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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 4 months ago

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COOL FOR THE SUMMER- L. HOWLETT

pairing: older! dads best friend! logan x fem! reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: your dad urges you to come back home for the week he has all his college buddies back, and eagerly you agree because it means you get to see your crush, and your fathers best friend- logan howlett. little does anyone know your goal: to get logan to fall for you as hard as you've fallen for him

warnings: FINGERINGGG!, squirting, heavy praise kink, heavy size kink, innocence kink, daddy kink, manhandling, pet names, age gap (reader is 27, logan is mid/ late 40s), teasing, swearing, drugs and alcohol used, mentions of voyeurism

"i just wanna play with you too/ even if they judge, fuck it, i'll do the time, i just wanna have some fun with you/ got my mind on your body and your body on my mind/ got a taste for the cherry, i just need to take a bite/ don't tell your father, kiss one another-die for each other/ we're cool for the summer"- cool for the summer, demi lovato

It had been years since you had seen Logan Howlett.

And yet, when his eyes met yours- it was like he had never left.

The same gooey, sticky and sappy honey like feeling churned in your stomach when you saw him, making you feel all warm and giddy. You felt like ice cream melting under his heated gaze, just like the soft serve that was dripping down your fingers as you eyed him up from under your little heart shaped sunglasses.

It was hot today, the July heat showing you no mercy.

It had taken countless hours of whining, practically begging someone in the house to go with you to get ice cream.

It was fully packed this week, your dad doing his annual hosting with all his old college buddies- where they’d all drink beer and smoke by the firepit at night, and shoot darts during the day.

He had invited you home for the week too, to hang out with your mom and “keep her company” (whatever that meant), and she had left you for her bed and a bottle of wine.

You didn't blame her.

But it was 3pm, it was so hot you had your head in the freezer.

There was no ice cream to be found, even when you had pleaded with your dad for the keys to the car- and he had insisted there was some already at home.

What a little liar.

After countless pleads and begs, you had finally gotten his closest friend's attention- Logan.

You had always had a schoolgirl-like crush on the older man, it was deemed impossible not to. Everything about him was just so… manly.

Primal and hard edges, with a quick tongue and little tolerance for whining.

But somehow, you managed to play him like a fiddle. He caved, grumbling something about your brat like attitude, practically picking you up by your flimsy skirt and dragging you to his truck.

Now you were here, in the passenger side, sensually licking the dripping vanilla soft serve that trickled down the cone onto your fingers- eyes refusing to leave his body.

You perched your bare feet up on the dashboard, displaying your pink painted toenails skirt hiking up even higher on your thighs.

His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles flexing as he stared at the road ahead, watching the pine air freshener swing side to side dangling from his mirror.

You knew he wanted you too. But he was too stern to cave into his urges, and you were determined this week to make him snap.

It had been years of this back and forth teasing, little touches and snide comments made whenever you came home to visit and he was around.

You weren't home very often, but when you knew he would show…

“You finally shut up now kid? Stop your whining n’ all that?” he grumbled and you giggled, hand slipping over to fiddle with loose change in his cup holders.

“Yeahhhh… thanks Lo. I really appreciate it. It’s just so hot ya know and I needed to keep my mouth occupied. S’boring.” you teased, licking your lips before taking another large lick of ice cream, savouring the cool, sweet treat on your tongue.

His apples adam bobbed, knuckles practically turning white.

He whipped into your driveway, nearly ramming into the dozens of other vehicles parked along the gravel, slamming on the breaks. It was enough to make you let out a little “oof” as he parked, turning the key in the ignition.

“You’re a spoiled princess. You know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, unbuckling your seatbelt to lean in closer to him, so close you could smell his cigars and sweat.

“Well I’m only home for so long, you know. And besides, I think you like that.”

His eyebrows furrowed, lines of annoyance creased across his forehead as he shook his head- as if he was trying to break free of some sort of trance.

You looked down, noticing a tent in his pants, and couldn't help but smirk before licking your ice cream again.

“Don't start with me kid. It won't end well for ya.” he warned, sticking a finger out to scold you, as if you were nothing more than a stupid child.

Slamming the truck door behind him, you watched from your seat as he stormed off into the house, and bolted to the nearest bathroom in the entry hall.

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

The first attempt got you somewhere with him.

He got all hot and bothered, refusing to even be in your proximity for the next few hours. It was later in the day, and yet the heat hadn't dwindled.

It was sticky and you were sweaty, groaning into your pillows as you fanned yourself. It was unbearable. The windows cracked open didnt help, and your dad rarely put the AC on.

But you had the perfect idea to break the dry spell.

You smiled mischievously, scampering over to your open window. You had the perfect view of the backyard, where your dad and his friends were lounging around outside, on the porch near the pool.

And there was Logan, with the perfect view of your window- and he was the only one turned towards you, as he cooked something on the grill, a cigar in his mouth- off in his own little world.

Bingo.

Your eyes zoomed in on your target, and as if he felt your gaze, his own flickered up to your window, gaze clashing with yours.

You licked your lips, slowly taking your (already sorta revealing) top off, leaving nothing to the imagination.

His eyes darkened, zoning in on you as if you were his prey, taking a long, sharp inhale of the cigar. He couldn't look away.

You let your hands trace your hardened nipples before fishing out a skimpy bikini from your dresser, tying it up in front of the exposed glass.

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed as he flipped the food over to keep from burning, trying his best to appear focused on your dads conversation he would oddly be brought into some of the time.

Next was your shorts, then you tugged up the bottoms. Sending him a flirtatious little wave, you trotted down the stairs, snagging a clean, dry towel on your way to the pool.

You were desperate to get cool in the water- and to mainly- get Logan pent up again. It brought you such immense joy knowing his braided rope was uncurling, the pieces becoming thinner and weaker with each innocent smile and remark you sent his way.

Of course, no one else thought anything of it.

You were your dads good girl, charming and sweet and helpful.

But Logan knew. He always knew. He could sniff you out like a hound.

So when you walked out in your tiny little bathing suit, swinging your hips as you walked by him with not much more than a little glance, you knew he was about to lose his shit.

His fingers curled, tightening on the flipper as he looked over and noticed Bucky Barnes eying you up behind your fathers back, as if you were fresh meat.

Something like a growl escaped his lips, unknownst to you as you had already made your way over to the deep end, and dived in. A shirek left your lips as you splashed around in the cool water, basking in the sun as it started to slowly set behind the trees.

You looked over at Logan as he resumed his grilling, taking a slow sip of his beer, watching you as you treading over to the edge, resting your arms on the stone side, looking over at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Lo, could you pass me a beer?” you asked sweetly and he scoffed.

“No way kid.”

“Logan I’m twenty seven, I’m a big girl. Hand one over.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, ignoring your protests.

“Come get one yourself then princess.” he growled through clenched teeth, cigar close to sputtering out.

“That's too much work.”

“Well? You want one?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes right back at him. “Fine. Be like that.”

You paid him no mind as you swam over to the other side of the pool, perched over to give Bucky that same sweet, sickly look that drove him head over heels.

He had a nice view of your ass though, from this angle. He couldn't complain about that, even if you were talking to a man who wasn't him.

“Mr. Barnes? Could you pass me a beer please?” you asked gently, and it wasn't even two seconds later before he was rushing over to hand you one.

“Course sweetheart. Just dont spill in the pool, or your dad will have my head.” You giggled, turning your head over your shoulder to give Logan a wink.

“Thank you Mr. Barnes.”

“Honey, Bucky is just fine. None of that formal shit okay?”

You nodded obediently, coaxing out a Yes Bucky before taking a long swig of the amber liquid.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, trying to re- engage with the conversation, his eyes darting constantly to stare at your figure as you floated, taking small sips of the liquid.

They were then met with Logan's heavy gaze, pupils so blown out and black he was lucky the BBQ wasn't thrown at his head at this very moment.

------------------------------------------------ You nodded your head along with the old dad rock as you took a puff of your joint, letting the warm, fuzzy feelings cloud your judgements as you sunk deeper into the lawn chair, watching the flames from the bonfire grow higher as your father tended to it.

You knew he wasn't pleased with you smoking- but what the hell was he going to do about it? You were an adult. It's not like he could tell you you weren't allowed, anyways.

You felt Logans gaze from across the fire, the flames licking his pupils as he stared you down, while you were blissfully in your own world.

Your little sundress had his eyes wandering places they shouldn't have, and it didn't help that when the sun went down, the slight chill had found its home on your breasts, hardened nipples poking out of the soft fabric.

The more hits you took, the looser you felt, and before you knew it- you were dancing and spinning around to

“I Was Made for Lovin You” by Kiss after you had begged them to put it on- joint dangling out of your mouth.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle as you spun and clapped each time the drums hit- giggling to yourself as you watched him carelessly.

“Does anyone want another drink? I’m gonna go n get one.” you slurred slightly, resting your hands on the back of Bucky's chair as you tallied the requests.

Time was blurring back and forth, so whoever hadn’t requested one was getting one anyways. You stared off into the distance with a dazed look on your face, coming back to reality when Bucky had turned, placing his hand on yours.

“Hon? You all good?”

“On clouds. I’ll be back. Bye!” you waved, giggling uncontrollably as you skipped back to the house.

You weren't expecting company, not hearing Logans muttering about going with you to keep you out of trouble to the group, eliciting chuckles from his friends.

Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes as he jogged to catch up to you, slipping into the kitchen right after you. You were giggling to yourself about god knows what as he entered, your red, heavy eyes sliding up to meet him from where he stood.

You were bent over the counter, rocking your feet up and down, swaying yourself- no intention of grabbing any beer.

“Hi Lo.”

His eyebrows raised with amusement.

“Whatcha doin here?”

“Keeping you out of trouble. Someones a lightweight, if I’ve ever seen one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Am not.”

“Don't deny it. It's cute.” He bit his lip as he looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the swish of the flowy fabric against your soft, plush thighs, and your breasts that were taunting him.

“M’supposed to get beers. But I don't know who for.” you sighed, turning around to face him.

You were so innocent, so adorable it made his heart shatter into a million itty bitty pieces, and his dick hard as a rock.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm. I think Steve wanted one.” you nodded to yourself, feet padding on the hardwood as you walked over to a cupboard, opening in and frowning in confusion.

“Kay I don't see any beers.”

Logan couldn't help but laugh, walking up behind you to place his large hands on your hips, guiding you over to the fridge.

“Don't laugh at me!”

“M’not laughing honey. Just giving my princess some help, yeah?” The word my slipped out faster then he could catch it, and he was thankful you didn't.

He’d never hear the end of it.

You opened the fridge and let out a squeal as he picked you up with ease, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, letting you scout out the whole fridge- grabbing the cold beers on the top shelf.

“Steve, n Bucky, n Logan… who else?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around the bottles to try and carry them all.

“That's all honey. Good job.” he cooed, placing you back down on the ground, shutting the fridge doors behind you as you set the bottles down on the counter, before perching yourself up onto the granite.

You swung your legs, parting them slightly as you watched Logan watch you.

Intensely.

You bit your lip, feeling your panties dampen even more than they already were- which was saying a lot.

You had rubbed and squeezed your thighs together so much because of the older man in front of you, and you weren't even ashamed. Anyone would, in your position.

“What are you thinking about Lo?” you asked, nickname rolling sweetly off the tongue.

You were the only one who called him that. You were the only one who was allowed to call him that.

“Nothin you need to worry your sweet lil head about honey.”

You bit your lip, batting your eyelashes up at him as he dared to inch even closer. The gap was slowly closing between you two.

You smiled softly, spreading your legs, your dress draped over your thighs so he had a clear view of the wet patch on your lacey pink panties.

He audibly growled, clenching his knuckles at his sides so hard they turned bright white as he let out a breath.

“I’ve been really wet for you all day Lo. And I really need your help.”

He took a deep breath. Shut his eyes. He could not do this.

It broke every rule in the moral code book. Seeing and thinking of his best friends daughter like this- what the fuck was he thinking?

But he was in too deep now. He didn't think he could part from you, from that little wet patch.

He could smell you. Practically hear your little clit throbbing.

“You always need my help. Don't think you could do anything yourself- even if you tried princess.”

You cocked your head innocently, slipping your fingers down to your inner thighs.

“I did do things by myself- all by myself. I touched myself to the thought of you filling me up and keeping me full of your cum n…” you broke off, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And I just couldn't do it as well as you could Lo. You’re so big n strong, and your hands are so much bigger than mine, I’m sure they’d feel amazing.”

“Fuck. FUCK baby you cant-” he panted, slamming his fist down on the countertop.

