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hazelsmirrorball · 6 months

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The Bodyguard | Hazel Callahan

summary: Hazel Callahan has a love-hate relationship with her bodyguard, Y/n. pairings: Fem!Bodyguard reader x Rockstar!Hazel Warnings: English isn’t my main language so excuse any errors. a/n: watched bottoms again with my mom! She couldn’t understand a word because she isn’t that good in english. Hope you guys like it!

Y/n stepped out of the venue escorting Hazel Callahan out with her hand resting firmly on her lower back. Both of them headed towards the tour bus so they could finally end their long night. That was Y/n’s job, keeping sensational rockstar Hazel Callahan safe away from harm's way, not being in annoying phone calls about her boss’s attitude. Y/n held onto Hazel’s bag while she pinched her phone between her shoulder and her ear, attending a conference meeting with Hazel’s team.

She stopped in her tracks as she let out a sigh, nodding at the words coming out of the phone. Y/n quickly removed her hand from Hazel back to rub her temples clearly annoyed out of her mind. Hazel followed her actions noticing that her footsteps had stopped. She turned around to face Y/n with an exhausted look on her face. She had been doing shows back to back, getting little to no sleep. All she wanted to do was go to bed and rest. But she was grateful that Y/n decided to take the meeting knowing that she couldn’t hear the bitching voice of her manager telling her what she did wrong the night before. Hazel’s eyes tried searching for Y/n’s but it was useless due to the black sunglasses that rested on her nose.

Y/n could feel the anticipation bottling up in her chest as she and the person in the other line let out an exhausted sigh. It felt like the short conference call had turned into a serious two hour meeting revolving around Hazel's attitude. Things weren’t looking good for Hazel and even though she worked for her she still deeply cared about her.

“Yes. I’m aware of everything that’s happening, sir. I’ve been keeping an eye on her. I promise you guys she will be on her best behavior. As of now, I will need to hang up so she gets safely to her next destination. I’ll keep in touch. She’ll be at the meeting at eight am sharp. Good Night.” Y/n hung up the phone, slipping it into her back pocket while recomposing herself. “Hazel, where do you want to ea… Shit!” Y/n exclaimed a river of curse words following as she took in her surroundings, noticing that Hazel had slipped from her eyesight.

The cold winter breeze hit her body, making her shiver. Y/n regretted only wearing her uniform, her black suit didn’t do anything for her in the cold weather. Why Hazel wanted her to wear a stereotypical body suit uniform was beyond her but right now that should be the least of her worries. It was around one am in the morning and Hazel’s show had just finished an hour and half ago. Both of the girls were standing outside of the venue waiting for the crowd of fans to disappear so she could get her safe and sound to the tour bus not before stopping for some food. Y/n was never distracted but after receiving an urgent call from Hazel's manager she had moved her eyes away from her one second, but that was all Hazel needed to slip out of her hold.

Y/n L/n had known Hazel Callahan ever since she started her music career. Both of them were around the same age but Hazel had insisted she felt more comfortable with a body guard around her age. So night after night she would stand near Hazel to guarantee her safety but quite recently things had changed. Y/n’s job had become harder adding more responsibilities to her job that were never in her contract. She had become not only Hazel’s bodyguard but her assistant. Hazel had entered her “Frat boy” era or at least that’s what the PR management had informed Y/n.

Y/n was tired. Tired of having to drag a drunk or high Hazel out of the bar. Having to wait outside of the hotel room while she hooked up with a random stranger. But most importantly she was tired of having to deal with her management. They wanted Hazel to be perfect and all her little hiccups all lead to Y/n, because she wasn’t “mature” enough to control her. Yet there she was doing her job while attempting to save what was left of Hazel’s reputation doing her management work. She couldn’t even think of the last time she had a vacation. She didn’t mind having Hazel close, she actually enjoyed her presence but the past months she was acting like a brat and she couldn’t stand it anymore.

Y/n moved quickly on her feet going to God’s knows where as she gripped on Hazel’s bag. Pissed off out of her mind she could see the flashing red lights from afar. Her once chill demeanor turned into a rough glare as she stomped towards the bar near the venue. As she pulled the door open she could see Hazel dancing in the middle up the dance floor with someone with a drink tightly gripped on her hand. She left her for about an hour. How was it possible that she was already fucked out of her mind. Y/n pushed up her sunglasses to see better with the flashing lights as she slipped through the drunken bodies.

“Y/n, you finally decided to join the fun! I thought you were going to stay outside doing boring things. I’m really glad you're here. Here try my drink, you’re going to love it” Hazel said quickly losing her attention on the girl next to her leaning towards Y/n to push the drink towards her lips. Y/n moved her hand away, taking the drink out of Hazel’s hand making her pout. Before Hazel could even say another word Y/n took her hand pushing past the people surrounding them.

“Let’s go before someone recognizes you and gets the both of us in trouble.” Y/n said but before she could reach the door, the sea of people split them up. Hazel’s drunk body hit someone else spilling their drink. Hazel’s hands quickly tried to dry the owner's shirt and mutter a river of apologies but before she could do anything else the owner of the drink pulled Hazel by the shirt. Y/n attempted to pushed past the excited people trying to see what was the hold up.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Nothing! You're the one that’s fucking gripping on my shirt. Do you know how expensive this shirt is? It’s literally worth more than your own life so do me a favor and let go of me. Do you even know how I am? Your dirty little han…” and with those words escaping Hazel’s lips, she quickly found herself on the floor with a bloody nose and a throbbing pain in her left eye. Y/n once again pushed through the people shielding Hazel’s face from the cameras not wanting her to be in the news the next day. She quickly got her on her feet quickly reaching the door.

“Miss Callahan, do you know what time it.. Are you insane? Going to a bar? Getting into a fight? You have your team working hard as it is but now? No, you know what, I'll ask you a better question: are you aware of who you are?” Y/n said seriously when they finally got out of the small bar. Hazel scoffed, rolling her eyes at Y/n.

“Of course I know who I am, Y/n. I’m a fucking star and I deserve to have fucking fun. I’m not a machine and management needs to get that through their thick skulls.” Hazel muttered as she stomped angrily towards the tour bus. Y/n followed her steps closely not wanting to lose her again.

“Let’s just go to the tour bus, you have a long day ahead of you and now you’ll have to deal with a hangover.” Y/n responded softly trying to put her hand once again on her lower back. Hazel quickly moved, pushing her hand away, her steps being quicker and stronger than before.

“You sound just like them. I thought you were on my side, but all I see now is you bitching and moaning. What happened with the Y/n that actually enjoyed spending time with me? The one that actually liked doing her job? You act like being with me is a burden, do you think I’m dumb enough to not notice?” Y/n followed her steps closely not wanting to lose her again.

“With all the respect. I’ve defended you relentlessly with your managers, I’ve protected you with my life, Hazel. I put your needs before me. Have you noticed that I don’t have a social life because I’m twenty four seven with you? I’ve done everything to keep your career intact. Ask your other celebrities friends what fucking body guard stays outside of their fucking hotel room so they could have a quick fuck? Don’t compare me to the management team that doesn’t care about your well being. I’m not going to fight with you, Callahan. I’m just doing my job.” Y/n responded in her calm tone as both of them continued walking towards the bus. Hazel laughed sarcastically as she pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“You are acting as if we aren’t friends, Y/n why are you being like this now? Is it because you're jealous that everyone can have me and you can’t? Ever since I started what the stupid pr calls my “frat boy” era you become a bitch. I’m sorry that you don’t get laid, maybe it’s because of your lack of personality. ” Hazel yelled once again, turning around to face Y/n. Hazel quickly fell when she heard the words that slipped out of her mouth instantly regretting it. Her eyes follow Y/n’s body watching as she opens the tour bus door.

“Get in. You have a meeting at eight am and you’re not going to miss it.” Y/n replied dryly wanting for her to enter the tour bus. Hazel’s feet felt as if they were glued onto the floor not being able to move.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really didn’t mean it! Please don’t quit” Hazel said quickly knowing that half of her staff had left her already and she couldn’t bear losing Y/n.

“Callahan, whatever we have is professional. We aren’t friends so whatever you say doesn’t affect me whatsoever. I need this job. So get it”

Hazel knew that after tonight things were going to be different and she hated herself for that.

...

Thank you for reading

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan bottoms #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #imagines #ruby cruz #bottoms movie #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #ruby cruz x reader #wlw #lesbian #rockstar! hazel #pj bottoms #hazel bottoms #josie bottoms #bottoms movie 2023 #bottoms hazel

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theineffablesociety · 1 month

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I'd like to plan a Good Omens meetup for Saturday October 19th, 2024. Poll below!

The Ineffable Society Meetup is a thought that's brewed in my brain since June 2023 when a bunch of local GO fans chanced to meet for the first time at the King of Prussia PA screening of series 2 episode 1 and 2.

It is time to stop brewing and let others contribute.

Here's my initial thoughts:

I'm willing to organize but not alone. We'll need to work together.

I live near Philadelphia, PA so this is the area I'm willing to do what needs doing primarily in Eastern PA, Central NJ, surrounding areas therein.

I'd want everyone attending to be 18 or older, please. I encourage those 17 and under to organize something together!

Taking suggestions for type of venues to host, think like a family reunion or larger.

I'm not interested in handling money, so would seek at least 2 people to oversee financials if that comes into play. (Finances might be needed to cover renting a space, any printed materials, little swag gifts.)

As mentioned, Saturday October 19th. Because it's close to the Earth's Birthday. :3

Afternoon through evening could be good. Maybe a 3 hour window on the small end; most of the day on the larger end. Will depend on location and on how many helpers step up.

Good Omens related fun: encouraging cosplay, script book readings, discussions, games, swaps. Maybe screening an episode together (there's copyright law to contend with here though). Depending on how much time we have together and space. Simplest plan would be an informal Good Omens afternoon mixer type.

If fewer than 12 people are interested:

We could just meetup at a restaurant that has a function room! (Not super ideal for allergies, as there's probably nowhere that's good for everyone. But does it in a pinch. And would probably not be a big up-front cost. Often there's a small room fee and then the assumption everyone will eat.)

If more than 12 up to 40 people are interested:

We might consider renting some conference rooms at a small hotel. (That does make it easier for people to find accommodations: already there! At a hotel! Downside is this will require chipping in.)

Any more than 40 people and uhhh... We'll figure it out.

WHAT I NEED TO KNOW FROM YOU

There will be more questions to follow, but most important one is below.

Please answer YES if you are:

A Good Omens fan

18 or older

In the Eastern PA to Central NJ area

Or are otherwise willing, able, and interested to go there

For transparency. A little about me:

I'm North (SeedsOfWinter). They/he.

Over the past two and a half decades, I've organized or been a member of organizations that planned meetups, game nights, reunions, and nerd events for friends and strangers alike.

I've been a Good Omens fan since June 2019. I run @rareomens. I am a mod for @ineffableeraszine and @bildadzine. I was a mod for the Our Side Zines, Pin Me Up 2, and many more. I was a founding admin for the LGBTQIA+ Fans of Good Omens groups.

I've been part of convention presentations for Good Omens at The Ineffable Con (virtual) and DragonCon (in-person, Atlanta GA). I love to organize fan photoshoots and meetups.

I know that any attempt at gathering people requires a team to make it happen; and that there's pitfalls and perils to all of it, especially when you're dealing with a bunch of possible strangers meeting for the first time! But the end result (you all getting a chance to connect together as fans) is feeling pretty worth it.

#good omens #good omens fandom #the ineffable society #ineffable society #the ineffable society meetup #fan meeting #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley

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moonshynecybin · 1 month

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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGemcDwPY/ Vale doing this to Marc a couple years down the line (when their relationship has been established, maybe they’re already engaged at this point, disgression) in the FCO AU because google calendar used to be that place that they had to share with the PR people from Honda/Yamaha and that Marc obviously loathed and obviously they no longer have access to them now and I don’t think that Valentino is like, enough of a nerd to do this, BUT, I think it could happen once and it would make Marc blush like a fool (he definitely takes a screencap of the invite just in case it ever disappears)

it’s literally like. okay we are past all of the #angst and headfirst into the reality of rosquez in a loving and committed and deeply horny relationship that has been well established at this point. several years post outing, post fake dating, post screamin and fighting and kissing in the rain, et cetera. they are sweet! they are in love! BUT. they are ALSO two of the busiest people on the planetttttttt. so it’s been. literally like three fucking weeks at this point since they’ve gotten more than a night alone together. agony. first it was a double header and then vale had sponsorship obligations and marc had a photo shoot and vale had to meet with one of the academy kids and then they BOTH had testing and like. it’s one thing to have lots of sexy fun sneaking around the paddock trying to find a spot that can lock long enough to fuck in between press conferences. it’s another when EVERYONE knows you guys are fucking and STILL the only time together you get outside of literally being unconscious is AT those same press conferences!!!! not fun!!!! not sexy!!!! (dani voice. can you two please stop playing footsie. jorge voice. marc that is in fact my foot. and my thigh.)

