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justalildumpling · 1 year

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⇢ 3, 2, 1

synopsis: at this point of your pathetically unrequited crush on your popular friend, it didn’t faze you when you found out that he wasn’t going to be at the same NYE party as you. but when he suddenly turned up to come find you, did you start wondering that maybe you weren’t the only one with harboured feelings.

pairing: mark x reader genre: friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: swearing, drunkenness/mentions of drinking and partying, the word sex was said once note: lmao the way i’ve literally had this idea in my wip documents since like last year… anyways, here’s a little soft boi mark to start off your year <33 happy new year everyone!!

It didn't really make much sense.

Well, according to the resident drunkards Haechan and Chenle that is, being sober on New Years Eve.

Or any house party for that matter.

"It's literally free alcohol Y/N, why not make the most of it?" Haechan protested, cracking open another can of Jack and Coke, letting out a satisfied hum after hearing the bubbles fizzing up to the rim of the lid.

"Cause some people want a functioning liver by the age of thirty Lee Donghyuck," You rolled your eyes at the tipsy boy, clicking your tongue in disapproval as he downed the alcoholic drink in his hand, "And actually be able to recall all the not stupid things I did the night before."

"What? Like accidentally telling our little Markie boy that you're head over heels for him?" Donghyuck fired back, shaking the last droplets of the drink into his mouth before chucking it in the kitchen bin, "He's not even with us tonight!"

Unfortunately for you, the little devil man dressed as your best friend was right. Mark Lee was nowhere to be found at the party, though you couldn't complain as you were already notified of his absence last Wednesday.

You and your group of friends sat basking in the sunlight outside on the picnic benches of the park, taking in the rare appearance of the sun within the rainy week.

"What do you mean you're not coming to Lele's?!" Donghyuck squabbled, letting his burger fall onto the wrapper with a thud.

Mark merely shrugged, guiltily scratching the nape of his neck, "Johnny had already invited me two weeks ago and I said I was gonna go, sorry guys."

You frowned at the boy's statement, swirling the fry that you had stolen from Jisung's tray into the ketchup tub.

Though Mark was an important member of your high school friend group, it was hard to align your meet ups with his hectic schedule. Sometimes you couldn't seem to understand your crush in question, how he managed to juggle his school work alongside the university basketball team, internship plus a somewhat abundant social life was a mystery in itself.

Mark Lee was a relatively popular figure at your school, good looks, a chill and caring personality and godly talented at everything he did. It was no surprise that his inbox was flooded with invitations all the time let alone the holiday break.

Despite this, he always made sure to keep in touch with you, checking in with you about how your day had been or if he's lucky to squeeze in an ice cream run by the beach with you, which you very much appreciated and made your heart swell just a little bit too much than the average person, not that he ever needed to know.

As if he sensed your disappointment within the group's chaotic wails and cries, Mark reached over to give your hand a little squeeze, sending you an apologetic glance.

It was things like this which made up your hopelessly harboured feelings for the Canadian, making you think that it wasn't just you that had pathetically pined over him but being the nice guy that he was, probably treated others the same way.

Jaemin and Renjun though seemed to argue otherwise, whining to tell the clueless boy about your feelings, saying that there's no way that he wouldn't like you back before you quickly shushed them, snapping to keep their delusions in their heads.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N?" A voice broke you from your thoughts, causing you to peer up from your seated position on the couch, eyes trailing up the body of a boy to meet an amused Jeno.

He held out your phone, his cheeky grin growing exponentially the more you stared at his hands in confusion.

"Lover boy texted," He finally explained, nonchalantly chucking the device onto your lap, "Figured you'd want to know."

You grumbled, throwing the nearest pillow at the boy in which he barely dodged as he chuckled at your embarrassment, slipping off to the kitchen, most likely reporting the incident to his best friend.

Rolling your eyes, you unlocked your phone to find a couple missed calls from Johnny, unsent message notifications from Yuta and Mark's little message.

markie: hey :)

you: hi!! how's johnny's?

markie: too loud, yuta kept tryinhg to kisss me and johnny keeps bullyibg me markie: so i left

You giggled at his poor attempts at coherent sentences, covering your mouth with your hand to avoid the potential teasing from your friends.

You've seen Mark drunk a couple times, mostly at Johnny's parties after finals week. He was a cute drunk, clinging onto your figure rambling on about things which you couldn't quite decipher, in turn making him an easy target for the playful teasing from his seniors.

Which now that you thought about it, explained the random notifications from Johnny and Yuta, the two culprits behind most if not all of Mark's misery.

you: mark, are you drunk?

markie: no, im repsinsible heh markie: you're still at lele's right?

As you started to type your response, a loud groan was made from the left of the couch, causing you to switch your attention from your phone screen to Donghyuck sitting cross legged on the timber floors with Renjun, who was holding the infamous vomit bucket in front of his mouth, disgust ridden over his face.

"How much did he have tonight?" Jisung asked, almost horrified by the older boy's pitiful state from across the room. His eyes quickly darted back to the array of party mix lollies and the lukewarm pizzas displayed on the dining table, as unidentifiable contents threatened to spill from Donghyuck's mouth.

"We've already lost count," Jaemin resonated from the kitchen, his voice slightly drowned out by the rushing water, "Lele's isn't doing much better either, he's currently occupying the toilet bowl instead of the bucket."

You shook your head, silently chuckling at your best friends' suffering.

you: i am you: lele and hyuck's drunk as fuck you: they're currently hurling their guts out you: one using the vomit bucket, one using the toilet bowl

markie: those idiots hahahah markie: btw could u come outisde for a sex markie: *sev markie: fuck markie: *sec

you: pfft and u said u weren't drunk you: also, ur outside?!?!?

markie: shut up im fine i djust cant type rn

you: lol whatever u say markie you: i'll be out in a sec

You sat up from the couch, quietly squeezing past the crowd formed around the unfortunate boy and up the stairs.

Slipping on Jaemin's drunkenly bought La Coste slides, you swung open the door. A shiver slivered up the small of your back as the cool breeze hit your bare arms, a contrast from the warm stuffy atmosphere from inside.

You spotted Mark standing by the gates of Chenle's house, the dim street light illuminating his facial features, making him look more ethereal than he already was. With a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you began making your way towards him.

The sound of gravel shuffling from underneath your feet caused Mark to whip his head around to face you, he was pretty certain that most of the alcohol in his system had disappeared on the walk from Johnny's house but why was it that as soon as he saw you happily skipping down the path, greeting him with the sweetest smile that made him feel so euphoric?

"I can't believe you came!" You exclaimed, bringing him into a warm embrace.

His reply came in the form of a shy laugh, tickling the back of your neck with his breath.

He held you in his arms for a few minutes, with only the occasional squawks from inside breaking the comforting silence.

"Can you believe it's already the new year?" You whispered in awe, pulling away from his body to face him.

"Yeah dude that's insane, it feels like this year went by so quickly," Mark replied, adding his favourite form of endearment to the start, "Do you think you're ready for it to be over?"

You pondered for a few seconds, reflecting back on all the events that occurred within the past year before shrugging your shoulders, "I'm not sure."

"Don't get me wrong, this years been great but I feel like due to school, work and whatever, I wasn't able to fulfil all the things I wanted to do."

Mark nodded his head at your words, resonating with every word.

You always seemed to have the right things to say to him, always so understanding about his hectic schedule but never failing to let him know that he was missed whenever he couldn't make his friend's gatherings. It was things like this which caused the gradual course of his feelings for you.

For a while, Mark believed that he had made his crush on you subtle, not overly flirting or showering you in gifts in front of your friends. But one friendly reminder from Jaemin about his drunk habit of becoming a koala and latching onto you as if his life depended on it, broke his oblivious bubble. He quickly realised that many people had caught on, with some making it more obvious than others.

"I'm telling you, she likes you back bro!" He remembered Johnny exclaiming a few hours back with Yuta nodding enthusiastically as he half hazardously sipped on his beer.

Mark, Johnny and Yuta were situated in the secluded areas of the host's bedroom, with the party hammering hard downstairs. He wasn't too sure how he had ended up on his bed getting lectured by his two teammates about love pestering him to confess his feelings.

"C'mon, just text her saying to meet up," Yuta encouraged, handing him his phone to unlock, "You saw what happens when Johnny and I have our phones."

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the sheer panic he had felt when the older boys dialled your number on their phones a few moments back, threatening to spill his secret before he had lunged at their figures wrestling to press the red hang up button.

"You literally have the best excuse to kiss her tonight," Johnny huffed, flopping down on his bed with arms crossed, "It's New Year's Eve."

"No way dude," Mark flatly responded, slapping his phone against his forehead, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"As if a girl would ever reject you," Yuta snorted, nudging the sides of his arms with his elbow, "Now hurry up and text her you fool."

And here he was, standing in front of you in the middle of the gravel pathway, with his face flushed.

Though whether it was due to the alcohol or whether it was the thought of kissing you tonight, he wasn't too sure. But taking into account his palpitating heart in his chest as he waited anxiously for midnight, it seemed to lean towards the latter.

"Sorry for rambling on," You scratched the base of your neck, hoping you didn't talk his ear off.

Mark frantically waved his arms around, shaking his head.

A muffled shriek awfully similar to Chenle's interrupted your conversation, startling both you and Mark as you whipped your heads back to the house. It remained quiet for a few seconds before a range of shouts counting down from ten resonated shortly after.

You giggled, turning around to focus on Mark's smiling face once again as the both of you joined in.

"Three," Mark cleared his throat, wiping his clammy hands on the sides of his ripped jeans.

"Two," He grabbed onto your hand, taking in your sweet smile and the way you reciprocated his touch, clasping your fingers around his, your rings clinking with his.

"One, Happy New Ye-"

The moment his lips hit yours, it had felt like all the daze of the alcohol was wearing off. Regaining consciousness of the way his lips perfectly moulded against yours and how he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting the watermelon lollipop you loved so much. Gripping onto your waist and tugging you closer, his heart began to mirror fireworks, matching the way the real ones sparks crackled and thundered in the background.

Pulling away from your touch, the confidence he had going in had simmered down as he gingerly met your eyes once again.

"What was that about?" You whispered, your eyes carrying a sense of wonder.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that without your permission, but you just looked so beautiful and I've had a crush on you for god knows how long and I just couldn't help it. God what am I saying, you can slap me if you want-"

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his once again, jerking him forward by his hoodie strings.

"You kissed me," Mark's eyes widened, awestruck by the sudden gesture.

"I did." You replied, fidgeting with the hems of your shirt as you added, "You said that you liked me."

"I did," Mark confirmed with a shy smile, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Does that mean you like me too?"

You could feel your cheek heat up as you dipped your head in response, making him beam at the small motion as he brought you into his arms, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.

"Happy New Year Y/N," Mark kissed your forehead, his hands resting on the top of your shoulders as he gazed into your eyes adoringly.

"Happy New Year Mark.”

permanent taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies

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justmystyles · 2 months

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Big Winners - Part 1

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 3,118

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: earlier this month, all the grammy memories popped up, and it inspired me to write this. i have a million half finished 'moment turned fic' stories in my drafts, but I actually managed to (mostly) finish this one. this is either going to be 2 or 3 parts, i still have a bit to finish, so we'll see.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Y/N and Harry met fifteen years ago, One Direction had been recently formed, and she was doing an internship at the studio where they were working on their debut album. She had befriended the entire band, but she and Harry clicked instantly, and formed a tight bond.

They stayed close throughout the years. Harry’s career, both with the band and as a solo artist skyrocketed, while Y/N moved through the industry and had found herself producing some smaller projects. She rarely turned down an opportunity, taking on any work that came her way just to get the experience and the connections. Then, she received the offer of a lifetime.

Once Harry had finished Love on Tour, he celebrated by inviting some of his closest friends and family to his villa in Italy for two weeks to relax and recharge. Y/N was one of the first people he asked. One night during the trip, Harry and Y/N snuck away from the group; it was intentional on his end, because he had something he was dying to ask her.

As they sat on the moonlit beach shoulder to shoulder, their toes in the sand, Harry leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers. “So, I’m going to be starting work on the new album soon.”

“Jesus Har, you’re not even finished with your recharge vacation and you’re already thinking about the next thing?” She chuckled.

“You know I can’t turn it off.” He said with a sheepish laugh. “But there’s actually a reason I brought it up… I’ve been thinking about the direction I want to take, and who I want to work with, and I was wondering if you’d want to produce it for me?”

Y/N lets out a loud bark of laughter, startling Harry. “Good one.”

“I’m serious.” He looks at her, and she can see that he really does mean what he says.

“Harry, I don’t have production experience on that level.” She says, still in shock. “I mean, unless this is like a lullaby album or something.”

Harry chuckles. “It’s not, but I know you can do it. I know your work, you’re so much more talented than you give yourself credit for. And sure, you haven’t got experience on my level, but you’re never going to get it if you don’t put yourself out there, who better to get the experience with than your best friend?” He says with a toothy, dimpled grin.

“Literally anyone else?” She teases.

“Hey,” he whines with a furrowed brow. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” The two of them are silent for a moment, while she lets his offer sink in. “You really want me to do this? You want me to be your producer?”

“That’s why I asked.” He scoffs. “But seriously, nobody knows me better than you, you understand me, you always push me when I need it, and you don’t take my shit. Imagine how that would translate to music. I think it could be something really amazing. Plus, we’d get to hang out a bunch.”

“Ugh… you were making a good argument until you mentioned spending that much time together.” She says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry says in a serious tone. “If you don’t want to do it, just tell me. But I really can’t imagine taking the next step in my career with anyone else.”

She sighs and smiles softly at him. “I would really love to work with you, Harry. If you’re sure, let’s do it.”

His smile grows once again as he pulls her into a big hug. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

A few months later, the two of them embarked on their first collaboration, Harry’s fourth studio album, and it was an even better experience than either of them thought it would be. They knew each other so well, that they were perfectly in sync with every chord and every lyric. By the time they had a completed album, they were both confident that this was the best work of their careers.

They were so proud of what they had done that they didn’t care how it sold, or what the reviews said, they knew that they had created something magical and if they were the only two people that liked it, they couldn't care less. However, that wasn’t the case. The record was a hit; glowing reviews, great numbers, and the fans positively ate it up.

Harry and Y/N’s friendship was one that was well known, his fans would go crazy everytime they were seen together, the fandom was constantly shipping them. So when they found out that she was producing the record, it amped up the anticipation tenfold. As soon as it was released, they were combing the lyrics, and criticizing every background vocal and sound to find any clues about the true standing of the relationship. Of course, there was plenty of speculation, but the truth wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as the conspiracies and analysis. They were genuinely just two best friends with creative minds that made something amazing together.

Given the reception the album received, it was no surprise that, when award season rolled around, they received a generous amount of nominations. So here they were, in LA, sharing a hotel suite and preparing to attend the Grammy Awards.

As Y/N sat down to begin the hair and makeup process, Harry stepped out to go for a run to clear his mind. He was nervous about what the evening would hold. Partly for his performance, especially given the mistake at the beginning of his last Grammy appearance in 2023. He had insisted on extra rehearsal time, and extended the production meeting to make sure that everyone knew exactly what needed to happen and when. But more than that, he wanted this night to be perfect for Y/N. He had won awards before, but this was her first time being nominated. When they had first met, Y/N had told him about her dreams and one of the things she mentioned was the Grammys. He wanted this for her more than he did for himself. And although he knew she had matured in the last fifteen years, and valued more than just accolades and awards, if he could be the reason one of her childhood dreams came true, that would mean more to him than anything.

When Harry returned from his run, he saw Y/N sitting in the common area, her hair and makeup still being worked on. She locks eyes with him through the mirror.

“Hey, did the run help?” She asks.

Harry shrugs as he approaches her. “A little, still pretty nervous though.”

“What’s making you nervous? The nominations, or the performance?”

Harry thought about the best way to answer this question, he didn’t want to tell her that he was nervous for her. He knew that even though she was hiding it well, she was nervous too, and his nerves on her behalf would make hers worse. On top of that, Y/N was alway so sweet and empathetic, she would take it personally and see herself as the reason he was nervous and end up feeling bad. He didn’t want to put a damper on this night for her.

“Mostly the performance, I guess.” He finally responds.

She extends her arm out, wiggling her fingers in an invitation for him to take her hand. When he joins his hand with hers, she squeezes gently. “You’re going to be amazing. I’ve never seen you give a bad performance. You’re going to kill it, and I’m going to be right there in the crowd losing my shit for you, just like I always do.”