You didn't even flinch.

“You can't say that shit. I can't- fuck- your my best friends daughter for fucks sake. Fuck.” he swore, and yet he was even closer to you.

Filling the gap between your parted legs, breath mingling with yours.

“And you’re high and just-”

“M’not super high. Just really fuzzy.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure. It's so wrong baby, but fuck I can't stop thinking about you. About this tight lil body I could just use and fuck the shit out of.” he groaned, head falling as he took another deep breath, restraining himself.

His words made your clit pulse even harder, and you were desperate for release.

“It's okay Lo. I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise.” your fingers reached out to fiddle with his dog tags as he lifted his head, hungry eyes staring at your lips.

He licked his own.

“I’m just- jus hurts really bad and I need some help. Please. Please, please I’ll be so good, not a word. Just a little touch, anything- please Lo.” you begged, puppy dog eyes staring up at him.

And how could he deny you? You just begged so pretty, your bright little eyes wide and hazy with admiration as you looked at him, making him feel like the most handsome, wanted man in the world.

He was caving, and caving until he caved.

His lips crashed down onto yours, full of want and need, the sweetness of your lipgloss giving him the balance he needed to fuel his fire.

His hands harshly gripped your inner thighs, holding them open as you whined and moaned into his mouth, trying to wiggle from overstimulation. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, gloss smeared as he peppered kisses down your neck, digging his fingers even deeper into your flesh, hard enough to mark.

“Lo-”

“Yeah, you need my help baby? You gonna let daddy take care of you now? Such a big girl, tryin do everything on her own- but she just needs daddy to do everything for her, doesn't she?”

You nodded dumbly, going into a trance like state as he cooed down at you mockingly.

“Fuckin driving you around all day, watching you in that skimpy lil bikini… now you just want some touches to your pretty lil princess parts, don't you baby? You're such a greedy girl.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling his large fingers trace your inner thighs, teasing you as he inched closer to your cunt.

A moan escaped you, your head lolling back against the cupboard as the pad of his thumb brushed the wet patch on your undies.

“Please, please daddy I’ll be so good. Jus please.”

“Awh baby, you sound so pretty when you beg. You're such a fast learner, aren't you? Such a bright girl, but youre going all dumb now hmm? Gonna let daddy touch you all nice n sweet?”

You nodded frantically as he pressed his thumb down on your clenching hole, the fabric getting sucked in as he pressed.

Finally he pushed your thong to the side, air hissing through his clenched teeth as he saw just how wet you were for him.

You were practically dripping right on the counter. Your juices glistened in the pale kitchen light, and you gripped his wrist as his finger brushed through your folds before entering you, curling inside.

“Feel so good-”

He chuckled darkly, watching your little reactions as he worked his finger before adding another one, stretching you out.

Fuck you were tight.

He wondered how you'd fit his cock. He watched every little move, when you gripped his wrist harder, when your little pants and moans slipped out of your pretty parted lips.

“S’big.”

“Sweet girl, am I touching all those parts you couldn't reach yourself? Feels good?”

“S’good.” You were already cockdrunk and he hadn't even put his cock in you yet. Drool was practically pooling out the sides of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in your head as his coos and praises.

“Don't have very long angel, the guys are gonna wonder where we’ve been.”

You nodded, gasping as his thumb came up to rub gentle circles on your clit, making you quiver and shake.

“And we don't want that, now do we? Daddys friends all seeing you perched up on the counter for me, spreading your legs like the sweet lil girl you are.”

The idea of you guys getting caught somehow brought you even closer to your release, as his fingers quickend their pace. The wet sounds of squechling brought heta to your cheeks, and fuck he loved it.

He loved how flustered you got, under his thumb- how you completely gave yourself over to him, so he could take care of you.

“Daddy I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead baby. I’m right here, I gotcha sweet thing.” he cooed, and that was it for you.

You weren't sure if it was the weed or simply Logan Howlett finally appearing where you wanted him most, between your legs- but your release came hard and fast, knocking the wind out of you as your juices squirted all over his hairy arm, some drips landing on his white tank top.

His eyes widened in surprise, a moan leaving his lips at the sight of you, making a mess all over his fingers.

He was aching in his pants, cock leaking with precum- but he knew he couldnt fuck you now. Not now, not here, and not when you were this dazed.

Instead, he planted a kiss and a praise to your forehead, grabbing a rag to clean you up with, leading you upstairs to your room. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, body still shaking slightly in your sleep.

He smiled to himself softly, enjoying this quiet moment of peace as he watched you- so vulnerable and at peace yourself in your bed. Draping a blanket over you, he kissed your forehead again, not once but twice as a promise, brushing the strand of hair that fell over your face back behind your ear.

Knowing the boys would be wondering where the hell he had been, where you had been- he rushed to the bathroom, relieving himself as quick as possible before grabbing the beers and rushing back outside, lying outright through his teeth.

But for you, it was worth it.

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beomqu · 10 months ago

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Front Row - (smau)

guitarist! mark x fem! reader

💿summary: it is a habit of y/n to attend ENCT's festival every year and this year isn't any different. while enjoying the festival and waiting for her friend's favourite artist to perform they stand in front row of a band they have never seen before.

🎞genre: college au!, fluff, suggestive jokes, angst????, slowburn, everything stands in y/n's way to bag fine shyt

🔄status: on-going

💌notes: ahhhh my first smau everrr!!! im honestly very scared i might not be consistent😭 but if the feedback is positive i'll probably try harder! sorry for any mistakes ahead. also im not an iphone user so if its not 'aesthetic' enough sorryyyy

Slower updates after september bc of SCHOOL (boo)❌

🗒taglist: open!

started: july 12, 2024

ended: tba!

MASTERLIST

y/n's friendgroup mark's friendgroup

1. RYUJIN?!

2. jaemin's stalking skills

3. now we wait...

4. (Don't) let me cook

5. Cat sisters (written)

6. Jonas brothers

7. Thirst trap

8. Supporting a small business

9. Open practice #2 part 1

10. Open practice #2 part 2 (written)

11. Performance secured

12. Roblox buddies

13. Wait... I'm literally goated

14. ons

15. 🏀❌

16. A DATE????

17. discord (😸)

18. FUCK mark lee

19. lame ash

20. not a date

21. drunken night

22. we're NOT fucking

23. $100 is worth the pain

24. L word

25. everyone is homosexual

26. Jaemin's ip adress is 192.158.1.38

27. HE WANTS to get to know ME

28. mark lee getting passed around (not fake)

29. free ice cream free head

30. date w fine shyt (y/n compeletely partially fucks up once again) (written)

31. mark lee look alike contest (gone wrong)

32. no more secret

33. b-b-b-BLOCKED

34.

35.

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chimcess · 3 months ago

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— The Comback: the masterlist

"Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player."

Status: Ongoing

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

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always-just-red · 9 months ago

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Masterlist✨

Last Updated: 27/03/25 | All works are my own and belong to me!

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

🎨 Rafayel

Practice Makes Perfect (2.3k) Fluff + humour. "I'll teach you how to swim!" he said. "It'll be fun!" he said. Let's be honest: the warning signs were there from the very start.

Perspective (2k) Fluff. You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Fourth Wall (Raf Ver.) (2.4k) Angst. You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

🩸 Sylus

Be Mine (4k) Angst, fluff + comfort. Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Monster (800 words) Angst. A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

A Gentle Touch (3.2k) Angst + fluff. You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.

Something Sweet (2.1k) Fluff. Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky…

To Remain Silent (2.7k) Angst + comfort. Sylus has told you to arrest him one too many times…

Unspoken (2k) Angst. You could fix all of this if Sylus would just resonate with you. Why won't he resonate with you?

Fourth Wall (1.5k) Player x character. L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Technical Difficulties (2.4k) Fluff + comfort. You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Wrong Number (2k) Fluff + humour. You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way…

❄ Zayne:

Doctor's Orders (2k) Fluff. Zayne has suggested you skip work today, which isn't suspicious at all...

Reserved (1.2k) Angst + comfort. You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Professionalism (1.7k) Suggestive. You love a man in uniform! Or... well, scrubs or whatever.

✨ Poly Series:

Game Night (4k) Humour + fluff. The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

The Night Before Christmas (4.8k) Humour + fluff. It’s time to get the gang back together!!!

Breaking Point (4.5k) Humour + fluff. Laser tag with the guys tehe

✨ Headcanons:

Putting On A Brave Face (4k) Comfort + fluff. Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

It's Just Not Your Day (4k) Humour + fluff. It's you against the kids of Linkon City, and guess what? The kids are winning.

🎭 Luke and Kieran:

Onychinus' Finest (2.1k) Fluff + shenanigans. All in a day's work for Sylus's loyal and committed worker bees crows

Beneath The Mask (4.6k) Angst + fluff. Sylus and Kieran are useless, as always, so you take matters into your own hands

🎄Christmas Prompt Game 2024:

Christmas Carolling with Sylus

Under the Mistletoe with Rafayel

Decorating the Christmas Tree with Xavier

Snow Angels with Sylus

Ice Skating with Zayne

#🖋rach is actually writing

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hylkun · 10 months ago

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30 DAYS | L. HEESEUNG

SYNOPSIS: in which y/n l/n gives lee heeseung 30 days before graduation to prove his feelings for her are genuine.

PAIRING: popular!heeseung x quiet!fem!reader

GENRE: high-school!au, angst and lots of it, fluff, smau in some chapters

STATUS: ongoing (july 13, 2024 - ???)

FEATURING: enhypen, ateez, wonyoung, leeseo (ive), jungkook, hoseok (bts), jeon somi, zoa (weeekly) more to be added.

BEFORE U READ: contains strong language, heeseung shows reader so much mixed signals its crazy, drama, more to be added.

TAGLIST: OPEN

TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOLUME 1 / WEEK 1

day 1: the confession

day 2: the consequences

day 3: the jang wonyoung

day 4: the strawberry cheesecake

day 5: the bonding

day 6: the not-so-bonding

day 7: the visitor

VOLUME 2 / WEEK 2

day 8: the applications

day 9: the miss not-so-great

day 10: the arcade

day 11: the finals

day 12: the after party

day 13: the library

day 14: the kiss

VOLUME 3 / WEEK 3

day 15: the awkward stage

day 16: the silence

day 17: the regret

day 18: the apology

day 19: the counseling

day 20: the realization

day 21: the 'what the hell am i gonna do'

VOLUME 4 / WEEK 4

day 22: the time's soon up

day 23: the last week

day 24: the preparations

day 25: the unspoken rule

day 26: the mr jeon jungkook

day 27: the oblivious

day 28: the ice breaker

day 29: the last day

day 30: the love is in the air

END.

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doreminimi · 6 months ago

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lost in translation: fated encounters

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Yuki Ishikawa x Exchange Student Reader

₊˚⊹♡⋆ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 9,286 (with epilogue)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: An architectural exchange student from Japan finds herself in a bind when a service repairman arrives at her apartment in Perugia, Italy, but doesn’t speak a word of Italian. Amidst the chaos and miscommunication, her friendly neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa, steps in to help. His fluent Italian and kind demeanor break the ice, sparking an unexpected friendship between the two, maybe even leading to something more.

a/n: I might have added more to the story after that little teaser from a few days ago 🙈 but I hope you enjoy the story!

song playlist - daydream, ariana grande // perfect, one direction // stuck with you, ariana grande & justin bieber // angel baby, troye sivan // snooze, sza // 2002, anne-marie // enchanted, taylor swift // swap it out, justin bieber // late night talking, harry styles // written in the stars, wendy & john legend // fallin' all in you, shawn mendes // night changes, one direction // i like me better, lauv // count it, nayeon // dandelion, jaehyun // moonlit floor, lisa // saturn, sza (songs to listen to - doesn't have to be in any particular order)

One:

It’s another breezy autumn day in Tokyo, where life flows like a river through the bustling city streets. The air is crisp and invigorating, carrying the vibrant scents of street food — takoyaki sizzling on grills, the sweet aroma of taiyaki fresh from vendors, and the earthy fragrance of fallen leaves creating a rich collage of seasonal delights. As you navigate through the busy crowds of people, each absorbed in their own worlds, you find solace in the rhythm of the city, a comforting backdrop to your hectic life as a graduate student.

Rushing toward the University of Tokyo, you glance anxiously at your watch, a knot of worry tightening in your stomach. Today marks your weekly meeting with your supervisor, and the stakes feel especially high. You can’t afford to be late. Your heart races as you weave through groups of students, professionals, and tourists, each person wrapped in their own narrative, blissfully unaware of the internal chaos swirling within you.