SO! what is a romantic little prankster to do when he wants to plan a fucking. at this point it feels like BIANNUAL date night with his favorite generational talented but unfortunately very busy twink ass boyfriend?? well if you’re vale, you hack his google calendar when he’s sleeping and you trick him. for funsies. he loves a scheme he loves a plan he loves a joke he loves a surprise !

so like. it’s post fucking media day at a race and marc is EXHAUSTED and all he wants to do is find vale and curl up in one of their ludicrously tricked out mobile homes and pass out with his nose pressed like. into vale’s armpit. and dream about merging their souls into one ephemeral but eternal being. typical marc stuff. and he’s almostttt out the door when his friendssistant (they ALL HAVE ONE !) jose tugs on his sleeve near the end of the day and is like. i’m sorry marc, but there’s one more thing… and he literally nearly CRIES. he hasn’t gotten dicked down in a FORTNIGHT it’s dire. it’s rough.

BUT! it also means that he doesn’t ask many questions. so when he gets led (easily) to whatever goofy ass elaborate rich people venue vale has chosen for date night (neither of them have changed clothes this so so essential to me… just both of them in khaki shorts so big they could legally be classified as parachutes. and new balances/vans. in the rich people venue.) he is SUPRISED ! and delighted… it’s perfect… vale sitting there eyes sparkling SO pleased to get one over on marc in the lovely little joyful way you get when you play a sweet little joke on your partner and is marc SO happy to get some alone time/attention just basking in it… like they LOVE each other… it’s the perfect night… and they do get papped (FCO AU is fundamentally about being famous and having no privacy i have to stick to the THEMES of my story) and they don’t even care!!! because the photos are them like. slow dancing and slightly tipsy pressed together… marc’s hands looped around vale’s neck… swaying… and the photos are kind of blurry but the smiles on their faces come through clear as day…

#tiktok is a guy sending a lady a gcal invite titled date? which is cuuuute #not exactly what you asked but nonetheless where my brain drifted. our little traditions.#motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez #forced coming out au

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blissfulip · 4 months

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Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut.

Cw: mentions of sexual themes, alcohol consumption

Words: 2k

[A/N: tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly. (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Previous Next

Chapter 3: Between rage and something else

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. Nervous didn’t even cut it at this point, you were dreading this meeting, and not even a pep talk from Moira (and her pep talks were known to be incredibly effective) helped get your usual confidence back. You scolded yourself the entirety of your walk there; how can you let someone as non threatening as Viktor shake your grounds so easily? It’s not like he would ever ‘win’ any of your fights, it’s not like…shake it off, you idiot. The voice in your head was correct, though. You never allowed him to make you flustered or visibly annoyed, but this recent excessive and prolonged contact with him had been proving to be much more than you could handle.

Nevertheless, the matter being official Academy business gave you no choice but to withstand his many attempts at slandering your work and being simply vexatious and arrogant. Many a deep breath later, you entered the café. He was sitting on a table near the farthest wall and did not seem to have noticed your entrance until you approached him.

“You are late.”

“It’s 1:07”

“You said 1:00, my time is valuable.”

“I apologize, I’m sure you have many things to do at the lab,” you said, making sure the sarcasm in your voice came through.

He was unable to retort since, before you could even sit on the chair opposite him, a waitress was already standing next to the table with a wide grin.

“Welcome! How are you two doing today?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you.” You tried as hard as you could to let go of the frown you’d been carrying and be as nice as possible to her, Viktor answering with a polite smile as well.

“That is so great to hear! Can I get you something to start?”

“Just drip coffee and sweet milk for him.” Viktor was initially annoyed that you had spoken over him, but his feelings soon changed into unfiltered confusion.

“Sure thing! I'll be back with those in a minute, let me know if you need anything else.” She said and then disappeared among the group of people at the counter who were taking their orders to go.

“How did you know?”

“What?”

“What I wanted to order”

“What do you mean? It’s literally all you drink,” You said in a dismissive tone that just made him even more puzzled. You would’ve dropped the matter there if his expression wasn’t so utterly perplexed. “Viktor, just because I don’t like you, it doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Right, eh, I got the notebook, where would you like to start?” He said, trying to deflect.

“Why can’t I write?”

“I got the notebook first, I write. And my handwriting is better anyway.”

“Fine, I asked Heimerdinger how many days we were allotted for the conference, and he said we needed to have it all on the same day, but we could get two different venues in the same place to split the different disciplines.”

“Why is that necessary?”

“I doubt the people who attend to see the chemistry presentations will be interested in sticking around for the arts talk, so rather than having people stand up and leave, we can split the disciplines into two different venues”

“Hm, sure.” He said, opening the notebook to start scribbling down, “Chemistry, engineering and biology on one venue, arts, history and language on the other.”

"Exactly,” You started to say before being gracefully interrupted by the sweet waitress with your drinks.

“Here’s yours, and here’s the drip coffee, are we all good?”

“Yes, everything is perfect, thank you so much”

“No problem at all! And can I just say you two are such a lovely couple? I haven’t seen a couple go out with matching outfits in so long, it makes me so giddy to see!”

“We are not—” Viktor was quick to answer, but you were quicker.

“—matching, this is our work uniform. Maybe we should go out with matching outfits one day, though, that sounds so fun! Right, my love?”

Shock is not a strong enough word to describe what Viktor was going through at the moment, his ears red with embarrassment and his silence deafening.

“Don’t mind him; he’s shy,” you said, shooting her a warm smile as she did the same and turned to leave once again.

There was another minute of muted annoyance in Viktor's eyes, contrasting with the smug chuckle you let out.

“Are you out of your mind? What was that about?”

“What? That was hilarious,” You said, shrugging.

“Why do you always do that? What is so fun about being a mythomaniac?”

“I don’t always do that, only to get out of uncomfortable situations. Can you imagine how awkward she would’ve felt if we had corrected her? She’s happy, and I got to see you flustered, so I’m happy; everyone wins!”

“I’m not— Whatever. Stop doing that."

“So, about scheduling, we need to decide the order of the speakers.” You said, still with a smirk on your lips. Viktor nearly sighed in relief.

“For venue number one, I think it should be me, biology second and you third.”

“There is no way I’m going last; I want to leave as early as possible, not to mention the bio students are probably going to be the largest crowd, so if anything, he should go last to retain the audience for as long as possible.”

“There’s the same amount of students in all disciplines.”

“I’m talking about the turnout on the day of, more people are going to show up for him.”

“How can you be so sure of that? You don’t even remember his name.”

“First of all, neither do you, and second of all, he is hot; all the students swoon over him.”

“That’s preposterous.” There was a tinge of more annoyance in his eyes.

“If you paid attention to anything other than those little blue crystals, you would’ve noticed.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not a good enough reason to change the schedule”

“Why can’t it be me, him, and you, then? You can close off the show, rock star!”

“We can both write out proposals for the order and present them to the others at our next group meeting; the best one wins.”

“Ugh, everything is a competition for you, isn’t it?” You said now visibly annoyed.

This comment seemed to irk him differently than usual; perhaps he felt you were right, or perhaps he felt hurt by your comment, but either way, it seemed to have worn him down. A sigh of resignation and a massage on his temples later, and he was apparently ready to give up.

“Have it your way then, princess.”

_____________________________________

This had an effect on you, but definitely not the one he intended. After writing the order of the schedule down and ironing out some other details, you offered to take this information to Lara so she could design the material for advertising. You would’ve gone to the art labs (more like studios, but they all called them labs since every researcher workspace was in the same wing of the Academy), but for obvious reasons you couldn’t, so you made plans to meet up at her dorm that very night.

Lara was as fun as you expected. Moira had been your only friend at the Academy for years. You always preferred to keep to yourself, and although Jayce was your friend too, technically, his proximity to Viktor made it difficult for you to hang around his work space without starting any fights, so hanging out with someone new felt refreshing.

The work meeting was quick. After you had settled into one of the comfortable puff chairs scattered throughout the small room, she began to offer you drinks and food. One gossip session later, she offered you one of her tiny nightgowns, and before you noticed, you were having a full-on slumber party.

It felt good to relax like this. You chastised Viktor a lot for being too obsessed with his work, but you weren’t too far off from that yourself, not having had a night to wind down with friends in at least a year. She made cocktails that tasted like sweet nectar and fruit too, so it was so easy for the both of you to be way over tipsy when you heard a knock on the door that she went to answer.

“Guess what, sweetheart! It's your worst enemy!” You heard her scream from over at the door and then come over, slightly tumbling, with a very confused Viktor on one arm. "Come, come, come, err... want a drink? Some chips? We’re havin’ some chips, aren’t we, hun? Here, have some chips..."

“Eh, no, thank you; I just came over to correct a mistake I made on the notes I sent her with. It should’ve said 6:00 pm instead of 8 p.m. on the first time slo— “

"Yeah, yeah, tell me again tomorrow, though I won’t remember,” Lara said again in between giggles as she let go of his arm and sat down on the bed.

Throughout all of this, you stayed silent, looking up at him as you sank into one of the puffs. He blushed for a second time that day, as you noticed, and he made it a point to look at the floor every time Lara spoke. When he looked at you, even though you tried to repress it, you smiled in amusement.

“Can you at least write it down?” He told you.

“I’ll write it down, yeah,” You said, crossing your legs.

“Now?”

“Are you in a rush, Vik?” You said standing up lazily.

There’s a kind of blushing that bares the soul— Not the kind where one’s embarrassed; you’ve seen that on Viktor plenty of times as it settled on his ears—the kind where you could see pink and peach and red all mix to boil over his cheeks. You didn’t know for sure, but the crinkle of his nose and the long but broken-up breath he took showed something beyond simple timidness, something darker.

Perhaps it was the scanty lace of your nightgown and your own spirit-induced rosy cheeks, or maybe you had unlocked in him a new level of rage. You wanted to see it again, that was for sure, whatever the cause was.

“You two seem to be having a lot of fun; write down the correct time, and I’ll be on my way”

And that you did, you had a lot more time to figure this out in your next meetings. He turned and left through the door as soon as he made sure the information was recorded, and you were left to silently ponder what you had just seen while you continued to have fun with Lara.

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

Viktor heel-and-toe raced all the way back to his dorm as fast as his legs allowed him. From the outside, it would seem he was trying to run away from something, and in a way he was. He thought maybe leaving the place was good enough to leave that feeling behind, but alas, it wasn't.

Only when the door handle did not turn did he notice his palms were sweating, and it went downhill from there. Every step he took inside his room came with a new realization. He sat in the dark for a while; his skin felt a little too much like skin, his heart was incredibly squeezed and restricted sitting in his throat, and his face was hot enough to boil the sweat dripping down his forehead. He would’ve mistaken this for unbridled rage in any other circumstance, he could have, if it hadn’t been for the uncomfortable feeling of tightness in his pants.

The line was so blurry, he thought, between rampant fury and arousal, they shared the same place in the brain and produced some of the same hormones. But this was not supposed to happen. There was so much more about you to loathe than to like, or at least that’s what he had always believed.

Perhaps this is why it feels so good to hate her, Viktor thought.

However, this felt like letting you win. And if you were right about something, it was that Viktor was competitive. A cold shower should do it.

#viktor #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader #arcane fanfic

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cainanders · 11 months

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wildfire 003

[001] [002]

warnings: more dirty talk, choking, jealousy, angst

A/N: this part is really long and for that I’m sorry. There’s really only going to be one maybe two more parts for this anyway. Please enjoy.

Two days later, you find yourself in Puerto Rico. You spend the first day photographing all of the arrivals, managing to take some scenic shots in between. Cody arrives some time in the middle of the day, and the fact that he’s wearing the blue suit isn’t lost on you. You discreetly take a few extra photographs of him, specifically of his hands, and just how snug his jacket is around his biceps.

After the arrivals and press conference, you have free time to sightsee. You make every effort to stay near the venue, in case you are needed for any last minute photo opportunities. Taking a break from your journey, you pull your phone from your back pocket to check your texts, finding one from Ziggler.

Have fun tonight. I’ll call you later.

You let out a sigh, unsure of how to respond. He was awkward via text messages, much better in person. On top of that, you felt bad that he wasn’t able to make the show in Puerto Rico. As you contemplate an answer, you receive a text from Cody. You type a quick response to Ziggler of two yellow heart emojis, and switch to the message thread from Cody.

Been trying to find you all day. What’s wrong? Scared to be alone with me?

With a chuckle, you begin to type a response, but another message quickly pops up.

I know it must be hard to keep your composure around me, what with how wet I get you just by fucking talking.

You’re tempted to tell him off, just to knock him down a peg, but he’s not wrong — it’s difficult not to give in to Cody when he flirts with you. Especially with the way your feelings had developed over the time you’ve been friends. That’s the other thing Cody was right about: the way you feel about him. It snuck up on you, and the exact feelings weren’t clear to you until he had brought it to your attention earlier in the week. No matter what you feel, you weren’t prepared to admit it yet, not to yourself and certainly not to Cody.

