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harrysloveboat · 8 months

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John B’s Girl | JJ Maybank Fic

Summary: JJ Maybank was absolutely screwed. So detrimentally screwed. John B was going to actually end him. The blonde haired surfer had a thing for his best friend’s girl, (Y/N) Cameron. And when JJ notices something he shouldn’t, all bets are off.

Word Count: 6.8K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, cheating, dirty talking, thigh riding, car sex, mention of toys, alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), degrading, Dark!JJ, JJxReader, John BxReader, Cameron!Reader, sprinkles of fluff included, I think I might’ve made Dark!John B too by accident, etc.

Please read warnings before continuing. Really tempted to make a second part if anyone wants it! The ending kinda makes me think a second part is just necessary. Mostly unedited.

Constructive criticism and requests open on my page. I write about Harry, 5SOS, Outer Banks, and TSITP! Thank you x

It’s been an entire week of watching (Y/N) Cameron unraveling before JJ’s blue eyes.

JJ has no idea how the girl got herself into this predicament, and he certainly doesn’t understand how he’s been the only one out of his friends to notice what’s been going on between John B and his girlfriend.

Actually he does understand why, but he refuses to admit it. How could he ever come clean about the way his body ached when she was near? Or how his heart thumped out of his chest when she would accidentally brush her bare skin against his during hot summer days on the H.M.S. Pogue. Even the tender way she’d brush loose strands of blonde hair from his forehead in passing would send shocks of electricity to every corner of his body.

But this annoyingly long week was painfully different from the rest.

(Y/N) had done something on Monday.

JJ wasn’t sure what, but he knew something she had done had sent John B off the deep end. Because for the whole day, John B wouldn’t spare a kind glance her way. No matter how many times she’d initiate a conversation, nudge his arm, intertwine their hands, or even sit on his lap, John B was an absolute rock. His responses were short and curt and his eyes would focus on anything but her.

The next day is when John B really enacted his revenge.

(Y/N) was doing everything she could to get back into his good graces. That morning, she woke up early to stop at the grocery store. Buying so many things that JB’s fridge was fully stocked when she returned.

Breakfast was her first attempt. There was bacon crisping in the oven, sending a mouthwatering aroma to every Pogue in The Chateau. She was scrambling eggs on the stovetop for everyone, with a smaller pan on the side that contained eggs with cheese. By the time the toast was popping out of the toaster oven, everyone had come alive with growling stomachs.

JJ and Pope had dug right in, surprised but also very wonderfully pleased by the first home cooked meal they’d had in a while. Kie had given her a big hug first, requesting that (Y/N) wake her up next time to lend her a hand. But even as John B was served his favorite eggs with cheese for just him, he gave them the tiniest nibble, before pushing his plate away.

“Not hungry,” he shrugged moving on to a refreshing morning shower instead with even as much as a sympathetic glance back.

Kie and Pope were lost in conversation, but JJ had been a witness to it all. More than anything, he noticed the way her entire demeanor deflated as John B stalked off. The excited glint in her eyes was extinguished in haste. The crinkles at the corner of her eyes vanished alongside her smile. His heart squeezed at the sight. JJ had wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and pepper her with millions of soft, thankful kisses. Nothing she could’ve done would’ve been enough for JJ to evoke the same reaction out of her if she was his.

That afternoon, however, is when things took a completely opposite direction.

Energized by their hearty breakfast, they all decided it was a perfect sunny day to do some fishing and swimming. Kie and Pope had canonballed into the clear blue water when it happened. JJ was grabbing a beer from the cooler as (Y/N) sat next to John B who was laying on a towel, perched at the front of the boat.

She had leaned down to speak something privately into his ear. Except he shook his head, face devoid of any emotion. “You’ve been a bad girl (Y/N). You don’t deserve any attention,” his hushed dismissal was the only thing JJ managed to catch. The pout on her plump lips and furrowed eyebrows told JJ everything he needed to know. The gears clicked together in his head almost too quickly.

(Y/N), out of all people, had a praise kink that John B was currently exploiting.

The realization went straight to his crotch, his swimming trunks horribly constricting for the entire day. It made so much sense. She aimed to please, getting so excited when someone was happy with something she did. He honestly felt foolish for not catching on sooner. If someone asked JJ if he jacked off to her sweet voice begging him to destroy her in his imagination, he would immediately deny it.

By Wednesday, JJ was hooked.

There was no conversation that could capture his focus for long. Every moment of his time was devoted to her. The urges JJ had to rush to her and be her new source of comfort were becoming overwhelming but so was the need to bend her over any flat surface. He was on the verge of being diagnosed as bipolar with the amount of times his mood would swing. Every disheartened expression or bite of a lip had JJ physically twitching to remedy her frustration. But anytime she’d sit on John B’s lap and search for forgiveness with gentle touches and suggestive whispers, JJ would have to excuse himself to hide the new semi he was sporting.

(Y/N) and John B cuddled together during a movie night on Thursday evening. JJ thought for a split second that (Y/N) had finally wormed her way through John B’s walls. It didn’t even make sense to him how his best friend had managed to hold out for so long when she was completely irresistible. A little part of him was curious to know what she had done that originally started this. What had angered JB enough to drag this punishment out? By the relaxed tone throughout the movie, he figured he’d never get the answer to that question. At least he’d be able to go back to regular conversations instead of consistently excusing himself to the restroom.

But of course, JJ never seems to catch a break.

Kie had disappeared from the living room at some point to sleep in the guest bedroom. Choosing a comfortable bed over morning neck pain. Pope was on the couch, mouth drooling onto the cushion that was propped under his head. JJ had been basically forced into the sleeping bag on the floor with one measly pillow. Aside from the discomfort of the wooden floor, he had managed to fall into a deep sleep. There was a sudden noise lulling him awake.

Soft, harsh pants stirred him from his dreams.

The movie was still playing on the screen, but the volume had been turned down to leave background noise. Even with the quiet chatter, JJ heard the distinct, “please John B,” that fell from (Y/N)‘s lips followed by an angry scoff. His blue eyes peeked open, just the slightest bit, only to feel like he could pass out from what was occurring on the single seat next to the couch.

(Y/N) was sitting on John B’s thigh, hips grinding down at a rapid pace to chase her end. All the while JB was focused on the screen not paying any mind to the horny girl riding him. JJ could see the wet stains on her cheeks, beads of sweat falling down her forehead. She was moving with urgency, obviously close to her orgasm.

“Can’t believe you have the audacity to beg me to touch you after what you did,” John B muttered furiously in response to her. The only crack in his hard interior that let JJ know he was affected by (Y/N)’s actions was the tight grip at her hip. His other hand was lazily holding the remote on the beige armrest to exaggerate his disinterest. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” she pleaded as her hips faltered. The closer she got to her end, the haze in her mind would betray her. Slowing her movements just as she was on the verge of falling into the abyss and traitorously bringing her back.

He snicked at her, feeling her feeble attempts to get herself off on his thigh. She had wet through her panties hours ago, drenching John B’s thigh and the inner corners of hers. Her apologies were falling on deaf ears. “I’m not helping you. You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum when you’ve been such a bad girl. Sluts like you don’t deserve it.” His filthy words were what did it. Instead of being put off by them, the quickening of her pace and quiet whine that escaped her lips let JJ know that she enjoyed being degraded.

(Y/N)’s movement came to a sharp halt, thighs squeezing around John B as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Her entire body tensed up, face twisting in pleasure. Underneath the over-sized t-shirt her shoulders shook slightly. For the sake of not being caught by the others, it took all her strength to keep the noises at bay while threatening to spill over at any given moment. JJ thinks he might be the one to beg to hear those sounds next. She collapsed against him, scratching at his chest with a small cry when he grinded up against her overstimulated pussy.

JJ didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

He found himself in the shower again hours later, fisting his cock repeatedly until he was cumming harder than he ever thought he could.

Friday night was finally the last nail hammered into his coffin.

The party was booming, every Kook, Pogue, and Touron joining together for an epic get together at the Boneyard. Alcohol was influencing the rager, people dancing around the bonfire with high spirits. They had all ridden in the Twinkie together but gradually dispersed throughout the night. Pope was trying, and failing, to flirt with a brown-haired Touron who was too drunk to understand. She was cute but clueless. Kie was dancing in the crowd with John B, enjoying the music and winding down from an eventful day at The Wreck. She was oblivious to the fact that the nonchalant guy in front of her wasn’t paying a lick of attention.

JJ was leaning against a palm tree, crushing a can of beer in his hand. He had been in a fowl mood all day, snapping at everyone over the smallest of inconveniences. He couldn’t help it, nothing he had done was able to satisfy his persistent hard-on. Any time (Y/N) was within his eyesight, even momentarily, all the blood would rush down between his legs. Every hair flip made JJ want to grab it into a ponytail and tug hard. Inches of exposed skin silently requesting to be marked by his teeth. JJ was so sexually frustrated that he was honestly considering taking some girl home tonight.

The idea was tempting as his blue irises raked through the crowd. There were some good options available. Sophie, his old friends with benefits, had been eyeing him all night. A red haired girl had flirted with him when he retrieved his second beer. Shit there was even a drunk Kook that had been throwing herself at him if push came to shove. Still, none of them were what he actually craved deep in his bones. Subconsciously, JJ found the girl he had been really after.

(Y/N) was seated on a log in front of the fire wearing a white flowy dress that ended at the middle of her thighs. It had two straps at the top that tied behind her neck. She was free of make-up, her natural features mesmerizing JJ even from a distance. Her silky hair was blowing past her shoulders in the soft night breeze.

The fire lit up her face with hues of red and orange. Her head was tilted up slightly, eyes sealed shut. She seemed distracted, mind far away from the craziness surrounding her. JJ’s head shifted to the side in curiosity as he noted the odd behavior. He watched as (Y/N) pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down harshly. Her hands had a death-like grip on the wood below her. Something was clearly wrong.

A surge of worry passed by JJ, wondering if the girl was okay. This week had been rougher on her than any of the other Pogues knew. He was the only one besides John B that was aware of the inner turmoil she was experiencing. This meant, Kie, (Y/N)’s best friend and confidante wasn’t clued into this secret that JJ had unintentionally stumbled upon. There was no way she could know the girl needed somebody. Deciding that he needed to take it upon himself to check up on her, JJ’s legs moved before his brain did.

He took a couple of strides in her direction with no decipherable sentence coming to mind. JJ had to think a little more instead of acting on a whim. He found comfort for his nerves in the red hat being snugly placed on his hair backwards before finally sitting down next to her. “Hey, you okay?” JJ’s tone held more compassion than usual, opting to rip off the band aid. Their normal playful banter was replaced by genuine emotion that JJ was struggling to contain.

(Y/N) didn’t even notice him sit until his voice was bringing her back from the pleasure she was floating off into. Her eyes were dark, filled with lust as they landed on JJ’s. Now that he was actually sitting next to her, able to properly focus and analyze her behavior, the color drained from his face as he became all too aware. Her thighs were pressed together tightly, nails digging into the wood. (Y/N) was breathing heavily, vibrations from the plug John B had inserted before leaving The Chateau were teasing her. Her boyfriend held the remote to the stupid thing and he had been turning it off and on all night. Sometimes she’d be in a casual conversation and have to excuse herself because he’d purposefully turn on the highest setting. Even making her spill a little bit of beer down her chin in front of Kie.

By now, (Y/N) was desperate. She was squirming in her seat, holding back the pornographic moans this device had taken her to. After withholding sex from her the entire week and choosing to insert this new toy he had purposefully disappeared earlier to buy, she was like a rabid animal. The intensity of repeatedly being brought to the brink and then cut off had broken any sense of normalcy she had managed to maintain. The fiery passion in her eyes was undeniable. “I-I’m okay- yeah,” (Y/N) practically squeaked out, one hand moving to crumble the hem of her dress in a fist.

John B was insatiable from where he stood. Although he was well aware of the state he had led his girlfriend into, just the sight of JJ sitting next to her set him off. His hand reached into his jean pocket, clasping the cheap plastic and turning on the max speed with several clicks to the plus sign on the right. It was stupid and idiotic, but the jealousy that flared didn’t let him act clearly.

(Y/N) tried to contain a gasp as her body jumped slightly at the sudden change. She knew exactly what John B was doing. He was marking his territory in front of JJ, who by the look in his face obviously knew what was going on. Without an inkling about how JJ felt, John B was still going out of his way to prove (Y/N) was his. Making her cum inches away from his best friend.

JJ knew it. Saw her eyes roll to the back, her mouth drop open and nose scrunch up. The pleasure overcame her body. The orgasm ripped through her body after being edged for so long. Her toes curled as John B forced her to ride out her high in front of him with no mercy. She was unable to hide the twitch of her thighs. Tears from the pleasure mixed in with embarrassment. JJ was frozen, rock solid in his cargo shorts. His face gave nothing away except his acknowledgment of the situation. The words to describe the hunger he felt had yet to be invented. At the same time his outrage at John B’s intentional deed simmered over.

The tension in the air was palpable with deafening silence consuming them. There was no ounce of awkwardness with the way both of them were stuck in their heads. She swallowed hard, looking away as her bottom lip trembled. Seeing as John B had no intentions of turning it off, only lowering the setting, she chose to retreat. There was no explanation that could hide or sugarcoat the truth. (Y/N) got up muttering an unintelligible excuse before she was disappearing behind the fire with a walk of shame.

JJ’s entire body was hot with adrenaline and need. A primal need to fuck the girl into oblivion was no longer in his control. The pure desire radiating off her body had pushed JJ past the boundary of respect. John B smirking victoriously towards Kie did nothing to aid JJ, only encouraged him to follow in the path that (Y/N) had headed towards.

She had found safety next to the Twinkie, crying freely into the crease of her elbow against the window. The vibrator was still going, overstimulating her yet she knew better than to take it out without being told to. John B had gone too far, giving in to the green eyed monster that veered his head. Her body was almost clinging to the van at this point when calloused fingers ran up the back of her thigh.

The warm touch alerted her to the presence of somebody behind her. (Y/N)’s back arched slightly on instinct, finally getting what she was craving. She felt so depraved, so starved. Just a simple graze had goosebumps spreading like wildfire. “John B- please- I-I can’t anymore. Take it out,” she cried pathetically, begging for some form of release.

JJ groaned at the tone of her voice, so ready and desperate. It was taking all his willpower to not bend her over right now and ram himself inside of her. Without speaking, his hand continued to travel up her thigh painfully slow. In her daze she missed the hesitancy in the touch that would’ve been hasty and quick had it been John B. His eyes were trained on the dress that was hiking up, exposing a delicious set of red lace panties. Precum stained his boxers just from the sight. JJ grabbed a handful of her ass cheek tightly, reveling in the way she pushed her ass out to him and whined.

“I’m gonna warn you right now (Y/N). If I’m the one that takes it out, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to forget what his name is,” JJ growled into her ear, hot breath washing over her hypersensitive skin. (Y/N) recognized the voice immediately, feeling the cold rings that belonged to this particular Pogue cooling her ass through the pain of the grip. Her forehead fell onto the window, a pitiful whimper responding to JJ’s offer. It was wrong, so so wrong. But the bulge pressing into her ass had her eyes fluttering shut.

JJ’s logic had quite literally left planet Earth. The only thing on his mind was her. The fear of rejection wasn’t even present. His hand confidently found a home in the curve of her hip, squeezing it tightly as he ground his cock into her ass pushing her further against the van. They both moaned, any hesitation fully dissipating with the wind.

“Take it out- take it out JJ,” she gasped, his name sounding like heaven as it fell from her lips. His new mission was to hear her scream it. JJ moved with newfound purpose, flipping her over harshly before he crouched down. “Hold your dress up and spread your legs,” the dominant tone of JJ’s voice sent a new rush of slickness down her thighs.

This was JJ, her boyfriends best friend, pulling down her panties in one swift move and licking his lips ready to devour her. “JJ please,” she was so vocal, feeding into his own filthy nature. What really almost made him cum in his black boxers was the sight before him. Her pussy was glistening, wrapped tightly around the softly buzzing vibrator. Her clit was swollen, puckering and aching. He licked his lips, imprinting this image in his brain.

JJ grabbed onto the end of it, teasingly pulling it out of her and back in which earned him a breathless moan. Her hips pushed down against it automatically, chasing the feeling. “You’ve been such a good girl all night, taking it so well,” JJ’s words had her free hand gripping the handle to the door. Without even letting her process it, his fingers were replacing the vibrator which found solace in JJ’s back pocket.

He shoved two fingers in deep, coating them with her previous orgasm in a matter of seconds. JJ nudged every corner, hitting every spot reachable in this position. He moved with skill, determination clear in the way his lips wrapped around her nub and sucked. (Y/N)’s breath was knocked out of her lungs at the sensation. Her jaw slacks from the pleasure as the spark at the pit of her belly grows into an untamable fire. JJ moved like a man who needed this to survive. He flattened his tongue against her clit, the tip poking into the entrance where his fingers were sliding in and out with ease. Finally tasting her sweetness forced a moan to ripple through him and into her.

(Y/N)’s head fell back against the window hard enough to hurt and yet she didn’t feel it at all. All her senses were hyper focused on the man between her legs. Each flicker of his tongue would make her knees go out. She would’ve been on the ground already had it not been for JJ’s hand digging into her thigh to keep her up as well as open. A particular curve of his finger had a high pitched noise tumbling out. JJ didn’t miss a beat, continuing with a new rhythm as he memorized what made her walls clench around him.

“I-I’m gonna- JJ, fuck,” she couldn’t even finish her sentence but he knew exactly what she was going to say. Everything became blurry, her chest heaving from the change in his movements. The muscles in her thighs tense, attempting to close subconsciously but JJ refuses to let them. His fingers dig into her thigh so hard they’ll be bruises in the shape of his hand tomorrow. Her climax was rapidly approaching, knot tightening in her abdomen.

His tongue circled her relentlessly. Everything wrong with what they were doing secretly inflamed her heat. (Y/N)’s mind went hazy from the increasing thrusts of his fingers. The pleasure exploding inside of her in a gut twisting way. JJ watched her face twist from the blissful waves causing her eyes to close. The intensity made her mind go blank as a string of curses were spoken. He forced her to ride out her high by lapping up everything that landed on his tongue. He savored the taste, unforgivingly continuing until her body was shaking from the stimulation.

(Y/N) didn’t even get a break. She was unable to catch a breath with JJ’s merciless assault. Her hand moved from the door to his head, pushing the cap off in favor of grabbing his blonde hair. He finally eased up when he was satisfied, pulling his mouth away and not hesitating to lick his lips. “Taste so fucking good princess,” JJ breathed out while his fingers gradually came to a stop. She squeezed his hair, a whimper coming out. It was hard to believe this was JJ Maybank below her, eyes gleaming after eating her out alive.

He stood up, moving the hand that had left imprints to fist her loose hair and tilt her head up. “Suck it off my fingers,” he demanded. The authoritative tone left her with no option but to open her mouth. Her tongue slipped between the two fingers sucking them clean without breaking eye contact. JJ’s already darkening eyes were pitch black now, hints of blue disappearing at her eagerness.

“You like that don’t you? Sucking your cum off my fingers. Wonder how your little boyfriend would feel if he saw you right now,” JJ taunted her. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes but her thighs moved to shut. JJ’s knee shot out before they could, grinding up against her overly sensitive mound. He was rewarded with a delicious moan that reminded him of his leaking member that was still trapped. “Say it princess. Whose gonna fuck you and make you cum a second time in a row?” The fingers that were in her mouth moved to wrap around her throat. He gave her the freedom to speak, his forehead dangerously close to hers. Their lips could meet if she moved just a little closer. The curiosity to find out what kissing him would feel like distracted her. The soft squeeze at her throat broke her out of the trance, reminding her to respond.

(Y/N) nodded for no reason, hips pushing down against JJ’s thigh to show how much she still wanted him. “You JJ. You’re gonna fuck me and make me cum again. Please- want it so bad, want your cock inside of me,” the neediness in her tone sent JJ into a frenzy. No imagination could come close to the real thing. His neck shot forward, their lips molding together in a passionate kiss. They moved in sync while JJ’s hand slid down, pulling at the strings of her dress to undo the knot in a swift move. His hand skimmed further down, kneading and squeezing every inch of her skin from her curves to her ass.

She was mewling in his mouth, every caress weakening her. It was hard to feel guilty with the way the rough pads of his fingers ran across her scorching hot skin. Her hands moved to unbutton his shorts falling prey to her desires. “Need it J,” the sincerity is what snapped him back into action.

JJ untangled their bodies to open the Twinkie, taking her hand so that she was standing in front of him and could go in first. Without saying it, he placed his palm at the center of her back. A soft push let her know to get onto all fours on the soft fabric of the seats. The van door slammed shut behind them before he was shoving his clothes off with urgency. A thought lit up like a light bulb inside his head as he finished undressing.

“If you want me to give you what needy sluts like you deserve, you need to answer my question,” JJ stated seriously as his hands tucked under the top of her dress. Now with the strap off, he was able to peel off the dress from top to bottom. The panties that had only been able to reach her mid thigh before JJ lost it, slipped off alongside the dress. Confusion settled into (Y/N)’s expression. Her right cheek was pressed into the seat, only getting a small glimpse of JJ’s face. “I’ll answer anything JJ please,” the apprehension as to what the question could be was drowned out by the throbbing between her legs. The anticipation was eating her alive and he was on an unholy plight to push every single one of her buttons.

JJ smirked devilishly while leaning down to press his bare chest against her back. His cock was standing up, solid from days of built up tension. He slid between her wet folds, earning moans from the both of them. “What did you do that made John B so mad?” He whispered into her ear before resting his forehead on the back of her head. His lips ghosted over the skin at the nape of her neck sending chills down her spine. It took a moment for her to put together what he was saying. The realization dawned on her face, unable to admit what he wanted to hear. JJ’s suspicion grew with the way her breathing stuttered.

“Doesn’t matter J, just fuck me,” she attempted to sway him away from the topic but being told to ignore it only made him more persistent. “Ah, ah,” he tsked in a disapproving tone. JJ moved his hips to continue teasing her, gradually sliding between her lips and get himself wet with all her juices. He’d move so far down that his tip would just barely nudge against her hole and then proceed to slide back. His hands disappeared around (Y/N)’s sides, grabbing hold of her breasts and massaging them roughly. His fingertips found her already hardened nipples, tugging and pulling to get his point across. “You want me to fuck your tight cunt? You’re gonna have to tell me sweet girl. Because I’ll walk away right now.”

(Y/N) whined in frustration. JJ’s attempts to make her comply worked all to well. Her heart was racing with impatience and every nerve ending was shot. She could feel just how long and big he was. It made her tighten pathetically around nothing. She wanted to cry to express the distress she was feeling. His hands played at her nipples, fogging her mind up even further. A high pitched noise waved the white flag as she gave in to his attack. The risk of JJ leaving right now outweighed the shitstorm that inevitably followed the truth. “I flirted with you Sunday night.”

JJ paused, his hope flourishing into fact. What JJ had deemed a concocted idea was in fact more than just a sexually fueled imagination.

(Y/N) walked into the kitchen, hair wet from a recent shower. Despite an exhausting day surfing at the beach, she still managed to walk with a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. Her attitude was always contagious and distracting. “Hey J, not coming out for the movie?” she questioned, digging into the freezer. All the Pogues were camped out in the living room to watch a new movie while JJ was perched on the counter top with a beer in hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair, watching as she pulled out the last chocolate fudge bar which halted his answer. His eyebrow raised as she whirled around to him. She removed the plastic casing with no rush in the world, before wrapping her plump lips around the bar. JJ’s blue eyes trailed downwards, captivated by the way she bobbed her head up and down in such a suggestive way. Her question was long forgotten with a lick of his dry lips.

“That’s my bar,” JJ stated avoiding a comment on the affect her actions were having on him. He was also technically correct. Nobody else ate the fudge bars except for him. Although, he had been noticing that he was reaching the end of the box quicker than normal. Apparently he discovered the culprit. It was hard to actually take it seriously though, not when he could swear there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Like she purposefully put on a show for him.

(Y/N) simply tilted her head to side biting her bottom lip. “And what are you going to do about it?” The question was innocent. Yet it sounded so risqué. Like she was tempting him to take it further than that. His muscles twitched to grab her right there. But John B clearing his throat from the kitchen entrance snapped JJ out of whatever that was.

He was too consumed by her lips, her doe eyes, the way her cheeks hollowed around the bar, all of it. JJ had barely noticed John B in that moment. The thought that he might’ve heard or seen anything didn’t even cross JJ’s mind. He just quickly got up and rushed past them to the living room. He had written the whole thing off. It was easier to convince himself that he had probably imagined the whole thing rather than feeding into a delusion where she had actually teased him.

JJ had been so right though. He had read her cues perfectly. Not only had she been flirting with him, but it was also the reason that John B was infuriated. The more he dwelled on the thought, the more his heart thumped louder. They all joked and flirted amongst themselves, John B did with Kie. It was all harmless. So John B getting mad at this moment meant he felt threatened by JJ. Like (Y/N) had given him a reason to worry.

The admission made something snap inside of JJ. A flood of emotions surged forward as the dam he had built to contain them collapsed under the strength of her honesty. He quickly removed his hands from her body to lift himself up. As promised, JJ lined himself up with her slick entrance. Any desire to see her down on her knees would have to be put on hold for next time. There was no way he could put this off any longer. He took just a second to nudge his tip passed the barrier and back to hear the starved whimper that she was unable to hold in. Finding sick pleasure in her shameless need for him. “Please JJ.” Without warning, right after she spoke, he slammed his hips forward. He forget everything except the feeling of being enveloped by velvety tight walls. A loud moan mixed in with a deep groan could be heard from outside the van. He reached deep into her like this, taking her breath away.

