#my friend invited me over for dinner at the last minute so i have given up on errand number 2

[divine-donna]

lovin' me

part 01

a continuation of my previous set of headcanons. i wanted to write something more romantic. less pining. maybe a bit more...steamy. i got inspired after showing my friend the movie.

yes i am continuing the fifty fifty vincent renzi interpretation. he's sooooo fifty fifty coded. he's just like me fr

character: vincent renzi

for vibes: "lovin' me" by fifty fifty

"you have not changed. not a bit."

"stop." you can't help but laugh. you know it's...predictable of you. to get the same order you got every time you guys came to this cafe. but familiarity called to you.

habits were hard to break.

vincent leans back, placing a cigarette between his lips. he pulls his lighter out and tries to light it. it fails after a minute of trying. he must be out of fuel.

"you got a lighter?"

"always." you pull it out and place it in his hand.

his hand is soft and slightly cool. your fingers linger, trying to warm his hand with your own. he pulls away too quickly. you wanted your fingers to linger against each other just a bit longer.

he looks at the lighter. it was decorated. he recognizes the little line of pearls, going up and down with roses at the points the arches meet. he did it himself. and then he had given you the lighter as a gift. you laughed, brushing off the blush dusting his cheeks. you thought it was the wine.

the lighter you decorated at the time was a little more crude. less pattern like. it was chaotic, with a variety of charms that you thought represented him. he remembers how you cursed when the cross charm moved. it was crooked and you were too frustrated to try to fix it.

all while your friends' laughter filled the room and more wine was being poured into your glasses.

"you still kept this?" vincent lights his cigarette with the lighter. he takes a drag and blows the smoke away from you. it comes out as a steady stream.

his jawline. the way his hair framed his face. his turtleneck. his laxed posture. he was charming, your vincent.

charming and attractive.

"why wouldn't i?" you take your lighter back to light your own cigarette.

"i just...i would have expected all the pearls and roses to have fallen off by now."

"you were...generous with the modge podge."

he laughs. "i was, yes."

"what about you? just decided to throw the one i made for you away or...?"

vincent shakes his head. "no. i've...in truth, i've never used it. it's locked up in my desk drawer."

part of you felt a little offended. you place a hand over your heart, feigning offense. "vincent! how could you!"

"it's not like that! i swear! you put so much stuff on it that it...is kind of unusable!"

"it is not!"

"well...it isn't. i've used it. once." he puts up his index finger. "one of the moon charms came off. and i didn't want to spoil the art piece you had made for me. so it sits in my drawer. because i don't want it to be destroyed."

you watch him take another drag and blow away from you. your heart beats faster and you feel your cheeks warm.

he was sure he had the right address.

was this too much?

bringing flowers to you? properly prepared, put in a vase already. a balance between the vibrant colors of the flowers and the greens.

you seem to sense that he's there, because he raises his hand to knock and the door opens.

you're holding a wine glass and dressed casually in some loungewear.

"you're early! and with flowers!"

he looks down at them. "think of them as...a homecoming gift?"

you smile widely. "just come in!"

you had made dinner. a simple steak and frites. nothing special. vincent reminisces about how often you made this for him while you guys were in university. while on a budget, of course.

the meal is delicious. and then you introduce the big thing you invited him over for: baking and cake decorating.

"we always joked that we could do better than the people on cooking shows."

"can we?" he rolls his sleeves up. "do we even know how to...start?" he had a vague idea. baking wasn't exactly his specialty. he preferred to cook.

the last time he baked was in university. and you were there to help him clean his oven, which took over three hours to do.

"if we follow a recipe, we should be fine."

except it wasn't that simple.

there was flour and cocoa powder everywhere. you were pretty sure you had gotten some in vincent's hair, making it look whiter than it was.

he looks so cute though with flour on his nose.

the wine kept coming as you guys pushed the cake pans into the oven. in your drunken stupor, you both forget a timer. he's paying more attention to you, following you into the living room. he sets his wine glass down, half full with red.

you pull a record out of its sleeve and set it down on the player. it rotates as you drop the needle and music begins to play.

he raises his eyebrows. "you still listen to this song?"

"hey. it's great. and totally american." you giggle, taking another sip of your red.

you move towards him. drunken but effortless. there was a purpose in your movements as you walk towards him. you put your hand out.

vincent smiles and takes your invitation. he puts his hand in yours, feeling its warmth. your warmth. you pull him over and dance.

i think we're alone now. there doesn't seem to be anyone around. i think we're alone now. the beating of our hearts is the only sound.

somehow, you don't spill your wine. you finish it and set the glass down. you spin in his arms. they wrap around you, like a warm blanket.

he smells good too. coffee, pear, and white florals.

his sweater is soft. his touch is gentle. he looks at you with those big, puppy dog eyes of his.

and then you fall.

you bring him down with you.

the plush carpet holds your head. you look up at him. he looks into your eyes and you see your face reflected in his pupils. your cheeks are flushed red.

there's something unspoken between you two and you pick your head up, trying to meet him.

vincent meets you halfway, his lips soft. he tastes sweet, like honey.

his hands cup your face as you move in sync. he's in tune with your rhythm, letting you take the lead and guide him on what to do.

your fingers play with the ends of his hair, wrapping it around one of them. you press your hand against the middle of his back, pulling his body closer.

a small moan escapes you when he moves his hips. he grinds softly, your crotches rubbing against each other through your clothes.

you kiss him harder, deeper, sliding your tongue past his lips to caress his own. vincent moans into your mouth, one of his hands resting on the carpet and digging his fingers into it. he could feel himself beginning to slip and lose control.

and then, the smell of something burning reaches your nose.

you pull away, face flushed. his face was completely red. and not from the wine either.

"fuck the cake!"

vincent's brief feeling of happiness dissipates as he smells the cake burning. his lips curl upwards into a smirk. "leave it." he goes back in, pressing a small kiss against your lips. "we'll try again."

you kiss him back, giving into the bliss. "i think we fucked up the measurements anyways."

he laughs.

it feels like home.

#anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi fanfiction #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #romantic #headcanons

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 2 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare Jessica off. With a little bit of help, he manages to get a few minutes alone with her again. And all she does is effortlessly make him want even more.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was still perplexed the following afternoon as he listened to Maverick lecture about the efficiency of the modified fuel system in the F/A-18. He couldn't help but think that Dr. Reed would have done a much better job speaking on the topic. And looked cute while doing it. 

He'd spent most of the night thinking about her, trying to determine where exactly he had fucked things up. It seemed like she was into him while they were at the bar. The cheap beers and peanuts at Chippy's let Jake know she would be relaxed enough to hang with his friends. And the way she looked and her PhD in physics let him know she would hold his interest. If he was looking for someone to date, it would be Professor Jessica in a heartbeat.

She was so charming and intelligent. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it only took her an hour last night to recognize that Jake wouldn't be enough to hold her interest. She really went running for her office as soon as they were outside.

"Damn," he muttered once the aviators were all dismissed for the day. When he unlocked his phone, his browser was still open to the tab of Jessica's profile on the San Diego State University website. That little photo of her wearing her glasses and a blouse with the top buttons undone was really messing with him. He practically had the About Me section memorized by now, and she'd said nothing about a spouse. He went to close out of it, but he couldn't. 

"Hey, you need a ride again today?" Bradley asked him, checking his own phone.

"Nah, I got my truck back this morning," he replied. "But thanks."

Bradshaw just shrugged and grunted in response, but then he was holding up his phone for Jake to see the screen. "My wife apparently has a message for you."

Sugar: Tell Hangman I ate lunch with Dr. Reed today. And she wanted to know if my sexy aviator husband happened to know another sexy aviator by the name of Jake Seresin.

Jake perked right up at that. "Mind if I text Dr. Tits myself?" he asked, and Bradley handed over his phone. 

"Just as long as you don't call her Dr. Tits. Jesus, I'm shocked you're still alive."

But he wasn't listening. Rather he was already texting. 

Hey, it's Jake. Did Jessica say anything else? After we had some beers at Chippy's, she kind of ran off. I'd like to see her again, but I'm not so sure she'd want to see me.

Jake sent the message and stared at the screen. "She might not be able to respond right now," Bradshaw was saying. "She's got a late lecture this evening." But the messaging app was telling Jake that she was in fact currently typing. 

"Shh," Jake said, devouring the message as soon as it arrived.

Sugar: I told her I know you. Be thankful that I painted a much, much prettier picture of you than I could have. But she didn't say much else. However... she does have office hours until 7:00 tonight. Just so you know.

Jake groaned and handed the phone back to Bradley. Of course he was relying on help from the woman he had accidentally given a vulgar nickname. He didn't know what he should do. On one hand, he'd love to show up at Jessica's office and pick up where they left off. On the other hand, there was a good chance it would be awkward. But he wanted to know what he did wrong. 

While they were at Chippy's, Jake had been thinking about inviting her to have dinner at his place one night. He thought about making her smile and laugh in his kitchen while he tried to convince her he was smart enough to keep up with the conversation. Imagining how it might feel to press his lips to her elegant neck.

"Yeah, I'm going," he grunted, checking the time. 

"Going where?" Bradshaw asked, looking at him like he had two heads as they finally exited the deserted classroom. 

"Visit your wife at work," Jake replied with a wink. 

He just rolled his eyes in response. "Tell her I'll pick her up at 9."

Jake didn't even bother to change out of his flight suit. He'd only been out on the tarmac for a short period of time today, so the jet fumes didn't seem to be an issue. He grabbed his wallet and keys from his locker and rushed for his truck. It was already after 6 o'clock. Depending on traffic, he might not even make it to campus before Jessica's office hours ended. But what did he have to lose?

"Come on," he complained, merging with the congestion of cars leaving North Island. Everyone was creeping across the bay bridge, and Jake was watching the minutes tick away. When he was finally close to campus, he tried to remember where Bradshaw had parked yesterday. He cut down a side street and came out near the math and science building, but there was nowhere to park. 

"Shit," he said, and then someone was pulling out of a spot further up the block. Somehow he managed to successfully squeeze his truck between two other cars, and he hopped out onto the sidewalk. He tossed his sunglasses onto the front seat before locking his truck, and tried to fix his hair as he walked toward her building. He could see Chippy's across the street, and he briefly wondered if she might head over there if he couldn't find her office in time. 

When he tried to open the door to the math and science building, it was locked. He jiggled all the door hands, but none of them were open. There was a card reader off to one side, but no students in sight. "Fuck," he groaned. The building was probably only left unlocked yesterday for the mini lectures. 

Jake started scrambling for his phone so he could call Bradshaw and get his wife's number. But then he saw her walking down the hallway inside, and he pounded on the door. She turned and looked at him with a cautionary glance until she realized it was him. Then she walked over and pulled the door open for him.

She grinned and said, "Just in time for office hours, I see."

"Thank you," Jake said, and he didn't even call her Dr. Tits. "I owe you one. For the information and for opening the door."

She just pointed him toward the row of elevators and said, "Dr. Reed's office is on the fifth floor, to the left when you exit the elevator."

"Thanks!" he called out as he practically ran to push the little up arrow. And now he was nervous. Why did he think this was a good idea? As the doors slid open, he registered that it wasn't too late to just go back to his truck and drive home. But as they started to close again, he found himself darting inside and pushing the number 5. 

If he got completely shot down, then so be it. And if she was already gone for the day, then maybe he'd consider stopping by Chippy's and running the risk of having her bartender friend give him the third degree. But it would be worth it just in case Jessica wanted to talk to him again. 

Fifth floor. He turned to the left and read all of the names on the doors as he made his way down the long hallway. And then he saw it on the placard on the second to last door on the left. DR. JESSICA REED, PHD.

The door was slightly ajar, and Jake let out a deep breath before he knocked. 

"Come in."

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside her small office, he smiled. Jessica was sitting at her desk, writing something down in that red notebook he saw yesterday, and when her gaze slid up his body, her lips parted in surprise when she met his eyes. "Jake."

"Dr. Reed," he drawled. "I almost missed your office hours."

Her eyes were wide, and she nudged her glasses up higher on her nose with the backs of her fingers. "What are you doing here?"

Jake took a step closer to her desk, and she slowly stood. And hell if she wasn't wearing another cute skirt today. 

She was eyeing him curiously, still waiting for an answer when he said, "You told me I could borrow your copy of the Journal of Propulsion Science. The edition with the information about Super Hornets."

"Oh," she whispered, her face falling a bit. "Right. Of course." She turned away from him and started to search along some shelves that were jammed with books and periodicals. His eyes roamed over the back of her body all the way down to her feet and her high heels. He watched as she pulled a few glossy journals out and turned to hand them to him. "Here's the Propulsion Science journal, and here are a few more that might interest you. I don't need them back. You can keep them."

Jake took them and immediately set them down softly on her desk without looking at them. "Thanks, but that's actually not the only reason why I'm here."

"Why else are you here then?" she asked carefully, and Jake wished there wasn't a large desk between his body and hers. He felt himself starting to hesitate again, but he was already in this deep. Might as well go all the way.

"Listen, Jessica. I was having a pretty great time last night at Chippy's." He was trying to gauge her reaction as he added, "You're beautiful, funny and smart, and hey, I'm only human. And I thought you were maybe feeling what I was feeling? And correct me if I'm wrong here, but I thought we were having fun? And it didn't even seem like you expected me to lay down my usual bullshit, which was really nice."

"Oh," she gasped. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth before she said, "No. You're not wrong."

He shrugged at her, heart pounding as he asked, "Then what did I do wrong? Why did you run off?"

She laughed softly and looked down at her desk. "I nerded out so hard."

Jake grinned as the sheepish look on her face. "You must have been able to tell I was enjoying myself. God, I could have stayed at Chippy's with you all night long. You know more about my jet than I do, and I have the NATOPS memorized."

She ran her fingers nervously along the top of her desk as she looked at the stack of journals he was meant to take with him. As Jake planted his hands on his hips, she glanced up at him. "It's just too good to be true."

He shook his head slightly. "What's too good to be true?"

"You."

He raised one eyebrow, about to ask what that was supposed to mean when she said, "There's always a catch with the charming, good looking guys, right?"

"A catch?"

She licked her lips and pressed her palms on the desk, leaning a little closer to him. "I've been through this before. There's always someone else. A sexy naval aviator in his uniform shows up to my lecture and then flirts with me? Please. There's always another girl."

Jake was kind of stunned. "I would never do that."

But she still looked apprehensive as she said, "As soon as you started ignoring calls and messages, you said you had to leave."

Bradshaw. He was ignoring calls from Bradshaw who was trying to tell Jake to meet him at the Bronco. And he was only ignoring him because he didn't want to leave her at all.

When he didn't respond right away, she shrugged and said, "Figured it was your girlfriend calling you."

Jake made sure she met his eyes before he said, "I don't have a girlfriend."

She barely hesitated before asking, "Wife?"

"I don't have one of those either."

Jessica slowly pushed off from her desk so she was standing at her full height, lips forming a perfect, kissable pout. She looked a little embarrassed now as she messed with her glasses. "That's all really useful information to have," she muttered, picking up the stack of journals and walking them around her desk. 

Her steps were intentional and deliberate, the little click of her high heels muffled in the small space. Even in those shoes she only came up to his chin, and she didn't stop until she was right in front of him. He could smell her shampoo or perfume. He could see gold flecks in her eyes. This time when she held out the journals, they grazed his flight suit. He took them in one hand and murmured, "Thank you."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, and Jake almost tossed the literature aside and pushed her against her desk when her fingers met the patches on his flight suit. He stood still against his desire to tilt her face up and press his lips to that pout. She looked good, and she smelled good, and Jake was convinced she would taste good, too. Then she glanced up at him, fingers still tracing his patch that said HANGMAN. 

He cleared his throat softly. "What if I decide I want to return the journals after I read them? And what if I have some questions only an expert would be able to answer?"

She smiled and said, "Then I would implore you to find me and avoid Dr. Leeland and the rest of the physics department."

Jake laughed softly, but then she removed her hand from his flight suit, and he started to reach for her. But she was already turning toward her desk, tearing a page out of her red notebook. As she bent at the waist, Jake stifled a groan and rubbed one rough hand over his mouth. Her skirt rode up along her legs, exposing so much skin, he couldn't look away. Perfect, gorgeous skin from her bare thighs down to her ankles and those stupidly high heels. 

He was definitely caught staring after she finished scribbling on the sheet of notebook paper and spun to face him. He wanted to ask her if she wanted another three dollar pint and some peanuts, but she folded the paper in half and handed it to him before he could gather his thoughts into a sentence that actually made sense.

He glanced down and saw that she'd written her office hours in her neat penmanship. 

Dr. Reed's office hours for journal topic discussion:

Tuesdays 5:30 to 7:00

Thursdays 6:00 to 7:30

"I might be willing to stay late again. For you." 

Jake looked up into her pretty eyes and tapped the sheet of paper. "Any chance you'd add your phone number for me, Dr. Reed?"

The soft smile and dreamy look she bestowed on him had him grinning like an idiot, he was certain. He wanted that phone number in the worst way. When Jessica's fingers ghosted along his patch one more time, she said, "Maybe I'll see you on Thursday?"

"Yes." Jake would make it a point to come back on Thursday. 

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

Professor Jessica thought she nerded too close to the sun. And Jake really did give off some of the telltale signs of a man who is up to no good (including but not limited to looking hot in his uniform). Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 3

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@captain-beskar

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@callsign-joyride

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@strrywmen

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x oc #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fic #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #adult education #top gun rocktober

[cur-sedd]

𝘊𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘹?! ₊˚⊹

RAHH okay currently thinking of some concepts for vampire!TXT BUT BUT BUT !! i thought of the most delicious soobie boobie car smut while i was on a late night drive SO please take this silly fic i wrote at like 1 in the morning (also ty for the love on my hyuka fic, yall ate fr)

MDNI!! NSFW CONTENT BELOW !!