Harry laughs at her pep talk. “You know this is an industry thing, not a concert, right? People aren’t exactly going to be losing their shit in the audience.”

“Good, then it will be easier for you to notice me from the stage.” She looks over at him with a sweet smirk.

“Like I could ever miss you.” He scoffs, squeezing her hand.

“You’re showering before you get dressed, right?” She asks with an arched brow, lightning the mood.

“Not before I give you a big, sweaty hug…” He says, outstretching his arms and moving closer.

“Harry Edward,” she says in a warning tone. “I’m already forty-five minutes into getting ready, and still have at least thirty to go. I cannot start over.

“God, you’re such a girl…” He groans and kisses her on the cheek before going into the bathroom to shower.

While Harry showered, Y/N’s mind was racing. She’d known Harry long enough to know that there was more going on than just being nervous about the performance, but she wasn’t going to push him. She would just do everything she could to support and comfort him.

After his shower, Harry stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe just as Y/N’s hair and makeup was being finished. She stood from her chair, thanked her glam team and stepped up to Harry.

“We should just go like this, it would cause quite a stir.” She joked as they stood face to face in their matching bathrobes.

He smiles softly, still feeling the nerves flow through him.

“Hey, you’ve got this… we’ve got this.” She assures him. “Even if we don’t win, the album was amazing. We made something beautiful. If the academy sees that, great. If not, whatever, we don’t need them anyway.”

Harry smiles and pulls her into a hug. “Yeah, I know, I know. No matter what, I am so proud of what we did. It’s better than I even imagined it would be, and I owe all of that to you.”

She giggles as she pulls out of the hug. “I didn’t do anything. I just pushed buttons and bossed you around.”

Harry laughs loudly. “Two things you’re good at. Being bossy and pushing my buttons.” She gasps in mock outrage and slaps his chest playfully. “Seriously though, you brought my vision to life, and you did all the behind the scenes work to make sure it was the best album possible. You’re the biggest reason we’re here tonight.”

Y/N smiles shyly and blushes. “Oh come on…”

Harry smirks mischievously, he always found it hilarious when he’d make her blush. He decided to double down. “Well, whatever the outcome, at least I’ll have the cutest date in the room.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“God, you’re the worst.” She chuckles as her blush deepens. “I have to go put my dress on. You changing?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that now. Meet you back here in ten?”

“It’s a complicated dress, might need fifteen…”

“God,” he groans playfully. “Such a diva!”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at him and turns to go into her room to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, Harry is pacing around in his suit, it’s a simple black suit with a gold silk shirt, unbuttoned enough to display the sparrows on his chest, and the butterfly across his abdomen. He steps up to her door and knocks gently as a reminder that they need to get going.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She calls through the door.

A few moments later, she emerges in a long gown, made of the same golden silk as Harry’s shirt. Harry’s eyes go wide when he sees her. She looks stunning, the gown hugs her curves in all the right places, and compliments her skin tone perfectly.

Harry’s silence makes Y/N feel a little self conscious. She rarely dresses up, and when she does, she doesn’t usually pick things that put her body on display like this.

“Is it… do I look okay?” She asks tentatively.

“It’s stunning, Y/N.” Harry looks at her in awe. “You look so incredibly beautiful, like an angel…”

“Alright Har, come on…” she says bashfully as she drops her gaze.

“No, seriously. You clean up nice.” He chuckles, punching her on the arm playfully.

“Yeah, well you don’t look so bad yourself.” She looks him over, a small smirk appearing on her face. “Is this why you wanted me to work with your team to pick my outfit? So we would be matching?”

Harry chuckles and shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe…”

“You’re such a little pain in the ass.” She chuckles.

“Whatever, it was worth it.” He says, grabbing her wrist and positioning them in front of the full length mirror. “We look damn good”

“That we do.” She replies with a smile. She notices his expression grow more serious and furrows her brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… fifteen years…” He says wistfully. “We’ve had a hell of a run, you and I.”

“Well it’s not over yet!”

“No, I know. Will you just shut up and let me have a moment?” He says as he nudges her. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t really express how much it means to be standing here with you right now. No matter what happens tonight, we’ve definitely already won.”

“Yeah, we have.” She sighs, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him into a side hug. “Now cut it out with all this mushy stuff, my makeup took way too long for me to start crying right now.”

Harry laughs and pulls her into a tight hug. “Alright, alright, we’ll save the mushy crying for later.” He gives her one last squeeze before pulling out of the embrace. “Ready to go?”

She nods and he leads her out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. As it makes its descent to the lobby, Y/N gets uncharacteristically quiet.

“You good?” Harry asks softly. “You seem quiet.”

She looks up at him, almost as if the sound of his voice broke her out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah, sorry. I think the gravity of everything is finally hitting me. Like, it was all conceptual before, just words. But it’s real, we’re on our way to the Grammy awards… we’re nominated.”

Harry takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know. But you can’t worry about it, no more stressing out, okay? Tonight is our night, we just need to go out there and enjoy it.”

“Can I say one more mushy thing before we stop trying to make each other cry?”

Harry chuckles and nods, looking forward to hearing what Y/N has to say.

“I… when I decided I wanted to be a producer, my big thing was that I always told people I wanted to win Grammy awards. And I know we shouldn’t be defined by awards, but in an industry like this, you have to have some way to quantify or legitimize what you do to people who aren’t a part of it, and that was my way of doing it. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and this is the first time I’ve been nominated. I can’t tell you how glad I am that my first nomination is with you. It means the world to me that I can have this moment, share this milestone with my best friend. So thank you for letting me be a part of this album. You have no idea what it means to me.”

Harry is taken aback by Y/N’s words. While they were close, and shared everything, she would rarely be so open and vulnerable with her words. No matter what happened at the award show, that moment, right there in the elevator, would be the highlight of his night. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, burying his face in her neck.

“You have no idea what this means to me.” He mumbles against her neck.

“Okay, so no nerves then?” She asks, pulling out of his embrace. “Whatever happens tonight, we will always have this moment together, and that’s what matters.”

“Agreed.” Harry says, holding his hand out to shake hers. She giggles at the gesture and shakes his hand firmly.

After a short ride in the limo, Harry slips out of the car and extends his hand, helping Y/N out. They walk through security and up to the start of the red carpet. Harry turns to face Y/N, and she adjusts his jacket, making sure he looks picture perfect.

“Okay, go out there and smile big. I’ll see you on the other side.” She says like a proud mom, sending her son off to picture day.

“How’s my hair?” He asks cheekily.

She giggles and runs her hand through his hair. “Perfect.”

He winks and gives her a sly smirk before stepping out onto the carpet and posing for the cameras.

Y/N watches him take a few pictures, and once he moves on to the second pose position on the carpet, she turns to walk behind the step and repeat. Her arm is quickly grabbed by one of the producers. “You’re up.” He tells her.

“Oh no no no, I’m not walking the carpet.” Y/N insists.

“Are you nominated?” She nods, a slight panic on her expression. Y/N was a behind the scenes person, she didn’t step in front of the camera. “Then you walk the carpet.” He nudges her forward, and she finds herself standing on the first mark, posing awkwardly for the camera.

A few steps away, Harry’s gaze is traveling from camera to camera, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Y/N posing, he also sees the panic on her face. He quickly backtracks, coming up beside her and placing his hand on the small of her back.

“You okay?” He whispers softly.

“I didn’t know they were going to make me do the carpet…” She whispers nervously.

Harry keeps his hand on the small of her back, his fingers moving along the skin gently to soothe her. “I know, I know. But you’ve got this, I’m right here with you, we’re going to do this together, this is our night.”

She nods, feeling more comfortable with Harry by her side. The two pose together as they move down the carpet. Harry was completely in tune with Y/N’s emotions, and any time he’d feel her start to stiffen up or get nervous, he would whisper a joke or silly comment in her ear to loosen her up.

The photographers went crazy observing the chemistry between the two of them. Harry was aware what would be printed about them, and the status of their relationship, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was that nothing ruined this night for Y/N.

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pitchsidestories · 7 months

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Girls like girls like boys do II Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

a/n: The tiktok video was our inspiration for this oneshot. We hope the person who requested a KCC oneshot ages ago likes how it finally turned out. ❤️

arsenal women masterlist I word count: 1965

"Saw your face, heard your name Gotta get with you Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new Isn't this why we came? Tell me if you feel it too! Tell me, girls like girls like boys do Nothing new"

~ Hayley Kiyoko, Girls Like Girls

Three beaming australian players were strolling along at London Colney while you were busy preparing the set up for the upcoming tiktoks.

You really enjoyed your internship in the social media departement of the Arsenal Women Football Club. It was a joy and pleasure to work with such a talented team off and on the pitch. Moreover, working here really sparked your creativity which you thought you lost a bit during your studies at university.

With a bright smile on her lips, Steph Catley was the first of the three players to greet you: "Hi, y/n got a new aussie to work with you today."

"Hi.", Kyra Cooney-Cross waved at you. Her cheeks were slightly blushed as she took a closer look at you. "Hello, nice to meet you, Kyra.", you said in a warm tone, trying to make her feel comfortable and less nervous about her first days with a new club.

A real smile appeared on the young australian midfielder's face: "Nice to meet you too."

With a cheeky grin Caitlin Foord striked different silly poses in front of you which made everyone laugh: "So what are we supposed to do ?"

"No, worries Cait, I already have an idea how to introduce the newest aussie member to the Arsenal family.", you told the striker before you winked at the latest addition who came from Sweden. Curiously Steph glanced at you:"You do?" "Yes and it goes perfectly with Caitlins goofy mood.", you replied. "That’s the best videos.", the striker declared. Excited Kyra was clapping her hands: "I can't wait." "Yes, let's go.", the defender announced equally motivated. "Great, so let's get started.", you nodded, ready to show them the ideas you had in mind for them.

After all the filming was done Kyra was nervously licking her lips as she turned her face to the fellow Matilda teammate:"I don't know how to, Cait." "Don't know what?", Caitlin asked friendly. From afar she spotted you, so the young midfielder mumbled blushing: "Doesn’t matter."

Later in the evening Kyra arrived at her new flat, which was still relatively unhomely with all the cardboard boxes still being around, that was the moment when she started missing her former Hammarby teammates.

The ache intensified, as she saw Katrina Gorry video calling her, while taking the call the young player could see the older Australian woman’s face lighting up: “Hi, little one.” “Hi Mini.”, Kyra replied softly.

Smiling brightly Katrina told her: “Harper and I saw the Tiktok Arsenal made with Cait, Stephy and you.” “You did? Tell Harper I said hi.” “I’ll, she loved it, the woman who lived in Sweden admitted before changing the subject with a bright grin on her small face, But now back to you, you wrote something about a cute girl.”

A nervous cough escaped from the younger midfielder’s lips: Yeah…” “Tell me about her.”, the older player encouraged her, looking very cozied up in her chair. Slowly Kyra opened up: “She’s the social media manager?” “Means you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know her.”, Katrina winked at her. The tease was enough to make the new Arsenal player blush: “I can’t.”

“Why not?”, the young mum asked slightly irritated. The response came quickly from the other side: “She’s working for Arsenal.” “So do you.” “Yeah. Isn’t that a problem?”, Kyra played with a loose string of her hair to calm down her nerves.

Empathetically Katrina shook her head: “Not at all. Oh my god, you’re literally so cute Kyra. You know that you’ve players in your team who date each other, right? So that’s not much of a difference, you see.” Mini as she was lovingly nicknamed by teammates and fans felt the motherly urge to hug the younger woman, but was kind of sad about the fact that she couldn’t do it in this particular moment.

Kyra frowned; “I do think that’s very different.“ Katrina on the other end just sighed; “Okay.“ “You don’t think that?“ “No, you should give it a try.“, replied the older football player sternly. Kyra bit her lip; “Seriously?“ A small smile appeared on Katrinas lips; “Only if she wants to too of course.“ But not even that wiped the doubtful look off of Kyras face; “But I’ve never asked a girl out.“ “Oh, trust me, it’s not very different to asking a boy out.“, Katrina laughed. With a shy smile, Kyra admitted “It does feel different. Actually, boys used to ask me out.“ Her team mate sighed; “Yeah, I know. But fuck the patriarchy.“ Katrina barely finished her sentence, when her eyes went wide. She turned to her two year old daughter; “Shit, Harper, you didn’t hear that!“ But it was obviously too late. “Fuck the patriarchy!“, a childs voice repeated enthusiastically. Now this finally made Kyra smile brightly; “At least this time, it was you and not me.“ She thought about the world cup and the times she had to swallow the swear words she was about to say because Katrinas daughter was around.

“Do you want to hear about my first time asking a girl out?“, Katrina asked, obviously interested in changing the topic quickly. Kyra nodded; “Sure.“ “Alright. So, I was so nervous I stumbled over my own words. I couldn’t get out a full sentence. But the girl knew where I was trying to go and said yes anyway. What I’m trying to say is, you probably won’t be as awkward as me. Or if you are, it might just run in our family.“ “You know we’re not actually related, Mini.“, Kyra snorted. Katrina smiled softly into the camera; “I know but we’re found family.“ “Thank you. That means a lot to me.“ “You’re welcome. Call me after you asked her out, okay? I have to take Harper to bed now.“ The toddler was currently trying to climb onto her mum’s lap, rubbing her eyes, so Kyra waved into the camera; “Good Night, you two. Love you.“

With a bright smile on your face, you greeted the newest Australian signing on the next day: “Good morning, Kyra.” The grin intensified as you followed her gaze, catching her looking at your sports bag: “Oh yeah, I’m playing too, amateur football tho, later we do have a game, that’s why I carry this around.” “You’re playing too?”, Kyra asked, her mouth feeling suddenly dry from that unexpected but equally lovely news. “I’m a midfielder just like you, but not that good.”, you answered, your cheeks turning red. The arsenal player replied warmly: “Oh don’t say that. We all started there.” “I guess that’s true, and I really like my team, you stopped before suggesting boldly, Maybe you want to watch a game of mine someday so you can judge for yourself.” “Really? Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”, the young midfielder was clearly delighted by that opportunity to see another side of you. “Cool, when do you think you can make it?” “Oh, probably not today.”, Kyra nervously licked her lips. Quickly you reassured her: “I did not expect you to that’s why I asked.”

Later the young Australian player was sitting next to Caitlin in the changing room after the training for the day was done. The older attacking player raised up her eyebrows: “She invited you to watch a game of hers? That’s almost a day.” “That’s not a date..”, Kyra whispered. Meanwhile Steph joined them and suggested: “If you want to we can go to the match together. What do you think about that?” “Really? You’d come with me?”, the youngest of the three looked very relieved by that prospect. Encouragingly Caitlin nodded: “Of course.” “How about next week? Before the season starts?”, Kyra asked them excited. Smiling Caitlin promised her: “We’ll be there.”

The next weekend, when Arsenal had a free day, Caitlin picked Kyra up to go watch your game. “Let’s see how good our content creator is.“, she said excitedly as they entered the football pitch together. Kyra was trying to find you, so she only realized that Steph joined them when Caitlin added; “Oh my god, you brought Calvin with you, Steph?“ “Of course I brought him. Couldn’t leave him at home.“, she laughed. Kyras face immediately lit up as she crouched down to pet the dog; “Hi cutie!“ “He says Hi, auntie Kyra.“, Steph replied for her dog who was trying to lick Kyras face.

But as soon as the first whistle was blown, the attention of the three Australians shifted towards the game. “She’s really good.“, Kyra noticed after a few minutes of watching you. Caitlin sighed dramatically, eyes wandering over the pitch; “God, I miss this.“ “Me too. I think I’ll try to go here more often. It’s fun.“, Kyra grinned. Steph nudged Caitlin with her elbow; “It’s so cute, Cait. Kyra is crushing on her.“ The younger player shot them an offended glance but Caitlin didn’t take her eyes off the grass; “And I’m crushing on this grassroots football, Steph. Don’t you ever miss playing like this? Just for fun?“ “I do. But look at Kyra.“ Arsenals newest signing was back at watching you, ignoring her two team mates. “She’s enjoying this.“ With smirk, Steph nodded; “Not only the game.“ “She said it’s not a date but it basically is a date.“, Caitlin agreed, laughing.