The grip around his cock could make him pass out. He muttered an inaudible cuss word, not giving her a second to adjust. JJ pulled out to the tip before shoving himself back inside her and repeating the motion until it grew into a consistent pace. (Y/N) was a broken record of moans and pleas. With every thrust her hips would rut back into him. The anticipation had been replaced with numbing pleasure. Her eyes couldn’t focus on a single thing, completely overwhelmed. His fingers tangled into her hair, shoving her further into the seat.

JJ used the new support to deepen and harden his pace. His hips were jolting into her and sending her forward each time. JJ was failing to hold back, milking every noise out of her sweet lips. The vibrator that was still in the pocket of his shorts that were now located on the floor began to vibrate loudly. JJ smirked viciously, digging into her hip for assistance to ram into her, admiring the way her swollen pussy swallowed his cock in between them. “Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock,” JJ coed before his breath hitched at the tight squeeze his words evoked.

It shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did but she couldn’t help it. Her body reacted before she could. His lewd words reached kinks (Y/N) didn’t even know existed within her. She cried out as his balls slapped against her clit, shooting pangs of intense pleasure up her body. Her legs would be giving out soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep this up. Feeling (Y/N)’s end approaching, JJ fisted her hair and pulled her up against his chest with ease. “Who owns your pretty pussy now (Y/N)?” he panted, his hot breath fanning over the back of her neck at the new proximity.

(Y/N) moaned out loudly as he pounded back into her in this new position. He broke her train of thought before she even had a chance to think of a reply. The hand at her hip smoothed upward, pausing to grope her boob roughly. Her back arched in response with a sharp gasp before he finally landed on her throat. JJ squeezed, digging his fingers into her pressure point and loosening it to remind her to speak. “You JJ. JJ Maybank owns me and my pussy,” (Y/N) yelped hand moving to grip onto the seat while the other reached back into JJ’s blonde locks. JJ growled, increasing his pace when she jumped forward at a certain shift in angle.

Her eyes were glazing over as the fingers at her neck tightened. Their bodies molded together in a matching rhythm. Her hips jutted down to meet every single one of his upward strokes. JJ was using the grip on her neck to lift and slam her back into him. The filthy sounds of their bodies smacking together was the only thing heard in the foggy van. “So fucking tight,” JJ mutters, lips moving to suck a hickey into the back of her neck. Now that he had discovered how close she was with the way her body quivered in his grasp, he wrecked his way inside of her.

Knowing it was a bad idea, (Y/N)‘s head had still tilted to allow him room to mark her. She was a mess of endless mewls and echoed moans, too dazed by the way he was manhandling her. Her end was quickly building, eyes rolling as she fell back onto the curve of his shoulder. His hand left her hair to explore down the middle of her chest. He trailed a finger down her stomach before finally reaching the top of her pussy. His hand cupped her, fingers wrapping around her opening that was still engulfed by his twitching cock. He palmed at her clit, eliciting a loud cry from (Y/N).

“Beg me to make you cum like he can’t,” JJ slowed his hand to show he’d stop in a scarily calm way, making tears spill over from how hopeless she felt. At this point (Y/N) needed the sweet relief as much she needed oxygen in her lungs. “You already made me cum harder than he ever has-,” her breath caught as he dug his palm into her swollen clit at the confession, “I’m all yours JJ- please make me cum.” That was all he needed to apply just enough pressure to leave (Y/N) sputtering. Her eyes went black as the ferocity of her orgasm left her seeing stars. Her entire body writhed from the intensity. JJ groaned at the way her walls tightened around him. She was drifting into clouds of bliss while riding out her high.

It all encouraged him further to his own end. He removed his hand from her beyond sensitive clit to lay her down fully onto her stomach. JJ’s back stayed pressed against her, not slipping out in the slightest bit. With the new position, her walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t refrain from snapping his hips up to bring the unrelenting speed back to life. This time he was chasing his own end, using her warm hole to get himself off. (Y/N) was incoherent under him, utterly fucked out. “That’s it take it,” his hips lost rhythm, “take all my cum,” jerking upwards desperately. He moaned loudly into her ear, thick ropes of his cum painting her insides.

She shuddered feeling him stop as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing with every drop her clenching pussy squeezed out. They were both panting, the temperature in the van was absurdly high. His sweaty body gave out, hiding her naked one under his. She found the weight of it comforting in her post orgasmic fog. It took her a few minutes to properly come back. JJ had leaned up now, pressing electrifying open-mouthed kisses against the dips of her upper back. His hips shifted a little, earning a broken moan from the girl below him.

When he began to move, she leaned back, not wanting to end the fantasy bubble they had created. JJ shushed her with a small smack to her ass that made her jump. Both of them groaned at the sudden movement and he gripped the redden skin where his hand had just spanked. His other hand had vanished under the seat, reaching for vibrator that was still going off wildly. Her pussy spasmed in fear of the vibration inside of her again after the fucking he had just put her through. “Fuck Princess,” JJ hissed almost pinching her ass from the sensitivity.

The one act of kindness JJ had showed (Y/N), was flicking the manual switch to off on the device.

His fingers looped around the end of it, sitting up carefully.

Her ears perked up as the vibrating came to a stop. “JJ what are you doing?” (Y/N)’s shaky, fucked out voice rang through the silence. JJ felt no need to respond pulling out in one swift go. The feeling of emptiness didn’t settle because he was pumping the vibrator back into her, refusing to let any of the evidence vanish. Her muscles tightened, enduring the continued stimulation with a small puff.

“As much as I want to watch my cum drip out of your wrecked cunt..,” JJ’s voice drifted off as his blue irises dropped to the round curve of her ass. He was mesmerized by her worn out body. The marks he had left were giving in to his ego. His hand tenderly rubbed the skin down her back and squeezed at her butt. He’ll never get enough of the feeling.

“You’re gonna keep this vibrator in until John B undresses you at The Chateau. He’s gonna think he’s won, having made you cum in front of me, out of my reach. Then he’s gonna spread your bruised thighs. Shit he’ll even wonder why the vibrator could possibly be turned off. Then when he pulls it out, all of my cum is gonna drip out of his girls pussy for him.”

*****

Read Part 2 here

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please like, comment, or reblog💕

There will probably be 4 or 5 parts to this. If you’d like to be added to the taglist and kept up to date with this mini-series please comment below🫶🏼

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theemporium · 2 months

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hi!! i have a potential blurb request - Oscar having that "oh my god i love her" moment with reader

ily and i hope you're doing well <33

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It hit him at the most random, mundane moment—which was ironic, considering it completely turned his world around.

He was still fighting the lingering effects of jet lag when you invited him over to hang out. He knew Mark would have wanted him to be responsible, to sleep and not fuck up his sleep schedule any further. He was still getting used to how taxing the life of a Formula One driver was, and he underestimated how heavily travel and jet lag would play into that.

But it had been so long since he had seen you. And maybe it was guilt or maybe it was his own selfish desire, but he found himself throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his keys and heading to your place before the universe somehow stopped him.

It was no different to the million other days you hung out together. Absolutely nothing different that he had come to expect in the last fifteen or so years you two had been friends. He showed up, knocked four times, waited for you to open the door and settled himself on his side of your coach whilst you did the same.

There was nothing special about the day, or the moment. But it still hit him like a freight train.

“Do you want popcorn? I got the salty flavour from that brand you like, the one that fits into your diet.”

That was all you said. Twenty-one words that somehow managed to send the boy spiralling as he turned to gape at you, his body melted into the couch to the point he didn’t think he could get up if he tried.

And there was you, sitting there as you smiled and waited for his response. You didn’t even look different, just lounging around in some shorts and a hoodie with his number on it. Your hair was a mess, you had even made a joke about it when he first came in. And the bags under your eyes told him your sleep schedule was probably as shit as his was right now, probably from staying up to watch the races.

But, fuck, Oscar thought you looked so pretty.

You had always looked pretty to him, but this was something else. This was a whole new level. This wasn’t just an appreciation of your looks, this was a full kick to the chest that screamed ‘oh shit, this isn’t platonic’. You just looked so cosy and comfortable and domestic, and Oscar could almost let himself imagine that this was a sight he got to see every day, that he got to wake up to, that he spent forever with.

Because Oscar Piastri was in love with his best friend and he hadn’t even realised until now, until this very fucking moment.

“Do you not want popcorn?” You asked, creases forming between your brows as you furrowed them together. He had the strongest urge to smooth the spot with his thumb.

“Uh no, yeah,” he cleared his throat and gave you a sleepy, slightly strained smile. “Popcorn sounds good.”

Your face brightened. “Good, I was gonna make it anyways.”

He watched as you stood from the couch, making your way towards your kitchen. He watched you walk away as his heart pounded in his chest, as he pressed the heel of his palm against his ribs like that would calm him down. He watched as you rambled on, oblivious to the existential crisis your best friend was experiencing.

There was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should say something, that he should tell you how he feels. You two don’t lie to each other, or hold back on anything. He knew he should have told you. But that selfish desire returned and Oscar had the strongest urge to keep his mouth shut for one more night, to enjoy the rush of feelings overwhelming him until he had to tell you.

He couldn’t imagine a life without you, so he let himself have tonight just on the off chance his feelings were the start of the end of your friendship, just in case he lost you forever.

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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drchucktingle · 10 months

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Hi Dr Tingle

Thank you so much for your work, your words really speak a lot to me. I was wondering how do you get to that feeling of joy? I think I’ve forgotten how to feel and I would very much like to know how you get to that feeling.

Thank you for your existence

oh this is great question first of all gotta say thank you for phrasing this way and asking what CHUCK does, not what YOU should do. i will not tell others what THEY need to do (that kind of thing is always dang red flag for chuck) but i would love to share my own journey.

finding joy has a lot of paths and roadblocks and it is different for all buckaroos. sometimes there is chemical imbalance or trauma or you are trapped in a endless maze of harmful patterns, and sometimes life is just difficult in a very average everyday way that IN ITSELF is overwhelming. just existing is A LOT bud.

here is why i am usually very happy and in a state of joy: way of GRATITUDE. now keep in mind this is not that simple and my words are not cure all for every bud, but if it helps i will explain my thoughts.

THE CALL OF THE LONESOME TRAIN is the awareness that our time here in this reality will end, and this call is a double edged sword. it can haunt you and bring great sadness, and it can tear your dang heart out when someone you love has to board. but for chuck it is also the source of my gratitude and motivation.

i am constantly aware that i will eventually have a LAST DAY on this timeline. i do not know when or where or how i will board the lonesome train, but it is a guarantee this time will come. if i picture myself on this day, lets say lyin in a dang hospital bed, i know that personally i will REALLY NOT WANT TO LEAVE. on this last day surrounded by loved ones everything has VALUE. i will think 'just one last walk in the park' 'just one last kiss' 'just one last chocolate milk' 'just one last quiet moment looking at the way light moves on the floor from the window'

i will have SO MUCH GRATITUDE FOR EVERYTHING ON MY LAST DAY and think 'i would pay a million dollars for one final trot around the block'. but here is the thing: EVERY DAY HAS THAT MUCH VALUE WE JUST DO NOT HAVE THE PERSPECTIVE TO REALIZE IT. every moment is all just grains of sand and those grains are always the same sand, we just assign different value to them.

so when i wake up in the morning i often think 'one day i will look back and give anything to be here,' even if it is a stormy day, or i have a difficult task or a hard talk ahead. even if i am sick or tired or depressed. i am aware that as a human being trotting through this reality i am going to tend to UNDERVALUE the present. and then i try to give the present the value it deserves.

hope that helps bud. my way is not the 'correct' way and maybe you can find a better one for yourself, but it might be worth giving this technique a shot if you would like. maybe you can adjust and find a good balance that is all your own. LOVE IS REAL

#love is real #the lonesome train #gratitude #buckaroo lifestyle #joy

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highhhfiveee · 6 months

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Mike x reader, with reader who works long hours during the daytime and Mike working at night which results in them barely having time to see eachother besides from dinner and bedtime

oh, you wanted angst fr 🥲 i think it could go either way, but honestly angst is what stood out to me first. i’m going to make this sadder too, just because i can 💜

to crumble (mike schmidt x reader)

tags/warnings: angst, pain, prescription drug mentions, fluff and cuteness in the beginning but not for long. mike fucks up, reader picks up his slack. things just don’t work! let me know if i missed anything! mndi.

this is long, sorry ;-; there are also probably a million errors in this, please ignore 💜

part 2 here: 🏳️

all i can think ab is the unbearable pain that replaces the love in your hearts as time goes on.

you’ve been together for half a year. things were fun at first, but once you decide to move in to help with abby, you start to see the cracks in the foundation.

in this one, reader works two jobs (bc let’s face it, this is unfortunately realistic); teaching from 9-4 and cashiering from 5-8:30. mike doesn’t want you working two jobs and you didn’t want to, but you knew that your salaries combined wouldn’t keep you afloat. abby’s school is expensive, and so is everything else in life. the extra money you get from cashiering gives you guys flexibility.

every morning at 6:30, monday to friday, you wake up alone. even though you know it’ll probably be empty, you still reach your arm over to run it over mike’s side. it’s always cold and flat, completely untouched.

you brush this off at first; it's one of the things that comes with him working overnight and you know he needs this job so that he can keep abby. you want that for him and know that love is sacrifice.

you wake abby up and start getting her ready in between fixing yourself up; brushing her teeth while you brush yours, letting her get a few more minutes of sleep in while you throw on your clothes, guiding her through packing her bag while you make breakfast. by that time, closer to 7:30, mike is finally walking into the house.

his eyes are hooded and surrounded by dark bags and you can tell he's exhausted from the way he hangs his things up lethargically. he kisses abby, who's running around collecting things, on the head, then ambles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing along your neck.

they're soft, gentle actions that make you forget about not being able to do things like this at night. it doesn't matter when you have mornings with him, even if it's only 30 minutes before you have to go. you giggle and reach a hand up to his cheek, kissing him on his other one.

"missed you," you whisper.

"missed you too," he mumbles back, planting a kiss on your lips before stalking away to ask abby something.

you all eat breakfast together, and then you're slipping abby's coat over her shoulders before you put on your own. you usher her to the car and give mike one last kiss before you leave, a deep one that you hope he feels all day. when you pull away, you can see the affection sparkling in his eyes, low and tired but expressive nonetheless.

"i love you," he whispers, his sleepiness masquerading as love-drunkeness.

"i love you, mike. get some rest, okay?"

you drop abby off, wishing her well, before you're alone for the next 12 hours. it often drags. at your teaching job, you feel as if it's just passing you buy in waves, everything whizzing past you at light speed. you're aware that you're in front of the kids, but then you just blackout. you're thrown into autopilot, and you do this over and over until your lunch break at 1. you text mike to pass the time.

sometimes it's something silly, like "god i do not get paid enough" or "a kid just ate glue /: send help", to which mike will respond "😂😂😂" or "lol you deserve millions (:". he makes you laugh, and it's enough to help you push through the end of the day.

he picks up abby from school, asking her all about her day and what she wants for dinner. he'll text you what she says so you know what to expect when you get home, like "meatloaf 🍖🍞 (:" or "chicken alfredo 0: fancy".

for you, transitioning from teaching to customer service was easy; all you had to do was maintain that same autopilot: smile on, eyes alert, prepared for anything. no one suspected a thing when you could keep up and answer their questions.

mike helps abby with her homework, scratching his head with the eraser of a pencil when he draws blanks on a math or history question. abby only sighs, telling him about something off-topic. "art class is much more interesting."

mike starts dinner while you're closing up at work, sweeping the front end of the store and counting down your drawer. he lets abby help sometimes, and they usually have it ready for you by the time you're home at 9.

abby meets you at the door, and you hug her tight, picking her up and waltzing her back into the house. mike is setting the dining table, greeting you with a sleepy smile and, "the queen has arrived."

you all sit down and eat, and it's another one of those moments where everything feels okay. the last 12 hours didn't matter when you were able to have this at the end of it.

you tell abby and mike about your day over spaghetti, spilling details about prideful parents and spiteful customers. abby laughs all throughout, asking questions about being a cashier. mike just listens, eyes and heart floating between the two of you.

you clear the table while mike goes to get ready for work, and a wash of dread passes over you. your brain knows what's happening next. you'll kiss him goodbye, clinging to his hoodie sleeve for a second longer than you should, and then you'll settle down with abby, bathing her and reading her to sleep. then you'll be alone. it will just be you and the screech of infomercials until midnight, and then you'll be off to sleep, snuggling into a pillow that smells like mike.

you push the feeling away, shaking your head and hands and doing just as you know. there's the kiss, the night routine with abby, and the moment you sit on the couch, surrounded by tv light and the croaking of cicadas.

mike doesn't text during his shift unless it's an emergency. it makes you sad, but you understand. security requires focus, and you require sleep.

for a while, this works. it's what you and mike have to do to make ends meet, and while you both think that it'll only get better with more time at it, it doesn't.

you still wake up alone and go through the same rhythm, but when mike comes in around 7:30, it's not 7:30 anymore. it's 7:39, then 7:45, then 7:58. the latest he's ever been, so late that you're not able to eat with him. he shrugs it off when you mention it, kissing your cheek and retreating to the bedroom to sleep.

you drop abby off as usual, and go to work. work. work. work.

mike starts missing your lunch break texts, sometimes dozing dangerously close to when abby's school lets out. while your class works, you bitterly stare at your text conversation. your unanswered "shaping america's future is kinda sick" message stares back at you until it's replaced by abby's school calling. your heart drops to your stomach as you step out of the room to take the call, answering the phone with, "is she okay?"

mike didn't pick her up. she's out at 2:30 and it's 3:30 now, and she's crying and scared because he didn't pick up the phone, and she always calls him first.

you leave work in a flurry, asking a fellow teacher to take over, and you speed to abby's school, not caring about tickets or police or anything. you only want to get her home.

mike is dashing out of the door when you pull up, wrenching a sobbing abby out of your backseat and clutching her close. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes, smoothing her hair and looking up at you with regret etched into every feature on his face.

you try your best to hide your upset, ushering everyone inside before changing into your work clothes. you were going to be late, but you shake it off. abby was home and that was all that mattered.

"hey," mike reaches out to you when you're on your way out. his fingers graze their way down to your hand, and it makes you wish that you could stay home. "thanks for that. i've just been super tired lately and i overslept and---"

"it's okay, baby," you give him a tight lipped smile and a kiss on the knuckles. "just don't let it happen again."

it happens again. and again. and again. it happens so many times that abby starts to think mike is forgetting about her, and you don't know how to get that out of her head. she cries about it more and more with each time you have to pick her up. he stops running out to apologize, still asleep inside.

you rush into the bedroom. he's splayed out over the bed, snoring loudly with his arm hanging over the side. you find an orange pill bottle on his nightstand. an old ambien prescription.

you argue with him before work sometimes.

"what do you need ambien for?"

"i can't sleep."

"but every morning, you skip breakfast to sleep."

"i do fall asleep, but i started waking up out of it. i just take the ambien to help me fall again."

"what time do you take it?"

"i don't know, y/n."

"why are you lying to me?"

"i'm not."

"what time?" you cry, grasping at your chest. a sharp pains thud through your ribcage, and you literally sob. it feels like your heart is tearing in two. "you stare at times, mike. what time do you take the ambien?"

he doesn't answer you and he doesn't know why. it would be so easy to tell you that he takes it at 9 or 10, and that he believes he'll be able to wake himself up around 2 but he doesn't. he can’t sleep without the ambien. he needs it now because he kept himself up in the early days of this, mind toiling over their situation, the endless reassurance that this would work sending him into insomnia.

you leave when he doesn't answer, wiping at your watery eyes and runny nose.

you cashier as a shell of yourself. abby stops asking mike for homework help, and eventually he stops cooking dinner too, trading all that time in for extra sleep after picking her up. you have to explain the situation to your retail store manager, just in case mike forgets again, and start looking after abby more. mike only ever made time to spend with her on the weekends, content with awkward moments over lunch and low energy bickering.

the lunch break texts stop. the dinner texts stop.

he's dressed and ready to leave when you get home these days, prepared to exit as you enter. you don't know what to say as you face each other in the doorway, eyes focused on anything but each other. you don’t even kiss anymore.

"i think abby's asleep already."

you shake your head. "i think she's really sad. she hasn't been coming out of there like she used to. she misses you."

"i miss her too, of course. i'm just busy."

"all you do is work, mike," you deadpan, exhausted with him. you never thought you'd ever get to a point where you looked at mike, the sure love of your life, with disdain, but you felt it creep into you ever so slightly.

"yeah, i know. it fucking sucks, but it's what i have to do to keep abby."

you scoff, scooting past him to take your coat and bag off. "as if you're going to keep her by leaving her at school everyday." it's supposed to be under your breath, but the disdain creeps onto your tongue, bitter and raging, and you say it aloud, to his face.

his jaw clenches and his brown eyes burn, staring you down with an unrelenting severity. you hunch yourself over, dropping your head and sighing out, "mike, i'm sorry. i didn--"

he leaves without another word.

how it got to this, neither of you know. not even the weekends healed anymore. mike caught up on sleep, you caught up on grading, and in your downtime, you avoided each other. for him, it felt easier than being around you. you were irritable all the time, a quick fuse with any word he could think to speak.

for you, it seemed like it was what he wanted. time away from you, from abby, from everyone; time to be alone and recharge for the only thing he ever did, the only thing that was keeping his sister in his care.

you didn't even remember what his touch felt like, what he tasted like. the man that you loved had become but a memory, a ghost that passed through your plane. you’re able to imagine his fluffy hair, his perfect smile, his laugh, his rich smell, but none of it mattered. he didn’t feel like yours anymore.

you suppose it was the same for him, with you existing in the same space but only tangible to him some of the time. he would catch glimpses of your smile, laughing at something on your phone, or talking to abby, meet your eyes when you shuffled back to the bedroom from the bathroom, rimmed in red from crying for the last 30 minutes.

he starts sleeping on the couch, unable to even lay beside you.

mike does a lot of crying. a lot of screaming into his pillow, wondering why he fucks these things up so badly. you do the same, wondering why you stay in situations that hurt you.

this goes on for longer than you two would like, so long that you don't even celebrate your one-year anniversary.

the day passes without noise, mike sleeping and you working.

a prequel of sorts : x

THIS WAS SO FUCKING LONG MY BBBBBBBB OMG. i did NOT mean to go this deep in, i just felt SOOOOO MUCH! my little brain got sad ): i could go deeper into this too one day, breaking up moments into specific little blurbs or ficlets d: let me know if y'all even enjoyed this lmaooo off to write for Halloween lol

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #fnaf angst #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf fic #faire’s mike schmidt <3 #this was painful #kind of tired so it may be ass but #it feels painful #imagine your relationship just falling to pieces 💔#i made this so long #whoops #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

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Heyoo! Can i request az x reader where they're mates and vowed to each other that till death do them apart. But az started questioning if he would die for his mate ever since elain came into picture, bcos of the 3 brothers for 3 sisters thing. And reader sort of found out about az's feelings and wanted time off from each other. Then all of a sudden war broke out in the court and everything was crazy. Reader went out to look for az making sure he is safe when she saw an arrow shot towards him and reader took the hit for az. And az started to regret his doubt in thie relationship and begging for his mate's forgiveness. Major angst pls and the ending is up to you! Thank you and have a great day 💖

Scattered Vows.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; way too much angst, mentions of death and battle. Mental illness.

Masterlist.

Uhm my heart broke. I think you will need a tissue box.

You watched the door of your bedroom for what felt like hours. A sigh escaped your lips, and you pressed your head on your mate’s pillow, his scent so faint like he hadn’t slept in your bed for weeks. And he probably hadn’t, you couldn’t remember the last time he stayed in bed for more than three hours.

The city was bright and warm offering a perfect view from the hill you were currently standing on. Your friends’ eyes were filled with tears as they watched you and your mate standing in front of the priestess.

“What do you vow to each other?” She asked.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” Azriel’s eyes watered as he spoke, his scarred hands grabbed your own and he pressed a soft kiss on your skin.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” You chuckled and Azriel smiled.

“May the Mother bless this union and let it bloom like the most precious flowers” the priestess shouted and started murmuring a prayer.

“I love you my angel” Azriel whispered.

“I love you” you whispered back as the tears streamed down your face.

You teared up at the memory. Those vows meant something right? Even though he reeked of jasmine when he came back, he loved you right?

You heard the door open, and your mate’s footsteps filled the silence, making you wipe your tears and sit up. He removed his boots to not wake you and you suppressed the urge to scoff, you slowly slipped out of bed and walked down the hall to find him.

He was standing at the middle of the kitchen watching the two cold plates on the table with a frown.

“You’re here” you noted, and he glanced at you.

“Please don’t start I’m not in the mood.” He huffed.

“Don’t start what Azriel? You stood me up AGAIN” you threw your hands in the air.

“Fine you want to do this now? Okay” he yelled, and you flinched.

Azriel had never raised his voice at you, it was one of the things you loved about him, how you could always talk things out without wrecking your vocal cords.

“Where were you?” You asked and stepped closer.

“I had to finish some reports” he replied and you stepped even closer making him back off, you quirked a brow knowing exactly why he did it and marched to him sniffing. Jasmine.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you growled “you were finishing off reports or Elain’s cunt?”

His eyes widened and he bared his teeth “don’t speak for her like that”.

Your heart broke into million pieces, every fear suddenly felt real and deep down you realized that the union bloomed like a beautiful flower, but in Elain’s garden.

“You’re defending her?” You gaped at him, your face pale.

“I can’t do this anymore y/n. Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows…” he trailed off and you felt like his feet were stepping over the pieces of your heart, crushing them into even smaller fragments.