Shaking your head clear of the thoughts, you reply with three eye rolling emojis. You switch to your email account and scroll through, noting a follow up email from another employer that you had been conversing with.

A few weeks prior, you had received an email from a headhunter in regards to an open photographer position for a football club in Scotland. Initially you ignored it, having no desire to uproot your life and move to another country, but the idea is alluring. You let out a sigh, reading through the director’s newest offer, for more pay than you are currently receiving, and find yourself once again tempted. Still, you stash your phone in your pocket and switch your mind to Backlash.

You return to the venue to prepare for the start of the show. You try your best to avoid Cody most of the night, busying yourself with photographing others, and conversing with some superstars you’d not had the opportunity to meet before. You catch Cody staring at you every so often when you would cross paths, but he would make sure he didn’t look long enough to draw attention from others nearby.

Halfway through the show, you step outside of the venue to get some fresh air, the warm breeze much different than the air conditioning in the arena.

Checking your phone, you see a few texts from your friends along with another from Cody from earlier in the night. After quickly replying to your friends, you open the message from Cody.

Do you want to hang out tonight after the show?

Generally, you would spend time with Cody after big shows, watching a movie in the hotel or getting dinner with others. Tonight, something feels off, and you can’t place why. You figure it has to do with your blossoming feelings for Cody, but as quickly as the thought appears, you push it back.

You send a reply letting him know you can meet with him later, before you duck back into the entrance of the venue. Mindlessly, you pause every so often to take photos of the groups of superstars congregating around the backstage area.

As you aim your camera towards the locker rooms, you spy Cody speaking to a woman. She’s not someone that you recognize, and you assume she works for the venue or the press. You lower your camera, glancing around to see if anyone has noticed you, but resume studying Cody’s interaction when you’re satisfied no one is paying attention to you.

Cody is grinning as the woman speaks, and you try to convince yourself he’s just being the polite man that you know. When the woman leans in towards him, letting out an exaggerated laugh at whatever Cody said, you scoff.

“He’s never said anything that fucking funny,” you mumble to yourself.

The pair continue to chat, the woman discreetly moving closer to Cody as they speak. Wishing you could read lips, you take note of the way she bats her eyes at him, and how he brushes his hand on her arm in response. The contact being initiated by Cody makes you clench your teeth, and you lower your camera again.

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling an overwhelming sense of jealousy at the sight. You absentmindedly fiddle with the lens of the camera, leaving the area to find another photo opportunity that wouldn’t make you feel quite so frustrated.

As the night comes to a close, and you begin to pack your belongings, your phone vibrates from where you had stashed it in your bag. Seeing Ziggler’s name across the screen, you quickly answer.

“Hey, you. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he replies. “Just saw the end of the show, it was over pretty quick, huh?” You let out a light laugh at the brevity of Cody’s match with Brock.

“Yeah, well, you know Brock,” you sigh, zipping your bag closed. “Honestly though, I’m surprised he took a bump like that.” You hear him let out a small chuckle on the other line. “I wish you could have been here,” you say. “I tried to do some sightseeing earlier, but I barely knew where I was.”

“I can imagine,” he answers. You straighten your back, scrunching your nose slightly — his tone is off.

“Is everything alright?” you ask, quietly.

“I think we should talk.”

“Oh,” you say. “Like…now?”

“I think it’s best,” he says. There’s a pause, as if he isn’t ready to say what he knows he needs to say.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Nic,” you speak. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“I’m sorry,” he answers. “I mean, I care about you a lot.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I think I do,” he continues. “I know we aren’t officially a couple, but I hoped we could have changed that. Only I’ve been feeling you get more distant when I try to get closer. And I think it’s because of Cody.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you two are close. And I can see how much you care about him. I just don’t think that I can keep hanging around when you’re obviously not interested in this relationship evolving.”

“I’m sorry,” you reply. “I don’t know what else to say.��

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ziggler replies. “I promise, it’s okay. Have a nice time tonight, and we can always talk more when you get back.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Have a good night, Zig.”

———————

When you found Finn as you were preparing to leave the venue, the conversation started simple enough, and you had no intention of going anywhere with him. Two years prior, when you first started with WWE, you had a few drinks on a night out, and ended up going down on Finn at the hotel. It wasn’t your finest hour, and the two of you had managed to avoid the topic — until tonight.

You did not intend to follow Finn back to an abandoned locker room, and you certainly had no plans of recreating your previous incident, but here you are. You’re washing your mouth out at the bathroom sink, looking at yourself in the mirror as you do. You write it off to the emotions — from Ziggler ending your relationship to the vision of Cody flirting with someone else. Realistically, you know it’s neither.

Exiting the bathroom, you invite Finn to share a taxi to the hotel with you, and he accepts. As you walk from the venue, you pull your phone from your pocket and see a missed call and three texts from Cody.

“Fuck,” you say, reading over the messages.

Washing all of the blood off of me and then heading to the hotel. Meet you there?

Are we still hanging out?

Call me when you get a chance.

Placing your belongings into the trunk beside Finn’s bag, you both climb into the backseat and make the short journey to the hotel.

“Third floor?” Finn asks, as you both retrieve your bags from the trunk.

“I think so,” you reply.

“Me too,” he nods.

The conversation feels too friendly for what you had just done with Finn, and it gives you an odd, unwelcome sensation. Still, you remain polite with him as you take the elevator to your floor, and trek down the hallway in search of your rooms.

Once inside your room, you send a text to Cody letting him know you had just arrived, and ask for his room number. After brushing your teeth and changing into a shirt and sweatpants, you head to Cody’s room.

“It’s about fucking time,” he laughs, pulling the door open and yanking you into the room by your arm. “I watched an entire season of CSI while I was waiting.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you reply. “I wasn’t that long.”

“Are you alright?” he asks, watching you sit on the bed beside the window.

“Yeah, I guess,” you answer, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I think I’m getting a headache. It was a long night.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you sigh. “Sorry I was late, I got caught up at the venue.”

“Finn, too, huh?” he asks. You look up at him too quickly, and narrow your eyes.

“What?”

“I saw you guys in the lobby,” he shrugs. “I took a walk while I was waiting to hear from you.”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah, we were…busy.”

“You guys hook up?” Cody’s voice sounds casual initially, but you can hear the note of agitation peeking through in his tone. You let out a sigh and wave your hand dismissively at the question.

“I mean,” you begin. “I went down on him or whatever.”

“Sure,” Cody nods. “No big deal, right?”

“Why the fuck are you acting like this? It’s not like me and you are together.”

“No, we aren’t. But you’re with Ziggler, right? At least that’s what you tell me every fucking day.”

“Oh, come the fuck on,” you groan. “Grow up, Cody. I don’t fucking owe you anything.”

“No, you don’t, you’re right,” he says. “But you know what’s crazy to me? The way you get upset because you think I was flirting with some woman, or with Becky, who, in case you forgot, is married and, beyond that, is nowhere near my type…but you have fucked how many of my co-workers exactly?”

“Some of us didn’t have our pick of the litter our whole lives.”

“So, you’re making up for lost time by fucking anyone who shows you the slightest bit of attention?”

“Well, I haven’t fucked you, so I guess that’s not accurate, is it?”

“I’m probably the only guy you haven’t fucked at this point.”

“Y'know what?” you say, standing up quickly and walking towards the door. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this shit.”

“Don’t forget your phone,” Cody calls out. “I saw you drooling over Carlito earlier. Wouldn’t want to miss him calling to ask for a blowjob too.”

You spin on your heel, facing him again to see him standing in the same spot with your phone in his grasp. Stomping back towards him, you snatch the phone from him and throw a punch that, much to your surprise, connects with his jaw hard enough to jostle him to the side and make him lose his step.

“You fucking asshole,” you mutter, storming out of the room and slamming the door shut behind you.

————————

It has been a week since your argument with Cody, and in that week, you have done everything to avoid him. His comments about you were incredibly hurtful, and even if you knew why he said them, you didn’t expect him to speak to you like that. Still, the more you think about it, the more you realize what he was saying wasn’t wrong: you were flirting with Cody and hooking up with others, and it certainly wasn’t fair to him. In reality, you forgave him in your mind days ago, but you weren’t going to be the first one to talk.

You arrive at the hotel at the same time as a few other cars from the airport. You make your way to the front desk to retrieve your key, before heading to the appropriate floor.

Walking through the corridor in search of your room, you spot Cody exiting the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall. He flips the keycard in his hand mindlessly as he looks at the numbers on the doors, but after a moment, his gaze finds yours. To your surprise, he gives you a small smile, and stops in front of what you assume to be his room. With his eyes still locked with yours, he nods his head towards his door, his eyebrows knitting in question. Returning his smile, you nod, slipping your keycard into your pocket and heading towards Cody.

“I need to take a fucking shower,” Cody laments as you reach him.

“Yeah, I was just about to say,” you agree, as Cody opens the door.

“How kind of you,” he mutters, gently shoving you into the room. You laugh as you regain your footing, and move to drop your belongings on the bed nearest the window. “Hungry?” he asks, setting his bags down as well.

“Nah, I ate at the airport,” you sigh, stretching your hands over your head. When Cody doesn’t respond, you glance over to him, finding his eyes on you. “Can I help you?” you ask.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “Something’s off.”

“Uh, Nic ended things.”

“Ah, fuck,” Cody sighs, dropping his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “It’s not like I was in love with him or anything. We were just having fun.” You pause, biting your lip as you stare at the floor. “It’s fine,” you nod, looking back into Cody’s eyes. “I’m good.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” For a moment you don’t answer, simply pull in a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh.

“Yeah, okay.”

Cody nods and pulls a change of clothes from his duffel bag, before making his way to the bathroom. You follow behind him, hoisting yourself up onto the counter and leaning against the mirror while Cody meddles with the shower taps.

“How’d he break the news?” Cody asks, taking a step away from the shower and pulling his shirt over his head.

“He called me after right after Backlash ended,” you reply, covering your eyes with your hand to allow Cody the privacy to get undressed. “I know he’s been in a funk the last few months.”

“Makes sense,” Cody replies. “He hasn’t been getting a push like he used to.” You hum in agreement, lowering your hand from your face when you hear the shower curtain pull closed. “So, he broke up with you because he’s not over?” Cody asks from inside the shower.

“No, it’s not like that,” you reply, noticing that Cody had folded his dirty clothes in a neat pile on the toilet seat. “I think he…wanted something that I couldn’t give him.”

“Oh, so like you didn’t wanna do anal?” Cody jokes, his tone serious.

“Maybe so,” you laugh in response. “He asked once but I wasn’t interested.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely it then.”

“All jokes aside, we’re just in different places, we want different things.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, finding yourself no longer interested in the conversation. “Why do you fold your dirty clothes? Wouldn’t you end up getting them mixed up with your clean clothes?”

“I keep them in a different part of my bag,” he answers. “That’s a weird question. Are you uncomfortable with the conversation now?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, knocking your head back against the mirror harder than you intended. The shower curtain pulls back just enough for Cody to peek his head out so he can look at you.

“Hey,” he says, getting your attention. You tip your head to the side to look back at him, one of his eyes closed to avoid the shampoo that was rolling down from his forehead. “Ya’know, we don’t have to talk about any of this,” he says, wiping the shampoo back into his hair. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“Oh, yeah, like what?” you mumble, eyes cutting down to his jaw, his neck, and his collarbone that was just visible past the shower curtain.

“Maybe whatever it is you’re thinking about right now,” he rasps. You look back into his eyes with a quick grin, looking away as you feel the heat in your cheeks.

“Trust me, you’re not ready for that,” you chuckle.

“God, such a fucking tease!” Cody groans, ducking back into the shower.

“I thought this was just a joke thing that we have,” you laugh. “A witty little back and forth.”

“Your cute little jokes give me a hard-on sometimes,” he laughs.

“Sorry, I’ll ease up on the teasing, then.”

“No way!” he says, loudly. “I love it!”

The water turns off and you slip from the counter, giving Cody his privacy in the bathroom. You plop onto the chair on the opposite side of the room and pull your phone from your pocket. Mindlessly scrolling through your apps, you hear Cody enter the room and glance up briefly to see him stuffing the dirty clothes into a smaller compartment within his duffel.

You stare at him from the side for a few moments, noticing the black eye he had likely obtained during the match with Brock. It reminds you of the argument the two of you had that same night. You let out a sigh, turning your gaze from him.

“Sorry about punching you the other day,” you say, pulling your legs into the chair with you. “It wasn’t cool.”

“Don’t be, I deserved it,” he assures you, moving his belongings onto the desk beneath the television. “I was way out of line. What you do is your business, and it’s not my place to make comments on it. I mean, as long as you’re being safe, then who cares. I’m sorry I got you to that point.”

“You weren’t wrong,” you sigh. “I think I took the ‘sexually available, empowered feminist’ thing to an extreme.”