As soon as the final whistle blew, you walked over to the side of the pitch to hug your visitors; “Hi, my three favourite aussies.“ “Hey, great game.“ “Yes, it was great to watch.“, Steph and Caitlin offered their compliments. “Thank you.“, you smiled gratefully, before turning to Kyra who went suspiciously quiet, “Did you enjoy the game too, Kyra?“ “Oh, yes, I did. You were amazing.“, she answered fast, almost stumbling over her own words. Your smile only got brighter; “I’m glad that you did.“

“Caitlin, let’s go. Calvin needs a walk now.”, Steph dragged the forward with her, feeling you two needed time to talk alone in peace. For a second Caitlin gave the defender an irritated look: “I thought he just was on one!, when she realized her teammates plan behind that move and added quickly, yeah, okay, see you two tomorrow.” “Bye girls.”, you waved at them, still smiling while shaking your head at them. Nervously Kyra went through her hair with one hand: “So…” “Yes?” “I know this is weird but.. would you go out on a date with me?”, the Australian midfielder asked, her cheeks turning pink. Immediately you tried to calm down her nerves by saying: “Kyra it’s not weird at all. I’d love to go on a date with you. Do you want to get something to eat with me after I changed into normal clothes`” “Yes sure.”, Kyra nodded happily. A huge grin appeared on your lips as you said your goodbyes for now: “Perfect, see you in a few minutes.”

From afar Caitlin and Steph were watching you two. The forward turned to the defender visibly amused: “So I guess we don’t have to take her home now.” “Right, come on Calv, time for us to leave.”, Steph said, the dog himself could not wait to get back to his place after this adventurous day for him.

A few days after your first real date Kyra decided to video call her national teammate because she could not wait to tell her the great news. Curiously Katrina glanced at the younger footballer:“ So, what did she say?” “She said yes and she’s my girlfriend now.”, the Arsenal midfielder confessed. Excited Katrina lifted her arms up into the air: “I fucking knew it.” Her swearing made her wife looking really annoyed at her, so she tried to defend herself, sorry love, but thank god, Harper is asleep so she could not hear me using those words to express my excitement.”

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #matildas #matildas imagine #matildas x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #caitlin foord #steph catley #woso oneshot #awfc #auswnt #katrina gorry #woso

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octuscle · 2 months

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Catalan internship

Michael was overjoyed. He would never have dreamed that he would be accepted as an intern at the renowned architecture firm in Barcelona. Normally, world-class offices only accepted seniors as interns. And Michael was a sophomore. And he barely spoke a word of Spanish. To be honest, he had lied a bit on his CV. But the internship didn't start for another three months. Until then, he would learn Spanish and learn so much that it wouldn't even be noticeable that he had only just started his studies.

When he was on the plane to Barcelona three months later, Michael didn't speak a word of Spanish and had gained a lot of experience in frat house parties over the past few weeks. The internship was going to be a debacle… And indeed, he didn't understand a word on his first day. And even if he had spoken the language, he would have had no idea what they wanted him to do. Michael cursed the decision to apply for this position. He was only happy when he was finally in the office. He googled "Spanish now". A list of language schools and language apps came up… Boring stuff… That didn't help him now either… And then, already on page 2, came "Become Spanish in just a few moments". Chronivac… Never heard of it… "In-app purchases possible." Never mind, Michael had his dad's credit card….

"Spanish architecture student in his final year". That was all the effort Michael put into his prompt. That was enough work for today. Michael spent the rest of the day looking for trendy bars for tonight.

Miguel wasn't overly punctual when he came into the office the next day. Why the hell didn't he understand anyone here? The language sounded like a gibberish of Spanish, French and a few more languages. Fortunately, everyone here actually understood Spanish. And for a reason Miguel couldn't quite explain to himself, Miguel spoke fluent English. This made it easier to flirt with the other interns from Germany, Poland and the USA. Unfortunately, Miguel quickly realized that everyone else here was far superior to him professionally. Despite his advanced studies, Miguel was a complete layman compared to his colleagues when it came to creativity, structural engineering and building technology.

"A young Spanish architect". And "Enter".

Miguel hated his small apartment in the suburb of Barcelona. He designed the most beautiful houses, the most spectacular skyscrapers. And he lived in this shoebox. Okay, to be fair, Miguel didn't actually design anything. Miguel drew staircases. Staircases for the most beautiful houses, the most spectacular skyscrapers. Buildings that someone else in the office had designed. One of the big bosses who were in the limelight, who were celebrated in the press. The stars of the Catalan architecture scene. Miguel could puke. In itself, he could have been satisfied. He wasn't earning too badly. He was a good-looking man. But he spent ten to twelve hours a day in the office. He had never seen one of his construction sites. He left his home at 06:00, he came home at 19:00 or not until 20:00. Sport? Going out? Meeting friends? He was already happy if he managed to finish a ready meal in the microwave. Didn't he have this app? He felt like he had last used it years ago. "One of the big boys in the office," he wrote. Tomorrow he wanted to be one of the bosses.

As a Spaniard, Miguel was used to having to earn respect. The cursed Catalans always thought they were better than everyone else. That was one of the reasons why Miguel almost lived in the gym. Sleep, gym, office, gym, sleep, gym… Getting his muscles to burn was more important to him than being successful here in the office. And with the muscles, success somehow came automatically. In meetings, he was always looked at when a question was open. Miguel knew that he wasn't actually the most talented architect in the office. But thanks to his impressive physique, he had managed to carve out a reasonably decent career. He earned good money, he had a summer house in Mallorca, he fucked the interns. And he was sometimes allowed to suck off one of the gods, the bosses of the office. No more. No less. His career had come to a natural end. He was just 42 years old. Damn it, it had to go on somehow. But as a Spaniard in Catalonia? Not a chance! He searched for this app… What was it called again? Chronivac. What should he enter as a prompt…? "My own master. And Catalan"

Miquel got up at 05:00 and immediately started lifting weights in his carpentry workshop. As a self-employed man, he didn't have a minute to lose. His apprentice and his two fellow carpenters arrived between 06:00 and 06:30. Most of his neighbors could set the clock so that the circular saw would start howling at 06:30. This did not necessarily make Miquel and his workshop popular. But his father and grandfather had already built cupboards and tables here for the neighborhood. The family had made a small fortune. And Miquel was a celebrity in his neighborhood. They called him "the Catalonian Arnold". And indeed, he was not much less imposing than his great role model. When customers came to his workshop, he always went out of his way to flex his muscles. Many of his customers attached great importance to him personally installing the furniture. And it was not uncommon for customers to have the air conditioning turned off. No matter. As a rule, he worked bare-chested whenever possible anyway.

Miquel was a good craftsman and not a bad self-promoter. But as a businessman, he was a failure. His accounts were constantly empty, the demands of social security and the tax authorities constantly hovered over him like a sword of Damocles. How he would love to simply chisel iron and work with wood. His two passions. In fact, he felt like an accountant. He wrote "Be free" in this strange app.

It had been a few years since Miquel had sold his workshop and the house in Barcelona. He had never been back since. But he had heard that Japanese-Chilean tapas were served where he had once assembled cabinets. Although he had received an indecent amount of money for the property by his own admission, he would be able to eat there for maybe a year and then he would be broke. But the last thing he dreamed of was eating Japanese-Chilean tapas in Barcelona.

He no longer worked for money in the village where he had bought an abandoned carpenter's workshop. He worked when he felt like it. Or when someone asked him to. Of course, after just a few hours, his muscular body made him a household name. But first and foremost, the few remaining inhabitants were happy that there was a carpenter in the village again. And what a carpenter. Good with the plane. And good with the tail. Miquel had nailed everything there was to nail in the village. His cock was in a jockstrap encrusted with cum and precum. He stank of sweat and musk. If it bothered anyone, Miquel would press their face into his armpit. Either he was rid of the annoying troublemaker afterwards. Or he had a new victim to fuck. Everything was actually perfect… But something was missing.

Miquel hadn't had a cell phone for years. Anyone who wanted to reach him could reach him. He wasn't a hermit. He had internet in the former sheepfold that he converted into his last home. His supposed last home. Who would know that?

He still remembered the moment when he switched off his last phone for the last time. He had used Chronivac for the last time shortly before that. "A contented man in his prime". Damn, that was him.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #age progression #ai image

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 months

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Binary Star

Part II

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Part I

P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo

_____________

When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.

But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?

All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.

Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.

It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?

He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.

"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."

He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.

Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.

He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.

And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.

He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.

After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.

"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"

Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.

Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?

Or is she scared of him?

He doesn't like the thought.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.

Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."

The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"

If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.

Now, this is about to get interesting.

_________

Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #yandere #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader

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the-offside-rule · 3 months

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Fernando Alonso (McLaren) - Envious

Requested: yes, tumblr via dm

Prompt: Can I please make a request where Fernando is in McLaren. He just won the championship twice and he is seen to be incredibly cocky. Y/n, a TV interviewer does not like this but she does seem fond of Leiws and he gets maddddd. He decides to change for her and please make the ending cute <3 (ITS GONNA BE A TWO PART)

Warnings: cocky Fernando, jealous Fernando

Envious: part 2

Y/n tightened her grip on the microphone, trying to maintain her composure during the interview with the Fernando Alonso. His cocky demeanor had been evident from the beginning, but it seemed to intensify as the questions progressed. They had met back during Fernando's first season in F1 as she was lucky enough to grab an internship. While he at first seemed lovely and polite, his true colours had come when Y/n returned to the paddock the season after Fenrnado won his first championship. He had completely changed. "Do you think you could win the championship a third time, or do you think you've moved past your prime?" Y/n asked, before moving the microphone towards Fernando for him to answer her question.

Fernando flashed a smirk at his interviewer. "Well, you see, I'm just that good, I don't think my prime has even come yet." Y/n clenched her jaw at the first part of his answer. "Of course I think I can win it this year." Y/n rolled her eyes, masking her irritation as best as she could. "Well you have won it twice in an immensely talented grid, I believe you could." Fernando smirked. "Well it's so lovely you agree with me. It seems fairly rare nowadays." He winked. "Thank you for the interview, Fernando. Good luck." She quickly said, her relief palpable. Fernabdo blew her kiss, annoying her as ever. "That's all the media for you today, Fernando. You can-" Fernando stopped listening to his media manager once he heard the unfamiliar sound of Y/n laughing. His head snapped around quickly, only to see his new teammate smiling and laughing with Y/n. She never smiled when she was interviewing him, what made Lewis so special? Their animated conversation and laughter stoked a pang of jealousy in Fernando.

Later on in the evening, Fernando sat in the McLaren hospitality, eating his dinner when he looked out the window to see Lewis and Y/n walking together once again laughing. Lewis stood at the door whilst Y/n simply spoke to him. Fernando looked around to see if there was a camera just on the off-chance that this was for a TV bit, but not a camera was jn sight. Fernando nudged his personal trainer, gaining his attention. "What's the deal with Y/n and Hamilton?" He asked, an edge to his voice. His trainer looked out before responding. "Ive heard they've been going on dates for a few months now. Seems like she's quite taken with him."

Fernando's jaw tightened. "I think so too." Fernando mumbled. His trainer arched a brow at the spaniard. "What?" Fernando shrugged. "Don't tell me you're jealous." Fernando scoffed. "Of course not. It's just-" He paused and nodded towards Lewis. "Him? I'd say she could do better." He laughed, eating a fork full of food. "Whatever puts your mind at ease, Nando." Fernando looked back over to the pair at the door and watched as they hugged. He slapped his fork down on the table and stood up. "Im going to the garage." Fernando announced, marching towards the door. The doors slid open and the cameras began flashing with the sudden departure of Fernando. Y/n didn't even look at him and that only irked him more. He walked straight into his side of the garage and lay against the back wall, looking out onto the pit-lane.

How was he this jealous of Lewis? He was a rookie. And besides, it wasn't like he actually had feelings for Y/n. She was just a journalist. He thought to himself for a moment and closed his eyes in defeat, cursing under his breath. He did like her. Now what?

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #fernando alonso #f1 oneshot #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso imagines #fernando alonso blurb #fernando alonso oneshot

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sl-vega · 1 month

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meet the crew!-introducing: the fans

beidou-owner of the CRUX music store/live house, and your second mom. She opened up the shop when you were seven, and since then, the two of you have been inseparable. She's C✧LESTIA's biggest supporter and the CRUX is your go-to venue for gigs. Despite the live house being small, it's gained a small following of loyal fans and customers. With it's charm and feel-good vibes, Beidou is proud to say that's she's the captain.

jean-owner of the Favonius live house and an agent for the WINDBLUME talent agency. 5WIRL usually practices and preforms at Favonius, and Jean has already made some offers to some of the members (mainly Venti and Scaramouche.)

nahida-scara's neighbour and honourary older sister. She may be young, but she's incredibly intelligent. Everyone in 5WIRL adores her and she's their #1 fan, (Aether says that she could easily be their manager if something bad happened to him). Nahida is one of the few people that Scaramouche has let close to his heart (yes he actually has one, shocker)

charlotte-a fellow classmate of yours, and editor of the school's newspaper. Charlotte's a journalist and a photographer, and she hopes to go pro one day. She's already scored an internship with the Steambird, a well-known newspaper, and she's already got some job offers as a photographer for semi-famous fashion companies. When she's not trying to make a name for herself in the world of journalism, she's taking photos of C✧LESTIA and 5WIRL.

yae miko-a famous model and a family friend of Scara's. Miko models for his mother's cosmetics company, which Scaramouche hates because he already has to see her enough at home, now her face is plastered over every ad he sees.

raiden ei-scaramouche's mother (though he prefers the term "legal gaurdian") and the CEO of Raiden Cosmetics, a successful make-up and fashion company. Her twin sister, Makoto, was once that CEO, but due to her unfortunate passing, Ei had to take over.

additional notes:

-FINAL PROFILES OUT

-I CAN START THE PLOT YOU GUYS

-i don't wanna say anything else cuz i might spoil some things

-but i'll give you a little hint of what's to come:

-mommy issues

-yeah that should be self-explanatory

-i kid you not i forgot what a live house was while i was typing this

masterlist

Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader

Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau

Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?

Or maybe even more?

(OPEN) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu, @levianamor, @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @glxssmemories, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquinq, @justpeachyteastea, @ladyninggs, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @huanator, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan

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haikyubts · 2 years

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CAN I JUST SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE THE STRAIGHTFORWARDNESS IN EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO?

LIke, I love it so much. SO MUCH. The characters are real and simple. Someone like Minwoo, ALBEIT I HATE HIM TO MY CORE, is also real because the world is full of people like him.

I love the dad who makes his daughter the same food everyday, adapts his life around her autism, and does everything for her but I also love how he's a grown adult who réalisés the politics of how and why Youngwoo was given a position at Hanbada. I love how he recognizes her talents, her hardwork and her potential and wants the best for her but knows the world is political and won't offer the same chances to Youngwoo and so he is shrewd when needed and allows for nepotism just so that his daughter gets the job she (rightfully) deserves.

I love Choi Suyeon and how she stands up for Youngwoo all the time, how Suyeon gets upset when anyone or Youngwoo herself downplays herself. I love how Suyeon doesn't beat around the bush in exposing Minwoo, calling him and everyone's bullshit out when they try to pretend that Youngwoo joining the firm via nepotism is bad when Suyeon knows everyone gets a job and internship before clearing college and Yongwoo doesn't get same chance all because of her autism. I fucking love how she accepts that she was one of the people who didn't bother about it but cannot ignore it anymore and despite standing up for Youngwoo, she can also feel as if Youngwoo outshines them and can feel a tad bit jealousy when she says "Anyway Young Woo Is first".

I FUCKING LOVE HOW THE DRAMA DOESN'T HAVE THESE BIG BUILDUP MOMENTS AND DOESN'T CREATE SUSPENSE/TENSION FOR NO REASON and that the fact that Tae Sumi is her mom is revealed so early. The fact that the father reveals Sumi is her mom not in a big buildup moment but in a simple conversation with a daughter trying to leave the house. I love his simple, factual AND YET EMOTIONAL explanation at the hospital, and I love Youngwoo's maturity is accepting and understanding not just the explanation but not blowing it out of proportion. She doesn't react too emotionally because well, the mother has been out of picture forever so why feel as if her world is upside down all of a sudden????

I love how the "I'm Your Daughter" moment is right in episode eight with no fanfare and a simple conversation between the mom and daughter at a side, and while the mom feels the world turn upside down, as it rightfully should be, Youngwoo is straightforward yet slightly emotional and gentle in refusing her. That the drama didn't drag this plot on, about revealing their relationship, not in a grand buildup but in simple moments like in real life WHILE MAINTAINING IT'S TYPICAL DRAMA STEREOTYPES.