Y/F/N Y/L/N. At 27, you’ve dedicated yourself to your Master’s degree in Architectural Conservation. For you, this isn’t just an academic pursuit; it’s a calling that intertwines with your passion for history and your desire to shape a better future. You envision a world where the stories of the past are honored and preserved, one building at a time. It’s a lofty ambition, but each day you draw closer to that goal, even if it feels like a long and winding road.

Finally, you reach the meeting room, taking a moment to collect yourself before stepping inside. The door swings open to reveal a space that feels like a sanctuary, walls lined with bookshelves crammed with tomes on architecture, history, and conservation, each volume whispering secrets of the past. Your supervisor, a seasoned professor with a welcoming demeanor and an infectious enthusiasm for his field, greets you with a smile that immediately eases some of your tension.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” he says, gesturing for you to take a seat at the polished wooden table strewn with papers and blueprints. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing your progress.”

As you dive into the intricacies of your research, examining the elegant curves of Baroque facades and the solemn lines of Gothic structures, emphasizing the vital importance of preservation, you can’t shake the feeling of anticipation bubbling just beneath the surface. The room feels charged, as if the air itself is holding its breath. After you lay out your findings, your supervisor leans back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of intrigue and excitement.

“Y/N, you’ve made remarkable progress. I’m genuinely impressed,” he begins, his tone growing serious. “I have a unique opportunity for you. The university has partnered with several prestigious institutions in Italy focused on architectural conservation, and we would like to offer you a short-term internship. It would involve further research at the University of Perugia.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. The prospect of Italy, a country steeped in architectural marvels and rich history, sends your mind racing. Images of ancient ruins, stunning cathedrals, and charming piazzas flood your thoughts, and you find yourself questioning the serendipity that has led to this moment. Ever since you were young, you have been captivated by the Italian lifestyle, the art, the culture, and the passion for beauty in every detail.

“Would you be interested?” he asks, his voice steady, grounding you in the moment.

Your heart leaps, a thrill of excitement surging through you. “Yes! Absolutely!” you reply, your voice filled with an enthusiasm that surprises even you.

His smile widens, radiating a mix of pride and encouragement that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “Fantastic. I’ll arrange the details. This could be a life-changing experience for you,” he assures you, his eyes twinkling with the promise of adventure and discovery.

As you leave the meeting, a renewed sense of purpose fills your veins. The bustling streets of Tokyo fade into the background, replaced by the vibrant, sun-drenched landscapes of Italy, where your dreams of conservation and culture are about to unfold.

Two:

Packing for Italy felt like a whirlwind, chaotic and exhilarating, with an undercurrent of anxiety gnawing at your excitement. Unlike your usual trips or holidays, this journey was more than just a vacation; it represented a chance to dive deep into your passion for architectural conservation. Each item you carefully folded and placed in your suitcase felt heavy with significance, as if you were curating a small part of your identity to bring along on this grand adventure.

You meticulously arranged your favorite sketchbooks, ensuring they were nestled safely between layers of clothing, their pages eager to capture the inspiration that awaited you. Your trusty set of pencils, worn from years of use, found their place alongside a few carefully chosen tokens from home: a small photograph of your family, a delicate charm bracelet from a friend, and a handmade postcard filled with messages of encouragement. Each item served as a reminder of the love and support that surrounded you, especially from those who had gathered for tearful goodbyes and heartfelt hugs. As you zipped up your suitcase, the reality of what lay ahead began to settle in, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Finally, the day of your departure arrived. The air buzzed with excitement as you boarded the plane, your heart racing at the thought of what awaited you in Italy. Tokyo faded beneath you, the sprawling metropolis giving way to the vast expanse of sky, filled with endless possibilities. You found solace in the thought of exploring Italy’s rich history and architectural treasures, even as nerves about the language barrier nibbled at the edges of your excitement.

Upon landing, Italy enveloped you like a warm embrace. Perugia welcomed you with its sun-drenched hills and terracotta rooftops, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tones of Tokyo. The cobblestone streets wound like ancient rivers, guiding you through a city steeped in history. You could almost hear the whispers of those who walked these paths long before you, and a thrill of inspiration coursed through your veins. The air was rich with the scent of aged stone and blooming flowers, creating an intoxicating blend that made your heart swell with possibility.

After settling into your cozy off-campus apartment, characterized by its rustic wooden beams overhead and a small balcony overlooking the lively street below, you took a moment to breathe in the charm of your new surroundings. The view from your balcony offered a snapshot of everyday Italian life: locals chatting animatedly, children playing, and the distant sound of a street musician strumming a cheerful tune. Yet, a shadow of anxiety loomed over you; while you were fluent in Japanese, English, Korean, and even had a bit of Mandarin under your belt, Italian was a language you had never studied. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to embrace the challenge and immerse yourself in this new world.

The next day, you headed to the University of Perugia for your initial meeting with the faculty contacts regarding your internship. The campus was alive with students bustling between classes, the air buzzing with excitement and lively conversation. As you navigated through the maze of historical buildings, each with its own unique character, you finally found the office of your liaison, Dr. Conti. She was a warm and welcoming woman with an infectious smile that immediately put you at ease.

“Welcome, Y/N!” she greeted you, extending her hand enthusiastically. “We’re thrilled to have you here. I hope your journey was smooth?”

“It was wonderful, thank you!” you replied, feeling a swell of gratitude for her kindness.

Dr. Conti led you into a sunlit conference room adorned with images of historical sites, an inspiring backdrop for your discussion. The walls were lined with photos of breathtaking architecture, from the intricate details of Renaissance buildings to the stark beauty of medieval structures. You felt a surge of motivation as she began outlining the internship details, her enthusiasm palpable.

“We’re excited to facilitate your research on architectural conservation,” she explained, her eyes sparkling with energy. “You’ll have the chance to visit various historical sites across Italy.” As she spoke, she painted a vivid picture of what lay ahead: Florence with its iconic Duomo, Venice with its enchanting canals, and Rome, where history echoes in every corner. “We have partnerships with several institutions, and you’ll be collaborating with experts in the field. We’ll focus on preservation techniques and the history behind these magnificent structures.”

Your heart raced at the thought of exploring those iconic cities. Eagerly, you leaned in, absorbing every detail of your impending adventures. “What will my specific role be?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Dr. Conti smiled warmly. “You’ll assist in research and documentation at each site. This will involve taking notes, conducting analyses, and participating in discussions. It’s an incredible opportunity to learn and contribute to important projects.”

As she detailed the itinerary, a sense of purpose solidified within you. The language barrier still loomed like a specter, but the thought of working alongside passionate individuals filled you with hope and determination. The prospect of diving headfirst into your work ignited a fire in your belly.

After the meeting concluded, Dr. Conti extended an invitation to a small get-together dinner with your new colleagues that evening. “It’ll be a casual gathering, a chance for you to meet everyone and unwind after your travels. We want you to feel at home here,” she said, her tone warm and inviting.

“Thank you! I’d love to join,” you replied, your spirits lifting at the prospect of making connections.

Later that evening, you found yourself at a cozy trattoria, laughter and conversation enveloping you like a warm blanket. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of homemade pasta and rich sauces simmering on the stove. Colleagues welcomed you with open arms, sharing stories and anecdotes that made you feel instantly included. Their passion for their work was infectious, each person animatedly discussing architectural styles and preservation techniques, their love for Italy evident in every word.

You listened intently, contributing whenever you could, though you occasionally struggled with vocabulary. Their encouragement and patience made it easier to engage, each smile and nod reassuring you. The clinking of glasses and the warm glow of candlelight created an atmosphere of camaraderie, allowing you to relax and enjoy the evening.

As you sipped on a glass of local wine, the initial anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of belonging. Surrounded by friendly faces, you realized that you were not just in Italy to study; you were part of a vibrant community that shared your passion for history and conservation. With a heart full of hope and excitement for the journey ahead, you reveled in the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of an incredible adventure.

Settling back into your apartment later that night, you reflected on the day’s events, the rich tapestry of history and culture surrounding you felt like a dream come true. With the promise of exploration and discovery ahead, you drifted off to sleep, a smile on your face and a sense of belonging warming your heart.

Three:

The days flew by, each one brimming with new experiences and challenges that filled your senses with wonder. Your routine quickly settled into a rhythm that felt both invigorating and comforting: mornings filled with engaging lectures on architectural conservation, afternoons dedicated to sketching the breathtaking landscapes around you and diving into research, and evenings devoted to practicing basic Italian phrases and vocabulary. As the days passed, the vibrant city of Perugia slowly began to feel like home.

Every day at the University of Perugia unveiled something new, like peeling back the layers of a complex painting. The professors were not only knowledgeable; they were passionate, eager to share their insights and foster discussions that ignited your curiosity. Each lecture was a journey, leading you deeper into the intricacies of Italy’s architectural heritage. You spent hours in the university library, poring over texts that chronicled centuries of design and innovation, planning visits to historical sites that made your heart race with excitement. With every new detail you uncovered, your understanding of the country’s storied past grew, and you felt a deeper connection to the very stones and bricks that had shaped its cities.

Yet, despite the thrill of discovery, the language barrier continued to present formidable hurdles. Simple tasks, such as ordering a cappuccino or asking for directions, often morphed into frustrating battles. You found yourself relying heavily on gestures, fumbling for words, and chuckling at the miscommunications that inevitably arose. At times, it felt isolating, and the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on your chest. The café you frequented before classes buzzed with animated conversations in rapid Italian, laughter spilling over like the foamy milk of the cappuccinos being served. You often wondered if you would ever feel fully woven into the vibrant life in this enchanting city.

One particularly chilly afternoon, disaster struck. You returned to your apartment after a long day of lectures, only to discover that the heating had failed. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized the implications; the temperature was plummeting, and you needed to address the problem quickly before the cold seeped into your bones. You recalled seeing a number for a repair service posted in the hallway and decided to take action.

You rushed to your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you dialed the number. The sound of the ringing filled the silence, amplifying your anxiety. When a voice finally answered, relief washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of panic. “Um, non funziona,” you stammered, realizing that your command of Italian was far from sufficient to communicate your urgent issue.

The voice on the other end responded rapidly in Italian, the words flowing like a rushing river. You frowned, trying desperately to catch snippets of meaning, but it was overwhelming. Desperation gripped you as you gestured helplessly, wishing you could convey your problem more clearly.

Just then, you heard a knock on your apartment door. You opened it to find a service man standing there, clipboard in hand, ready to assess the situation. His expression was friendly, but as he spoke, you quickly realized he was speaking in rapid Italian.

“Non capisco!” you exclaimed, feeling the panic rise within you. In a moment of inspiration, you dashed to the kitchen and grabbed your translation device, hoping it could bridge the gap. With a deep breath, you pressed the button and spoke into it, “The heating is not working.”

You held it out toward the service man, who glanced at it with a raised eyebrow. As he listened to the translated message, you could see a flicker of understanding cross his face, but he quickly replied with a string of technical terms that left you even more bewildered. Your heart sank as you struggled to keep up, the situation feeling increasingly hopeless.

Just as you were about to hang your head in defeat, a figure appeared in the hallway.

“Hey, is everything okay?” a young man asking in Japanese, stepping into your view. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he radiated a casual confidence that made you feel instantly at ease.

Yet, you blinked in surprise at his presence, not expecting someone to help you especially in a language that feels like home to you. “You speak Japanese?” you asked, a glimmer of hope igniting within you.

“Yes, I’m Yuki, your neighbor,” he replied with a friendly smile that melted away some of your anxiety. “Let me help.”

Relief flooded through you as he turned to the service man and began translating smoothly, effortlessly switching between Italian and Japanese. You watched in awe as he conveyed your issue, the service man nodding along, clearly understanding for the first time. The tension in your chest began to loosen, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

In mere minutes, Yuki had communicated the problem effectively, and the service man responded with assurance, gesturing for you to follow him to the heating unit. With Yuki translating the technical details, you learned about the issue at hand and the steps needed for repairs. His presence transformed the intimidating situation into something manageable, and you found yourself smiling as you listened.

After the service man left, you turned to Yuki, gratitude spilling from your lips in Japanese. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I have to run now, or I’ll be late to my meeting!”

As you scurried off, Yuki watched you leave, a mix of admiration and intrigue in his eyes. “She’s something else,” he thought, already pondering how to get to know you better. The warmth of human connection began to replace the earlier chill, leaving you with a sense of hope as you stepped out into the bustling streets of Perugia once more.