“Go on” you whispered and let the tears escape.

“I’ve been thinking about Cassian and Rhys…they are mated with two of the sisters and I wonder if I should be mated to the third one. Three brothers and three sisters.” He explained and his eyes watered.

“What?” You asked him.

“I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” he avoided your eyes

“You want to protect her until your last breath” you whispered and he nodded.

“Okay, please pack your things and leave.” You continued.

“Don’t do this” he breathed “I’m so confused, I’m not even sure if this is what I want. I just spend time with her to see if I’m really interested or if it’s just a sick thought”

“You want me to stay with you until you decide which one you want?” You gasped at his nerve.

“I-i don’t know. Can we just take a break? I won’t touch her I promise I just need some time to think.” He pleaded.

You felt numb, and an adamant wall fell on your side of the bond, blocking him entirely.

You just wanted to be alone, you didn’t have any more power to argue. “Okay. Pack your things and leave and we will speak again when you make your decision.” You lied hoping it will get him out of the house as soon as possible.

“Thank you” he gave you a sad smile and walked into your bedroom. The small cottage you two had built a few months before the ceremony felt empty and dull now as every promise of love died slowly.

You covered your mouth with your palm to keep the sobs in as you clenched your eyes shut and let the tears flow. Azriel reached the door with a small bag thrown over his shoulder and glanced back at you. You turned your back on him and waited to hear the door shutting.

“I’ll be back” he promised and left.

When you couldn’t hear the beating sound of his wings anymore you let it all out, a heartbreaking scream wrecked your throat and you dropped on your knees. Every kiss, every touch, every promise pierced your skin and escaped to the darkness of the sky.

You remained on the kitchen floor for two days, letting every feeling out hoping that it would stop hurting so bad. You reached a point of numbness, where even your love for him was dull now, cursing at yourself for trusting him. He had your fragile heart in his hands, and he crushed it into mist, without a care, without a hint of regret. You pictured him in her arms and rage made your body tremble, you despised her even though it wasn’t her fault. She sure was a wicked female for leading on a mated male but then again why should she care? He was the one who should have said no.

A booming sound pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt the ground shaking making you furrow your eyebrows and peek out the window. Velaris' shield was gone, you couldn’t feel the magic anymore and winged creatures descended from the sky, slaughtering everyone in their path. The autumn court’s banners emerged from the mountains, with an army behind them. You gasped and quickly grabbed a dagger, running out of the cottage and winnowing to the main square, Feyre and Mor were there holding swords and shouting at people to hide.

“Where’s Azriel?” you shouted at Feyre.

“He….” She paused “He took Elain out of the city, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You shook your head, not letting your family’s betrayal cloud your senses. They knew and they supported them, like you never existed.

You ran towards the creatures letting all your feelings out as you sliced their necks, your vision clouding and the image of Azriel flying Elain to safety was the only thing you could see. You crouched and placed your hand on the ground screaming, your eyes became white, and your power flowed out of you, destroying creatures and buildings on its way. You gasped for air and glanced around you, Azriel had landed a few steps behind you, his eyes wide as he stared at you and what you did. You noticed a creature lurking in the corner with a bow in its hands, it grabbed an arrow and pointed it to your mate making your face pale.

“Az” you screamed and ran… ran like your life depended on it, the arrow was shot, Azriel whipped his head to the direction, and you jumped, using the remaining power to lunge yourself in front of him. Silence, deafening silence, a cry, pain, fear and darkness.

Azriel watched the arrow piercing your skin and the tip emerging from your back.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” It rang in his mind.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He cried out your name.

"I would even take an arrow for you.” “Stop” he ordered himself.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He grabbed his head, his hands covering his ears.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” “No” he screamed and started hitting his head.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” He fell on his knees.

“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” Darkness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel woke up with a groan, he was in his room in the house of wind. He glanced around and noticed Elain sitting on a chair by his bed, her hand holding his own.

He stirred a bit and pulled his hand back making her flinch and open her eyes.

“Az” she whispered and tried to pull him in her arms.

“No! Where is she?” he shouted.

Rhysand entered his room and nodded at Elain to get out.

“Rhys where is she?” Azriel raised his voice again.

“Calm down, you need to rest, your shadows almost strangled you to death” his brother spoke.

“What? Why?” he gaped.

Rhys sighed “I went into your mind while you were asleep, you ordered them to strangle you because you wanted the thoughts to go away”.

Azriel’s eyes watered “Where is she? I have to go to her, I have to apologize. I need to beg her not to leave me”.

“I’m sorry brother, you’ve been out for five days. We couldn’t wait any longer so we buried her at the garden of your cottage”

“No!” Azriel screamed “No no no”

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” “NO” he screamed again as his body started seizing.

Rhysand quickly moved to his side and grabbed his head making him go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry brother” he whispered and glanced at Feyre who was standing at the door, tears were streaming down her face.

“It’s done” she informed him and let him in her mind.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n?” She asked you.

“Yes, this is for the best. Just tell him I’m dead.” You replied.

“Okay, please take care of her.” She spoke.

“I will, I promise to give her a place in my court” Eris nodded.

“Thank you” Feyre replied, “for everything, we wouldn’t defeat Beron without you”.

“It was my pleasure” Eris smirked and grabbed your hand.

Feyre let a tear slip as she watched you disappearing with Eris.

“Do you think he will survive this?” She asked Rhysand.

“I doubt it.” He sighed and they walked out, closing the door and locking it.

Sorry <3

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melrodrigo · 11 months

Note

I really love puppy love omg 😭😭 what about when puppy like reader gets really injured by someone and ends up in the clinic and tries to hide it so that wednesday wont notice? Its up to you if you wanna write it!

ty babe! i’m glad you like it

i might’ve gone a little overboard and wrote more than i thought i would, enjoy!

Okay. Maybe picking a fight with a 6’2 giant wasn’t your brightest idea.

It started in fencing class, you making your way towards Enid, for a pair exercise. Wednesday wasn’t in class today, opting instead to sneak out and work on the hyde case, she had mentioned briefly.

“Yeah dude, Wednesday is sooo into me. I can feel it. She’s been giving me so many signals.” You hear as you walk past Xavier and his hoard of friends.

You can’t help the sudden tug in your heart, and the small voice in your head that said maybe he was right.

Wednesday had been spending a lot of time with Xavier lately, but she had claimed it was for the hyde case. It didn’t help the swell of jealousy that surged through you whenever you saw them though.

Stupid feelings. Why are you jealous anyway? It’s not like you and Wednesday are together.

A voice cuts you out of your thoughts, “Totally dude, and when you finally hit that, you gotta tell me alll the details alright?”

Your face scrunches in disgust, hands on both sides of your body starting to clench into fists.

“You know I will. I swear, she’s all over me. Next time we’re alone together, it’s on.” Xavier replies, drawing an emphasis on the last word.

Nope, that’s it.

You turn sharply and bring your clenched fists up to your face, resembling the stance of a boxer.

It probably looked a little funny, since you were what, a million feet shorter than him? But you honestly couldn’t have cared less in the moment.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” You hiss, eyes hard and unforgiving.

Xavier stays quiet for a moment, then let’s out a loud laugh.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? Wednesday’s not here to protect your ass this time.” He drawls, smirk on his crusty thin lips.

He leans in, too close for comfort and whispers, “Wednesday would never give you the light of day. You’re so pathetically in love with her, all of us can see it. But Wednesday’s in love with me.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something good to say.

“And when we finally fuck, i’ll be sure to send you some photo evidence.”

That does it. You snap, lunging forward and grabbing his hair, pulling harshly.

“Ow! Get off of me!”

It’s hard to remember what happens next, you’re so lost in the fury and rage of it all you can barely register that you’re suddenly on top of him, pummeling his stupid face with all your might.

You grin in satisfaction as you see blood start to make its way from his lips down to his neck.

But your luck doesn’t last very long, and he manages to kick up at a certain weak spot between your legs, leaving you to stumble and hit the floor.

Groaning, you try and get up, but he’s faster. The adrenaline is fading away, and you’re starting to realize that he is in fact a lot stronger, even if you hate to admit it.

You start to lose feeling in the right side of your face, where his knuckles have collided against your skin. Bruises form so fast you almost let out a chuckle, was your skin really that sensitive?

“That’s enough! Xavier get off YN.” The teacher’s voice booms. Could he really not have cut in sooner?

“Enid, take YN to the nurses office.”

You barely register Enid and Ajax rushing over to you, taking you in their arms and dragging you out the classroom.

You smile a toothy grin at them.

“Did I win?” And then everything turns to black.

______

When you wake up again, Enid’s at your side immediately, looking down at you, worry prominent in her eyes.

“YN! Are you okay?”

You nod, only to find out that it’s extremely difficult to move your head and not feel like you just broke every bone in your body.

“I’m good.” You croak.

You look around the room, relieved to find that Wednesday wasn’t there. You don’t think you could bear the look she would give you, so full of worry and so unlike Wednesday.

“Where’s Wednesday?” You manage out, looking at Enid expectedly.

“She hasn’t come back from Jericho yet.” Enid confirms your suspicions, sounding a little uneasy.

“Xavier’s really got to watch his back, I have no idea what Wednesday’s going to do when she finds out about this, but it’s NOT going to be pretty.” She continues, eyes wide.

At that, your own eyes widen, and you try to shake your head.

“No no, Enid, please don’t tell Wednesday about this. I don’t want her to see me in this shape.” You reach for Enid’s hand, making sure she’s looking at you.

“But…”

“Please, Enid. You don’t have to lie or anything, just tell her you don’t know where I am. I’ll be good in a couple of days.” You plead.

“Alright, fine.” She mumbles, taking your hand in hers and rubbing the back in comfort.

——

The next few days are spent in agony. The pain is starting to subside, but you still look like a beat up raisin. Purple and green bruises litter your skin, but the real sense of pain is coming from the distance between you and Wednesday.

You two had grown….very somewhat close the last few months, though the both of you would never admit it.

It was extremely hard trying to avoid Wednesday, and even harder to cover the bruises on your face. One good look and you knew she would’ve figured it out.

So for the past week, you’ve stumbled into bushes, fallen over benches, and hit the corridor walls in an attempt to swerve from Wednesday many times.

Every time she tried to approach you, you’d hang your head low, never meeting her eyes.

It was going well for the most part, until Ms.Thornhill had decided she wanted people to work in pairs.

You crossed your fingers, praying to the lord that you didn’t even worship you wouldn’t be stuck with Wednesday.

But to no avail, your luck once again ran out.

“Wednesday Addams, YN LN.”

You sigh loudly and make your way over to sit next to Wednesday, still avoiding her eye at all costs.

Most of the lesson is spent in silence, both of you lost stirring in your thoughts.

Then, “Why have you been avoiding me?” Wednesday says, hurried, like she couldn’t help it from slipping.

You sigh, for what feels like the millionth time that day, and manage a quiet, “I haven’t been avoiding you Wednesday.”

It comes out so weak, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself.

“Yes you have. I want to know the reason, have I done something wrong? Maybe I said something to hurt your….feelings?” She pauses before the last word, tone turning uncertain.

You frown.

“No of course not Wednesday, I just…” You trail off.

You turn to Wednesday, determined to give the performance of a lifetime, but forget that your face still looks like a bruised peach, and you definitely shouldn’t look her in the face.

You let out a final sigh and pull the head of your hoodie down, feeling small under Wednesdays stare.

Her eyes widen a little at the sight of you, and worry fills them. You can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness at how much she seems to care, letting the emotionless mask slip for a second.

She stands up suddenly, startling you and the 20 other people in the room.

“Ms. Thornhill, may YN and I please be excused?”

Wednesday doesn’t wait for Ms.Thornhill to answer before taking you by the wrist and dragging you out.

She doesn’t say a word until she gets to her dorm, quickly opening the door and throwing you in.

“Wednesday?” You squeak.

She turns and reaches out to touch your face, thumb rubbing just the slightest on your bruises.

A gentleness she didn’t know she possessed took over, still moving her hand in small circles all over your face.

“Who did this to you?” She murmurs, and her voice is filled with such intense worry it makes you want to break down.

Your head falls down on instinct, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting piece of art in the world.

Wednesday grips your chin and tilts your face back up, inches away from you.

Then she’s placing her hands on your waist, hands rigid, like she’s nervous.

You look so vulnerable, and she might’ve even say sort of adorable, she can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to your cheek, on top of the scar.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body stiff.

She continues giving you little pecks all around the bruises, and you relax in her arms.

After a while, she pulls away, and you grab at her on instinct. She lets you, body pressing up to yours once again.

“You never answered my question.” She says.

“Xavier. He said something bad about you, but it doesn’t matter now. This is much better.” You mumble as you dig your face in her uniform.

She tenses up at this.

“He’s going to die a slow, painful death. And not the satisfying kind.” She decides, hand wrapping around your waist protectively.

You hum, “Who cares? I just wanna stay like this.”

The two of you don’t say much after that, content in simply being in each other’s presence.

When you get to class the next day, you bite back a smirk when you see Xavier’s positively beaten up face.

You walk over to him, acting all nonchalant.

“Yeah dude. She’s soooo into you.”

A/N: I kinda really enjoyed writing that, ty anon! Wednesday’s such a sweet softie on the inside.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader

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silverstonesainz · 8 months

Text

august

─── august slipped away into a moment in time... 'cause it was never mine

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader warnings; just sad. 17.8 k words

Everything with Daniel came easy. It came naturally, beautifully, and all at once. It was a good thing.

You met him in August, under the scorching summer sun and bottomless margaritas. Between glasses of mango and lime, you bumped into him. He smiled, you smiled too, and the rest wrote itself. You were drunk– a little too drunk for three in the afternoon, but what was summer for? You stumbled on your feet, toes slipping through the straps of your flimsy shoes as you staggered for your own balance. And in a failed attempt to keep yourself upright, you reached out for a chair but instead found your fingers gripping onto the white linen of his shirt. His hands were quick to find their place on your torso, like it was always meant to be there, like he’d done this a million times before. Daniel helped you find your balance, knees bent so that he’s at your eye level. His smile was sobering, knocking the air right out of your lungs. Thank you was caught in your throat, even if your lips were parted to give them way. But you were rendered speechless.

“You alright?” He asked, the warmth of his hands seeping through the thin material of your sundress.

“Y-yeah.” You finally managed, putting your weight back onto your feet. “I’m alright.”

“Good. I’m Daniel, by the way.”

He let you go, and you missed him. He held his hand out of you to shake, one you gladly take as you tell him your name. He repeated with a smile. You were the first to pull your hand from his. “Could I buy you a drink? As a thank you, for saving me?”

He obliged. And after another strawberry– or was it watermelon? You couldn’t distinguish the details by then. All you could remember is that Daniel sat at the bar with you and laughed at jokes you’re sure made no sense. You have a vague memory of the party ending, of having to bid adieu even if you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to your new friend. But that’s when your memory goes spotty and the next thing you know you’re waking up in yesterday’s clothes with a pounding in your head. The sun beckons a new day, your last day in Mykonos begs you to fight through your hangover to enjoy your last twenty-something hours in paradise. So you do. You rinsed all your mistakes under the cool water, flashes of honey brown eyes and a smile so wide it hurt your cheeks thinking about it.

Two texts sat waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower.

Unknown 9:19 AM Hey, it’s Daniel. Care to join me for breakfast?

You weren’t sure when you had given him your number, but you silently thanked your drunk-self for doing something sober-you could never muster the courage to do. By then, your friends had already gone on their final adventure, leaving you to recover in the hotel room. You had no plans for your last day, so you replied with a quick sure, and got ready.

Daniel is already sitting at the table when you make it down. He’s seated at the far corner of the hotel restaurant, nursing a cup of coffee as he read something on his phone. The nerves rattled your chest with every step you take, hoping silently that he would look up at you so you wouldn’t have to awkwardly announce your presence. And he did, setting his cup and phone down the closer you got. Hey you he says softly, standing from his chair to greet you with a hug.

He was warm, smelled of rain in the spring, of the happy earth after a downpour. He smelled like a backyard of freshly watered flowers, of home and comfort. You tried not to let yourself drown in it, but you know it would be something you’ll be chasing for the rest of your days.

You sat across from him, allowing small talk of the weather to unravel into a two hour conversation. You talked about work, about your best friend’s bachelorette party– the reason you were in Mykonos in the first place. You told him about your hopes and dreams, the silly ones and the serious ones. And he spoke of the world, of the places he’s traveled, the people he’s met. He made life sound so exciting, He speaks of life so happily, you were almost envious of him. His eyes glistened with every word, every laugh, every ounce of hope you could ever wish for yourself.

“So when do you leave?” Daniel asked, sipping on his water.

You blew out a sigh, “Tomorrow morning.”

It was the first time you saw him frown. A deep frown that had his lips curved down and brows furrowed. That’s too soon he complained. It was. It was far too soon, but you didn’t have the heart to admit it outloud. So you nodded, a soft hum buzzing past your closed lips as you brought your hot tea up to your mouth.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” You shook your head. “Would you let me take up your time then?”

You could feel your cheeks turn red, heat rising to the tips of your ears. Daniel smiled, eyes wide and bright like they knew what your answer was going to be. How could you deny him?

Daniel didn’t have much of a plan, but it didn’t matter. You enjoyed his company, you enjoyed the laughter and the way he looked at you. You walked the streets, played tourist with him. You walked in and out of shops, convincing each other you needed this little knickknack and that tacky magnet. And by the end of it, you had handfuls of cheesy souvenirs to remember the day by.

The last stop was the gift shop in the hotel lobby. You followed each other up and down the aisles of the little store, past overpriced snacks and toiletries. Sneaky glances and smiles after catching the other, you and Daniel play cat and mouse throughout the store till you part ways. You found yourself spinning the display of touristy jewelry. Leather straps, tarnishable chains, with beachy charms attached. Flowers, a turtle, even a single wave. You stole a glance at Daniel who looked up at the shirt selections, flipping through the sizes in search of his own. A bit of sadness settled in your chest as you came to realize that the end of your day– of your time– with Daniel was coming slow & torturous. You ached at the thought, biting on the inside of your cheek as you crouch down to get a better view of the adjustable bracelets.

You met him at the register with an exchange of sad smiles. You paid for your stuff, he paid for his. And as you stepped out of the gift shop, your heart lacked a heaviness you had been expecting. The sadness was there, but no dread. You stopped with a soft stomp, turning on your heel to look up at Daniel. He stared down at you with a certain kind of softness, the smile maybe a bit dampened by the incoming goodbyes that you were yet to exchange, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time you were going to see him.

“Thank you for today,” You said softly, “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.”

Silence. Shifty feet. An unwillingness to say farewell.

You looked down at your small gift bag, pushing around the crumpled receipts to pull out a bracelet. It had black, adjustable straps, looped through dark blue beads. You held it out to him, “For you. Something to remember…”

Remember what? You couldn’t say. But Daniel understood. He took it, ripped apart the plastic and slipped it on. He shook it on his wrist, smiling up at you like a kid who did something right. Then he was fishing his bags until he pulled out his own little gift to you. He held it out in his palm, a silver keychain with a photo of the windmills in the middle of it, uttering the same words you had moments before. Something to remember. You took it with a soft thank you, holding it tight in your fist.

This was it, the impending goodbye, the inevitable end to it all. Neither of you wanted to say it, to end the chapter– close the book.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He asked hopefully, the grip on his bags suddenly tighter.

You smiled. “I’ll visit you in Monaco.”

“I’ll visit you in London.”

“Okay.”

One breath. Inhale. Exhale.

You threw your arms around him, savored the way his own found solace around your middle. You tried to memorize the way it felt to be in his arms, the smell of the fresh rain– the feeling of home. You’d known the man for twenty-four hours and yet, all this came easy. Melting into him, picturing the rain, promises of flying country to country, it all came so easy.

His hands rubbed your sides as you pulled away from him. Safe travels, doll.

You too Danny.

Maybe walking away wasn’t the easiest thing, to turn your back on him while silently wishing he would stop you. You wished you lived in a movie where the guy impeded your travel plans. Because truth be told, if Daniel asked you to stay a little longer, you might’ve done it. But you made it to the elevator all by yourself, turned to catch a final glimpse of Daniel, who stood in the same place you left him. He lifted his hand, waved one more time before the doors shut. You huffed a sigh, tried to turn your focus to repacking your luggage. Your friends were all back in the room, pestering you on your whereabouts. But you smiled, shrugged your shoulders as you let the day behind you play in the back of your mind.

You finished packing most of your things by ten that evening, promptly falling asleep as the exhaustion from walking all day swallowed you whole. Your dreams were filled with fantasies of a boy with curly hair and honey brown eyes, and his warmth engulfing you. It was pleasant, comforting, homey.

And in the middle of all that good, your eyes sprung open. You had a sudden burst of energy, unable to fall back asleep even if your flight wasn’t for another five hours. You tossed and turned, trying to find a sweet spot that would allow you to slip back into a slumber. But to no avail, it’s three-thirty and there was no hope in falling asleep. You sighed, sitting up and reaching over to grab your phone off the nightstand. Your phone pinged. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Daniel 3:32 AM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

You 3:33 AM I’m awake.

Daniel 3:33 AM Good. Meet in the lobby. PJs mandatory.

You’re giddy, slipping out of bed as quickly and quietly as you can. You grabbed your room key and cellphone, slipped on your slippers, before taking the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing Daniel standing in the same place you left him. His smile was contagious, making your cheeks hurt as you took quick steps over to him. He held his hand out, palm facing up as he mocked a bow while whispering a soft m’lady.

You grinned, taking his hand and letting him whisk you away. You walked the length of the hotel beach, up and down, chasing your shadows given by the warm lamps that illuminate your path. Your toes dug into the wet sand, leaving an imprint of yourself with every step. You bumped shoulders with Daniel, exchanged sleepy smiles, all too happy to bask in the other’s company for a moment longer. Finally, Daniel pulled you down on the sand by him, higher up the property, but still close enough to the threat of the tide. The stars glimmered, twinkled down at you.

“Why were you up?” You asked, turning to look at him. You traced the arch of his nose as he stared up at the sky, traced the curls that lay on his forehead. Daniel blew out a breath through puckered lips, shrugging.

“Why were you?”

The question rested in the air above them, leaving the other to assume the answer. Another comfortable silence, accompanied by the ocean coming and receding. Fingers unknowingly inch closer and closer, begging to be laced between each other. But they danced on the sand, pinkies brushing but never linking.

It’s Daniel’s turn to look at you. His turn to trace the curve of your lips, the curl of your lashes, to commit you to memory. “I want to see you again.”

You smiled, coughed a laugh. “I leave in a couple hours Daniel.”

“Yeah I know. But… we could meet again.”

You turned your head. You searched for the joke, for the punchline, the goofy smile followed by light-hearted laughter. But all Daniel did was smile. Lips touching, dimples deep. His eyes read with so much hope, it sent your heart into a frenzy.

“We could.”

He grinned. “We could.”

You nodded, teeth digging into your bottom lip to hide the dopey smile that threatened to peek through.

There weren’t many words exchanged for the remainder of the hour. You memorized the placement of the stars in the night sky, the sound of the tide rolling to and fro. You remembered the night exactly as it was: just you, Daniel, and the world quietly watching.

The fifth hour rolled around, forcing you on your feet. Your hands found themselves in Daniel’s, giggling as you tried to pull him up onto his feet with you. You brushed away the sand, shook out your hair. You looked up at Daniel as he did the same, smiling over at him when he looked at you. The walk back to the lobby was slow, filled with small talk about the weather and travel plans. He rode the elevator up to your floor, walked you to your door, just as a gentleman does. He tucks your hair back, chuckles softly.

“I’ll text you.”

“And I’ll respond.”

He smiled, taking a step backwards, “I’ll see you soon.”

Another step back, and another, and another until he’s at the end of the hall and waving at you. You stood at your door, watching him leave, waving back before he turned the corner and disappeared. You tapped your key against the door, unlocking it and shut it softly. With your back pressed against the hardwood, you exhaled softly. Head in your hands and a hole in your chest in the shape of Daniel. You felt crazy, maybe a little delirious. Another huff, another hopeful sigh as you pushed yourself off the door and got ready to fly home.

The morning flew past you. Between security lines and scrambling to buy some coffee, you barely had a moment to breathe. And when you finally did find the time, all you could think of was Daniel. Of his laughter, the smell of his cologne, the sweet promise to see each other soon. You slipped your phone out of your pocket, a bit disappointed at the lack of a text. But it was half-past seven in the morning, the man must’ve been asleep… right?

You boarded the plane, buckled yourself into your seat minutes before eight. Still not a single text from the Australian. Your fingers hovered above your keyboard, thumbs shaking as you searched for the words to say to him.

You 7:56 AM Don’t forget about me.

And after four hours, when the plane touched down in Heathrow, you took your phone off airplane mode. Notifications come rolling through, emails from work, a missed call from mom, and one text from the man himself.

Daniel 10:05 AM Never

You learned how much Daniel loved Monza in September. He found victory in his despair there, saw the triumphs and falls of so many racers before him. Daniel loved Monza.

Daniel 11:03 AM The energy is great, you should’ve come out.

The invite was on the table, he had asked you two weeks ago if it was something you’d be interested in attending. You should’ve said yes– any sane person would’ve. But you couldn’t, as much as you wanted to see him again, to be able to talk to him in person and just be with him, you couldn’t say yes. You’d never be able to explain it, other than the fact that you were shy, and holding onto a bit of your Mykonos fantasy. You liked living in a world where your friendship was only something between you and Daniel. You liked the bit of distance, found comfortability in it. At least for now.

