutes later you were already at the training facility.

Storming onto the pitch and straight into Jonatan. “I’m so sorry I overslept! It’s the Lorazepam!” In your time in Barca, you had picked up quite a bit of Spanish, learning much faster than Lucy and Keira – much to your enjoyment.

You expected to be shouted at, even though you had never seen Jonatan really angry. But he just smiled, nodded, and sent you to Alexia, who was the only one without a training partner.

What a coincidence.

The Spaniard gave you a warm smile, desperately hoping that she was in your good graces again. When met with a cold, hard face, she knew she wasn’t. Most of the drills were spent in silence, and during water break, you were off with Claudia and Parti who were teasing you about your punctuality.

“I thought Germans were supposed to be on time!” Claudia couldn’t even respond to her best friend, too busy laughing her ass off.

Strong arms pulled you in a headlock, away from the young players. “Luce! Let the poor girl go!” And just like that you were in complete control of your body again, Lucy listening to Keira like a well-trained dog.

“Are you okay tiny?”

Tiny. You hated that nickname – it didn’t even matter of old or tall you were, to Keira and Lucy, you were just tiny… “Yeah – I’m fine!”

Both of them knew that you weren’t really fine, but the training continued and Alexia was back at your side. It was silent for a few minutes, the blonde continuously opening and closing her mouth. “Just say it, Ale.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted what was best for you, I should have talked to you.” Both of you were continuing with your tasks, facing straight forward, but the Spaniards' eyes kept glancing towards you.

“It’s fine. You were right. I probably wouldn’t have done anything about it.”

“So you like me again Amore?” a mischievous smile on her face, as she tripped you.

“I never stopped Ale, but I am seriously reconsidering it now!”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The next couple of weeks were hard – The Lorazepam still hit you hard at the end of the day and you frequently woke up later than planned, but never too late.

Your ever caring team-mates built a schedule around you. Every morning one of them would pick you up – she would be there a little bit earlier than needed, get you up, wait for you to get ready, and then you would go to training together.

Your anxiety had gotten better, so it wasn’t all for nothing, you were actually seeing results, and the side effects were manageable.

Your club-mates still liked to wind you up (‘sleepy’ now being your official nickname) about your sleepiness but it turns out that they underestimated just how tired you constantly were.

It was one of the last practice days before your Champions League finale against Wolfsburg – after the hard training session, you always did a little bit of yoga together, trying to get the body to relax.

“Now we bring our body up to our knees again.” The instructor did the exercise, and effortlessly pushed himself up from his lying position.

So did everyone else – except for you.

With your head flat on your yoga mat, and your back bending uncomfortably, you had fallen asleep.

“Oi! Sleepy is cheating!” It was Mapi who had spotted you and wanted to be funny, but when you didn’t move when everyone laughed, she caved. A soft jacket was now draped over you, trying to keep you a little warm.

Most of the team left when they were done, aside from Ale, who was scheduled to you on that day. But instead of waking you up, the blonde sat down next to you and stroked your hair, in a soothing matter.

“Sleep well bebé.”

Just a few days later it finally happened. Barca won the Champions League!

And you weren’t just there, you assisted Patri’s first goal. The young Spaniard had run towards you in celebration “Yes sleepy! And again!”

And while it wasn’t you who assisted her on her second goal, she got it. Frido was the one getting us our win, shooting the three to two.

It was hard seeing your former clubmates but they were happy for you, especially Lena and Jule.

Having anxiety still sucked, but with the help of your friends who were really more of a family, your fans, and the game that you loved so much you made it, and it was worth it.

Maybe being sleepy wasn’t so bad after all…

#barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader

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bellewintersroe · 8 months

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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

Part 2 - here is the LINK to the first part! Leni has to act dumb to everything Max has told her when they’re in Monza where Kelly is. She witnesses a somewhat awkward interaction and Max gets suspicious when Leni is close with Carlos.

Warnings: mentions of arguments, probs some swearing, jealousy and impure thoughts. A little naughty thing happens between Leni and Max, but nothing major.

A couple days later we were all back together in Monza for the following Grand Prix. It was more than a success for Red Bull, with Checo taking second and Max taking yet another win. Red Bull now had 10 consecutive wins a row. It was party central around the grid, plus Sainz had bagged 3rd place which he truly deserved, he fought off the RB’s like a mad man for a good 15 laps. After his birthday yesterday, I congratulated him with a massive hug.

“You really deserved that, well done.” I hugged the Spanish man. I’d met Carlos years ago when he signed with Red Bull back in 2010.(I fancied him). Now he just felt like my older brother. Okay maybe that was a weird thing to say.

“Thank you, miss Leni. I missed you.” He gave me a tight squeeze back as I smiled adoringly towards Carlos. “I miss you Carlos, I hope Ferrari are treating you better than before the summer break.” I half joked.

“Yeah, me too.” His eyes widened. “Will you be out tonight?” Carlos then questioned. “Probably, I think we’ll be at the same place, -are you celebrating your birthday too?” “Of course.” He smirked. “I’ll come over and say hi. Get you a couple birthday shots!” I nodded as the older man laughed. “Drinking competition.”

“Are you trying to kill me? I’ll see you tonight, Carlos.” “Yes, let me know when you are in there. I think somebody wants to speak to you.” Carlos nodded behind me as my brows furrowed slightly as I spun around, hand sliding off Carlos’ arm. Max was lingering, a huge smile plastered across his face as he attempted to bite it back, nodding towards Carlos. My heart fluttered pathetically as I laughed out of pure ecstasy.

“Max!” The two of us embraced tightly as he lifted me up. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you.” I felt the breath of his laughter against my bare shoulder as he gently eased me back to the ground.

“Thank you, thank you. I’m so happy.” He modestly spoke, cheeks flustered from his excitement. The whole morning I had to act sheepishly around him and Kelly, purely because of what he told me when he was drunk. For a second of seeing him, I forgot what I felt awkward about. But when his hand lingered on my upper back, I felt the exact same itch of guilt that had pestered me all day.

“Good, you should be. You’ll be celebrating tonight, right?”

“Maybe, maybe.” He shrugged, hand slipping off as I crossed my hands over my chest. “Maybe? Max you’ve literally beaten a world record, you can’t not!” I nagged, pulling on his arm dramatically.

He smirked sheepishly, laughing to himself as we began walking back to the Red Bull garage. “Carlos is going out!” I spoke, as though that would sway him. “I’m sure Checo is too!” “Go party with Carlos.” Max shrugged nudging my arm. “Huh?” I asked loudly. “Huh?” He mimicked as I scoffed out a laugh. “I thought you… you know- I mean now you’re single-” “Ew, what’re you trying to say?”