“No, not at all,” Cody chuckles, collapsing onto his bed and propping himself up on his pillow. “It was only, what, two guys? That’s not bad at all.”

“Three,” you reply, shifting in your seat to get a better view of him.

“Tell me.”

“It’s tacky to kiss and tell,” you respond.

“It’s just me,” he says, with a laugh. “You tell me everything.”

“Can I be totally real with you?”

“One hundred percent,” Cody nods.

“I’ve only ever had sex with two men,” you say.

“No way,” he responds.

“Yeah,” you nod. “A guy I worked with in my twenties, and Nic. When it comes to Finn and Punk, I just gave them head.”

“Wait, you hooked up with Punk?!” he asks. “When?”

“Last year, before the fight,” you say. “Honestly, I just wanted to get it out of my system. I wanted to see what it was like.” Cody laughs and stares at you expectantly.

“And?” he asks.

“It wasn’t bad,” you nod. “I expected more.”

“Oh, my God,” Cody laughs. “Rank them, please. I am begging you.”

“Between us?”

“Always. Smallest to biggest.”

“Ziggler, Punk, Finn.”

“So, Ziggy’s got a small dick, but you stuck with him,” Cody laughs, as though he is astonished by your claim.

“It’s not always about the size, moreso how you use it.”

“No, that’s not true,” he replies. “Guys just say that to gaslight women.” You laugh, shifting to hang your legs over the arm of the chair and rest against the other arm.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, toeing your shoes off of your feet so they fall to the floor. “I think I’m just gonna stay away from all of it for a while.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he agrees, putting his arms behind his head to relax further into his bed. “How many other guys have you hooked up with? Like apart from the ones you mentioned.”

“Oh, none,” you say.

“What?”

“I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-five, Cody. Needless to say, I wasn’t doing much else either.”

“So, when I met you,” he begins. “You were a virgin?” You nod your head, mindlessly picking at the tear in the knee of your jeans. “Goddamnit,” he sighs. “If I would have been your first, you wouldn’t have needed to go anywhere else.” You laugh loudly, glancing over to Cody to see him laughing in return. “I’m just kidding,” he says, through his chuckles. “At twenty-seven, I was more concerned with getting myself off.”

“I believe that,” you grin. “How many women have you been with?”

“More than two,” he says.

“How many?”

“Six. It’s been a few months though.”

“No way,” you reply. “You were talking to that girl in Puerto Rico, she was really pretty”

“I was talking to her, yeah,” he nods. “Not flirting.”

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t interested.”

“So, you’re gonna be abstinent until you find someone you’re interested in?”

“I’m already interested in someone,” Cody says.

“I know, Rhodey.”

You both remain silent for a few moments before you get out of your seat to grab some clothes from your bag. When you pull out the shorts and t-shirt, you glance at Cody, finding him watching you. You jokingly give him the finger, before heading to the bathroom to change clothes. You expected Cody to have put a movie on for you both to watch as you frequently do, but the television is still off when you enter the room.

You lay on the bed beside Cody, giving a quick sigh as you snuggle deeper into the blankets. He grins and watches you get comfortable, but you notice him staring and give him a glare as if to tell him to stop.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” he chuckles, as you settle on your side. “I thought you’d never want to talk to me again. Ya’know, after you punched me.”

“I don’t have a lot of friends, ya’know. My bench isn’t that deep, not a lot of options.”

“Sorry about Ziggler,” he answers, staring up at the ceiling. “Really. Even if I don’t like the thought of the two of you together…I don’t like you being upset either.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, as Cody tips his head to look to you. “We weren’t really together, just wasting time.” You watch Cody fight the slightly irritated look that threatens to tear through his pleasant grin. “Still I’m going to miss some of it,” you add.

“Like what?” he scoffs. “I mean, he didn’t make you squirt.”

“Neither did you, Cody,” you laugh.

“Ooh, touché.”

Cody bites his lip for a moment, a conflicted look in his eyes, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. You take his hand that lays on his chest and you flip it so his palm is up. Gently, you trace your fingertips along his hand, around his palm and up to his fingertips.

“What’s the deal with you and my hands, hm?” he asks, softly. You shrug, avoiding his gaze as you feel your cheeks warm from the question. “Do you want to know what I can do with these hands?” he whispers. “I promise it’ll be worthwhile.”

“I’m sure,” you reply, pressing your fingers to his pulse momentarily.

You shift into your back, your fingers still barely touching Cody’s hand, but he scoots his body closer to lay on his side next to you. He props his head up on his hand, elbow resting on the bed, and lays his other hand palm side up on your stomach, allowing you to continue tracing along his hand.

You grasp Cody’s hand and cut your eyes to look into his face as you bring his hand to your throat, pressing it there and awaiting his reaction. For a moment, Cody doesn’t react, but you see his eyes darting around your face, looking for something. You bite your lip, setting your hand on top of his and pressing his fingers to urge him along.

“I just want to see what it feels like,” you whisper.

“You never asked your boyfriend?” You have known Cody long enough to understand his emotions. As he speaks, you can tell he’s teasing, but there’s also a certain aggravation to his words and in his eyes that makes you second guess involving him in this situation.

“I trust you more than him,” you admit. This softens his gaze, and his thumb rubs gently along your jaw and your pulse. “And he wasn’t my boyfriend,” you add, knowing that Cody loves to hear this.

The tips of Cody's fingers begin to press more firmly against your throat, and you pull in a small gasp. Cody’s eyes cut between your mouth and your eyes, giving you every drop of his attention as he tightens his grip.

Your eyes begin to slip closed, thinking about your current situation. Asking one of your closest friends to choke you wasn't what you had in mind when you climbed into bed next to him. You’d expected to fall asleep watching a movie as you’d done many times before. The feelings that have developed within you regarding Cody have overwhelmed you, causing you to act on your impulses without even thinking twice.

“Open your eyes.” Cody’s voice drags you out of your thoughts, and you do as you’re told, looking into his eyes. “Does it feel good?” he whispers, his eyes on your mouth.

“Harder,” you reply. His eyes lock with yours again in an instant, and he licks his lips, tightening his grip on your throat. You struggle to pull in a breath, and immediately want more, hoping that your eyes are telling Cody just that.

“More, huh?” he grins.

As soon as you nod, Cody’s hand tightens again, completely cutting off your air. Your mouth opens in an attempt to breathe, and Cody’s eyes flash with panic, but you clamp your hand on his to keep it in place. You begin to grow restless, eyes slipping closed as you instinctively try to pull in breaths, wiggling around on the mattress.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Cody mutters, pressing his lips to your ear. “In my fucking bed, begging me to choke you for the first time. I’ll bet you’re fucking soaked right now.”

You feel the tip of his tongue graze along the shell of your ear, followed by his teeth tugging at your earlobe. Cody’s grip on you loosens for a moment, and you let out a squeak, causing him to release his grip entirely and pull back to look at you. Quickly, you pull in breaths quickly, and let out a cough, your eyes finding Cody’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping your jaw, his voice dripping with concern.

“Yeah,” you reply. “It felt good.”

“Yeah?” he smirked, turning your head to get a better look at your neck. “I hope it doesn’t leave a bruise. We’ll match.”

You take hold of his hand and bring it to your lips, giving a quick kiss to the palm of his hand. Cody lets out a sigh, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning it down onto the mattress. When he leans in to kiss you, a grin pulls at your lips, and you close your eyes in anticipation. His lips press to yours softly, testing the waters for a moment, until you let out a soft whimper. Cody groans in response, deepening the kiss.

The sensation of Cody’s mouth on yours makes your head spin more than when he was choking you, the build up to finally kissing him being overwhelming. You tighten your grip on his hand, and he squeezes your fingers in return, finally pulling back to allow you both some air. You pull both your and Cody’s hands back to your mouth, pressing his knuckles against your lips. For a moment, you stare into one another’s eyes in silence, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you’re about to say.

“I love you,” you mumble, hoping your words get lost against his knuckles.

“What was that?” Cody asks with a grin, pulling your hands away from your mouth. You don’t respond, but keep your eyes on him. “Say it again,” he whispers. “It’s just me.” Your eyes begin to well as you feel scared and overwhelmed, so you turn your head to avoid Cody’s gaze. “C’mon, baby girl,” he says, squeezing your hand. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. Cody remains silent, soothingly rubbing his thumb against your hand that he still holds. You try to reason with your mind, the more rational side of you saying that it’s okay to repeat it, to tell Cody how you feel. You feel the fear through your whole body, and you realize that you aren’t afraid of what Cody will say or what he will do, but you’re afraid that you aren’t ready.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

“That’s alright,” Cody says. You can hear in his voice that he is disappointed, but when you turn to see him again, his eyes light up, a smile on his face. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything,” he says. “Consider it erased from my mind.” He pulls your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one at a time. “Can I ask you something?” he whispers. You swallow hard, and reply with a nod. “That night I called you, and you were getting off—”

“Cody,” you sigh, biting your lip.

“Hear me out,” he chuckles, putting your hand on his cheek. “You said you were thinking about when we first met. What did you mean?” You pull in a deep breath, rubbing your thumb gently along his black eye.

“Your mustache. It was really sexy.”

“Oh, God,” he rolls his eyes, beginning to pull away. “Forget I even asked.”

“No, wait,” you chuckle, rolling over onto your side so your back is to him. “I’m joking, that mustache was awful.” Cody curls up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waits for an answer to his question. “That night after I met you in that stupid arcade, I kept playing the fucking coin pusher for like another hour,” you continue. “I was just on autopilot because all I was thinking about was you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Don’t be so smug,” you laugh, elbowing him playfully. “I kept replaying our stupid conversation over and over, thinking about how pretty your fucking smile was.”

“Pretty?” he echoes, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah,” you smile to yourself. “And bright, too.” Cody’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer against him and taking hold of your hands. “I couldn’t stop seeing it,” you continue. “All I could think about was what could have happened if you weren’t engaged.” You leave the comment on the air for a moment, but Cody doesn’t respond so you continue. “I dreamt about you that night,” you breathe out. “That you followed me to my hotel room.”

“Is this gonna make me hard?” he asks.

“You’re already hard, I’m just ignoring it.”

“C’mon, it’s like a semi, at most.”

“I dreamt that you kissed me,” you continue. “And we danced to some stupid song that you played on your phone. It was a slow dance but your hands were all over me.”

“That’s what you got off to?” Cody chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Not quite,” you chuckle. “But I’ll keep that to myself for now. I’m too tired to talk about it tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, kissing the top of your head. “Get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

—————————

You awaken at 4:30 in the morning, finding yourself still in bed with Cody. He had rolled onto his stomach in the night, and you hear him snoring softly.

You replay the night before in your head, feeling your stomach tighten at the thought of Cody choking you. Quietly, you slip from the bed and sneak towards the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. There is a very light mark on your neck from Cody’s hand, and as you trace your fingers over it, you can almost feel the sensation of him choking you once again.

The excitement you feel at the thought is immediately overshadowed as you remember what you said to him. You admitted your feelings to him, and he didn’t run. Granted, you mumbled the words, and refused to repeat them when he asked, but you feel your heart begin to race nonetheless.

Things are going to be different when Cody wakes up. From the choking, to the kissing, to the cuddling, and finally the admittance of feelings, you know that you aren’t going to be able to weasel your way out of the conversation that Cody will inevitably want to have. You swallow hard, and exit the bathroom, seeing Cody still asleep. Creeping across the room, you pick up your belongings, and quietly exit to head towards your own room.

You hurriedly get ready for the day, your mind filled with regret for your night with Cody. You think about the last week, from your breakup with Ziggler to your hookup with Finn, you feel overwhelmed. The last six months with WWE were a whildwind, and you barely had a moment to think about what you were doing.

As you lament, your phone buzzes from its spot on the bed and you quickly check to see a text from your boss.

Heard from a football club in Scotland, they’re desperate to get you on board. Saw the offer, and I know it’s better than what you’re getting now. Should I schedule a meeting?

For the text to have come through at that time, while you were questioning your decisions, you feel it must be a sign. You quickly type back a response letting your boss know that you’re interested in the position, and would like to meet to go over the next steps. You hit send before thinking and throw your phone back onto the bed. Briefly, you wonder if you should have had a talk with Cody before agreeing to meet, but you push the thought from your mind, convincing yourself it’s the right decision.

——————

You exit the office, making your way down the hall towards the locker rooms. Your heart pounds in your chest, mind racing with the right words to say when you break the news to Cody. As you near the locker rooms, you spot Cody talking to Sami, both of the men smiling and laughing. It gives you pause, thinking about how he’s going to take the news you’re about to give him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but can I steal Cody for just a moment?” you ask, approaching the two men quickly. “I’ll give him right back.”

“You can have him,” Sami teases. “I don’t need him.”

You step into a nearby hallway with Cody, out of earshot but still in the light. You toil for a moment, trying to think of how to start your sentence, but Cody quickly becomes impatient.