╰┈➤ dom!soobin x sub!fem reader, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap!) slight size kink, petnames (baby, bunny, sweetheart, soobs), one mention of hair tugging, car sex, and making out! lmk if i missed anything 💕

In the two years you and Soobin have dated, you both had NEVER touched each other sexually . Despite you both being the horniest people you both know, it was just a matter of who was going to make the first move. Sure, a few hugs and kisses here and there. And of course, cuddling. But you both had never even gotten to the makeout stage. Until tonight. You and Soobin had been giving small hits to each other the last few days. Soobin’s hands always dangerously near your boobs when he would be the big spoon, or how everytime you both would kiss each other goodbye to leave with friends, your lips would linger in certain places you KNEW he was sensitive in just to get a reaction. One that same day, Soobin texted you, asking if you wanted to “move forward”. Knowing exactly what  he wanted, you agreed in less than a second. You both were so childish around each other, giggling whenever Soobin would put his hand on your thigh. You both would just burst out into laughter. It was silly and you both couldn't take each other seriously. So, setting the giggles aside you made up a little plan. You guys would clear your schedules for the next day and  try your best to makeout

Except, of course it didn't go to plan. Soobin being forgetful of this whole plan had you confused on why his friends were now sitting in your shared living room. Soobin had invited his friends over, thinking nothing of it. So when you walk into your house, you can imagine the face Soobin had made as soon as he saw you, all dolled up for him. Closing the passenger seat of the car, you turned your head to glare at Soobin, whose face had guilt spread all over it. Soobin had told his friends he was out to get some dinner, to which they all happily agreed, given they were hungry. But you and Soobin both knew it was gonna take a bit longer.

Soobin had put the car into reverse and slowly backed out of the driveway before shifting the gear to drive. His car was fairly big so it was great for transportation-.. Among other things. “Bunny, I’m sorry, I really am. I completely forgot. I must've mixed up the day or something.” “Soobs, we made the plan together! You could've at least texted me that we would’ve had people over.” “I know, I know. I really am sorry baby.” Soobin mumbled, a hand reaching out to caress your thigh with his thumb You gave Soobin a small glance, just to see if he was laughing or anything but surprisingly he was serious. In a few minutes, Soobin parked his car in a secluded area. If he drove a little further, you could've sworn you could see the whole city. You both quickly made your way to the back seat and wasted no time. Soobin crashed his lips into yours, to which you reacted quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wanted to make up for that little mistake. That and because he was tired of hiding the fact he had jerked off to you so many times + he was horny. Soobin pulled you into his lap as you two kissed, large hands squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You jumped slightly, causing Soobin to break off the hungry kiss, leaving you both breathless. “Are you okay?” Soobin asked, tilting his head to the side. You nodded with a slight giggle. “Your hands are cold.” “Get used to it quickly..please.” He quickly responded, to which you nodded, leaning in to kiss Soobin once more.

Feeling you slightly grind on Soobin’s thigh, Soobin let out a small chuckle. “You want it that bad sweetheart?” He teased, lips slowly trailing down to kiss at your breasts. “It's not my fault you make me feel this way.” You breathed out, feeling Soobin’s cold fingers pull your low cut shirt down, only for his heart shape lips to latch onto your nipples

You feel your breath hitch as Soobin’s tongue licks and sucks your mound of flesh with such hunger, giving each one the same treatment. You felt his boner come up through his jeans to hit your right where your soaking core was, under your skirt. Your hands tucked softly on Soobin’s hair, causing him to look up at you with his big eyes, faking innocence. Your eyes said it all, and Soobin was more than happy to serve. The car shook slightly as Soobin’s hard thrusts gave out. Your hands held onto Soobin’s broad shoulders as mascara filled tears trickled down your cheeks. Soobin’s hand gently was placed over the small bump in your stomach, watching as it disappeared and reappeared with each thrust. Your moans were like music to Soobin’s ears. He waited, he was patient for two whole years just to hear you cry out his name, saying it was “too much”

You hiccuped and sobbed, removing all of your pretty makeup. Hours of getting ready, doing your hair, doing your makeup gone in a mere 20 minutes :( You watched Soobin pound the living daylights out of you as your grip on his shoulders tightened. Soobin lowered his face to kiss at your lips, to which you gladly kissed back in between soft sobs

“Baby gonna cum- gonna- oh fuck! ‘M gonna cum-” “Its okay- just.. God you’re so fucking tight- gonna cum too.”

Soobin’s thrusts were sloppier than ever as you both nearly reached your high. You guy’s moans became much whinier until you had came, to which Soobin had pulled out and came onto your stomach right after. Soobin let out a tired sigh, placing small kisses all over your face. “You felt so good, my love.”

“Why did we wait 2 years for this?” You asked, letting out a breathy laugh. Soobin shrugged slightly, chuckling a bit as his kisses trailed to kiss at your boobs. It was only until a text from one of Soobin’s friends had brought him out of his lustful trance.

“Hyungggg!! When will you and y/n be back? We’re starving and i swear i will actually burn your house down if you dont hurry” ✧˖°

(a/n: bonus points if yk who texted soobin LMAO)

#txt #kpop #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #choi soobin #txt hard hours #txt smut #kpop smut #soobin #curse writes #soobin hard thoughts #soobie boobie #so obsessed #soobin hard hours #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios

[steddiealltheway]

Part Four of The Danger in Romanticizing. Part One. Part Three. Ao3 Link

Steve reaches out beside him, trying to wind his arms around the warm body next to him. His arms wrap around a bare torso, smooth even as his fingertips trace over tattooed skin. He presses his chest against the man’s back, pulling him in closer and burying his face in the dark messy curls and breathing in deep.

It feels... perfect.

Steve wonders how he got so lucky to be able to wake up next to this perfect man.

His heart thuds in his chest gradually getting louder and faster to the point that it startles Steve. He slowly cracks an eye open, wondering what the hell is happening, confusion clouding his brain.

“Steve!” Robin yells, knocking louder. “Wake up!”

Steve is suddenly startled back into reality, scrambling back and staring at the pillow in his arms that used to be...

Fuck.

That would be the last time Steve goes to bed thinking about not thinking about Eddie which ultimately ended with him... thinking about him. And dreaming about him.

He groans and rubs his hands over his face.

“Steve!”

“Just a minute,” Steve groans. He slowly makes his way out of bed and opens the door a few inches. “What?”

Robin looks him up and down. “What type of dream were you having? You’ve never slept that deeply before.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Steve says, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the doorframe. “What time is it?”

“Ten.”

Steve cracks an eye open. “What?”

“Yeah, you slept in for once. But hey, do you want to go to Chrissy’s and Eddie’s tonight? They invited us over for dinner.”

The last thing Steve needs to do is see Eddie. “Yeah, that sounds great.” Shit.

Robin smiles wide and says, “Great. Now shower before you stink up the place.”

Steve gives her a look before he shuts the door. He glances down at his chest and notices the way his chest hair is slightly damp with sweat. “Gross,” he mumbles as he grabs a towel and makes his way to the bathroom to try to wash away all memories of the PG dream that somehow wrecked him.

-:-:-:-:-:-

All day, Steve tries not to worry about the upcoming visit.

It’s just Chrissy, Robin, and the man who he’s only seen twice who is quickly taking up all the space in his brain.

It doesn’t help that Robin’s been pressing him about the dream which was first out of concern when she thought his nightmares had come back. Once Steve had (regrettably) informed her that the dream was definitely not a nightmare, her concern turned into morbid curiosity.

“Come on, you’ve told me about your wet dreams before. Why is this any different?” Robin asks as she puts on mascara.

Steve fixes his hair in the mirror next to her and groans, “It wasn’t a wet dream.”

“Okay, so an even easier dream to share with your best friend,” she says, nudging him.

And any other time, Steve would’ve given in, but with the subject of his dream being the best friend of Robin’s girlfriend, who Steve swore he didn’t like, it makes things... complicated.

Robin gasps, “Was it something about Collin?”

Steve grimaces, “God no. Don’t put those thoughts in my head or my unconscious brain might betray me.”

“And did it betray you last night?”

Steve narrows his eyes at her. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because it’s clearly bothering you!”

“I think it’s bothering you more than it’s bothering me,” Steve snarks back.

Robin huffs, “You’re deflecting.”

“Dating a psych major has expanded your vocabulary, I see.”

“Steve.”

He sighs and turns to Robin. “It was nothing really. I was just cuddling with some random person, and it didn’t make me want to get out of bed apparently.”

The frown on Robin’s face deepens as she moves back from the mirror and puts her mascara down. Her eyes follow the tube down to the counter as she contemplates something. She turns to Steve and asks, “Do you want me to try to set you up with someone?”

Steve instantly thinks of Eddie and suppresses a groan as he shakes his head. There’s no use trying to get with someone else until he can successfully unromanticize Eddie. And yes, it’ll be torture, but he doesn’t want to hurt someone else in the process like he has in the past.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Robin asks gently.

Steve gives her a sad smile and shakes his head. “I was really an asshole in high school.”

Robin lays a hand on his arm and squeezes. “No use punishing yourself for it now.”

He knows she’s trying to help him feel better, but it just further confirms what he already knows. He wishes he could call some of the girls he dragged around back when he was so hung up on Nancy and couldn’t think about the feelings of anyone else involved. But it’s too late now.

Steve glances at himself in the mirror. He knows he hasn’t physically changed too much from when he was in high school considering it’s only been a few years, but he sees a new haunted expression in his eyes that didn’t use to be there before. He’s grateful that Robin and the kids had such a drastic effect on his life and changed his entire worldview, but sometimes he misses the blissful ignorance that came with being a popular asshole.

He glances down at his watch and decides he should probably change into something more presentable for dinner. His heart lifts a little when he thinks about wearing his blue polo with the green stripe and hoping Eddie will find some amusement in his preppy choice. “I’m gonna get changed,” Steve dismisses himself, quick to lock himself in his room so he can stare in the mirror longer than necessary.

Soon enough, he’s listening to Robin’s poor instructions as she attempts to guide him to Chrissy and Eddie’s place while getting distracted and forgetting key turns. “You’ve been dating Chrissy for a month now; shouldn’t you stop worrying about perfecting your mascara?”

Robin continues to stare at herself in the mirror, somehow still focused on the mascara she’s been touching up for hours before they even left. “I would like to date her for another month, and if that means perfect mascara, then I’m keeping it that way.”

Steve rolls his eyes at her and hits his brakes sharply when Robin yells at him to turn right. He sighs and asks, “And in the two years you’ve known her, you’ve had perfect mascara every time?”

“I would touch it up anytime we were put on a shift together at the coffee shop.”

“And every time during your destined first class together?” Steve asks, smiling as he recalls all the time Robin would come home bitching and moaning about how wonderful her coworker Chrissy seemed but she never had a chance with her. But last year when they unknowingly registered for the same class and Chrissy sat next to her, Robin seemed to have a small change of heart. She used to tell Steve that the universe perfectly aligned in order to get a class with her. Steve was quick to point out that it was pretty lucky for her to already be working at the campus coffee shop with her.

“Every time,” Robin says.

Steve shakes his head and checks his hair in the mirror as they approach a stop sign. He quickly stops himself when he realizes he’s a bit of a hypocrite to make fun of Robin for wanting to look perfect when he’s doing the same thing.

“Oh! It’s right there!” Robin says as Steve nearly misses the turn into the apartment complex.

Thankfully, Robin puts her mascara away and guides him to a parking space. When they get out, Steve stares up at the building and whistles low. It’s one of the nicer apartment complexes in the area that he and Robin couldn’t afford when they first got here.

“They’re on the third floor,” Robin announces, gesturing for Steve to follow her.

As he makes his way up to the top floor, Steve thinks that maybe he does prefer their cheaper first-floor apartment. He takes a deep breath as Robin knocks on the first door to the right. It swings open almost immediately and Chrissy practically jumps out of the door to hug Robin.

Steve smiles and politely averts his eyes to let them have their moment. He hears Chrissy say, “Steve!” as he’s also pulled into a tight hug before being welcomed inside.

He looks around at the space, a living room decorated with nice darker blue and pale pink tones in front of him and an open kitchen to the right with a tall kitchen island that acts as a bar next to a small dining area. There’s only one hallway to the right where he assumes Chrissy’s and Eddie’s rooms are.

“Eddie! Our guests are here!”

Steve smiles as he hears light cursing coming from the room on the left, closest to the living room before the door flies open and Eddie leans out with a sheepish look on his face. “And what if I said my room is not ready for Steve’s tour?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes. “Then I would say that you’ve been in there for hours procrastinating, and I would ask if a clean room is a true representation of how you live.”

“Then I would say you’re rude.”

Chrissy sticks her tongue out at him before grabbing Robin’s hand and pulling her to the kitchen to test something she’s cooking.

“It smells amazing in here,” Steve says as he takes in the smell of baking bread.

“That’s all Chrissy. I’m pretty sure I would burn the place down if I attempted to make a grilled cheese,” Eddie confesses as he makes his way to Steve.

Steve laughs. “What do you do when Chrissy isn’t available to cook?”

“He starves!”

Eddie glares at Chrissy momentarily. “I know how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and order takeout.”

“Very impressive, Munson,” Robin says with a laugh.

Eddie frowns and wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I’m going to take Steve here on a nice tour of the place so I can get away from you two.” As the girls roll their eyes, Eddie lowers his voice and says, “You see what I have to deal with every time you’re not around?”

Steve turns to him and fights the urge to run a nervous hand through his hair because of the close proximity. “It’s a very rough life you live.”

“Someone understands!” Eddie exclaims dramatically. “And before anyone can argue with me, let me start your tour.” He grabs Steve’s hand and runs down the hall which startles a laugh out of him.

“Why are we running?”

“It’s a speed tour so you don’t get the chance to truly look at my room! But first, we have Chrissy’s room.” Eddie opens the door on the right and gestures around at the room filled with pretty pastels. “She has a wonderful bathroom to herself but much less closet space.”

Before Steve can really comment or take it in, Eddie rushes off to the door to his room, opens it, and shuts it. “My room.”

“Wait,” Steve says as he gets a flash of dark colors and clutter. “You can’t do that.”

“My house, my rules.”

Steve goes to cross his arms but doesn’t when he realizes Eddie’s hand is still in his. “And what if I break the rules?” he challenges.

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Eddie flirts easily.

“Eddie!” Chrissy groans loudly. “Stop being a perv.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not- hey!”

Steve takes the distraction to open the door and rush into the room, nearly stepping into a pile of clothes in the process. He wasn’t lying when he said it was not ready for a tour.

“Well… this is me…” Eddie comments, scratching at his neck and flushing a light shade of pink. He stoops over and grabs a pile of clothes before dumping them in a laundry basket in the corner of the room.

So, maybe he isn’t so perfect after all. Steve tries to shrug away the thought that maybe that’s okay and instead tries to focus on chiseling away at the perfect image he’s started to form of Eddie. He glances around at the posters covering the wall with things that Steve doesn’t recognize until he spots a few picture frames on Eddie’s desk. He bends down and sees a picture of Eddie with an older man. “Is this the uncle you told me about? The one that works at the plant.”

“You remember that?” Eddie asks as he makes his way over to the table.

“Of course,” Steve comments nonchalantly.

 Eddie gives him a quick questioning look before turning his gaze toward the photo. A fond look crosses over his face. “Yeah, that’s my uncle Wayne.” He points at another picture frame with a picture of him and a few guys with matching shirts on. “That’s both Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin – my metal band.” He moves on to the next frames and continues, “And you’ll never guess who those two are.”

Steve laughs at the picture of Chrissy and Eddie in graduation gowns much like the picture he has with Robin except Eddie’s sticking his tongue out and making devil horns with his fingers while Chrissy laughs and holds up what looks like a pom-pom.

“Chrissy was a cheerleader?”

Eddie snorts. “The queen cheerleader actually. I carried that pom-pom under my gown during that whole ceremony so she could have it in photos.”

Steve smiles as his mind tries to form the memory. He looks around at the other frames and can’t help but ask, “There's no pictures of you and… the sort of boyfriend who has no name?”

Eddie huffs and looks down. “No, it’s not… like that. I don’t think. It’s not serious, I mean. Maybe. I don’t know.” He shakes his head and quietly says, “His name is Declan.”

“Declan?” Steve can’t help but say with a laugh.

“What’s wrong with the name?” Eddie asks defensively but a small smile tugs at his lips.

Steve just shrugs and repeats, “Declan.” The name doesn’t feel right.

Eddie sighs, “Well, it’s not like he chose it, Steve.”

The tone Eddie says his name makes Steve cross his arms. “What’s wrong with my name, Eddie?”

An interesting redness creeps up Eddie’s neck as he shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” He suddenly gasps and grabs Steve’s hand, tugging him to the corner of his room. “I have to show you my sweetheart.”

Steve’s heart simultaneously skips a beat and sinks as the nickname slips out of Eddie’s mouth. But then Eddie is gently caressing a guitar hanging on the wall in a way that makes Steve’s heart yearn for the same touch.

“She’s gorgeous,” Steve comments, turning his attention to the guitar. And although he’s never known much about instruments, he can understand why this one deserves the attention it receives from its owner. And it’s especially gorgeous when Steve imagines that same owner playing it, slowly moving his fingers across the strings and-

Steve shakes his head and tries to get a grip of himself, but he can’t help but envision something with Eddie especially when the whole “not serious” comment plays over and over in his head.

“You alright?”

Steve glances back at Eddie and nods with a tight smile. “Just lost in thought.”

It seems as if Eddie’s going to ask what he’s thinking about, but instead, he says, “Let’s finish up the tour.” He maneuvers around a stack of papers and books lying on the ground and leads Steve to another door on the left side of his room. “And here is my meticulous bathroom that Chrissy requires me to keep clean in case we have guests over.”

Steve glances around as Eddie leads him through it to the other door that leads right back into the open living space. “Weird layout, I know. But it’s grown on me.” Eddie shrugs and gestures at the end of the hall. “That there is our laundry room, but that’s not important. What is important is this,” Eddie announces, grabbing Steve’s hand again.