“Yes, what are you trying to say, Max?” Another female voice interrupted and I tilted my head up, stomach sinking to see Kelly. “Hi Kelly!” I politely smiled. “Hey.” She smiled back. It was about as far as our friendship ever got, I always made an effort with her, but she was quiet in general, maybe the 13 year age difference between us was a bit too extreme. I was just being a hater.

“Well I thought now Leni is single she might have been… interested in Carlos.”

“Oh.” Kelly’s face relaxed as I felt my frown grow harder. “Carlos? He’s known me since I was like 9!” I grimaced towards Max, feeling Kelly staring right back to her boyfriend. Max shifted uncomfortably. I felt uncomfortable- god he needed to just tell the woman what he was feeling.

“Oops.” Max shrugged as we shared another laugh. Kelly on the other hand, didn’t seem amused. “No hug for me, Max?” She sassed as I felt my stomach churn in guilt. Max’s mouth opened to respond and I wanted to yell out, hug her you fool.

“I’m gonna go, see you both later.” I awkwardly excused myself, wanting to literally throw myself off a cliff. A shudder ran down my spine, cringing at the whole interaction. This whole crush on Max had to stop, how the hell could I limit interaction between us without it looking so obvious?

Limiting interaction is what I tried to do. I kept my distance from Max the whole evening, opting to chat with Checo rather than be around where he and Kelly bickered. It wasn’t anything new the arguments, my dad often said it was Max’s number 1 distraction. Knowing what I now knew, I agreed. I just had to keep my head down and act like whatever they were arguing about wasn’t loud enough that you could hear Kelly over the music.

Minutes later she stormed out, tipping a few drinks off the table in the process. Max groaned into his hands, luckily, Hannah, the strategist, reassured Max she was leaving anyway and she’d fix it. I kinda felt bad for him, he’d just won yet another world title and this had to happen tonight. He looked a little sad, the minute my heart churned I turned my attention elsewhere. I hated the way I wanted to go and speak to him, it wasn’t right. Max needed to end the torment Kelly was probably feeling and sort out their god damn mortgage issue.

Desperate to avoid any form of drama, I escaped to go spend some time with Carlos and the Ferrari team for a while. I looked like a little backstabber, playfully sticking my fingers up at people from RB. I’d fully danced my feet off, and I was exhausted from all the day drinking combined with the heat at Monza.

After saying bye to a bunch of people, I slipped outside, bagging a cigarette off somebody as I stumbled to an empty table, booking an Uber.

“12 minutes? Ugh.” I muttered to myself, quite literally desperate to throw myself in bed. My ankles were desperately hurting where I’d grown uneasy in my heels, and it was beginning to radiate up to my shins. I lit the cigarette and began puffing on the stick that I normally wouldn’t smoke sober.

“I didn’t know you smoke?” My heart skipped a beat as I dropped the freshly lit cigarette into a puddle next to the chair. “I don’t anymore.” I cleared my throat, glancing up to Max quickly. Where had he come from?

“Don’t tell Geri or my dad.” I commented as he let out a soft chuckle. “I won’t.”

“Thanks… what’re you doing out here?”

“Leaving.” He shrugged, sitting across from me. “Oh, me too. You can get in my Uber if you want.” I offered.

“Yeah please, I’ll pay. I gotta go and… find Kelly.” He awkwardly spoke as I glimpsed away at the mention of her name.

“No, you don’t have to pay.” I ignored the last part of his sentence, shaking my head firmly. “I do.” Max firmed. “I don’t mind Max, he’s 10 minutes away, anyway.” I looked back down to my phone as he nodded. “I’ll split share.” He offered, reaching over to tap my phone onto his contact to share the cost. “Okay.” I shyly spoke watching him slide my phone back to me.

“You ok?” He then questioned as I glimpsed back up. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, running his hand through his slightly messy hair. He had stubble growing in areas that made him look extra manly, and I had to pinch my bare thigh to focus on what he was saying.

“Not exactly the best night.” Max awkwardly chuckled as I began picking at the wood on the table, thinking carefully about my words for a good few seconds. “You should tell her, Max.” I boldly said. I felt him shift uncomfortably, when I looked up he was too staring at the table. I assumed he knew what I was talking about. “I know.” He chewed on the inside of his cheeks.

“I didn’t think you’d remember..” he then added on as I let out an awkward laugh. “I didn’t think you would. You’re rich enough, just pay off the mortgage and then that’s out of the way.” “I was talking to my accountant about it.” He rubbed his face. “That’s why she was upset.”

“Oh.” I commented, my eyes roaming around any part of the smoking area, as long as I didn’t make eye contact with him, it was fine.

“Yeah.” Awkward, my teeth sunk into my bottom lip, probably taking off half the lipgloss I’d just applied. “Awkward.” I blurted out, earning a laugh from Max as we caught each others eyes again.

“You don’t have a filter do you?” I felt my cheeks warm desperately as I tried not to smile. “I mean- just not after a few drinks.”

“It’s funny, Leni.” He giggled as I took a sharp breath, “it gets me in trouble sometimes.” I shrugged. We made small talk back and fourth for the next ten minutes before climbing in the Uber together, it was safe to say neither of us was as drunk as we were that night on the beach, we actually had some restraint about us.

“I forgot to take my brother to his tutor today!” I spoke up, turning to face him. Max’s head was rested back, lolling to look at me with a soft gaze.

“How? Why does he have a tutor on a Sunday?” He spluttered out a laugh.

“You tell me. My dad was speaking to me and I forgot to listen- took Monty up to the paddock, he knocked himself out on Gelato, the same way I did the free champagne, and I just… forgot.” “Oh, Leni.” Max laughed, reaching over to slightly touch my hand through his amusement. I spared a quick glance down to his hand, it was inching closer to my own, nudging against it with every bump of movement in the car.

“It was stupid.” I muttered on a sharp intake of breath. Max looked back to me, smiling, I shyly caught his eye, feeling his fingers graze over mine to hold onto my hand. He was smiling, glancing down to our hands and I couldn’t process the butterflies he gave me. The way my heart set off racing, how I felt like I couldn’t speak. What on earth was happening right now?