So you opted to keep up with him through text and the telly. You exchanged messages until he had to set his phone down, then watched each session, each day. Practice. Qualifying. Race Day.

You 12:01 PM Good luck. I’ll be here for the debrief.

The debrief was a series of texts, mostly from Daniel. It’s every broken hope, every could’ve, should’ve, would’ve that ever crossed his mind. It was you trying to console a broken spirit, to reignite something in him that was already dead. He took your words with grace every time, even if you both knew he didn’t believe a single letter of it.

You 12:02 PM You’re gonna do great.

Daniel 12:04 PM It’s gonna be great.

You smiled at the optimism, at least you hoped that’s what it was. You sat back on race day, watched every second of coverage– from the driver’s parade to the pre-race talk. You saw glimpses of Daniel, of the beloved honey badger. And oh how everyone loved Daniel. Everyone rooted for Daniel, to bring glory to a gloriless team like he had just one year prior. Oh how everyone believed in Daniel too, even if he didn’t quite believe in himself.

Daniel loved Monza, even if Monza didn’t love him back.

It was a painful watch, the final lap of the race was coming into view… and then his car sprung a leak. And that was it, that was the end. Goodbye to the glory, goodbye to the hope.

You didn’t expect to hear from him that night, so it was to your surprise when your phone pinged as his name appeared on your screen. You set your little late-night snack aside, leaning back into the couch as you open the message.

Daniel 9:00 PM Wish you came anyways. Would’ve made the weekend worth its while

You smiled.

You 9:01 PM Next time. Promise.

Daniel 9:03 PM Next time <3

Daniel facetimed you for the first time in October. It caught you off guard. You had been exchanging texts with him since you had seen him last, an occasional voice note from you or him, but it was never anything more than that.

You were cooking dinner. Your hair was up in a disarray, looped carelessly through an elastic in hopes to cool your body down from the heat in your kitchen. You had marinara sauce on the collar of your old high school t-shirt, and you looked less than flattering in the maroon basketball shorts from an ex-boyfriend long long ago. But he was calling, his name and face occupying your screen. He was interrupting a video you were watching because he was calling.

You swiped your phone across the screen, holding it up to give a view of your shoulders to the top of your head. Daniel smiled, wet curls stuck to his forehead. He was clad in black hoodie, airpods tucked into his ears. You hadn’t seen him so happy post-race, the string of bad results and over all bad luck had been wearing him down. You knew it, he knew it, hell the whole world knew it. But here he was, smiling like he had won the whole damn thing.

He said your name like it tasted sweet, dripping like honey from his lips. “Did you watch?”

You propped your phone against the towel holder, shaking your head as you do. “No, I was working on a project. I meant to watch the highlights while I ate dinner.”

“What are you cooking?”

“Pasta.” You felt your cheeks heat up. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“This is the third night in a row.”

“I just need something quick. Pasta’s always quick!” You defended.

He rolled his eyes playfully, biting back a smile. You saw it in the way his cheeks began to round, lips pursed. “Well hurry up. I’ll be your highlight reel for dinner.”

True to his word, Daniel gave you the brief play-by-play of his race in Singapore, the whopping fifth-place finish– best finish he’s had all year. You listened intently, shoveling penne pasta and red sauce into your mouth. You listened and listened, even if he repeated the same moment over and over, with the same excitement, same enthusiasm like he was back in the moment. There was a twinkle in his eyes, the slight inflection in his tone as the words spilled from his mouth. It made your heart soar for him, it made you happy to see him.

But then someone flipped a switch, the mood suddenly dampened as his eyes trailed off camera and his smile slowly began to fade. You pushed your empty bowl aside, pulling your phone closer to you. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “I just wish it was always like this, you know? Miss feeling this… this good after a race. God and it’s almost ridiculous how happy I am for P5. P-fucking-5. But it feels like I’m on the podium. I just wish I had felt this all year.”

You didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? You couldn’t exactly relate or empathize, and you know that the last thing he needed was your sympathy. He’d been getting sympathy since he had lost his seat, and the last thing he needed was to hear it from you. So you hum, pulling his gaze back to you.

“I’m proud of you.”

“You say that all that time.” He scrunched his nose, a teasing expression almost as if he didn't believe you. .

“Maybe because it’s true.” You snarked back, biting back a smile.

A brief pause. You watched his honey brown eyes dart around the screen, staring at you. At every freckle and beauty mark, surely the smeared mascara under your eyes or the faded color that stained your lips. But he wore a smile, wore a bit of adoration and… god you couldn’t identify what that ‘and’ was, but it was nice.

“Thanks.”

He kept you company for the rest of the evening, even sat on the phone staring at your bedroom ceiling while you showered and got ready for bed. And when you finally rolled into your duvet, hair brushed and skincare, Daniel was snoring softly on the phone. It was four in the morning in Singapore, the weekend had finally worn him down. You only indulged in the serenity for a moment, before whispering a quick goodnight Daniel and hanging up.

He called again when he got to Japan, showed you the tiny hotel room he had in Tokyo, gave you a list of places he and Lando planned to visit.

He called before he flew out to L.A. When he landed. When he traveled to and from and across the States until COTA weekend came around.

Daniel never stopped calling, and you never hesitated to answer.

Daniel gave you a nickname in November. You argued about it over the phone, while you packed your work bag for the following Monday. You had him propped up on your nightstand, phone leant up against your lamp. He laughed at your reaction, the grimace on your face as he called you again.

“Oh come on toots, I think it’s cute.” You shook your head, “Why not?”

“I’m not toots Daniel.” You slipped your new pens into the little pocket in your purse, “Look at me, do I look like a toots?”

He laughed. It’s the kind of laughter that’s from deep in his belly, the kind that fades out a bit with every syllable. He fell back into his bed, sinking into his gray pillow case as he held his phone over his head. He watched you pack the rest of your bag before slipping into bed yourself. It was the first time since meeting him that you were in the same time zone. He was back in Monaco, and you in London where you had always been. There were only two races left in the season. Two weekends left of Daniel in the car.

He was calling more often than not. And maybe you could blame the short break before Brazil and Abu Dhabi, but you knew Daniel a little more than that. You didn’t make a comment about it though, just accepted the opportunity to talk to him more.

You turn in your bed, setting Daniel up against the pillow by you. It was a good kind of quiet, a comfortable silence. The kind that brings about a certain… domesticity to the feel of your home, even if he was just on your phone. You liked having him there, even if really wasn’t there.

“How ya feeling?” You asked softly, pulling the covers under your chin.

He huffed a breath, “It just doesn’t feel quite real, if I’m being honest. My brain knows it’s happening but my heart… I don’t know. It’s cheesy. It’s weird.” You hummed in acknowledgement, shifting a bit in your place. “But it’ll be good. It’ll be fine.”

“It will. It will. You will.”

He smiled, nodded. “But you know what’ll make it better?” You raised your brow, a soft hm buzzing from behind your lips. He grinned cheekily, “If you came and watched me in Abu Dhabi, toots.”

Your heart swelled even if you scowled. Daniel hadn’t bothered to invite you to a race since Monza, which is fine. You were busy with work, and there really wasn’t a break long enough for Daniel to get an invite together for you. And plus, you had already declined him once.

“My family is coming out, close friends too. But the entourage wouldn't be complete if I didn’t have you in the garage.”

You pulled the blanket over your face to hide the way it turned red. And much to your surprise, he didn’t tease. No playful comments or layers of compliments to make your cheeks tinge red. No knowing laughter, or gentle chuckle. Just soft, patient breathing, waiting quietly for your answer. Your heart, however, was beating out of your chest. It was so loud you could hear it in your head. It echoed, bounced off the curve of your skull. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to ease the uneasiness that resides in your chest. It was the nerves, the threat– a mere opportunity to make all this real.

Three months and some days had passed since you met Daniel. Three months and some days had passed since you said goodbye. Three months and some days spent dreaming of the smell of fresh rain, warm hugs, and honey brown eyes. Three months and some days.

“Absolutely no pressure. But it would mean the world to me if you did.”

Seeing Daniel in person would mean that you are more to him than some girl on the phone. It would mean that all this was more than the twenty or thirty something hours together in Mykonos three months ago. Flying out to Abu Dhabi would mean the world to him, and a galaxy to you.

You pulled the covers off your face just in time to see Daniel run his fingers through his frizzy curls. He works his fingers over his head, stuffing it between him and the pillow behind him. The muscles in his arms bulge, stretch the sleeve of his athletic t shirt. You wondered if your cheeks got redder. His eyes move off screen, humming a soft tune that barely makes the airwaves to you, but you can hear it just under his shuffling about. He pulls up the covers, you see the edge of his gray sheet come into view. You watched for a few seconds more, watched him settle into his space, snuggled under the covers, before his eyes come back up to meet your gaze.

He smiled. You smiled. It was nice. It was good.

“So… when do I fly out?”

Abu Dhabi was a spectacle, buzzing with energy for the final race of the season. It was impossible to escape that kind of excitement, even outside of the paddock. You heard the buzz, the excitement of who was going to win the race, even if the winner was already spoken for. You enjoyed the optimism, the smiling faces, the feeling of being there in that moment. It was a last for Daniel for the foreseeable future. You were privy to the toll the last couple of years have been on him, the stress, the sadness, the disappointment at the results he continued to produce. But the end was finally here, his final race in orange before a much needed break. It was sad, but it was good.

The hotel was swarmed with fans, waiting for the opportunity to meet their favorite driver. There were heads of bright orange and red, contrasting against the black and navy. The entrance was crowded with people, it was damn near impossible to get through and check in. But you managed with the help of a young busboy, who complained and pushed through a group of crazed fans. It wasn’t long from there, and soon you were flopping onto the queen bed of your hotel room with a loud sigh. Nearly seven hours on the plane had wiped you out, and if it weren’t for the fact you promised to meet Daniel, you would’ve fallen asleep right there.

But alas, you forced yourself out of bed, stood in the hot shower to wash away the dirty air. You were cleaner, and in turn much more nervous. Have you scrubbed enough? Did the scent of your shampoo stick? Oh god how did you have enough time to do your hair? Will it dry in time?

You couldn’t stomach finding out the answer.

You pocketed air in your cheeks as you paced to and from the mirror to your unzipped luggage. You had overpacked– of course you did– and had about half the items strewn across the floor as you tried and failed to find an outfit worth meeting Daniel in again. A dress seemed a bit much and somehow every single pair of jeans you packed squeezed on your stomach a little more than you’d like. You huffed after the fourth outfit, soured mood as you stepped into sweat shorts and an old sweatshirt from college. You were meant to meet Daniel in less than an hour and you were stuck at square one: your hair a ratty mess, make-up strewn across the bathroom sink (untouched), and your luggage exploding with clothes you suddenly hated.

You stood, stared at yourself in the mirror as you gripped on your hairbrush, running it through tangles and an otherwise unruly mess. You dragged and pulled until your hair was smooth. But even then it wasn’t smooth enough, you just didn’t have it in you to care. Your makeup was dragged across your face. You went through the motions, all muscle memory and not a thought about the colors and products. And even at the end of all that, after getting yourself to look less haggard and have your hair somewhat presentable, you still couldn’t stand to look at the mess you’ve made in your room.

You went back over your options, moving through the motions of retrying combinations, mixing and matching, and then putting them away when you concluded you didn’t like the choice. By the end of the hour, you had gotten your room semi-presentable but were still stuck in your loungewear.

And then there’s a knock.

You scratched the back of your head, a little more nervous and a little more irritated. A soft whine escapes you as you stomped your way to the front door. You yanked it open without even bothering to look through the peephole, mind far from any clue as to who it might even be.

But who else could it be?

Daniel smiled with his hands stuffed into his pockets, Enchante hoodie hanging loosely on his shoulders. His curls sit atop his head, messy, flopped over his forehead. His stubble has grown, or maybe it just appears thicker in person. But he stood there, smiling in the hallway, lips parted and ready to greet you if you had given him a chance.

You jumped into his arms like you belonged there, like a magnet pulled to metal. You held on for dear life, arms wrapped tightly as you stuffed your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled just as you remembered– smelled just like home. Slowly, one arm finds its rightful place around your torso while the other comes up so that his free hand could hold your head securely against him. His hold is firm as he lifts you off your feet, squeezes you so nicely you never wanted him to stop. You could’ve stood in that hallway like that forever, if it was ever an option.

Daniel inhaled deeply. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you more.” Your voice seeped into his skin– hot, meaningful, and everything else left in you to give.

He put you down, but you didn’t want him to. His hands come up to hold your face in his hands while his eyes scanned every bit of you. No words, just a gentle hold. You stood there, head heavy in his hands as you stared right back up at him. His tan had faded a bit, his hair much more kempt than you remember. And his hands, oh his hands are rough, loved so well by the life he’s led and yet they move with so much care, so much tenderness. The dim hallway light reflected off his wrist, off blue beads tied together by a black straps. Your heart jumped, warmed at the bracelet you bought him all those months ago around his wrist.

“Looking good toots.”

He laughed loudly as your face contorted into a grimace. Your hands come up to his chest to shove him off, a blow he takes with a grin as he takes a step back. And in succession, his slender fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you back into him.

“I don’t like that nickname.” You swatted his chest, palm and the back of your hand colliding with the soft material of his hoodie, over and over until he’s holding your wrist still while muttering I’m kidding over and over.

You rolled your eyes as you removed yourself from his hold. You invited him into your room, taking quick steps to shut your open luggage before he had a chance to see the carnage of it all. Daniel closed the door behind him for you before he followed your lead into the small hotel room. He plopped himself onto your bed, kicking off his shoes before pushing himself further up. He watched as you folded up the bit of clothes that you had left out sitting on top of your closed luggage before sitting across from him. You smiled, he smiled. Just how it’s always been.

Things sort of unraveled from there. Plans were canceled, phones tossed aside– nothing really mattered anymore. He asked about your flight, you asked about his. He asked about your work, you asked about his. It was back and forth, back and forth, jumping from one bit to the next until three hours had rolled by and Daniel had taken notice. By then you rolled onto your back, hair handing off the bed and legs lounging on top of Danny’s. He’s leant up against the headboard, arms crossed across his middle as he hum contentedly. You looked over at him, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

His hand removed itself from underneath his arm, placing it over yours. “Thank you for coming.”

November in Abu Dhabi was not as hot as you expected it to be. For once you were grateful for over packing because otherwise you would’ve been miserable and slightly embarrassed by the initial four outfits you deemed as enough for the trip.

You met Daniel’s family on Friday. They were just finishing breakfast when you walked up to the McLaren building. Daniel was quick to stand on his feet, hand resting on the small of your back as he gestured to each family member with his free hand. You were introduced as a friend, shook the hands of his relatives with a tight smile as you went down the line. They were sweet, offered to sit with you while you ate breakfast. But you were quick to decline, having already eaten before getting to the paddock.

There were a few familiar faces amongst Daniel’s friends, if your drunken memory serves you correctly. You were greeted with enthusiastic hellos and semi-awkward side hugs. You stood with them in the garage, arms crossed tightly around yourself as you stood around waiting for the man himself. The garage was chaotic, multiple bodies moving too and from and all at once, trying to ready for the two practice sessions of the day. Your headphones were tuned to the live broadcast, so you spent the next fifteen or so minutes of commentary about Red Bull this and Ferrari that, Max this, Charles that. But then you hear it. Here comes the Honey Badger, about to hop into the car for the first Practice session of his last weekend with McLaren– his last weekend in Formula 1.

Your head turned to look up at the screen just in time to see Daniel smiling at the camera, tuning out the conversation about Daniel between commentators. He waved into the lens before turning to Michael. They exchange a few words, the camera just zooming in before switching back to the Ferrari garage. You avert your gaze back to the present, the bodies clearing to make way for Daniel to climb into his car. The loved driver walks down the line of his friends, exchanging fistbumps and a bit of laughter before finally standing up before you.

You could feel the stares, the careful watching to see what you two were about to exchange? A couple of light hearted jokes? A fistbump? Maybe even a hug?

You tried to ignore it, looking up at him with a smile you hoped resembles the bit of faith you had in him. “Have fun out there.” Your hands fiddled with each other, nervous nails picked at the skin of your cuticles.

“Thanks. I’ll see you for the debrief?”

You blew out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

You didn’t see him until after the round of press after both practice sessions, but of course it was only for a fleeting moment. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze as he asked about you– always you. And then, with much reluctance, he allowed you to return to the hotel while he stayed back for another briefing.

Quali day proved to be even more energetic than the last. People moved faster, time ticked louder, and the cars pushed and pushed. You enjoyed the smell of burnt rubber, of the adrenaline that ran through the track. You held your breath for most of the day, eyes trained on the times put up, jaw clenched as Daniel clawed his way to Q3. The air in the McLaren garage is light, happy, hopeful, as the boys stroll back into the garage. Rough pats to the back and loud words of encouragement roll through. Daniel was followed by a crowd of people. They all spoke atop each other, trying to get the last word in and trying to get a response from the driver before he disappeared. But he was already gone the moment he laid eyes on you. He waved the people away. Later, later he mumbled, offering them a smile before speeding up the pace and leaving the people to wait on later. You stood when Daniel approached, allowing him to wrap one arm around you in a quick squeeze.

“Congratulations Danny,” You looked up at him, smiling widely as you leaned into his hold.

“Thanks sugar.” There was a pause, allowing the nickname to sink in before he scrunched up his nose and shook his head. You burst out in soft giggles and he grinned widely. “Somehow that’s worse than toots.”

“Definitely worse.”

Race day was exhilarating. It was a rush, even if you were only sitting in the garage. You had your legs crossed over each other, muscles tense the entire time. You couldn’t relax, not while you held out for a bit of hope in Daniel’s race. Maybe no one expected much from him these days, but you expected nothing short of greatness. You sat in your chair, silently praying that Daniel would find that sweet release, the sweetest satisfaction in that car. You gripped the lanyard of your pass tightly, leant forward towards the screens as if it would make him move faster. You spoke to him, even if he couldn’t hear you through the turns of the circuit.

And then it happened. The checkered flag was waved, the race had been won, the champion continued his reign. The night saw multiple ends, the night closed on the last of the honey badger in McLaren. While everyone jeered for Max, applauded for Sebastian, bid adieu to Nicky and Mick, you held your heart for Daniel. Your eyes watered as he spun the MCL36 in circles, sending smoke and his love to the crowd as they said their goodbyes. Quietly, you slipped back into the McLaren Hospitality, sat around by the door of his driver room as he got done with the last of press. You watched on the screens, like you always do, watched the laughter, the happiness, the adoration exchanged between Daniel and his comrades. All the hugs and see you soons, all the hope every single person held for him and his return.

Daniel was a friend to everyone, beloved by everyone, and that included you. You felt a bit of pride at the thought, but maybe a bit of emptiness at the potential. Daniel was your friend, albeit your best friend. He had become your person, even if you had spent most of your time getting to know him through the screen. But that didn’t negate the fact. It didn’t change the affection you had for him, the adoration and respect you kept for Daniel in your heart. It didn’t change the fact that maybe, just maybe, you felt more for him than you’d ever admit. But that was a little secret between you and your bedroom ceiling.

Daniel returned to you by himself. No crowds of people begging for a second of his attention, no staff reading off his agenda, not even Michael trying (and failing) to make Daniel laugh. He was all by himself, tired, disheveled, shoulders slumped and his face expressionless. You stood at one end of the room of the McLaren Hospitality and Daniel at the other. You stared at each other, unsure what was left to say after everything that happened in the hours behind him.

And then you see it– the water brimming in his eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. You saw the frown that curved into his lips, the way his chest puffed shakily as he drew a breath. He was stuck in his place, stuck in the sadness that had finally settled in his spirit. So you met him where he stood, arms wrapping around his frame so that he could finally, finally, let go. His hands held you close to his chest, the pads of his fingers pressing into your shoulder blades. He buried his face in your shoulder, squeezing you so tightly that you found it hard to breathe.

“It’s really over.”

You pulled his face from your skin to hold in your hands, pouting as your thumbs collected the sadness that spilled onto his cheeks. Left to right, up and down, you scanned his face– every freckle and wrinkle, the way his bottom lip protrudes in a pout. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay. It’ll be good. Okay?”

He nodded, head shaking quickly in your grasp as his hands scramble to pull you back into him. He held you like you were going to slip away just as every single good thing in his life had this last year. His hand comes up to the back of your neck, holding firm and warm, as he inhales deeply. “ It’ll be okay. It’ll be good.”

It’ll be good.

Daniel sent you flowers in December.

An arrangement of yellow and orange poppies arrived at your door two days before Christmas. They were waiting for you when you arrived from last minute shopping. You picked up the vase, cradled it in your arms as your keys jingled into the keyhole. The windmill keychain from August twinkled in the dim hallway lighting, reminded you of the day spent with your favorite person.

You set the flowers down on the counter, all other belongings forgotten at your feet. You picked at the small envelope that sat in the middle of the vibrant flowers. Inside, a note– typed, but the sign off was enough to tell you who had sent them.

𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢.

-𝟹

Your heart swelled. Swelled so big you were sure it was going to burst underneath you. You bite down on your bottom lip, hard, trying to fight the awe-struck– no, lovestruck, smile that creeped onto your face. You tried to swallow those feelings down, just as you had for months now. Forget the butterflies and what they symbolize, or the way you jumped at the sound of your phone pinging or ringing. Forget, forget, forget.

Except that you can’t forget. You can’t forget or ignore or pretend like you haven’t fallen for this… this… for him. It’s not doable, and you had been fooling yourself thinking that if you pretended for long enough, that those feelings would cease to exist. Instead they festered, grew into a monster that held you tightly. In between blue and gray text bubbles, after hour long facetime calls, you found yourself falling for him. It was hard to admit to yourself because you felt silly at the notion that you could feel that way for someone you talked to on the phone. But it wasn’t silly, it was so fucking real. You were consumed by the smell of fresh fallen rain and curly hair, consumed by chasing the feeling of him gnawing at your heart. You were all consumed by Daniel. Him, him, him.

You took a photo of the flowers, sending it as a text.

You 5:24 PM Poppy, huh?

His response was almost immediate.

Daniel 5:24 PM You like it?

You smiled. Smiled so wide your face ached. Daniel was halfway around the world. Fourteen something thousand kilometers away from you. He spent Christmas in the warmth, surrounded by his family while you were bearing it in bitter cold London. Thousands and thousands in distance, and still he makes you smile like he was sitting in the room with you.

You 5:25 PM Love it. Thank you Danny

Christmas came and went as it always does. And in the week between then and the end of the year, Daniel called you. His face occupied your phone screen, that stunning smile plastered on his face. It was ten in the morning on the 27th of December, you were in the middle of a book– one you had been putting off because of work and traveling and enjoying the reality with Daniel in it. So you were reading, but then he called and the passage was forgotten.

He claimed he had no reason to call you, that it was just because. It made your heart do flips, stupidly and erratically beating at the notion just because. You smiled, hummed as a response as you set the book aside. You asked about his holiday, he asked about yours. And just as easily as it has been before, the conversation sprouted into hours on the phone. You had slowly retreated into your bedroom, under the covers, had Daniel propped on the pillow just like he belonged. It was space reserved for him, even if he’s never laid in your bed before. God you left so much room for him in your life, he didn’t even know the half of it. He had become part of your equation, part of every what if that came across your mind– it was truly terrifying.

Daniel quieted around twelve for you. He was sitting back on his couch, phone resting in his palm as he held it up high enough you had a view of his face. His gaze was soft as he stared at you, smiling sweet.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.”

Another pause in the conversation. A brief moment of silence with an unasked question hanging in the space between you. You almost wanted to pry, but he beat you to the punch– answered the impending what you were about to whine.

“I’m flying back to Monaco for New Years… and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

You raised a brow. “You miss me?”

“I always do.”

Your heart screeched, cheeks ached with another smile. God you couldn’t stop fucking smiling.

You shook your head, “Silly.”

“Not silly. Just true. Come to Monaco. Please?”

How could you ever say no to him? How could you ever allow yourself to miss an opportunity to see Daniel again?

So on the 29th of December you flew the two something hours to Nice, took the train to Monaco and jumped straight into Daniel’s arms. He held you like it's all he ever knew, arms wrapped so tightly you’re sure you’d be stuck to him even if he let go. Your face is pressed into his sternum, his scent consuming you with a sharp inhale. Fuck, you would never get tired of this.

December 30 was quiet– the calm before the storm. You were glued to the couch, Daniel’s hip attached to yours, while you watched movie after movie. In the first hour your legs were on top of his, then you switched the next hour. After the second movie, you were tucked into his side while his fingers twirled a lock of your hair. Round and round, a semblance to the way your mind circled him. Your thoughts ran in circles around Daniel, about what it would be like to be able to live that reality for longer than the week you were spending with him. You allowed yourself to imagine more Friday’s spent lazily with him.

Daniel looked down at you as the credits rolled. “Thanks for coming out. I haven’t said it, and I should’ve the moment you landed.”

You hummed, leaning into him further. He tightened his hold on you, it made you feel safe. “Anything for you.”

Truly, anything for him. You would do it all, all Daniel had to do was ask.

You woke up later than normal on the last day of the year. You laid in the guest bedroom of Daniel’s Monaco apartment, alone, tangled in sheets that regrettably smell just like him. The sound of glass clinking and heavy footsteps moving about the space travels into your room, muffled by the shut door. And as easily as you fall into a state of bliss at the sound, your mind rolls in daydreams about what it would be like to wake up to it over and over and over again. You were losing yourself, you knew that, but there was nothing stopping you from doing so. You free fall into the imagination of domesticity with Daniel and how easy and good it would all be.

Three soft taps. Are you up?