Steve can tell that Robin is staring at them, but he lets himself get lost in all that is Eddie as a tour guide when he suddenly yanks the curtains on the wall open. At first, Steve thinks it’s some type of joke until pink and orange light somewhat blinds him as a glass door is revealed. Eddie opens it up immediately and tugs him out onto a small balcony with a small porch swing. But Steve barely notices it as he stares out at the view.

He hears a small creak behind him and he turns to see Eddie sitting on the porch swing, rocking back and forth slowly. He gestures Steve over, and he’s quick to join him, liking how it’s on the smaller side so he has an excuse to stay in Eddie’s space as he looks out at the sunset. “It’s beautiful,” Steve comments, not sure what else he can say to describe the sight. He’s never been the greatest with words, but beautiful seems to encapsulate the moment perfectly.

They both sit there in silence for a few moments, leaning into each other’s space and watching as the sun paints the sky as it slowly goes down.

Eddie pushes his shoulder into Steve’s a bit before quietly asking, “So, everything went alright with Buckley, I assume?”

Steve’s heart sinks as he recalls the previous day. “Yeah, we talked it out a bit and had a nice night. But I’m sorry you witnessed that and thank you again for all that you did.”

“It wasn’t much,” Eddie shrugs it off.

Steve turns to him and looks him in the eye, catching the way the light makes his eyes turn an amber color that nearly distracts him from what he’s saying. “It meant a lot to me.”

The sincerity of it must unnerve Eddie, as he quickly changes the subject. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed by the way.”

“Noticed what?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s eyes flicker down. “The horrendous polo.”

Steve laughs and can’t help but note that Chrissy was right about Eddie deflecting with humor, but maybe one day he’ll be able to get past that.

“You look good though,” Eddie admits and turns away as he says it; the lack of the overly flirtatious tone Eddie usually uses makes Steve feel damn butterflies in his stomach.

“You do too,” Steve replies, taking a moment to truly appreciate Eddie’s aesthetic from the ripped jeans to the band tee shirt with a hem that was cropped probably with a pair of blunt scissors to the big silver rings that adorn his fingers. But Steve’s eyes rest on a bit of blank ink peeking out from under the collar of Eddie’s shirt. “You have to tell me what your tattoos mean.”

Eddie smiles softly and points at the bats on the side of his arm. “This was my first one, and I was absolutely scared shitless. I mean-”

There’s a light knock on the door that interrupts them. Chrissy pokes her head out and says, “Phone for you, Eddie.”

Eddie sighs, “Is it important?”

Steve can’t help but feel a little pride at the fact that Eddie would be willing to ignore a phone call to continue this conversation with him.

“Not to me, but I guess it would be to you,” Chrissy answers with an edge to her voice.

Steve sees Eddie’s entire persona shift as he stands up quickly and asks, “Now?”

Chrissy nods but doesn’t look pleased about it while Eddie glances at Steve and back at the living room a few times before mumbling, “Shit,” under his breath and rushing inside.

Steve stands up cautiously and gives Chrissy a look. “Sorry,” Chrissy says entirely apologetic as Steve follows her back inside. But by then, the call is already over, and Eddie is rushing off to his room.

Steve watches as Chrissy storms off after him and closes the door behind her with a little more force than needed. “What’s happening?” Steve asks Robin.

Robin just shrugs and watches cautiously as it’s revealed to them that Eddie’s and Chrissy’s walls are much more soundproof than their own. But as muffled as it is, there’s no mistaking that an argument is occurring.

“Would it be horrible if we snuck into the joint bathroom so we could listen in?” Robin whispers.

Before Steve can answer, the door to Eddie’s room opens, and Eddie comes out having changed into a black pair of jeans with no rips, a plain black shirt, no rings, and his hair in a low ponytail. Chrissy follows him out with a clearly frustrated look on her face. “You said you would be here for this dinner.”

Eddie turns around and argues, “You know he doesn’t call often!”

“Because he isn’t good for you!”

“Because he works hard! He’s always on call at the hospital! I’ve told you this, Chris!”

Chrissy follows him toward the front door. “You could’ve invited him to dinner.”

Eddie turns back and lowly says, “You know that’s not how he works he… I don’t know.’

“Please, Eddie, listen to yourself.”

Eddie shakes his head and grabs his keys and wallet out of a bowl by the front door. “Don’t do this right now, okay? Just let me have this moment so I don’t upset him.”

The pair stare at each other for a few moments, a brief silent exchange occurring between the two of them that makes Steve wonder if that’s what he and Robin look like.

“At least apologize to our guests,” Chrissy says curtly.

Eddie glances at the two of them slowly, cringing as he takes Steve and Robin in as if had forgotten about them. “I’m sorry. I just… I have to go.” His eyes linger on Steve for a moment before he repeats, “I have to go,” and rushes out of the apartment.

Chrissy puts her head in her hands and sighs as the door closes loudly. “I apologize on his behalf.”

As Steve finally processes the conversation, he gently asks, “Was that about Declan?”

Chrissy nods and looks back at them tiredly. “Yes.” A timer goes off, saving her from saying anything else as she preps the dinner made for four.

The disappointment settles in Steve’s gut, but he tells himself not to let it show. He’s been there before, having feelings so intensely for someone that it seems like the most important thing in the world. And the feelings are only exasperated by someone who only gives you some of their time as if you’re a second thought… and by the sounds of it… Steve wonders what Eddie’s definition of “perfect” is. And how far he’s already romanticized this man.

Selfishly, he wonders if he would ever be better than the romanticization, and if Eddie would ever choose him over this “sort of” boyfriend.

Steve shakes his head. Slowly but surely, his own romanticization is being chiseled away, and as much as he knows it’s a good thing, it feels so bad.

Tag List, I know it's been MONTHS. I am so so sooooo sorry ahhhhh. But I have SO MANY plans. I SWEAR. I love you guys:

@henderdads @heyitsmeep @estrellami-1 @she-collects-smut @paperbackribs @panicatthediaz @the-unforgivenn @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @bookworm0690 @steddiereid @cherries-and-smoke @brbsoulnomming @deadfromtheneckdown @cosmos-lore @vhelt @i-less-than-three-you @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @whycantiuseunderscore @ytmnzwhre @vacantwatchers @ilovecupcakesandtea @irregular-child @spilled-jar @snapshotmaestro @myownworstenemyyy @silversnaffles

@surreal-honeypot @redfreckledwolf @dcamato @lostonceandneverfound @ajs624 @auroraplume @space-invading-pigeon @bookbinderbitch @leather-and-freckles @inapickleinajar @phirex22 @notaqueenakhaleesi @beckkthewreck @mightbeasleep @th30ra3k3n @fandomfix8 @tanthamorelover @3ldr1tchang3l @little-trash-ghost @haelreadsshit @moonythepluviophile @saramelaniemoon @slutty-weather @tinyplanet95 @foolishness-and-confusion @ape31 @thephantomhood @ilikeititspretty @zaddipax @jcmadgirl @shotgunhallelujah @notfromtwitter

@monsterloverforhire @sherilitchi @anaibis @ashwagandalf @overhillunderhill @marklee-blackmore @messrs-weasley @tolgakolik @pearynice @fruitandbubbles @classof86baby @aellafreya @r1ver-6 @l0st-strawberry @munsonslure @moltenchocolatelavacake @sleepdeprivedflower @0milkman0 @ihavekidneys @bird-with-pencils @sharingisntkaren @novelnovella @zoeweee @socksfanpage @viridianphtalo @octopus-in-cripsis @lillemilly @genderless-spoon @pineappleskiesxx @meganwinchester @phoenixtheone @jaybren @patricks-fabulous-face @idoquitelikebread

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #stranger things #the danger in romanticizing fic

[worriedvision]

okok I just got this idea in my head.

alhaitham and you were already in an established relationship and he gave you lots of affection and praise. this led to you falling in love with him more.

one day, he leaves you alone in your bedroom in the evening. you soon woke up, wondering what had happened - you ask kaveh (you 3 live together) where alhaitham had gone, but all he knew was that he was gonna go to a restaurant/cafe.

you think, “oh! he’s probably getting us some take away. maybe I should go follow him and say hello!” with a smile on your face, you get out of your pajamas and head outside.

once you arrived at the cafe, you saw alhaitham and another person. wanting to come and surprise him, you hid behind a wall. but as soon as you were about to come out, you saw him kiss the person.

you couldnt believe what was happening. it was like your life really was flashing before your eyes. alhaitham was your life.

you can continue the rest of the story <3

Oh my god the angst with this one! You came to the right person lol, gender neutral reader. Tagged as cheating as well.

---

When Kaveh told you about where Alhaitham was, you got the idea to surprise him by joining him while he ordered dinner. You liked being around him, his warmth was so comforting.

You find him, not yet seen by him, and he enters the café. You decide to hide for a bit, to plan the nicest moment to walk in, but unfortunately for you that doesn't happen.

He walks up to a well dressed individual, and he pulls them in and kisses them on the lips before pulling away, sitting with them while they start to eat.

You back up slowly, processing the entire thing, before running back home. Thankfully the distance was small, but it still felt like you had been running for hours as you run in. Kaveh had been making up a meal for himself, dropping the pan on the floor out of surprise when the door slams. Checking the contents in the pan were still in there, he nips out to see what happened.

You must have seen Alhaitham do somethjng really stupid, he had never seen you like this before. He was thinking maybe Alhaitham had told you off for leaving the house instead of waiting for him to return.

"He kissed someone else." You croak out, finally letting the tears fall. "He kissed them and sat down with them to eat."

"Oh, that absolute buffoon." Kaveh tuts, inviting you to sit and wait while Kaveh became the most supportive friend he could be.

--

"Oh, good evening, Alhaitham. I didn't know you were dating this person, given you have someone waiting back home for you." Kaveh grits his teeth, Alhaitham looking up out of shock.

"Oh, I'm just a side piece. A little something to enjoy on the side." The person explains, fully knowing Alhaitham was a taken man.

"Oh, well I have some spectacular news for you! You've just been promoted to the main dish." Kaveh cheers, people looking over to figure out what happened.

"You wouldn't want to break this to _, would you?" Alhaitham states, cutting into his meal. "Don't break 'bro code'."

"Unfortunately, Alhaitham, they came along to surprise you." Kaveh shrugs, Alhaitham looking away in shame. "They told me what they saw, and I had to see for myself to make sure there wasn't a misunderstanding. Really, Alhaitham, you ruined a rare relationship. They loved you." Kaveh shakes his head, walking out.

"Kaveh, please let me explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you couldn't keep it in your pants?" Kaveh asks, storming out as Alhaitham turns to finish his meal.

--

You had packed your bags while Kaveh was away. This was clearly the end of your relationship, and it really hurt. You lived in his house, you had slept with him, he was many of your firsts. Now, you couldn't bear to be there. He was your whole life, and now he had ended things in the worst way you could think, you had to think of where to move to.

Kaveh finally got home, shaking his head, and turning to see you preparing to leave, looking for any last minute accommodation you could go into.

"I have a friend who works as the forest watcher. He's been thinking of getting someone to act as his representative, someone who can do the things you can." Kaveh thinks out loud. "How about I lead the way? I'm sure he'll take you, and he could sort something out with accommodation."

#angst #gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #alhaitham #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh #cheating

[morwap]

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍?

micheal afton x fem!reader

sfw wishing it was halloween so this could be halloween themed but oh well,

nav • m.a m.list • series master list

swearing, a kiss, in the same timeline as my other fic, evan and elizabeth are very much alive, readers in a band, micheal has a nose piercing, micheal afton with a mullet, b/n = brothers name, sneaking into the pizzeria. drinking, stealing, playboy magazine, random names

───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────

Michaels's fingers drummed on the steering wheel, the music flowing from the speakers quietly but loud enough that he could enjoy it. the lights from the convenience store lit up his facial features as he waited on his friends. the summer heat was giving him a reminder of how hot it would be in his father's pizzaria, just the thought or mention of it made him groan and this constant reminder was not helping him in the slightest.

Michaels's eyes drifted around his truck, locking his eyes on the cd of your own music you had given him when you both were walking home from the two nice ladies' diner. lips turning up slowly into a soft smile, tempted to put it and listen but knowing his friends would be back any minute and he washed the thought out of his head, he could listen after dropping them off later.

laugher broke out into the summer air causing Michael to look up, watching his friends walk out with smiles. sighed as he could already pinpoint almost everything they had stolen—honestly shocked that no one called them out for it because they were awful at hiding it, you could practically see a bottle of alcohol in the front of Steven’s pants.

“Mikey I got your favorite” Jeremy snickered as he got into the small back seat, Steven got in after with the same smirk that Jeremy had. Michael shook his head but smiled as he started to pull out. Michael had gotten in trouble last time for coming home drunk by his mom, he could barely remember anything from that except the “you’re 18 and live under my roof and you will not be coming home drunk” lecture and he really didn't want to hear it again.

“Oh! I got you this, thought it looked like your girl” steven said, smacking the gum in his mouth as he pulled the dirty magazine from where he tucked it in the waistband of his pants and handed it to Michael.

“Shut the fuck up, she’s not my girl” Michael scoffed, glancing at the magazine, yes it did look like you but it was not you. steven mumbled a jokey “whatever” while Jeremy threw his hands up with a shrug when michael looked back at him. Michael tossed the magazine to the floor on the passenger side, but it took every ounce of self-control he had to not keep glancing at it.

“Mikey- man- we should drink at Freddy's,” Steven said, he looked back at Jeremy and the boy nodded, Michael sighed and let his head roll back onto the headrest.

“You know my dad would kill me if he found out,” Michael said, stopping at a red light.

“Cmon mike, we’re going away for college after this summer, let’s have fun and I know there's no alarm, just mega fuckin’ locks,” Steven said, taking the alcohol out of his pants and passing them back to Jeremy.

“Mira’s at the mall with y/n and kim, let’s invite them” Jeremy suggested, sitting the alcohol in the seat next to him carefully. Michael thought it over in his head, it wasn’t a bad idea but if William found out he would probably rip the piercing right out of his nose, if it didn’t he would have a great time and he knew of a way to get in without a key but this could be the last time to do this till his dad hired the security guard that he was talking about at dinner.

“Okay, okay” Michael gave in, putting his blinker on.

“maybe Kim will have weed” steven mentioned, lifting his brows.

“Probably not, her mom caught her with it right after graduation. I’ve heard her moms checking everything when she gets home and saying she won’t stop till she moves out” Jeremy sighed.

-

mira was digging through her bag as you sat on the concrete. a bubble gum sucker in your mouth, kim sat next to you and counted the money that was in her wallet.

“wow kim you really cut down on your shopping addiction” you joked and nudged her arm. kim laughed softly.

“saving up to move out” kim said, zipping up her wallet and tossing it into her small bag.

“no college?” you asked, tossing the lollipop stick onto the ground.

“don’t think it’s for me if I'm being honest, I like it here and the only college I would want to go to is out of state,” she confessed. you nodded as if you understood, but you didn’t, you wanted out of this shitty small town in the most shitty state. you wanted to get far far away and sometimes you hoped some magical person would come sweep you off your feet and save you.

“you look at any apartments?” you asked, you looked behind you at mira and she was still looking for something then you looked at kim.

“yeah, a few, there's this really cute one i looked at but it's a bit pricey” she answered with a shrug.

it was getting dark, you all came to the mall after the rush hour, not wanting to wait in lines and since it was summer everyone was there, it was the only thing to do in a town in the middle of nowhere and this was the only thing for everyone to enjoy.

music blared and you could see the signature red truck coming your way. Michael Afton and his friends, you knew Ben wasn’t with them since he was at your grandma's house three hours away helping your other aunt to move in and take care of her.

mira walked over to you and kim after finally finding her keys and wallet, she laughed as they pulled up.

it was weird how you all were connected, you all gravitated towards each other without even knowing people you all were close to had some type of connection with the other, until you all finally made the connections, jeremy was dating mira’s step brother and kim was in a relationship with michaels cousin macy while ben was on and off with steven’s sister.

michael rolled down his window and jeremy popped his head out from between the seats.

mira rolled her eyes playfully. “knew I shouldn't have told you where we were going” she laughed.

“what’s wrong with wanting to see my best friends in the world?” Jeremy acted offended. “we’re here to give you something fun to do in the town of hurricane, i think you should be begging to come with us” he added.

you laughed and looked up at mira.

“why not” you said, getting up of the concrete then helping kim up.

“meet us at freddys” steven yelled as michael started to roll his window up, mira shouted an okay before hitting the unlock button on her keys.

“that freaky animatronic place?” kim asked as you three started walking to miras car.

“maybe it will be spooky” you said, moving your fingers and making ghost sounds before getting into the car. kim laughed and rolled her eyes.

driving there didn’t take too long, the mall was a bit away from it since they wanted to put it somewhere that made it accessible for most of the town. it was fully dark out and street lights were already on.

mira parked where michael's truck was, a little ways from the pizzeria.

“about time you guys showed up” steven said as you three walked to them.

“don’t they have cameras here” you asked, the breeze gave you a chill.

“My dad took the old ones out since they kept messing up and ordered new ones so we’re good with cameras,” Michael said, easing your nerves.

“okay then why’d we have to park in the mud, its caked on my shoes, '' Kim complained.

“because my dad drives by here on his way home from my uncles” michael huffed, and walked to a spot where he could pull off the vent cover with ease.

“wait we have to crawl through that?” mira asked in disgust, jeremy rolled his eyes. “there's probably bugs in there” she added.

“is a little bug gonna stop you from a date with mr.vodka and ms.beer?” jeremy asked in a baby voice, taking out the alcohol out from the bag that sat on the ground beside him.

thankfully michael had the rest of the cups he bought for jeremy's birthday party in march in his truck, and they had stolen some pineapple juice earlier.

“well i didn’t know alcohol was involved” Mira said and got closer to the vent.

“of course alcohol was involved, we said something fun to do, not that a miracle would happen” Michael said with a breathy laugh. mira laughed and mumbled something about him being right.