What followed was a terrible guilt. “Max.” I exhaled, softly parting out hands. I didn’t know what that was, or how it happened so quickly, of course it wasn’t a kiss, but the movement made me truly question if Max and I were actually just friends? Max straightened in his seat, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. I trapped both my hands between my knees. I didn’t quite know what to say, I glanced out of the window, pursing my lips slightly. “You need to tell her.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #Max Verstappen angst #f1 x reader

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Dolores del Río (Flying Down to Rio, Flor silvestre)—to begin with, dolores is so RADIANTLY BEAUTIFUL, even more so in action then in images, its like she emits a literal glow. marlene dietrich (a close friend and rumored lover) considered her "the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in hollywood". she was the first mexican actress to become a major success in hollywood, rising to fame in the silent era and becoming an influential icon of beauty and glamor in the art deco age, though she was not thrilled with the exoticizing parts often pushed on her. in the mid 1940s having tired of the controlling hollywood studio system she returned to mexico, saying "I wish to choose my own stories, my own director and cameraman. I can accomplish this better in mexico", and proceeded to become a pivotal figure in the golden age of mexican cinema, making a string of masterpieces with directir emilio fernández and cinematographer gabriel figueroa. i love this anecdote about the insane art deco mansion she and her then-husband cedric gibbons lived in in the 30s, as related by david niven: "Dolores had a large sunny room on the first floor containing a huge and inviting bed. Gibbons lived in comparative squalor in a small room immediately below. The only connection between these rooms was by way of a stepladder, which could be lowered only when a trapdoor in the floor of Dolores room had been raised. There was a long stick with which, we conjectured, he signaled his intention or hopes by rapping out signals on the floor of his wife’s bedchamber." heres a pinterest album with a billion hot pictures of her

Fay Wray (King Kong)— the original scream queen!! she started acting in silent comedies as a teenager and got her first big break when erich von stroheim cast her as the lead in the wedding march. her career started to take off starring in silent movies at paramount, and she survived the transition to sound smoothly - josef von sternberg’s weird proto-noir thunderbolt was one of her first sound films. she began to make horror movies in the early 1930s, such as doctor x and mystery of the wax museum, both filmed in beautiful two-strip technicolor (which looked like this if you're curious. i just think it's neat!), as well as the vampire bat, the most dangerous game, and of course the boy himself, king kong. a little on how she worked with her most famous costar: “Although Kong appeared huge, the full figure was a model covered with rabbit hair, standing only 18 inches tall, that was filmed one frame at a time by stop-motion photography artist Willis O'Brien and his crew. The 5ft 3in Wray only knew one part of the ape's body when she was grasped in an articulated 8ft long hand. Hence the title of her 1989 autobiography, On The Other Hand. ‘I would stand on the floor,’ she recalled, ‘and they would bring this arm down and cinch it around my waist, then pull me up in the air. Every time I moved, one of the fingers would loosen, so it would look like I was trying to get away. Actually, I was trying not to slip through his hand.’” (link)

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dolores del Rio:

There's so much! She started in Silent films and successfully transitioned to sound, She is the first woman to wear a two piece swimsuit on screen & popularized the bikini!, She transitioned back to Mexican Cinema in the late 1940s and was a leading lady of the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema including staring in Maria Candelaria--the first Mexican film to win the palm d'Or at Cannes. She was literally studied for her beauty & was considered a beauty ideal in both the USA & Mexico--there's a whole section on her Wikipedia page about how beautiful everyone thinks she was. She never actually had a feud with any of the female stars she was rumored to feud with despite the fact that press & Hollywood culture attempted to pain them in competition... She remained a leader in Mexican theater & Cinema through her own production company. Mexican painter Diego Rivera: "The most beautiful, the most gorgeous of the west, east, north and south. I'm in love with her as 40 million Mexicans and 120 million Americans who can't be wrong" (quote source: Wikipedia)

*fan self* Leading actress in silents and early Hollywood. Lover of Orson Welles until she got fed up with him, friend of Diego Rivera and Frieda Kahlo. When she got tired of Hollywood executives typecasting her as a stereotypical spitfire (and trying to force her to feud with Lupe Velez as a publicity stunt), she ditched Hollywood and became a major star of Mexican cinema, where she got to play rounded characters

Had a career in American cinema in the 20s and 30s and considered one of the most important figures in the Golden Age of Mexican cinema (30s to 50s).

Marlene Dietrich said Dolores was the most beautiful woman to set foot in Hollywood

Joan Crawford: "Dolores became, and remains, as one of the most beautiful stars in the world."

One of the few Latin American women working in the Hollywood industry to make it big not just in hre home country but internationally. In 1931, Photoplay magazine declared that Mexican film actress Dolores del Rio had the "best figure in Hollywood." (which I know not necessarily a good barometer) but! it shows that many people looked at her for her beauty and sought to emulate her. Famous for her years-long love affair with actor and director Orson Welles, who was 10 years her junior if that's anything.

We need more hispanic representation in this!! Del Río is one of the most important actresses of her time as she was one of the first Mexican movie stars to break through to Hollywood! She’s unbelievably sexy and an absolute icon. Thank you :)

Fay Wray:

Actress prominently known for starring in horror, she was one of cinema's original "scream queens". She knocks it out of the park whenever she's with the horror genre, bringing a depth and likability to characters that would other be flat and boring characters.

An early scream queen, name me another woman who could look so beautiful while so disheveled and scared for her life

She was name-dropped not once but TWICE in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She's arguably the original Scream Queen.

#fay wray #dolores del río #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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generalllimaginesss · 5 months

Note

"Who are you again?" with Nico. I have this thought that he wants to talk to her at a bar and gets nervous and is cocky when he approaches her. And obviously she knows who he is because his face is plastered all over the city. But she can’t stand when men are arrogant so she pretends not to know him and sends him back to his table. Then maybe he sees her at a coffee shop a few days later and he approaches her there too but in a more chill way. And she continues the “who are you again” joke but actually has a conversation with him.

Just like fluffy Nico being awkward and kind of being awful but only bc he’s nervous around the pretty girl.

Honestly I feel like Nico would be the most precious boyfriend ever. Whoever gets him wins in life. But anyways….here ya go! I kind of went a slightly different route with Nico not being very nervous, but I feel like this flows ok. Thank you for requesting! Keep them coming!

••

The bar that you were currently in was loud and slightly obnoxious. Because it was later in the night, the crowd was more rowdy than you cared for, causing you to become irritable with everything.

So here you were, sitting with a friend of yours at a table in the corner, trying to avoid people at all costs, when a group of guys walk through the door, some laughing, some heading to the bar, but one in particular caught your eye.

He was tall, had brown hair that was a little messy, but his smile was hard to miss. It lit up the whole room, a refresher from the scene that had been playing before his presence.

"Is that who I think it is?" Your friend elbowed you, pointing to where the guy was propping himself up against the wall talking to somebody.

As you sat there looking at him longer, trying to place his face, the realization that the guy is Nico Hischier hits you. He's practically the face of hockey in New Jersey, how could you miss that?

You watch as somebody hands him a beer and he takes a sip, his head tipping back slightly and his eyes beginning to take in the people around him. A couple of girls ask to take pictures with him, so he obliges. Some guys go over and talk to him about the game that night, but nothing really caught his attention until he glanced around the room and saw you sitting at a corner table, already looking at him.

Immediately, you break the eye contact, hoping that maybe he wasn't actually looking at you, but he pushes off of the wall and begins to walk in your direction.

"Holy shit he's coming over here," Your friend squeals, adjusting her hair so that she looks presentable.

"Shut up," You hiss, not wanting to seem like a crazy fangirl.