I love Junho and how, despite being a main lead, he isn't forever around Youngwoo and we see her story essentially rather than focus only on romance. I fucking love Junho. HUSBAND MATERIAL. SWOON WORTHY with his "So your heart doesn't race if we're not touching? Even when you're with me? That's disappointing" and yet we don't see him around Youngwoo ALL THE TIME. He's not just there in the background but not unnecessarily around her all the time either. I love how the love confessions are simple. With Youngwoo and her autism and trying to understand whether she indeed likes him or not based on how fast her heart beats. That she straight up asks him about it. And that, in today's episode no. 8, we see them being awkward and talk about the incident on "That Day" indicating that they work together all the time but probably didn't get a moment alone until now, in the middle of a regional office in a meeting with another official. I love how they talk about it in a simple, everyday life moment, in a moment of respite they get out of work and Youngwoo's simple "I think I like you." And I fucking love how Junho clearly likes her but the drama Extraordinary Attorney Woo manages to keep it's "dramaness" intact by keeping the audience on toes by not letting us know HIS answer so soon despite us knowing he likes her too.

The second lady isn't a jealous, petty bitch who is a hindrance for the male lead. The Team Leader (Jung Myeongseok) is an understanding man who always listens to his rookies and doesn't interfere in their drama.

There are no product placements!!!

I love all these simple, realistic, everyday moments in the drama. It's SO SO SO REFRESHING, like standing under the Hackberry Tree and feeling the wind on your face.

Extraordinary Attorney Woo is a breath of fresh air and I'm so glad for this. All of these little things the drama managed to catch and hold onto excellently while also having the typical, cliche kdrama moments but never blowing it out of proportion.

I fucking love this drama.

To anyone who hasn't started the drama yet, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO. IT'S ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS YOU'LL WATCH IN A WHILE, IN A LONG TIME.

#kdrama #extraordinary attorney woo #attorney wooyoung woo #park eun bin #kang tae oh #netflix kdrama #netflix #이상한 변호사 우영우

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typical-simplelove · 9 months

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Summer Baby (M. Rantanen)

Summary: Throughout one summer, you're reminded why you fell in love with Mikko all those years ago.

Author's Note: This is my submission for the 2023 Summer Fic Exchange, put on by @wyattjohnston. This is written for the ever-lovely @buttercupjosh. I truly hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: implied!female reader; LOTS of pining; kind of stupid idiots in love; mentions of alcohol; a few curse words

Word Count: 11.7k

When an internship brought you to Denver, Colorado in the summer of 2016, you never thought you’d fall in love. It was supposed to be ten weeks of learning more about the industry you’re working to get your undergraduate degree in. It was supposed to be ten weeks of exploring Denver during the weeknights and exploring the state's beautiful landscapes on the weekend. You weren’t expecting to fall in love, but then you bumped into him on that one trail on your second weekend in the city and everything changed.

He wasn’t a native; his accent made that clear. You couldn’t figure out exactly where he was from, but it seemed to be European. It was his second summer in the city, and he chose to stay in the US instead of returning home. Something about training, he said. Turns out that “training” was preparing for the next hockey season.

Mikko Rantanen, a player for the Colorado Avalanche, stole your heart in ten short weeks, and you never managed to recreate that same love ever again.

In those ten weeks, you got to know him, and he seemed to insert himself into your life, into the crevices that no one else seemed to seep into. He managed to pull out of you emotions, reactions, secrets, and more that no one else in the world seemed to see. He opened up your walls and gates and managed to make himself a permanent mark in your heart, life, mind, and soul.

There was no doubt that you were going to fall in love with him, and halfway through the summer, you knew you did. Your heart burst whenever you had dinner with him, hiked one of the local trails, took a trip to some small town a few hours away on the weekends, talked to him, and watched him train on the ice. Every hug, call, smile, word, and touch had you falling in love with Mikko, piece by piece.

You couldn’t tell if he fell in love with you, but it didn’t matter. You knew that once the internship was over, you’d be heading back to your hometown for a few weeks before moving back to your off-campus apartment. It was never going to work out with Mikko in the long run, so you opted to fall in love with this beautiful, funny, caring, talented, and handsome man who seemed to get you and understand you in a way that no one else on this planet seemed to.

You fell in love, and that final goodbye at the airport was the worst. He kissed your cheek and held you as tightly as he possibly could. He held your hand tightly all the way through the line to check in, and he held on tightly as you walked to the security line. He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist as you waited to get to that first checkpoint where only ticketed passengers could enter. He kissed your forehead and held you tightly when you were second in line. When it was you next in line, he whispered, “thank you for giving me one of the best summers of my life.”

That’s when you realized he fell in love with you just as much as you fell in love with him. Your heart broke right there as he let go of you for the last time and exited the line so that you could go through security. The realization that he loved you was lodged deep in your throat as you mindlessly went through security, towards your gate, and onto the plane. You thought of all the things you could have been doing over the past ten weeks if just one of you was strong and brave enough to tell the other your feelings. But then, you thought about it, and you knew that ten weeks (less, really) wouldn’t have ever been enough with Mikko. As much as you wanted to hold him, taste him, feel him, and do so much more than friendship with him, you knew that once you had a taste of Mikko, you’d only want more. You wanted everything with Mikko, so never getting to experience more than friendship with him was a gift because if you had to say goodbye after knowing him more intimately than possible, then you wouldn’t be able to find the courage to keep going.

Mikko was your greatest love story, and that wasn’t ever going to change, even when you both eventually lost contact due to his hectic travel schedule and your busy schedule with school and work. You didn’t ever forget him. When things got tough, you thought about that one summer with Mikko, all the sunsets and pool days and hikes and shared water bottles. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t think about him. You wanted to search for him online (you unfollowed him a few months after the conversations stopped), but you knew your heart couldn’t take it. It would have been so easy to Google his name, but it took so long for you to come to terms with the ache in your heart; you couldn’t do that to yourself again.

Your heart would always ache for Mikko, that wasn’t going to change.

When you returned to Denver seven years later for relocation for work, the ache in your heart grew. It’s as if your heart and soul knew you were returning to the place where you met Mikko. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him again. What would it even be like to see Mikko again after seven years? Would your heart still burn for him? Would he still light up the room and the world—your world? Would he still manage to seamlessly seep into your crevices and walls and gates and make you feel safe?

Did you still love Mikko with your entire heart?

A few weeks after you moved to Denver and settled into your new apartment, you were off to a friend’s wedding—the first wedding to mark the start of the summer wedding season. Late June weddings were always your favorite (maybe because at that point they were still fun).

You weren’t sure what to expect as you didn’t know anyone. This was one of the friends you made during that internship all those years ago who you managed to stay in touch with. She was born and raised in Colorado and still lived there, and she was really one of the only people outside of work that you knew (besides Mikko, but did he count?)

As you took a seat at the reception in the middle back of the venue, you took in the beautiful scenery. The heat was starting to get you, so you began to fan yourself with your program. You were looking down at your phone, reading a book, when something deep in your stomach urged you to look up at the group of men walking up the aisle to find a seat together. At first, you were confused because you didn’t recognize them. You almost looked down, but then a familiar mop of hair and shoulders sauntered up the aisle and slipped into the last empty seat in that row. It looked like him, but it had been so long that you couldn’t be sure if it even was him.

You keep glancing at him, your eyes darting between him and the arch at the head of the aisle. He needed to turn his head to the side, but he kept leaning forward to talk to someone in front of him. You tried to see if you could hear him (you’d recognize his accent and voice anywhere), but it was too loud.

Thankfully, your stressing over him came to an end when the wedding song began to play and the bridal party began to make their walk down the aisle. Your eyes were trained on the bridesmaids and flower girls when you felt a familiar pair of eyes on the side of your head. The warmth that rose on your face at the feel of his eyes looking at you warmed every blood vessel and nerve in your body. You never knew that you were so cold until his eyes landed on you at exactly that moment. You wanted to look over at him because you knew it was him, but you didn’t know what that would do to your sanity, so your eyes remained trained on the bridal party.

When the warmth slowly faded from your body, you knew that he looked away and retrained his focus on the wedding party. That’s when you finally looked at him. Of course, it was him. If the warmth that spread through your body was any indication, it was him. Of course, he managed to still elicit this reaction out of you.

Mikko Rantanen always had a special effect on you that you couldn’t understand.

You kept wanting to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony, but you kept your eyes firmly trained at the front of the venue where the ceremony was taking place. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him looking back at you throughout the program. You so desperately wanted to look at him and stare deep into his eyes; however, you knew that the minute you did, you’d become still and your body will light on fire. You wouldn’t be able to function, so you kept your eyes strictly fastened on the bride and groom or down on your lap at the program.

He was right there, after seven years, and you were without a doubt still hopelessly in love with him. You thought that after all these years his effect on you would have diminished, but it hadn’t.

As the wedding ceremony ended, you remembered cheering and clapping loudly, but it was all a haze. Mikko was sitting a few rows up, and it took everything in your willpower not to jump over all these people and launch into your arms (that and the fact it would be very embarrassing).

Slowly, you made your way toward where the cocktail party was taking place. You did your best to blend into the crowd and be as inconspicuous as possible. You wanted to see your friend and her new husband, so you joined in the line to greet them. You prayed to whatever deity existed in the world that Mikko wouldn’t see you and wouldn’t walk up to you. You weren’t sure if you could handle talking to him or seeing his stupidly, beautiful face.

Thankfully, after glancing behind you briefly, he and his friends were in line and talking amongst themselves. He was nursing a drink and his back was to you. If things went well, then hopefully you’d be able to make it through the night without talking to him or seeing him. As much as you wanted to return to the center of gravity in the world (him), you worked so hard to heal your heart and soul after having to leave him.

By the time you reached the bride and groom, you were mostly out of your head in stress, anxiety, and overthinking. You hugged her tightly and congratulated her before heading over to the bar and getting a drink. With a drink in hand, you entered the reception area and found your table. You took longer than normal to find your place card because you wanted to see where Mikko was sitting. Thankfully, he wasn’t at your table, and he was at table 11 while you were at 15. Hopefully, that means he’s quite a ways away from you.

You took a seat and introduced yourself to everyone else sitting at your table. As the guests lingered inside, you managed to strike up a conversation with a few of the bride and groom’s coworkers. If this kept up, then you’d be able to make it through the night.

It was forty or so minutes into the reception when you felt that same warmth. This time, it spread from your back to your front. It took you a few moments to collect yourself. You wanted to turn around, but from the sounds of it, the people behind you were chatting away and hadn’t sat down. If he was standing right there, then you couldn’t turn around to look at him. You weren’t ready for that.

He was laughing and talking with someone, and just hearing his velvety voice was enough to send your heart into overdrive. Mikko was right there (right behind you!), and you were just about to die from your heart beating too fast and overheating.

You’re saved, though, by the DJ announcing the entrance of the bride and groom, and you heard the chairs against the marble floor of the people behind you. As much as you wanted to look at him behind you, the way the bride and groom were entering was facing you perfectly, so that meant that if you turned around, you’d see Mikko perfectly and he’d see you perfectly, too.

Someone has to give your willpower a raise because it’s working overtime right now to keep you from turning to look Mikko in the eyes for the first time in seven years because it knows the minute you do, you will be captivated and hypnotized by him, erasing all the work it took for you to continue on with your life.

The rest of the evening carried on, with speeches, dinner, the first/final dances, and the eventual migration of everyone to the dance floor. From the sounds of it, Mikko and his table were on the dance floor, so you felt it was safe to turn and watch. As you suspected, he was right there. You couldn’t help but break out into a wide smile as you watched him dance with the flower girl and twirl her around. He was so vibrant and happy. That’s why you fell in love with him, you remind yourself. He always lit up a room and a life, and right now, he was lighting up the life of that little girl.

You needed a drink, fast, to manage the emotions you felt, so you walked over to the bar, not even thinking that you had to walk right past Mikko. As you were maneuvering through the drunk dancers, you had to slow down, and you heard him call your name. It was loud in the ballroom, but you could hear him perfectly. It sent a wave of ice through your bones before a warm sigh settled. The line at the bar was long, and you could hear him catching up to you, so you took a detour to the washroom.

Just as you opened the door to the washroom, you felt a few fingers on your arm, beckoning you to turn around, but you walked into the washroom, shutting the door as fast as you can. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were so clearly flushed and overwhelmed. Your body was radiating heat like wildfires; you were afraid the heat would melt the ornate decorations in the washroom.

Wanting to calm yourself down, you washed your hands in cold water. You didn’t know how long you were going to wait in that washroom. How long would he wait for you? Thankfully, though, there were some couches, so you took a seat and scrolled through the phone you remembered to grab.

Five minutes went by, and you wondered if Mikko was still out there. You wanted to go back to enjoy the wedding, but you couldn’t in good faith run into Mikko. Just as you were ready to leave the washroom, a woman walks in.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt. She looks at you, slightly startled. “Would you mind telling me if there are any men waiting outside the bathroom?”

“Are you in trouble?” she ardently asks, worried.

Shaking your head, you reply, “I just don’t want to run into an ex.” That was kind of the truth, right?

“Just my husband, I believe, but I wasn’t looking at hard,” she replies. You thank her before she walks into a stall. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of the washroom, your hand still firmly on the handle just in case Mikko is out there, and you need a quick escape.

He isn’t, just that woman’s husband, so you make your way down the corridor. Just as you’re about to think you’re in the clear, a clear, Finnish-accented voice called your name. On instinct, you turned around and tried to make your way back to the washroom, but his hand lightly grasped your wrist. It wasn’t too tight. You could have easily slipped your hand out and walked away, and your heart gleamed at the thought that Mikko gave you an easy and quick escape if you weren’t comfortable.

“Please,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you. The familiar notes to a slow song echoed through the ballroom. “Dance with me?”

You nodded. “Let me just put my phone down on my table.”

“No,” Mikko says, taking your phone out of your hand and slipping it into his pocket. He guided you toward the dance floor, and you bet your entire life savings on him muttering, “I’m not letting you go again.”

At the dance floor, Mikko guided you into a slow sway with one hand on your waist—his thumb stroking small circles on the thin fabric of your back—and another gripping your hand, holding it close to his heart. He was looking down at you, but you were looking at everything except for him. You felt his eyes on you as you mimicked a middle schooler who was too afraid to stare at their crush during the slow song.

“I didn’t know you were going to be in town,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear.

“Yeah, I moved here a few weeks ago,” you tell him, softly, angling your head towards his, slowly. You closed your eyes, not ready to look at him yet. Mikko moves his head, slightly, so his cheek is resting against yours. You both dance like that for a few beats before Mikko slips his hand out of yours and wraps it around your waist and pulls you flush against his body. On instinct, your hand joins your other around his neck, and you pull him close to you.

You. Love. Him. So. Much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers, his breath tickling you and the vibrations ricocheting off his chest to yours. “That you moved here?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me,” you reply, your thumbs playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Mikko moves his head back so quickly that it feels violent. You know he’s looking at you, trying to search your face, but you’ve angled your face away from him, staring off at someone or something else—anything that’s not him. He shifts his head so it's right in front of your line of sight, but you’re quick to look away. That game continues a few times before Mikko sighs and rests his hand beneath your chin, angling his head towards yours. Again, his touch is soft, so you can quickly pull away.

Your fact is angled in a way that he can look you directly in your eyes, but you close them, not ready to look at him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asks, his voice strained and hurt.

“I can’t let my heart break again,” you reply, putting all your force into keeping your eyes again.

Mikko’s grip on your waist tightens as he says, “please look at me. Please.”

That second please is what gets you, so you open your eyes. Your eyes are met with his piercing blue ones, and your breathing and heart rate dramatically increase.

“Mikko—”

You’re not sure what you’re trying to say or what you want to say, but you’re just looking at him. He’s blinking fast, and you know that’s his tell that he’s nervous and scared. He takes his hands off your chin and briefly brushes some of your hair to the side before his hand returns to your waist. You do the same, brushing some of his curls further up his forehead, before leaning closer. You wanted to feel his heat and warmth. You never wanted this cocoon he wrapped you in to end.

“You gave me one of the best summers of my life,” he says out of nowhere. “Of course I’d want you to call.” His voice is low, quiet, rough, and dangerous. You know that if you kissed him right now, he’d kiss you back, but can you do it? Can you let yourself fall into him again knowing how long it took you to fall out of him again? Would the cages and locks and chains on your heart open up again, even though it’s Mikko?

His eyes flicker down to your lips before he stares intently into your eyes again before leaning closer. You’re going to let him kiss you, but thankfully, you’re saved when the DJ says the groom wants to make a small speech. You pull back, and your hands go from around his neck to sliding over his shoulders, down his chest, where they rest on the shirt covering his upper chest.