“alright, this leads to parts and service and nothing blocks this duct so we should be able to get in and out easily, plus it’s not very long and it’s pretty big so no one has to worry about claustrophobia” Michael informed everyone.

you all stood in silence and looked around at each other. Michael huffed, “okay i’ll go first” he said before getting on his knees and crawled into the vent.

Michael made it inside and turned on the light before yelling for the next person.

Michael yelled out again to bring the alcohol so the last person didn’t have to worry about it.

“y/n do it with me” Mira begged, her hands clasped together.

“okay” you said, dragging out the ‘ay’ as you grabbed the bag and slid it into the vent then go in after.

you pushed the bag as you crawled, mira knew you were safe to go in with since she knew jeremy or kim would joke and say something about a bug and freak her out.

Michael helped you up then took the alcohol, you helped mira and she brushed off her clothes.

“see no bugs” Michael said with a sly smile.

“yeah see mira, Michael was the only bug you had to worry about” you quipped and shrugged your shoulders.

Michael booed you as he left the room.

-

soon you all gathered in a private party room so no one would see the lights, you all took your pick on what alcohol you wanted.

“y/n come take a shot with me” steven said loudly.

you were two shots in and took three tiny sips of mira’s vodka and pineapple drink, you guys worked with what you had and you all were lucky Michael was able to get some sodas from the vending machine.

steven poured the shots and opened a coke for a chaser. He handed it to you and started to count. your face scrunched as you swallowed and he took a sip of the coke then handed it to you.

“that was foul” you groaned and shook your head. steven nodded then took another sip from the coke.

you migrated back to mira, she was on her first beer after he vodka drink, you noted that kim took minimal sips of the one beer she had carried around the entire time, you also decided to only sip on a beer and you were barely buzzed.

-

you didn’t know how you and Michael had gotten away from everyone else but you did.

“not drinking much today mikey?” you asked, leaning on a wall next to where he was standing. you knew Michael liked to drink, you even saw him shitfaced at stevens little get together in october. you remembered how you two bickered even when he was drunk.

“someones gotta drive you know” he said, you nodded and took another sip.

“kims also holding back drinking for the same reason then?” you asked, you looked at him, his blue eyes returned the gaze.

“yeah we talked about it while i got the soda” he confirmed.

you smiled before leaning off the wall and starting to walk down the hall.

Michael followed you, “where you going rockstar?” he asked and tilted his head.

you smiled, “giving myself a tour since the heir of this pizzeria won’t” you said and shrugged, tilting your head like his.

Michael laughed, you didn't know if it was because he knew his dad would rather die than let this whole franchise be ran by someone who is not him personally or that you wanted a tour of the place.

“if you wanted to see animatronics that can sing and play instruments better than you, you should’ve just said that” Michael responded, he crossed his arms and walked to you.

you rolled your eyes, “that’s exactly why i invited you to that diner, since you’re always around great entertainment i thought you would enjoy my mediocre singing” you laughed and took a drink.

“yes i just love terrible singing and when sage knocked over those couples drinks with their guitar,” Michael said and nodded his head. you giggled and nodded.

“that was pretty funny tho” you admitted and smacked his shoulder lightly.

you walked into the pirates cove section, Michael turned on the light since there was no window in there. you moved the curtain even though it said ‘out of order’.

Michael leaned against the wall, you inhaled sharply as the fox animatronic stared back at you, your eyes wide, the stance the animatronic was in was terrifying, it looked like it could run straight out of the curtain or like it was waiting for someone to open the curtain and be right in their face.

“holy shit” you mumbled and took a step back and bumped into Michael.

“that's foxy” he said, his hand coming to your shoulder.

“no, that is freaky as fuck” you responded, looking at it made you get goosebumps.

Michael moved from behind you and closed the curtain. “Here I'll show you the old ones” he said and grabbed your hand and turned the light off before leading you out of the room.

you could hear jeremy and mira laughing and singing while kim tried to get jeremy off of the table.

he took you to the storage room, the room was filled with labeled boxes, he guided you past the shelves.

“my dad doesn’t want to retire them but uncle henry said that they need to be more ahead of their times for business plus he doesn’t think they’re safe” he said.

you stood there looking at the old bunny suit, the old yellowing suit with a bowtie, the texture looked almost like real fur and you reached your hand out to touch it.

Michael reached his hand out to stop yours.

“i wouldn’t touch it” he said, bringing your hand back but not letting go. you looked at him, he was so close to you and you honestly don't think he’s ever been this close to you during the entire frenemies relationship you have. Michael’s cologne engulfed you and it was weirdly comforting.

you furrowed your brows and he could tell you were silently asking why.

“it has springlocks in it and its probably been ready to pop since its been a while, they made it so someone could wear it or it be an animatronic on its own, they had a problem with it and moisture. i don’t want you to get hurt” michael informed you and only one sentence stood out. his hand still holding yours.

your eyes went from his to his lips then back up, was it bad that you wanted to kiss him? did he look at you like this all the time?

maybe this was what mira and kim was talking about when they would bring up yours and michaels relationship, the soft bickering and stubbornness from both parties was what you two liked to put out, it made things fun and when asked about there being more the “no michael’s a fucking dick” and “she’s a bitch” was the common response, even when you both knew that was not the case.

you sat your drink on the shelf behind you and Michael got closer, you don’t know what made you so confident, you closed the small gap and connected your lips to his.

Michaels hand moved to your waist and pushed you back softly against the shelf, he didn’t push you away which was relieving and instead welcomed it with open arms like he had been waiting, and maybe he was waiting.

your hand moved to his neck and welcomed that the kiss was getting rougher.

you were about to move your fingers into his hair, the hair he took so much pride in and messed with all the time, the same stupid mullet you gave him so much shit for and said how bad it looked when in reality it just made him look good.

a loud sound, like something heavy running made you two jump away from each other but still keep your hands on each other.

“did you hear that?” you asked and tried to look around. your heart was beating fast.

“yeah” Michael breathed out, his heart beating just as fast as yours. He pulled away from you but took ahold of your hand, you quickly grabbed your drink as you were being pulled by him.

you both looked around, you didn’t know what to look for but michael knew. he could see from the corner of his eye he could see that chica had moved and now stood in a dark corner.

“did you guys hear that?” kim asked, which made you both jump again. you both pulled your hands away from each other.

you smiled at her, “told you it would be spooky” you giggled and she rolled her eyes.

“its getting really late, we should get ready to leave.” Michael said, walking towards the private party room.

you and Michael cleaned up the room while kim got mira, jeremy and steven collected and ready to leave.

kim went out first then mira, jeremy and steven and you followed behind to make sure they got through safely. Michael did a mental check of everything before crawling out himself.

you carried the bag that had empty cups, bottles and cans and some full ones.

“im just gonna take them to mira’s house” kim said, mira gave her the keys earlier.

“i’ll take y/n” Michael yawned and ran his hands through his hair which just made it fluffier.

“i think this is the only time you two have gotten along” kim laughed, you rolled your eyes and Michael mumbled “shut up”

once you helped get mira and steven in the car kim was saying her goodbyes.

“call me when you get home” you said as you hopped into Michael's truck and put the bag in the back.

“i will, get home safe” kim said and backed out.

a few minutes into the drive you spotted the cd you gave him. you leaned over and grabbed it.

“my singing is shit but you keep my cd in your truck?” you asked with a sly smirk, you watched Michael smile and shake his head.

“there's a reason it was on the floor” he quipped and leaned back in his seat.

“oh yeah, on the floor next to your playboy” you said and held up the magazine, Michael inhaled sharply and snatched the magazine from you and tossed it into the back.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael responded and looked over at you.

you laughed and smacked his shoulder. “you can admit that you love my band, i won't tell anyone” you said.

Michael pulled into his driveway, his fathers car not there which did make him worry.

“there’s nothing to admit” he sighed, turning off the ignition.

“sure” you said, dragging it out as you undid your seatbelt.

you and michael got closer, you leaned against the center console and just when you were about to close the gap, you leaned back, smirked and shook your head.

“punishment for saying my singing is shit” you said and got out of the truck.

#micheal afton #micheal afton fnaf #fnaf micheal #micheal afton x reader #five nights at freddy’s x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton #evan afton #elizabeth afton #micheal afton deserved better #micheal afton fanfiction #michael afton fanfic #michael afton x reader #michael afton #michael afton fnaf #michael afton x you

[novelcain]

Y'all got me thinking so hard abt mafia wukong I'm dropping. Some things I've thought of in the last like five minutes for your viewing pleasure LOL feel free to ignore me or delete this I am running off like two hours of sleep

-Wukong probably holds an annual sort of, dinner for those serving directly under him. It's probably a night for information to be passed around, big terf reports to be given, that kind of thing. Only the ones that answer directly to him are invited, the ones directly under him in the hierarchy, so probably like, the DBK family if they're involved, Macaque, his inner circle, so to speak. I imagine it's held in a restaurant on their terf, or that they have control over, so it's only them being served that night.

- At these dinners everyone has a set seat. The seat to Wukong's left is always for MK and the seat to his right is always for Reader. Bad things happen if you mess with those seats!

- And gods help you when Wukong has a little too much wine to drink! He's handsy when he's stone cold sober, he's even worse when he's tipsy and/or drunk. I imagine him placing Reader in his lap at some point in the night, running his hands over every bit of them he can, leaning his cheek against their shoulder. Everyone has kind of learned to keep their mouths shut, but eventually someone is gonna have something they need to say and he's not even going to look away from Reader, carrying a conversation with his underling all while keeping his attention on Reader

- Oohhh when dinner is over and work is out of the way, it's relaxing time, everyone gets to mingle and enjoy music and drinks and to just lounge around in this space that's been procured for the meeting. Wukong makes Reader dance with him! The music is something soft and slow, sensual, and he takes them by the hand and sways to the music.

- Eventually the night comes to a close and everyone disperses. Wukong gets a little TOO handsy w Reader on the way home. Teehee.

Respectfully, anon. I refuse to ignore this as it is some delicious brain food you have given me~ 😌

First, I can't get out of my head how utterly embarrassed MK would be seeing his adoptive dad getting handsy with who he's beginning to see as his mother figure. All the while, his friends Mei and Red Son, the heirs to the Dragon of the West Triad and the Demon Bull Family Triad respectively, are teasing his and making fun of him for it. Tho Red Son shuts up about it later when his mom and dad start getting a little too drunk to keep their hands to themselves too.

I also think that with specific seating arrangements he has a special table that he likes more than all the others. I like to imagine that the business that they go to is Pigsy's Place. A restaurant that Wukong has been going to for at least a century and has been laundering money through since he helped Pigsy go from a noodle shop that he stumbled into one night at 3am while he was drunk to a full blown 5 star comfort food restaurant that's constantly booked.

Now to what you're all here for~

You've know this monkey for a while now and you know that once he starts to drink it's inevitable that he goes from his usual casual passing touches to practically dry humping you in front of everyone

Ffs the man has his hand up your dress!

You get so flustered and try to feed him food and water to help him sober up but he just keeps getting his hands on more alcohol and somehow even gets you to drink a bit as well

You two definitely end up getting frisky in the limo ride back

Mk saw that coming after jumping out the window the last time because his dad got so drunk that he forgot his son was still in the damn car and went home in Macaque's car, which Mk is driving because Macaque is past out in the passenger's seat after having a drinking contest with DBK. The winner of which was unclear.

#skittle answers #triad au #lmk triad au #triad au lmk #triad au sun wukong #lmk triad au sun wukong #triad au sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #triad au mk #lmk triad au mk #triad au macaque #triad au mei #triad au red son #triad au dbk #triad au pif #triad au pigsy #triad au world building #kinda cause some of this will be canon

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

I’d like to request a Jack fic where reader (who is a fan and is shy) and Jack go on their first date and she is nervous but Jack notices and acts all cute about it and calms her down (like I thought about the ‘don’t be anxious, I got you’ line from poison). Please and thanks. (Fluff)

DON'T BE ANXIOUS, I GOT YOU.

GENRE: fluff

A/N: I think I had this request over a month ago and I saw the same one on another writer's page, so I thought about not writing it, but in the end I decided not to read her version so that it wouldn't influence me unconsciously, and I wrote my own. I hope it doesn't bother anyone (I don't remember who the writer was anymore). All the love <3.

Looking in the mirror, you even thought about taking a pill that your friend offered you to calm you down a bit, it was from a prescription that had been prescribed for her, and she would never have offered it to you if it weren't for the situation you found yourself in now: about to go on a date with THE Jack Harlow.

The way you had met had been a bit comical, almost like a romantic comedy. Jack had given a concert in your city the day before, and you had taken the opportunity to buy merch, specifically a t-shirt, which you decided to wear the next day to go have breakfast with your friend. You never imagined that you would meet the person with the name on your shirt face to face that morning, you already imagined him in another city, inside his tour bus.

But it seemed that luck was not on your side, or maybe it was. Jack seemed delighted with your outfit decision, laughing adorably, and inviting you and your friend to his table with Urban and Neelam, whom both you and your friend pretended not to know (so that the level of fanaticism wasn't so evident).

Your luck lasted a few minutes, since Neelam received a call that made Jack have to leave, but not before apologizing a thousand times and asking for your number. he didn't give you his phone so you could write it down yourself, you thought it was a way to protect his privacy, after all, he was a celebrity. So, instead he wrote it down as you dictated it to him, and he made no attempt to hide that your contact name was "my prettiest fan".

Adding the finishing touches to your makeup, you wondered if it was really necessary to put on blush, because with this simple memory you could feel the heat spreading across your cheeks. As if life was giving you an answer, your apartment doorbell rang, leaving you with no time to add anything else to your face. Anyway, you knew you weren't going to need it.

When you opened the door, you could swear that Jack's black outfit made the blue of his eyes and the white of his smile stand out more, leaving you breathless.

"Hey," you said, on a shaky breath.

"Hey," he replied, "you look beautiful," he added, and you chuckled mentally because you knew your face was probably already pink.

"thank you" you replied shyly, "I'm ready, just let me go get my bag"

You saw him nod before running to your room and grabbing your bag, checking to see if you already had your keys, your phone, and some money (although you suspected that jack was the type of man who wouldn’t let you pay anything).

On the way to the restaurant you were making small talk about things you both were currently doing. Since Jack was driving, most of the time his gaze was glued to the road, but as soon as you got to the restaurant, you noticed that he was very observant, which made you nervous, his gaze sometimes felt like a dagger going through you, but in a good way, if that was possible. It was as if he was examining you, trying to figure out what you were thinking through eye contact. During dinner, you looked away probably a million times, and every time you did, Jack smiled.

But this last time, it was different, Jack took your hand across the table, and began to caress it with his thumb.

"You don't have to be nervous, y/n"

"is it that obvious?" you replied, even more embarrassed, but Jack thought it was adorable.

"A little," he replied, "and even though I find it very sweet, I want you to feel comfortable with me. I know that we are not in a normal situation, that since Ii'm a celebrity", he made quotation marks with the fingers of his free hand as he said the last word, "you think that maybe you have to impress me all the time for me to like you, but it's not like that." this time you looked at him, "I just want you to be yourself, really"

"I am" you replied.

"cool"

"although...the shy version of myself" you admitted, making Jack grin.

"You can be any version of yourself, as long as it's real. And I promise you the same"

"Deal" you said, freeing your hand from his caresses, and reaching out for him to shake it.

"Deal"

After that, your mind took a bit of the pressure off, making you a bit more free, even though you didn't show your full personality on this first date, there were things you wanted Jack to find out later, leaving a trail of mystery behind you. However, the shy version of yourself still accepted the little kiss on the lips that Jack gave you at the door of your house, before he watched you disappear behind it, wishing he could meet all the other versions of you soon.

#jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow request #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow masterlist

[itsgxsly]

MICHAEL’S VICTORY

Summary: When Heidi's sister attends the Australian GP with her, the drivers get into a fight to see who gets the girl's attention. What no one knows is that her heart already belongs to a certain performance coach.

Pairing: michael italiano x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1760

"are you excited?" your sister Heidi asked you.

“yes, I want to see the race. I haven't been close to the f1 environment for a long time. I miss it” you replied.

“You're going to love it, I promise. We will be comfortable in the Mclaren garage and you can see everything you want this weekend and catch up"

"Of course. I also want to see Daniel, I hope he does well on Sunday” you and the Australian had hit it off when your sister introduced you to him as her boyfriend, quickly becoming friends.

Everyone noticed the new face that was walking through the Paddock towards the Mclaren garage. And the new and beautiful girl who was next to Heidi also did not go unnoticed by the group of drivers who had stopped talking the moment they saw her walk laughing so happily next to her sister, ignoring the group of men who looked dumbfounded for her.

"Who is her?" Charles was curious about the girl.

"she's Heidi's sister, y/n, Daniel has invited them over for the weekend" Lando seemed the only one relaxed with the girl's presence. He had met her once when Daniel invited him to a dinner with friends at his house.

"I didn't know that Heidi had a sister," Carlos's Spanish voice sounded.

“Well, she's hot," Pierre said.

"Is she single?" This time it was George's voice that was heard.

“I guess so. I'm not so sure. Since I met her a year ago she has never given any indication of any relationship” Lando told them.

There were a few minutes of silence as the boys thought to themselves.

"I'm going to talk to her" Pierre was the first to take the initiative.

“No way. I saw her first,” George argued with him.

"You know that she is not the last piece of a pizza, right?" Lando defended the girl amused by the behavior of her friends.

After some discussion and some complaints from Pierre, they agreed that George and Pierre would talk to her and let her decide who she wanted to go out with. Carlos, Charles and Lando laughed at the stupidity of their two friends. If only they knew the surprise that awaited them.

You were on the outside of the Mclaren garage carefully observing everything that was happening with the cars and seeing many fans swarming through the stands. You had wanted to leave Daniel and Heidi alone, not wanting to be the third wheel. You had been looking for a certain performance coach, but Daniel told you that he would arrive around the time of the second practice, so you gave up. As you enjoyed your moment of solitude, your trance was broken by a throat clearing from your side. You turned to look, spotting a tall man wearing a Mercedes T-shirt.