Nico gets intercepted by a guy with a Devils jersey on asking for a picture, but he immediately comes to your table afterwards, pulling a chair out and taking a seat.

Something about how he didn't ask if he could sit with you hit you wrong. Sure, he was famous and good looking, but that didn't mean that he got to do whatever he wanted.

You shifted your weight in your chair, eyebrows knitting together trying to figure the guy out.

"I saw you looking at me over there," Nico nodded his head to the spot where he was at earlier.

"And what about it?" You deadpan, your friend glancing between the two of you.

"I thought you would be interested, but apparently I thought wrong," Nico chuckled, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself out of the chair to walk off. He took a few steps and stopped, turning towards you once more.

"I'm sorry..." He chuckled, running his fingers through his locks that hung just above his eyes, "...you now who I am, right?"

And that was the icing on the cake for you. You don't typically judge a person by the first couple of things they say to you, but he was so unbearably arrogant that it made your skin crawl. He might have been the captain of a successful NHL team, but the fact that he expected you to know who he was was gross. He was a human. He wasn't some god that graced you with his presence like he thought he was apparently.

"Hm, no I don't think so. Who are you again?" You chuckled, but it held zero emotion behind it. The audacity of this guy completely baffled you.

Nico bit his lip, realizing that he somehow struck a nerve within you. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed-" He started, but was cut off by your harsh tone, "Well you know what they say about assuming? It makes an ass out of you."

You collected your purse and your friend as you left a dumbfounded Nico behind at the table, scratching his neck trying to figure out what just happened.

"What was that about?" Your friend nudged you as you made your way out of the bar and down the street.

"He acted like a pretentious bitch, that's what," Pulling your coat tighter around you, you arranged for an uber to pick you and your friend up and take you home, deciding that it was time to call it a night.

-----

A few weeks passed after the encounter with Nico at the bar. It never really crossed your mind much, other than the fact that you roll your eyes every time he was shown during a game that you watched. The whole ordeal just really disappointed you because he was very attractive and seemed to be sweet in all of his interviews and moments with his team, but actions speak louder than words and his actions at the bar were loud and clear.

You were currently walking into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was near your apartment, preparing to have an intense study session since finals were approaching soon. The cozy ambience felt warm and welcoming, the perfect combination for you.

As you were beginning to zone in on the material before you, the bell from the door sounded, signaling a new person in the shop. Out of habit, you glance up and notice a familiar person making his way to the counter. He didn't seem to notice you at first, so you debated on gathering your stuff and leaving. However, nobody was going to have that kind of hold on you. If you wanted to study in this coffee shop, then that is what was going to happen. Even if there was a douche hockey guy.

You watched as he ordered and gave the barista his card to pay. Since he still hadn't seen you, you decided to shift your attention back to your notes, seeing that's the whole reason you were here.

You thought you got off without having to interact with him, but quickly realized that was not the case when the sound of somebody clearing their throat near you interrupted you studying.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" He flashed an innocent smile, watching as your cheeks heated, much to your displeasure.

"Seems to be," Your answer was short and to the point, hoping he'd get the hint that you were busy.

"Um, is this seat taken?" He motioned toward the seat across the table from you. Maybe he learned his lesson from last time?

"Nope," You moved your bag out of the seat so that he could sit there.

There was a few moments of awkward silence before Nico decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry about the other night. My name is Nico," His outstretched hand hovered above the table, waiting for yours to meet it.

You could have been rude and just ignored him, but there was something about the way that his little dimple indented and the softness of his eyes. He was just a beautiful person.

"Who?" You joked, causing Nico to laugh, his whole body shaking with him.

"I'm teasing, it's nice to formally meet you," Your hand connected with his and you could have swore there were butterflies going rampant in your belly.

"The other night...I don't want to make an excuse for being an ass, but it was right after a win and I still had an adrenaline rush, the boys were around, and I honestly didn't realize how rude it was until I was trying to go to sleep that night. I don't want you to think that the fame went to my head or anything. That couldn't be far from the truth," He fidgeted with the rubber bracelet that decorated his hand, making eye contact with you a few times.

"Hey, we all have our moments. You happened to catch me out of my element. Bars are not quite my scene," You giggled, recalling the nightmare that was the bar that night.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you the other night, ha, but you're beautiful. Like wow," He sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee as he grinned at you trying to control your blush.

"Why thank you," Your laugh caused a train reaction from him.

The two of you talked about so many different things. The topic of how he got into hockey came up, and then what brought you into the bar that night, the conversation just flowing effortlessly. There was never another an awkward moment after that initial one.

Before either of you knew it, 2 hours had passed. Although you should have been studying, the time spent with Nico was nice, something that you could get used to.

"I've really enjoyed this," Nico nudged your leg with his, causing tingles to erupt from the spot where he touched you.

"Me too. You definitely made up for what happened at the bar," You winked, causing him to chuckle in response.

"The team has a Christmas party coming up and I happen to be dateless right now," A cheeky grin formed as he began to gain the courage to ask you on a date.

"Well that's quite the predicament, isn't it?" You knew where he was going with it, but you decided to play along with him.

"Yeah, it is. You wouldn't know how to fix that, would you?" He licked his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

"I mean, there's dating apps, fangirls, I'm sure you can find somebody who would love to go with you," Smirking, you finished the last bit of your coffee that was now cold.

"There's also girls that you meet in bars who happen to go to the same coffee shop as you..." Nico trailed off as he watched your response.

"Mr. Hischier, are you asking me to be your date?" You feigned shock, covering your mouth with your hand in attempt to hide your smile.

"Wait, who are you again?" His eyes squinted mischeviously as you rolled your eyes and handed him your phone so that he could put his phone number in.

"I would love to be your date," He punched in his number and felt his phone vibrate in his pocking, signaling that you had texted his phone.

"I've got to go study for my final, so I will see you later," You announced as the two of you gathered your things and walked out together.

Nico gave you a tight side hug, one that was unexpected, but definitely wanted. His cologne was magical and he was just cozy. You walked towards your apartment, a smile etched onto your face as you immediately recall the whole conversation.

Nico glanced at his phone as he headed to his car, deciding to read the text that you had sent him:

"You're pretty cute yourself. Like wow," It read and Nico couldn't help but giggle and smile as he climbed into the driver's side of his car, shaking his head and thanking God that he was able to impress you this time.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nj devils #new jersey devils

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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months

Note

hi ^^ can i request how arcane milfs + vi will act when they have a crush on a fem reader ?? maybe how they court her and try to win her attention it would be so cute !!

love your work so much ! hope you’re having a great day, take care 💕

Arcane milfs + Vi when they have a crush on you

I'll say this again and again, GRAYSON is a gentlewoman. She knows how to flirt while being extremely polite and flattering so she will gain your attention in no time. She will invite you for a fancy dinner and be an absolute delight. She will compliment your choice of clothing, pull out your chair for you, lightly hold your hand on the table and utter sweet praises by the soft glow of candle light. While the two of you are still in the courting phase, Grayson will send flowers to your apartment or your workplace which will have a sweet message attached to them. She is a bit old-fashioned and likes to formally ask you to be her partner after several successful dates and outings. She is over the moon when you return her feelings and cups your face while looking deep into your eyes and mutters out a gentle ''May I?'' before she kisses you once you give her an eager nod.