“Let me guess,” he begins. “‘Gee, Cody, I’m really sorry for sneaking out this morning, and I loved making out last night. Maybe we can try it again tonight?’ Absolutely, babe, I’m more than happy to accommodate.”

“My contract was transferred,” you say. “To a football club in Scotland.”

“Wait, what?” Cody asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“They reached out last month,” you continue. “The manager is a wrestling fan, he likes my photographs, and floated an offer.” You pause, avoiding Cody’s gaze as you look at anything else in the hallway. “I wasn’t going to accept at first,” you mumble. “But I just got out of a meeting with the big bosses…and they agreed to transfer it over.”

“Why?”

“I need to reset,” you say, finally looking at him. “It all got out of hand, so I just think some time away is best for everyone.”

“Okay,” he nods, slowly. “We’ll be in London a few times this year, so I can come visit. And I’m sure I’ll have some time off to be able to—”

“I’ll be hours away from London, Cody,” you interrupt. “And I don’t…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What’s not a good idea?” he asks. When you don’t respond, Cody realizes. “You need time away from me.”

“After last night…” you trail off. “I know I said it was you, and that I was scared to get serious because I didn’t think that I’d be enough for you, but I don’t think that’s true. I don’t know if I’m ready.” You pause briefly, looking down at the ground. “I think it’s a little bit about the attention,” you continue, softly. “I never got attention from guys when I was younger, and I like it. But I also feel too scared to try this. It’s like you said, I’m just doing what I can to avoid something real.” You pull in a breath that surprises you with how shuddered it is. “I’m gonna do like I said last night,” you say. “I’m taking a break from all of it. So I can get my head on straight.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Cody’s words are sincere, but not pleading, as if he’s accepting your choice, no matter how much he doesn’t want to — and your heart breaks at the sound.

“I’m too fucking selfish, Cody,” you breathe out, glancing up to him. “I can’t hurt you. If we get into this now, I don’t think it’s going to end well.” He nods his head slowly and lets out a choked laugh.

“I get it,” he says. “When are you leaving?”

“Next Monday. They’ve got housing set up for me, and the team has preseason stuff. It’s going to take me a while to get used to how they do stuff, I think.”

“Well,” Cody speaks. “We’ll have dinner before you leave and, uh, ya’know….I’ll see you before you go. I’ve got to get out to the, uh, ring. I’ll talk to you later.”

Cody turns and walks away from you, leaving you alone in the hallway. You lean back against the wall, letting out a sigh and feeling the tears welling at your eyes. You wonder if you’ve made the right decision.

#cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes smut #cody rhodes x reader

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foone · 1 year

Text

I closed the cell door behind him. The handcuffs were gone again, of course, but we'd long since run out of real pairs and zip ties we had on us, and didn't particularly feel like exhausting the storage room's supplies. Davis started giving him the talk about getting a phone call and all and the perp suddenly says "Look" with the kind of loud voice you can hear in your teeth.

He pulls out a locket from under his shirt (didn't Davis already search him? Why am I surprised...) and holds it up to the bars. "Look here, and listen."

I step forward and look at the odd object. It looks uncomfortable to wear against your skin, but I was never much one for jewelry anyway. No one was much surprised the tomboy became a cop, after all.

It's a crystal shape, like two pyramids attached together. It's a sort of shimmering black color with a tinge of red around the edges. But in the middle...

I look closer. There's a circle, beige, with wispy lines of white and orange mixed through it, like a badly mixed coffee with way too much milk. I momentarily get the feeling like I'm looking down from a great height.

I shake my head. Davis is asking what it is. The suspect shakes his head and puts it back under his shirt. "Just tell your boss this: Where is Venus?"

Weird little creep.

You go back to your work, trying and mostly failing to explain how that arrest went. You're pretty sure an official support shouldn't use the phrase "somehow" and "apparently" that many times. You're certainly going to have to explain this one, no way is this going to be accepted without further review.

Your near-antique desk phone rings. It's the chief. "I just got off a very stern phone call. I need you to let out the prisoner in cell 13 immediately. Don't worry about procedure, I'm sending this as an order in writing, just give them any shit you confiscated and show them the door. And I mean immediately. I'm coming down there now to sign the release papers that were just faxed to me, I want them out of the building in less than 5 minutes. Is that understood?"

You gulp. "yes sir. I'm on the way over now."

You're not even surprised when you unlock the cell that the fucker is in there playing on his phone. You personally confiscated that, you're sure. Maybe the geek had a couple phones, and hid one of them? You did a pretty comprehensive pat-down... Ew.

Davis walks up with the goods bag, but he's got his usual confused look twice as bad at the moment. Before he can even say the problem, you can see it from what he's holding. Or rather, what he's not. The transparent bag is empty, the seal is still in place.

Before you can even explain that you've somehow lost his stuff, the perp is standing up and telling you not to worry about their stuff. The Chief is still on the way and he's supposed to be here for this, but from that phone call it sounded like he didn't want any delays. You turn the key in the lock, and the mechanism engages, automatically sliding the door open.

Your oddest arrest of your career (and there has been some competition!) walks out the door, tugs at his shirt, and says a quick dismissive thanks, before heading down the hall towards a glowing exit sign.

The Chief finally shows up as he's walking away, and is visibly out of breath. You hand him the clipboard with the papers to sign, and he wheeze out a thanks, after a coughing fit that leaves him buckled over and giving you the most marvelous view of his shiny, shiny bald spot.

"so who was it who called to spring that jerk, if you don't mind me asking?"

"it was a conference call. That was the director of NASA and the President"

"of... NASA?"

"no, of the country."

"oh, my. Can he order the release of a prisoner?"

"I mentioned exactly that while I was on the phone, and I'm not sure of his exact wording but it was something like 'shut up, do it now, or there'll be a Black Hawk dropping a squad of marines in your parking lot in 15 minutes, and they'll do it for you.'"

"Jesus!"

"so I said 'yes sir, will do'. He said the DOJ will figure out the justification later."

"This isn't over, is it? We're gonna be doing paperwork and lawsuits over that little fu... freak for a while, aren't we?"

"probably. But get this: The president himself told me not to mention this to anyone, but since you were there I think you should know. Besides, I haven't signed anything yet... Remember how the director of NASA was on the line too?"

"yeah, that was odd. What's this guy, some renegade astronaut who's late for his flight or something?"

"no idea. But apparently his magician talents don't end with pulling rabbits from hats and escaping from your handcuffs. They think he somehow palmed the planet Venus."

You blink slowly. "what"

"yeah. Whole damn planet is gone. NASA is not happy. The military is very worried."

"about Venus?"

"No, more about what else he can do, I imagine. If he can grab a planet out of the sky, what could else can he do? Borrow a tank? Steal a nuke? Drop the moon on DC?"

"I see their point."

Your walk-and-talk comes to its end as you arrive back at your office. You look at the big windows, and you can see the strange man still crossing the parking lot. He pauses by a squad car, then looks back at the window, before giving you a big thumbs up.

The Chief has to stop you from running after him, as he opens the door to your car and drives off. "Don't. We'll figure this out, I'll get you another vehicle. I am not getting an angry call from the dang president TWICE in one day."

You're never going to finish the paperwork from today, you can feel it in your bones.

#my writing #This was an old story idea from years ago that I never got around to writing out #Dunno if it'll go anywhere else #Probably not

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enterpris · 3 months

Text

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 12

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: public speaking, mild-mid anxiety

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

You wake the morning of the conference, the last thing you have to deal with before you get the fresh start of a new term.

You’re a cocktail of feelings as you dress and get ready- pride at the work you’ve done, anxiety at the prospect of speaking in front of a crowd of people, uneasiness about seeing Gojo, the joy of finishing your first term.

But you know your feelings will settle, all that’s left to do is give the presentation. You pay special attention to your clothes today- opting for professional wear that exudes confidence. You’ll need it.

After one last check in the mirror, you head out the door and down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Your stomach is in knots and the thought of breakfast is nauseating, even though you need the energy. You settle for a cup of miso soup you can sip on to ease your nerves. As you drink the broth, you run through the prepared speech in your head, hitting each beat as the cafeteria fills with returning students.

You meet Saito and Kuzume at the metro stop, and your heart is already beating fast as you board the train. The three of you make some light conversation, but it’s clear that you’re all feeling nervous.

The metro speeds away from campus, towards the outskirts of the city- the event is being held at an upscale hotel a few kilometers from the university. The presentation is all you’ve been able to think about for the past week, and the underground route as you travel doesn't offer much distraction. You still have no idea how many attendees will be present, and this will be a critical opportunity to make new connections in the educational world.

The biggest pit in your stomach isn’t from the presentation though. The first time you’ll see Gojo in over a month will be on a stage in front of hundreds of people, and you have no idea what to expect. You only hope that he won’t be as cold to you in front of an audience as he was when you last talked.

When you exit the metro and find the hotel, the venue seems even more grand than you had imagined. The auditorium is large enough to hold several hundred people, and is nearly full of professionals mingling. Large windows near the ceiling let in natural light, which makes the beige interior feel more lived in. Butterflies dance in your stomach- you’ve never spoken in front of a crowd even a fraction of this size.

You take in the enormous space, and your heart stutters as you see Gojo across the room.

He’s talking with someone you don't recognize, but the other man is dressed nicely and wearing a lanyard. He must be one of the attendees then. Gojo towers above his companion, lean and impeccably dressed as always- wearing tailored slacks and a fitted button down. What catches your attention most, though, is that he’s not wearing his sunglasses today. You glance at the bright artificial lights and sunlight bathing the room. His eyes must already be sore.

That’s not your concern though.

Gojo’s silence over text had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in continuing your friendship or anything more outside the confines of this project. You can work civilly with him for this presentation, and hopefully keep contact at a minimum for the remainder of your degree.

You walk with Kuzume and Saito deeper into the event space. A section of chairs has been roped off for your class of presenters, and the three of you head towards the rest of your class in the audience. Nerves have made some of your classmates chatty, and you let the wave of noise wash over you without really listening.

You give Kuzume a wan smile as you sit next to her. She follows your eyes to where Gojo is standing and smiles sympathetically.

"Just this last day."

You nod, but your throat feels tight when you look down.

A classmate passes around a schedule of the events for the day and how to access the stage for your presentation. Your class will speak in the morning, there will be a break for refreshments, and then an optional series of speakers in the afternoon. You and Gojo are fortunate- you've been slotted as the third group to speak. There won't be the pressure of speaking first or the dreadful anticipation of being the last group.

Many of the other attendees have found their seats by now, and the lights dim to indicate the impending opening. An older gentleman steps onto the stage, introduces himself, and welcomes the speakers and attendees.

“We are thrilled to be joined by students from the University of Tokyo's teaching program. Today they will share the results of their cutting edge curriculum research.”

He introduces the first pair and the crowd of academics gives a warm welcome to the group. Their presentation goes smoothly, quickly discussing their examples. The second group is announced and your anxiety spikes as they take the stage.

You head to the side door, where you can watch their speech from the wings of the stage. The second group's explanation flies by and you fidget as you wait for them to conclude. If it’s possible, the crowd looks even larger from this angle than it did when you were walking amongst them.

Then your name is announced with Gojo's and you're walking into the bright lights of the stage. It might be biased, but you swear the applause is louder and longer than it had been for your prior classmates.

You are supposed to kick off the presentation, and for a moment as the cheers from the crowd wane, your heart in your throat, you think you might choke. There’s too much riding on this moment, there’s been too much leading up to the event. The emotion crashes down on you.

But when the applause completely tapers and it's time to introduce yourself, you look specifically at your classmates. Through the bright lights, Saito and Kuzume are smiling at you, and the anxiety subsides. You picture your class at the Eikaiwa school and just like you’ve done a thousand times, you’re going to present a lesson. You take a deep breath and begin the presentation.

With your nerves gone, you are really an excellent speaker. This is information you care about, and presenting today could open the door of a teaching job when you graduate. You speak easily to the crowd, allowing your passion and care to shine through your words as you describe the research you did and how you chose your example problems. All the preparation pays off too- your tone and pacing are natural and you hit each beat you'd rehearsed.

Your smile is genuine when you pass the presentation back to Gojo. He seamlessly picks up where you left off, but his eyes linger on your face for a moment when he begins speaking.

Of course, Gojo is an excellent orator. He expands on your points and grins easily at the crowd as he describes his research studies and example problems. He's truly in his element, alight with charisma and passion as he effortlessly reconnects his research and details with your own. The extra discussion of how your data works together elevates the presentation and truly shows the combined care you each put into this project.

He’s so different than you’ve seen him in class or even when working together, and you find your heart aches with how much you can see his love for his future students. You can’t help it, you’re awash with admiration for the man beside you.

The lights of the stage make his hair flash, and his eyes sparkle. In what feels like a moment, Gojo finishes the presentation with a flourish.