“Hello” you greeted him first.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, I'm George. It's just that I've seen that you're alone and I didn't recognize your face. Have you ever been to a race?” you were surprise for the question.

"Don’t worry, you don't bother me. I've been to a few races but it was years ago. I'm y/n, by the way.” You politely held out your hand for him to shake.

"It's a pleasure" George saw Pierre in the distance motioning to his wrist, indicating that his conversation time was up "Again I'm sorry if I bothered you, now I'm going to have to leave, my team will need me soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you, y/n, I hope to see you again” he reluctantly said goodbye to you.

“It has also been a pleasure George. Don't worry, you haven't bothered me, thanks for the conversation.” With a nod, the Brit trotted off to where the rest were, giving Pierre a shove for hurrying him up.

Later that morning you were sitting on the terrace of Mclaren's hospitality having a drink while checking your social media. Suddenly, something covered the light sun that hit your face, making you look at that obstacle. You were met by the sight of a muscular man looking at you with bright blue eyes, a charming smile playing on his face when you looked at him.

“Sorry if I bother you, do you mind if I sit down?” He pointed to the chair across from you.

That confused you a bit, considering he didn't seem to have anything to do with Mclaren and there were more empty seats, but you didn't mean to be rude, so you nodded with a soft smile.

“I'm Pierre, I drive for Alpha Tauri” he introduced himself. Then you recognized the logo on his white polo shirt.

"I’m y/n" your answer seemed a little dry, but you were still confused and a little amused as to what he might want.

“It’s a pleasure y/n. What is a beautiful woman like you doing here alone?” You wanted to laugh at his horrible attempt at flirting, but you kept your composure a bit and just smirked a little.

“I have come with my sister, Daniel has invited us. I wanted to leave them alone for a while so I came here”

"I could keep you company while you wait for them if you want." The French accent echoed in hi voice as he spoke. Even though you had to admit he was handsome, you weren't looking for anything from anyone.

Before you could reply, a voice sounded from behind you.

“y/n” you recognized Daniel's voice. “I finally found you. The first practice will start soon, Heidi is looking for you to see it together” you looked at your watch to see that it was true that P1 would start soon.

You got up and gave Pierre a smile and a quick goodbye, and followed Daniel on his way to where you would see your sister. Pierre got up with a disgusted face going to where George, along with Lando, Carlos and Charles laughed at his failed attempt.

The first test was over a while ago, and you had enjoyed it like a little girl. Now you were getting impatient. You were expecting Michael to arrive before second practice as Daniel had told you, when the same two men who showed up this morning, George and Pierre, you remembered, approached you. You smiled politely, having already been warned by Lando of the two drivers' intention to ask you out. You had found their arrogance amusing to think that you would say yes to any of them. But you still didn't tell them anything.

"Hello again" you spoke when you were facing them.

"Hello, beautiful," George spoke before Pierre could. You wanted to laugh at both of them so much for their stupid fight.

"We have a proposition for you," George continued.

"Oh yeah?" You acted surprised.

"Yes. You are beautiful and we wanted to know if you would like to have a date with any of us, totally at your choice” a giggle escaped from your throat at the arrogance and confidence of the two, knowing that it would not last long.

“Look guys, I'm really honored, but-” You had to cut the sentence short when you noticed two strong arms and a warm body hugging you from behind. You recognized Michael's colony at the moment. You saw Pierre and George turn a little pale and watched how Lando and Daniel laughed quietly in a corner of the garage.

You dropped your weight a little on your boyfriend's body watching the conversation continue.

"Hi baby. I missed you.” You knew that Michael had ignored the two boys on purpose, his tone innocent but jealous of him telling him off. You turned your head to look at him and Michael took the opportunity to gently kiss your lips. All under the watchful eye of the two Alpha Tauri and Mercedes drivers, who had their jaws almost on the ground.

"Guys, I had not seen you there. You were already leaving, right? The second practice is about to start, you don't want to be late” his voice sounded rhetorical and a bit threatening although his face show a friendly smile.

Pierre and George only nodded before leaving the garage, in the background the laughter of Daniel and Lando with the fright of their friends.

"Hey baby" you turned completely to look at Michael's face, having to raise your head.

"Hello my love" his tone was much sweeter when he talked to you. You moved closer to kiss properly this time, Michael's hands squeezing your waist and yours caressing the back of his neck. When you parted ways, you couldn't help but comment.

"You were jealous" you were clear and concise.

"I wasn't," he refuted you.

“Yes you were. Recognize it”

“I wasn't jealous. I just don't like it when those two kids look at you like that."

“It's nonsense. You know I'm not interested in anyone but you” you calmed him down. You were both aware of what you meant to each other.

"I know, I know. I love you so much” you loved the sound of those words coming out of his mouth.

When you went to kiss him again, Daniel had to interrupt as usual.

"Lovebirds, I'm sorry to break your lovely moment, but practice is starting and I need my performance coach with me."

Michael sighed letting his head fall on your shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him" he said.

"Don’t do it. Remember that we met thanks to him”

“I hope that gives me the strength not to kill him if he interrupts us again”

You gave each other one last sweet peak before he ran off to where Daniel was, giving his friend a smack in the head. You shook your head smiling before going to look for your sister.

Meanwhile, George, Carlos, Pierre and Charles had seen the entire scene from afar.

"They make a cute couple," Charles commented.

"yes, I did not imagine Michael like this for a woman" Carlos agreed with his teammate.

"I'm going to kill Lando for not telling us before" Pierre was still a little pale.

"Look on the bright side, at least he hasn't beaten us up for hitting on his girlfriend." George wanted to be positive.

"I guess we can call that a small victory for us," Pierre agreed. "Although the real victory belongs to Michael with that woman by his side" everyone agreed with the Frenchman's words. They ended the conversation with that comment before everyone split up to get ready.

#michael italiano x reader #formula 1 #f1 weekend #australian gp 2022 #daniel ricciardo #heidi berger #michael italiano #lando norris #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #george russell #george russell x reader

[karahalloway]

Sleepless in New York: Epilogue - Into The Night

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: On the long-dreaded night of the Masquerade Ball, Drake has a revelation...

Word Count: 4,600

Rating/Warnings: M (angst, way too many f-bombs, drinking, references to drug-use, fluffy fluff fluff)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: This is my slightly belated submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event I got this out as fast as I could! The prompt that this fits is '31 - You don’t know me and I promise I’m not a creepy stalker but...' and possibly this one:

A/N2: I have no clue how many people actually listen to the chapter theme songs for these fics, but if you have time, I highly encourage you to listen to this one! I dredged it from the depths of my Middle School memories because I realised that it was perfect for this chapter (in my head, if Sleepless were a movie/TV show, this is the song that would play as the end credits song).

Epilogue - Into The Night

"You okay?"

I shoot a scoff across the room. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You could," Chris concedes, meeting my eye through the full-length mirror as he adjusts a cuff. "But I am not the one who has been staring into that whiskey glass for the past ten minutes."

"Speak for yourself," I reply, quickly draining what's left of my drink. "You've been eyeing up your reflection for the past fifteen."

"I just want to make a good first impression, is all..." he admits while obsessing over the gold aiguillette draped across his jacket.

"Isn't that what the job of the so-called ladies?" I ask dryly, dropping the now empty glass back onto the bar cart.

"I am certain they will be pulling out all the stops," he sighs, smoothing his already immaculate hair down. "But, given the occasion, it is only fair that I reciprocate."

"Well, short of emergency Botox, I think you've more than crossed that T."

Chris snaps his head around in bewilderment. "Pardon me?"

I shrug apathetically. "You're fast approaching thirty, buddy. And those crow's feet aren't doing you any favours."

He quirks a brow at me. "I think you'll find that they are laugh lines..."

"Now you're just splitting grey hairs, old man..."

Chris bursts out laughing. "Speak for yourself, Drake! You were born three months before me!"

"True," I concede. "But unlike you, I ain't got no wrinkles."

His mouth pulls into a knowing smirk. "Only because you hide them under all that unkept facial hair!"

"You should try it sometime," I riposte, running my hand suggestively over the bristles on my jaw.

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "I must've done something very wrong at some point for you to be my best friend..."

I spread my arms. "Hey. I'm just here to keep you humble."

Chris scoffs. "Yes. By reminding me that I'm fast approaching middle age..."

"It took your mind off the Ball, didn't it?"

"Yes," he concedes after a pause. "I suppose it did."

"Not just a hat rack, my friend," I grin with a tap on my temple. "But seriously. You look great. Warts and all."

A wan smile ghosts his lips. "Thanks, mate. You don't look too shabby yourself."

I glance down at the black tux that I'm wearing. "Yeah. Well... Given the occasion, I figured I should make some kind of effort as well."

"You know you don't have to dress up on my account... I know how much you dislike donning evening wear."

"Tell that to the prick who put 'black tie' on the invite..."

Chris chuckles. "That would be my father."

"Figures..." I say with a roll of my eyes. "He's got more dinner jackets than you can shake a stick at."

"A necessity when you are a king, I'm afraid..." Chris reminds me. "But at least it isn't a white tie 'do."

"Oh, sweet Jesus..." I groan, remembering the last royal event that I had to subject myself to in a bow tie and matching waistcoat. "I was sweating like a priest in a brothel strapped up in that monkey suit."

"It certainly did not help that the air conditioning system had been broken..."

"In the middle of a heatwave..." I add. "With five hundred people packed into a room."

"Yes, that Venice trip certainly was memorable."

"For all the wrong reasons," I grunt sourly. "I somehow managed to get food poisoning as well."

"I remember," nods Chris sympathetically. "But at least you missed the terrible opera."

"Honestly, I would've traded that hellhole of a night for an entire week's worth of bad arias..." I grumble. "I definitely got the short end of the stick in that trade."

"You only say that because you do not know what it is to sit through four hours of off-key yodelling," Chris says with grimace.

"No," I admit solemnly. "Because I always bring earplugs."

Chris' eyes widen. "And you never thought to share them?"

"Doesn't really work if you only block one ear..."

Chris rewards my factual clap-back with a shove. "You are a sod, you know that right?"

"Thought that was old news," I reply with a grin, dodging out of the way.

"And yet you nevertheless continue to raise the bar..."

"Hey," I wink as I reverse my way back to the bar cart. "I have high standards."

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "You're impossible."

"Thought I was a sod," I quip over my shoulder as I refill both our glasses.

"An impossible sod," accedes Chris wryly as he slips on his monogrammed Breitling.

"Just so we're clear..." I smirk as I retrace my steps to offer him one of the tumblers.

"Thanks," he acknowledges, taking the heavy crystal. "What shall we toast to?"

I think for a second. "How 'bout blind, dumb luck?"

Chris lifts a brow. "That's a new one."

"Seems to be in short supply of late," I tell him, raising my glass.

"Very true," he agrees. "To Lady Luck, then! May she bestow her golden smile upon us once again!"

"'Cause we could all do with a fuckin' break," I add dryly, clinking my glass against his.

Chris brings the gin to his mouth with a laugh. "Did we not just have one?"

"Not all of us," I remind him, throwing my refill back.

"Well, we'll need to make sure you take some time in lieu, then."

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "I'll just chalk it up as overtime."

Chris chuckles. "At the rate you're going, you'll soon have more overtime on the books than regular time."

"Yeah, well..." I shrug. "Shit needs doing. But I'm planning on dropping off the grid for a couple of weeks once the Bash is behind us."

"Take a whole month," Chris advises, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. "You will have more than earned it by then."

I scoff. "I can't just—"

He firms up his grip. "I insist."

Lifting my gaze, I find his clear, emerald eyes locking me down.

I huff out a low breath. "Fine. I'll think about it."

"That is the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

"Yep," I tell him with a slap on his arm. "Now, hop to it, Cinderella — your ball awaits."

"Yes, I suppose we best get on," he concedes, depositing his empty glass on a side table. "Would be rude to turn up late for my own party..."

Turning on his heel, he strides determinedly towards the door of his suite. The footman stationed by the wall quickly grabs the latch and pulls the door back.

"Here we go..." I mutter under my breath as I drop my tumbler off as well and follow after him.

This is it. The start of the slow, downward skid towards the inevitable. The beginning of the end.

Because tonight's ball kicks off not just the months-long circus that is the social season, but the countdown to Chris' coronation as well.

As despite all the official interviews and press releases, it's no secret within the Palace that Constantine is living on borrowed time. His pancreatic cancer had been diagnosed too late, and even with vigorous treatment, it had spread. And even based on the most optimistic outlook, chances are good that he won't make it to Christmas.

Which is why New York — by necessity — had been such a whirlwind tour. Because any day could end up being the old bastard's last, and Chris has to be ready to step up to the plate at a moment's notice. Not that he isn't already running the country in all but name... It just isn't official yet.

But that's why the race to find the next Queen is exactly that — a high-stakes time-trial where the clock is against everyone.

Especially Chris.

Because if Constantine's condition takes a sudden turn for the worse, Chris may not get the luxury of choice. As some dumbass had had the bright idea a few centuries ago to enact a law that states that Cordonian monarchs must be married or engaged at the time of their coronation. Which means that Chris' hand could end up being forced by circumstances — and selfish interests — outside his control.

So, we better pray that he finds someone, and fast. Or that the doctors are wrong. Ideally both.

Otherwise, we're gonna be up the proverbial creek without a paddle, hurtling down the rapids of a constitutional crisis that could very literally tear the kingdom apart.

"Well... This is it," declares Chris as we arrive at the doors of the ballroom.

"Yep," I agree over the soft hubbub of gossip and classical music that's seeping out into the ante-room we're standing in. "Last chance to cut and a run."

"I am honestly considering it," he admits with a shaky laugh as the footmen prepare to open the double-height doors.

"Hey," I say, stepping in front of him. "If you need a time out—"

He shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" I ask, fixing him with a critical eye as I wave at the staff to hold their horses.

"Yes," he nods determinedly. "Just... Just some last-minute nerves, is all."

"Understandable," I concede. "There are only about a dozen girls on the other side of that door waiting to throw themselves at you."

He eyes the barrier uneasily. "I suppose I should feel flattered..."

"...but you're seriously thinking about jumping off the balcony."

He bites out a strangled laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"You never could beat me at poker."

"Shit..." he mutters, running an agitated hand down his face.

"Hey," I say, clamping my hands onto his shoulders to make him look at me. "It's a fucked up situation. I get it. Your dad's got one foot in the grave, you're trying to run a country, and the last thing you want to do is play Royal Bachelor in front of all these tossers. But you need a Queen. And the season's your best bet at finding one."

"But how will I know which is the one?"

"You won't," I admit. "Until you do."

Christ knows Gale struck me like white lightning out of the blue...

His lips curve into a ghost of a smile. "Blind, dumb luck..."

"Blind, dumb luck," I confirm, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Chris heaves a low exhale. "Here's to chance, then."

"Knock 'em dead, buddy," I say with a grin as I step back.

Chris lines himself up in front of the entranceway again. The footmen reach for the handles as the herald takes his position.

I give everyone the go.

The double doors swing open, and the herald clears his voice.

The music and the hubbub come to an abrupt halt as every neck in the room cranes around with unfettered interest.

"Preeesenting His Royal Highness, the Duke of Applewood!"

Chris squares his shoulders and lifts his head. And just like that, the man disappears and in his place stands the Prince — cool, composed, collected — any wayward reservations masked behind the diplomatic smile he's been practising since the age of three.

The crowd parts...

...and with one final inhale, Chris steps over the threshold and the doors close behind him.

A breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding explodes out of me.

Phase 1 — check.

Now to try and get through the remainder of the ball without any front-page scandals, culinary clusterfucks, or assassination attempts upsetting the carefully staged high-society apple cart.

Because I hadn't been joking earlier when I'd said we could all do with a fuckin' break. The media storm kicked up by Leo's abdication was still raging in full force through the pages of the tabloids, and it's only gonna be a matter of time before the paps get wind of Constantine's condition.

Which is why it's so critical that tonight's event goes off without a hitch. As the royal family — Chris especially — is in desperate need of a publicity uplift before the coronation... and the funeral.

And it's my job to quarterback while Bastien coordinates from the command centre.

So, I need to be especially on it tonight. As we can't afford any cock-ups.

Spinning on my heel, I make my way towards the closest side-door as I activate the hidden mic clipped to my jacket. "Falcon has flown, over."

"Confirmed," comes the crackled sound of Bastien's voice over the comms. "Blue Team — do you have eyes on Falcon?"

"We have eyes on Falcon, over," affirms Marquez.

"Walker, you're clear to take up secondary position, over."

"Roger that, over."

I feel my shoulders relax slightly as I reach the end of the service corridor.

So far, so good.

Just need to stay focused for the next six-or-so hours, and make sure that nothing goes sideways.

Opening the white-washed door in front of me, I slip into the ballroom near the back of the royal dais. Clicking the latch closed softly behind me, I catch sight of Constantine.

He's dressed to the nines in full royal regalia, patent oxfords polished to within an inch of their life. But the carefully coordinated window dressing can't hide the fact that the old man is a shadow of his former self.

His cheeks are sunken, his greying hair is sparse, and despite the carefully applied make-up, his skin lacks the usual vigour of health.

But I gotta hand it to the man. Despite his failing health, he's out here tonight. Putting on a united front for the sake of the kingdom — for the sake of his son — to make sure that the royal show goes on. Even if it fucking kills him.

Because that's the price of duty.

And regardless of his other failings — of which there are many — you have to respect him for that, if nothing else.

He spots me out of the corner of his periphery. "Drake..."

"Sir," I acknowledge with a respectful nod, coming to a stop.

"I trust everything is under control?"

"Yessir."

He eyes me for a moment before leaning back into his upholstered chair. "Let's ensure that it stays that way."

Knowing a dismissal when I hear one, I resume my path around the perimeter, scanning the crowd as I walk, always keeping at least one eye on Chris.

Because Constantine's direction had been clear.

Don't fuck up.

Not that I plan to.

I learnt my lesson the hard way in New York about taking my eyes off the ball. And like hell am I gonna—

"Managed to find a new shirt, I see..."