Four:

Days turned into a week, and you continued to navigate life in Perugia, where its rich culture began to unfold before you. The city slowly revealed its beauty, sun-drenched piazzas, charming cafes, and stunning vistas, but the language barrier persisted, creating a constant challenge. One serene afternoon, you found yourself in the garden of your apartment block, sketchbook in hand. The golden leaves danced in the autumn breeze, swirling gently to the ground, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the struggles that lingered in the back of your mind.

Yuki had just returned to the apartment complex after a particularly intensive volleyball training session. He felt invigorated yet exhausted, the fresh air revitalizing him as he inhaled the sweet scent of blooming flowers wafting from the small garden shared by the residents. Deciding to take a moment to unwind, he stepped into the garden, his eyes scanning the peaceful scene before him.

To his delight, he spotted you sitting on a bench beneath a large olive tree, deeply engrossed in your sketching. Your pencil moved fluidly across the page, capturing the delicate play of light and shadow. A rush of warmth spread through him at the sight; there was something undeniably captivating about watching you in your element, completely absorbed in your passion.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up to see Yuki, relaxed in a simple t-shirt and joggers, a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, enjoying the garden?” he asked, his voice breaking the serene atmosphere.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. “It’s beautiful here. I’ve always dreamed of coming to Italy, but… I’m struggling with the language.”

Yuki quickly took a seat beside you on the bench, considering your words thoughtfully. “I can help you with that. How about I teach you Italian, and you teach me English?”

Your heart leaped at the idea. “That sounds perfect! I’d love that!”

From that moment, you began your weekly meetups, gathering in each other’s apartments, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and the occasional stray sketch. The air was filled with laughter and the gentle hum of learning, punctuated by the occasional frustration as you fumbled through phrases. Each lesson felt like a dance, with Yuki patiently correcting your pronunciation while you helped him navigate the subtleties of slang.

“What’s the Italian word for ‘dream’?” you asked one evening, jotting it down in your notebook.

“‘Sogno.’ It’s a beautiful word, don’t you think?” he replied, a soft smile lighting up his face. “It holds a sense of longing, of hope.”

As the weeks passed, your conversations deepened, exploring not only language but also the stories that shaped you both. One evening, sitting on your balcony under the silvery glow of the moon, you turned to Yuki and said, “You know, I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world. But coming here… it’s more than I imagined. It’s like I’m not just discovering a new place; I’m discovering parts of myself I didn’t know were missing.”

Yuki leaned closer, intrigued. “What do you mean? What have you discovered about yourself?”

You hesitated, the weight of your thoughts grounding you. “I’ve always been the one to follow the rules, to stay in the lines. But here, I feel free to explore, to create. The architecture, the history,it speaks to me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It’s like I can finally breathe.”

His expression softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. “It’s amazing how a place can unlock something within us. What about your studies? Why did you choose architectural conservation?”

You took a deep breath, reflecting on the journey that had led you here. “I’ve always been captivated by the stories buildings tell. Every crack, every faded paint color,it's like they hold memories of the lives that came before. I want to preserve that history, to honor it. In a world that often pushes for the new and shiny, I believe there’s beauty in what’s old and worn. It deserves to be seen, to be understood.”

Yuki listened intently, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I can see how passionate you are about this. But why Italy? What draws you here specifically?”

You smiled, the memories flooding back. “As a child, I was entranced by Italian art and architecture. I’d spend hours in museums, dreaming of standing in front of a Renaissance painting or wandering through ancient ruins. Italy isn’t just a backdrop for my studies; it’s a living, breathing piece of art itself. It felt like destiny to come here.”

He leaned back, contemplating your words. “You have such a deep appreciation for history. But isn’t it intimidating to think about preserving something so grand and significant?”

You nodded, acknowledging the weight of the responsibility. “It is. But it also feels like a calling. I want to learn from the past to create a better future, even if it’s just one building at a time. It’s about connecting with people through these structures, sharing their stories.”

A moment of silence settled between you, the moonlight casting a serene glow. Yuki felt a newfound respect for you, captivated by your passion and depth. “That’s beautiful. You’re not just studying architecture; you’re crafting a narrative that will resonate long after you’re gone.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot coming from you.”

As you spoke, the boundaries between you began to dissolve. You were no longer just a stranger in a foreign land; you were two souls intertwined in a shared journey of discovery. Your laughter filled the night air, each moment bringing you closer together. You realized that by opening up to each other, you had started to build a friendship that not only reflected the rich histories you both cherished but was also blossoming into something deeper — a relationship full of promise and connection.

Five:

As the weeks rolled on, the anticipation of your next nightly meeting with Yuki lingers in the back of your mind like a sweet melody. Classes were engaging, and you found yourself diving deeper into your research, but there was a lightness in your heart that made even the most tedious tasks feel enjoyable. The bond you were forming with Yuki. had brought a spark to your days, and you couldn’t wait to see where it might lead.

One evening, after a long day of lectures, you decided to unwind by scrolling through TikTok. As the videos flitted by, one caught your attention: a clip of a volleyball match featuring a player who moved with incredible agility and grace. You couldn’t help but stop, mesmerized by the power and finesse on display. The comment section was flooded with admiration for the athlete, and as you watched, a familiar face appeared on screen, Yuki.

Your jaw dropped as you recognized him, the same easy smile and familiar dark hair. You quickly scrolled through the comments, realizing he was the captain for the Japanese national team and a star player in the Italian league. The hours go by as you continually scroll through the app to learn more about your recently neighbour-turned-friend. Your mind raced, filled with questions. How had you not known?

The next time you met Yuki in the garden, you could hardly contain your excitement. “Yuki, you didn’t tell me you were a famous volleyball player! I saw a video on TikTok of you playing! You’re amazing!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with astonishment.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a shy smile. “I didn’t think you would find out this way.”

“I can’t believe you’re a national team player! Why didn’t you tell me?” you pressed, still buzzing with disbelief.

“I guess I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replied, a hint of modesty in his tone. “I just love the sport. My older sister introduced me to volleyball when I was young, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

“That’s amazing! What made you stick with it?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Yuki leaned back against the bench, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “It was more than just the game for me. It was a way to challenge myself, to grow both as an individual and as a player. When the opportunity came to play in Italy during my college years, I couldn’t resist. It felt like a chance to expand my horizons, experience a new culture, and improve my skills.”

You nodded, impressed by his journey. “So, how’s the league here compared to Japan?”

“It’s different, for sure,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke about the sport. “The style of play, the atmosphere in the arenas, it's all unique. I’ve learned so much from my teammates here, and it’s been a rewarding experience.”

“What’s the biggest difference you’ve noticed?” you asked, leaning in, eager to hear more.

Yuki thought for a moment, then smiled. “In Japan, there’s a strong emphasis on precision and teamwork. Here, the players tend to be more individualistic, which creates a different kind of excitement. The energy in the stadiums is electric; the fans really get into it. It makes every match feel like an event.”

You could see the passion in his eyes, and it made you want to know more. “Do you have a favorite match or moment that stands out to you?”

His expression turned nostalgic. “Definitely. One match during the volleyball nations league finals in 2023 was unforgettable, it was the first time Japan won a medal in the VNLs. The game went into five sets, and the atmosphere was just insane. I remember making a crucial spike that turned the tide and closed the game. The roar of the crowd was deafening, it felt like everything I had trained for had come to fruition in that moment.”

“Wow, I can only imagine how exhilarating that must have been! Do you ever get nervous before a big game?” you asked, intrigued.

He laughed lightly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “All the time. But I’ve learned to channel that nervous energy into focus. It’s like a dance, you have to find your rhythm, or you’ll get lost in your head. Plus, having my teammates around helps. We support each other, and that bond is really special.”

You smiled, appreciating his perspective. “It sounds like you’ve built a great team dynamic. It’s so important to have that kind of support.”

“I’d love to see you play,” you said without thinking, your excitement bubbling over. “Do you have any upcoming games?”

Yuki’s expression brightened. “Actually, yes. We have a home game this Saturday. Would you like to come? It would mean a lot to me to have someone there supporting me.”

Your heart raced at the invitation. “I’d love to! What time is the game?”

“Starts at six. I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his enthusiasm palpable.

“You don’t have to go out of your way to do that for me, I can try to get the ticket myself. But thank you for the offer. Regardless I can’t wait to see you play live!” you thanked him, your excitement blending with a hint of nervousness.

As the conversation flowed, you both discussed the logistics of the game, and you found yourself getting caught up in his passion for volleyball. It was a side of him that felt so vibrant and alive, and you felt lucky to be included in this part of his life.

When the day of the game finally arrived, you found yourself buzzing with anticipation. You dressed in comfortable clothes, deciding to wear a simple oversized jersey tucked neatly into the seams of your jeans. As you made your way to the arena, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttered in your stomach. This was a chance to see a different side of Yuki, and you were eager to experience it.

Upon arriving at the venue, you were greeted by the energetic atmosphere, the sounds of fans cheering, and the smell of popcorn wafting through the air. You spotted Yuki warming up on the court with his teammates, and your heart swelled with pride as you watched him move with such intensity and focus.

As the match progressed, you found yourself completely immersed in the game, cheering along with the crowd. Every time Yuki scored a point, you erupted with joy, your excitement matching the energy of the fans around you. It was exhilarating, and you felt a newfound appreciation for the sport and for Yuki himself.

When the final whistle blew and the team celebrated their victory, you couldn’t help but join in their excitement. Yuki spotted you in the stands, a radiant smile breaking across his face as he jogged over, still glistening with sweat from the game.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, breathless but beaming.

“It was incredible! You played so well!” you exclaimed, still riding the high of the match.

“Thanks! I’m glad you came. It means a lot to have your support,” he said, his expression warm and sincere.

In that moment, surrounded by the buzz of victory and the vibrant energy of the arena, you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were growing. It was more than just friendship; there was something special blossoming between you, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Six:

As spring blossomed in Perugia, the city transformed into a vibrant display of colors. Flowers burst into bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance and the promise of new beginnings. It had been several months since you first arrived in Italy, and as your internship at the University of Perugia neared its end, you found yourself reflecting on the incredible journey you had taken, not just in your studies, but in your relationship with Yuki.

The bond between you had deepened remarkably over the months. What had started as a friendship rooted in shared experiences and language lessons had evolved into something much more profound. You spent countless hours together exploring the charming streets of Perugia, visiting museums, sipping coffee at quaint cafés, and enjoying late-night dinners at local restaurants. Each outing felt like a new adventure, a chance to learn more about each other and the world around you.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourselves at the farmers’ market on a rare day off together, the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter. Yuki walked beside you, calm and collected, a gentle smile playing on his lips as you bounced from stall to stall, your excitement palpable.

“Look at this!” you exclaimed, holding up a plump tomato. “These beauties are going to be the star for our sauce-off next pasta night!” You turned to him, beaming.

Yuki chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “They certainly have potential,” he replied, his voice steady yet warm. “Just promise not to underestimate the power of love when cooking in the kitchen.”

You nudged him playfully. “Only if you promise not to use it as your secret ingredient!” His laughter felt like a soothing balm, easing the joy swirling around you.

As you wandered through the market, picking out ripe strawberries and fragrant basil, you marveled at how far you had come together. From art galleries filled with Renaissance masterpieces to lazy Sunday mornings sampling fresh produce and local delicacies, each shared moment deepened your bond. You even braved the bustling Christmas markets, bundled up in warm coats, exchanging playful banter as you browsed stalls filled with handmade crafts and seasonal treats.

With each shared experience, your feelings for Yuki grew stronger. His kindness, passion for volleyball, and genuine curiosity about the world drew you in like a moth to a flame. You admired how he balanced his athletic commitments, and his dedication inspired you to push harder in your own work. In turn, he found your determination and enthusiasm infectious, and the way you embraced every moment made him appreciate life in Italy even more.

Eventually, you made your way to the artisan corner of the market, where the air buzzed with creativity and the scents of handmade goods mingled with fresh produce. Colorful stalls displayed everything from intricate pottery to handwoven textiles, each one a testament to local craftsmanship. The vibrant atmosphere was alive with laughter and chatter, drawing you in like a warm embrace.

You spotted a vibrant scarf draped elegantly over one of the tables. Picking it up, you wrapped it around your shoulders and looked at Yuki expectantly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “You look like a fashionable grape,” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“Very funny!” you rolled your eyes at him, but a smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts to feign annoyance. You were having too much fun to take him seriously. “What about these earrings?” you asked, holding up a pair of colorful dangling pieces that caught the light just right, their hues reflecting your excitement.