Applause fills the hall as you bow and return to your seat. Saito and Kuzume give you thumbs up and whisper compliments as you sit. Without the fear of the presentation gripping your stomach, a wave of pride engulfs you. The paper, the presentation, so much work culminated in this one moment, and warmth fills your body. Hearing the affirmations from your friends and peers and the approval of other figures in academia certainly boosts your confidence too.

You peer out into the sea of people, looking for Gojo’s distinctive hair. You’d lost him as you returned to your seat after speaking, which is probably for the best. And although you wish that you could appreciate the moment with Gojo, worrying about him will just distract from the rest of the accolades.

Saito and Kuzume both deliver wonderful presentations, and you clap loudly for each. Your friends are passionate and smart, and their expertise in their subject areas truly shines when they speak. Once the last groups have finished their accounts, the host of the conference re-joins the stage and dismisses the crowd. It’s time for the networking and socializing of the after ceremony.

Watching your peers present their semester’s work was a good distraction, but as the seated participants disperse and begin to mingle, your earlier emotions catch up with you and the thought of speaking to strangers and making good impressions is almost too much to bear.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you take a moment to reconstruct the poise you’ll need for the next few hours. If it didn’t break every social nicety, you would head back to campus now. But to actually succeed in Japan, to stay and build your life and professional career here, connections are vital. If there’s an administrator in the audience who liked your presentation or another teacher in the same field with a job opening in the future, making a good impression today could make all the difference down the line.

Besides, what are the chances you’ll run back into Gojo? Given how quickly he left after class and his reputation, he wouldn’t stay and socialize.

You’ve got to pull yourself together. The muffled bubble of conversation leaks through the thin walls as you turn the faucet on. The water is bracingly cold on the skin of your hands and it forces you out of the anxiety that has followed you all day.

With a final look at your reflection, you dry your hands and settle your resolve.

Striding back into the event space, your mask is firmly in place. The group hosting the event spared no expense for catering and drinks- there are dozens of tables lined with appetizers, and the conversation of hundreds of people resounds off the high ceilings. You lift your chin and enter the line for the nearest table.

As you grab an appetizer, you feel the attention of someone by your side. You look up, and Gojo is standing next to you.

He gives you an easy smile, peeking over the rims of the glasses.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.”

“It went pretty well, I told you we didn’t have to worry.” His voice is light as he reaches over you to grab a small plate.

You're not sure what to say, you hadn't prepared to talk to him beyond the presentation itself, and even after pulling yourself together in the bathroom you'd rather not have to speak to him. After his silence and frigidity, it's strange that he's acting chummy now.

“Yea, well, I’m glad that we still prepared.” You swallow. “Not all of us are used to speaking at events.”

You avoid looking directly at him, keeping your attention on the limitless trays of food in front of you. Without the pressure of delivering a speech to a crowd, it’s still painful to be this close to him.

“Hey, they’d never know! Maybe you’ve got more of these in your future.” You can hear the smile in his voice now. “Or maybe it’s all that practice from teaching already.”

You’re not sure what to say. While being hosted by the symposium is an incredible occasion, you’re thankful it’s over now.

“Our cohort was lucky to have the opportunity. All of our classmates did well.” You respond.

He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Our speech was a standout. You don’t have to be modest, I really think you did well.”

The sudden friendliness after freezing you out is more painful than not interacting at all, you’re left feeling confused and overwhelmed by his closeness.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe I’ve even got some competition now? You know, there’s more of these year round and-”

You turn to face him and cut him off. “Hey sorry, I don't have much time to talk, I told Saito I’d meet her. I’ll see you around, Gojo.”

Excusing yourself is the politest thing you can do right now. Some of your other classmates have gathered around one of the tables near the middle of the space. It’s safe to bet that Gojo won’t follow- even surrounded by peers and academics, he hardly bothers to converse with anyone.

After the emotional highs and lows of the day, you're not in the mood to politic or network. You stand in the vicinity of your peers for appearances sake with a bland smile and plate in your hand. After a half hour that feels like an eternity, you decide you've been there long enough and say a couple quick goodbyes.

The air outside the building is as sweet as you've ever tasted, and the natural light of the afternoon warms your skin when you've made it out of the hotel.

You decide to walk home instead of taking the train the couple stops back to campus. Your chest feels heavy. Some parts of you are glowing with pride after the successful presentation- the compliments from attendees were flattering, and also helped to reassure you of your success. A deeper, more raw part of you feels jilted by Gojo’s behavior.

After being silent all summer and barely working with you on the presentation flow, it was absurdly bold of him to act so friendly during the after ceremony. You could accept if he didn’t want to be close or if he did, but his hot and cold behavior is driving you absolutely crazy. You can only pray that he’ll be absent from your classes this term- perhaps he’s tested out of them again.

You resign yourself to a mix of feelings when you walk into your dorm, but try to focus on the positives in your own space. The window lets in the golden light, and you light a candle before sitting at your desk. You breathe deeply and the pressure of the day melts away. You pull up your computer and prepare to review the syllabi for your upcoming classes- sinking into the familiar rhythm of studying and your academic schedule.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #light academia #jjk x reader #gojo #reader insert #EiA

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gravitywonagain · 4 months

Text

Sympathy for the Devil; part 2

discord got me to finally write a connecting scene, so here! have some more of this nonsense au now based only vaguely on the blacklist! [part 1]

“Alright. What do we know about him?”

Luo Qingyang stands at the back of the small conference room facing the large projector screen on the opposite wall. Her uniform jacket is draped over the back of the chair in front of her, and her fingers curl and uncurl of their own volition, kneading the dark blue fabric into the cushion beneath it. This is not what she expected her morning to look like.

Her team -- her and Lan Wangji’s team, now -- is gathered at the table in front of her.

Nie Zonghui has several stacks of photocopied notes spilling out of an open manilla folder, two highlighters, four sizes of sticky notes, and a legal pad in front of him. He has blue ink on his neck where the tip of the pen resting behind his ear rubs whenever he turns his head to the left. Frustration rolls off of him in waves.

Lan Jingyi is typing rapidly on his CBC-issued laptop which is angled toward Luo Qingyang just enough that she can see he has six different windows open and is in desperate need of at least two external monitors. The overworked fan is almost louder than his heavy-handed, caffeine-fuelled typing. He’s twisting back and forth in the swivel chair, dragging his toes across the carpet, but swivels to a stop at her question.

Qin Su stands off to Luo Qingyang’s right, placing photos -- mostly grainy or blurred -- in an ever expanding evidence map. At the top, with a dozen or so threads leading away from its pin, is a crisp, clean, photo of a man wearing an approximation of the CBC Academy uniform, smiling brilliantly at the camera. Beneath him, the title card reads: Yiling Laozu, Wei Wuxian.

“Yiling Laozu?” asks Lan Jingyi, one foot tapping out a vague rhythm against the leg of the conference table.

Luo Qingyang restrains her eyeroll, only because she can see that at least four of the open windows on his laptop are chasing down information regarding Yiling Laozu’s associates, rather than the demonic kingpin himself.

“Yeah,” she says. “Break it down for me.”

“Well,” says Qin Su, moving from the board to the open folio near her, “he’s a bit of a recluse, so we don’t actually know a lot.”

Her folio is much better organized than Nie Zonghui’s.

“Start with the basics.”

Qin Su nods, “Right. Yiling Laozu. Wanted for-- basically every kind of spiritual crime known to the CBC. He invented the Ghost Path in his late teens or early twenties, we think. It’s unclear, what with all of the rumor and suspicion and superstition around even saying his name--”

“Yeah, he really looks like a boogeyman…” says Nie Zonghui. He’s stressed. They should never have sent him into the room with Wei Wuxian.

Lan Jingyi says, “Hot boogeyman. If you ask me--”

Luo Qingyang clears her throat pointedly. “Nobody did. Moving on?”

“Yup!”

Qin Su points to Lan Jingyi who taps a few keys on his -- very abused -- keyboard and takes over the projector. He throws several pages up on the wall, photos with short but damning rap sheets.

“Known associates include Gui Jiangjun and Mo Daifu,” she says, indicating the sheets labeled Wen Qionglin and Wen Qing respectively.

She points to Lan Jingyi again and a very low-light black and white shot comes up center-screen. It shows a man who could potentially be Wei Wuxian entering a building that is definitely Two Fans. The brilliant green of the sign is lost, but it is plenty readable. “He has been seen entering the Headshaker’s club on several occasions, but any actual association remains speculative at best.”

Nie Zonghui shrugs in the corner of Luo Qingyang’s eye. “He might just have good taste in venues.”

All three other agents in the room turn to look at him, brows quirked or furrowed or raised to different degrees.

Nie Zonghui shrugs again, “What? It’s a nice club.”

Wei Wuxian rubs at the zip tie dent around the outside of his wrists. He plays it up a little, wincing and groaning just enough to be heard.

Still, Lan Wangji doesn’t look at him.

It’s fine.

He follows the CBC Director and field agents out of the interrogation room and down a long, boring hallway. Lan Qiren and the other cultivator break off through one of the nondescript doors -- room 129-9, Wei Wuxian notes out of habit -- and then it’s just Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian following Lan Wangji. Down a long, boring hallway.

It feels like old times. Especially as Wei Wuxian finds his eyes… wandering.

The Bureau slacks look unfairly good on Lan Wangji, blue wool hugging tight to the curves of his legs and ass in a way no law enforcement uniform should ever be allowed to do. It’s rude. He must get them tailored.

Lan Wangji leads him through another nondescript door -- room 157-3 -- which opens up into a large bullpen. Heads swivel in their direction, eyes snagging on Wei Wuxian and his casual state of dress. Everybody else in here is wearing uniforms in one state of undress or another, while Wei Wuxian is wearing ripped black jeans and a heather red v-neck. Hopefully he’ll get his jacket back soon. He spent a good amount of time stitching talismans into it; he’d like not to have wasted the effort.

Eyes un-snag; heads swivel back toward screens. Wei Wuxian remembers the strength of Lan Wangji’s glare and he imagines it’s only become more powerful with age and seniority. He can practically feel the shiver up his own spine.

Or maybe that is a shiver up his spine.

It’s strangely nostalgic, being here, even though Wei Wuxian is fairly certain he has never been in this particular room before. But that doesn’t really matter. The layout is the same, the furniture is the same, even the smell is the same. The computers have been updated, at least, but not within this decade.

Lan Wangji’s office is nice. Clean and minimalist, as expected. Stark white walls, a meticulously curated bookcase, and a matching walnut and glass-top desk. No pictures, no wall art, not even a particularly fancy name plate. The closest thing to a personal touch anywhere in the room is the tea set Lan Wangji’s mother made for him before she died. Wei Wuxian’s fingertips still remember the soft, inexpert curves of the cups.

The door clicks closed behind him and the silence that settles is almost crushing.

Tension pulls the lines of Lan Wangji’s shoulder blades toward the middle of his back, which is still turned to Wei Wuxian. His hands slowly curl into fists by his side.

A familiar ache twists in Wei Wuxian’s gut -- has been twisting in his gut for almost an hour now. The ache for Lan Wangji’s eyes to be on him. The ache for his attention, for his reaction. Anything, really. Since the day he met Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian has always just wanted to break through that barrier Lan Wangji puts around himself, and to really touch him.

Metaphorically.

And literally, but that’s something else.

Probably.

Now, Lan Wangji’s long braid shifts across the navy fabric of his uniform coat as he turns his head to the side, the shining plait slipping like snake scales through water. Wei Wuxian holds his breath, waiting for the bite. He watches the tension held in Lan Wangji’s jaw forcibly release, and then, finally:

“Wei Ying.”

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #luo qingyang #lan jingyi #nie zonghui #qin su #mdzs #the untamed #cql #fanfiction #the blacklist au #i still probably won't finish this #but it's very fun to play with #it is entirely crack #so have fun with it!#my writing #also for anyone who really likes the actual show this was inspired by #sorry #we're deviating pretty heavily away from that concept and rolling with something that's more loosely inspired

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meggie-jolly · 6 months

Text

I finally finished another scene for the Malex Red, White and Royal Blue AU! This scene is inspired by an amazing trip to Paris I took at the beginning of October. I meant to finish writing this right after, but writers block hit and it took me way longer than planned. I actually went to a wine and cheese tasting at the restaurant I mention in the story. The people who organised the tasting are called We Taste Paris, they have a website and an instagram, and they put together an amazing experience for our group. You can find all the posts about this AU here. The tag list is at the end, let me know if you want to be added or removed. Read it on AO3 here.

Alex got out of the conference in Germany and they plan to spend some time together in Paris outside of the fundraiser. Michael is honestly not sure if he would prefer to see Alex privately before or after the public event with all the cameras and press. It will be damn near impossible to keep his hands of Alex after not seeing him for weeks and after what happened at the Polo match, but the idea of going to a public event right after he and Alex had alone time and preferably shared multiple orgasms is terrifying. What if someone can tell? Obviously they know better than to leave any marks, but… it seems risky either way.