I freeze. No fuckin' way.

I must've imagined it. A trick of the space... A wayward echo... An auditory illusion.

But if that's true, then who the hell is standing behind me? Eyes locked onto my back like a laser-sight? Their familiar scent tickling my nose?

Camomile with a hint of honey.

I shake my head, trying to rejig my senses.

It doesn't work.

Which leaves me with just one option.

Steeling myself, I turn slowly around, part of me convinced that I've well and truly lost the plot, part of me 'bout ready to believe in miracles.

Because that voice... Here? That's just not possible. Unless there was something in that whiskey and I'm tripping major ballsacks right now.

Wouldn't be the first time Max pulled a stunt like that...

But as I complete the about-face, it quickly becomes clear that I ain't just obviously high — I've lost my motherfuckin' mind completely.

That, or a bomb has just gone off in the ballroom and I'm now stood at the Gates of Heaven, about to receive final judgement.

Because I can think of no other scenario that would explain why she's here, in front of me, wrapped in a shimmering, floor-length white dress that clings to her curves like wisps of a dream, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"But I guess you can't show up at a place like this in cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans, huh?"

The soft lilt of her voice slices through me like a boot knife. "Harp—"

I make the mistake of catching her eye.

And whatever semblance of rationale thought I may have had left dissolves instantly in the sparkle of her hazel-green gaze.

The crowd... The Schubert... The entire fucking kingdom crashes into inconsequence as I feel my already tenuous grip on reality slip, leaving me stranded on the twilight edge of reason, struggling for breath.

How—?

I have no clue how long I stand there, rooted to the spot like a vegetate stoner as I try — and fail — to make sense of what the actual fuck is happening.

Because this shit? It sure as hell ain't real.

"...Drake?"

The sound of her voice finally unglitches my brain.

I blink.

But she's still there. Staring at me. Like an unabating hallucination with a bad sense of humour.

With concerted effort, I force myself to choke out the only salient question. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

"You left your jackets behind and—"

My jaw drops. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Who — in their right mind — chases someone halfway around the world? Because of a goddamn jacket?

Nobody. That's who.

The girl's obviously crazy.

Her smile falters slightly. "I thought I'd surprise you..."

"Yeah. Well, I hate surprises," I cut in acerbically, still trying to process this shitshow.

"Yes," she snips, hazel eyes hardening. "That much is becoming clear!"

"What the fuck did you expect, Gale?" I hit back. "That I'd just—?"

"I don't know what I was expecting!" she snaps, the force of her annoyance propelling her forward as she flings an arm out. "But it sure as hell wasn't this!"

"Well, that makes two of us," I bite out, suddenly finding myself nose-to-nose with her. "Because I would've expected a fucking heads-up!"

Her eyes narrow. "Do you know how many Drake Walkers there are online?"

I feel my jaw clench. "What the hell does that—?"

"Over a hundred!" she shouts into my face... loud enough for a few nearby aristos to turn their heads. "And none of them are you!"

I grab her by the arm. "So, you just decide to jump on a plane and—?"

"Yes! Because it's not like I had your number, either, Walker," she continues forcefully, jabbing me in the chest. "Because you just left and—"

"You fucking think I don't know that!" I yell back, the inherent accusation of her words ripping away the last vestiges of my sanity.

Several more heads to turn.

But I don't give a shit.

Because I can't seem to think straight around this girl on the best of days. Let alone when she springs herself on me like some damn jack-in-the-box — for the third fuckin' time just as many days — leaving me slap-faced and scrambling, and then accuses me of being an asshole?

Like fuck am I gonna act rational...

...also, why the hell does she have to look so damn good in that dress?

She's glaring up at me, chest heaving. "This was obviously a bad idea..."

I scoff humourlessly, her face inches from mine. "No fucking shit."

Her body tenses... but in the next instant the fight goes out of her just as fast as it ignited. Dropping her gaze, she mutters, "Glad we got that cleared up..."

There's something in her tone that I can't quite place.

But my burnt-out brain is too slow at cottoning on, and before I have a chance to figure it out, she's spun out of my grasp and I'm left holding nothing but air...

"Harp—"

...but by the time I look up, she's already turned and vanished into the crush.

Shit.

That obviously came out wrong.

But what the fuck had she been thinking? For me to just throw my hat over the moon like some star-struck moron? To sweep her off her feet and kiss her like we were in a goddamn rom-com?

I catch sight of the flash of her honey-caramel hair halfway across the room.

Crap.

That's exactly what I should've done.

Ignoring every single warning light going off in my head — she's not been vetted, she didn't have an invite, how the fuck did she even find me? — I throw myself after her.

Because as pissed off as I am that she was able to get the jump on me like she did — someone's sure as shit getting fired for that — I can't deny the fact that I'm still a complete and utter fool for her.

And the thought of her walking out on me — like I'd walked out on her — hits worse than a bullet to the gut.

"Harper!" I shout, pushing through the crowd of beady-eyed onlookers to try and get to her, much to their undisguised disgust.

"Oi, watch it, you!"

"C'est intolérable!"

"Do you know who I am!"

But if she hears me over the growing furore, she doesn't stop.

"For fuck's sake..." I grunt under my breath as I momentarily lose sight of her in the sea of heads.

This girl's going to be the death of me.

But if I'm going to have any chance of catching her, I know I need a change of strategy.

Spinning on my heel, I cut a hard and fast path back to the edge of the ballroom, spilling more than a few fancy drinks in the process as I knock aristos out of the way like bowling pins.

Heedless of the chaos left in my wake, I burst out onto the periphery of the crush. Throwing myself into a sprint back towards the tail end of the room, I bump off anyone stupid enough to get in my way.

I'm not losing her again.

Rushing past the raised dais, I see Constantine turn his head in my direction...

...but I've blown past him before he has a chance to open his mouth.

Sliding to a haphazard stop in front of the wall, I pause for just long enough to wrench the hidden door open before hurling myself down the service corridor.

Rushing past doors and junctions on my left and right, I pull up a mental blueprint of the Palace, trying to extrapolate her most likely position based on her speed and prior trajectory, and cross-reference that against how fast I'm going to determine the best option for an interception.

There. The main foyer.

Skidding around a corner, I double-time it down the narrow passageways, praying and hoping that I've been able to make up for time lost in the ballroom.

Arriving at the exit point, I throw myself against the door — nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process — and crash back out into the Palace-proper...

...but I can't see her anywhere.

"Fuck!" I cuss, running an agitated hand through my hair as I spin around.

Maybe I miscalculated. Maybe she's already gone. Maybe—

"Ooph!"

I collide bodily with someone speeding around the corner from the opposite direction, their head smacking into my jaw.

Agony shoots through my mouth as the unexpected impact causes me to bite down on my tongue.

Motherfucker!

But the sharp sting of the pain doesn't stop my body from reacting. If anything, it kicks my training into gear. Moving more on instinct than anything else, I execute a targeted sidestep to realign my centre as my hand snaps out to grab the other person by the arm to stop them from falling backwards.

Using their weight as a fulcrum, I redirect the force of our momentum into a spin to bring both of us to a stop next to the wall.

"You okay?" I ask, peering down at the panting, hot mess in my arms.

Gale snaps her head up so fast she nearly breaks my nose as well. "How the hell did you get in front of me?"

"Trade secret," I tell her.

She lays into me. On the exact same spot she hit me last night.

"Christ!" I exclaim, reeling back. "What the hell was that—?"

"For being an asshole!" she decries, hitting me again.

"Asshole?" I scoff. "You fucking ran into me!"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have done if you hadn't been such a jerk, Walker!" she shouts, smacking me again.

"What do you want, then?" I demand, catching her wrist. "A goddamn apology?"

Her eyes blaze. "It would be a damn good st—"

Fuck it.

Giving her wrist a hard tug, I use the inherent resistance in her arm to yank her forward. And before she has a chance to object, I've crashed my lips against hers.

I hear her suck in a sharp breath of surprise before her body suddenly softens, melting against mine with a sigh as she gives into me.

The scent of her wildflower perfume subsumes me as she throws an arm around my neck, and I'm — at long last — home.

Because it's not until this moment that I realise how much I fucking missed her. Even though I barely know her, and I have no clue how... or even if we can make this — whatever this is — work, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was a monumental idiot for not going back to find her in New York...

...for the fact that I walked out on her in the first place.

Because this girl? She's unlike anything I've ever seen before.

The sheer fact that she's here — despite all the myriad-and-one ways in which I've screwed up with her — proves that.

And I'll be damned if I'll find another like her.

"Harper... I'm sorry," I pant between kisses, reaching up to cup her face in my palms. "For being an asshole... for being a jerk... for getting you fired... for hurting you... for—"

"I'm sorry, too..." she gasps, gripping my hair as my lips skate down her neck. "I didn't mean to... freak you out... like that... and I should've—"

"How did you even get here?" I ask, spinning her around to press her up against the wall behind me.

"Leo," she moans, arching up towards me as I drop a hand down to her ass, pulling her back into me. "He came to the apartment and—"

I scoff as I capture her mouth again. "Un-fuckin'-real..."

I'm gonna murder the bastard.

Because if this is his batshit way of saying 'thank you' for me being here for Chris instead of him, then he's definitely more than one brick shy of a load.

As regardless of whatever kind of happy reunion he'd cooked up in his mind, there's only one possible outcome to this royal SNAFU — me losing my job. Because there's no way in hell that Bast will be able to overlook the fact that I deserted my post to chase after a girl.

Again.

As unlike last time, there are a good two-dozen witnesses who can throw me under the bus. And they'll do so with impunity, given half a chance. Because one of those witnesses is Constantine. And no way is he gonna let such a flagrant dereliction of duty fly. Especially not after the very clear command he gave me.

Plus, it's not like I can justify my behaviour with any kind of rational argument. Or swear on a stack of Bibles that I won't do it again.

I'd tried that in New York.

It hadn't worked.

But as I glance down at Gale's flushed face, one thing is crystal clear.

I'll deal with that shit in the morning...

~ Fin ~

A/N: This is it! We have arrived at the end! 🤗 Thank you so much for bearing with me over the course of this fic, which has been 2 long years in the making! Hopefully, the journey was worth it! There will be some Extras in the near future (art, a bonus chapter), but no ETA on any of these yet (too many other WIPs I want/need to finish). Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog, comment, emote, and generally encourage me through this project! I - for one! - have certainly grown to love Drake more as a result! 🥰 Hope you have too!

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890

Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits: Harper - Cordonia - Drake - Constantine - Kiss - Christian

#drake walker #harper gale #sleepless in new york #the royal romance #trr au #choicesprompts #flufftober 2023

[devilstruly]

love-shot

tsukishima kei x fem! reader

summary: basically your wingman and bsf akiteru

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

You have been friends with Tsukishima Akiteru for as long as you can remember. He was actually a good friend of your brother's. They were in the same class in elementary school, played on the same volleyball team, and enrolled Karasuno High School together. Akiteru would come over a lot to hang out with your brother while you always tried to stay out of their way. On the contrary, Akiteru was nice enough to try becoming your friend as well. He succeeded of course - the age gap forgotten for most of the time that you and him spent together. He was like a second big brother and best friend in one and you deeply appreciated him for it.

And then you met his brother.

Tsukishima Kei. The ultimate pain in the ass. He was as egoistic as he was tall and he never even bothered to speak to anyone unless it was a life or death situation.

You have tried everything, everything, to get close to Tsukishima. Talking to him during practice, asking about Akiteru, how school was, offering help, literally anything. He just seemed so - people repellent. His answers were always short and vague and his monotone voice was driving you insane. It seemed like the only person he actually conversed with was Yamaguchi Tadashi. Who you've actually made great friends with, so ha! Point Y/N.

You met him in your second year of High School, when he started attending Karasuno and applied for the volleyball club. Daichi had given you the forms to look over and when you saw his name you were beyond excited. Akiteru's brother! What could possibly go wrong?

You haven't given up though, in fact, Tsukishima had started talking to you on his own. But it was mainly to call you short and call you out on doing a shitty job as a club manager. Very kind of him.

He annoyed you to the point where you started calling Akiteru at least once a week to complain. Then twice a week. Then every other day. Then every day. Eventually he just invited you to his place to give you a place to vent since your brother went to Tokyo for college.

'He's so rude! Like- he's always making comments about my 'managing' and how I'm incapable. And I'm sorry to say it but nobody on the team besides Yamaguchi likes him!'

Akiteru let out a sigh as he poured the two of you some coffee while you paced around his kitchen angrily.

'Yeah...can't say I'm surprised'

You let out a frustrated groan for the fifth time in the last ten minutes before plopping down on a chair beside the counter.

'And it's not like I haven't tried being friends! I have been nice! His conversation skills are terrible! And he doesn't want to talk to anyone!'

'Alright hold that thought I'm just gonna go see if he's okay with pizza for dinner'

He put down the coffee in front of you and patted your shoulder before walking towards his brother's room. He was about to knock on the door until he heard Tsukishima's irritated voice speaking a mile an hour.

'I don't know Tadashi! She's just! I don't know! She's a friend of my brother's it's weird! But she's also nice to me even though I have no idea how to talk to her properly!'

Akiteru had to resist the urge to laugh as he listened in on his brother's problems, patiently waiting until he hung up to reveal himself.

'Girl trouble?'

Tsukishima flinched from his spot on the bed and scoffed. 'Excuse me?' Unfortunately for him, the blush on his face didn't go unnoticed by his brother, who looked like he just made a scientific discovery that would get him a Nobel prize.

'There there little bro, Y/N is a great girl nothing to be ashamed of'

'Wh-what are you talking about! I don't like your stupid friend! Get out of my room already!'

Akiteru laughed. He laughed in his brother's red face before smiling mischievously.

The next few weeks have been weird as hell. Tsukishima would greet you with a good morning every day, he stopped commenting on your work and even gave you compliments (very rare though). You called Akiteru to check if you hadn't fallen in an alternative universe by any chance but he just said that his brother has had 'a change of heart' recently. Whatever that meant.

You weren't complaining though, Tsukishima's snide remarks haven't ceased but now it was meant in a light hearted way. He started walking with you to class and practice, and the two of you even shared a few jokes here and there.

After a few weeks have passed, it was safe to say you two have formed a bond. Waiting for each other has become a routine, and he even let you hug him after a lot of convincing.

On one particularly stary night, Tsukishima was walking you home after a late meeting with coach Ukai while you hummed something to yourself. A gust of wind blew out of nowhere and you shivered from the sudden sensation.

'Jeez where did that come from'

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the action not going unnoticed. Tossing his hoodie over your head he kept walking to hide his blush while you struggled under the fabric.

'Wh- rude!'

'You're gonna get cold dumbass. Put it on'

'I'm fine!'

You protested as you caught up to him, already taking of the hoodie to return it.

'Ugh. Can you just not be stubborn for once?'

'Oh like you care'

You giggled as he stopped adjusting the piece of clothing hugging your form and his expression shifted. 'I do care' You giggled once again with a content sigh and peered up at him from his hoodie.

'I know I was teasing. You're such a cute tsundere ~'

'A what- actually forget it I don't wanna know. Let's just get you home'

'You've been oddly caring these days Tsukki ~'

He merely scoffed as you clung to his arm and poked his cheek while walking.

'If I didn't know better I'd say you have a crush on me ~'

To your surprise, Tsukishima stopped in his tracks, refusing to look at you.

'Hm?'

Silence.

'Tsukki what's wrong?'

Deep breath.

'I do'

'What?'

He turned his body towards you as his eyes found yours.

'I have a crush on you'

You stared up at him perplexed. He was about to turn away and deny everything hadn't it been for you pulling him down for a kiss.

'I have a crush on you too'

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima headcanons #haikyuu drabbles

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: The Universe Must Have Divined This

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Season 3 AU 

Summary: As a thank you for saving his life, Ari invites Nikita over. Things escalate.

Author's Note: Soft, domestic Nikari (who also happen to be completely hot for one another) is my favorite Nikari. Also this fic marks the start of me including other characters from Nikita in more than a passing mention.

On AO3

The Universe Must Have Divined This

                  “It shouldn’t be this difficult to pick out a dress,” Nikita Mears muttered under her breath as she held up her sixth option for inspection. 

                  It a was a rich, dark purple in color – the tone of royalty, she had read once – with a sweetheart neckline and flared skirt that she knew would accentuate her athletic form nicely. Yet: something about the choice still felt off. 

                  “I’m telling you, go with the blue one,” Alexandra Udinov barely looked up from her magazine.               

                  “You think?” Nikita cast a glance at the mentioned garment, which was spread out on her bed. “It’s not too provocative?” Unlike the one that she held; the dress her friend had mentioned was cut from clingy fabric of an aquamarine shade. The neckline dipped into a steep vee, which would show off her cleavage, and there would be little left to the imagination about her curves given how tight it was. 

                  “Somehow, I doubt he’s going to mind, or that it’s going to remain on for more than five minutes.”

                  At the remark, Nikita blushed considerably. “Alex! Ari invited me over for dinner as a thank you for saving him! It’s a professional courtesy.”

                  “Uh-huh,” Alex raised a skeptical brow. “Was it also professional courtesy when he stuck his tongue down your throat during your last mission?”

                  The ex-assassin froze. No one knew about what had happened except for her and Ari. 

                  She squared her shoulders and attempted to act casual. “You have a very vivid imagination Alex, but that’s all it is.”

                  And yet; her mind immediately drifted back to what had, in fact, happened. She could recall with perfect clarity the way Ari’s mouth had felt against hers – soft, attentive, utter perfection. She remembered the surprising strength he possessed: lifting her up as though she’d weighed nothing and carrying her to the closest place so they could have privacy. 

                  Her heart rate jumped while she mentally revisited their tryst, her features flushing at the memory of clothing being pushed aside but not fully removed, of how forbidden it had all felt, but at the same time – like fate had meant for them to be.

                  Clearly, Ari had assumed he was on borrowed time and thrown caution to the wind, but it didn’t change the fact that what had occurred was more than just physical attraction. 