Yuki took a moment to consider them, his expression thoughtful. “Those might be a bit too bold,” he finally said, his voice steady. “You need a hat to balance it out. Something to bring the whole look together.”

“Alright, fashion critic,” you laughed, a challenge dancing in your eyes. You scanned the nearby stall and spotted a wide-brimmed hat perched jauntily on a display. Without hesitation, you picked it up and plopped it onto your head, striking a dramatic pose as if you were on a runway.

Yuki’s laughter filled the air, rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm hug. The sound was infectious, drawing smiles from passersby and making your heart race a little faster. In that moment, something shifted; the playful teasing felt charged with a new warmth. You exchanged glances, and a flicker of understanding passed between you, as if you were both aware of the deeper connection growing in the space between your playful banter.

This wasn’t just a day at the market; it was a moment full of potential, like the scarf and hat you wore, colors blending together that hinted at the beautiful growth of your relationship. Surrounded by the lively buzz of the market and the promise of what lay ahead, you felt a thrilling sense of possibility lingering in the air.

As you both finished exploring the artisan corner, your bags filled with vibrant finds, you glanced at Yuki, who was quietly admiring a delicate glass ornament he had picked up. “I think we’ve officially completed our market adventure,” you said, grinning.

“Agreed,” he replied, a calm smile on his face. “But I think we deserve a reward for our hard work. How about a stop at that café we saw on the way in? I hear they have the best pastries in town.”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “That sounds perfect! I need something sweet after all that shopping.”

With the market behind you, the two of you strolled toward the cozy café, the air still buzzing. Yuki walked beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as you chattered excitedly about all the finds of the day. As you entered the café, the warm scent of freshly baked goods enveloped you, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. The café was charming, with rustic wooden tables and twinkling fairy lights that added to the inviting atmosphere.

You approached the counter, scanning the display of decadent desserts. “Look at all these choices!” you exclaimed, pointing to a beautifully layered cake that seemed to call your name. “I have to try that!”

Yuki nodded, his gaze calm and focused. “That looks good, and we can’t leave without getting their famous hot chocolate.”

After placing your order, two steaming mugs of rich hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a selection of pastries, including the layered cake and some tiramisu, you found a cozy corner table by the window. You settled in, the warmth of the café enveloping you as you watched the world outside, where the lights danced against the evening sky.

As you sipped your hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile at Yuki. “This is the best way to end our day. Just look at everything we’ve accomplished!”

He took a sip of his drink, nodding appreciatively. “Absolutely. And we still have dessert to look forward to.”

You shared the desserts, each bite sweeter than the last, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between you. Laughter filled the air as you exchanged stories and silly banter, both of you completely absorbed in the moment. Yuki listened intently, responding with a soft chuckle or a thoughtful nod, his calm demeanor providing a comforting balance to your excitement.

With each shared smile and gentle touch, the bond between you felt even stronger, creating a collection of memories that you knew would last far beyond this magical day. As you prepared to head home, a sense of contentment settled in, the possibilities of what lay ahead blooming in your heart like the vibrant colors of the market. You knew this was just the beginning of many more adventures together.

Later that evening, back at your apartment after a long day, you lounged on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room. You turned to Yuki, recalling how every moment spent together had brought you closer, solidifying your bond.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Yuki asked, leaning back with a nostalgic smile. “I was nervous about helping you with the repairman.”

You chuckled, recalling how flustered you had been that day. “Really? I didn’t even know! I was panicking, thinking I’d never figure anything out without your help. I can’t believe how far we’ve come since then.”

“Yeah, it’s like we’ve become a team,” he said, his gaze steady on you. “I can’t imagine my time here without you.”

The weight of his words settled in the air, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both. You felt a flutter of something, a shared understanding that your friendship had shifted into deeper territory. The thought of returning to Japan in a few weeks loomed over you, casting a shadow of uncertainty.

“What are you thinking?” Yuki asked gently, sensing your contemplation.

You took a deep breath, heart racing as you chose your words carefully. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our friendship… and what’s going to happen when I go back to Japan. I’m excited to finish my thesis, but I’m really going to miss this. I’m going to miss us.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I’ve been feeling the same way. This place, the experiences we’ve shared,they’ve meant so much to me. I didn’t expect to form such a close bond with you.”

As he spoke, your heart pounded in your chest. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the shift in the dynamic between you. You both had been dancing around your feelings for weeks, and now it seemed the moment had finally arrived.

“I think what we have is special,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “But I’m scared. I don’t know what it looks like when I go back. I don’t want to lose what we’ve built here.”

Yuki leaned forward, his gaze intense. “You won’t lose it. We can figure it out together. I want to keep this connection alive, no matter the distance.”

Your breath caught at his words, a sense of hope blooming within you. “Really? You mean that?”

“Of course. I’d like to explore what this could be,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I feel something more here. And I want to see where it leads.”

The warmth of his words enveloped you, and you felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. You both leaned in closer, the space between you charged with possibility. The idea of a romance blossoming felt thrilling yet daunting, but you couldn’t ignore the connection that had grown between you.

“So what does that look like for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation settling in.

He paused, contemplating. “Well, for starters, we can make a plan to visit each other. I can come to Japan during my off-season, and you can come back here when you can. Plus, we can always video chat and keep texting.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you said, nodding, but a thought nagged at you. “But what if things change? What if we grow apart?”

“Change is inevitable,” he replied, his sincerity shining through. “But I believe we can adapt. We’ve both grown so much during our time here, and we can keep growing together. Our experiences shape us, but they can also strengthen our connection if we let them.”

You felt comforted by his words. “You’re right. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares me. But it also feels right.”

Yuki smiled softly, his expression tender. “Me too. I want to be there for you, even from afar. I’ll support you with your thesis and all your future plans. And I want you to be there for me when I have games and tournaments.”

A playful smile crept across your face. “You mean I’ll have to learn how to cheer for you in Italian now? That’s going to be a challenge!”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “I’ll help you with that! But honestly, I just want you in the stands, cheering me on. It would mean the world to have you there.”

“Deal,” you replied, your heart swelling at the thought of supporting him.

“But beyond just cheering,” he continued, his voice growing serious, “I want you to be part of my life, to understand the things that are important to me, just like I want to understand yours. It’s more than just distance; it’s about really sharing our lives.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “I want to know everything, your daily routines, your training, even your favorite post-game meals. And you’ll have to tell me all about your family and life back in Japan. I want to understand the real you.”

Yuki nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “And I want you to show me your world, too. I want to visit your favorite places in Japan and meet your friends. I want to know more about you, just like you will learn more about me.”

As the evening wore on, you both continued to talk, sharing hopes and dreams, crafting a vision of a future filled with adventures together. The laughter and warmth that filled the room made it feel like anything was possible.

With a newfound resolve, you both made a silent agreement to embrace whatever came next. For now, you were here together in this beautiful moment, ready to see where your journey would take you. The possibilities stretched out before you like the blooming flowers of spring, and you felt a renewed sense of excitement for what lay ahead.

Seven:

Returning to Japan was a bittersweet experience. The familiar sights and sounds of Tokyo enveloped you, yet they felt strangely different, transformed by your time abroad. The bustling streets, the scent of street food wafting through the air, and the vibrant energy of the city reminded you of home, but they also brought back memories of Italy - the warmth of the sun on your skin, the laughter shared over meals, and the enchanting cobblestone streets of Perugia. You had left as a passionate student and returned as someone shaped by profound experiences, both academic and personal, particularly your blossoming relationship with Yuki.

As graduation day approached, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The University of Tokyo, renowned for its rigorous academic programs, was a place of pride, and the excitement of the upcoming ceremony filled the air. Friends and family gathered, and you felt a mixture of nerves and pride at the thought of standing before everyone as the valedictorian. It was an honor you had never anticipated, and the weight of that responsibility felt both thrilling and daunting.

On the day of the ceremony, you slipped into your cap and gown, your heart racing with both pride and anxiety. You took a moment to look in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting your cap. You thought of how much you had grown over the past few years and how much you had learned about yourself. The thought of Yuki filled your mind, and a bittersweet smile crept onto your face wishing he would be here to celebrate your special day together.

As you arrived at the university hall, the grand space was filled with graduates in their caps and gowns, family members taking pictures, and the chatter of anticipation echoing off the walls. The sight of your friends, who had supported you through countless late-night study sessions and group projects, made you feel grateful. They had been your rock, and now you were about to embark on a new chapter of your life, one that included Yuki in a way you had never expected.

When it was time for your speech, you took a deep breath, stepping up to the podium. The audience was filled with familiar faces - your friends, family, and faculty members who had guided you through your studies. You glanced around, and there, amid the sea of graduates and supporters, you spotted Yuki sitting proudly beside your friends. His presence shocked you as you were not expecting him to be there, and yet you felt a surge of happiness at his presence.

“Good afternoon, esteemed faculty, family, friends, and fellow graduates,” you began, your voice steady and clear as you looked out at the crowd. “Today marks a significant milestone in our lives, a celebration of our hard work and perseverance. As I stand here, I am reminded of the incredible journey that brought me to this moment.”

You spoke about your experiences at the University of Tokyo, recounting the late nights spent in the library, the professors who inspired you, and the challenges that shaped your academic path. “I was fortunate enough to be presented with a unique opportunity to study architectural conservation in Italy. This experience was not only about expanding my knowledge but also about discovering who I am.”

As you shared stories of the people you met and the places you explored, your gaze drifted back to Yuki. He was leaning forward, a warm smile on his face, his eyes shining with pride. The sight filled you with warmth and strength as you continued, recounting how your time in Italy had broadened your horizons, enriched your life, and ultimately led to a profound connection with someone who had become a crucial part of your journey.

“During my time abroad, I learned that the world is vast and filled with opportunities for growth,” you said, your voice gaining momentum. “But more importantly, I discovered the value of connection. The friendships I forged and the love I found have made all the difference.”

You looked out at the audience, your heart swelling with emotion. “I remember feeling lost in a new city, struggling to communicate, yet I found a neighbor who became a friend, a mentor, and something even more special. The bond we formed taught me that sometimes, the people we least expect to touch our lives can change everything.”

The crowd erupted into applause, and you could feel the support wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You noticed your family beaming with pride, and your friends were clapping enthusiastically, but it was Yuki’s unwavering gaze that kept you grounded. He was your rock, your partner in this journey, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love that had blossomed between you.

As you concluded your speech, you felt a rush of adrenaline. “Today, as we celebrate our achievements, let us remember that we are not just graduates. We are explorers, dreamers, and builders of our futures. And no matter where life takes us, the connections we make will always guide us forward.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, applause crashing over you like waves. You took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling exhilarated and relieved. The ceremony felt surreal, and you spotted Yuki standing, clapping enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with pride. Your heart swelled as you realized just how far you had come, from strangers to neighbors, from friends to a couple deeply supporting each other.

After the ceremony, you stepped off the stage, a mixture of relief and joy washing over you. Friends and family surrounded you, offering hugs and congratulations, but all you could think about was Yuki. You made your way through the crowd, your heart racing with anticipation.

Finally, you spotted him waiting for you, his face lighting up as your eyes met. He stepped forward, enveloping you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home. “You were incredible. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Thank you! I couldn’t have done it without your support,” you replied, pulling back to look into his eyes. “It means so much to me that you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’ve achieved so much, and I’m honored to be part of your journey.”

You stood there, the noise of the crowd fading into the background, lost in the moment. It felt surreal to have him by your side after all that had happened. You had grown together, navigating challenges and triumphs hand in hand.

As the festivities continued around you, he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s next for us?”

You smiled, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Well, we have so many places to explore together! I’ve been wanting to go to this cute otter cafe in Harajuku but I didn’t want to go alone. But now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to go!” you excitedly tell him, while holding his hand and ushering him along to finally meet your family.

With laughter and shared stories, you both stepped back into the bustling crowd, ready to celebrate not just your accomplishments, but the journey ahead together. The day felt like the beginning of everything, a promise of more adventures, love, and support as you embraced the future together.

Epilogue:

The next weekend, after the whirlwind of graduation festivities, you and Yuki decided to treat yourselves to a day of fun. The thought of visiting the otter cafe in Harajuku filled you with excitement, and you could hardly contain your giggles as you made your way there.

When you arrived, the cafe was a cozy little haven filled with the soft sounds of water splashing and playful chirps from the otters. The friendly staff led you to a designated area where you could interact with the otters, and you could already see them swimming gracefully in their enclosure.