“Yeah, come in.” You sit up in bed, doing your best to comb down your bed head with the palm of your hands. Daniel poked his head through first before his body followed. You watched quietly as he made his way around the room, rolling into bed right next to you. He laid his head down against the pillow and you fought the urge to lay with him. Instead, you lean against the plush headboard and stare down at him.

“Happy New Year's Eve,” His voice is hoarse, thick with sleep. Surely he’d just woken up.

You rubbed your eyes, smiled all the while. “Happy New Year's Eve.”

He turned over, smiling into the fabric of his pillow case as he threw his arm over your thighs. Like it’s normal, like he’d done it before. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to get breakfast, but I think I could use another hour of sleep.”

Your fingers twirled his curls, round and round, as you nodded. “Sleep then.”

“Wake me in an hour? Then I promise we can go get breakfast.”

“One hour. Gotcha.”

Your fingers grazed his scalp, massaged his head of curls as he quickly fell back asleep. His body was limp next to yours, hot breath beating down on your skin.

True to your words, you shook him awake an hour after he fell asleep. It’s been an hour. He groaned softly, arm tightening around your legs and pulling himself against the soft skin of your flesh. Five more minutes. You didn’t have it in you to pry, so you let him fall back asleep. Soft snores fill the space of the guest bedroom, and you sit there for another five minutes. You shook him once more, but he was a goner, lost in a deep sleep and dreams you could only wish to know.

Slowly, gently, reluctantly, you pulled yourself from Daniel’s hold. You padded your way through his apartment, getting yourself acquainted with where things belong, in search of breakfast because while Daniel was too tired to care, you were hungry and needed food sooner rather than later.

You cooked an omelet, made use of the last of his eggs and the veggies that were in his fridge. You could do without bacon for now– well you had to because he didn’t have it. You allowed the soft sizzle in the pan to lull your nerves to a sort of calmness you haven’t had since being here with Daniel. You tried to find a bit of clarity for yourself as you made breakfast. And right when you think you’re okay, that the daydreams and the yearning mean nothing, he’s in the room with you.

He hadn’t said a word yet, but you knew the sound of his feet shuffling. He leaned up against the counter, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before watching you expertly flip the cooked egg over. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I promised you breakfast.”

You shook your head, taking a quick glance up at him with a smile. “That’s okay, Danny. Want one?”

He nodded, moving around you as he reached for the cupboard above your head. The kitchen was large, spacious, so clearly put together for a bachelor who didn’t spend too much time there. But despite the space, you found yourself bumping into Daniel, feeling the way his fingers trailed along your back as he moved behind you. You moved in sync, bumping into each other was just part of the dance. That’s what it felt like with him, a dance to music only the two of you seem to hear. It was always a dance, of pushing and pulling, going round and round until your head spun. It was beautiful. It was good.

You didn’t get ready until much later. The sun had just begun to touch the ocean, painting the sky shades of orange. You watched from the guest room, legs crossed while your make-up laid sprawled out on the bed. And while you swiped brush after brush, a pat of a sponge here and there, you grew to envy the ocean. How lucky it is to be kissed, to be loved so badly that the sun returns to it every day. You yearned for the same, to have such warmth sink beneath you and make you feel whole. But most of all, you yearned for Daniel.

You felt a little ridiculous. You felt stupid, insecure, so goddamn undeserving of the way your heart ached for him. You felt crazed, your head was a mess of thoughts of curly hair and the comforting smell of rain after a drought. You felt ridiculous because Daniel seemed to consume you, and you aren’t even sure if you consumed him in the same way. That’s when the fear settled, the need to run in the opposite direction because my god, what were you doing here?

You had to stand from your spot on the bed, make up half done and not set, to pace the room. You tried to shake off the way every nerve ending fizzled with this… you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t admit it. Because how could you? Why should you?

Maybe you hadn’t fallen, maybe this was a misplaced infatuation. Give it a couple more days, maybe even a couple more weeks and he would be nothing more than your friend, nothing more than a person who made life a little easier. Nothing less, nothing more.

But the tears cloud your vision, your hands shook, bile was climbing up the length of your throat. You felt so fucking sick.

You sit back down in the bad, blowing out a breath through pursed lips. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. You flopped onto your back, tubes and compacts of make-up clattering against each other as the bed rippled your movement. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. It was fine, you were fine, everything was okay.

Right?

You aren’t sure how managed to finish getting ready, truth be told the last hour or so were a blur. But you were ready, buckled into the front seat of his McLaren 720s, trying to pace your heart with the heavy bass song playing through the speaker. Daniel was oblivious to your sudden mental turmoil, more than excited to see his friends and celebrate the end of one of the worst years of his life. He had expressed multiple times just how excited he was to let loose, to pretend like his reality isn't real, even if it was just for a couple of hours.

The club was bass heavy, so loud that you could hear it as Daniel’s car slowed to a stop. Valet opened the door for you, stuck his hand out to help you exit the rather low sports car. Daniel grabbed the ticket before resting his hand on the small of your back and led you into the club.

It was packed, filled to the brim with people who were probably so drunk they wouldn’t make it to midnight. You followed the bouncer’s lead, along the perimeter of the club and into the section behind the DJ booth. You recognized a few faces, some who were in the garage with you, others who drove the car. You were introduced, reintroduced, Daniel shouted your name over the blaring music. This is my best friend!

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend.

You smiled, tight lipped and polite, even though the panic had begun to return. You shouldn’t be there, you shouldn’t have come. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed a drink.

You needed several drinks– and several were served to you. Vodka this, vodka that. Oh a round of shots, why not? You had begun to lose yourself to the booze and the music, the nerves and the panic long forgotten. All that mattered was that you were moving along to the bass and that you felt good. You couldn’t feel the way your toes screamed in pain, begging you to sit down, even for a second.

You only stopped because you had taken another shot and the world suddenly tilted to the left. Daniel met you on the sofa, arm resting on the back of it as he leant down to talk into your ear. “Slow down Poppy, we still got an hour til midnight!”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning into him because god you just needed to feel him. His hand fell onto your shoulder, holding you firmly. His lips mouthed something. Water? It must’ve been. You nodded, throat suddenly dry. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth in a feeble attempt to get rid of the cottonmouth. Daniel handed you a glass, and you sipped. You sipped until the ground leveled and your mind didn’t spin in circles. Sipped on the glass until Lando pushed it out of your hands and replaced it with a flute of champagne. Ten minutes! Fuck had that much time pass you by already?

Slender fingers slipped onto your waist as you stood from the couch, the pads of his digits pressing firmly into your flesh. You felt secure, safe. Your mind still teetered between sobriety and inebriety, but you knew you’d remember the following moments for the rest of your life.

Ten minutes turned into five, turned into one. And then you were counting down the seconds. The club was loud, the excitement building as you ticked closer to one. Daniel’s arm moved from your torso to hang over your shoulder. He pulled you into his side, squeezing tighter and tighter as he counted down. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year! The crowd erupted into a mess of cheers, of heavy bass and the pop of streamers. Lights flickered, and you caught brief glances of hugs and kisses, of happy welcomes and excitement of what 2023 was meant to bring. And oh how you wished that it was you. That you were a person in the crowd being kissed, even if it was some cheesy cliche. You just wished it were you.

You made the mistake of looking up at Daniel, of letting curiosity get the best of you to see if he was seeing what you were. You wanted to know if he had the same desire written on his face as it was on yours. But instead, his gaze was already on you. Your cheeks burned, and you thanked the heavens that the lights distracted from the fact that you were blushed. Daniel smiled widely, removing his hand from your shoulder to rest on the side of your head. He pulled you into him, lips pressing into the soft skin of your temple. Once, twice. Then he craned his neck, pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting his lips hover over your ear.

“Happy New Year, Poppy.”

You smiled, turned your head again so you could selfishly look into his honey eyes again. And maybe you knew that in doing this, your face would only be mere centimeters apart. All it would take is a simple lunge, an accidental shove. So close, so fucking close. You silently wished that he would, that he’d give into the cliche and kiss you. Your brain was screaming, begging. Kiss me! Just fucking kiss me! But all he did was smile. Dimples imprint themselves into the soft skin of his cheeks, his gaze so soft you wanted to vomit. He looked at you in a way that made you dizzier than all the liquor you consumed that night. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, touch just ghosting your skin before planting firmly on the junction of your neck and jaw. Kiss me! Please kiss me! Won’t he do it?

You felt his fingers leave your cheek, creep to the back of your head and once again he’s pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

You sighed, spirit deflated, even as you shut your eyes and leaned into the kiss once more.

He cupped your cheeks again, both hands this time, squishing the soft flesh as he forced your gaze up at him. He couldn’t see the disappointment in your features, too distracted by the lights, the music, by everything else. He smiled. He always smiled. “I love you Poppy, I love you, I do!”

Your heart flipped, rattled your ribs, beat loudly in your fucking head. You bit back a smile even though all you wanted to do was grin. You scrunch your nose, feigned disgust even if you were elated. He loved you, he loved you he did.

You fell in love with Daniel in January.

Though, you’re sure that you had loved him for much longer. January was when you fully admitted it to yourself. No more denying, no more panic. Pure acceptance for the fact that you were in love with Daniel Ricciardo.

You left Monaco on the second, much to your dismay. If you had it your way, you would’ve stayed forever. But work had resumed and your boss only let you take off an extra day and nothing more. So Daniel drove you to the train station, dragged your luggage out of his car and walked you all the way to the gate. Your ticket was clenched tightly in your first as you looked up at him, a bit of wind blowing at the stray hairs that couldn’t be held back by the elastic. He reached out, tucked a hair behind your ear before resting his hand against your cheek. It was warm, reeked of generic hand sanitizer. You leaned into him, smiling even if your chest ached.

“Wish you could stay longer.” He muttered.

“Wish you would just come with,” You countered. With me, you wanted to emphasize but… the statement seemed too intimate. With me. Come with me, please.

He hummed, fingers hooking around the back of your neck to pull you into him. Your face collided with his chest in a soft thump, nose dug deep in the plush material of his t-shirt, just above his sternum. His hands readjust themselves around you, conforming to your frame against his body. Like a puzzle tab finding its perfect nook. He hugged you tightly, planted a kiss to the top of your head before flattening the hair in the same spot. You’d miss this, you thought to yourself, the few kisses given, the plethora of hugs exchanged, you were going to miss this. You were going to miss him.

You’re the first to step out of the embrace, blinking away tears that had just begun to blur your vision. You coughed an awkward laugh, smiled, tried about anything to hide how sad you really were in the moment. But Daniel saw right through you, clicked his tongue as he nudged your chin playfully.

“Don’t do that. Don’t cry.”

His words had the opposite effect, pushed the tears over the brim of your waterline. You tried to laugh it off, mock yourself and the ridiculous splay of emotions. You shook your head and swatted his hands away as he reached out to you again. “I’m fine, I'm fine. If you hug me again, I’m afraid I may just end up staying.”

Daniel’s reflexes were quick, right hand jolting forward to latch onto yours. He easily pulled you into him, quick enough so that you could catch the way his body rumbled with a chuckle beneath your touch. “I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing.” You indulged, melted right back into him, inhaled the sweet sweet smell of his cologne, committed every node to memory.

You wondered what the travelers walking to and fro, squeezing past you without an ounce of politeness, were thinking of the two of you. Could they see it? Could they feel it? Or were you just two losers standing in a train station delaying a needed goodbye?

Daniel pressed a gentle kiss against your cheek, soft lips catching you by surprise. His head dipped into your neck, arms squeezing you tightly. “I’ll miss you my little wildflower.”

You grinned, stifled a little laughter at the cheesy nickname as you inhaled deeply, “You’re getting really good at this nickname thing,” You teased, fingers coming up to play with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. “I like Poppy more.”

His body vibrated in a quiet chuckled, nodding against your shoulder. Noted.

You pulled away again, eyes flickering to the clock for a brief moment before your fingers latched onto the handle of your luggage. Daniel sighed, tilted his head in a sad smile. You caught the way he flexed his fingers at the release of your own, rings glinting in the light.

“So… goodbye?” You shrugged and he grinned, “See you soon?” You bit back a smile, “Arrivederci?”

You giggled, nodding your head, “See you in London.”

His lips part, a playful and breathy ah falling from his mouth as he nodded. London, London, London he says softly. “I’ll see you there Poppy.”

You had a multitude of responsibilities waiting for you in London, your boss made that perfectly clear with the two lengthy emails sent to your inbox as you sat on the train. There were unfulfilled plans with friends, a declutter day penciled in for the following Friday, and dinner with your parents. You had a million and one things that needed your attention, and for whatever reason, the five or so hours of travels back home, you spent in thought of Daniel.

His kiss, his touch, his everything was stamped onto you, it was as if it were all happening in that moment. It made you miss him even more, made your heart ache as you continued to move further and further from him. In the bits of sleep you found in your travels, your mind was consumed by him. Always him. You imagined that this was love, it was the only logical explanation. And so on the plane, while watching your flight path on the screen ahead of you, quietly and honestly, you admitted to yourself that this was love. You were in love.

And you were terrified.

London greeted you coldly, the wind biting at your cheeks as you lugged your luggage from the Uber to the warm lobby of your complex. The doorman greeted you with a smile, wished you a happy new year as you passed him by. Exhaustion had you by the talons, gripped at your body and spirit and forced you into bed. You crawled underneath your covers, pulled a pillow to your chest as you let sleep take over you. And in your slumber, as you drowned in the fantasy of Daniel and all the what ifs, you miss his call. You missed the first, the second, the third, and then finally the soft ping of his text tone.

Daniel 8:53 PM Are you awake? Please say you’re awake.

And another.

Daniel 8:55 PM You should’ve stayed. I wish you stayed.

Daniel flew into London from New York in February. After he had fulfilled every press, interview, tiktok, whatever kind of obligation being a third driver entailed– he hopped on a plane and flew straight to you.

What was meant to be a surprise turned out to be spoiled by his slight recklessness. He accidentally sent his pinned location to you instead of his friend, and in turn showed you that he was standing in the middle of Heathrow Airport. Then half an hour later, with excited text after text sent and a frenzied cleaning of your apartment, he was at your door and you were jumping into his arms. He laughed, walked you back into your home with one hand wrapped around your torso to keep your feet off the ground, and the other dragging his suitcase.

You’re here you mumbled into his hoodie, arms squeezing tight.

I’m here.

Being with Daniel at home felt good. It felt normal. It felt right. And the longer he stayed, the longer you watched him fit himself in your life, the harder you fell. There was a small part of you that wished he didn’t mold into your routines so well, that a bit of awkwardness had struck and maybe even cured you of this hopeless feeling that clenched your heart so tightly. You wished that his place in your life didn’t make sense but it did. Daniel sitting across from you for breakfast, nursing a second bowl of cereal made sense. His fingers looping your hair messily through a scrunchie while you cooked dinner made sense. The smell of fresh rain imprinted in every corner of your home just made sense.

Daniel, walking into your room and sliding into bed next to you while you read a book, made the most sense. You didn’t flinch at the dip in the bed, or the way his shoulder leaned onto you, or the smell of his shampoo in his damp hair. Ignoring your sporadic heartbeat was a challenge, but being here with him was easy. You hummed in acknowledgement, resting your head on his shoulder as you finished out the chapter. You see the glow of his phone screen, the flicker in color as he taps through stories and posts, leaving them all on mute as a courtesy to you. You flipped through a couple more pages before tucking your bookmark in and shutting it. The book falls on your night stand with a soft thud, discarded and forgotten as you turn your attention to Daniel.

“So I was thinking,” He mused, tapping something on his phone before setting it on his lap, “I leave in three days, so I think it’s only right we have a real sleepover.”

Your heart did flips. Back flips, cartwheels, a double back handspring with spin and perfect landing. Danced its way all the way to the top of your throat, supported by the nerves and the intent of his proposal. “You tired of the couch?” You teased, stabbing your index finger into his bicep playfully. He chuckled.

“Only a little. But I’ll gladly sleep on the floor if you’re too chicken to share a bed.”

You swung your pillow over at him, smacking him in the chest. Shut up, you stuttered, sinking deeper into your bed. You try not to let his loud laughter tinge your cheeks red, to make the tips of your ears heat up as you silently wish the world swallowed you whole. You were being dramatic, maybe. He was teasing, of course you knew he was. But fuck the accusation could not be any truer. You were fucking terrified of sharing a bed with Daniel, how it would blur another line of your friendship, confuse you further, and in turn making saying goodbye in three days time infinitely harder. But you were a little dumbstruck when it came to your affections for Daniel, a little self-indulgent and allowed your little heart to take the reins of all your decision making.

So that's how you end up lying dangerously close to the edge of your bed, watching as Daniel moved your pillows around to make a little more room for himself. Daniel. Making room for himself. In your bed.

You were gonna be sick.

He didn’t take too long to settle into his side, pulling on the duvet over his abdomen. Pillows had been thrown to the floor, stuffed animals perched nicely on your desk after you so kindly asked him to. The mattress was bare between the two of you– no pillow wall or some imaginary line established. No claims to a side, or a little jab to remind the other to stay on their side of the bed. Just the plain sheet and a bit of space rests between you.

Daniel clicked the lamp on his side of the bed off, darkness engulfing the space immediately. It took a minute or two for your eyes to adjust to the dark, to finally be able to trace the silhouette of Daniel’s features against the streetlight bleeding through your curtains. You trace the curls resting on his forehead, the bump on the bridge of his nose, down to the curve or each lip, and the point of his chin.

“You’re staring,” He muttered.

“No I’m not.” Yes, you were.

He didn’t comment, just turned onto his side so that he could look at you. Daniel tucked his hand underneath his pillow, pulling it flush against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The space between you was gaping, large and awkward, begging to be occupied by the warmth of a body– maybe yours. He noticed, pulled the covers down before patting the cream sheet softly.

“I’m not gonna bite Poppy.”

You scrunch your nose, reaching out to poke him with your index finger. “How can I be sure?”

A single poke, pushing the tip of his nose inward before he juts his chin upward, catching your index finger between his teeth.

“You can’t.”

You turned your face into the pillow as you flexed your hand open, using the force of your other four fingers to push against his face. His laughter rumbled against your palm, lips wet and leaving a stamp of him in the middle of your hand. You feel his slender fingers come up around your wrist to pull your hand away and push it back into your chest. The warmth that emitted from his skin stayed with you, molded into your skin lest you forget how Daniel felt against you.

You didn’t budge from your position on the bed, and neither did he. Two people with an unreasonable amount of space between them– it was almost laughable. You wondered if he was as scared as you were to cross this line drawn in the sand. You wondered if he was afraid he’d get addicted to holding you, that he might never want to leave. Because you were afraid. You were afraid of losing yourself to a man you had no claim over, and falling so deep into him that you’d never find a way out. So you kept the bit of space, forced a bit of restraint on your heart that seemed to be reaching out to him.

Sometime between hushed whispers and the soft sounds of sheets rubbing together as you adjusted and readjusted yourself in your place, you fell asleep. You dreamt of the rain, the way it kissed your skin, kissed the Earth and all that is in it. You dreamt of a garden filled with poppies, of bright colored petals that poked out of the grass. You dreamt of familiar smiles, the sound of laughter. God, you dreamt of happiness.

The sun seeps through your curtains, golden light flooding the room. It shines the brightest between the curtains, peeking through to pull you from your slumber. You groan softly, burying your face deeper into warm skin, pulling the duvet over your shoulder. Toned arms shift around you, hold you tighter before mumbling incoherencies and drifting back to sleep.

Without the cologne, Daniel smells like citrus scented soap. Bright, sweet, stuck to his skin even after tossing and turning all night. You almost envy the way he never seems to smell bad, how beautiful smells like peeled oranges or rained-on flowers stick to him. You envy the way he snores softly, clutching on to sleep better than you ever could. Because now you’re awake, mind racing against your heart as you wrap your head around how you laid: tangled up with Daniel.

You lay stiff, terrified out of your fucking mind as Daniel holds on to you for dear life. He’s so warm. The kind of warmth that compared to the sun beating down on your skin on a cool spring day. The kind that relieves you of goosebumps, of chilly fingertips and the feeling that the tip of your nose might just fall off. Daniel was like the sun in a lot of ways, you conclude.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force yourself to return back to your dreams. But it burns where your skin meets Daniel’s– hot, sticky, melting together. You can feel the dips of his muscles against you, the firmness to them even if he held you so softly. His arm lays over your torso, curled in towards you to keep you close to him, while his chin rests on the top of your head. Your face is positioned between his collarbones, tip of your nose just ghosting the supple skin there. You try to turn your head, find a place in which you didn’t drown in him, but no matter where you turned, you were comfortably stuck to him.

Daniel groans above you as you try to turn your head again, squeezing you tighter. “You move too much in your sleep.” Sleep weighs down on his voice, makes it heavy and gravely, rough with exhaustion. You smile, humming as you stuff your face back into his chest.

“Sorry.”

He hums, “Morning.”

“Morning.”

You lay with Daniel quietly, stuck in the position you woke up in. No one moves, no one speaks, just enjoying the soft lull of steady breathing and the world starting its day without the two of you. Cars pass by your street and birds converse outside your window– you imagine they were talking about the sun. You lay wrapped in Daniel until he shifts, pulling his arm from your torso to rub his sleep-riddled face. You look up, chin resting in the middle of his chest. You watch his lips stretch into a yawn, the way his index finger and thumb come up to wipe the tears that brim at his eyes. And then he cranes his neck, points his chin downwards so that he can catch a glimpse of you.

And he smiles.

“Told you I don’t bite.”

Daniel leaves in three days. He reminds you over breakfast, biting into a piece of toast like it isn’t a big deal. Three days left of this, of breakfast in the mornings and his face before bed. You smile sadly into your oatmeal, mixing the fruit around the slurry before spooning it into your mouth. Silverware clatters against porcelain, it echoes against the walls of your home. It makes your heart miss him before he’s even gone.

The days blend into the other, no memory seemed to have a cut off. Daniel’s last three days with you were a lump sum of memories, colliding, meshing into each other, dependent on the hours before so that the now made sense. And in every moment, all the laughter and smiles, the almost-touches and almost-kisses, the larger the space in your heart grew for Daniel. Your mind let you wander treacherously through the what-ifs, the maybes, and the could bes. What if we. Maybe we. We could be. We, we, we.

The night before his flight, you took him to a work thing. That’s how you described it as you helped him pick between two polos. You point at the striped one before flopping onto bed. “It’s just this weird game night. It’s supposed to boost morale, help us bond. It’s been a rough couple months in the office so this is corporate’s way of building– well, rebuilding the peace.”

Daniel nods, pulling off his shirt before shrugging on the navy striped button up over his shoulders. “So what is it… like poker? Black Jack maybe?”

You ignore the way his abdomen flexes as he readjust the shirt, the buttons still undone and swaying with his movement. “Maybe. I dunno, I heard someone from accounting was gonna bring scrabble.”

He laughs like you were joking. But low and behold, as he walked into the pub behind you, three people were already seated at a table elbow deep in a game of scrabble. Tiles scattered the board as two of the three players argued about the validity of the word. Cards were thrown around, smacked on the table to show off a good hand. Poker chips clatter as they’re pushed across the tables, and littered in all that mess is booze being bought left and right. Between the bustling of bodies and the sweet buzz of conversation, you can just hear the bass of some EDM mix playing on the loudspeaker.

You and Daniel make your way to the bar, immediately greeted by the people who work in your department. They smile up at Daniel, wide-eyed as they shoved you playfully. You didn’t tell me you were friends with the Daniel Ricciardo! You mouth a quick I’m sorry as phones are thrusted in his direction– all of which he takes gracefully, taking selfie after selfie. And after maybe the tenth one, you reach into the crowd of people, gripping his wrist tightly as you pull him to you.

“Alright guys, he’s meant to be on break, leave him alone now.” You wave your hand in the air, shooing away coworkers who just grin and nod, a sea of thank yous sent his way his wrist slips from your grasp to offer them a wave. Daniel grabs the beer set out for the two of you, before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you to a table top in the far end of the bar. He sets the beers down before pulling your chair out for you, hand out for you to boost yourself up onto the lifted chair– a hand you gladly take.

Daniel sits to your left, fingers snaked around the neck of the amber bottle as he brings it up to his lips to take a sip. You watch quietly, spinning the bottle between your index finger and your thumb, eyes fixated on the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as gulps his beer. He doesn't seem to notice– or maybe he just doesn't care. Instead he leans in towards you, eyes fixated on the crowd ahead of him, the hands reaching over tables and the soft slaps of cards being shuffled. “So, what do you think, Uno or Cards Against Humanity?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, sucking in a gust of air between your teeth. “I don't know, as appealing as playing Cards Against Humanity with my coworkers and in turn finding out a little too much about their personal life is, I think Uno might just be our safest option.”

Daniel laughs at your sarcasm. Nodding as he slides out from the table, hand out for you to take. C’mon then, he hums as he encloses your fingers in the warm grip of his hands, tugging you between tables and passer-bys, plopping down at a table of five. You recognize one other person at the table, the dealer, who smiles at you as she deals you and Daniel in. It was meant to start as a friendly little game, with lighthearted laughter and maybe a bit of peaking over at the other’s cards. But between the third and fourth deal, people had begun to throw quid on the table, then all of a sudden you’re down twenty and Daniel was happily collecting the bills on his end. You scowl over at him, nudging his leg with the toe of your shoe.

“You don’t need all this money.”

“Not my fault you suck.” He puckers his lips, sends a kiss over to you in the space between you two.

“Bite me,” You sneer, picking up your new set of seven cards, organizing them by color.

You catch a whiff of his cologne as he leans in. You pull your hand close to your chest, pressing the cards flush against your being as he lines his mouth up to your ear to whisper, “Careful what you wish for.”