At first, SEVIKA struggles a bit when thinking of ways to approach you. She can't remember the last time she was romantically interested in someone let alone tried to ask them out. At first, she'll try to get your attention by having drinks sent your way whenever she spots you sitting at the bar of the Last Drop. Almost dies after you turn around towards her and give her a shy wave and an appreciative smile. In order to get some alone time with you, she rents a separate booth so the two of you can get to know each other in peace. You cannot deny that she is an incredibly charming and attractive woman so you start falling for her quickly. Sevika isn't any better as she is smitten by your lovely laugh and pretty face, she tries so hard to listen to you but is distracted by your cute gestures half of the time. Eventually, she gathers up the courage to formally ask you out on a date and grins like she won the lottery once you agree. It'll take her a while to get a hang of the whole relationship thing but you think it's adorable how hard she tries to win you over.

Prepare to be spoiled rotten, because the first tactic CASSANDRA has for gaining your attention is by showering you with gifts. Whether she gives them to you in person or sends them to you, you cannot help but always marvel at their quality and the thoughtfulness behind them. Prefers giving them to you in person as she greedily soaks up every little reaction you give her. Also takes you to lavish dinners and galas, making sure you are dressed in the most flattering and breath-taking clothing. She is also very sweet and polite towards you, she likes treating you like a lady and receiving the same treatment in return. Also invites you to her house and plans a lovely, relaxing evening for the two of you. After you finish the lovely dinner she had prepared for you, the two of you unwind on her expensive couch, sipping wine and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. She takes this opportunity to admit her feelings for you, telling you how much she admires you and how she'd love to have you as her partner, if you're willing. When you agree, she gently hugs you and presses a kiss to your forehead while telling you how happy you make her. Hearing her rushed heartbeat right next to your ear makes you think there's no other place you'd rather be at than in her loving arms.

VI is a great flirt until she's given a taste of her own medicine. She will give you silly nicknames, initiate physical touch and always be near you, but her brain stops working when you return all those gestures and it's so endearing. She will give you tours around the Undercity, showing you its hidden gems and taking you to the most beautiful places. Takes advantage of your focus on the amazing views she shows you in order to admire your features and gaze at your reactions. She will also bring you pretty trinkets and pastries she steals from Piltover. Seeing the way your face lights up whenever she runs into you makes her heartbeat accelerate. Vi is also very protective and practically your guard dog, always standing by your side and making sure no one even looks at you wrong. She will always walk you home and lend you her jacket if you're cold. When she formally asks you to date her, she is so nervous and fumbles over her words constantly. But once she manages to get them out and you say yes, she picks you up and twirls you around, laughing happily. Once your feet find themselves on the ground, Vi kisses you and you can feel her lovesick smile on your lips and think to yourself how wonderful it would be if this moment would last forever.

#arcane #arcane headcanons #arcane x reader #arcane grayson #grayson x reader #arcane grayson x reader #arcane sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane cassandra #cassandra kiramman x reader #cassandra kiramman #arcane vi #vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #vi x you

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

Text

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON) - CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE

“IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME, AND SEEING THE SHAPE OF YOUR NAME STILL SPELLS OUT PAIN.”

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol consumption, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.1K+

☆ A/N: this will make a whole lot more sense if you've already read the one shot that this entire series is based upon! and thank you to @fracturedarkness and @munson-blurbs for beta-reading <3

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

It had taken nearly two hours, and even as the aerial platform is finally lowered from scaling the side of the building, there are still remnants of the graffiti paint scattered across the crumbling brick.

You’d watched the workers scrub at the rusted shades for ages, ignoring the new emails beginning to pile up in your inbox on the screen, only to be left completely dissatisfied. You hadn’t really thought the graffiti was ugly so to speak – it was just there. It was blatant and something that demanded to be seen, a stain on that stretch of wall that made up your desk’s entire viewpoint each and every day. And it wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t pretty.

You’d even been a little excited when you saw the cleaning crew. A little hopeful.

But the hope had been wasted, as it always was, as you watch the crew give up the battle and the paint win the war. Go figure. Another day and another stain that can’t be erased.

“You know, I’ve heard of dreadfully boring people watching paint dry, but never seen someone look so enticed by paint being removed.”

You look up quickly from where your dead stare had zeroed in, a chipping splash of vibrant scarlet that hardly stood out against tired and faded red-turned-pink bricks, to face your coworker.

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan, spinning your office chair so your entire body now faced her, “Have you ever considered a career change, Romina? Maybe you’re better off a comedian rather than an event planner.”

Romina, your coworker, only smiles brightly at the monotone joke. She holds a mug of coffee in her hand as she rests her hip against the edge of your desk, lips pursed as she takes a slow sip from her steaming cup. The sharp, bitter scent of the coffee wafts across the space before she lowers the mug right onto your desk – completely disregarding the coaster available.

Sure to leave behind a stain; a ring of light brown on your pristine desk. You can’t help but cringe.

“Apparently they sent out an email about that new secretive project,” Romina continues on without addressing your sarcasm, “Said whoever’s got the account has been notified.”

“Awesome.”

“I didn’t get an email.”

“I’m sorry?”

Romina sighs, realizing you weren’t going to take the bait. “Have you received an email?”

You shrug in a silent succession of, probably not.

Your pessimism keeps your hand from reaching out and wiggling your mouse as an attempt to wake your desktop computer back up. You highly doubt you were the one to be elected for this new project that had the entire office buzzing. You’d only been working here for a little over a year, hardly earning any attention with the small weddings and local business grand openings you had taken on during that time.

And that was fine.

You were fine flying under the radar for the time being. It’s not that you weren’t good at your job — you were excellent at it, even — but whatever this top secret project was was the farthest thing from your expertise.

You didn’t do secretive projects. You did simple. You did small. The exact opposite of what you’d heard about this elusive opportunity.

“Have you even checked?” Romina presses, leaning down and tapping your space bar herself, making the screen come to life before you could protest, “C’mon, babe! Aren’t you at least a little bit curious?”

Another honest shrug. “Truthfully? Not at all.”

She makes no move to grab her coffee cup as she pushes herself off your desk, standing over the screen now with intent and focus. All you can really think about is that damn faded ring that’s going to be left behind.

You really wish she would have used the coaster.

The login screen stops her in her mission, making her take a step back and wave you forward, pointing excitedly at your keyboard, “You know, I heard it might have something to do with a very popular band. One rumored to be dropping an album soon. Possibly the album release party. Doesn’t that sound dreamy?”