As you settled in, the otters began to take notice of Yuki. At 192 cm, he was an imposing figure, and it didn’t take long for a particularly adventurous otter to swim up to him. Without hesitation, it scrambled onto Yuki's shoulder.

“Uh, hello there,” Yuki said, trying to maintain his composure as the otter settled in. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Look at you! You’ve got an otter on your shoulder!” you teased, grabbing your phone to capture the moment.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he replied, trying to gently nudge the otter off. But before he could, another otter climbed up his other arm, causing him to squirm slightly. “They’re really persistent!”

You were doubled over with laughter now, holding your phone up to record as one particularly bold otter made its way onto Yuki’s head. “Oh my gosh, this is the best!” you exclaimed, barely able to catch your breath.

“Please tell me this isn’t going to be on social media,” Yuki groaned, a mix of exasperation and humor in his voice as the otters seemed to make him their personal jungle gym.

You couldn’t resist. “I’m sending this to your sisters! They need to see their ‘tall otter’ brother in action!”

“Not my sisters! They’ll never let me live this down!” he protested, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed how much he was enjoying the moment, even if he would never admit it.

“Look at them! They love you!” you laughed, your phone capturing every second of Yuki's predicament as the otters scampered up and down his arms, occasionally pausing to peer at him curiously. One even made itself comfortable on his head, causing him to tilt sideways in an attempt to balance.

“Why are they so drawn to me?” Yuki asked, feigning exasperation. “Am I some kind of otter magnet?”

You shook your head, tears of laughter forming in your eyes. “Maybe they think you’re a giant otter! Just look at that one on your head! You’ve become their throne!”

Yuki finally managed to free himself of one of the otters, only for another to take its place. “This is a nightmare!” he said dramatically, though you could see the hint of a smile lurking on his lips.

“More like a dream for me!” you replied, continuing to film. “Your sisters are going to love this!”

“Please, no more videos,” he pleaded, but you could see he was secretly amused, the way his shoulders relaxed even amidst the chaos.

As the hour went by, you enjoyed every second of Yuki's playful misery. The otters eventually climbed down, allowing him to regain his composure, but you couldn’t shake the laughter that had filled the space.

When it was finally time to leave the cafe, Yuki looked at you, shaking his head with a mock-serious expression. “You’re so mean, laughing at my plight. I’m going to hear about this for ages.”

You leaned closer, your heart full of warmth. “But you have to admit it was worth it. Besides, you looked adorable!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Only you could make me enjoy being a human playground for otters.”

As you walked through the bustling streets of Harajuku, hand in hand, you felt a sense of joy radiating between you. The laughter, the shared moments, and even Yuki's good-natured misery made everything feel alive with possibilities. With every adventure, big or small, you knew that your bond was growing deeper, and you couldn’t wait for what lay ahead together.

Hi guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this writing, definitely longer than my first one but will definitely not be the last. If you guys have any suggestions or requests for stories, let me know! I am quite interested in writing stories for the other members, as well as people in the k-pop scene ♡ Don't forget to like and comment if you enjoyed reading this story!

#ishikawa yuki x reader #yuki ishikawa x reader #ishikawa yuki imagines #ishikawa yuki au #ishikawa yuki fluff #yuki ishikawa imagines #yuki ishikawa au #yuki ishikawa fluff #ryujin nippon #yuki ishikawa

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eardefenders · 1 year ago

Text

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 1 Transcript

00:00-00:30 Intro Music

*Typing Sounds*

0:36 Sherlock: What are you doing?

0:37 John: I’m collating the questions from the fans. Ah-well, d’you know actually they might not be fans. They might just. *pause* I don’t, I don’t know, listen, but, uh, ah, you know not actually, you know-

0:48 Sherlock: -Like you?

0:49 John: What?

0:49 Sherlock: They might not actually like you.

0:51 John: Us. The show. Anything. What do you mean ‘not like me’? Why would they not like me?

0:57 Sherlock: Well…you can come on a little strong…sometimes, I suppose.

1:02 John: In what way?

1:03 Sherlock (voice slightly high): You’re just, rather, keen. (voice normal, reassuring even) Nothing wrong with that of course.

1:07 John (sarcastically): Oh, great, thanks.

1:09 Sherlock: That’s something people add after making a crude observation on another’s character.

1:14 John (warily): What is?

1:14 Sherlock: “Nothing wrong with that of course.”

1:17 John: So you just added it because you thought-

1:19 Sherlock: It would soften the blow.

1:20 John (sarcastic): Lovely. Very kind.

1:23 Sherlock (clearly missing the sarcasm): Quite alright.

1:24 John: Okaaay, we got some Q’s from the L’s, and now its time for us to provide the A’s. That’s, uh, that’s questions from the listeners and for us to provide the answers.

1:36 Sherlock: Yes, I cracked the code, Watson.

1:39 John: Right! So! Beau from California wants to know where they should go when they visit London.

1:44 Sherlock: Er, sorry, uh, I thought this was about crime?

1:47 John: Whaddya mean?

1:48 Sherlock: I thought there would be questions regarding criminal activity?

1:52 John (lightly sarcastic): Oh, right yeah, sorry. Um, there is one here from ‘PsychoMurderer69’ who wants to know if he should stab his next-door neighbor.

1:58 Sherlock (seriously): What’s the length of the blade he’d have access to?

2:00 John: Jesus Christ.

2:00 Sherlock: Does the neighbor show signs of possessing any self-defense skillsets?

2:04 John (interjecting over Sherlock): Alright, no, where should Beau visit in London, please?

2:09 Sherlock: Um, uh, St. Dunstan in the East. Little Venice. Spitalfields. Brick Lane. The Vaults! Neal’s Yard is rather charming as well, I suppose…pleasing colors on display.

2:20 John: Right, great. Colors. See, that wasn’t difficult, was it?

2:23 Sherlock: South Kensington Ice Rink.

2:25 John: Yeah, lovely. I- Sorry, where are you going?

2:26 *Sound of door opening.*

2:27 Sherlock: I just said.

2:27 *Audio Cut - Vaguely outside sounds.*

2:28 John (sounding like he’s struggling to balance): Heeey, folks its, woah, woah, Ja-ah,*sound of skate blades scraping deeply in ice* Jesus, aw, bloody hell, ahahaaah Christ. *sounds of the mic rubbing as he presumably falls down, a sharp intake of pained breath* Ahh.

2:35 Sherlock (sounding at ease): Get up, Watson.

2:36 John: Ah, oh yeah, thanks for the advice. Uh, um, hey folks-*under his breath*ah, God- Sherlock, can get *sounding unsteady on his feet* easily distracted when he’s not w-w-what’d’you call it. Uh. Totally onboard with something. So he wanted to *sounding unsteady again* go ice-ce skating. Uhum *clears throat*, uh there’s a-a rink. Temporary rink open in South Kensington right now so we’re skating- hey-oh, ooo-getting up some speed now. Oh here we go. Ha ha hah! God is this what Canadians feel like? Oy oy! *laughs proudly*

3:10 Sherlock: Very good, Watson. You’ve got the hang of it.

3:11 John: Hahah, yeah well I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not smashing my ribs into the ice, uh, for the time being. So-woah! Shit!- *clears throat* Right! Another question!

3:21 Sherlock: Go for it.

3:22 John: “What are your favorite hobbies?”

3:24 Sherlock: *with relish* CRIME. Deductions. Observations! Intricate studies that focus my mind. Feeding my hyper fixations, which often stem from crime and the desire to understand it.

3:37 John: …Riiiight. Yeah, I think the listener Sherlo8 in Poland, uh, I think they meant more like, um, you know, I don’t know. Golf?

3:48 Sherlock: Golf? *chuckles* I don’t golf. I live in Baker Street.

3:52 John: No, I-I know, but, um. *deep breath* Right, okay. My hobby is-

3:58 Sherlock (interjects): Podcasting.

3:59 John: Well, no. Uh, that’s my job.

4:00 Sherlock (skeptically): Is it now?

4:01 John: My hobbies. Uh…so I like to play football. I like films and tv. Ummm I’m very partial to a board game. Uhhhh… Oh! Ok! So here’s a confession. I have the flight tracker app. I’m not saying I’m a, a plane spotter, but um… I like to, yeah, just check in with that. Y’know? See what’s overhead? Where it’s come from, where it’s going. Picture the kinda people that uh. *sigh* Oh I don’t know, going from swha-Rome to Mexico City, y’know? Th-th-the weary business men and women tucking into their inflight meals, families that have created a whole crate of memories that they’re going to talk about for decades.

4:42 John (dramatically): The lovesick Italian man flying out to see his Mexican sweetheart. His heart bursting with excitement and fear that the stewards who keep complaining about some bloke in Row G, c-

4:49 Sherlock (interjects): Trains.

4:50 John: Hm?

4:51 Sherlock: Trains. I like trains. And, dinosaurs.

4:56 John: Ok. Great! Well, haha! That’s wonderful! We did it, another answer to another question. See, I told you it’s bloody easy- *sound of an ice blade scraping the ice too hard/wrong, a loud hard thump, the mic is rubbing terribly against clothing, sound is muffled* Oh, God!

5:07 *Audio Cut-Vaguely café sounds*

5:09 John (pained): Ahhh *sucks in air through his teeth* Oh that stings. *sounds like he’s holding his face*

5:15 Sherlock: Yep, they’re loaning us their frozen peas.

5:18 John: Oh what, they’ve got frozen peas in this place? Why aren’t they fresh, meals are twenty quid?

5:21 Sherlock: Uh, do you want the frozen peas or not?

5:23 John: Yeah! Yes, please, give’em here. *sound of a bag of frozen peas being shuffled around, John’s voice is muffled* Oh, yeah. Oh hoho, that’s the stuff, baby. Oh yeah. Ahhhhhhhhh. 5:39 Sherlock: Just to confirm,

5:40 John: Uh hunh?

5:40 Sherlock: they are paying for this? People are…paying for this audio?

5:46 John: Yeah, mate. Oh! Ah God! Ooo! Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie, ouchie…

5:49 Sherlock: Understood. Well, people can be rather odd, can’t they? Nothing wrong with that of course.

5:55 John: Uh, d’you mind? I see- I actually know what you’re doing with that ‘nothing wrong with that’ lark. So, right! Next question, ‘How did Archie get his name?’ says May Van der Hayden in New Zealand. Ah, well mate, I didn’t have much say in the matter. *clicks tongue* Um, I bought him as a birthday present for…uhhhh. M-my ex-girlfriend. Um, e-e-ex…yeah, y’know she was. She was-she was the bi- big one. The one I l-lived with and planned t’m-my life. Around. Sort of thing. Um. *clicks tongue* B-bought him for her, she chose Archie. Um. I-I don’t know why? Ha. And then she chose my friend who had a Range Rover Sport. So, yeah, she left me and the dog. *clicks tongue* And I left the dog to help the Ukrainians. Now I’m back. *clicks tongue* Got a dog and a master detective. Uh, lucky me. *awkward chuckle*

6:55 Sherlock: I feel your answers should be more concise.

6:58 John: Yep, thank you for that input. May also asks, Sherlock, seeing as you have handled cases for other countries, have you ever handled any in New Zealand?

7:07 Sherlock: Yes.

7:08 John: Oh! Lip, lip. Now numb. Ah, ah. Can you expand on that please?

7:13 Sherlock: Yes, but you’d have to stop recording or redact it from the podcast.

7:17 John: Aw, what’d be the point of that?

7:19 *Audio Cut- Sounds like they’re on the tube now*

7:23 John: Question here from Chloe Davies in Canada. Hi, Chloe. Sherlock, your hugging machine, is it based on that of Temple Grandin?

7:31 Sherlock: Er, she sent me some early designs, yes. I needed to tweak its pressure loads to clench my shoulder blades.

7:40 John: That’s the way you like it, is it? Hugwise?

7:43 Sherlock: Yes. Any sensation below the diaphragm causes me to stress.

7:47 John: Good to know. Uh, Nick Licher or, er, Licker. Uh…let’s go with Nick Licher. He asks, “Why did Sherlock need your shoelaces?” Yeah, why did you need my shoelaces?

7:58 Sherlock: I was conducting a thorough cleansing of our garments following the proximity to duck poo we had undergone that day in the park. *sucks in air sharply* The shoes contain the most potentially harmful pathogens. I removed the shoelaces for deep cleaning.

8:11 John: Okay.

8:12 Sherlock: Okay? Is that it? For potentially saving you untold hours and days on the toilet?

8: 19 John: How so?

8:20 Sherlock: E.coli, Watson.