In the end their schedules decided for them because Alex is asked to do another royal engagement in Paris to make up for Germany and he will be arriving just in time for the fundraiser to start.

Michael very pointedly doesn't watch the entrance for the entire half hour he's at the venue before Alex arrives. When he finally does, Michael pretends not to notice him right away and waits a couple of minutes before walking over as if by accident to greet Alex. He might deserve a fucking Oscar for this performance, if you ask him.

Michael and Alex shake hands and then do a sort of bro hug that Michael hopes comes of as casual and not like he kind of just wants to burry his head in the crook of Alex' neck and stay there for a few hours. He can feel Alex softly tugging on one of his curls and hopes no camera caught that.

After that it’s a few hours of typical public appearances stuff. Lots of cameras, lots of fake laughs, lots of people who pretend to be more important than they are and no chance for Michael and Alex to exchange more than a few glances and one or two small talk phrases in passing.

A few hours later they were finally free of the obligations and head into the city.

“You said you wanted French cheese. I found someone who was willing to organize a private wine and cheese tasting for us. Interested?”

Michael laughs. “Seriously? Yeah, of course. I can’t believe you organized a private wine tasting. Isobel will be so jealous."

A pleased smile forms on Alex's lips that makes something in Michael buzz in a way that should make him nervous, but instead just makes him smile back.

Alex pulls out his phone and opens the navigation app. "It's a little more than a ten minute walk, do you mind?"

"Not at all, it'll be nice to see the city not through the window of a car."

Alex nods and glances at their PPOs to get their ok as well and then he leads the way into one of the smaller side streets of Paris. The PPOs hang back a bit and it all feels achingly normal, so normal that Michael almost reaches out to take Alex's hand.

Which would be stupid for so many reasons. Number one being, that they are not like that. They don't hold hands. They antagonize each other over text and sometimes they get each other off. Well, and apparently today they take a walk through a warm Parisian evening to have wine and cheese. Definitely no handholding.

They take a wrong turn somewhere so it takes them a little longer than ten minutes, but eventually Alex leads them into a little courtyard that is decorated with lots of frogs and they meet a guy named Andre who leads them into a private room of a little restaurant named Roger la Grenouille that has even more frogs inside. He explains that the restaurant is famous for its frog legs.

Once Andre is gone to get them their first round of wine and cheese Michael nudges Alex. "I'm really glad you didn't bring me here for frog legs."

Alex chuckles "They're not that bad. I'm not exactly a fan, but they are better than oysters or other mussels."

"Good to know. I've had oysters at a fancy dinner once, I thought I had learned to eat almost everything, but I really struggled with finishing those."

"Why do they always serve the strangest things at the fanciest dinners? Who is actually impressed by these things?"

"I wish I knew. Give me good greasy diner food over fancy dinner menus any day."

Alex nods in agreement and they are laughing together when Andre comes back with a bottle of wine and a waitress with a tray of cheese and a basket of bread behind him.

Andre tells them where the wine and cheese comes from and while Michael appreciates it, he isn't really in the right headspace to retain the information right now. So he just nods along and is glad when Andre steps out of the room discreetly and leaves them alone.

The wine is great and the cheese even better. Michael and Alex savor each new combination Andre brings in and Michael feels like he could sit there all night, watching Alex become more and more relaxed and open.

Eventually they have sampled all the wine and cheese that Andre prepared for them and they agree to a quick picture with Andre and his partner for their business instagram before heading out. Their PPOs have been served cheese and bread as well and even get to take a bottle of wine with them to enjoy once they are of duty.

Michael feels warm and tipsy and happy and he can't wait to get his hands on Alex back at the hotel. He wonders if Alex feels the same when he asks his PPO to get them a car instead of suggesting they walk back.

Sitting in the back seat next to Alex without being allowed to touch him feels torturous, especially when Alex's hands keeps moving closer to his and eventually their fingers touch.

The anticipation grows and grows and they are finally at Michael's hotel, they make it up to the room and Michael sinks to his knees in front of Alex almost as soon as the door closes behind them. He wants to kiss him, but getting his mouth n Alex' dick feels less risky right now for some reason. He isn't going to think about what a kiss would be risking. Instead he works on improving his blow job skills. Judging by Alex' reaction, he might be getting better. Not that Alex had seemed disappointed the last time.

They make it to bed at some point and there is kissing and orgasms and Michael is blissed out and still happily wine drunk. It feels dangerously close to perfect and just so fucking French that he forgets that they aren't supposed to spend the night. Casual frenemies with benefits don't spend the night.

But that night they do and he's not sure if it's all the wine, or the orgasms, or the fact that he get's to sleep in Alex' arms with Alex' face buried in his curls, but he can't remember the last time he slept so well.

He wakes up in the morning and Alex is still asleep. Michael can't help but lay next to him and just watching him. He wants to trace every scar and map them out, try to take their pain away, but he can't, he can just watch and ignore the nagging feeling that he shouldn't be doing this.

Alex wakes up and they have decadent French room service breakfast and Alex sings along to French songs on the radio that Michael can't understand but that still sends shivers down his spine.

When Alex has to go, he leaves a bottle of the wine from last night they both liked best and Michael isn't sure he'll ever be able to drink it. But he wraps it in multiple layers of clothes onto his suitcase and hopes it will survive the trip back to the sates.

By the time he lands he has a text from Jenna with a link to an article about the fundraiser that has a whole paragraph about him and Alex and their friendship. Jenna added a caption: 'At least you didn't fuck this one up. Good job I guess.'

There is another text from Isobel, who somehow found the Instagram post about him and Alex at the wine tasting and wrote: 'You went to a Parisian wine tasting without me?!'

It's weird to see the evidence of their time together like that, through the eyes of his friends, family and the public who see them as nothing more than friends or even forced allies. He supposes it will stay like that, articles about their 'bromance' friendship while they occasionally find the time to get each other off. He knows it's ridiculous, this is purely physical and that's not changing, ever, but he kind of already misses Alex.

@mimi-and-the-next-20th-century @thekiranzm28 @idealuk@angrycowboy @granfalloontje @dabb444 @dr-lizortecho

#rnm rwrb au #malex #paris #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #red white and royal blue #malex rwrb au #my writing #alex manes #michael guerin

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uksresort · 1 year

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Accommodations with Full-Service Amenities at the Best Resort Near Pune

One Day Picnic Spot Pune of the best destinations to enjoy some enjoyable time with your loved ones is the newly constructed UK's Resort. The resort, which is located in the Sahyadri mountain range near the, will never cease to astound you with beautiful views of its surroundings. Participate in games, water activities, rope activities, and adventure activities to improve your experience. Enjoy the delectable dinners, breakfast, Hi tea, and snacks.

#One-day picnic spot in Mumbai #one-day picnic spot Pune #function rooms near me #conference venues #wedding reception venues #conference venues near you #outdoor wedding venues

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beardedmrbean · 5 months

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Aholiday party hosted by local Michigan politicians turned into a pro-Palestinian protest that reportedly led to a violent shoving match resulting in one Democratic activist being hospitalized.

The incident occurred December 16 during a private holiday party hosted by the 13th Congressional District Democratic Party at the Common Pub in Detroit. Things quickly became raucous when about 20 to 30 pro-Palestinian protesters, part of the Palestinian Youth Movement and Party for Socialism and Liberation, entered the bar and confronted Representative Shri Thanedar over his support for Israel.

The metropolitan Detroit area has become a hotbed since Hamas launched a surprise attack in Israel on October 7, leading to protests and tension-filled situations between local Jews and Palestinians.

Thomas Becker, a spokesperson for Thanedar, told Newsweek via email that some 200 people were in attendance. No security was present, and the only people there before the situation escalated were party goers and venue staff. He had no further comment.

Wayne County Commissioner Jonathan Kinloch, who represents District 2, posted a 45-second video clip from the event on X, formerly Twitter. Pushing, shoving and yelling can be seen and heard in the footage, all taking place over gospel music in the background.

Kinloch said the pro-Palestinian supporters "caused chaos and mayhem," badly injuring local Black activist Bobbie Avington-Smith, a Democrat. She suffered two black eyes and was admitted to a local hospital for medical attention, according to Bridge Detroit.

Newsweek reached out to Kinloch via phone and email for comment.

Detroit Police Department spokesman Jordan Hall told Newsweek on Wednesday that the incident is still under investigation and that no arrests have been made.

"It was something we never expected," 91-year-old party attendee Bernice Smith told local ABC affiliate WXYZ.

One attendee told Deadline Detroit that protesters chanted, "Shri, you can't hide, we charge you with genocide," in reference to the thousands of Palestinian deaths in Gaza in relation to the ongoing Israel-Hamas conflict.

A video posted on Instagram by the account "detroit2palestine" shows former Detroit Police Commissioner Bernice Smith using her cane to defend herself against protesters.

Smith's son, Sterling Jackson, told Bridge Detroit's Malachi Barrett that he was the first person to jump into the fray because he feared for his mother's well-being.

"I started it because I couldn't believe they are doing this and nobody was doing anything," Jackson said.

On Monday, a joint press conference was held by Thanedar, Kinloch and other Democrats representing the 13th district who referred to the protesters as rioters.

"They didn't have a right to be there, first and foremost," Kinloch said, according to video from the press conference posted on X by Barrett. "It's not about whether or not they were being violent, whether or not they were being disruptive. They were not supposed to be there.

"The owner asked them to leave, I asked them to leave. They refused to leave so they were removed from a place where they had no business and no legal right to be in."

Kinloch added that there was no security because it was a holiday party aimed to be a celebration and nobody expected any protests or violence, adding that they put the safety and security of senior attendees at risk.

Any concerns about Thanedar's position on the war in Gaza could have been accomplished via other avenues, Kinloch added.

"This is not going to give you support for your cause," Thanedar said on Monday. "I welcome them to come to my office. I welcome them to invite me to town halls where I could come and we can have a dialogue."

Wayne State University, located near the pub, and Detroit police responded to the scene.

Last year, the city of Dearborn drew national attention when its residents elected Abdullah Hammoud as its first Muslim and Arab American mayor. Hammoud has been outspoken in support of the Palestinian cause the past two months, leading a city of about 110,000 residents composed more than half of citizens of Middle Eastern or North African (MENA) ancestry and mostly Arab.

Michigan, one of a handful of states expected to decide the 2024 presidential election, is home to about 90,000 Jewish residents and more than 300,000 residents of Middle Eastern descent.

A recent Newsweek poll of eligible Michigan voters found that about 46 percent of respondents disapprove of President Joe Biden's handling of the conflict.

In contrast, while Republican front-runner Donald Trump has led Biden in recent polls in Michigan, a statewide poll conducted in November found that Trump's various legal battles could determine his fate in next year's election should he be the GOP nominee.

Newsweek reached out to the Michigan Democratic Party via email for comment.

#nunyas news

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thats-a-weird-warning-sign · 7 months

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For the prompt game! Avatrice.... discreetly.

Thanks for the prompt, sorry it took a geological age! Please excuse my self-indulgent acadaemia-posting, and don't scrutinise the science too hard...

Finn doesn’t really want to be here. It’s all very well his lab lead saying that presenting at these kinds of things is a surefire way to get in the eyeline of future funders, that networking is half of the battle when it comes to being a postdoc, but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it. He’s still trying to fumble his heavily annotated lecture slides from the last presentation into his bag as he wades through the buffet crowd, paper plate with tiny quiches and cocktail sausages weaving through the air as he hustles to the main hall – he’s only got a few minutes before the poster tour groups start. He weaves through the neat rows of stands, nods to a few people he vaguely recognises, checks the smudged black ink on the inside of his left wrist – nearly sacrificing a cherry tomato to the floor in the process.

His poster looms like a beacon; after the countless hours he’d spent on the thing he could recognise it from a mile away. He sends his bag to the floor with a complicated, rustling thump – remembers a second too late the loose-leaf notes that are now surely succumbing to entropy, inhales a bitesize quiche to fortify himself for the coming battle.

Restless, he fiddles with his poster stand – wishes he’d brought the tape measure just to check. The venue mounted his poster, and yes, they’ve done thousands, but what if it isn’t quite square? That’d be the worst thing to notice 5 minutes before the first poster circuit begins.

The woman at the next display along seems to be having the exact same struggle. Finn watches from the corner of his eye as she stands, arms crossed over her pressed white blouse, surveying her own A1 display with a critical eye. As Finn fusses with his own shirt – nowhere near as smart as this woman, he laments at the creases he’s only just spotting – the woman reaches for her bag, a small black backpack sat beside a neatly folded jacket and pulls out the unmistakable form of the holy grail of conferences – a spirit level!

Finn sighs, rubs both hands over his face and berates himself for dropping the ball. His poster is definitely crooked. There’s no coming back from this – it’s all anyone will be able to see.

"Would you like to borrow it?" A softly spoken question breaks him from his spiral.

Finn uncovers his eyes to see the sharply dressed woman has stepped away from her poster and is offering him a small smile and a spirit level.