Your stomach drops.

Romina is all wistful sighs and dreamy eyes as she says it, still pushing that keyboard closer to you as she looks out the window you had been before her arrival. It’s clear she’s looking right past that stained wall. She probably doesn’t even notice the evidence of graffiti that was left behind. The marks are lost on her eyes; but she hadn’t spent hours waiting for it to all be cleaned away, to be fair. No, it’s clear the only thing on her mind is this popular band.

And you know which band it is. It’s not just the prospect of a larger project that has kept you out of this rumor mill — it’s the prospect of the client.

Everyone knew you didn’t care for the band. Or at least, you said you didn’t care for the band.

Nearly a year ago, several coworkers had invited you to a sold out show. They had an extra ticket, and had so kindly extended it to you. A flag of friendship billowing in the wind, outstretched to you in such a welcoming manner. And you’d shot them down — you’d lied, and you’d said you had plans before you’d spent the entire night throwing your own personal pity party.

“I don’t think I’d be the first choice for an album release party, Ro,” you murmur as you finally tug your chair in closer to your desk. You ignore the knots forming in your stomach, that heavy weight that presses into your chest. There was no way you’d be assigned the project. You’d simply log in, show Romina, and then maybe she’d leave you alone, “I usually just take on weddings. That’s my forte. Not arranging open bars and booking rooftops for some shitty band.”

Romina scoffs, “Some shitty band? I know you don’t like them, but Corroded Coffin is not just some shitty band.”

Corroded Coffin. The weight makes your ribs creak, makes your lungs ache.

You swear she’ll notice the way you freeze in your typing. The mere mention of them, of him, curls around your body and easily triggers your fight or flight response.

Well, fight or flight or freeze. A new option, a new and drifting cold, has made itself clear as ice keeps your knuckles from continuing to type in your password.

It’s funny. You used to fight for them, then you’d flown as far away from him as your pathetic diner wages could get you. Clearly, only moving across a city you once thought to be so vast wasn’t far enough. You could move across oceans, and something in your gut tells you his ghost would only be a few steps behind.

“You know, I still don’t get your issue with them, by the way. Are you just not big on rock music?” she asks, and you can imagine his offense and correction that it was metal, not just rock, “I get it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I don’t know. Just seems a little personal, the way you avoid them like the plague.”

It is personal.

Your vendetta is so, so very personal when it comes to Corroded Coffin.

When it comes to Eddie Munson.

His name echoing in your mind finally has your fingertips slamming keys again, suddenly eager to bring up your email and prove Romina wrong. To get her as far from your desk as possible and end this conversation before you can spiral.

“I’ve never been a fan of that type of music,” you lie through your teeth. You had been. You had been their goddamn number one fan once upon a time.

Your work email can’t load fast enough when she continues on, “I’d argue they have at least one song for everyone. You just gotta give them a chance.”

No, the voice in your head screams. I do not need to give them a chance. I gave him a chance, and he blew it.

“I’m sure there is,” you grit out, those knots in your stomach wound so tightly they might just snap, “But not for me.”

Never for me.

They don’t know. No one in your life now knew about your past, about your ex, about the truth between you and Corroded Coffin.

They didn’t know that you’d been their first fan, standing in that stuffy garage at the Emerson’s residency through the scalding Hawkins’ summers. They didn’t know how you’d spent every Tuesday and Thursday night occupying a stool at the Hideout that had all but your name engraved into it. They didn’t know the way you’d packed up your entire life, the way you’d only moved to this cursed concrete jungle to see all of their wildest dreams come true. They were unaware that Corroded Coffin had nearly turned down the tour that triggered their breakout for you. All because their leading rockstar hadn’t wanted to leave you behind.

Funny how life works out.

Romina is unaware of your discomfort as she leans down over your shoulder to peer at the list of new emails you’d received this morning, “Oh, oh! That one! Click that one!”

Her long, blood-red stiletto nail taps at the screen excitedly, pointing out an email from your boss with an eye catching subject line.

Meeting at Noon — New Project Assignment.

“Holy shit!” Ro exclaims, getting ahead of herself before you’ve even clicked on the email. You can’t click on it. You’re petrified. “Oh, holy shit! You definitely got the project! Are you fucking kidding me?”

For a moment, you’re silent, staring at the screen in buzzing shock. It rings in your ears and it blurs the edges of your vision, the weight of the possibility finally causing the first snap within your chest.

No. No, no, no.

You don’t want this project. Not the rumored client, and certainly not the attention that it has attracted from all your peers. No.

“We don’t even know if it’s going to be what everyone says it will be,” you choke out, white knuckling your mouse. Romina can’t see your face — she can’t see the year of practiced indifference crumbling so easily, “It- It probably won’t be Corroded Coffin, Ro. It can’t be. They wouldn’t assign me something so huge. Th-They probably just have another wedding for me. Maybe another bakery opening up in town — I think I heard about one on Third Street-“

Ro’s hands come down on your shoulders, giving what should be a reassuring squeeze, but it only smothers you during your breathless rant.

“Babe,” she emphasizes, “This is a good thing.”

It’s not. It’s really, really not.

But you don’t know if the project is what everyone has been murmuring about. You don’t know for sure that the email has anything to do with it. The contents of what your boss had written to you have little to no specifics; nothing more than a request to come to her office at noon to properly discuss the details of this assignment. So you convince yourself it’ll be fine, that it really is just about that bakery opening up on third street. You convince yourself to shake away any thoughts of chestnut curls and honey brown eyes. You convince yourself to untense your shoulders and smile up at your coworker, faking enough enthusiasm to satiate her until she’s walking away from your desk giddily, taking her coffee cup with her.

Your eyes avert to the expected coffee mark that had formed a perfect ring on your stark white desk.

Stained. What a pesky thing to become.

—

“I’m not going out tonight,” you repeat yourself for the millionth time over the line, pinching the phone between your shoulder and ear as you opened your fridge to dig around for whatever leftovers you might be able to salvage into a dinner for the night, “I don’t feel well.”

“But we need to hear about the new project!” Ro’s chirp comes over the line. You can hear the buzzing of a bar in the background. Glasses clinking, strangers chatting. Hell, you could probably pinpoint the song playing lowly if you focused hard enough.

You weren’t focusing on the call, though. It was the last thing you wanted to offer up your dwindling attention to, desperate to get off the line and resume your very exciting night of cold pasta with a side of whatever sitcom was running old episodes on the television.

The phone nearly slips from your half assed attempt to keep it against your cheek as you sigh, “It went fine. I already told you guys it did. Nothing exciting, okay? It was the bakery on Third that’s opening up, just like I thought it would be.”

A lie.

The meeting went anything but fine. Your boss, Lydia, has just been plain secretive. And normally, that wouldn’t bother you, but it meant your worst fears were coming true.