Your cheeks flush, bright pink though no one at the table seems to catch it under the dim lighting of the pub. Another game, you’re sure you’ve got the upper hand this time around but then Daniel drops a skip… and then another… and then he stacks a draw two… twice. By the end of the game you had about half the deck of cards in your hands and Daniel counting about forty quid in his hands. You’re scowling again, and he laughs at your misfortune.

You excuse yourself from the table, running up to the bar to get yourself another beer. Stacy– you think her name is Stacy anyway– slides next to you, picking up a bit of conversation. It’s small talk, surface level shit until she’s asking about the boy you had been stuck to all night. She teases you, refers to him as the boy, it makes you feel giddy. To one person in this room, Daniel was your little secret. And it felt nice. It felt good. But you shook your head, the blush taking over your face again as you took the beer that was handed to you, mumbling how he’s just a friend. But Stacy– or is it Sarah? She smiles and shrugs, taking her cocktail as she hops off her bar stool, red straw placed between her coco colored lips to take a sip before stepping back.

“All I’m saying… friends don’t look at friends the way you two look at each other.”

She leaves you at the bar with a sentence equivalent to fuel to a fire. It burns, oh it festers. Your mind reels over every moment, every second you’ve spent with Daniel, trying to figure out how he looked at you.

Your eyes scan over the crowd, the mess of chatter tuned out as you look for a mop of curls which you spot towards the front of the bar. He’s laughing– he’s always laughing. You might’ve been meters away, but you could hear him, the joyful ha has over the multitude of conversation. And for a moment, like every cliche written and produced, the room stops. Suddenly the crowd disappears, the music is turned down, and it’s just you and Daniel. The lamp over the table beams, reflects over his golden skin as he deals the cards down on the table. His fingers are quick, counting quietly to himself as he goes around the table. And when he’s done, he sets the left over cards down in the middle of the table in a neat stack. Before he picks up his set, he reaches over to your seat, pulls the cards together neatly and pats it down before picking up his own. You watch as his slender fingers pick at the cards– that one goes at the end, oh and this one between these two. He picks and pulls, slots cards by cards til he’s satisfied with his line up. Then he squeezes the cards into one stack, setting down on his thigh below the table.

His head turns, you see the soft swing of his curls as he looks around the bar. He looks and looks and oh, relief. Daniel’s shoulders drop when he catches sight of you, a smile so wide your cheeks ache for him. His hand goes up in the air, waving at you to return to your seat. Hurry! You aren’t sure if he actually said it, but you know his lips moved that way. He smiles, his eyes are warm and bright, this sultry kind of brown that you could distinguish from miles away. You miss it as he turns away to immerse himself in a conversation you didn’t care to know about. You smile, just enough so that your cheeks round a bit and your eyes squint in just the slightest. You smile in a way that a girl watches a boy she loves from across the way, watches as he melts into her life. And he melts so well, sits so comfortably without you as he awaits your return. He has his arm slung over your chair, nodding over at someone you could care less about. He laughs at jokes, makes some back, and– god you just couldn’t stop staring. You couldn’t stop watching him. Him, him, always him.

You walk back over to the table, setting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder as you lean down to him. His hand comes up to rest over yours, head turning ever so slightly so that he can see you. Your heart is in overdrive, your body overheating. You try to ignore it. You try, try, try.

“I’m gonna go get some air.”

“You okay?” His brows furrow with concern. You nod, and he doesn’t seem to relax. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Daniel. I’m fine. Just stuffy in here.”

“Well, let me come with.”

He goes to get up from his seat, but you push him back down. “No, no no I’ll be fine.” You smile– you think you do. “I’ll be back. Win this round so you can buy me a drink after.”

He looks unconvinced, eyes scanning your face for a morsel of doubt, for a twitch of lip that would beg him to accompany you. But you keep your expression fair, squeeze his shoulder again, and he concedes. He nods, patting your hand again. “Okay okay, deal.”

Your hand comes up to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as it slips away. He turns his head, watches you walk out the door while the game starts. You feel his eyes burning in a hole in the back of your skull and it only makes you walk quicker.

The cool London air blows the door open, bites at your skin and fights against the warmth pooling with the booze. You wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your palms against your arm, squeezing the flesh there. Your eyes fall shut, inhaling deeply as you try to center yourself, trying to get ahold of your heart, trying to get it to slow down. Tears were threatening you, choking you.

You didn’t want to say bye. You don’t want all this to end, to have Daniel pluck himself out of your company and back to his normal routines. You don’t want to go back to the facetime calls, and debriefs over texts. No you want to smell the rain, you want the cheeky laughter and fighting over who gets the rest of the cereal. You want late night drives to Taco Bell, and early mornings to get coffee because you were too lazy to run your own. But most of all, you want Daniel. You want the good, the bad, all the highs and all the lows. You want every single moment between now and an indefinite future.

And you felt crazy for wanting such a thing.

You hear the door creak behind you, a bit of the conversation escaping with him before he shuts the door with a soft thud.

“Hey, come back inside. You’re missing out on the game.” Daniel bumps his shoulder with yours, a smile so wide it drives fear into your chest. You look up at him, take all the strength left in you to smile– and you hope that you do it well. His smile, bright, excited, so reminiscent of the Daniel you bumped into some time ago. He’s tanned, hair curly, muscles bulky, he’s back to who he was before a string of bad luck wore him down. He was this new Daniel that you had fallen so head over heels for, and it hurt your heart not to say it.

The words sit in your throat, run it dry and make it hard to breathe. You were getting all choked up with a secret you couldn’t bear to keep.

He bumps your shoulder again, “What? Are you scared to lose again?”

God you were so afraid to lose. But maybe you had already lost more than you could ever admit to yourself.

Daniel says your name.

“I’m in love with you.”

You had a dream about this moment. It happened in the rain, colorful poppies potted in a flowerbed by a house, and oh how the world smelled divine. You could still hear the laughter, still see the smile that graced his face. You dreamt about the way he would wrap himself around you, allow you to bury yourself in his warmth and the scent of fresh fallen rain. In every universe, you imagined the way the words would sound coming from his mouth. You imagined the simplicity, the good in the moment.

But then you see his face run pale, lips parted without the words to back him up. You see how he scratches the back of his neck before it comes around to rub his stubble. And then his fingers are running through his hair. He takes a step back, and there’s this space between you that wasn’t there before. Your name rolls off his tongue, sounds so despondent it twists your heart. It sounds so…

“I-I-I-” You stammer like it would mend the situation, “I’m sorry but… I couldn’t keep it in. Couldn’t continue to pretend like my heart didn’t wanna beat out of my chest everytime I see you, so I just had to– I had to say it.”

You see his chest begin to rise with each breath he takes. It’s slow, but deep. His eyes are wide, they’re panicked, they look so fucking afraid.

“Daniel I–” “What are you doing?” Your lips fall shut. What are you doing? You bite down on your bottom lip, palms pressed together as you rub them in front of you to distract from the tears that were already beginning to cloud your vision. Daniel lets out a breath, hands coming up to run through his hair– again. “Why… why would you say that?” His hands rub his beard, again. “Fuck, Poppy why would you say that?”

The air is caught in your throat. The words on your tongue melt away, daydreams dissolve. You were left with your skin and a heart that continues to shatter because Daniel stares at you like you’ve done something wrong. And all you could, all you had the strength to do, is smile. You smile because that’s all you had left to give. A smile that made your lips quiver, cheeks tremble and wet with your sadness. You don’t know what else to do, so you smile.

“I just needed you to know.”

Daniel drops his face into his hands, shaking his head into his palms. You watch him, watch as he mumbles to himself. You watch in tears, your shattered heart at your feet as you wait for the change in tone, wait for a moment you’ll never live to see. He lifts his gaze back up to you, the panic gone and replaced this kind of pity that makes you wish you never said it in the first place.

He says your name with a bit of remorse, and yet it still sounds beautiful. “I… I can’t. Poppy I’m sorry.”

You let out a breath. It’s your turn to turn away, hands coming up to push your hair back as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to take over you. Another shaky breath, another drop of tears onto your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you so broken, you can’t let him have that. No, you refused.

“Poppy–” “Daniel, please.” “Poppy you mean so much–”

“Daniel,” You turn around, hand out to motion him to stop, “Please don’t. Please.”

“You are the greatest friend–” He continues anyway, torturing you with the right thing to say– the most reasonable thing to say, “–I could ever ask for. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. How much I–”

“I don’t want that Daniel I–” “–How much I appreciate you.”

He reaches out for you. You should’ve pushed him away, you should’ve stepped back, but god you are so weak for him. So you bask in the warmth of his hand, the way he squeezes it like he was trying to stitch back that hole he left in your chest. You let yourself rest in the false sense of security for just a second. You stare at the point your skin touches, the way his skin contrasts yours, fingers holding onto yours so tightly. It’s warm. It’s good.

It’s good for all of two seconds, and then you’re crying and pulling yourself from him again. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, shaking your head and smiling. Daniel says your name, desperate to get to you again. But you shake your head, take another step back.

“You don’t know how much you mean to me.” His voice is a whisper, nearly overpowered by the gust of cold wind. “Poppy–”

“Daniel, it’s okay.” Your voice breaks because it’s not. But you pretend that it is to save face, to pretend that you can walk away from this moment with your head held high.

He calls your name again, craning his neck so that he can meet your gaze, and you try to avoid it but he comes into view. His hand comes up, chin tucked in his index finger and thumb to lift your face. “But it's not. I can see it on your face.”

“But it has to be, right?”

You clamp your lips into a tight line, tugging your face out of his hold. It’s quiet, tense, and you’re so fucking miserable. For the first time, there’s a sense of dread. In the months you’ve grown to know Daniel, to fall in love with him, in the time that brought you to this moment– you now feel that dread. It sits heavy in your chest, squeezing your heart so tight you think it might pop. If someone had asked you all those months ago if you could picture walking away from Daniel, your answer would be a resounding no. You could never picture yourself doing it– and even if you could, you could always picture running straight back to him.

But now, now you’re forced to reckon with the reality that you have to walk away and never look back. That if you want to hold on to the very little dignity you have left, you should say your goodbyes and walk away. But where was the good in this goodbye? It was just a promise that this is the end, that the next time you see him would not be of your intention. You would have to accept that the only good in this farewell is that it’s permanent.

So in February you walked away with your heart in your hands and a gaping hole in your chest shaped like Daniel. You walked yourself to the underground railway and sobbed because it was the only thing left for you to do. You clutched onto your chest because it hurt so fucking bad.

Daniel collected his items from your apartment the next day while you cried in your bedroom. He knocked on your door, twisted the knob only to find that it’s locked. He said he’s sorry through the door, he said it over and over you had to pull the pillow over your head.

I don’t deserve you Poppy, his voice is muffled but so fucking clear at the same time, I’m sorry Poppy. I… I’ll see you soon.

And then it was over. Daniel was gone– easily, tragically, and all at once. All the memories that mesh together melted into your sadness. It kept you in bed with the blinds drawn shut. Darkness and despair always paired well together.

Your phone pings, the screen lights up and illuminates the bedroom. But you don’t have the heart to look, because you know who it is. You could see his contact photo, you can see the letters spell out his name. So instead you bury yourself deeper into the pillows and blankets, bury yourself deeper into your hopelessness. For just a moment, you wanted to forget that he existed, that he was every part of your life, that you ever poured your heart to him thinking for a second that he would feel the same way.

Daniel 4:33 PM Please don’t forget about me

You’ll never forget him and everything he was to you. Never.

February blends into March. March into April. April to May, June, July. And suddenly it’s August again.

You lay on the beach in Mykonos, nursing another strawberry margarita. You love strawberry margaritas. But this time around, you stay away from the bustling movements of the bar, instead choosing to lounge by the pool in hopes to catch a tan. After all, what was summer for?

You try to ignore the obvious, what the Mykonos was to you a year prior. The memories it gave the person it brought to you. The laughter. The ease. The smell of fresh fallen rain. All the good in Daniel clung onto you and you clung right back. A year ago you met someone who changed your worldview, caught a glimpse of your soul, before shattering your being. He was the best and worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to you.

August… August and all the months that followed slipped away in a moment in time. It fell to the back of your mind, laid to rest so that you’d find a bit of peace. You hope Daniel is well, wherever he is in the world. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten about you, like how you haven’t forgotten him.

Another sip of your strawberry margarita, drinking down the remnants of slush in the glass before setting it down and laying it back. And the sun disappeared, a shadow took its place. But you were warm, you were comforted, you felt at peace. You felt good. So you smile, hand coming up to block the bits of sunlight that peek behind him. You catch a glimpse of messy curls and a smile so wide you’re sure it hurts.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

d rambles. . . hey girl hey. i haven't put out a fic in fucking ages, sorry bout that. but yay, new blog, new fic!! this turned into a MONSTER, but i think im happy with how it all came together. was the ending a little rushed? maybe. but in my defense, this whole fic turned out soooo much longer than i initially planned. anyways. i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo one shot #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo angst

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literaila · 2 months

Note

how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do

obviously, they’ve all noticed.

the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.

the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.

and then it becomes more than just a… change.

it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.

tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.

and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.

just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.

but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.

and lying to themselves, of course.

eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.

(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).

“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”

he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.

but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.

and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.

megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.

so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.

he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).

but he knows.

and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.

(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).

so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.

“you want me to what, exactly?”

“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”

satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”

megumi gives him another look.

and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.

he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”

“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.

satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.

it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”

“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”

“she needs a break.”

satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”

megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.

“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”

“it’s geology.”

satoru waves a hand, indifferent.

(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.

what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).

“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”

“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”

“buy something else.”

“who taught you to be this stubborn?”

megumi only scowls at him.

satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.

yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.

eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”

megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.

he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.

satoru is nothing if not nosy.

and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.

“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”

“it’s for you.”

there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”

megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.

“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”

he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”

you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.

“what?”

“why are you upset?”

“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“

“are you sick?”

“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“

“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“

“no.”

and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.

satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.

if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.

“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.

“i’m staying here.”

“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“you’re sad.”

“i’m not.”

megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.

for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.

“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”

you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.

satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.

he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—

megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.

like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.

he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.

and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.

climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.

megumi’s learned from the best.

“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”

megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.

and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.

no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.

none of you are very good with words.

but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.

he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.

and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.

you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.

maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.

and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.

there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse

and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”

and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.

#not sure what any of this means but 🤫#a typical family #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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soobnny · 1 year

Text

eighteen — kim seungmin.

trope. best friends to lovers. college au. slow burn. angst. fluff.

synopsis. it takes you a while to realize being known is being loved, and kim seungmin just so happens to be an expert in the study of you.

word count: 19.8k words

warnings. just extreme slow burn. some curse words. sexual jokes. drinking and being intoxicated.

note. again my self indulgent take on seungmin in college :)

one.

Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your phone every chance he gets. So, it really isn’t anything new to wake up to a million notifications from your best friend.

The range of apps from which he bothers you is astronomical.

(Instagram): _seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread lmao this video reminded me of u cos ure an idiot

(Tiktok): seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread us

(Twitter): seungmin replied to your tweet: I’m hungry can u reply to my messages

But nothing, absolutely nothing, can beat the 56 messages and 9 missed calls on your phone. You’d think it was an emergency if not for his last message, shining brightly through your screen.

minnie: i need a new face wash come with me so i can shut up about it 😡

You roll your eyes to yourself, skimming through the notifications on your lock screen without really opening them. It’s mostly just a series of Seungmin asking you if you were awake every hour with a few whining in between about how he’s bored and how you need to wake up.

While you’re laughing at his overdramatic messages (has he been hanging out with Hyunjin too much these days?), you accidentally unleash a storm upon yourself.

You hadn’t meant to click on one of the notifications, and now a taunting “read” is on the bottom of his messages.

Big mistake.

All hell is about to break lose.

The moment Kim Seungmin receives the small indication that you’re finally awake, his face flashes on your screen almost immediately in a Facetime call. It’s tempting to decline his call in favor of burying your face back into your pillows, but the clock reads 11am and you have an annoying best friend that needs your attention. You know never to ignore Seungmin. You’ve learned that the hard way.

Swiping on accept, his head of fluffy hair pops up on your screen. “Finally! What took you so long?” His phone angle shifts so his face shows now – it seems like he’s outside as he’s looking left and right before crossing somewhere.

“Sleeping.” You rub your eyes, propping your phone against a box of tissues so he can see you while you fix your bed.

“Didn’t wanna wake up cause you were dreaming of me?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.

Appropriately, you respond by gifting him your middle finger. “You wish.”

“Did you sleep well?” You hum in response even though you doubt he could hear you amidst the noise outside and the shuffling of your bedsheets. “What did you need?” You grab your phone from your nightstand, walking towards your refrigerator to get a glass of water.

“Face wash. You’re coming with me. Oh, and bring an umbrella, it’s drizzling a little.”

“Gonna have to raincheck.”

Second big mistake.

“Why?” He drawls his question, whining and pushing his phone deeper towards his face so you can see his visible disapproval at your response.

“Seungmin, I just woke up. It’s gonna take me forever to get ready, and you’re already outside.”

There’s a lack of response from his end after a few seconds. When you look back at your phone screen, he seems preoccupied. “Minnie?”

“Wait, wait. I have to hang up, give me a second.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but you don’t say anything else. This was a rare moment when you got to escape from Seungmin’s evil clutches of always dragging you along when he goes out. Looking through your closet for a change of clothes after you shower, you jump at the sudden and very rushed pounding on your door.

You should’ve known better.

Opening the door, a breathless Seungmin slips past the space before pushing your door closed. “Why was Crazy Karen on shift today?” He falls face first on your couch, still heaving after the cardio he’d done to sprint towards your unit.

Seungmin’s been quite the expert at sneaking into your very ‘strict with visitors’ building. Not only has he befriended Derek (the security guard on duty when it wasn’t Karen), he’s gone through every possible entrance and has mastered the way to your door. He’s been doing it for the past three years, to the point you’re convinced he could navigate his way around blindfolded.

Funnily enough, he was basically a criminal in your building. Karen (Crazy Karen, as Seungmin likes to call her) has been trying to catch him for forever. You’re convinced that one more push from Seungmin and she’d be printing flyers with his face on it with a clear “BANNED” message in red bold font and taping it on the walls of your building.

Seungmin’s been able to escape her for months now. Though, despite being an expert vigilante, he still has his lapses. And today, he hadn’t been aware that Karen was on duty. “(Name), she hates me!”

“She hates everyone.” You deadpan. Seungmin’s always found it disturbing that Karen didn’t like him. He was an angel in everyone’s eyes – your parents, Derek the security guard, your professors, your friends. If only they knew better.

With the thousands of people that adore him, Seungmin doesn’t know why Karen was such a tough egg to crack. Maybe she knew better, that your best friend is the devil incarnate, but the devil incarnate that you adore.

“How’d you get here so quickly? Wait… were you already on your way here before I picked up your call?” You ask pointedly, leaning against the wall and furrowing your eyebrows at Seungmin who still hasn’t left your couch, instead making himself comfortable by draping his legs across the armrest and hugging your throw pillow to his chest.

“Yes, cause you were ignoring me!” The pout on his face is so exaggerated, you would’ve smacked it off if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was sleeping!”

“Tomato, tomato. Same thing.”

You concede the argument with a sigh because God forbid he lost an argument to you. “Anyways, (name).” He’s whining again, staring at you while you skim through your clothes. “I’m so hungry, I could eat your couch.”

“You do you, I guess.”

“Do you hate me?”

“Only sometimes.”

This was the funny thing about your friendship with Seungmin. From an outsider’s perspective, they would’ve sworn you two disliked each other – from your pointed responses and backhanded comments towards one another. However, through the lens of your shared friends, they knew you completed each other. Nobody (aside from Minho, and occasionally Jeongin) could match your best friend’s personality quite well, and absolutely nobody could get him as soft as you could. It’s reserved for your eyes only.

Chan jokes around that Seungmin should never drive you away because he’s finally found someone who gets along with him terribly well aside from them. He agrees, but he would never outwardly admit it out loud to his friends or to you. But deep down, he knows that you two understand every inch of each other like you’re a reflection of one another.

With that said, he wouldn’t want to spend his time buying face wash with anyone else.

When he suddenly gets off the couch, you look at him suspiciously. He’s walking in your direction now, beaming with his eyes squinting and lips curving up and hair falling perfectly on his forehead – he looks so cute that your heart starts feeling something you can’t quite identify. “(Name).”

“Seungmin.” He grabs your hands without warning and your heart catapults out of your chest.

“Come with me to buy face wash and we can eat lunch together. Please please, cause I’m your best friend and you can’t say no to me.” Seungmin defends his case like a lawyer desperate to win.

He leans in impossibly closer to your face as a vindictive tactic to get you to say yes, and you’re embarrassed to admit it’s working. You tell yourself you’re only agreeing so he would stop fiddling with your fingers with his perfectly crafted hands and looking at you with his stupid, pretty eyes.

“Fine, now let go of me so I can get a change of clothes. Besides, aren’t you like the number one Touch Hater anyway?”

Seungmin smiles triumphantly to himself, slipping his hands from yours. “How narcissistic of you to think you’re the only one I enjoy holding. I like Kkami too! And Soonie, and Doongie–”

“Why am I being classified with your friends’ pets?”

Kim Seungmin doesn’t admit that you’re the only person he likes to hold. Instead, he shrugs and pushes you towards your bathroom so you could hurry up and he can finally buy his face wash.

two.

The next time Kim Seungmin blows up your notifications is after you’ve just finished your last class of the week.

He’s already waiting for you outside your building, leaning against a lamp post and scrolling through dog videos on Tiktok with a few quokka appearances.

The algorithm confuses Seungmin in that it’s so fast to pick up the videos you’ve liked – even if it was just one. He’s pretty sure he’s only getting these rather abundant quokka videos because Jisung had borrowed his phone once and probably liked a Tiktok. Now it’s everywhere to the point that Seungmin could probably tell you at least 5 facts about them.

He’s been standing there for a good 10 minutes now. He has given up on texting you to ask when your classes end (he reasons your professor must have overtime again), instead just adding a shit ton of videos to his “dog” collection on Tiktok.

When you exit the building with some of your blockmates, you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace at the sight of Seungmin in his oversized gray Dodgers hoodie (one of your personal favorites to steal) and some light washed pants with his cute smile and messy hair.

He looks a little embarrassed, as if he wants the earth to swallow him up right then and there. You suppose it’s because he’s been standing there awkwardly, having to look at people in the passing while waiting for you.

Once you appear though, the embarrassment fizzles away and Seungmin is making his way towards you with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie.

“One more overtime and I’m gonna have to report that professor.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re impatient and you hate having to wait for five minutes.”

“10 minutes. I waited ten minutes today.” You laugh at the boy, attention wavering when your friends bid their goodbyes to you and Seungmin. You wave politely, and Seungmin mimics you, smiling sheepishly and waving back.

You know they’re tripping over themselves after Seungmin smiles and waves back at them. You’ve been told multiple times by your blockmates that your best friend looks like a walking dream – the campus crush from the International Law and Legal Studies building.

You don’t disagree, it’s not exactly like you were blind. Every time you’d walk with Seungmin anywhere, he was bound to get some attention from the people around you.

There are multiple admirers lining up for your best friend, shaking as they make their way up to him just to say ‘hi’ or purposely standing near him during college events. It also doesn’t help that his whole friend group were the campus crush from their respective majors.

Too bad for your blockmates and the multiple people lining up willing to donate their kidneys though. Seungmin doesn’t care much about anything and anyone outside his carefully selected circle.

He’s polite, smiling back and waving and holding small conversations but there’s always a hint of disinterest when they’d try to keep the conversation longer than he’d like. He isn’t stupid and knows there’s always an ulterior motive to get with him. He knows how easy it is to mistake politeness for interest.

“Come on, I want coffee.” How demonic is it to have a friend who’s convinced he’s Bill Gates’ son with the amount of times he’s asked you to eat out.

Seungmin pushes you forward by placing a hand on the small of your back, his other hand clutching his messenger bag, guiding you to walk ahead along the sidewalks of your university.

He makes sure you’re on the safer side of the road, bumping you to move to the side.

You stop in your tracks, shaking your head at the boy and he looks at you with utter confusion. “I’m not coming with you to buy overpriced coffee. I’ve used up all my allowance for the week.”

“Waited for you for ten minutes just to be rejected. Ouch.”

“Sucks to be you.”

You’re about to say your goodbye to your best friend, heels shifting to walk the other way when his hand easily wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to where he’s stood. You slap his hand away, pointing an accusatory finger at his direction. “You are not gonna convince me. Not again.”

Screw him and his large hands and how easy it is for him to maneuver them back around your wrist to keep you in place. “I’ll pay, just come with me.”

You surrender in an instant. Who were you to pass on free coffee?

Seungmin smiles victoriously when you start walking by his side again before his face falls in a pout, going off in a tangent about how you’re only willing to hangout with him if he’s paying and how he’s too young to be your sugar daddy.

You sigh in relief when you reach the campus coffee shop, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filling your senses as Seungmin breathes out in delight.

Going straight to the counter, he orders himself an Iced Americano before turning to look at you. “Just the usual?” You nod your head, moving away to find a seat for the both of you.

Every time you’re in a coffee shop (which is, a lot), you’re reminded of the first time you met Seungmin.

He was working part time at a coffee shop, trying to save some money for college and you were merely a customer. He had accidentally knocked the - thankfully, cold - coffee all over you. In compensation, he begs for your order again so he could make it for free.

He still knows your coffee order by heart up until today.

Taking both of your orders, Seungmin moves to settle back to wherever you’re seated when he spots Jisung and Changbin sitting at your table as well.