8:22 John: Yeah, but on my shoelaces? Mate, I wasn’t going to chew on them. Right, Adrien Kaiser from Minnesota. “John, if you miss an upload should we just assume you and Sherlock have been arrested or are dead?”

8:32 Sherlock: Yes. As assumptions go, those options would be some of the likeliest. Wouldn’t you agree Watson?

8:39 John: No.

8:40 Sherlock: Why not?

8:40 John: Well, I don’t know. Maybe my laptop breaks, maybe we don’t get an adventure that week, I’m ill, your ill, a long list of things that aren’t dead or arrested, Sherlock.

8:50 Sherlock: It was Adrien that said it, not me.

8:52 John: *heavy sigh* Arlo asks, as a Shakespeare fan-him, not me- he asks what my favorite play by him was. Uhhh, um, I love Romeo and Juliet. Bit of um, a sucker for romance, me. *awkward chuckle* Hamlet’s too long, should’ve streamlined that a little. I’m uh going to go Romeo and Juliet. Or Julius Ceasar. Good drama in that one, I think. Kind of can’t understand what they’re saying, but uh I hold my English teachers at school responsible for that one, I mean also why are we reading them? Yeah, they’re meant to be performed, come on. Uh, next question. Soma asks “what’s your favorite tv show?” Uh, I loved ‘Band of Brothers’. Um, but, of course, an ex soldier would say that wouldn’t he. Um, psh, yeah, ‘Band of Brothers’. Or, something light and millennial, like, um, I don’t know. Fraiser? Or, uh, Will and Grace?

9:46 John: Sherlock? Favorite tv show?

9:48 Sherlock: This is us.

9:48 John: Really? I never saw it.

9:49 Sherlock: No, Watson! This is us! Quick!

9:52 John: Oh, bollocks, Oh! The doors are closing! Ow!

9:53 *Audio cut-sounds of a tube station/outside*

9:54 John: Misha asks,

9:56 Sherlock: Mmhm?

9:57 John: “Do you have a sweet tooth?” Well, I can tell you, Misha, that yes, he bloody does! Sherlock?

10:02 Sherlock: Yes, I bloody do. *awkward chuckle, sharp intake of breath* Yet, my diet is highly unpredictable and more often then not tied to my mood

10:08 John: Yeah, I can vouch for that. One minute he’s slurping down some borscht on a whim. Next minute, he’s going ten straight days eating tomato penne pasta.

10:16 *sound of a building door opening*

10:19 *sound of the door closing, presumably they’re in the foyer of 221 Baker Street*

10:19 John: *sigh* Uhhh, just trying to find uh…

10:23 Sherlock: Yet more questions?

10:23 *sounds like they’re removing their coats*

10:25 John: Yep. Uh, ooo, questions, right, last one. Uh, “Doctor Watson, hope this question doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Do you use a cane for your leg injury? I use a cane myself due to joint pain from Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. In fact, one of the canes was hand painted by a family in Ukraine during the war.” Well aw! *delighted chuckle* Aw that’s nice. Um, no I don’t use a cane. Uh, I had some surgery, and I was very kindly along with a few others flown out to Florida for some rehabilitation and then back to the UK for some hydrotherapy courtesy of the Ministry of Defense. Uh. Then they sacked me. So, heh, booooo. *chuckles* So, no. I’m actually cane free. But, uh, I have had moments. Especially climbing these bloody stairs *sounds of him stepping heavily up stairs* where I’ve wanted something like that.

11:15 Sherlock: Finished?

11:16 John (slightly out of breath): Finished.

11:17 *sound of a door opening, presumably 221B’s*

11:17 John: Right, say ‘Bye, Listeners’.

11:19 Sherlock: ‘Bye, Listeners’. You know, you do have a rather silly gait. *pause* Walking style. *sound of a door closing* The cane may have been needed. You do look weird when you stroll. Nothing wrong with that of course.

11:32 John (under his breath): For God’s sake.

11:33-12:03 *audio cut to end theme. It’s Mad Prodigy but a different part not used in the main show with a bit of piano.*

END

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #mailbag 1 #transcripts #transcript #mine

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lenaariewrld · 10 months ago

Text

C.27 — lovesick puppy(w)

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WC: 2.4k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

The morning you end up spending with your friends is relaxing. It’s a once-in-a-blue moon event, where all three of you are completely free for a majority of the day. Once you all wake up and get yourselves properly caffeinated, you laze around. You end up telling Cyno and Ganyu about the entire timeline with you and Childe, and all your internal thoughts.

You feel significantly lighter, like a great burden lifted off your shoulders. It’s funny how you never realised just how much keeping all of those tiny details away from your dearest friends had affected you. And then you told them and it was fine. Better than better.

Cyno leaves later in the afternoon for work, and you and Ganyu chill before splitting off for your own activities for the day. You all agree to meet up later at the other woman’s apartment to get ready for the party.

The hours pass by in a breeze, by the time you’re all dolled up you completely forgot any anxieties that had built up in the past few weeks. Worries about your friends and their care for you, worries about childe ajax, worries about your social and academic life. All of it seemed to be much easier to handle when Ganyu waltzed around her living room with you or when Cyno twirled your hair into pigtails while you applied your finishing touches of makeup.

When you finish up, the three of you head out, opting to use an uber rather than having a designated driver. It wasn’t like you were planning on getting too drunk, but better to be safe than sorry in your opinion.

You make it to the party after plugging the address Childe had texted you into your phone. And after a rather slow and awkward conversation with your uber driver.

You three step inside the party, arriving with little introduction. You look around immediately, searching for the familiar head of ginger curls. However, instead of spotting Childe, you notice a couple of his friends through the crowd, mostly able to make out the figures of Ayato and Kaeya. You wave at them. Before you can divert or anything, though, your white-haired friend grabs your hand and pulls you towards the kitchen for some drinks.

“Welcome, we have beer, tequila, or our own special recipe; Santa’s punch!” One of the hockey players you don’t know the name of greets the two of you as you shuffle into the kitchen. He motions to different parts of the counter decorated with cups and buckets of ice. How they set up that much liquor you will never know, but you don’t care to ask.

“Set me up with that punch,” You agree readily, you and Cyno sharing a mischievous look as you take your red plastic cups and clink them together.

Santa’s punch, as it turns out, is one motherfucker of a drink. Be advised to never accept a random named concoction from a frat boy or athlete at a holiday house party. Never.

As you sip from your second refill of the mysterious drink, which was settling a nice warmth and buzz in your chest, you make a couple laps around the party. You knew quite a few people here. Or, at least, quite a few people knew you and came up to strike a conversation with you. You entertained most of them, happy to catch up with classmates or people who listened to your show. A couple more laps in, you get pulled into random games of pong or shot contests.

You dance with Ganyu a couple times, or check on Cyno who happily chats with his roommate and his friends outside, or chat with Childe’s friends whenever you run into them. Eventually, you depart briefly from the party after getting a glass of water from the kitchen, crashing on a nearby couch.

The substances in your system were still a light buzz, but it was starting to reach your head, creeping up the corners of your rational thinking.

You feel the couch dip and hum when you notice Thoma took a seat beside you. “How are you liking the party?” He asks, holding out his glass to clink with yours. You oblige and take a large gulp of your water.

“It’s fun,” You giggle, adjusting yourself to sit up straighter on the couch. “I’m surprised there aren’t more… festivities,” You joke, laughing when Thoma pulls a face. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it was gonna be way worse originally. I talked ‘em out of hanging snowman string lights and putting up inflatable reindeer, though,” He informs you, the both of you sharing a laugh. The both of you continue to chat casually while you relax. He sips from his cup, occasionally. Halfway through some anecdote you’re saying, he perks up when he notices something across the way. You glance in the direction he’s looking in just as he’s stood up, your words forgotten.

“Oh, what the fuck is he doing now…”

Your brows furrow as Thoma whispers under his breath, standing up as well. You notice Kaeya standing by the bigger speakers, where the largest congregation of people are, a microphone in his hand. He clears his throat and the music turns down a little. A couple people boo.

“Sorry, sorry, everyone! I just wanted to make an announcement tonight, because it’s a very special time here,” The man apologises, his words not only catching your interest but seemingly the interest of everyone else in this part of the house. Thoma slips away but you stay put where you are, staring over the crowd at the dark-haired man addressing everyone.

Somehow, it seems like he’s just looking at you as he speaks.

He adjusts his hold on the microphone. “So, you see, I have an exciting update about one of my friends. You all might have heard of him. Mr Tartaglia, aka “Childe”?” Kaeya pauses as quite a few people cheer or respond similarly to his rhetorical question. “Well, recently, I’ve started noticing my friend acting odd. He seems so lighthearted now, way more than he ever was around me or any of us, his friends! And I was thinking, how could he be that way? Then I realized who finally got him out of his shell!”

This time you know Kaeya is looking at you as he speaks, finishing his words by pointing directly at where you’re standing by the couch. Your eyes widen as quite a few people turn their heads, more and more party-goers becoming piqued by the public scene happening right in front of them. “This woman right here!” Kaeya laughs, and though it’s light and charming like usual, it sends chills down your spine.

Why do you feel dread? Why does this feel like an omen?

He tilts his head as he looks over the crowd. “Okay, I can tell a couple of you are confused so let me clue you in on what’s going on,” He dramatically clears his throat and straightens his posture. Now everyone is positively enthralled by his words, his voice calm despite the slight slur and unbalance that he seems to be holding himself up with.

“Childe made a bet with us!” He laughs again, and all of a sudden you feel your chest grow tight. The buzz you had disappears as your blood runs cold, your body feeling a million tons heavier. “He bet us that if he could get Ms Y/n L/n to fall in love with us, he’d get complete control of our band! Despite the fact that he only writes the songs for us, that didn’t stop him! But you know what might?” Kaeya is giggling like a little kid sharing the funniest joke they’ve ever heard as he continues. His words buzz in your ears.

“What might stop him is the fact he’s just a lovesick puppy… Ironic really, given how Y/n over there was supposed to be head over heels for him while he hated her guts.. Or maybe he’s just a really good actor!” Kaeya stumbles a step to the side, but he never looks away from you. He smiles cruelly, his gaze cold as he stares you down. “And if you doubt me, ask how Diluc knew to ask for his help as your co-host–Hey–!” The man’s nonchalant shrug is interrupted as Thoma and Scaramouche rush forward to snatch the microphone away from him, insistently clawing it out of his fingers.

“Sorry everyone! Please ignore him, he’s had too many drinks!” Thoma pleads with an awkward chuckle.

But the damage has been done. Your heart is being squeezed in your chest, growing heavy and cracked as his words sink into your brain and poke their way through the alcohol fog. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the pieces clicking into place a little too neatly.

Childe’s convenient placement as your co-host, his insistence on talking to you, on seeing you, of ‘being on even footing’. Everything seems clear as day now for his true intentions, and suddenly everything becomes a guessing game, requiring a thorough second pass to decipher if you were being fooled all along or if there was any genuine intentions in the man’s actions.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. He still did it. And he, more importantly, didn’t tell you himself.

You feel suffocated in the atmosphere of the party, the eyes of people staring at you becoming too much. Your lungs can’t seem to work properly and your vision is getting fuzzy. Abruptly, you turn to leave, not sparing a glance at anyone or even wasting your time looking for your friends. You simply text them to meet you outside.

You can’t believe it. You shouldn’t.

And yet, it makes too much sense.

You trudge out of the house with your head swimming. The thoughts, snacks, and alcohol swirl around your stomach in a dangerous mix. You can feel the bile crawling up your throat. Thankfully, you stumble towards the lawn just in time to regurgitate your stomach’s contents onto the manicured grass, your breathing heavy. Harsh blinks keep you from completely doubling over, and a hand on each of your knees gives you a moment to catch your breath.

“Y/n? You alright?” Childe’s voice pulls you from the nauseating dizziness of your world and you round on your heels to face him. His face is contorted in concern, worry pinching his lips and brows together.

He was a damn good actor.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” You sneer venom as he reaches out to you, taking a large step back to maintain some distance. He pauses at this, his eyes widening as the crack in your voice, thick with too many emotions getting caught in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” He tries again, holding his hands up as if to show he means no harm. He can tell you’re on edge by the way your arms wrap around yourself, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. And he so desperately wishes you would tell him what was wrong, would let him pull you into his arms and wipe the tears off your pretty face until you feel better.

That doesn’t happen.