The bakery on third wouldn’t have needed such secrecy, and they sure as Hell wouldn’t have insisted on you signing an NDA prior to even meeting and discussing the event you’d be planning.

“It’s all just precautions,” Lydia had insisted as she slid that damn paperwork over to you, “Just to protect the client. They’re a bigger name than we’re used to dealing with. If you sign, we’ll have a proper meeting with them tomorrow and dig into all the nitty gritty.”

“You phrase it like I have a choice,” you had muttered before picking up the pen.

You knew you didn’t. And Lydia’s smile had confirmed it.

Romina continues on with more convincing, but you’ve stopped listening. There’s not a single thing she could really say now that your mind was made up — you were staying in tonight.

“Ro,” you finally snatch the phone back up into your hand, straightening out as you pick out a random tupperware that you think holds chicken parm from that fancy lunch date you’d gone on over the weekend, “I’m not coming out. I’m sorry.”

Complete silence on her end. You worry for a moment that you had been too harsh.

“Okay,” she finally gives up.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” the word continues to echo back and forth between you two, “That’s fine. I’ll just have to bother you about it tomorrow. At work. Where you can’t use bullshit excuses to escape me.”

You consider snapping back about how you absolutely still could, until you consider the fact that you have a real excuse, “Good luck with that. I have a very real meeting with… with a client.”

You don’t even know the name of the client, technically. You can only guess.

You still hope you’re wrong.

“Right,” she laughs over the line, “See you tomorrow, babe.”

“See you tomorrow,” you repeat back, staring at your now closed fridge before you’re relieved by the sound of a dial tone, signaling that she’s finally hung up.

What you should do now is plate the leftovers, arrange yourself on your sofa, and numb your mind with The Office reruns. What you should do is leave well enough alone and continue in your delusion.

You don’t.

It starts innocently; you do transfer the cold chicken parm onto a plate and you do curl up on your sofa before flicking on the television. You do set the channel to the reruns. You do – and you swear you do it all with the best intentions.

But then your mind wanders.

As you stare straight ahead at the television, you’re not processing a single image that flashes across the screen. Your thoughts are a bit preoccupied with different images, movies and snippets from a point in your life that now feels like a lifetime ago. Conspicuous dimples making an appearance from across the room at a joke you had made, unkempt curls flying recklessly in the driver’s seat beside you on late night drives with the windows down, wild eyes shining like sunlight through a whiskey bottle as he catches your gaze from a stage much smaller than what he must be used to now.

Everything from before. Before the not-fight, before the fame, before the move. Images of when Eddie had been yours and only yours, not yet a precious gem to have to share with the world.

“Are you busy tonight?”

Your locker had been slammed shut by a hand that didn’t belong to you, knuckles adorned with familiar rings and distinct callouses along the fingertips.

“Hello to you, too, Eddie,” you smiled as you clutched one of the unnecessarily heavy textbooks to your chest, turning to face the boy who stood impatiently at your side. He was all jitters, rocking on his heels and nearly incapable of standing still as his body buzzed with excitement.

It rolled off him in waves, contagious as he leaned into you, “Yes, yes. Hello, sweetheart. How was your day?” you opened your mouth to answer him, but Eddie comically steamrolled right on, hands waving erratically, “Good? Good! Excellent! Now, are you busy tonight?”

“I was planning to study for O’Donnel’s test-“

“So you don’t have plans!” he exclaimed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as one of the annoying warning bells chimed. He may have been in an interruptive mood, but he knew you hated being late to class — less about being anal about punctuality, and more about the stares you’d practically burn under from the attention of other students when you’d barge in on the teacher mid-sentence, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. In that case, I have fantastic news!”

You allowed him to guide you amongst the bustling student bodies, only gaining a few stares from fellow peers, “You do, do you?”

He nodded before he reached out and snatched that heavy textbook out of your arms, “Here, let me carry that for you, darling.”

“Darling?” your nose scrunched, “Oh, no. You’re trying to sweeten me up. What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

Liar. The crack in his voice would have given him away if his hyperactive energy hadn’t already done so.

“Oh, really? Then what’s your fantastic news, rockstar?”

His grin that broke at your nickname for him could have destroyed the Earth you walked on just as easily as it could have mended it. Something groundbreaking, something to churn the dirt and raise the dead. Something made of pure sunshine and static happiness. But the only thing that cracked was your chest as it tried to contain the residual joy it felt for him in that moment.

“Well…” he trailed off, leaving just enough room for a suspenseful pause that could have suffocated the room without that damn grin on his face, “Let’s just say you’re looking at the frontman of the Hideout’s newest Thursday night entertainment.”

You took a moment to catch on, Eddie keeping you pressed closely to his side as the two of you stopped outside of your next class.

“Thursday nights?” you questioned, brain working overtime to piece together what he’d just said, “Wait, I thought you guys only played Tuesda-“

When you had processed what he had meant, all that animated elation that had been consuming him became shared. Every jitter in his bones became your own, your own lips speedily spreading into a proud smile to challenge his own.

“Oh, holy shit,” you gasped, “You guys got the gig.”

One more bounce of his heels, curls quivering with the movement as his arms fell from you and the two of you faced one another.

“We got the gig.”

“You got the gig!”

People had been staring more obviously at the sudden rise in volume from you, but you hadn’t cared. Because in that moment, all you focused on was the eager boy in front of you, and the way your broken chest mended from the same grin that had burst it wide open, only for it to swell with inexplicable pride.

“We got the fuckin’ gig!” he shouted right back, laughter slipping from between his lips that started to echo your own.

You were the one bouncing then, hands instinctively reaching out to press on his shoulders in gentle slapping motions, unable to contain or conventionally express this pounding excitement.

“You got the fuckin’ gig!” you were just parroting each other now, but you were just as delirious as he was as that final bell signaling you were late rang out. That certain embarrassment you were sure to have to face had become a distant memory.

Eddie had wanted this for a while. He’d been bugging the owner of the bar on the edge of town about Corroded Coffin earning a second night of residency for months, only taking the repeated rejections as encouragement to ramp up his convincing charm. You’d seriously doubted it would work, but had never voiced the concern aloud to Eddie. You’d always figured that the worst that could have happened would be another no, fuck off, kid. But the best that could have happened had been this — he would be told yes and secure his band two weekly performances at the Hideout rather than just the single one they played before.

You didn’t know it then, but it was the first step down the path that would lead to inevitable heartbreak.

“I haven’t even told the guys yet,” Eddie admitted once the two of you calmed down to the best of your abilities, “I… Uh, I wanted to tell them after school today. Was wondering if you might, I don’t know, maybe- do you wanna be there when I do?”

And that made sense. Eddie inviting you made sense when you attended every single band practice in Gareth’s garage as religiously as he did. When you knew every word to their whole three original songs even better than him at times.