                  And once she’d saved him by putting a bullet through his shoulder to stop the one that would have pierced his heart, Nikita knew that what she and Ari were to each other had changed dramatically.

                  She was so lost in reverie that she didn’t realize Alex was now standing in front of her with a very excited expression. 

                  “I knew it! Something did happen between you two! Birkoff owes me a hundred bucks!”

                  This snapped Nikita back to reality. “You were betting on us?”

                  “Do you know how rare it is for that man to lose a bet?” Alex crossed her arms and tapped one foot impatiently. “Now, tell me everything.”

                  There was an admitted relief to no longer keeping the truth hidden. While she didn’t go into explicit detail, Nikita was honest with Alex about the incident.

                  Her former protégé allowed her to tell the whole story before she asked the question that was already weighing heavily on Nikita’s mind.

                  “Do you love him?”

                  The Division agent’s shoulders drooped as she exhaled deeply. “I think it’s too early to label what Ari and I have as anything…but I definitely want to explore it.”

                  Alex nodded in understanding. “If it helps at all, it’s constantly written on his face how much he cares about you. Those eyes of his hide very little. And they are stunning. That’s why I suggested the blue dress in the first place.”

                  The confession made Nikita’s lips curve into a fond smile. “Ari’s eyes are beautiful. So is the rest of him.”

                  “Have you two even had a chance to talk about what happened?”

                  “Not really. He’s been recovering from both the bullet wound and the removal of his kill chip. Come to think of it, I’m not sure he’s even fully moved into his new apartment. I should have offered to help.” 

                  “He probably thought you wanted space and didn’t try to push.” Alex reached out and gave her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “And besides: no one ever fully moves into their new place. I still have boxes lying around and I’ve been at mine for two years now.”

                  Nikita chuckled. “True. That’s part of why I’m a little nervous though. It’s just dinner but it’s his place. His territory. His rules.”

                  “I highly doubt Ari is going to impose rules on you.”

                  “No, it’s not that I think he will I just…don’t fully know what to expect. This is so different from how things were with Michael, and yes – it’s unfair to compare them, but how can I not when I’ve only been in one serious relationship before?”

                  “Nikki, I think the real reason that you’re jittery is because you like to be in control. Even with Michael you called the shots. Ari probably threw you a little by making the first move, but the ball is in your court right now.”

                  She pondered the analogy for a minute before responding. “So, you’re saying I should take the chance?”

                  “Obviously! Now, how long do we have before your dinner date?”

                  “About four hours?” Nikita checked her watch.

                  Alex stood and shouldered her purse. “Come on; we’re getting you a new dress. Something that will make Ari not want to take those eyes of his off you all evening.”

                  Despite her friend’s assistance and a much-needed pep-talk, Nikita’s anxiety had returned full force by the time she reached Ari’s apartment later that day. 

                  She fidgeted with her new outfit absentmindedly – adjusting the hem and the neckline until the fabric draped in the way that she wanted. Per Alex’s suggestion, she had gone with a blue that more closely resembled the shade of his eyes and had chosen a design that wasn’t form-fitting. Instead – it lightly brushed against her skin with each movement. It was sleeveless but demure, with a simple scoop neck and flared skirt that reached to mid-thigh. 

She completed her look with a set of low heels and a light grey sweater, and to add to the feminine nature of the dress, she had taken the time to curl her hair so that it fell in loose ringlets around her face. 

                  Her make-up was also far from daring as she had gone with neutral shades for her eyes and a soft pink for her lipstick. 

                  She chewed briefly at her lower lip, then remembered herself and stopped before she disrupted the care she had put into her overall look for the evening.

                  Steeling her nerves, she knocked three times at the door and waited. 

                  “Just a minute!” Though Ari’s deep, resonant tone was muffled, it immediately made her feel more at ease. 

                  The door swung open to reveal the object of her affection on the other side. 

                  Her heart leapt at the sight of him dressed simply in a white button-down shirt with the collar opened liberally at the throat, and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to show off nicely toned forearms, while his dark brown hair framed his angular, handsome features, and a few errant strands fell across his forehead casually. 

                  “Suddenly, I feel under-dressed,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe, and raking his gaze slowly along her form. “You look beautiful.”

                  “What, in this old thing? It’s just something I had lying around,” she lied smoothly, before, with flourish, presenting him with a bottle of white wine she had picked up on her way to his place. “I wasn’t sure what we were having but I’m wearing light colors.” She gestured at her clothes. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

                  He chuckled. “Luckily, white pairs well with what I’m concocting. Come on in.”

                  She smiled when he made room for her to step over the threshold. A delicious aroma immediately hit her senses once she was inside, and after she had removed her shoes and hung up her sweater, she made her way to the kitchen, where he was already pouring the wine into stemmed glasses. 

                  “What are you making, anyway?” she arced a perfectly groomed brow and accepted the drink when he handed it to her. 

                  “Stew; it’s from an old, family recipe,” he moved over to the stove, where the food was simmering. “It’s been cooking for most of the day.”

                  She smirked over the rim of the glass and stepped closer as Ari stirred the mixture in the pot. “A family recipe, huh? Any secret ingredients?”

                  “Why don’t you find out?” he grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the sauce, cupping a hand beneath when he pulled it back out. He then blew gently in order to cool the substance down and offered it to her to taste. 

                  She didn’t hesitate in sampling the dish, which was flavorful and hearty and had a hint of bitterness to it. 

                  It was absolutely delectable, and she was unable to fully hold back the satisfied moan that wanted to escape. “Let’s see,” she swallowed a bit of her drink and then turned her attention to identifying the mix of ingredients. “I can tell there’s bay leaf and rosemary…maybe a hint of cayenne? And definitely a liquor – not wine, it’s not that sharp,” she paused, tapping her chin. “Vodka?”

                  He grinned. “Very good my dear. Although,” he leaned in so he could whisper, effectively locking her body between his and the cabinet right behind. “It’s probably the oldest cliché in the book that every Russian chef keeps Vodka well-stocked.”

                  “There’s nothing wrong with a cliché now and then,” she admitted, setting her glass down, unable to resist a playful nuzzle while she toyed with the buttons on his shirt, enjoying his proximity and natural warmth. 

                  “No, I suppose there isn’t,” his tone turned softer, more intimate, and she heard the spoon clink on the tile as he put it down right before she was swept up in a very welcome kiss. 

                  Nikita lost herself to Ari’s embrace, her worries about whatever the future held drifting away with each tender attention that he bestowed. Nothing else mattered save for the man holding her as if she was the most precious of treasures and the knowledge that her feelings had not been exaggerated. Clearly – he wanted her just as much as she desired him. 

                   A delighted gasp emerged when he abruptly lifted her so she could sit on the counter and curl her legs around his waist, dragging him in as close as possible by the collar as the heat between them jumped considerably. 

                  She raked her nails along the thin fabric covering his broad, well-built torso, the temptation to shred it to pieces in order to get at his skin nearly overwhelming her. She tugged back momentarily to nip lovingly at his mouth, her fingers catching a button and freeing it. 

                  His hands moved up to cross over hers and halt their motion. “Wait,” he pulled away, struggling to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling steadily as he looked into her eyes. “As fun as it would be to make love to you against every surface of this place, that isn’t the reason I asked you over.”

                  “Can’t say I’m not a little bit disappointed,” she tilted her head to observe him and ran her fingers gently through his hair to muss it. “So, why did you?”

                  He exhaled quietly, that gaze of his never leaving hers. “I want to romance you properly, Nikita. I’ve never really had the opportunity before, and I figure: with this second chance you’ve given me, I should make the effort.”

                  “I’d say you’re doing a pretty decent job at it so far,” she leaned back in to nudge his nose with her own. “What’s next on the agenda?”

                  Ari grinned, warm and open. “The stew needs a bit longer to cook, so why don’t you take our drinks to the living room and put on some music? I’ll set a timer and be right there.”

                  Nikita nodded and, after stealing another quick kiss, she headed off to do as he requested. 

                  She was flipping through a collection of records by the time he met up with her and cast an amused glance in his direction before holding one vinyl up. “So, the all-powerful Ari Tasarov has a taste for rock ballads, does he?”

                  “Don’t knock them,” he admonished, walking over to her, and plucking the disc out of her grasp. 

                  “I’m not,” she shook her head and stood, draping her arms over his shoulders to pull him in towards her. “I just always pegged you for jazz or classical. I could picture you wandering around an old mansion playing Bach at full volume.”

                  “Tell me, in these fantasies of yours was I fully clothed or –

                  She smacked him across the chest, brief annoyance crossing her face. “Yes. I wasn’t always hot for you, sir, despite how charming you could be.”

                  Ari smiled and ducked his head, claiming Nikita’s lips in a slow, tender kiss.

                  She sighed against her lover’s mouth and grasped at his shirtsleeves, squeezing at a bicep before relaxing further into his embrace. 

                  They remained that way for a time, till he parted from her in order to place a record on a nearby turntable and let it begin to play.

                  A melodic, familiar tune filtered into the air, prompting Nikita to smile as Ari moved back into her space. “Bryan Adams. Nice choice.”

                  “I’m glad you approve,” he gathered her against him and began a simple waltz. 

                  It didn’t take her long to pick up the steps, and soon they were spinning gracefully around the floor of the living room. 

                  A peal of happy laughter emerged when he pirouetted her and then performed a dip that aligned their bodies close together. 

                  This caused the gradually building desire within her to spark, her breath catching when their chests brushed. 

                  The heat emanating from her companion was nearly too much to bear, particularly when he drew her leg over his hip so nearly every inch of them was touching. 

                  The kiss that was shared shortly after was far more insistent on her part, her hands twining into his hair while she traced at the shape of his lips with her tongue, begging entry that he willingly gave. 

                  Somehow, he managed to guide her over to the couch while their embrace deepened, not bothering to stop her this time when she succeeded in tearing his shirt open, and her hands delved inside. 

                  She straddled him, able to feel how strongly he was affected by her and shoved the garment down his shoulders. 

                  He yanked his arms free and reached for the zipper on the back of her dress, sliding it down gradually until it pooled around her waist and exposed the pale blue lace bra she had on underneath. 

                  Nikita moaned quietly when Ari’s mouth descended on her throat, nipping playfully at sensitive flesh, and then coasting across her shoulder, pushing her bra-strap down to grant better access at her bare skin. 

                  Just as she was about to flick the lingerie to the side, the timer in the kitchen went off.

                  Simultaneous groans of disappointment were shared, followed by a frustrated laugh on Nikita’s part. “We’re pretty bad at this being patient thing.”

                  “That we are,” he lifted his head from where he had rested it against her shoulder, and she found herself swimming in an affection-filled gaze, which meant that the mood hadn’t been completely shattered.

                  Her heart flipped. “I mean, it’s been cooking most of the day. We could leave it and re-heat it later.”

                  “Skipping directly to dessert would defeat the purpose of a date, Nikita,” he reprimanded, shrugging back into the discarded shirt, and then glancing down to notice that several buttons were now missing. 

                  She flushed a little despite their intimacy and quickly righted her dress. “Sorry. I’ll buy you a new one?”

                  He shook his head and placed a kiss to her forehead before rising from the seat. “That’s all right. I can sew some replacements on later. I’ll go handle the food.”

                  “You could wander around shirtless if you wanted, I don’t mind,” she called after him, her tone playful. 

                  He merely gave her a significant look over his shoulder and then disappeared into the kitchen. 

                  Nikita headed over to the dining room table, noting that there were dishes and utensils already waiting, and admired the roses that made up the centerpiece. 

                  Ari emerged with their dinner, set it down in the middle of the table, and then told her to go ahead and help herself while he changed. 

                  She was already enjoying the stew, which was accompanied by sliced French bread, by the time he returned, dressed in light blue instead of white.

                  Nikita grinned and dipped the bread in to soak up some sauce. “This is absolutely divine, Ari.”

                  “I live to please,” he remarked and made himself a bowl before he sat down to join her.

                  “I’m going to hold you to those words later, you know,” she quipped.

                  “I figured you might say that.” 

                  “What? We were interrupted, so you’re just going to have to deal with me twisting things into accidental innuendo till we get to that dessert you promised.”

                  “You’re incorrigible,” despite the way he muttered the words, she could see that he was biting back a smile. 

                  Nikita settled back comfortably in her chair so they could continue eating, exchanging pleasant conversation between bites, and getting to know all kinds of things about one another. 

                  “It’s a little surreal,” she confessed while they cleared the table, following him into the kitchen. “I must have read every dossier on you we had on file and yet there’s so much that I never knew.”

                  “To be fair,” Ari began to rinse the various dishes so he could place the bulk of them in the washer. “There was only so much that Division or similar organizations could find out. And vise-versa – Gogol’s files contained specific information. I suppose that’s the beauty in getting to know a person properly, though: they always manage to surprise you in one way or another.”

                  She nodded in agreement and leaned against a cabinet to observe him while he worked. “You’ve certainly managed to surprise me a lot within a single night.”

                  He froze for a moment before stating, quietly: “Happy surprises, I hope?”

                  “Only the best kind,” she moved forward, reaching out to trail a finger along his jawline and then turn his face in her direction so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. “The biggest surprise is that whenever we’re together, I don’t want that time to end.”

                  “Then don’t let it end,” he took her hands within his after he completed the last of his task and set the dishwasher on its cycle. 

                  She sighed forlornly and darted her gaze away. “Isn’t there always going to be some kind of complication though? You said yourself that this is the life that we’ve chosen.”

                  “Nikita, I said that because I was very certain at the time that I was going to die.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t considering a future, but now I can’t imagine one without you in it.”

                  Her heart cartwheeled, and she looked deeply into his eyes before admitting: “I don’t want to imagine one without you either.”

                  Whether he moved or she did didn’t matter – in the next instant, they were in each other’s arms and sharing a kiss that communicated their confessed feelings better than words could. 

                  Pure happiness bubbled up within Nikita when Ari scooped her up and began to carry her back to the bedroom. “We’re finally getting to that dessert, I see.”

                  “You nearly made it impossible to wait,” he breathed. “Please go easy on the shirt this time though.”

                  Her laughter was bright as she reached for the buttons and took more care in undoing them.

                  The garment parted over his chest by the time she was deposited on a soft mattress, and he compliantly slipped out of it when she drew him forward for another kiss.

                  They reclined together against the plush blankets that covered the bed. Unlike their previous encounter, there was no reason to hurry, but desire sparked rapidly.

                  Her hands eagerly explored his beautifully muscled torso while he rid her of the dress, and then she arched her back in assistance to remove her bra before fumbling with his belt for a moment before he took care of the issue for her. 

                  Once they were completely naked, limbs entangled naturally, and languid kisses were exchanged since there were no further barriers. 

                  Nikita slung one long leg over Ari’s hip and twisted just enough to topple him under her, resulting in a startled expression on his part that quickly softened as he stared up at her with realization. “You’re used to being in control, aren’t you?”

                  Despite the fact that she was nude and straddling him, a blush crossed her lovely face. “It’s…easier. At least to start.”

                  It was the truth. She had always hated missions that required her to be a seductress, so she had gotten through them in the best way she could. 

                  He nodded, understanding reflected in his gaze. Without another word, he gripped at her hips and guided her forward until they were aligned.

                  She placed her hands on the center of his chest and gradually sunk down, moaning at the intoxicating sensation that occurred when they were joined. 

                  Starting them off with a steady, rhythmic pace, Nikita studied Ari’s reaction when she felt bold enough to alter her angle. 

                  It was like she couldn’t get enough, admiring the sensual image he made with his head tilted back to expose the slender column of his neck, his dark hair tousled and providing a nice contrast with the stark white of the pillows. 

                  She raked her nails through the hair on his chest, delighting in the startled hiss that escaped him and the glint of challenge in his eyes when they met hers. 

                  Without warning, he surged up and drew them into a sitting position, burying deeper in the process.

                  He fit so perfectly that she was unprepared for the intensity that soon hit – their motions becoming wilder the longer their lovemaking wore on. 

                  Talented hands wandered avidly along bare skin, his lips following the path he created, pausing to devote particular attention to her breasts while nimble fingers delved lower.

                  She cried out when he stroked in a manner that threatened to unravel her completely, gripping tightly to his biceps.

                  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, the hand not presently preoccupied steady against the small of her back. 

                  She brought her gaze to his, her pulse jumping upon seeing such unconditional love reflected back. 

                  Nikita leaned in, kissing Ari soundly as she allowed herself to let go, cresting along waves of sensation until she collapsed in a shivering mess.

                  He caught her and cradled her close, murmuring gentle encouragements and letting her regain composure.

                  She rested her head against a strong shoulder and traced an invisible heart right over where his was, able to feel the still-slowing beat against her palm. 

                  They remained that way, impossibly tangled and not quite ready to move. 

                  She smiled when his mouth grazed her temple and held his gaze. “I needed this.”

                  “I could tell,” he pushed her messy hair away from her face.

                  “I didn’t mean to escalate our evening so quickly though,” she couldn’t help a guilty expression.

                  He merely laughed. “Don’t be. We were going to end up back here eventually anyway, though my original plan was to watch some movies.”

                  Curious, Nikita circled her arms around Ari’s neck. “What kind of movies?”

                  Roughly two hours later found the couple curled up together on the bed. Nikita, lounging in one of Ari’s spare shirts, grabbed a handful of popcorn before eying her lover critically. “Let me get this straight. The entire time it wasn’t some haunted doll but an actual, grown man hiding in the walls of the house?”

                  The former head of Gogol had also opted for a more casual look – namely a pair of sleep pants while remaining bare chested. He barely blinked an eye and plucked a few kernels away from the pile in her hand. “Yes.”

                  She gaped at him. “Why didn’t she call the authorities the second she started looking after the doll?!”

                  “Don’t try to logic the horror film, my love.”

                  She tossed a piece of popcorn at his head. “It’s a valid question!”

                  He sighed resignedly before launching into an explanation. “One of two things would have probably happened: either she called the police, and our masked villain murdered them all like he did that awful ex of hers, or he would have escaped through the intricate series of tunnels throughout the house. Don’t you remember how many hidden doors the Udinov manor had?”