When the groom starts to talk, you take your hands off him and slowly slip from his hold on you. You slowly reach into his pants pocket and pull out your phone. Mikko’s fingers are lingering on your skin as you look up at him one more time before you slip out of his orbit entirely and back to your table. You grab your clutch and wrap before making your way out of the ballroom and towards your car.

You once let yourself fall into Mikko’s orbit and gravity, and it was one of the best experiences of your life, but it hurt when that orbit and gravity floated away.

You loved him still without a doubt, but would your heart let you open back up and slip back into his orbit?

Mikko was already back in your orbit if tonight was any indication, but could you let yourself fall back into his?

It was a few weeks after the wedding, and you were still reeling from seeing Mikko. You tried your best to forget about him and the feel of his arms wrapped around you, but you couldn’t. When you went to bed each night, you fell asleep, dreaming about his warm body from that one dance at the wedding, and you woke up each morning, sad that your bed was cold because his large, warm body wasn’t right next to yours.

Did you make the right decision to leave? Should you have stayed and talked to him? What more was there to say? (So much more, actually).

Ultimately, though, you weren’t ready to delve into all those emotions with Mikko when you weren’t even sure what you were feeling. Mikko was going to kiss you; it was without a doubt, and you were going to let him. Once he kissed you, though, what came next? For you, that kiss should be the start of something with him. It should be a healing of the ache over the past seven years, and it should tie a bow to the story from seven years ago and start the sequel right now. But you weren’t sure what Mikko wanted. Was it just going to be a kiss because he had someone pretty in his arms? Was it going to mean as much to him as it did to you?

All this overthinking made you realize that maybe it was better that you didn’t kiss him and left. Until you could exactly articulate in words, out loud what you wanted from Mikko, you shouldn’t make any contact with him. It was already so hard to even see him, so going in confused and unsure wasn’t going to solve anything.

That seemed mature, right?

Or were you just running away because you were scared?

One night, you were laying on your couch, one of your favorite sitcoms playing in the background, as you were scrolling through Instagram. You swiped to check a message that one of your friends sent you in response to something you posted on your story. The little (1) next to the requests tab surprised you, so you clicked on the tab and threw your phone across the room when you saw who it was.

Of course, Mikko was acting maturely and reached out to you.

After taking several deep breaths, you got up to retrieve your phone and opened Mikko’s message. From the looks of it, he messaged you a few days after the wedding. He wrote:

Hey. It was really great to see you, and I’d love to see you again to catch up. I have a day off on Saturday and planning on walking and hiking at Cherry Creek Trail. Feel free to join me. I’ll meet you at ten? I’ll wait for you for half an hour. See you soon, hopefully!

He wanted to see you, and he wanted to do it at one of your favorite hiking locations, and he sent this to you three weeks ago. You can’t imagine the emotions he must have been going through to both send this message and wait those three days for Saturday to come. Then, the emotions during that half-hour, waiting for you, and then his heart shattering when you didn’t show up.

You had to text him back. What would you say? How do you apologize to a man who has been nothing but amazing and understanding to you?

After typing, deleting, and overanalyzing your message, you finally sent:

Hey. It was great to see you, too, and I’m sorry that I didn’t see this until now. Your message wasn’t on my main screen, so I didn’t see it. If it makes you feel better, I would have been at the Trail. If you’re free, I’d like to have a raincheck. Let me know!

Once you sent it, you turned off your phone and went to bed. You didn’t know if he was going to make you wait a few weeks like you did. You went to bed that night fearful and excited. You were scared he was going to turn you down, but you were so excited about what could happen.

Turns out, he didn’t make you wait a few weeks. When you turned on your phone the next morning, Mikko responded only a few minutes after you sent your message.

Does this Sunday at 10 work?

After staring at the message for a few moments, you replied, confirming the time worked, and got ready to go to work.

Sunday was only three days away, and if he still hiked and walked like he did seven years ago, then you know your heart was going to go into overdrive.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you parked your car outside the Trail at 9:30 and got out to sit on a bench. You wanted to wait in your car, but you wanted to make up for a few weeks ago when you completely missed Mikko. By the time you sat down, you could see Mikko’s figure jogging over to you from the corner of your eye.

“Hey,” he says, taking a seat next to you. He was in sunglasses, a white T-shirt (you were totally acting normally about this), and black shorts that really only covered his ass. He hands you a bottle of water and says, “this is for you.”

You hold up your own bottle. “I have one.”

“Yeah, but I know you don’t use electrolytes in your water as I recommend,” he replies, a smirk on his face. “I’ll even hold it for you.”

“If you insist,” you tease, shocked that you actually have the power to tease him right now. Your entire body was in overdrive because Mikko looked stupidly handsome right now. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t?

Mikko holds the two bottles in one hand and extends the other to you to take. With a deep breath, you put your hand in his and grasp it tightly. You let yourself soak in the feel of his large hand wrapped around your hand. You can’t look into Mikko’s eyes because you know you’ll see an emotion you’re not ready to address.

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, breathlessly, as if the hike was finished and not in its current state of not even being started.

“Yeah,” you murmur, taking your hand out of Mikko’s. You still feel the ghost of his hand in yours.

The first half-hour of the walk is awkward as both of you can’t find the right words to say. What would you even talk about? Do you address the elephant in the room? Do you pretend you haven’t talked to him in seven years? It used to be so easy talking to him, and now, it’s as if it’s a blind date. You wanted to get back to that point with Mikko, but would you ever be able to?

Thankfully, Mikko breaks the silence first. “It was really nice seeing you at the wedding.”

“Even though I left immediately after we danced?” you ask, putting out a laugh in an attempt at a joke.

“I’d rather you ran away from me than me not seeing you at all,” Mikko says, dead serious, his eyes locked on your walking frame. You look at him, and the intensity of his look on you is enough to make you trip and lose your balance. In true Mikko fashion, he wraps an arm around you in time to help catch you before you fall. Your breathing rate picks up as he keeps his arm wrapped around your waist as you both continue to walk. Mikko must think it’s because you’re dehydrated, so he hands you the water bottle (already opened) he brought for you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, before taking a sip.

“Anyway,” he says, clearly as off-kilter as you are. “Tell me what brings you back to Denver.”

So you told him, and that opened up the floodgates of conversation between you and Mikko that you remembered. You told him all about finishing school, work these past few years, your family, and your life, and he tells you about the hockey season, winning the Stanley Cup, and the recent disappointment in the post-season. You both noticeably leave out any mentions of romantic partners.

In your defense, though, you’re not sure if you’re ready to say that the reason you haven’t been in a true relationship in the past seven years is that you’ve been trying to find someone who made you feel the same way that Mikko made you feel.

When you’ve come up to a peak on the trail, you and Mikko stop and take in the sights. Seeing a big boulder, Mikko pulls you over to sit. He sits first and pats the empty side of the boulder for you to fit. Taking a deep breath, you sit next to him—your entire right side is up against and aligned with Mikko’s left side. The feel of his sweaty arms should repulse you, but he smells amazing. You always knew he smelled amazing, but sweaty, Mikko smells like a Greek god.

Just the feel of Mikko up against you makes you wobbly, and you almost fall off the side of the boulder. Mikko wraps an arm around you and holds you tightly against him so that you don’t fall again. You both sit there, breathing in sync, as you stare out at the sight before you.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Mikko asks, not looking at you.

“How much did you miss me?” you reply, meekly.

“I missed you so much that I could barely breath,” he confesses. “My entire heart has ached for you over these past seven years, and not a day went by where I didn’t think about you.”

You blink a few times before turning your head to look at him to find him already looking at you. “I definitely missed you as much as you missed me.”

He smiles his smile, and it’s enough to almost make you fall backward, but Mikko’s arm tightens around you, almost knowing the influence he has on you. You lean into his side, content with the feel of your body against his and just his body overall.

“We could have been doing this for years,” you whisper, not sure if you want Mikko to hear you.

“Then let’s make up for it now,” he replies, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. His hand around your waist is stroking soft patterns on your left side as you let yourself sink into Mikko’s hold. He has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable and loved.

If this hike has shown you anything, it’s that Mikko was your future. His gravitational pull was always going to pull you in and keep you close and secure no matter what. You loved him with your entire soul and being, and maybe one day, you’d be ready to tell him.

“Ready to go back down?” Mikko asks, his breath tickling your forehead.

“Yeah,” you say, reluctantly, and get up. When was the next time you were going to be this close to him?

Once Mikko gets up, he peels off his shirt, and your mouth goes agape at the sight of his chest. His chest was magnificent when he was just twenty, but now, it looks like it’s been sculpted by the heavens. How could someone’s chest be that beautiful? You knew he was going to take off his shirt when he got too sweaty, and you thought you had prepared yourself for it, but you never suspected that he would grow into himself so handsomely.

Mikko smirks at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He needed all the extra points from you if he was going to convince you he was enough to spend the rest of your life with.

“I’m going to start,” he says, turning around. “Catch up when you’ve caught your breath.”

When he turned and revealed his back to you, your knees wobbled. This man was going to be the actual death of you.

Mikko had opted not to return to Finland for the summer to try to work on his training in Denver, so he proudly said that he was all yours for the summer. You weren’t sure if you wanted all this undivided Mikko attention, but then when he texted you on a random Wednesday asking if you wanted to meet him for lunch during your lunch break, you realized it was a good thing, all this attention.

He met you at a restaurant down the street from you and was waiting outside for you. When you walked up to him, he opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. You breathed in his scent and realized that he hasn’t changed his cologne in all these years. The fact that it hasn’t changed somehow made your throat tighten up. It took everything in you not to cry. He was still the Mikko you loved seven years ago.

“Ready?” he asks, a smile wide on his face as he linked in hand to yours. You nodded and allowed him to lead you inside the restaurant.

Once seated, you and Mikko didn’t say anything as you both peered over the menu, but every now and then, you both would look up at the same and catch each other’s eyes before guiltily looking back at the menu, your faces warm with embarrassment. Finally, though, you decided what you wanted to order, so you closed your menu and decided to observe him as he poured over the menu. He was wearing a white button-down shirt that was tight in all the right places. He had a few of his top buttons undone, giving you a sneak peek at that perfect chest. When he thinks, he always sticks out his tongue, slightly, and he was doing just that. You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and taste him. How was it possible someone was so pretty?

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he teases, not looking up from his menu.

“Great idea,” you reply, pulling out your phone and taking a perfect picture of him. If he put on a pair of dark glasses, then he could look like a handsome college professor.

Mikko just shakes his head and laughs softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Buy me lunch?” you suggest, playfully.

“Always was the plan,” he answers, closing his menu. He opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter comes over to take your order. From the corner of your eye, you watch him deflate a little at not being able to say what he wanted to say. You wonder what he was going to say to you.

After the waiter walks away, Mikko pulls in his chair to get a smidge closer to you. In the process of doing so, he manages to knock his legs with yours, but you don’t jump or move at the touch. Instead, you let his lower legs rest against yours as he sits. You and Mikko always were heavy on the physical touch.

“Tell me about your current project at work,” Mikko says. As you explain to him about your current work project, he can’t help but love the way you get animated about work and talk with your hands. The features on your face are lit up by both your emotions and the lighting in the restaurant. And when you lean forward to talk to him as if you’re telling him a secret, Mikko is pretty sure that you can hear his heartbeat—it’s racing. He leans forward, too, creating a cone of isolation from the rest of the restaurant as he listens to you talk. You always could captivate him more than anyone else in the world could.

It’s no wonder he fell in love with you all those years ago and never fell out of love.

You’re so close to him that he could kiss you. He’s still listening, but he’s also thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. He could just lean forward an inch or two and rest his lips on yours. He could finally settle the question about what you taste like, and he can finally convey to you how he feels.

He never was good at words, especially when it came to English, but with you, it was even harder. He had all these things he wanted to say, both in English and Finnish, but he could never get them out. His mother suggested writing them out and giving you a letter, but where would he start? Would he start with how you were his entire world? Would he continue with how your magnetic force always pulled him in regardless of how far away you were? Would he mention that he’d give up everything to be by your side forever? Will he write about how he wanted to take you home with him to Finland and recreate all his memories there with you because he wanted everything with you?

There were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he never had the courage to do so.

You were still talking, and he desperately wanted to kiss you, and he was going to. He was really, really close to your lips, but then the fucking waiter shows up and ruins the moment again.

You both pull away, and you clear your throat to clear your head from how you were pretty sure Mikko was going to kiss you.

As you both start to eat, it’s difficult to get back into that cone of isolation that you were both in, but you’re still drawn to him like opposite sides of a magnet.

The rest of lunch goes normally as you both catch up more and talk. Still, you're yearning for that cocoon of isolation and intimacy from before. You know you've always had Mikko's undivided attention, but the way it was a few minutes ago made your heart burst. He paid attention only to you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that.

The only comfort from leaving that cone was the fact that Mikko's leg was still resting against yours. That warmth was enough to keep a smile on your face. That's why I loved him, you remind yourself. He always knew what to do to keep you smiling.

At the end of lunch and a brief argument over who's paying the bill (Mikko won), he's walking you back to your building.

"Hey, when you have a free weekend, do you want to drive out to Aspen?" he suggests. "We can go hiking or just hang around the downtown area. We could rent a small cabin and just hang out."

"That sounds perfect," you reply. "I'll call you one day this week, and we can plan it?"

"Yeah," he replies, a wide smile on his face.

When you got back to your building, Mikko kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye before he stepped away and watched you walk back into the building.

You were going to be the end of him.

After planning and discussing and filing for PTO, you and Mikko were off to Aspen for a four-day weekend late on a Thursday night. You managed to get Friday and Monday off, so you and Mikko were going to spend four days hanging out and relaxing in the Aspen mountains. As you were packing, you couldn’t help but wonder what this weekend was going to do for your emotions and feelings for him. Often rather than not, you spent your free time with him, taking walks around the city, going for hikes, having movie nights, or going out for dinner and/or drinks. None of that was helping. Four days in the mountains with Mikko? Your heart was going to be working in overdrive.

It was roughly one hour into the drive when your GPS alerted you that there was a slow down up ahead, causing delays of up to sixty to ninety minutes. As Mikko’s car came to a standstill and the automatic shut-off came on, you and Mikko glanced at each other and laughed. You thought that leaving on a Thursday night after work would allow you to miss any traffic, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“Good thing we have snacks,” you mention, reaching into the back seat to grab the cooler of snacks you packed.

“Hopefully, we make it before the office that’s holding our keys closes,” Mikko muses when you hand him a bottle of water.

The office closed at nine. There was going to be a chance that you and Mikko wouldn’t make it in time. As if sensing your anxiety, Mikko takes your hand in his and says, “don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

His warm and large hand in yours was all you needed to calm you down. It always was your cure for any bouts of anxiety you’d feel.

For about half an hour, no one in traffic was moving. Everyone was still at a standstill, and as the night sky turned into a golden haze of sunset, there was no doubt in your or Mikko’s minds that you weren’t going to make it in time.

“It looks like everyone’s turning off their cars to conserve gas,” you say, noticing the lights of many cars turning off. “Thankfully, it’s not too hot.”

“Yeah,” Mikko responds, turning off his car right after opening some windows for a breeze. “This wasn’t how I thought this weekend would go.”

“We’ll still find a way to make it fun.”

Mikko looks over at you with a soft smile on his face. Your heart nearly stopped at seeing him looking at you with all the love in his eyes. His stupid, beautiful face was looking at you as if you were the queen of the world. He was looking at you as if he wanted to devour you and longingly love you for the rest of his life. And with the sun setting behind him and all the colors creating a beautiful backdrop, your entire body warmed and clenched at the idea that you got so lucky as to know him and his stupidly, beautiful features. How did you get so lucky not only to meet him but have him as a friend and fall in love with him?

Well, falling in love with Mikko wasn’t luck. Mikko was easy to fall in love with. It took no effort. With one look, it was fated that your heart would always be his. Even if you went to the far ends of the universe and saw and met some of the most beautiful and amazing people in the universe, your heart would always beat and return to Mikko. That was the hold he had on you.

Your heart and soul were always his. That’s what was written in the stars at their first moment of creation.

“Are you okay?” Mikko whispers, not wanting to disrupt you. He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, but you were staring and observing him, so he wanted to know what you were thinking. His head was blocking any of the sunlight from reaching your face. His dark shadow was on your face, causing a cascade of light to halo around your form. You were sitting there, in his car, like a dream.