He should’ve known they’d be here today – they practically lived on coffee. Seungmin supposes this is what double majoring in Music Management and with Music Theory and Composition looks like.

“Not you two again.” Seungmin fakes exasperation, standing by Jisung who’s seated next to you before shooing him away, claiming that Jisung was in his spot. Jisung simply smirks knowingly before shuffling towards the seat next to Changbin.

“So, I have a funny story.” When Changbin speaks up, Jisung is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth.

“We don’t have a funny story.” He counters Changbin’s claim pointedly, shaking his head and glaring at his best friend.

But who could open up a topic and not proceed around Seungmin? He’ll pull up every piece of blackmail he has on his phone, appropriately labeled “to use against friends” and start threatening you. Absolutely no one can escape Seungmin, and that’s how you find Changbin telling the story of how someone had kissed Jisung and when she pulled away, all he did was say “thank you”.

“Who says that after kissing someone?” Your laughter triggers a smile on Seungmin’s face, too busy observing you to make fun of Jisung. He’ll save that for later when you walk home together. For now, the sight of you laughing is too enchanting to look away from.

Jisung, on the other hand, ignores your question. He’s already embarrassed enough.

“I don’t know! I was nervous! My brain doesn’t work sometimes, you know?” Jisung’s running his hand through his hair in frustration, desperately trying to defend himself, hands moving inanimately while speaking.

“Your brain doesn’t work all the time.” Seungmin retorts and the boy pouts at his younger friend.

“Can we talk about something else?”

You, in fact, do not talk about anything else much to Jisung’s dismay. On your way back home, Changbin brings it up again after jokingly kissing Jisung’s cheek and saying “thank you” right after.

A heavy arm swings around your shoulder, Seungmin pulling you towards him as he lets his other friends be with their teasing. You look up at your best friend, shifting your attention back to the ground when you meet his gaze.

You’re walking slightly ahead of the two boys, and Seungmin’s just asking you how your day was. He always does this. Every time he walks you back to your building, he’d always ask how your day went.

This might have stemmed from your first and only huge argument – when you kept your feelings to yourself because you didn’t want to be a bother to him. Seungmin’s made sure to create a comfortable space for you to vent to him ever since.

When you talk, Seungmin listens attentively. You don’t know if you love or hate it. It’s a little difficult to recount what happened in your day when he’s looking at you like that. Seungmin may tease you a lot, but you know he cares a lot and one of his ways of showing that is by listening to you.

Your quiet conversation is cut short when the two boys catch up with you, Jisung’s eyes narrow at Seungmin while he walks backward so he’s in front of Seungmin. “How come you like touching (name) and not us?”

“Don’t say it like that, you sound like a perv.” Changbin smacks the back of his head and Jisung giggles when his choice of words dawn on him.

“Sorry. I mean, how come you’re not disgusted to initiate physical contact with her! What about me?”

(Because I like her, Seungmin thinks but doesn’t actually say).

Instead, Seungmin smirks, keeping his arm around you before teasing his older friend. “Aw, is our Jisung getting jealous? Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand once we drop (name) off.”

“Actually?” Jisung beams at what Seungmin says and he halts his steps, instead walking forward with his hand outstretched towards where Seungmin’s standing.

“No, fuck off! I was kidding!” You laugh when Seungmin detaches himself from you so he can properly run away from Jisung who’s desperate to hold the young boy’s hand.

It’s in moments like these, when the feeling of his arm around your shoulder still lingers, and Jisung’s words echo in your head (why does he only hold you?), and Changbin’s nudging your side knowingly, that makes you think.

Could you possibly mean something more to Seungmin? The way that he means to you?

three.

Apart from your notifications, Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your ears.

You hear him before you see him. Winter seems startled at the sudden screech of your name from the other side of the street, laughing quietly to herself when she spots Seungmin running at you in full speed. She pays no mind when Seungmin latches himself around you, waving at her after finding a comfortable spot to rest his chin (on top of your head).

“That felt like it came out of a movie.”

You’re still waiting for your food with Winter by the food truck. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Despite learning over the years that he was impatient and usually annoyed at anyone and everything that made him wait, he’s also come to realize that he doesn’t mind the wait when it comes to you. Why else would he wait for you despite your professor being well known for always going past his allotted time?

He couldn’t do that for anyone else.

“What are your plans after here?” Seungmin directs the question towards the both of you, slowly unhooking himself from around you to look at the menu of the food truck.

“Might go to the mall and buy some airpods.” Winter mumbles, pulling her bucket hat down in embarrassment as Seungmin stares at her in disbelief. “Wow. You said that as if you’re just buying a pencil or something.”

“No! What happened is that… I thought I left my airpods in my mom’s car. But look at this.” She pulls out her phone, showing the notification that said ‘French fries (the name of her airpods) is far from the user’. “So I think I must’ve left it on the plane when I was coming back here from the academic break.”

Winter’s pouting now at the thought of her upcoming big purchase. “I can’t survive without them. How am I supposed to tune everyone out?”

“Order for Winter.” The conversation is cut abruptly by the man at the food truck with your orders. You break out in a smile at the sight of the food, taking it from Winter and whispering a quick ‘thank you’.

“Spending money is so easy, but saving feels like a war.” Winter adds before she smells her food, mirroring the smile on your face and taking a bite out of the hard-shell taco she ordered. Seungmin looks around for a place to sit, spotting a bench not too far. “Come on, you girls need to sit.”

Ever the gentleman, Seungmin carries your drinks for you while you eat your food and walk to the bench he had spotted. Taking your seats, Winter pats your thigh and nods her head. “You got yourself a good one. I approve.”

You’re confused for a moment before you feel the heat creep up from your neck to your entire face. Thank God Seungmin didn’t hear Winter implying that she approved of him as your boyfriend. If he did, he pretended not to hear.

However, he isn’t blind and can see your impossibly red face in abruptness.

“Woah, do you need something to drink?” He grabs his water bottle from his bag, unscrewing the cap and nudging it to your general direction. You gratefully take it from him, chugging down his water to try and cool yourself down. Winter all but giggles, pretending she didn’t almost trigger you to choke down on your food.

The next few minutes are spent in silence with you and Winter savoring your food and Seungmin scrolling through his phone to check if he had any deadlines he missed. One of his hands rests naturally on your thigh, as if it was the most normal thing.

When Winter finishes her food, she abruptly gets up from her seat, facing the both of you. “I’m gonna get going now so I can buy the airpods and wallow in my dorm until I fall asleep.” Your face scrunches up in amusement, nodding your head and getting up from your seat to give her a quick hug. “Take care! Text me when you get home.”

“I hope you get me for Secret Santa this year!” Seungmin earns a soft punch from Winter at his side comment before she’s off to the mall. Seungmin’s quick to pull you back down on the bench when Winter leaves, scooting so there’s almost no space between the two of you.

“Do you have plans after here?” You hum, trying to think if you needed to be somewhere. Chewing down on your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Good. You’re eating dinner with me. And don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking. We’re just going to the cafeteria on campus. I’m not gonna rob you off of your allowance.” You laugh in approval, taking another bite down your taco before tilting your body so you’re facing Seungmin, offering some up to your best friend.

“You want some?” You find he’s staring somewhere else instead of the food you had pushed up to his face. Trying to follow his gaze, you tilt your head with wide, doe-eyes before looking back to see if there was something behind you. “What are you looking at?”

Seungmin clears his throat, snapping out of his daydream. “Nowhere. Just…” You’ve never seen Seungmin this hesitant before. He’s pulling at the sleeves of the green sweater he’s wearing, looking around before he fixes his gaze on you again.

Without warning, he sticks his thumb out to wipe something at the corner of your lips.

“You had some sauce on your lips.” He’s looking straight ahead now, avoiding your eyes, as if he didn’t just leave you dumbfounded. “Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” Only then do you realize your lips have parted a little at his sudden actions.

And then, just like Winter, he abruptly gets up. You don’t notice the redness at the tip of his ears when he leans down to pinch your cheeks. “Jeongin says he needs me. I’ll meet you for dinner, okay?”

You don’t tell him you know that Jeongin’s still in class right now.

four.

When you arrive, Kim Seungmin is already there, waving you over to where he’s seated.

It’s packed, as usual, filled with college kids that lived in the dorm areas around the campus. However, Seungmin still finds a seat for the both of you.

Slipping past numerous sleep-deprived college kids, you make your way to your best friend. He greets you with a quick side hug before he’s pushing the best selling mango shake of your cafeteria in your direction. “Oh my god, they weren’t sold out?”

Every student in your university knows that The Sunshine Harvest’s mango shake was the best drink ever made in mankind. It’s the stall with the longest line in your cafeteria which explains why it always sells out so fast. Everyone would rush to the cafeteria after their last class just to buy a cup – and it was budget friendly. You’ve long given up on buying one (after months) as your schedule never lined up to when there were still some left. You complained about it all the time to Seungmin.

“It wasn’t sold out when I got there. Probably is now.” He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant even though your smile is tipping him over the edge.

All you did was smile, and Seungmin’s forgotten everything he’s supposed to say or do. It was definitely worth waiting in line for 30 minutes, he concludes.

Happily sipping on your shake, you ask Seungmin if you should start lining up at the food stalls to get dinner. He simply nods his head, telling you to go ahead so he could look after your seats while you search for what you want to eat. Seungmin takes the small time he has alone to calm down.

Then, he receives a phone call from you.

“Do you want pizza?”

“Pizza’s fine.”

“Okay, I’ll buy us pizza.”

“When you finish ordering, just come here and give me the receipt, okay? I’ll wait for it.”

“Minnie, you’re quite literally the most impatient man on this planet. I can do it.”

“And you had a long day of classes today. Get your ass back here.”

Within minutes, you’re back at your seat and Seungmin’s sitting you down, taking the receipt from your hands. “Good girl.” He ruffles your hair, dropping his hand right after to squish your pouting cheeks before he’s off to wait for your pizza.

You drop your head on the table immediately after he leaves. Something in the way he said ‘good girl’ has your heart racing, and you can hear him tell you the table’s dirty but you cannot function at the moment so your face takes the consequence of Seungmin’s words.

Moments later, Seungmin returns with your pizza, setting it down on the table before taking his seat across from you. There’s still steam blowing from the pizza from how recent it was baked, and you hear your stomach grumble at the sight. You start to fiddle with your fingers, contemplating whether you should wait for it to cool down or grab a slice right now.

It looks so tempting to take a bite off.

“Don’t.” Before you can even proceed with your devious plan, you feel Seungmin flick your forehead as if he knows what you’re thinking. It’s because he does. Seungmin has memorized your body language. He knows you want to take a slice, and he also knows it’s still hot, and your tongue’s gonna burn, and you’re going to regret it. You slump back in your seat in defeat.

Seungmin considers himself a genius when it comes to the study of you. While was a stellar student in his school subjects, nothing will come close to the extent of knowledge he has on you. He’s learned about you for years, to the point he thinks he might know you better than he knows himself. He can read you like an open book – his open book. He knows that when the tip of your ears turn red, it means you’re angry. He knows you fiddle with your fingers when you’re bored. He knows you’re one of the few people who puts milk before the cereal (he’s sworn to keep that secret safe with him).

If Seungmin were to write his thesis paper about you, he was sure he’d get a perfect mark. He’s been unknowingly tucking little things he loved about you in his heart, which is why he waited those thirty damn minutes just to buy you that stupid mango shake that you loved so much.

He’s looking at you now, staring intensely at the pizza as if it'll cool down faster if you sent it a threatening glare. He smiles to himself, where you can’t see, and he thinks – “Wow, I really really like her.” And for a moment, he thinks he’s brave enough to say it out loud, but seconds turn into minutes and the moment passes. Instead, he chooses to roll up the wrapper from your straw and flick it at you to get your attention and tell you it’s okay to eat your pizza now.

And you smile, immediately going in to take a slice. You smile, and Seungmin thinks he never wants to go a day without seeing you smile. He forgives himself for not being able to tell you how he feels right now. He thinks he still has time. He still has so much time in the world to confess to you.

“It’s still hot. Careful, okay?” You take a bite and immediately wave a hand in front of your mouth from the heat. He laughs at your eagerness to finish the pizza despite its temperature and he reaches to grab his own slice.

Seungmin wishes he can spend all his dinners like this.

It isn’t long before Seungmin’s walking you home. Despite living in the dorms within campus, he still pushes to walk you back to your building that’s a little outside of the campus. “I’ll walk you home. Come on.”

On the way back, you spot the campus cats and dogs. You squeal at the sight of them, immediately crouching down and calling at them to come to where you and Seungmin are. The cats come mewling by your feet. Seungmin mirrors you and crouches down to pick one up in his arms, checking their collars and cooing audibly. “Hello, mushroom.”

“Oh, she’s so cute.” You stand back up to pet the little kitten in Seungmin’s arms. She reminds you of one of Minho’s cats. Minho would love her. And then, you gasp. You spot the cutest golden retriever puppy, scratching at his collar. Seungmin puts the kitten down to follow you towards where the puppy’s sitting.

“Hello there…” You take a quick glimpse at his collar. “Fang. What a cute name.” You speak in a soft voice, lifting him up gently in your arms. Fang seems to immediately melt in your touch the moment you pick him up and give him some head rubs.

Mushroom’s meowing in jealousy when Seungmin gives his attention elsewhere.

“Want me to rub your back? Or give you some belly rubs?” You smile sweetly, moving your hard towards his back and moving your fingers along his fur. “Minnie. Do you ever think about how easy it is to steal them?”

He laughs at your proposition, giving it a thought. “Maybe sometimes. I’m already a criminal in your building. Might as well be a criminal on campus too.” Seungmin joins you to rub behind Fang’s ears, a smile creeping up on his face.

“It’s getting late. We’re gonna have to go.” Seungmin says gently and you pout as you put the boy down. “I wish I could put you in my bag and take you home. You’re such a good boy.” You bid your goodbye to the puppy before letting him down.

“That just made my entire day.” You say to no one in particular as you wave one last time to the cats and dogs who go back to playing amongst themselves.

On the rest of the way back, Seungmin complains about Minho and his Criminal Law professor, and you talk about the long list of long tests and quizzes you have lined up for next week. Conversation with Seungmin always comes so easy. And when he sees your building, he makes it a point to slow down his pace so you can finish your story about the time Ryujin put red dye in Chaeryeong’s shampoo bottle. And he listens.

With you, it’s easy to forget time.

You finish your story just in time. Seungmin won’t tell you he tried to time it perfectly so you wouldn’t be interrupted while you happily shared the story.

“Goodnight idiot. Don’t pull another all nighter.” As usual, Seungmin’s fingers find their way to pinch your cheeks before pushing you towards the glass doors of your building. You laugh when you notice Seungmin’s eyes brighten at the sight of Derek, and he immediately sends a wave to his favorite security guard which Derek happily returns.

“Goodnight. Walk home safely!”

On the way back to his dorms, Seungmin’s phone buzzes from the pocket of his jeans. It's a notification from Jeongin.

(Instagram): maknaeontop mentioned you in a comment: @_seungmin isnt this u with yn LOL

The post reads: “I’ll walk with you” is just an excuse to spend more time with someone before they go and that’s romantic as fuck.

Seungmin rolls his eyes and locks his phone before shoving it in the pockets of his jeans. How convenient is Jeongin’s timing to tag him in that post after he just walked you home.

five.

Kim Seungmin also enjoys complaining a lot. Despite being the one to offer his help, he’s holding up quite an attitude while he’s carrying your laundry to the laundry shop.

You were simply just texting each other, and you happened to tell him you were going to be doing your laundry today, and how you were dreading the long walk while carrying your shit ton of dirty clothes. That’s how you find Kim Seungmin waiting for you outside your building, taking his sweet time glaring at Karen.

“Seungmin in the building!” His arms are open when he greets you and you fall into them in an instant. Seungmin rarely offers to hug you first so you take the moment to wrap your arms around him and stay in his embrace. Although, his enthusiasm doesn’t hold though when he’s carrying two bags of laundry on each of his shoulders and you’re walking to the laundry shop together.

“You seriously didn’t have to do this.”

“You would’ve suffered from extreme shoulder and back pains, and I would’ve had to hear about it for the rest of the day. I’m doing myself a favor.”

You roll your eyes and the conversation falls silent. A comfortable silence.

You take the moment to look Seungmin over. He’s just wearing a white shirt and some sweatpants, and yet he looks like the most beautiful person on the planet. That’s Seungmin for you. He could wear anything and make it work.

Fuck, he’s an alarm clock, and you’re so dazed by the way his hair looks like fluffy auburn under the sun, and how the outline of his chest is easy to see through his white shirt, and how his muscles are flexing from the weight of the bags he’s carrying. Since when did he start going to the gym? Was he always this tall?

He looks painfully dashing and you’re unaware that you’ve made it to the laundry shop until Seungmin’s snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Huh, wait. Sorry.” You flush in embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.

“Lost you for a second there.”

You immediately get to work. You’ve already separated your clothes prior to coming here, so you begin to pour two caps of laundry detergent into the washer. Seungmin mirrors your actions so you can finish your laundry earlier. Pile by pile, you start adding your clothes to the washer and push the knob to turn it to normal cycle setting.

While waiting, you and Seungmin simply sit on the floor and lean against the wall, staring at the washer with your head resting on his shoulder and your legs outstretched on the ground.

You wonder when you should do your groceries. Maybe on Tuesday after your 1pm long test? You don’t think you have anything else to do on that day. Has Seungmin finished doing his groceries or would he want to come with you? You think he has a full day of classes on Tuesday.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Huh, what?” You pull your head away from his shoulder, and Seungmin regrets asking what’s on your mind. It’s too late to double down though.

“You were chewing on your lips. Assumed you were deep in thought.” You don’t know how chewing your lips has anything to do with being deep in thought. Have you always chewed down on your lips when you were thinking of something? Seungmin curses himself for letting that slip out so easily.

“Just thinking about when I should do my groceries.” Seungmin quickly dismisses the topic in fear of his feelings being caught. It doesn’t seem like you want to talk much about groceries either. So, you fall back in your comfortable silence and your head is back on his shoulder and a smile instantly crawls its way to Seungmin’s lips while he leans his head on yours.

“Why does it seem like it’s taking longer than usual?” You whine, staring at the washer with your eyes squinted a little. You look at the clock to see how much time has passed by and then back at the washer as if it’d speed up if you did. “Yeah, I’m tired of hanging out with you.”

Seungmin’s head falls when you pull your own head back to stick your tongue out at him. He just chuckles at you, linking his arm around you so he can pull you back. “Come back. I was comfortable.” He wraps an arm around you so he can push your head back on his shoulder and your heart skips a beat when he nuzzles his head against yours once again.

“Shouldn’t have said you were tired of hanging out with me then.” You mumble, afraid that your voice would quiver if you spoke any louder. Seungmin simply dismisses you with a wave of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”

Time always moves faster when you’re actually enjoying the moment because a few minutes pass and the washer stops, and now you have to take your clothes out and place them in the dryer.

Seungmin stays, telling you he’d help with folding up your clothes and bringing them back to your building – which is exactly what he does when the dryer finishes. And somehow, folding your clothes has turned into a competition between the two of you when he’s claiming he can fold much more than you can.

He wins.

“It’s just because you have big hands!”

“Your argument makes no sense.”

“It does so! See, see. Look.”

You lift your hand mid-air, explaining to him why more work can be done with less effort if you have big hands compared to having smaller hands. It’s like walking less steps when you have longer legs. You’re not sure you’re making sense yourself, and you’re definitely not sure how to function when Seungmin reaches to meet his hand with yours.

His hands are big.

“You do have tiny baby hands. Are your hands smaller than Felix’s?” The moment feels way too intimate for you. While you’re just comparing hand sizes, it's the warmth of his hands that catch you off guard and the feeling that you wouldn’t mind feeling his hand like this every day.

Seungmin thinks about how easy it’d be to just intertwine your hands together.

“Uh… I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” You instantly pull your hand back, packing your folded clothes back in your bags. You don’t know why your face won’t stop smiling at what just happened so you bury your head deep into the bags so Seungmin can’t see how red your cheeks are.

“They’re definitely smaller. You don’t have to check.”

Seungmin doesn’t admit either that he doesn’t want you to press your hand against Felix’s like you did with his.

six.

Even when you’re not together physically, he still finds a way to annoy you.

“That’s what phones are made of!” He explains over the phone while you’re grocery shopping. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind that his only view in your Facetime call is your double chin and the piles of food behind you.

“What are you doing grocery shopping on a Sunday anyway? Isn’t this your sleeping day?” He says as if it was a matter-of-fact. “There are no rules stating I can’t grocery shop on a Sunday.” You deadpan before grabbing a bottle of shampoo from the shelves.

The old lady looks at you like you’re crazy and you blush in embarrassment, pulling your cart away and moving to another section of the shop. It must look like you’re talking to yourself.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you?” Seungmin shifts from his position so he’s sitting up and he can hear you better which catches your attention. “So maybe I am a little.” You grab some toilet paper before you start to walk to the frozen section.

“You know you can talk to me, right? I’m always here to carry the weight with you.” You smile at the rare words of affirmation from your best friend. It was never his love language. He showed his affection through his acts of service, so you appreciate that he’s lowering down his teasing to genuinely comfort you while you’re stressed.

“I know. It’s just…” So you talk to him.

You rant to your best friend while you’re walking around the grocery store, and while numerous other old ladies and men look at you like you need to seek psychiatric help. You tell him about your blockmates and how they rarely put in work during group projects and activities. Seungmin knows it’s bothering you more than ever now since exams are nearing. That meant so were a shit ton of project deadlines.

“Need me to talk to them?” You laugh, dismissing him while you examine the ice cream flavors available. “That’s just embarrassing for me. Though, I’ll admit they’d be scared shitless if The Kim Seungmin scolded them.” You lean down to pick up the Rocky Road tub for yourself and a Mint Choco for Seungmin.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m all that. I’m just… Minnie.” Your heart warms at how he uses your nickname for him. “And I’m serious. I won’t hesitate talking to them if you need someone to knock some sense into them.” Your best friend scoffs at the thought of your group mates and the unnecessary amount of stress they’re putting you in.

“It’s alright. I’ll handle them. Do you need anything?” Your grocery list has long been crashed out and discarded in your pocket, now just looking around to see if there was anything else you could fit in your budget.

“Do you think you can get me some eggs?” You hum, moving towards where the dairy products are. “Just one carton?” You ask, skimming through them before grabbing a dozen upon Seungmin’s approval.

When he tells you he doesn’t need anything else, you move to fall in line so you can pay for your groceries. Only then do you realize that Seungmin’s wearing the fuzzy socks you got for him a few Christmases back.

“I thought you threw those out.”

“Hm?” Seungmin asks you to clarify.

“The socks I gave you as a gift.”

“I would never! They’re my happy socks. Also, wasn’t this the Christmas when you received that Ghibli inspired night light?”

“Yeah! How’d you remember?”

“You were really happy to get it. You would not stop talking about it.” He smiles his Seungmin smile while recalling the memory. You had quite literally screamed when you opened it and Seungmin almost fell out of his ass thinking that you got hurt or injured.

“Best. Gift. Ever.” You stressed every word, looking ahead to see you’re next in line. “I’m taking that as a challenge.”

“Alright. I have to pay. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Text me…”

“I’ll text you when I get home, I know, I know. Bye!” You hang up the call just in time for the person before you to finish and you start loading your items on the counter. When you exit the shop, you spot Felix with his own bag of groceries as well.

He greets you enthusiastically the moment he spots you, going in to give you a short hug and a small pat on your head. He’s smiling his sunshine smile as the two of you walk through the large shop together, and he’s kind enough to offer to carry one of your shopping bags for you as you exit. You decide to just take the train back to campus together as he lives in one of the in-campus dorms as well.

“Soooo… you and Seungmin together yet?” Felix stabs the silence with a knife, immediately going in for the kill. You scrunch your face, shaking your head as you look at him with your eyes squinted. “Felix.”

“No, but like! He’s always so happy when he’s with you. And even when you’re not around, he goes on and on about you. I’m pretty sure Changbin knew everything about you before he even met you.”

“Don’t give me false hope.” You nibble on your lip, looking down at your groceries as Felix navigates the both of you towards the train station.

Felix pauses, a small hand on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd of people waiting to catch the train. “It’s not false hope!” Felix is trying to find a way to properly articulate his thoughts to you. He’s not dumb – he sees the way Seungmin looks at you. Seungmin doesn’t need to tell him.

“Okay, listen to this. So, one time I went to their dorm, right? Cause I was stress-baking and I made too many brownies and I know how much Innie loves them so I went there. It was a little late in the night, and when I walked in about to announce my presence, Seungmin saw me.”

You look at him confused, but let him continue the story.

“Turns out, you had fallen asleep on him while the three of you were watching a movie, and there was this look on his face. I can’t even begin to explain, but he had this look, and he told me to be quiet so I don’t wake you up.”

You just scoff at his story.

“Fine, don’t believe me. One day, I’m gonna say I told you so.” He teases, and a faint smile forms on your face. “Let’s hope I get to hear that.” You feel your heart pumping at the thought. Felix seems really sincere with his words, but you didn’t want to hang onto something you don’t see yourself.

It’s quiet after that when you enter the train. It’s a little packed so there isn’t a seat for you and Felix, but he protectively stands beside you and ghosts an arm around you so you don’t fall when the train accelerates. Felix walks you all the way to your building before he hands you back your grocery bag.

“Bye Felix! Be safe.”

“Bye (name). Go and kiss Seungmin for me!”

“I hate you.”

He waves to you as he leaves and now the thought of kissing Seungmin is stuck in your head. Screw Lee Felix and his endless teasing.

seven.