“Oh, god, yes please – thank you!” Finn accepts it like he imagines people accept priceless jewels, into cupped, shaking hands. “I knew I should have brought one, you’re so much more prepared than me!” He gushes, already trotting to his poster board, reaching up on tiptoes to reach the top border of his poster.

The woman huffs out a short chuckle.

“I doubt that.”

Finn checks and checks again – level.

“Of course it’s level…” He grumbles. “I could have sworn…”

“Mine was, too.” The woman offers, with a rueful grin. “Perhaps we are standing crooked.”

Finn laughs as he hands the level back.

“Thanks, at least I know I’m not losing my mind, at least.”

“No, or if you are, then so am I.” She smiles.

“Well, madness loves company.” Finn grins back.

“Your poster looks very interesting.” She stands up straighter as she surveys it, slips her hands deliberately into the pockets of her suit trousers – very faintly pinstriped, now that he notices.

“Thanks, I spent way too long crying over it, so I’m really glad you think so.” Finn sighs, before blinking apologetically at the woman. “Sorry, I mean –“ He fumbles.

“Mine was a beast too, don’t worry.” She saves him, still squinting deliberately at his results sections. He fights the urge to ask her what she thinks of the graph sizes. “There’s something about formatting for A1 that makes everything that bit more difficult.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He agrees wholeheartedly.

“This is really very interesting.” She murmurs, glances over at her own poster. “The organisers grouped us by research area, our fields overlap.”

“Oh? What’s your poison?” Finn asks, immediately wishing any other phrase had come to mind instead.

“I’m a little more clinical than you, it would appear – I’m working on the preliminary stages of a clinical trial for a new antispasticity agent in HSP – but we are both interested in the mitochondrial element of the disease process by the looks of things.”

“Well, you can’t ignore the mitochondrial element,” It’s tripping off his tongue – the bane of every lab meeting, the catchphrase –

“It is the powerhouse of the cell, yes.” His saviour’s quietly amused, quietly accented voice joins his stupid reflexive chant – but she’s laughing about it, and Finn grins widely.

“It is!” Finn shuffles to get a better view of his neighbour’s poster, “and it’s cool that you’re approaching things from that end, I never understood why that wasn’t already a thing.”

The woman hums, steps back over toward her own poster, taps with thinly veiled frustration at her results graphs.

“This is why.” She sighs, full of an unmistakable aggrieved resignation Finn knows all too well. “There was just so much variety in response, I mean –” she sighs again, sketches a circle around one graph in particular, “look at these error bars.” She gesticulates, raises a hand as if to run through her hair but seems to forcibly catch herself mid gesture, instead toying with a ring, twisting it between finger and thumb. “You can’t draw conclusions from results like that.”

Finn frowns, eyes darting over her poster, opens his mouth to refute her maudlin statement, but is beaten to it.

“Dr Silva, that’s no way to talk about your life’s work!” The admonishment is warm, the tone weirdly intimate – but hey, Finn’s met some pretty intense research teams in his time. The so-named Dr Silva startles, and Finn steps back as she whirls around to face the newcomer, expression washing from focussed frown to something Finn would be tempted to call wonder.

The woman who’s joined them is grinning – beaming really, and Finn feels a bit blinded by it. She’s beaming, and also dressed a little bit like one of Finn’s old-school professors - corduroys and everything, and she’s leaning on a heavily decorated cane. She’s also looking at Dr Silva like she’s the only thing in the world.

“Dr Silva,” Breathes his neighbour, confusingly.

“Dr Silva.” Echoes blinding-smile, stretching out the hand not gripping her cane. Finn feels a little bit like that meme his sister keeps sending him of the woman with the volume-of-a-cube calculation around her head.

The Drs Silva clasp hands in what is definitely some kind of fruity handshake, Finn’s deduced that much. This view is reinforced when the taller Dr Silva uses the fruity hand-clasping to draw the shorter Dr Silva into a hug that lasts way longer than Finn knows how to react to, leaving him inspecting his own poster and crunching aggressively through another half-forgotten mini-quiche.

He can’t chew loud enough to avoid eavesdropping though.

“Ava, what are you doing here?” Asks Tall Dr Silva, with frankly uncomfortable reverence. Finn chews harder.

“C’mon, Bea,” murmurs Shorter Dr Silva, “of course I came.”

Finn eats another mini-quiche.

“But your -”

“Bea, I wanted to be here for this.”

“But -”

“Shut up, Bea,” the tone is so wildly incongruent that Finn finds himself glancing over, blinking embarrassedly at the intimate half-embrace he’s faced with. “Obviously I was gonna come and see you present - ”

Finn’s stomach swoops.

“The presentation!” Taller and shorter Dr Silva jolt, and Finn doesn’t blame them – he basically yelled it at them. “Sorry! Sorry, but I just saw – it’s now – the discussion group are just there!”

“Oh, shit, sorry Bea,” Shorter Dr Silva backs up a few paces, but she doesn’t look very sorry. “Also hi, I’m Ava!” She waves jauntily at Finn. “Don’t sweat it about the discussion group, you’ve totally got this.”

Finn is not sure he’s totally got this, but can’t help grinning back.

“God, I hope so.” He brushes slightly sweaty palms over his shirt, dislodges at least half a mini quiche’s worth of crumbs. “I’m Finn. Are you presenting today too?”

Ava barks a laugh.

“God no, not here at least, not my jam. Just here to cheer on my ex-girlfriend.” She grins winsomely, laughing again at whatever Finn’s face does as that sentence lands.

“Ava,” Taller Dr Silva has gone pink, “you’ve got to stop doing that. Ignore her, Finn. Ava is my wife.”

Finn can’t really help but laugh.

“Whatever, Bea, just be glad I found something funnier than ‘my ex-doctor’.”

Finn snorts, incredulous – he’s pretty sure Ava just winked at him, though, so he doesn’t feel too bad about laughing.

“Ava, please.” Taller Dr Silva covers her face entirely this time.

“Ahh shoot, gotta go, the discussion group is nearly here. Finn, nice to meet you, you’ll crush it. Bea?”

Ava trots all up into Taller Dr Silva’s space, tugs on the hand still over her face. She laughs at whatever expression she is met with – Finn’s trying not to watch too obviously.

“Dr Silva,” murmurs Ava, before pressing a kiss to the taller woman’s lips.

“Dr Silva.”

Taller Dr Silva’s cheeks stay pink for her full 10-minute presentation – which is flawless, of course.

#warrior nun #avatrice #prompt fill #poster presentations my beloathed #shoutout to all the tiny quiches at conferences - were do they find them all??

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abstractnaturaldisaster · 1 year

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Steddie Hockey Casino Night AU Part 1

so for people who might not be part of the general hockey fandom, Casino Night is a fundraiser a lot of clubs do where fans can by a ticket to play casino games with players and raise money for the team’s charity foundation. it’s a chance for fans to interact with the players in a more social environment and it’s a pretty popular event for most clubs. more comments about this AU below the ficlet! c:

***

Steve Harrington was used to Casino Nights. His NHL career had spanned about a decade at this point and he’d been to his fair share of fan-facing fundraisers. In his younger years it was a fun night to let loose a little during the season (with the coaches blessing, no less). He’d used his easy charm to hook up sometimes but mostly he wandered the venue and enjoyed feeling wanted by the admiring crowds. In his veteran years, Steve usually b-lined his way to a back poker table and sat near the dealer, hunched over his cards, making friendly but limited conversation with the rest of the table. Most of his teammates brought a significant other, a girlfriend or fiancée, to help take pictures, hold drinks, and jump in with any awkward silences throughout the evening. Steve Harrington didn’t have a partner, but he did have a cadre of rookies (one of which lived with him at his condo Henderson (said-rookie) affectionately called the Bachelor Pad), a tortoise named Fred, and the team’s social media manager turned best friend, Robin.

The hurried hook ups of his youth ended up creating his girl-in-every-port reputation and Steve was willing to ride those rumors to avoid any more serious speculation into his love life. Steve was out to team management and his teammates as bi but he didn’t particularly feel like addressing his sexuality in a press conference so the genders of his affairs were a closely guarded secret. At one point Robin had tried to convince him to have NDAs ready to hand out to anyone he brought back to a hotel room after an away game. Steve had ignored the suggestion. Honestly if his bisexuality were to come out via some sort of tell-all tabloid at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to break the news. In reality, who Steve hooked up with was of very little interest to the general population. At the end of the day, he was nearing retirement and was hoping he could finish out his contract and melt into the relative obscurity most minorly successful NHL alums were able to do. He wasn’t going to have the long drawn out career of someone like Ovechkin but he would be able to retire and live happily without much concern for future finances. He’d thought about taking a couple of years off and then maybe starting to coach youth leagues or college teams depending on how far the Harrington name could get him. Steve’s musing was interrupted by Henderson aggressively knocking on his bathroom door.

“Steveeeeeeeeeeee,” Dustin yelled.

“What, Henderson?” Steve answered.

“Help?” Dustin asked and pointed to a full on rats nest that had somehow developed in his crispy gelled curls.

“Oh, man, how did this happen?” Steve asked.

“I dunno, dude, please fix it? Mike and Lucas won’t let me live it down if I show up like this.” Dustin moaned.

“Alright kid, come here, we gotta get some of this gel out of your hair first,” Steve said as he bent Dustin’s head over his sink.

Steve was able to get enough of the gel out and run a comb through Dustin’s curly mop to approach something that could be considered a hairstyle. They were getting close to running late so Steve rushed through the process of throwing on his tux and pressuring Dustin into wearing his nicer game day suit while calling their driver to meet them out front.

“Alright, kiddo. You ready for your first casino night?” Steve asked.

“Yea! Mike and Lucas are dragging Will out so it should be fun to hang out and meet people.” Dustin answered.

Will was Robin’s social media intern. Not all of the staff had to go to the event but similar to how Steve and Robin had become inseparable at team events, Will was pulled into the Mike-Lucas-Dustin orbit in a similar way. The group had even taken to playing D&D one-shots on long travel days since Mike had some experience DMing in a high school club. Steve was a little impressed with himself for being able to remember some of the terminology for the game; however, he did give the group shit for playing their nerd game instead of going out to celebrate after away wins.

“That’ll be nice.” Steve said as the elevator door opened to the lobby of his building.

The big black SUV was already out front waiting on them so Steve herded Dustin through the lobby and into the car.

“Hey Jon!” Steve greeted his driver. Jonathan had been with Steve for a while, long enough to have been roped into his ragtag adopted family. There was a little tension between them for a while when Steve found out Jon and Nancy had started dating seriously. Nancy had been Steve’s longest relationship and they’d stayed friendly after they broke up. Nancy had wanted bigger and better things than being a SOAP to an NHL player and honestly Steve couldn’t blame her. Jon had been enamored with Nancy since he met her through Steve. Steve hadn’t loved that they’d gotten together but that had been years ago at this point. They had two girls that Steve was low key obsessed with and offered to babysit as much as his schedule allowed so he had let go of his (admittedly low-stakes) rivalry with Jon.

“‘Sup, Steve? Dustin?” Jon asked.

“Jon! Can you please convince Steve that he is absolutely overdressed for this shindig?”

“I dunno, dude, I think he might be the expert?” Jon joked. He’d driven Steve long enough to know not to get in between Steve and his rookies.

“Ugh. You’re such a pushover.” Dustin said as he buckled in.

“I just know who out of the two of you pays my bills, kid.” Jon winked at Steve in the rearview as he pulled out into traffic.

Steve settled into his seat and used the drive to melt into his public-facing-Steve-Harrington persona as Dustin prattled on about their cup chances this season. Steve let him ramble on even though he personally hated to jinx anything mid-way through the season.

“Alright, gentlemen, we’re here! Just give me a call when you’re ready to head out.” Jon jumped out to open Dustin and Steve’s doors, a formality Steve only allowed when Jon drove him to official team events.

Steve took one more deep breath and steadied himself for the evening as Henderson was already running off to join the rest of the team. Steve was a little nostalgic for his rookie days when everything seemed so fresh and new. Now he felt like he needed to crack his back after getting up from sitting too long and he was absolutely looking at hip surgery if he got another bad check. Regardless of how old Steve felt, he put on his media smile, straightened his jacket and got ready for introductions, already mentally planning out his escape routes for the evening.

***

hi friends! my sister and i recently went to our first casino night and i have had this brain worm in my head rolling around for a while and this giant first chapter just appeared, lol

in terms of world building, if you’re familiar with hockey twitter i am thinking of steve as a joe pavelski type and dustin as one of his rookies. lucas and mike are also team rookies but i haven’t really picked any positions for anyone since it’s casino night and i don’t have to lol. so if anyone has any specific head canons for positions please share!!

don’t worry -- eddie will be here in the next part!

like last time, i’ll post on AO3 when i get a few more parts finished.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fan fiction #fanfic #hockey au #casino night #veteran player steve harrington #poker dealer eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic

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