There were so many times over the past seven years when he’d get in the car and look over and hope and beg the universe that you would be sitting there next to him. He wanted to drive you around and show you off, and he wanted you to be right there next to him for all of his adventures in life, and he wanted to be right there next to you in all your adventures in life.

You were sitting there, looking so stunning and a replica of his dreams, and the sun was shining around you, enshrining you in a halo, looking like someone sent from up above.

You are the love of Mikko’s life, and his heart aches to know you’re right there but also so far out of reach.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, your voice sounding dry and hoarse. “You just look really fucking beautiful with the way the sun is shining around you.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replies. He tries feeling around his (super short, in your opinion) shorts pockets to find his phone, but he can’t, so he reaches across your lap for your phone to take a picture of you. He readjusts his head so that he can illuminate you in that same glow before he snaps a few photos of you. You give him a soft smile for the pictures, and he knows right then and there that every centimeter of his heart is yours. All the blood that courses through his veins and heart, all the nerve endings throughout his body, and all his bodily metabolic processes are yours. His body beats and moves and functions and acts for you. It’s always been for you.

“Please send it to me,” Mikko requests, his throat suddenly dry.

“Of course,” you reply, swiping through the photos before you pick your favorite to send to him.

“All of them,” he growls.

You look at him and give him a funny look. “But some of them I don’t look good in.”

“That’s your opinion, not mine. I want them all. Please.”

You scrunch your eyebrows and forehead in laughter and send them all to him. Once you do, you begin, “Your turn for photos, Mr. Always-Beautiful Man.”

His heart sings for your praise and words of calling him beautiful. That was the highest compliment anyone has ever given him. All of his hockey awards and praises combined do not compare to you complimenting him in any shape or form.

You turn in your seat to get a better angle of Mikko. Not satisfied, you place your phone on the center console before you reach over to place your hands on his face to readjust the angle and shape of his face. You brush your hands over the hair on his forehead before softly stroking his cheekbones and settling back in your seat.

Yes, Mikko’s heart is beating so fast that the force could launch his heart through his sternum into your lap.

As you’re snapping photos, Mikko hopes that you can’t tell how much he loves you. Is it possible to see, in his eyes, that he wants you in every single possible way but he’ll wait until you say the word? With one word, you could build up his world and universes, and with one word, you could make him yours. Then again, he always was at your will, and that truly never will change. He was fully yours seven years ago, and now, he’s completely yours, just heightened.

“I hate how photogenic you are,” you comment, swiping through the photos, taking Mikko out of his thoughts. “It’s not fair.”

“Sorry,” Mikko says, looking at his phone and setting one of the photos of you as his home screen.

“Sure you are,” you reply, turning to face the front of the car and rolling your eyes as you begin to munch on a snack.

He really wasn’t. He wasn’t going to apologize for captivating you with his looks when you do the same every damn time he looks at you.

Five hours later, well after the 9 pm deadline to pick up the keys, and close to midnight, you and Mikko reached the rental cabin in Aspen. You called ahead, trying to see if they would leave your keys under the welcome mat, but they replied, saying it wasn’t safe.

“Should we find a motel?” you suggest, sitting in the car trying to figure out what to do.

“We could always just sleep in the car,” Mikko counters. “I’m not sure if there will be any rooms open.”

“So, we just roll back the seats and sleep?”

“Yeah,” he replies, getting out of the car to find his pajamas in his overnight bag in the trunk. You quickly follow and do the same. “You can change in the car, and I’ll change out here.”

“Okay,” you reply, breathlessly. You were going to be changing into pajamas with Mikko just a few feet away from you. You’ve done that before, but normally, there are walls blocking his view, but this time, he can look right through the windows and watch you. Did you want him to watch you and see parts of your body he’s never seen before? Just the idea of him getting to see more of you sets your body on fire.

When you’ve pulled out your pajamas and sweatshirt, you move to the driver’s seat, knowing he has more legroom because he’s taller. You close the door but don’t start changing. You can see, through the driver’s side mirror, Mikko has pulled his shirt over his head and is folding it up before putting on his pajama shirt. Oh, that back. Yeah, you’re waiting until he’s done changing before you do anything. When he pulls down his shorts and is standing there in only a sweatshirt and boxers, your heart begins palpitating. You knew he had massive thighs and ass that can win a competition but in only boxers? It was no wonder your brain was malfunctioning. This man was beautiful and handsome in every single possible way.

This kind, compassionate, caring, talented man had a body that can win first place in any beauty competition. It wasn’t fair that he was the most amazing person you’ve ever met and ridiculously, stupidly, handsome.

Of course, you fell for him.

When he was done changing, he looked over his shoulder to see if you were done changing, and you were quick to turn your eyes away from the mirror. It was dark, so he probably couldn’t see that you were staring at him as he changed (like a stalker), but still.

As you began to change, Mikko turned his back to you and waited until you opened the car door to signal you were done. It took everything in his willpower not to turn and see you change. What would it do to him to see even more of you? He knew you inside and out, and he knew everything there was to know about you, and he loved it all. To see more parts of you that you’ve never shown him? His entire body would fall in on itself.

He’s twiddling with his thumbs when the horn of the car makes him jump. He turns his head to see what the matter is. When he sees your bare shoulder, he knows it was an accident, but he’s frozen in place. All he’s getting is your bare shoulders and an inch of your upper back, but it’s enough to put his entire body in a haze. He never knew shoulders could be so perfect, but yours were incredibly fucking perfect. He wanted to rest his hands on your shoulders in support, he wanted to kiss your shoulders as he held you against his body during movie nights, and he wanted to brush away hair from your shoulders and back as he helped you put on a necklace.

Mikko quickly looks away, but he knows that during this weekend, he’s going to fall more and more in love with you.

When you get out of the car after changing, you and Mikko are both warm and exhilarated from seeing bits of the other changing that you both get ready to sleep in silence. The only sounds are the crickets outside and you and Mikko lowering the seats. When you both lay down, you finally look over at Mikko to find him already looking at you. The moon was illuminating his skin and figure perfectly; it made you burst with love.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs in reply. My love

You’re quick to get into a comfortable position; however, a chill racks through your body, so you scrunch into a ball to make you warm.

“Cold?” Mikko asks. You can hear the concern in his voice.

“A little,” you lie, not wanting to make him worry.

“Come over here,” he suggests, opening up his arms for you. He takes the sweatshirt he was going to use as a pillow and dangles it as a reward.

Slowly, you maneuver yourself over the center console and onto Mikko’s seat. It’s not big, so you’re entirely wedged up against him. You take the sweatshirt from him and put it on; you let the warmth engulf you. You knew that Mikko was kind and caring, but to provide you with everything you needed at that moment was a new level of kindness and heart to Mikko you never knew possible.

He pulls you flush against him and wraps an arm around you. You wrap your arms comfortably against your chest and let yourself soak in his warmth.

“Are your hands still cold? Your legs?” he asks.

You nod, letting your forehead fall to the space between his collarbones. In one swift motion, Mikko wraps a leg around your legs, letting the warmth from his sweatpants-clothed leg send warm sensations through your body, and takes your arms and moves them beneath his sweatshirt, allowing his sturdy chest to warm you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the sleep induced by his warmth coming.

“Whatever you need,” he replied, resting an arm tightly around your waist. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

You’re half asleep when you hear the last sentence, but it warms you nonetheless. Here was this man who was willing to give you the shirt off his back. How were you ever supposed to love another man when Mikko set the standard?

Since the Aspen trip, the rest of the summer went by in a haze. The remaining weeks were spent hanging out in Mikko's backyard, picnics in local parks, movie nights on your couch, and dinners in the local restaurants. Before you knew it, training camp was around the corner, and more of Mikko's time was spent in the gym, getting ready for the upcoming season. While it hurt to spend less time with him, you understood, and this time around, you went and watched him on the ice. You knew Mikko was an excellent hockey player, but you never once watched him in person. It was so enchanting watching him set up plays and glide across the ice. Who knew the love of your life was so incredibly talented?

The weekend before training camp started, Mikko planned on hosting a barbecue to welcome the team and their families back to Denver. He invited you. At first, you were going to say no because you didn't feel like you belonged at the event, but you knew that Mikko would pout and sulk until you said yes. You didn't want him to know the kind of power he held over you.

The day before the barbecue, Mikko called you frantically. He had no idea what he was doing and asked you to come over early to help.

"What makes you think that I know anything about hosting?" you asked, taking a little jubilation at knowing there was something that Mikko wasn't good at (because he seemed good at everything!).

"I don't. I just know you calm me down."

Well, then.

You showed up the next day, a bag of groceries in hand, ready to help Mikko host. You weren’t quite sure how you were going to help him in any way he asked (you’d do this, even if he wasn’t in a crisis).

Carefully, you used the spare key he gave you and unlocked his house. You didn’t want to scare him, so when you entered and took off your shoes, you announced your presence quietly. He wasn’t in the kitchen, you noticed, so you placed the groceries you purchased in the fridge. Upon further listening, you could hear him singing along to a song in the washroom. He must be cleaning it.

“Hey,” you said, poking your head into the bathroom. He was playing his music, loudly, as he scrubbed the toilet.

“Hey,” he replied, looking at you, a smile wide on his face. “When did you get here?”

“Maybe five minutes ago. I bought you potato salad and hotdog and hamburger buns.”

“You’re the best,” Mikko replies, giving you a sweaty hug. “I’m almost done here, and then we can start preparing the food.”

As he finished cleaning the rest of the washroom, you leaned against the door frame, watching him and talking to him. You tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying, but your eyes couldn’t help but drift to his arms as they flexed as he scrubbed the toilet. You knew he had large and attractive arms, but you weren’t ever aware he had such attractive veins. Finally, you understood what your nursing friends meant when they called veins “delicious.” All you wanted to do was run your fingers along his veins.

When he finished, you followed him to his kitchen where he washed his hands and discussed with you what the plan for preparing was. The event was a potluck event with individual families bringing sides while Mikko supplied the grilled foods.

“We’ll start with the grilling once people start to arrive,” he tells you, looking through the fridge.

“What did you pick up?”

“Hotdogs, hamburgers, turkey hotdogs, some bean hamburger that someone requested, corn, and zucchini,” he lists off.

“So, should we just put out drinks and cutlery and set things up for people to get drinks and snacks?”

Mikko nods his head, his heart warming at the idea that he was hosting a barbecue with you. It was the domesticity of it all that was setting his heart aflame.

By the time you and Mikko had set out snacks and drinks with small paper plates and napkins, the doorbell rang, alerting that the first couple of people had arrived. Mikko opened the door and welcomed guests while you opened up the sliding door towards the backyard to facilitate easy movement from the backyard to the inside of the house.

The next hour passed as more guests arrived. Mikko fired up the grill while you helped in the kitchen, topping off drinks and organizing the dishes people brought. You didn’t get a chance to see Mikko or hang around him, but every now and then, you’d get a look at him, outside grilling, and your heart would pick up seeing how happy and in his element he looked. It also didn’t help that the sun was hitting his skin perfectly.

A few times, Mikko would search through the crowd, looking for you, whether you were inside or in the backyard. He’d catch your eye and smile widely at you. Sometimes, he’d wink at you before giving you his signature grin. Some of the spouses around you picked up what Mikko was doing and made sure to tease you every time he did.

They were convinced that he had feelings for you, but you kept denying it. Sure, maybe seven years ago he did, but you really weren’t sure where he was on the feelings-for-you spectrum right now. He was your best friend, that’s all.

When he called out that the grilled foods were ready, a buffet line started with people starting at the grill, getting their choice of food before going inside for sides and topping off their drinks. Mikko stayed at the grill to help serve while you went inside to facilitate easy movement around the kitchen island and helped top off drinks. By the time the last people had gotten their food and were seated at the tables and chairs outside, you were about to make your way to the grill to start your own plate, but Mikko walked in first, holding two plates. He handed one to you and said,

“I got you your favorites.”

Taking the plate out of his hands, your fingers lightly brushed his as you thanked him. He placed his empty hand on the small of your bag and guided you into the kitchen to fill your plates on the sides.

When you and Mikko got outside, you started to walk toward one end of the table with some of the people you’d been talking to throughout the day, but Mikko had other plans.

“Nope,” he said, a hint of jealousy and possession in his voice. He wrapped an arm around your waist and took you to an area of the table that had two empty seats. He’s never used that tone with you before, and it made the deepest parts of your body and soul come alive with fire.

Throughout the meal, Mikko had his hand on your thigh the entire time. When he first rested his hand there, you nearly choked on your food. Sure, Mikko was touchy with you, but it was usually an arm hanging around the top of whatever chair you were sitting in or an elbow resting on your shoulder. He never put his hand on your thigh before, and he knew exactly what it did to you because as he watched you drink some water to clear your throat after a coughing fit brought on by his touch, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath hot and exhilarating against your cheek,

“Are you okay?”

Without looking at him, you knew he had a smug grin on his face.

“Peachy,” you replied, not giving him any look. He chuckled in your ear in response and pulled back to continue eating, but his hand didn’t leave your thigh.

When you were both done eating, Mikko leaned back in his seat. Deeming it wasn’t close enough to you, he scooted his chair closer to you and changed the position of his hands. The hand that was previously resting on your thigh migrated to rest against the back of your chair, parallel to your shoulders. His thumb was tracing soft circles on the soft skin between your neck and the point of your shoulder. His other hand took one of your hands and place it in his laugh. He intertwined his hands with yours as his thumb traced small circles along the pulse point of your wrist.

This time, you weren’t shocked at the touch and leaned into his body.

You and Mikko sat like that for the next half-hour as conversation filled his backyard and everyone got more food and caught up after a summer away from each other.

Noticing that most people were done with their food and had thrown their plates and utensils into the trash, you asked, “Should we bring out the dessert?”

“Sure,” Mikko said, mentally preparing himself to let go of you. As if seeing you both unwillingly moving from your seats, Gabe piped up saying he and a few other people can grab the dessert.

“You two have done so much already,” Gabe comments. “You two relax.”

After giving him directions about where to find everything, you and Mikko relaxed back into each other, a breath you both didn’t know you were holding breathed out.

A few minutes later, Mikko nudges you with his knee, and you look at him to find him already looking at you. He had a soft smile on his face as his eyes roamed across your face. You weren’t sure what he was searching for, but with a small smile, you knew he found what he was looking for.

“Thank you for helping me, today,” he says, his voice quiet amongst the loud atmosphere in the backyard. With those six words, all the other voices faded away, even as cheers went up when the dessert was brought out.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, an earnest look in your eyes. “What else are friends for?”

“I’d say we put on a good event, no?”

“I’d say you’re right.”

After that, neither of you says anything, but you’re both still looking at each other, searching over each other’s features for that secret message that neither of you truly knows what it is. It’s not until Mikko leans closer and his eyes go down to your lips does your heart stop and you get breathless. You and Mikko have been practically sitting on top of each other for the past hour, but it’s not until he leans less than a centimeter closer to you do you get breathless.

The hand that was wrapped in your hand goes to cup your cheek. In a matter of seconds, he leans down and gently places his lips on yours. His thigh is bouncing up and down in nerves, and on instinct, one of your hands goes to cover his gargantuan thighs as your other hand goes to the back of his head to pull him closer to you.

This, this is what you’ve been waiting for.

His lips are soft against yours as he deepens the kiss, both his hands now resting softly against your face. Slowly and breathlessly, Mikko pulls away, his nose resting against yours.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” you echo, still not quite believing that this was happening.

“I fell in love with you seven years ago and never stopped. When I saw you at that wedding, it was like the universe gave me another chance. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

You shake your head before placing a soft peck on the tip of his nose. “I could have told you how I felt, too.”

“I love you,” he whispers, a wide smile lighting up his face.

“I love you, too,” you murmur, closing the space between his lips and yours. When his lips touch yours again, it feels like the universe is perfectly aligned. Everything is perfect because finally, finally, you and Mikko are on the same page.

Kissing him feels like summer, and you will always be catching feelings for him.

When you first landed in Denver at the start of the summer, running into Mikko was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn’t want to think about the feelings you had for him that one summer seven years ago, and you didn’t want to think about how hard it was to live your life in conjunction with those feelings after you returned home.

You always knew that Mikko was the one for you. It was always going to be him.

As you tape up your final box, four years later, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like if you didn’t have that dance with him at the wedding. It’s hard to imagine what your life would turn out to be if you didn’t see that text from him. It’s especially hard to see what your life would be like if he wasn’t the first one to confess.