                  “I try not to,” she shivered at the memory of how she’d almost gotten lost in the maze of corridors there.

                  He chuckled and picked up another handful of the salty snack before responding. “I’m just saying that it probably wouldn’t take much from a resourceful, stealthy person.”

                  “It’s a fair point,” she snuggled up against him and trailed her fingers along his chest. “You said there’s a sequel?”

                  “There is but it goes a more supernatural route. It’s not bad, but also not quite as compelling.”

      ��           She dropped a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not planning on leaving…go ahead and put it on.”

                  There was no hesitation on his part, and together: they settled in to enjoy another film, and moreover – each other’s company.

The End

#nikari #ari x nikita #mine #mrsreginagold #fanfiction #peter outerbridge #ari tasarov #otp: enemy mine #otp: this is the life we've chosen #my perfect precious babies

[cakepoppresent]

Who Even Invited You 2?

Veroinca: You guys were so annoying, you stared daggers at him the whole time

Malcolm: Who invited that loser, It should have just been us!

Veroinca: Well he paid, so what's the issue?

Malcolm: The issue is he fucking sucks

Veroinca: Omg, you're ridiculous

Vaughn pulls Veronica back to his chest and looks over to Malcolm "I have something to say to Veronica do you mind?"

Malcolm: I do actually

Veroinca: Malcolm just give me a sec okay? We'll catch up in my room later!"

"Hmph you got 5 minutes" Malcolm points at Vaughn and gives one last glare before heading back to the dorm

Vaughn: I didn't know you had such a loyal guard dog, Princess"

"Don't mind him he is just protective" Veronica smiled up at Vaughn "How was your holiday?"

Vaughn looking down at Veronica can't help but smile, he really missed Veronica over the weekend "Apart from missing you, it was uneventful"

Veroinca: You're such a sweet talker, You said you had something for me, where is it?

Vaughn: Close your eyes"

Veronica quickly covers her eyes in excitement "Okay I'm ready!" Vaughn pulls out a wrapped-up box with a bow Veronica's eyes meet a little Piplup and squeals in response "Is this a penguin? that's so cute!"

Vaughn smiles fondly at Veronica as she takes the Piplup and starts inspecting it "Oh! there is something inside" Veronica notices a packaged box. She opens it and finds a bracelet inside "Omg Vaughn this is gorgeous"

Vaughn: Of course, only the best for you

Vaughn takes the bracelet and places it on Veronica's wrist "Just a little Winterfest give from me". Veronica stares at the bracelet and looks back up at Vaughn "What's your intention here, Vaughn"

Vaughn: Nothing at all. Just wanted to gift you? Is that a crime?

Veroinca: Thank you for the gift. It's much appreciated

Vaughn: Before you go, Let's go out this weekend. Dinner and a movie

Vaughn grabs a hold of Veronica's hand and rubs her palm Veronica starts to feel hot and she pulls her away from Vaughn "I'll let you know if I'm free"

Back in the dorm

Veronica and Malcolm are chatting in her dorm room

Are you dating that loser or what? Malcolm pauses the movie and faces Veronica

Veroinca: No! I mean I don't think we are. We are just friends"

Malcolm: Friends? I heard that dude is a hoe. What if he is playing you!"

The thought has passed Veronica's mind, but so far Vaughn has been on his best behaviour and hasn't given her any reason to really worry "Don't worry Malcolm we aren't dating. We are just friends! Malcolm still isn't convinced "You've never been that nice to a dude before"

"Hush, if I said we are friends then we are friends. Don't worry if he does something I'll call you to protect my honour" Veronica pats Malcolm's head to assure him "You better, I'd beat his ass for you"

Veroinca: I'm sure you will babes

Malcolm: I WOULD

For reference, this is what Vaghun got Veroinca. I couldn't find a cute penguin plushie so I used this version instead!

Edit** i forgot to add what he got her LOLOL

#my sims #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #sims #sims 4 creator #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 cas #thereevesfamily #maybe later in the story i would like to dive deeper into Malcolm and veronicas relationship

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2022 - Day 25: Make-up / pick your own - "Book"

I think this could still use more work, but it is 10 minutes to the deadline so HERE WE GO. (I have to thank @ sanquines for posting a question on Twitter which inspired the idea behind this piece.)

========

“Well, here we are,” Keimwyda said, fitting her key into the lock on her apartment. She pushed the door open and lit the lights, allowing Aymeric inside. “I must confess, ‘tis a bit strange to at last have a place to which I may invite you.”

“I am most honored,” he smiled, stepping into the entry, and casting his eyes about the place. By the Fury, it was small. A bit on the plain side, too, moreso than he expected from her. There was a comfortable sitting area and a small dining nook, and the smell of something quite enticing that Keimwyda had left simmering on the stove. Personal touches were spread around—a sprig of dried lavender here, a throw blanket there, a few souvenirsfrom her travels tucked into convenient shelves and corners. But she had not kept a place of her own for some time now, and her furnishings clearly betrayed it. It was the house of someone who traveled light.

“It is not much, but I thank you for allowing me the chance to show you some hospitality for a change.”

“As I said, it is my honor,” he repeated. “But… may I reiterate one thing, for mine own sake?”

“Feel free.”

“Should you wish it, Ishgard would happily furnish you with finer accommodations. Nothing against these apartments, of course! I am eminently proud of this district, and you of course bring a lovely touch to it.”

She laughed at him. “You need not flatter me, Ser, I am aware it is yet quite bare.”

His face reddened slightly. “A thousand pardons, I did not intend…”

“Oh no! Pray, forgive me, I am not bothered at all. Your meaning is clear to me. But I am content, I assure you. I travel enough that I do not require a grand space here at home. A safe and comfortable bed and a well stocked kitchen suit me well.”

“I suppose it just sits ill with me that the Savior of Ishgard should be relegated to such a simple situation,” he said, shrugging a bit helplessly. “If Fortemps Manor was no longer suitable for you, I am quite sure any of the High Houses would be more than happy to host you. Or even…” he had to stop himself before volunteering his own guest quarters, recalling that he could not be her host and suitor both. “Well. We could most certainly find you something.”

“That is kind of them,” she replied, “but I feel at ease with my arrangement. And House Fortemps was nothing but gracious to me—Count Edmont, in fact, implored me to stay. But I did not feel right to continue to indefinitely take advantage of his charity. Nor would I transfer that burden to another house, nor to the city coffers.”

Aymeric gave her a serious look. “‘Tis not charity, my darling. It is a debt.”

She shook her head. “Whatever service I have rendered to Ishgard, I consider not a loan, but a gift. I have no desire to accrue debtors. I much prefer friends.”

He sighed, but let the subject drop. She really must learn to accept such gestures without guilt, especially given the kind of circles she now operated in. Though he knew her intent, she likely did not understand that some lords would regard it as a snub. But he did not wish to squabble about it now. A discussion for another time, perhaps.

“Besides,” she continued, placing a tea kettle over the fire, “It is nice to have the privacy of a place that is my own, and the leave to play hostess myself from time to time. Speaking of, please, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will not be much longer.”

She moved to the stove to fuss over the stew, and he took a small tour of the sitting area—which, given the small space, did not require either person moving out of the other’s eyeline. Aymeric looked over the collection of books she had on her shelves. It was a small assemblage, given her recent move, but he recognized a few titles. A book of poetry, for one, which he remembered her discovering in his own library—she had stumbled upon it during a visit and had evidently loved it enough to procure her own copy. Alongside were few staple reference books, a novel or two, and a small assortment of surprisingly dull-looking academic tomes regarding flora and fauna. A small stack of journals did their best to fill out the rest of the space.

But what very much caught his eye was the book on prominent display, sitting on the top shelf, its cover proudly facing the room—The Little Adventures of Ground Squirrel.

“What is this?” he smiled curiously, pointing. She left the stove to join him and look, and blushed a bit when she saw what he indicated.

“Ah, that! Yes, of course, I keep only the most robust and challenging literature for my collection.” As he chuckled at the joke, she smiled and carried on, “No, it is a story my father used to read to me when I was still a little girl. It is one of a very few things of his I still have.”

Aymeric inwardly marveled at it. Being a child and hearing stories were eminently normal, and of course the Warrior of Light had her own memories of such. It was still mildly surreal to get a glimpse into that past.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards the small tome.

“If you like,” she smiled. “Though I daresay you are not apt to find it very compelling.”

He gingerly removed it from its place and took a seat on the couch, and she joined him. He carefully turned the pages one by one.

The story was not an exceptionally good one, even for a simple children’s story. The protagonist—the titular Ground Squirrel—had lost his precious walnuts and was scampering around the Shroud looking for them, meeting other small creatures along the way. The writing was a bit flat, but the illustrations were charming. An early reading primer for children in and around Gridania, most like, serving double duty of teaching letters as well as the names of animals.

“That one was my favorite picture,” Keimwyda volunteered, stopping him at a page of Ground Squirrel trying unsuccessfully to converse with a water sprite.

“Your father read to you often, did he?”

“Quite often before bed,” she smiled. “I suspect this book was a bit of an ode to my mother. He seemed to favor it.”

“How so?” Aymeric asked gently.

“She was a gleaner—a student of Sharlayan, who specialized more in hands-on natural sciences than in theorems and lecture halls. She loved the Black Shroud. That is how we ended up living there. And she loved learning, and nature. I suppose my father thought that this book was the best of all those worlds.”

“Do you remember her then?” Aymeric asked, recalling Keimwyda mentioning that she had lost her mother when she was quite young.

She shook her head no. “I am afraid not. I know of her only through my father. And I suspect he might have waxed a bit over-poetic from time to time.” She smiled to herself.

“What was he like, then—your father?” Aymeric asked, raising his arm on the back of the chair to invite her closer.

She sidled into his embrace and traced her fingers along the open page. “He was a good man, a kind man. He had a very gravelly voice—I suspect the victim of too many years shouting over the spray of the sea. But he used it gently, especially with me. Especially when he was reading. Whenever the subject of my mother came up, he always spoke well of her.

“He was not the most learned of men, I think. His path had always taken him to hard work at the docks and on ships. But as my mother was a frequent traveler, that is how they met. He always spoke highly about how intelligent she was and how infectious her curiosity for the world was to him. He wished for me to read all her books when I was old enough.”

“He wished to impart to you her loves then,” he surmised.

She nodded. “I believe so.”

“It would seem he succeeded.”

She laughed a light laugh. “I believe that is true as well. All thanks to Ground Squirrel, here, and his rather dull little adventures.”

…

A few days later, Keimwyda trudged to her door, bone-weary from a full day of gathering in the Diadem. She was eager for a quick supper and a long bath. Maybe not in that order. In her preoccupation, she nearly stumbled over a parcel in front of her door.

Strange. She had not expected any deliveries today.

She picked it up and brought it inside, setting it on the table, spotting the note affixed with an immediately recognizable blue wax seal. What did he… she began to wonder, pulling loose the twine which held the bundle shut.

The paper fell open to reveal a velveteen ground squirrel.

Keimwyda laughed out loud, and then dabbed a few tears from her eyes, before placing her new friend on the shelf of honor, thereafter to floppily stand guard over his book and her little apartment. She had never been one to really keep stuffed toys, but she would make an exception for this one. This abode could do with a little more love, after all.

#FFxivWrite2022 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv #my writing #wolmeric #wolmeric nonsense #sappy alert

[udo0stories]

  “You can’t force anyone to value, respect, understand, or support you, but you can choose to spend your time around people who do.” ~Lori Deschene   "Legacy systems" is a term used in the IT industry. These are incredibly antiquated computer systems that are still in use because some organizations have based parts of their operations on them. Because of the intricate web of dependencies these systems impose, replacing a legacy system is difficult, if not painful. However, it is not insurmountable. The advantages of swapping out an outdated system for one that complies with an organization's present operating standards are much greater than the drawbacks. More importantly, though, maintaining a legacy system might end up being more expensive and even risking the organization's existence. You seem to be getting an IT 101 lesson in what should be a wellness article, so are you blinking quickly and wondering if you clicked on the wrong article and if it is finally time to address your bad sleep routine? In addition to the fact that I love technology and will find any excuse to teach anyone I can about anything IT-related, it was also a great way to introduce legacy friends, a term I recently encountered in a way that really astounded me. These are the people who are still in your life because you were friends with them once and that friendship lasted. You have been friends for a while now, and the reason you are still friends is that your unwavering bond has endured over time as you have somewhat quietly changed. Or, in my case, unquestioned up until life's harsh realities made me stop and consider the hollowness of one such friendship.   After enduring seven long years of living in the same city, I made the decision a few months ago to follow my adventurous spirit and relocate to a new nation. I was in dire need of change, and I did not find it attractive to pretend to be absorbed in patio furniture while a former romantic partner strolled down the aisle accompanied by his mother. The move was initially exhilarating, motivating, and fantastic in every way. It was all very novel at first, but the anonymity of a new place where I did not have to pretend to be interested in any kind of furniture was just splendid. I went through the intense pain of unexpectedly losing all of my network of support, and I came into contact with strange environmental factors that triggered symptoms of seasonal affective disorder. My light faded as I realized I was alone and lost in a strange place. Part-time postgraduate studies and a new job in an unfamiliar and demanding work environment only contributed to the growing darkness of confusion and misery that was plaguing me. Being an immigrant felt like an endless administrative struggle as I tried to keep up with everything my new life required of me. It is easy to imagine how happy I was to learn that a college friend was spending the evening in my new city and would like to get dinner with me. There was a distinct sense of relief at the thought of seeing a familiar face, and for a brief while it felt as though the ominous cloud had parted. It did not last long, though, because I soon discovered that he had also invited his friend to dinner. This confused me a little because in the beginning, he had given the impression that it would just be the two of us. However, the idea of seeing a longtime friend overwhelmed me, so I gave in and agreed to dinner.   Weeks went by as I continued to work hard, barely making it through excruciating assignments and tedious conversations at work that quickly sapped my confidence even though I had nearly ten years of experience. I was told a week before the dinner that it would now be a dinner party for as many people as could make it, and that it would begin thirty minutes after my official workday ended. I was taken aback. After months of working nonstop and spending every free moment hunched over textbooks that seemed to be written in English but were actually all

sorts of Greek to me, I was shocked to find that I was suddenly expected to arrive on time, dress appropriately, and mingle happily with strangers I had never met before while barely getting any sleep. I warned my friend that I might not be able to make it to dinner due to work commitments and that, if I did, it would be a little later because I knew how busy things had been at work. He allegedly said, "Either arrive on time or do not bother showing up at all." Again, I was stunned. I’d prided myself on cultivating respectful, mature relationships and was rendered speechless by his response. My other friends were kind and compassionate and consistently demonstrated their unwavering support for me doing what I needed to do in order to be the best version of myself. So his response was shocking to say the least. The bewilderment soon gave way to some serious contemplation as I struggled to understand how someone in my life could administer such a senseless ultimatum. The more time I spent inspecting the details of our friendship, the clearer things became. The truth of the matter was that we were not actually friends. Well, at least not by the definition of a friend that I had come to know over the past few years.   To me, a friend is someone who patiently yet firmly prompts you to finally talk about your broken heart and the dysfunctional relationship you clearly needed to remove yourself from. It’s someone who is so ecstatic about your final term results that they excitedly lift you into the air with a bear-like hug while you temporarily forget your mild but very real fear of having your feet off the ground. It’s someone who will listen to your wails of discomfort in the wee hours of a Sunday morning as you attempt to put up much needed boundaries with your family. It’s someone who offers you a sympathetic shoulder to cry on instead of saying, “I told you so” when the deliciously tattooed guy does exactly what they predicted he’d do.   It’s someone who constantly encourages you to silence your inner over-achiever by continuously telling you that a 50% pass is a fantastic outcome for someone juggling as many things as you are. It’s someone who will gladly spend their time letting you interview them for a needs assessment survey while you try to desperately (and very foolishly) finish a two-week assignment in two days. It is not someone who has known about your challenges in acclimating to a new continent yet stayed silent about it. It is not someone who failed to display any empathy or concern when you mentioned that you were sick yet again. It is not someone who offered absolutely no support in helping you navigate an academic degree that they had already completed. It is not someone who complained that the three-minute voice note you sent was too long for them to listen to. It is not someone who criticizes how you choose to embrace your heritage and culture. It is not someone who barely expressed any gratitude for the time and energy you sacrificed in helping them realize their career ambitions. It is not someone who childishly refuses to reply to your messages all because you missed a dinner, planned with no consideration to your dietary restrictions or time constraints, that made you feel like an afterthought.   This person is not a friend by my current standards. They would be what is deemed a legacy friend—someone who had remained in my life simply because they’d been there for some time. This conclusion was jarring, but I guess all harsh truths are. The nice thing about the truth is that it really does set you free. With this newfound knowledge, I liberated myself from the hold of this unnecessary relationship and re-framed the experience as an opportunity for self-awareness to outline what I need from friendships in my life.   Here are five lessons I learned from the loss of a legacy friend. 1. I am wholly uninterested in superficial conversations and activities that do not enrich my life or society at large in any way.

2. It’s a messy endeavor to attempt to have people in your life with values that are misaligned with yours. 3. It’s perfectly fine for you to choose your peace and well-being over people who have taken far more than they’ve given. 4. As tough as it is to accept, it’s impractical to have people in your life who are stuck in a lifestyle that you outgrew long ago. 5. There is no way to explain away disrespect, and every single human on this earth, regardless of creed or color, deserves unconditional respect.   I of course feel saddened by the loss of someone I thought to be a friend, but a consoling outlook is that I’m now making space in my life for people who more closely meet my needs. As with legacy systems, removing a legacy friend may be an uncomfortable and even painful undertaking, but the allure of a more enriched life should be a worthwhile incentive to at least consider it. Having felt the fierce love of my found family for many years, I believe with all my heart that the goodness you embody will be a signal to like-minded souls, so do not settle for anything less than what you deserve.  

#PersonalDevelopment #Big #Friend #Learned #Legacy #Lessons #Losing