He wanted you there. You were important to him, to the band, and he wanted you there.

“I- Is that even a question?” you stared at him in disbelief, “Of course I wanna be there, you fuckin’ idiot. I can’t believe you told me before you told them, honestly.”

His demeanor softened, the ghost of his exuberance still stubbornly lingering. But your eyes were on him, glowing with such high regard that it was impossible to not let it creep beneath his skin and trigger a blush across the bridge of his nose. All that love, all that pride. So genuine it could have made him cry.

“Of course I told you first,” he whispered in a finally empty hallway, “You’re always the first person I tell any good news to, sweetheart.”

When had you stopped being the first person he shared his forthcomings with?

Probably the day you had decided to leave him, leave the entire life you two had built together, under the guise of best intentions.

The TV continues to play as you stare at the wall, mind and heart alike locked up with nostalgia. The plate of leftovers has long since been sat down on the coffee table.

You hadn’t let yourself reminisce like this since the very first night you had spent in your apartment. That first night, you’d allowed yourself to wallow. You had sat on this very same sofa, the entire apartment pitch black as you weren’t brave enough to turn on a single light and face yourself, and told yourself that any and all tears or regrets had to be purged that night. A funeral for all that you had lost, a single night to mourn all that you had left behind.

Clearly, one night was never enough to let go of years of memories – of love.

You don’t shut off the TV as you impulsively grab your phone, not thinking the action through before you do the one thing you had forbidden yourself from over the last few years; you’re going to Google search Eddie Munson. You’d created the rule as a make-believe step in the right direction. You told yourself if you didn’t google him, if you didn’t track down his every move after you’d left behind the damage done, then you could move on easier.

From the first headline, you realize that it might have never been about moving on.

FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN? HAS EDDIE MUNSON, LEAD SINGER OF CORRODED COFFIN, FINALLY GONE TOO FAR?

EDDIE MUNSON — ARRESTED AGAIN?

HOTEL COMES FORWARD ABOUT DAMAGES DONE BY ROWDY ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON

HOW TO BURY A CAREER: A DETAILED TIMELINE OF CORRODED COFFIN’S EDDIE MUNSON’S DOWNFALL

“EDDIE MUNSON GAVE ME A CONCUSSION” - VICTIMS OF THE ROCKSTAR’S CLUB TANTRUM COME FORWARD.

Each headline sends your head reeling, eyes widening impossibly without even clicking on the stories.

The boy you had known wouldn’t have done half of the things these accusations stated. Violence, trashing hotel rooms, public temper tantrums taken too far — it doesn’t feel as though you’re reading about someone you once knew, someone you once loved. The man in these paparazzi photos is a stranger, completely unrecognizable with his red eyes and middle fingers held high.

A particular photo catches your attention. He’s standing outside what you assume is a club, in handcuffs. His hands are locked behind his back, an officer not far behind and his face bathed in glows of blue and red lights flashing from a car half blocking the camera’s view of him, and he’s grinning with dead eyes squinted to the sky. It almost looks as if he’s midlaugh — as if the entire scene was funny to him.

The one time he’d nearly been caught while pedaling drugs for Reefer Rick back home in Hawkins when you’d still known him, he had nearly burst into tears. Had panicked as he scrambled to shove everything, even just the weed, into every possible hiding place within his van. He hadn’t laughed in the officer’s face; he had been petrified, face transforming to that of a terrified little boy as you had told him to calm down and play it cool.

You should stop scrolling. But you can’t.

Another photo, one that makes your chest echo with another hollow pang. It was clearly taken without him realizing it, the quality atrocious as the camera had attempted to focus in on him through a balcony sliding door of what must be a hotel. But despite the terrible blur, you can clearly pick out the details that were meant to be exposed.

A speckle of white coating the ring of his nostril. Made even more obvious by that midday sun shining in on him.

It was clearly the middle of the afternoon, and Eddie had clearly been caught snorting cocaine.

It’s a bit much. You haven’t even scrolled far enough to catch sight of all the pap photos of him with different women, or the photos of him clearly inebriated at major events that had been meant to celebrate him and the band’s success. You lock your phone, you set it down on the table with the screen facing down. You hardly recognize him.

The reality is you had never googled Eddie for the same reason most won’t look at the corpse of loved one’s at open casket funerals – you wanted to remember him when things had been good. You had wanted to convince yourself that you still knew him, some version of him, and that he hadn’t become a total stranger.

But, really, you’d known the moment you had walked out of that once shared apartment that you had lost the privilege of knowing him. Of loving him. The moment he had stopped telling you that he loved you, you had known something between the two of you had died. Losing Eddie hadn’t been a sudden thing — it had been a long, painful, torturous process. When all that love and all that promise had died, it hadn’t gone down without a fight. He had smothered it, but you had provided the extinguisher. You had pushed him to chase after his dreams, and you should have never been surprised when he did exactly that.

You should have never been surprised that one day, the space you’d claimed residency in in Eddie’s heart would become nothing more than an annoying prick to him. A thorn in his side, sharp and threatening all that he had worked so hard to achieve.

So you’d left. You’d left, told yourself it was for the best, and exited with more love for the memory of a man than the tangible person on the other end of that terribly lonely dial tone – on the rare occasions he did call.

You didn’t know him. It’s a truth you should have long since swallowed, but hadn’t. Not yet. Not in the last two years.

Your appetite is gone as you stand from the couch and grab the leftovers, only pausing on your way to the kitchen to scrape the waste off into the trash can. What a waste. As you put away the plate into the sink, not bothering to wash or even rinse away the crumbs, you immediately grab one of your few wine glasses and set it on the counter. Drinking wasn’t the wisest idea, but your body has begun to move on autopilot. And it seems convinced that feeling the buzz from alcohol would be better than the feeling of nothing at all.

You didn’t know him anymore. And the space you’d still let him occupy in your memories, whether you’d wanted to admit it or not, was now hollow.

You turn your back on the glass, still numb and still reeling as you open the fridge and pull out a half empty bottle of merlot, cork half peeking out the top of the bottle. You can see that stained bottom half, almost half hidden in a weak attempt to preserve the wine inside. Maroon. Deep, deep maroon bleeds up and feathers at the edges of that cork as you pull it out fairly aggressively, carelessly tossing it onto the white countertop and not watching it bounce as you pour yourself a drink.

In your hollow staring off into the distance, you don’t realize you’ve missed the glass in your pouring until the chilled liquid splashes at your knuckles – until it’s too late. You panic, grabbing at paper towels and rinsing off your hand in the same breath, but it’s clear that it’s a useless battle in cleaning up the mess you’ve made.

The damage is already done. As you soak up the wine and swipe away, a pink-tinged blotch is still left behind.

Stained. What a pesky thing to become.

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @conquerwhatliesahead92

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain

#maroon #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #lowkey terrified to post this oh god #oh well

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