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, holding a box, leaning against the door frame of your apartment. “If you’re not ready to move in with me, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you interrupt. “I’m just reflecting.”

Mikko smiles. “Then reflect all you want. I’ll be waiting for you. Always.”

And with that, a new chapter in your life began. With Mikko at your side and you at Mikko’s side.

The End

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you thought; any form of feedback is greatly appreciated!

#mikko rantanen #claudia writes #mikko rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen imagine #hockey writing #nhl writing #hockey fic #nhl fic #op: 2023 #the album series

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ventingfanfics · 1 year

Text

Best Date Ever (Shuri x Reader)

Maybe engineering wasn’t Shuri’s only talent. She was also decent at acting. Every time you two were around each other, she managed to keep her cool, despite internally squealing. Riri, Okoye, M’Baku, and Nakia were the only ones aware of her true feelings. And they teased her accordingly. You recently started working at the lab as a paid internship while you went to school. According to Shuri’s sources, you were a player. Okay, so not officially. You were very charming and easy to get along which garnered a lot of suitors. There was only one person, however, who had your interest.

“Hey princess, I like your kicks,” You said. It was getting late, which explained why many of the staff were proceeding to leave the lab. You were in no rush. Sometimes you didn’t mind staying late if it meant tomorrow would be easier for you. Plus, it meant you got to spend more time with Shuri. “You should let me borrow them.”

“I don’t think we wear the same size,” Shuri replied.

“Where’d you get ‘em from? Maybe we can go to the store and you can help me find a pair.”

“I got these online.”

Anyone else would probably be a little annoyed, but you just grinned. “Doesn’t mean I have to. Come on, Shuri, put me on. Where do you get your fashions? Unless you design them all.”

“Pretty much,” she said with a smirk and gestured around at some of her creations.

You pretended to think, though you did wonder the answer to your next question. “What would it take to get you to design some gear for me?”

Shuri cracked a smile, and you mentally fist-pumped. She controlled her laugh. “Let’s see…maybe not being an intern.”

“Ouch. Ice Princess it is, then, huh?”

She folded her arms, looking you up and down, as if saying “and what about it?”

You sighed. “Well, that was unsuccessful.”

Shuri laughed and watched as you packed up your bag. Unbeknownst to you, the look in her eyes became longing. You looked up, ready to say bye, and you saw her quickly avert her eyes. She cleared her throat.

You raised an eyebrow and looked on, amused. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow…”

“Mhm. You will.”

“Tomorrow’s a long time, though. Why are you rolling your eyes? I mean it, Shuri.”

“I know you tell all the girls this.”

“No, just the ones I’m attracted to. And there’s only one person occupying that space.”

Shuri’s heart raced at the boldness of your words and gaze. You stepped close to her and she stiffened like a board, except for her trembling hands.

“What’s wrong, pretty?” You asked, concerned.

She refused to look at you, but you stopped that by grasping her jaw.

“N-nothing,” she answered, solemnly peering at you.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing, princess.” You separated from her only to sit on her desk and sit her in between your legs.

She blushed. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Yes, you are.”

She battled a smile, meanwhile you happily showed yours with ease. She sighed, leaning back against you, which made your heart swell. You wanted to hold this moment. The two of you stayed like this until she thought someone was coming. At that, she budged and went around to her desk, busying herself.

You laughed lowly, shaking your head at the engineer. “Princess, you’re grown.”

She gave you a look. “Duh, Y/N.”

“So, why did you scramble away like you got caught stealing?”

“Maybe if you didn’t have the reputation you have, I would be more relaxed,” she said in defense.

“And what reputation is that?” You asked, though you were sure you knew the answer. You had suspected that some kind of fear was holding Shuri back. You just weren’t sure what the fear stemmed from.

“Really, Y/N? You’re going to sit there and pretend you don’t know people call you a player.”

“So that makes it true?”

Cat got her tongue.

“I just don’t want to get hurt,” she admitted quietly. Even though you were offended, you wanted to hug her right now. You knew she’d been through a lot. Her heart was probably in a very fragile state. “But that doesn’t mean I should judge you without getting to know you.”

You smiled. “Does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

Shuri laughed when your destination turned out to be a sneaker store.

“I promise this is a small part of the date,” You told her.

She didn’t say anything, just amusedly walked inside the store, looking around. You were amazed at how quickly she found the very pair of sneakers you were interested in. They were a nice replica of Shuri’s pair, though she had made her own customizations.

“Try them on,” she said and waited for you to do so. You felt warm at her treating you like you were her child, asking you how they fit and if they were comfortable. “Do you like them?”

You confirmed that you did and she nodded, walking off to go pay for them despite your protests.

“What do you say?” She asked teasingly as you left the store.

“Thank you, princess.”

“You welcome. Mine are still better, though.”

Next, you took her to a tattoo parlor. She had recently mentioned at the lab that she was planning to get another tattoo. By the widening of her eye and parted lips, you knew she was surprised that you knew.

You encouraged her to squeeze your hand. She insisted that it was no thang. She would go on to squeeze your hand, however, reasoning that she was rusty because it had “been a while.”

“Are you gonna get one?” She asked, smiling.

You told her you’d think about it. “It’s not about me tonight,” You said in her ear and you could see a big smile spread on her face.

When you arrived a fondue restaurant, Shuri failed to contain a giggle.

“Why do you keep laughing, woman? Are you trying to crush my ego?”

Shuri’s amusement turned into a side-eye. “First of all, Y/N, no one should have that kind of power over you. And second, I’m laughing because I feel like a kid again.” She smiled.

“I get it.”

She kissed your cheek and pulled you to follow the usher who led you both to your table. Dinner was a hit and not just because of the food. Shuri wasn’t just beauty and brains, she was easy to talk to and banter with. You decided you could probably talk to her all night and truly not get bored.

“What was your first impression of me?” You asked.

“Oh,” she said and you both shared a soft laugh. She stared at you deeply. “I thought you were…hmm…” She stroked her jaw.

“You thought I was a player, apparently.”

“No, you right, I did. But I thought you were nice, smart, and a baddie.”

You smiled widely. “Oh, I’m a baddie?”

She conveniently sipped her drink.

“I thought you were all of those things…and…” You paused for dramatic effect.

“And?” She pressed.

“A little stuck-up. Just a smidge.” You made the gesture with your thumb and pointer. “At least towards me. But I like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am not stuck-up, Y/N.”

“Just a little smidgington. Come on, you know you’re sassy.”

“I disagree, I’m just clever.”

“That too. You’re all of those things, and I’m not mad. You have every right to be, with your fine princessy ass.”

She struggled not to laugh. “Y/N!”

You chortled, pleased with her reaction as she held her stomach, doing the silent kind of cracking up. She got up and sat next to you, grabbing your face. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hopefully something…nah, let me stop.” You held off from saying something inappropriate. Shuri was flustered as it was, though she clearly entertained by it.

“What do you want to do to me?” You questioned softly. Oh, you thought, noticing her stare harden. And before you knew it, she tightened her grip, kissing you firmly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her forehead to yours. She didn’t mean to kiss you roughly. She wanted you to like her kiss. You opted to encourage her physically. You stroked her forearm before softly and slowly molding your lips together once more. Craving more, Shuri leaned closer to you, enabling you to feel her body warmth. Your name never sounded better, courtesy of her mouth. “Y/N…”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, kissing her neck. She looked so blissed out. It was beautiful.

She gripped your thigh as if for relief. Her breathing picked up when your neck kisses progressed into sucks. You marveled at her sensitivity, which was also surely heightened by being in a public place. You wanted her so bad you didn’t care. But you could’t have y’all go out like that. She whined a little when you ended your efforts to give her a love bite.

“Sssh, we can continue this at my place, if you want, only if you want to,” You assured her. You meant this, too. It was up to her to decide if she wanted to proceed. You wanted her to be completely sure.

After fighting over who would pay the bill, you both agreed to split the check. You don’t know what came over Shuri, but when you reached the car, she restrained your wrists, launching another make out session.

This was the best date ever.

#shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri imagine #shuri x woc!reader #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x you

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saintsenara · 27 days

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Potions Master Edition: Slughorn/Snape. Was prodigiously talented Severus a Slug Club favourite, rewriting the textbook in the corner of their get-togethers? Or not, due to him being poorly connected, poorly socialised and well, poor? If not, there’s some delicious resentment baked in there. But Sluggy manages to get Sev to willingly attend a Christmas party! Add a splash of Lily to the cauldron for some extra toxicity.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i don't ever imagine that snape was in the slug club. and partially this is for exactly the reasons you describe - slughorn obviously likes those with pretty faces and pretty manners, which snape doesn't have - but it's also because the teenage snape has no interest whatsoever in playing the game when it comes to how class functions in the wizarding world.

slughorn is evidently keen on taking on passion projects from among the group of hogwarts students who are at a disadvantage in a society which assigns such weight to name and lineage - especially if they're male, since it appears both that the trend in the wizarding world is generally for married women not to work and that it is more acceptable for a man to marry a non-pureblood woman and pass down his name than it is for a woman to marry a non-pureblood man. as we know from half-blood prince, he delights in finding little protegés he can use his connections to set up in ministry internships and then manipulate for the rest of their lives on the basis of their dependence on his patronage.

[i.e. dirk cresswell, muggleborn head of the goblin liaison office.]

we see this at play in canon in slughorn's treatment of tom riddle. but, while the teenage voldemort rejects the jobs slughorn tries to arrange for him, he does play the game while at school, simpering politely through slug club meetings and sending slughorn box after box of [presumably stolen] pineapple.

the teen snape has no such interest in doing this. while the teenage riddle we meet in chamber of secrets and half-blood prince has sanded off many of his rougher edges [the eleven-year-old riddle, for example, is written in a way which suggests he has an accent and uses words and expressions which would be understood as working class; the sixteen-year-old version does not], the snape we meet in snape's worst memory is still visibly working-class in his speech and mannerisms, and i can easily imagine this being a source of pride for him [a sort of "fuck these posh cunts who think they're better than me" vibe] while at school, especially in the way it would impact his relationship with james and sirius.

[and also the way that it would impact his relationship with lily, who does play the game. i think you can do something really interesting with snape thinking that going to the slug club, losing her accent, taking james' pureblood name etc. is her "selling out" - never realising that lily both may want to do these things, but also has to, since they're the only way she's going to survive as a muggleborn in the wizarding world.]

slughorn's going to view him as a lost cause.

but could the adult snape and the adult slughorn get together? maybe.

as you say, snape's going to harbour a huge amount of resentment against slughorn, not only for ignoring his genius when he was at school but also for doing literally nothing to prevent his radicalisation. it is impossible to imagine that people like lucius malfoy, rodolphus and rabastan lestrange, barty crouch jr., evan rosier etc. weren't slughorn's favourites - and, of course, we know regulus black was - and slughorn must have had a very good idea why they were taking an interest in someone like snape, he was just too afraid of voldemort [and of admitting to dumbledore that he'd told voldemort about horcruxes] to do anything about it.

but it's also the case that snape must be aware that slughorn has been brought back to hogwarts during half-blood prince so that he too can be a pawn in dumbledore's schemes. i think you could do something deliciously toxic with snape finding himself drawn to slughorn because of a shared sense that they're both being fucked over by dumbledore - and i think this could lead into some excellent hurt/comfort during the year in which snape's headmaster when slughorn, who must remember snape's affection for lily, begins to suspect that all is not what it seems...

but there's another potential snape/slughorn dynamic i think it's worth discussing, which comes with a trigger warning for the topic of the sexual abuse of a student by a teacher and which is under the cut.

in the films, slughorn is played as avuncular and broadly sexless - with the result that his wheeling and dealing comes across as grasping and a bit pitiable, but generally harmless.

the slughorn of the books, in contrast, is straightforwardly creepy.

he is involved in his students' private lives to an extent we see from no other teacher [his interest in harry's relationship with ginny, for example]. he socialises with students in private in ways which are abnormal within the hogwarts context - it's clearly acceptable for students to be alone in teachers' private offices for detention, but much less so for them to be called in for a glass of wine or to offer their teachers presents... he is happy to let his favourites bend the rules, but also to let them know he's doing so [lestrange and avery have clearly been allowed to be quite late with their essays - and to attend a slug club party while they're still outstanding - before slughorn finally puts his foot down]. the way his habit of "collecting" students - and the life-long influence he then goes on to assert over them - is described makes it sound exceptionally sinister, particularly since the text emphasises that many of his favourite students are also very good-looking. and he is famously willing to receive gifts in exchange for... favours.

and it is very striking that slughorn's two favourite pupils - voldemort and lily - have relationships with slughorn which differ in terms of their power dynamics than, for example, slughorn's relationship with someone like harry.

with harry - as, we can assume, with the children of rich, socially prominent, and politically influential families - slughorn is looking to bask in their reflected glow, and receive social cachet for being connected to them ["i can introduce you to harry potter", "well, of course, i know damocles belby terribly well", and so on].

with pupils who lack this social prominence, he is seeking to mould them into creatures who will do his bidding and rely on him for support [voldemort will be minister for magic in a decade "if you keep sending me pineapple"]. these pupils are made dependent on slughorn for their post-hogwarts position in the wizarding world, they are clearly expected to be grateful to him, and they are clearly expected to do things to butter him up which their posher peers are not.

they also lack the social power to risk rejecting him - i think it's very striking in half-blood prince that harry, ron, and ginny find the idea of hermione trapped in slug club meetings funny, without considering that, as a muggleborn woman, hermione needs the connections someone like slughorn can provide her even if she doesn't enjoy what she has to go through in order to make them. the same would be true for lily - at least until she married - and it would be doubly true for voldemort, who is not only presumed to be muggleborn by most people he encounters, but who lacks any sort of family support in the muggle world too.

[and voldemort refusing slughorn's job offers in his seventh year absolutely tanks their relationship - in a way which the horcrux conversation, which takes place when voldemort's in sixth year, does not. i think this is really worth thinking about both when unravelling why slughorn never becomes a death eater and when thinking about why voldemort is at borgin and burkes for a decade and has no political success until he has divorced himself from his old name and old appearance...]

snape - poor, saddled with his muggle father's name, friendless, under the radar of the rest of his teachers [james and sirius evidently get away with bullying him without any really onerous punishment], uncouth, desperate to be recognised for his talents, and so on - is an ominously plausible target to be groomed and abused by a teacher such as slughorn, who could act with impunity [relatively] safe in the knowledge that their social positions [even before we get into the power dynamic inherent between a student and a teacher] mean that snape would never be able to articulate what was happening to him and be believed...

and i talk a lot about how - when we think about how snape was radicalised into becoming a death eater - we need to recognise that voldemort appears to be the first person he ever encounters who offers him a chance at power and status which transcends the limitations of his class background. this dynamic could be made all the more potent if we imagine that voldemort is also the first person to believe him when he talks about being slughorn's victim...

and to promise him that he will offer him a chance for revenge.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #horace slughorn #severus snape #this is obviously an #unhinged and deranged ships #if we're thinking about it as consensual #that slughorn should be in prison is just straight fact

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f1-birb · 6 months

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you're welcome! :) fernando is known for taking and interest in and tracking the careers of all the drivers who won in fa kart, he did the same with oscar. obviously now he has his academy and manages some of those drivers too so he plays more of an active role than he used to. you may know this already too but couple of fun facts about lando - when he did his first test drive in 2017, the one he won with the 2016 brdc award and led to him being made a mclaren jr and starting the internship at the mtc, nando was there and lando posted times within 2 tenths of nando's time at just turned 17! also when lando did his first ever fp1 in 2018 at spa he crucified poor stoffel in the times from his first few laps. that fp1 was mclaren's final test for him to confirm the 2019 seat and he was announced v soon after. never been confirmed but rumour back in 2018 was that when rb were chasing lando for the toro rosso seat earlier in the summer it was fernando who pushed zak and boullier to take lando seriously as a prospect to go straight into the team in 2019. their original plan was apparently for him to do 2 years in f2 before promoting him but fernando's persuasion was rumoured to have made them think about promoting him earlier and then that fp1 sealed it.