“What’s wrong is you’re a piece of shit, Tartaglia.” You seethe, noticing how Childe flinches at the way you say his name. Noticeably not Ajax or Taru, which you’d taken to calling him recently. You’re trying desperately not to sob, your emotions running high enough as is. His presence isn’t making it any better. “Your stupid bullshit, all this playing around with other people, better fucking be worth it. Because you’re going to end up alone carrying on like this,” You scoff, “Not that you care, right? As long as you win a bet,”

You see the color drain from his face, and you almost feel a sick satisfaction from seeing his concern for you morph into some horrified expression. “What did you hear–?”

“Enough,” You cut him off, holding up your hand to keep him from talking. He stands there dumbly, staring at you as you move past him, making your way towards the street.

“Wait, Y/n, let’s talk about this,” He calls after a second, seeming to snap out of his head. He attempts to follow you, but only gets a few steps before the front door slams open. Cyno and Ganyu rush forward into the cold night air.

Cyno stares between the two of you, seeing you taking deep breaths, hiccuping every now and then as your cheeks shimmer with tears. “What the fuck happened?” His voice is cold, and he turns to finally look at Childe, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What did you say?” In a split second, he’s stepped between you and the ginger man, shoving him back when he tries to skirt around Cyno.

“Cy, just leave him alone,” You murmur, leaning into Ganyu’s hold as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. The two men stare each other down, not wanting to move from their spot. “Cyno. Drop it.” You snap this time, calling his attention. He sneers at the ginger before he turns to you, taking you all in. His eyes soften, taking notice of the flush in your cheeks, your eyes red and already starting to get puffy.

“Y/n..” Childe attempts one more time. You glare in his direction. You already felt like shit, your heart dragging by your feet as you mustered the courage to keep walking. You didn’t need him trying to make amends to this shitty situation. You just needed him to leave you alone.

“Don’t ever talk to me,” You declare. Grabbing Cyno and Ganyu’s hands, you march away. The other girl keeps her arms around you, smoothing her hand over your hair while you let your tears fall freely. The three of you walk in silence to the end of the street before calling an uber, the fun atmosphere and lighthearted banter from before disappearing.

You knew, logically, there was a chance Kaeya was just spouting bullshit just to get a reaction and to make a boring night more exciting. But you doubted it. It made too much sense. And besides, how’d he know Diluc was the one who found Childe to be the new co-host if he wasn’t telling the truth? Your chest felt hollow as your thoughts kept circling around this…

Maybe you should’ve kept hating Childe..

———

A/Ns: tada, the reveal!! as always, likes/reblogs/comments are greatly appreciated, lmk ur thoughts or wtv and don't forget to drink some liquid <33

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain @kazumiku @hanilessa @nrviine @wren-art @state-of-grac3

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bon2bonn · 1 year ago

Text

Driver profile : Y/N L/N

Name : Y/N M/N M/L/N

Nicknames : N/N , bella , demon spawn, amour , love , sprout.

Nicknames by fans : Valkyrie, the unofficial official grid mom , Merc queen, red bull princess, angel, f2 grid mom , stargirl .

Age : I estimated her to be around 27 (it's not fixed so you can change it to whatever you like)

Birthday : 23 . October . (Same thing , you can put yours or any other date🤷🏻‍♀️)

Birthplace : Sydney, Australia

Blood type : B+

Languages : fluent in English, french + (language of choice) , basic Dutch , Spanish , and a little bit of Arabic.

Resident : between Monaco, London, New York and Sydney.

Personality : spitfire on track , a power that install fear in the hearts of every team and any driver she's up against , believes in actions and hard work rather than words spewed around , so if you have the balls and nerves to poke her , you better have the results to back you up or you won't see the end of it from her or her fans or the rest of the grid .

Known as The grid keeper/ no#1 mom who keeps them in line but could be found in the midst of chaos leading them with their antics and pranks . off track , she's an introverted small bean that can scare the daylight out of you if you rubbed her the wrong way, shy and closed off is the first impression that everyone gets when meeting her but once you get to know her she's the sweetest and most genuine/spontaneous person you'll ever meet , her RBF hides a gentle kind soul , that makes her the best person to give comfort and assurance even if she denies it. Protective bear of her loved ones and won't stop at anything till she make sure they're okay. She either acts like an old lady that complains about her back and knees , or like a little kid on a sugar rush , it's a normal day to find her around the grid at the most confusing places : climbing motorhomes just because/hiding behind tyres while everyone lose their minds trying to find her /sleeping in an ice tup cause she got too comfortable.

Habits: play with her hands when nervous, pout unconsciously when she's too focused on something, pick at her fingers when uncomfortable/stressed (if close , Charles would give her one of his rings to play with , or others would let her play with their fingers to distract her) , jumps whenever she gets exited, tilt her head when confused, clenches her fists/jaw when she gets irritated ( the guys knows when to interfere to stop her from beating someone), sings/humms absentmindedly through her day , do a little dance when happy, talks to herself in a quiet voice.

Occupation :

Former Formula 1 driver

Years of work : (2015-2022)

Racing biography 🏎️ :

*‌Toro Rosso :

2015 alongside : Max Verstappen #33.

2016 alongside : Carlos Sainz #55.

*‌Renault(alpine) : 2017 alongside : Nico Hülkenberg #27.

*‌Alpha Romeo(sauber) : 2018 alongside : Charles leclerc #16.

‌*Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team : 2019 - July 2022 alongside : Lewis Hamilton #44.

Currently:

• CEO/founder of Ingrid and willows brand (2018-now) .

• CEO and representative of L/N international corps (2022-now) .

•reserved driver for (RBR) Red Bull Racing (2023) .

Hobbies/skills : reading, playing piano, camping, hiking, cooking in general (loves backing) , painting specially with her youngest brother, singing, fast learner , have a very strong memory , is a pro at reading people and could tell their emotions and can almost alway tell when someone's lying , skilled stealthy prankster when provoked (by lando and max)..... .etc .

Family members :

‌father : f/N l/N .

‌mother : m/N M/l/N .

‌older brother: Edward l/N .

‌younger brother: Thomas l/N

Father :

Name : F/N M/N l/N

Occupation: CEO/founder of L/N international corps.

Social status: single father of (Edward , Y/N , Thomas l/N ).

Resident: London , UK.

Name : M/N M/l/N

Occupation: not found.

Social status: not found.

Status: alive .

Resident : Rome, Italy.

Name : Edward/Eddie M/N l/N

Age : 30

Occupation: CEO/founder of wildonwall (a worldwide known professional architectural company that deals in designing/building and supervising projects around the world).

Social Status: married to ( Alison Graham ) , father of two (one boy : Marcus/Marc , one girl : Ingrid/gigi ).

Resident: London , UK.

Name : Thomas/Tommy/ben M/N l/N

Age : 22

Occupation: student of fine arts , Oxford university.

Social status: a single Pringle who don't know how to mingle.

Resident: Monte Carlo , Monaco - London , UK.

Facts and background infos :

‌she's the only daughter of the L/N family , but chose to race with her grandmother's maiden name instead . She wanted to establish herself away from her father's name .

‌very independent , and mature beyond her age .‌

she's the backbone of her family, both her brothers and father own it to her for helping them through their lives .

‌she had a complicated relationship with her mother to say the least, she was the one who suffered the most when she left .

‌her parents split up when she was only 5 . her mom walked away leaving them with her baby brother who was barely months old .

‌her mother tried to forcefully take Eddie (the eldest) along with her while their father was out with Tommy, but he refused to part from his sister , resulting in a very traumatic day for the two kids.

‌she watched her dad as he struggled with taking care of them three , feeling like a failure who couldn't tend to his own children.

‌so she took it up on herself to help him take care, comfort and nurture her baby brother.

‌he tried to get her to live her age but she won't stop worrying about her brother and he won't settle unless she's close .

‌just hearing her voice got him from screaming his lungs out to cooing and giggling.

‌their bond only grew stronger as they grew up .

‌he was at his best behaviour when she's around, forgetting about the tantrums and wailing matches he had with his traumatized babysitter who quit the moment their father came back home .

‌her childhood wasn't the most ideal but she got her family with her and that was more than enough for her.

‌her dad was more than relieved when she finally had interest in something other than studying or taking care of them .

‌he watched as her love for racing grow untill he offered to take her to her first grand Prix.

‌she didn't sleep for days after .

‌daniel was her first friend in the sport .

‌they met through one of her uncles friends back in Australia , both didn't like eachother at all .

she was the quiet observing kid and he was the bouncing ball of energy , but they bonded through their love for racing .

‌she moved to Europe (between UK and France) with her dad where she found more suitable competitions to partake in, but she tried to keep in touch with him through the years , but they both got busy and lost connection.

‌she kept to herself and worked hard to build her skills.

Maintaining a healthy balance between her studies and racing .

‌untill she met some of the kids older/close to her age , most didn't take her seriously and even encouraged her to drop racing . But she also met little max .

Both acknowledged the other but kept their distance on the beginning.

‌the boy was blunt and she was unfazed.

‌they respected the other hard work and we're motivated to beat eachother at every race.

‌they surprisingly became best friends with time .

‌both acting too mature for their own good but unknowingly, they both got eachother to act their age as they grew closer .

‌they gave eachother tips and pointers as they sat away from the others before every race they were in together .

‌he'd talk her ears off after every race explaining every detail and every corner and she'd patiently listen to him , adding her own opinion here and there .

‌they were at eachother neck every race, but their friendship was as strong as it could be.

‌they celebrated the winner and encouraged the loser , both hated to lose , but they raced fairly.

‌she got discovered by Christian , and found her way to red bull academy program, Max a year after her .

‌and guess who's there ? Daniel Joseph Ricciardo.

‌they reunited after years , both inseparable even more when she got a seat at Toro rosso .

‌the team was on the brink of a collective breakdown, they already had Seb to worry about , now add those two with Max?

‌cue chaos and mischief , sirens going off with Seb laughing and Christian screaming in the background.

‌fernando saw her and declared war upon whoever dares to hurt this small bean .

Forming a small protection squad (more like him forcing Seb Kimi and Jenson to participate)

Kimi got robbed into it , he didn't even know until he found himself along with the others planning to slash a reporter tires for calling her slow and ignorant .

He thought they were getting coffee !?!! .

‌she was supposed to move to red bull in 2016 but Marko opposed, max was promoted instead, and she left to Renault the following season.

‌in 2018 she moved to alpha Romeo (saubar) alongside Charles leclerc .

Rookie Charles was low-key scared of her , he knew her from their carting days but still felt uneasy with her quiet personality and focused mentality.

The first time they met was a disaster at it's finest.

But she knew how tense and overwhelmed rookies could be in their first season so she tried her best to help him through it .

‌it was an exhausting season but they both survived .

Charles moved to Ferrari and her to Mercedes.

‌Toto offered her a Merc seat for 2019 .

‌lewis had his share of teammates and it didn't end well to say the least with his former friend/teammate (RIP brocedes) or valtteri after .

‌so when she first came in it didn't go well for her .

‌both her and Lewis are hardheaded and closed off, refusing to acknowledge the other Or give in to know eachother.

‌they stayed professional and moved out of the other's way, untill she came around, finding him in the back of his driver's room, sitting on the floor , his head on his hands after a shitty with a dnf .

‌she kept quiet and sat down with him letting him have his moment of silence but assuring he don't have to be alone .

‌after an hour or so, she took out her phone , showing him her family dog pics and videos , getting him to crack a smile and even few laughs before she let him talk about his own Roscoe, promising to let her meet him when they go to Silverstone.

‌the roles reversed when he found her in an empty office at the back of the garage , she got an earful from Toto and couldn't get a word in , her notes are always dismissed and her engineer wasted time until it's too late to listen.

‌he sat beside her, letting her lean on his shoulder in a way of comfort , letting her play with his rings to calm down.

‌they built a support system . and it resulted in building a solid foundation for a dynamic team.

But that won't mean she'll let her work go to waste because of the team's orders.

... : Y/N.

Y/N : yes?

James : Y/N, This is James, listen.....

Y/N : no James! You listen! Just because..........

Her radio messages never disappoint.

Yeah they give her a hard time , but they didn't know what was waiting for them .

She adapted quickly to the new team and their methods of work , it went as well as it could be up to 2021 .

Shit hit the fan and she almost die/quit .

But she stayed put , ending the season in 3d 🥉.

2022 things moved up a little, with her chances of getting the championship almost equalling Max's, him being ahead with only 24 point .

But Mercedes had their own plans.

Mid-season change in plans Leading to her leaving/getting replaced with George Russell , concluding her journey with Mercedes AMG team.

*Let me know if I missed something ✨

#weathering your storm #wys #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #22!f1 grid x reader #23!f1 grid x reader #f1 au!

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