I'm claiming you as the Lando-Nando Lore Anon

I knew with his academy he was pretty active in keeping an eye on talents and that he manages some of them, and I knew Oscar was an FA Kart kid like Lando, but I wasn't aware of how much he'd been doing the observing/borderline scouting before he had his academy

I hope everyone else likes the fun facts, because Lando being within 2 tenths of Nando's times is one of my favourites

I do feel bad for Stoff a little because Lando really did say "get fucked mate" 🥲 but equally it got my boy his seat and I can't be mad about that one bit

see that is a rumour I did not know! the Lando/RB one that I believe was confirmed (but I could be wrong!) was when Marko asked Lando if he knew how much an FRen car weighed and when Lando said he didn't his response was to say that Max would, and that was a sign Lando took to effectively mean "if you're not Max RB won't care" and it's played a part of why he's turned them down since, but I actually would love it the "Fernando pushed for Lando" one does have truth to it (if not just fully the truth)

#lando norris #fernando alonso #even more important lore #lando-nando lore anon #birb speaks

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panqueen · 3 months

Text

The Other Mayfield

Part 1: The Aftermath

Steve Harrington x Fem Mayfield Reader x Eddie Munson

☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽

The Aftermath of the Vecna fight was difficult for everyone and has changed everything but slowly it's getting back to somewhat normal.

Max almost died and was in the hospital in a coma for weeks until she suddenly woke up one day with the help of El who has barely left her side.

Eddie was badly injured but Dustin got him out of the Upside Down and into a hospital once the fight was over.

After a few weeks he was almost back to normal with the scars still left behind and the nightmares still lingering.

The murders the town originally thought was his doing were cleared due to Hopper doing something but the group isn't sure exactly what he did. Eddie got his own place with Gareth as a roommate and live in a trailer with three bedrooms.

Hopper returned but some things had changed like he no longer drank a lot and he has lost lots of weight due to being a prisoner to the Russians in Kamchatka where he was fed maggots and moldy bread.

El got her powers back and had helped with Max's recovery and had been stuck to Max's side since she's woken up.

The Byers moved back with El and are now living in a new place while El and Hopper are back in the cabin after the group all helped to fix it back up to its old shape.

For the older teens:

Robin has been having more conversations with Vickie and is now in an almost relationship with her and is convinced she’s hopelessly in love.

She still works at Family Video with Steve and Y/n where she rambles on about her conversations with Vickie.

Jonathan and Nancy are stronger than ever and have decided to not put so much pressure on going to the same college because Jonathan was offered a photography internship at a large magazine company near where Nancy wants to attend college.

86 was Eddie's year, he finally graduated after long hours of studying with Y/n.

He started playing his guitar again and Corroded Coffin is becoming more popular with The Hideout being packed instead of the same three drunks and having meetings with talent scouts. Using the cut of money the band has gotten he got a new place with Gareth. Even though he's not in high school anymore he still plays D&D with Hellfire when he's not working at the mechanic shop or practicing with the band. He stills keeps in contact with Wayne who moved into a two bedroom house across town where he lives with his new girlfriend Debby who loves the kids and especially Y/n.

Steve has continued to work at Family Video and has decided that he wants to continue working instead of going to college. He's still the babysitter or the mom of the group. After saving for years he had enough to move out into his own apartment which he did where he now shares a place with Robin. With the help of Robin and Dustin he finally realized that he shouldn't try to date anymore because the only girl he wants to be with is once of his closest friends who is currently in a relationship.

Argyle moved just outside of Hawkins into a shitty but livable apartment. He got a management position with Surfer Boy Pizza where a location was built in Hawkins. And since he's been living in Hawkins, he's continued to hangout with Jonathan and has gotten close with the other older teens especially Y/n and Eddie when the four of them get high together.

Y/n is still living in the shitty run down trailer park with her mom who is barely around and when she is she's passed out drunk on the couch but it isn't all bad because she still has Max who is still a bit closed off but is starting to open up more.

After her stepbrother Billy died and Neil left her mom, Susan hasn't been the same and has taken up drinking which is now turning into a huge mess and because of this Max usually goes to stay at El's house and Y/n goes to stay with Robin and Steve, Argyle or Eddie. She's still in a relationship with her boyfriend Noah of almost a year even if her friends aren't his biggest fans.

☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽

Word Count: 700

Wattpad: Graywrites06_

Hope you enjoyed the first part, this part was just to set the scene for the story thats about to unfold.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #yn #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #multi part fic #theothermayfield #Graywrites06_#angst with a happy ending

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thriller-roads · 1 year

Text

Shoplifting Leads to Romance

Rohan Kishibe x artist!reader

Fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: Rohan has trouble making sense of how he feels about you, and ends up upsetting you in the process. Don't worry though, he's trying his best. Basically Rohan makes you sad then realizes he was an asshole.

It’s true that Rohan Kishibe is a skilled manga artist. His artistic prowess is something he’s gifted with and has honed to near perfection. Something he’s not so great with though, is people.

As an artist yourself, you've always admired Rohan’s talent. His work was an inspiration to you, so how amazing was it that you were now acquainted with him, and also receiving an internship?

After approaching the eccentric man, he agreed to take you in as an intern. He only did so because you helped him out when he was accused of shoplifting at the Kame-Yu department store that one time. Since you worked there, you saw who the real culprit was, and vouched for Rohan’s innocence on the matter.

Rohan appreciated the fact that you gave him his space and didn’t demand anything of him, even after recognizing who he was. He also appreciated the compliments you gave him on his work. The level of detail you went into intrigued him, such as noting the improvement of his art style over the years, or the technique he uses to study a spider's anatomy.

The two of you soon became more than mere acquaintances, with you coming over often to admire his process. Rohan actually enjoyed the time you spent for a while, until it began to gnaw at his mind. Lately, he found himself getting too distracted by you. He was thinking too much about you, even when you were gone. He found the whole thing to be rather infuriating.

Rohan surveyed you from across the desk, eyes intent on watching you sketch. He should be looking down at your paper, but instead he found himself unable to look away from your face.

You momentarily glanced up at him, and that alone was enough to drive him insane. He quickly tried to cover up the fact he had been staring at you. "Quit looking at me and focus on the paper," he scolded, as if he hadn’t been doing the exact same thing. As long as you were unaware of that though, it didn’t matter.

Returning your eyes to the paper, you continued the sketch without a word. Rohan on the other hand, couldn’t seem to shut up. "Now Y/n, you must be quicker with the sketch. Don't spend too much time on it. You still haven't managed to cut down the sketch time since the last attempt, don’t forget that."

"Sorry Rohan sensei, I'm really trying to-"

"Well you're not trying hard enough!" He suddenly snapped. The pencil in your hand slowly came to a stop. Looking down at the figure on the paper, you realized you were pressing down so hard with the tip of your pencil that it had made a small perforation on the eye of the drawing.

You lifted the pencil to brush off bits of eraser. "Hey, my wrist is starting to hurt a bit. Maybe we should take a break, and I could just watch you for now?" You suggested, and awaited his response.

You, watch him? With you watching him, he'd fumble over his pen. He would make a mistake somewhere from being too distracted by your presence, he knew it. He could feel the heat on his cheeks begin to radiate just at the thought of it. Knowing your eyes would be on him, his mind would wander off to nothing but the thought of what your lips might feel like against his. No, this simply could not continue. He couldn’t allow himself to further slip into this predicament.

“No, that isn’t what you’re here to do right now. Now take your pencil and paper back up, and start again,” Rohan ordered, resetting the timer on his desk.

You rubbed at your wrist, trying your best to brush off any soreness in your arm. The grooves of the pencil were practically engraved into your palm by now as you started up again when Rohan exclaimed, “Begin!”

You went as fast as you could to get the basic shapes down, and then the details. It was coming along well enough, and you thought maybe this time you’d actually get to-

The sound of a timer went off, and Rohan slammed his hand down onto the table. “Time’s up! Did you finish?”

You scrambled to keep the papers from falling. “No, I-”

“Then I don’t wanna see it!” With that, Rohan reached over to take the sheet of paper from your grasp, ripping it to shreds. That wasn't something you expected, so you weren’t sure how to react as the pieces of paper sailed down to the surface of the desk. You knew he could be intense, but was this really necessary?

Rohan crossed his arms. “Y/n, you are here to improve your art skills. You're nothing but an amateur, and at this rate you'll never be on my level if you keep slacking off. If you’re just going to waste my time, I suggest you take your things and leave.”

Hearing this out of nowhere confused you even more. If ripping your paper wasn’t enough, his words made your guts drop to the floor. Were you really doing that badly? Perhaps Rohan just wanted to be left alone. You thought he had been enjoying the time you spent together, but you were beginning to doubt that now. Then again, he never asked for you to come by. It was you that insisted, thinking he'd be fine with it. Turns out that wasn't that case.

You stood from your seat, grabbing your bag as well. Your throat suddenly felt dry, but you still managed to say something. "Okay then. Goodbye for now, Rohan Kishibe." You didn't even mean for the words to come out so cold and bitter, but they did. Rohan noticed this too, and he didn't know how to feel about it as he watched you walk out the door.

Well, it had to be for the better that you left, right? No use in staying if you weren’t cut out for it.

Looking down at the scraps of torn paper, Rohan thought perhaps he went a bit overboard. Gathering each piece, he assorted them together like a puzzle. Once each piece was in the right place, he didn’t expect to see his own face looking back at him. Well, it wasn’t completely realistic nor intact, but it was very much meant to be him. Was this why you kept looking at him, for artistic reference?

Rohan rested a hand against his chin as his eyes traveled across the image. “Hmm, this is actually quite good…” Observing the drawing, the guilt hit him like a big freight train. If that Tamami fellow was around, he’s sure that lock stand of his would be very effective on him right about now.

Well, it doesn't matter now. The important thing is that Rohan could finally resume his work, unbothered at last. Placing his pen down on the paper, he began his usual process. As the drawing progressed however, he noticed the image on the paper was starting to look a lot like you. He brushed the thought aside. No, it just happened to look like you. He continued to rapidly scribble across the paper, and when he was finally finished, the results horrified him.

Who was he kidding, it was you. Down to nearly every last detail, it was you. Any mole on your skin, any curve of your face, any direction of the way your hair swept, it was all you. Well, there was absolutely no denying it now. Rohan had fallen madly in love with you. “Great, just what I need…” he grumbled out.

Groaning in frustration, he set his pen down and turned back to your torn up drawing. He needed a break. He gathered the pieces of paper into a neat pile before leaving the room.

After that day, he didn’t see you for a while. He called you a few times, but you didn't answer. It had only been a couple of days, but still. He never even managed to catch sight of you around Morioh by chance. Despite that, he’s sure he’d get to see you today; for today you have a shift at Kame-Yu department store.

Walking into the vast space, he navigated the aisles until he caught sight of you. There you were, stocking items onto the shelves. Rohan clutched his bag and took a deep breath before approaching you. “Hello, Y/n. It’s uh, been a while.” He internally cursed himself for being so nervous in front of you.

The sound of his voice startled you a bit. You weren’t expecting Rohan to be here. Regardless of his presence, you resumed to pile items onto the shelves. “Hello Rohan. Yes, it has been a while,” was all you said. There was no warm smile like you usually gave him whenever you greeted him, nor a nod of recognition. Heck, you barely even looked at him, much to Rohan’s despair.

The main reason you were so upset over it was because Rohan’s opinion meant so much to you. You wanted his validation, his approval. Getting the exact opposite wasn’t exactly the motivation you were looking for. If anything, it made you want to take a break from art altogether. You knew it was stupid to care so much about what he thinks, but that’s romance for you. Utterly stupid.

Seeing as you made no further attempt to interact with him, Rohan struggled with what he should say next. “So…how’s that painting coming along?”

You knew the painting he spoke of. You had shown it to him about a week ago, before the last time you spoke. That same painting remained untouched on its easel, with not a single stroke of paint added onto it since then. “I haven’t really worked on it,” you responded, your attention still not fully on him.

“Why not?” Rohan knew why, but still asked nonetheless.

“I guess I kinda lost my motivation.” At last, you turned to properly face him. This actually made it all the worse for Rohan, because your dull expression pained him. “I am just an amateur who’ll never be on your level after all.”

The words he spoke to you days before flooded over him like a tsunami. He was a prisoner to his guilt, and he needed you to set him free. In order to gain this freedom though, he’d have to do something he rarely ever did.

“Y/n, I think some apologies are in order. My actions and what I said the other day...It was too harsh. I honestly do think you’re a talented artist. I just said all that because I wanted you to leave. You weren’t the one getting distracted, I was. All because you couldn’t leave my mind…and I just wanted that irritating feeling to go away!” he spoke the last bit in a frustrating tone.

Your unmoving face told him you were confused, so he elaborated. “But now I see that what I was feeling was attraction, and I should just accept it rather than push it away even if it bugs me.”

Although his explanation helped a bit, you were still unsure of what he was getting at. “What?” You questioned stupidly.

“Damnit Y/n, I like you!” He finally admitted, and it was then he took note of just how fast his heart was racing. If this was love, he detested the feeling. Why did it have to be so damn nerve-wracking? Rohan tried his best to disregard all of this. The only thing that mattered now was your response.

“Oh. Really? Well…I like you too,” your voice snapped him out of his worry.

Rohan was in a state of disbelief at first. “You do? Well, of course you do!” Rohan played off his relief with a shaky laugh and smirk. His smirk soon faded though, remembering he still had something to be sorry for. “And again, I apologize for my behavior. Your drawing, I truly am flattered by it. You have commendable talent. It’s very good.”

“Was very good,” you corrected, crossing your arms to emphasize you were still upset, regardless of the feelings you admitted for each other. At this, Rohan shuffled around in his bag, pulling something out and holding it up for you to see. You were a bit surprised to see it was the drawing you thought was ruined. It looked as good as new, no tape or glue anywhere in sight.

“But how…Is that really the one I made?” you asked, reaching out to take it from him.

“Yes, it is. I asked that punk Josuke to fix it with his stand.” Rohan very much disliked dealing with that boy, but he did it for you. He had to. “I hope you do forgive me, Y/n.”

You gave him a small smile in return. “I’m glad you apologized. I thought maybe I was just being too sensitive about the issue...” You mentally scolded yourself for not handling Rohan’s criticism well that day. The man was just doing his job after all, and you should’ve known what you’d be getting into when seeking his guidance.

Rohan looked away in shame upon recalling his behavior that day. He then walked over closer to you, clearing his throat. “No, you had every right to be upset. Even if it was criticism, there are better ways I could’ve handled it. So don’t go thinking you had any fault in the matter, understood?" He narrowed his eyes down at you.

"Yeah," you smiled, now relieved. His emerald eyes made you weak for a moment, but you felt more at ease now that everything was out and dealt with in the open.

In a similar way, Rohan felt his eyes soften when you looked at him the way you did. He wanted to experience more of that.

"If you’d like to come by my studio after your shift today, I’d gladly welcome you," he offered.

“Well then I gladly accept your invitation.” With that, you grabbed ahold of his collar to pull him down for a kiss. Rohan barely had any time to process it. All he knew was that he felt you put an arm around his waist, and that he finally got to know what your lips felt like against his. It was you who opened the door to this heavenly feeling, and it was wonderful.

Pulling away, you couldn’t stop grinning at the dumbstruck expression on the manga artist’s face. You felt like getting a pencil and paper out right then and there to capture the moment forever. Scratch that, pencil wouldn’t be enough, you’d need rouge watercolor to capture the color on his cheeks. Even when Rohan tried to compose himself and clear his throat, the heat on his face didn’t go away.

Rolling up the sheet of paper in your hand, you lightly hit Rohan on the head with it. “You can keep this at your place for now. I can’t exactly take it with me right now during work hours. But careful, don’t rip it again, or I’ll be sure to rip out your vital organs in return,” you joked. The fact that you threatened him with the sweetest smile made it all the more intimidating.

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem," Rohan said with a nervous laugh. "Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you later. Until then, Y/n.” He quickly walked away, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle before resuming your work.

As he exited the store, Rohan felt like screaming out to the heavens. Once he was far enough away from people, he let out an almost maniacal laugh as he slumped against a wall. Wow, that really happened! He thought he'd only ever get to kiss you in his fantasies, or if he commanded you to do so with Heaven’s Door. But it did happen, and he was looking forward to doing it again and again.

After his little fit of giddy laughter, Rohan noticed a small box falling out of his bag. Picking it up, he realized it was a box of tea assortments, one of his favorites in fact. Where did that come from? The price tag on it told him it was from the department store. He didn’t even pay for it though, so how did-

Oh. Rohan recalled that you were stocking tea boxes onto the shelves. You must’ve sneaked a box into his bag when you were kissing him. The irony of it all made him smile. The great Rohan Kishibe would be wrongfully accused of shoplifting, yet again. One thing he did steal from that place though, was your heart.

Realizing how cheesy that line was, Rohan nearly threw up on his way home.

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