You don’t see Seungmin until Thursday that week. You’ve been stressed. Really stressed. And Seungmin’s well aware.

He lets you rant to him at night, playing the part of your diary. He lets you be angry, he lets you be annoyed – without shame. He lets you feel every emotion and reminds you you’re valid for feeling that way.

You’re always thankful for Seungmin. You’re appreciative of the way he drops whatever he’s doing at any hint that you’re stressed just so he can listen. He doesn’t say anything while you rant, letting the moment be entirely yours. He simply plays his part as someone who’s there to hold the moment with you because he’s lucky enough to be the one to hear it.

So, on a Thursday, you text him asking if it was okay for you to drop by the dorms. He says yes in an instant, but tells you to come in 2 hours. He must’ve been busy.

But now, two hours later, you’re standing outside his dorm building with the carton of eggs you bought him and some jjajangmyeon. Jeongin, Seungmin’s roommate, is the one who greets you.

“(Name)!”

“Jeongin!”

He rushes to hug you, wrapping his long arms around you and lifting you from the ground just a little before placing you down safely. “How long has it been since you visited us? I’m a little hurt.” He accompanies you to leave your student ID with the guard, holding up the conversation and offering to bring the plastic bag you’re holding.

Jeongin announces your arrival by knocking on the door. How unusual for someone who also lives in that same dorm he’s knocking. Maybe he didn’t bring the keys with him?

There’s a sound of vague stumbling and cursing and rushing around before the door swings open to reveal a sweating Seungmin. “Hey. Long time no see.” He lets out a breath, one you think he’s been holding before he steps aside to let the both of you in. He smiles at you before his eyes land on the plastic Jeongin’s holding.

“My eggs! Thank you.” Seungmin pinches your cheeks in thanks before grabbing the bag from Jeongin who’s still chuckling over Seungmin’s very excited exclamation of his eggs. “And some jjajangmyeon, too? (Name), you sure know your way around my heart.”

“You’re welcome.” You sit yourself on their couch, noticing that the place has been tidied up a little. You laugh at the boys’ effort to clean up before you came over.

“You feeling better?” Seungmin plops down at the spot next to you, fixing his gaze on you.

“A little.” (Way better now that I’m here with you–).

“Good. Being stressed ages you faster. You’re already like half fifty or something.”

(--so I can strangle you.)

Jeongin nudges Seungmin suddenly, clearing his throat. You look at the younger boy suspiciously and suddenly Seungmin’s sweating again despite not doing anything. “I have a surprise.”

“You… have a surprise?” You tilt your head in confusion. Seungmin tells you to wait one moment as he waddles towards the door of their bathroom. What surprise could possibly be linked to their bathroom. “Seungmin. I swear to god if you show me one of your shit–”

Then, he opens the door and out comes running… Fang?

“Did you kidnap the campus dog?!” You shoot out of your seat, mouth dropping at the sight of the dog who’s excitedly jumping and demanding for your attention. “I was kidding when I talked about kidnapping them!”

“You said they’d cheer you up no matter what!” Your initial shock dissipates when Fang looks so cute barking and jumping at you, so you sit back down and he immediately hops on their couch to lay down on your lap.

“I helped too.” Jeongin states proudly, sitting on your left so you’re in between him and Seungmin who has taken the spot on your right. “You made the baby help you steal?” Seungmin rolls his eyes, rubbing Fang’s head. “He was more than happy to do it.”

Only then do you allow your heart to explode in your chest. Seungmin actually kidnapped the campus dog to surprise you because you’d been stressed for the week. Your emotions feel heightened, and you feel an overwhelming wave of love wash over you at its purest, unsolicited form.

He did this for you just because. He did it without expecting anything in return. He did it because you briefly mentioned how they made your day when you saw them that one time you ate dinner together.

You can’t do anything but stare at him for a moment, unable to really pay attention to Fang, not that he really needs it. Jeongin’s giving him enough attention by playing around with him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded at the heavy implication of care in his actions. Here he was next to you, holding with him all your feelings you’ve had for years.

“Thank you, Minnie.” You lean in to give him a small kiss on his cheek before you’re getting up to play with Fang and Jeongin. His pretty brown eyes go wide. There’s a deep inhalation while he sits there after you’d kissed his cheek. He’s taken by surprise, almost frozen in his spot.

He’d kidnap all the campus dogs and cats just to feel your lips on his cheek again.

He’s snapped out of his daze by the sound of knocking and almost immediately Jeongin’s rushing Fang back into their bathroom to hide him and their filthy crimes. They were going to return him. They were simply… borrowing.

Seungmin answers the door once Jeongin safely hides the cute puppy.

It’s Lee Minho.

“It’s just Minho!” Minho invites himself inside, waving at you once he spots you. “Why are you here?”

“I invited him so he could cook dinner for us. My wallet’s bleeding and I’m craving a home cooked meal.” Jeongin responds, opening the bathroom door to let Fang out again who instantly warms up to Minho. There’s obvious relief in his voice at not being caught. He was an accessory to the crime after all.

“Only if I get a hug from Seungminie.” Minho’s smirking, inching closer and closer to Seungmin who puts his arms out in front of him to block himself from the boy. “Move! You’re dirty! And don’t call me that.”

Minho all but laughs at Seungmin’s response, already having predicted it. He ignores Seungmin’s passiveness when it comes to affection, choosing instead to pet the puppy by his feet. “I’m not even gonna ask why you stole the campus dog.”

“We’re just borrowing him!”

“Can you steal Mushroom for me too?” Minho pats your head affectionately when he passes by you to make his way to the kitchen, looking through the pots and pans and ingredients to figure out what he’s going to be cooking tonight.

“Depends how much you’re willing to pay me.” Seungmin grins evilly, and Minho all but shakes his head at the younger boy.

It goes on like this for a while. You help Minho out sometimes at the kitchen because Seungmin and Jeongin cannot for the life of them cook without causing a fire, and then Minho pushes you to go back and play with Fang since Seungmin went through all the trouble kidnapping him for you (Jeongin couldn’t keep the secret and told Minho right away why they decided to steal the puppy).

You feel genuine happiness when you’re around them. The feeling remains even when you’ve sat down to eat.

Jeongin and Minho also can’t help but notice the happiness radiating off of Seungmin who’s staring at you and your smile when he thinks no one is looking.

eight.

Kim Seungmin’s friends are basically an extension of yours, like how your friends are an extension of his.

While some are closer with others, you don’t mind each other’s presence. Seungmin’s friend group is way bigger than yours – 8 boys including himself. As for you, you liked sticking with Winter, Chaeryeong, and Ryujin.

Hanging out in the big field of your school was supposed to be only amongst you and the 3 girls, but when the boys caught wind of your plans, they asked if they could tag along.

That’s how you find yourselves sitting on the field’s grass and chatting while some play a variation of volleyball by the side.

Everyone’s doing their own little thing, happy to just spend the afternoon with friends after a long week of classes. Ryujin’s bullying Chan, untying his shoelaces every chance she gets. Chaeryeong and Minho are discussing amongst themselves about their dance showcase coming up since they were both majoring in the same course (with Changbin constantly trying to bother them both – you wish Chaeryeong would punch him again so you could catch it on video this time). Hyunjin’s asking for Winter’s advice since he’s been tinkering with the idea of taking up Fashion Design. The rest of the boys are playing around with the exception of Seungmin who’s laying down on the picnic blanket you’d laid out.

“You mentioned you had a quiz today, right? How was that?” You look down at Seungmin even though he has an arm draped over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“I think I did alright. Bolted out of there as soon as they started discussing their answers.”

The boy simply laughs, tuning out everyone else in favor of listening to your voice. It doesn’t last long though when Jisung is bothering everyone to play volleyball together. He claims it’s perfect since you were 12 total so exactly 6 people would be on each time like an actual game.

Feeling nice today, you decided to join in on his idea. Jisung is thankful for the support. It’s always his ideas that are turned down – though he’s to blame most of the time. Who thinks swimming in an ice cold lake is a good idea to hangout?

It’s only now that he thinks of something that’s normal to do so everyone gives him a chance.

So, you play. You, Ryujin, Chan, Felix, Minho and Hyunjin in one team and Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Winter, and Jisung in another.

Your team wins both rounds. Seungmin’s just complaining about Changbin’s good at nothing while you switch courts to play a third round (even though your team’s already won). “That’s embarrassing.” Minho jests at the opposite team, laughing when Jisung pouts instantly.

“We’re just going to win again. Do you really wanna play another round?” Ryujin joins in on the teasing, finally creating a temporary truce with Chan as they were on the same team.

“Mean!” Chaeryeong remarks before slumping her shoulders. “She’s right though. They’re definitely gonna win again.”

“I hate all of you” are Seungmin’s last words before you play another round. The game goes by really quickly until Jisung accidentally spikes the ball in your direction and he’s immediately down on his knees apologizing to you.

Everyone’s eyes instantly land on Seungmin who’s already making his way to where you’re seated on the ground.

“I’m okay. It’s okay Ji!” Despite your verbal reassurance to everyone, he still places a fond hand on your head before he holds your chin, gently tilting your head on both sides to see if you were hit in the face.

Jisung’s now apologizing to both you and Seungmin.

Chan jumps on the opportunity to start taunting Jisung and how Seungmin was gonna be mad at him and Jisung’s sad attempts at getting the boy to hug him will all be in vain. “Chan, you’re my roommate. I thought you were supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m sorry, the roommate contract doesn’t cover taking your side.”

Seungmin doesn’t let the game continue after that, but nobody really minds, happy to finally take a break from playing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Doting Seungmin is adorable as he’s wiping the sweat from your forehead, asking you a million times if you were hurt. He tells you it’s because he can’t pay in case you've broken a bone or something. You know better than that.

He was just being his ‘tsundere’ self.

“Yo, you guys ready for the midterms exams soon?” Chan opens up and a loud groan immediately leaves Ryujin’s lips in response. “Don’t even remind me.”

“I’m honestly just excited for the university festival right after.” Felix quips, hugging his knees to his chest. Winter and Hyunjin instantly agree, talking about wanting to help out with the booths.

“I wonder which artists are gonna perform. There’s no lineup yet, right?” Changbin asks, and everyone responds with a variation of ‘no’ or ‘I don’t know’ along with a list of some artists they wished would make an appearance.

“Ya, lovebirds!” Minho calls out to the both of you which catches your attention. “You’re going to the university festival after exams, right?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of the festival and you eagerly nod, completely disregarding how Minho called you lovebirds. Seungmin takes note of your excitement, smiling goofily to himself before replacing it with a straight face upon facing his friends. He knows they’ll never let him live it down if they caught him with that smile on his face.

Seungmin just watches as you start talking about which booths you wished to see and which artists you were hoping to perform, and how you were wondering if there was going to be a fireworks display at night.

Your grin is so wide and fond and excited that Seungmin can’t help but let his own smile unknowingly linger. Minho has a shit-eating grin on his face at the sight.

nine.

Hell week – the week before midterm exams – comes really quick, and soon you find yourself living through Seungmin’s coffee machine and 5 hours of sleep.

The campus library becomes your second home as does a lot of people from numerous departments, studying until ungodly hours and sneaking in cups of hot coffee. So, after eating dinner, you walk the familiar steps towards the library with your best friend.

Seungmin also seems to be running low on sleep, eyes drooping before you even made it to the library. However, ever the top student that he is, he fights through the exhaustion. He’s thankful for the distraction.

Ever since you mentioned your excitement for the university festival and the fireworks display, Seungmin’s mind has been eating at him to use it as the perfect opportunity to confess to you. It’s the only thing that replays in his mind when he isn’t doing anything — all the possible outcomes to a confession and all the possible ways to confess.

So, he’s more than grateful for the distraction.

Not so much the one in front of him right now though. You’ve been at the library for around an hour now, books and papers scattered around the table. Seungmin’s tapping his pen against his lips, elbow propped up on the wood of the table. Criminal law has long been discarded in his head, he’s read it way too many times for the past week in preparation for the exams.

“Stop looking. You’re distracting me.” You whisper for Seungmin to pay attention, not even bothering to look up from your own book as you shut your eyes closed to try the photographic memory you clearly don’t have before flipping to the next page.

“How narcissistic of you to think I’m staring at you.” He rolls his eyes just to be annoying before his cheek falls against his fist, eyes glazing over you again. He has little shame in his unabashed staring.

It’s how he notices your gentle shivering at the airconditioning of the library. “Did you forget to bring a jacket?”

You don’t hear him, and you don’t really have to as he’s already taking his hoodie off, dropping it on top of your book to grab your attention. “You’re shaking.” When you’re about to retort, saying he’d get cold too — he goes back to studying, placing his earphones in even though he isn’t listening to any music.

You notice it’s your favorite hoodie of his, the Dodgers gray hoodie, once you put it on. Almost immediately you’re engulfed in his warmth and his scent and you’re grateful for the jacket because your ass has been shaking for the last hour.

Seungmin’s attempt to get back to studying falls short when he catches a glimpse of you in his jacket that’s clearly too big for you.

His thoughts drift to the color of your eyes and the way your hair frames your face so prettily and how you look so cute with the sleeves of his jacket falling beyond where your hands are. He thinks about how it’d feel like if he went in for the first kiss, pressing his lips on yours without it being nerve-wracking.

He imagines everything and anything in that short amount of time, his notes discarded in favor of admiring you.

Seungmin is interrupted when you drop a copy of his perfectly written notes (from a class he took a year ago), asking him about a specific topic since you’re taking the class this year. He readjusts himself on the library seats, the ones he hates but puts up because you enjoy studying in the library so much.

Leaning in forward, Seungmin starts explaining to you the concepts of Politics and Governance and Health Laws. He glances at you with a frown when you seem to be staring at his notes blankly, having a hard time grasping all the information at once.

“You look like you’re fighting for your life in there.”

“That’s cause I am! How am I supposed to pass this class? Can it just be over so we can be at the university fest already?” Seungmin leans across the table to flick your forehead gently.

“You’re more concerned about the university fest than passing your exams.”

“Okay, mean.” You say to him with a frown, looking around to see if anyone’s looking before flashing him a middle finger. He rolls his eyes, pushing your notes further towards you before speaking again. “I’m not wrong though.”

He pokes you with a pen to get your attention, telling you to focus up before he’s explaining the concepts to you again. You try better to understand them now, repeating some of the things he tells you and answering his follow-up questions to make sure you really understand.

The soft smile he gives you when you answer correctly is enough motivation to perfect your exam. He looks like such a boyfriend right now. Lending you his hoodie, tutoring you on your exams, leaning in and smiling that soft smile directed at you. It takes everything in your head not to daydream of what it’d be like if he was actually yours.

You have to remind yourself he isn’t yours. He’s just your best friend. Your stupid boyfriend material best friend.

Similarly, Seungmin’s telling himself to get it together. He needs to stay focused on the upcoming exams and stop thinking about what it’d feel like to be yours.

ten.

It goes like this for a few more days until midterms week rolls through. And even then, you’d hold yourself in the library after an exam to study for the next.

Sometimes you’d be joined by Winter, and sometimes Jisung and Changbin would tag along which usually resulted in you trying to muffle your laughter underneath sweater sleeves. Who knew you could sneak in 12 cups of coffee in the library before actually getting caught?

Ever since then, Jisung’s been banned from your study sessions with Seungmin.

Tomorrow’s the last day of your exams, and you’re at Seungmin and Jeongin’s dorm to eat dinner before you head out to the library for the last time.

Seungmin’s out to buy dinner so you’re left with Jeongin who keeps trying to pry into yours and Seungmin’s non-existent relationship. “But you’ve definitely made out before, right?” Your face grows redder and redder every second that Jeongin speaks and you hit him with their couch throw pillow to rebut.

“We have not!”

“You’re right. Seungmin would’ve never shut up about it. But like, why not? Just get it over with and kiss!”

“We’re just best friends.”

“That’s what they all say.” Jeongin turns his full attention at you, smirking to himself before he starts making kissing noises. “Oh Minnie, kiss me already!” He purposely changes the pitch of his voice to try and imitate yours and you pretend not to feel the warmth on your cheeks.

“I’m gonna end up killing you before Seungmin does.”

He acts as if he doesn’t hear your comment (threat) and continues to tease you. “Seungminie, please fu—“

“Oh my god, shut up!” You almost jump at the poor boy upon realizing what he’s about to say next, and Seungmin arrives just in time before you can strangle the life out of his roommate.

“Am I interrupting something?” He glances at the two of you with an eyebrow raised, placing down the takeout containers on the table and motioning for you to sit so you can eat already.

“I think you might’ve just saved my life.” You send another glare at Jeongin and he raises his hands in surrender.

Seungmin just chuckles at this, coming up to sit beside you before he’s distributing the containers to the three of you. “What did you even do that made her jump you?”

“Everything he does makes me want to jump him.” You bark, squinting your eyes at the boy seated across from you and Seungmin.

“Woah, woah. (Name), I don’t see you like that. So eager to jump me?” You scoff loudly at his response, flicking a plastic spoon in his direction.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! We both know who you really want to jump.”

The plastic fork follows with the threat that if he doesn’t shut up, the hot soup from your noodles is gonna be next.

“Alright, both of you calm down and eat.” Almost instantly, Jeongin’s hunching over his chair, terrible posture leaned forward to start twisting the noodles around his chopsticks. Seungmin angles himself close to you so that your shoulders are brushing, leaning down and blowing on his food before he starts to eat as well.

You try and fail to hide a smile at the physical contact.

On your way to the library, you exchange reviewers to ask each other questions. It’s a good way to retain your memory on the concepts. Jeongin doesn’t seem to know any of the answers to his questions, and Seungmin makes that face exclusive to when he senses something horrible is going to happen — in this case, Jeongin’s grade on this subject.

“Don’t worry. God’s gonna give me a miracle tomorrow.”

“Did he tell you that?” You nudge Seungmin’s shoulder, laughing at their banter when Jeongin sticks his tongue out at your best friend.

“Of course you’re gonna pass your exams tomorrow. Pre-law students are nerds. You fit right in.” Jeongin snorts which earns him a smack from his roommate. “Do you wanna get kicked out of the dorms?”

The rest of the night falls smoothly with the three of you minding your own business (Jeongin instantly gets distracted by his phone). It’s only before midnight that you find Seungmin asleep in front of you, head resting on the wooden table of the library and eyes closed peacefully.

You glance at him and you almost feel bad you have to wake him up. Your heart flutters at the small smile gracing his lips, snapping a quick photo so you can go back to this moment forever.

You brush his skin gently, and a smile appears on his face. It’s soft, reserved, but it feels like everything to you. Something in the way he smiled at your touch has you feeling something you can’t quite identify. It makes your heart hurt in s good way.

“Minnie, wake up.” Your voice breaks him out of his nap. He glances up, sleep still evident in his eyes. Then, his dreamy smile returns.

“Sorry.” You apologize to the boy while he moves to tidy up his things. He must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for you to finish studying.

“Don’t apologize.” There’s that sincere, intense look in his eyes that makes sure to meet your gaze, so you know he’s being serious, yet his words are gently spoken. He doesn’t want you to feel bad. It was his choice to wait for you.

“Go straight to sleep when you get back, okay? I know you love pulling allnighters, but it’s not good for you.”

On normal circumstances, he’d protest, telling you that he was still able to get a good 4 hours of sleep, but the genuine concern swimming in your eyes has him sealing his mouth shut and nodding instead.

“Alright.”

Seungmin finds he’d do anything for you.

eleven.

After you finish your last test, you get a text from Seungmin telling you to come to JYP Diner.

He explains that the boys wanted to eat together after completing the midterm exams, and that you should try inviting Ryujin and Winter as well (Chaeryeong was already there as she shared her last exam schedule with Minho).

You reply that Winter had retired for the day, and that Ryujin still had an exam later this afternoon. He tells you to hurry up and get your ass to the diner.

As soon as you open the door, Seungmin’s eyes land on you and the annoyed look on his face melts into a fond smile. He’s quick to get up, greeting you by the door before wrapping his arm around your shoulder to draw you to where they were seated.

The inside of the diner is warm and pleasant. You’re thankful for the differing scenery of the calm diner compared to the stress of your university.

The boys and Chaeryeong wave at you when you make it to the table, and you fall on the empty seat right next to your best friend.

“Oh, (name). You should’ve heard him when you were still on your way here.” Minho quips, grin growing when Seungmin kicks him from under the table.

“Why’s (name) taking so long?”

“Has (name) texted you guys?”

The rest of the boys join in, overexaggerating their imitation of Seungmin’s words from earlier. Barely concealed laughters echo around your booth when your best friend shoots them a friendly show of his middle finger before he shushes them, asking you what you wanted to eat as everyone else had already ordered.

“Hey, where’s Felix?” You only now notice the boy’s absence, and Hyunjin snorts in response.

“Immediately fell asleep after his Advanced Calculus exam. He was actually in tears while studying for it last night.”

“Just like Jeongin then.” Seungmin earns a rather harsh nudge from Jeongin. “That was supposed to be a secret!”

There’s a gentle smile eating at your lips once your food arrives and your sleep-deprived friends start gobbling up the food as if they were sentenced to life and this was their last meal. There’s always that unidentifiable feeling of comfort when you’re with them, and you’re grateful to have found such friends.

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asks you quietly, noticing that you haven't started eating yet. Humming, you shake your head with the same small smile on your face.

“It’s nothing.”

Your after-exam celebration is continued over teasing and conversations about the university festival, and one by one, everyone starts excusing themselves to go back home. As usual, Seungmin walks you home.

He doesn’t let you walk into your building immediately upon arrival, asking you to wait for a moment. You comply, tilting your head with an amused smile on your face.

He’s rummaging through his bag now, looking for something before he pulls out two… tickets? He shoves one in your direction and it takes you a while to realize it’s a ticket to the university festival concert. They weren’t even selling yet, and when they did, it sold out pretty fast.

“How did you…?”

“Chan’s part of the student organizers.”

You immediately jump to coddle the boy in your arms, squeezing his rather larger body and pressing your cheek on his chest as you repeatedly say ‘thank you’. Your eyes are squeezed shut from beaming too much and your smile’s a little crooked from how genuine it comes out.

Seungmin can’t properly tell you that it’s no problem. He finds his words jumbled up because the sight he’s subjected to is so… beautiful. He’s blushing and somehow it’s making you blush too.

There’s something tucked beneath your smile, a certain kind of shyness in the way your eyes crinkle. It’s beautiful, as it always has been, but there was something about it that had Seungmin staring at your lips and back at your eyes. It’s like he’s being pulled in, and he’s unaware that he’s slowly and slowly minimizing the gap between you.

Just when he’s about to bite the bullet, an unknown voice startles him.

“Is that the little menace?”

Fucking hell.

Karen’s marching her way down the steps to where Seungmin’s standing, and you know it’s time he goes before Karen catches up to the boy.

“I guess I’ll see you later.” You laugh, but there’s that hint of shyness again, of being flustered as you wave at him. And then, you turn around to head inside your building.

Seungmin bolts back to his dorms, and he spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about what could’ve happened if goddamn Crazy Karen would’ve just kept her mouth shut.

twelve.

The university festival comes really fast, and you’re more than excited to spend it with your friends.

“Give me one second.” Chaeryeong’s gathering products from her desk and makeup bag, gathering them up on the floor and telling you to sit still as she rummages through her multiple tubes and brushes.

She maneuvers your head so you’re facing her before she slathers something on her palms, transferring the product to your face and rubbing it gently on your skin. A thin layer of concealer follows before she’s brushing powder on your face.

Earlier, you had asked if she could do your makeup for you and she excitedly replied with a ‘yes’ and a ‘come over right away’.

It’s how you find multiple brushes being dabbed on your face, hues of pink on your cheeks and a little on your nose before she’s patting a few glitters on the lids of your eyes. She lets you put on the mascara yourself so she doesn’t accidentally poke you with the wand (like she did the last time she did your makeup).

Then she’s on the search for the perfect shade of lipstick. “Let’s just put a little. Seungmin’s just gonna wipe it all off anyway when you two eventually kiss tonight.”

“Oh my god, Ryeong.”

“What! I’m not wrong.” She’s giggling as she tells you to part your lips slightly, applying the soft pink shade on your lips. “You look so pretty.” She coos more to herself, proud of her creation before she’s pinching your cheeks lightly.

She shoves a mirror to your face so you can reap the results of her hard work. She was right.

Chaeryeong did a wonderful job highlighting your natural features and letting the makeup work naturally on your face. You smile brightly, giving her a quick hug and showering her in ‘thank you’s.

“Okay, now get changed. Go, go! We’re gonna be late.”

When you step out, you’re met with the sight of Chaeryeong in a cute, sleeveless dress, leather jacket and fishnets. She looks stunning as she playfully turns around to show off her whole fit. “Damn, one chance?”

“Yeah, right. One chance with Seungmin, you mean.”

“Actually, I’d like to take a million chances with Seungmin.” She cracks into a fit of giggles. “You’re so down horrendous. Look, with the way you look, I’m sensing the first chance will be taken tonight.”

You give yourself a final do-over with Chaeryeong’s words, looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing some loose slacks and a black tube top with a cream colored cardigan. For someone who didn’t have enough time to consult Winter and her amazing fashion sense, you’d say you did pretty well at dressing yourself prettily.

“Okay, okay. Come here, let me put lip gloss on you. I think some of the boys are here already.” You comply, letting her fix up some lip gloss on you before applying some on herself.

“They’re picking us up?”

“Yup. Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin, I think?”

“Seungmin?” You thought you’d have more time to gather yourself and your feelings on the walk to the big field where all the booths were set up.

“Yeah, their dorm is nearest to mine. Come on.”

When you and Chaeryeong step out of her building, the boys are dramatically whistling and clapping their hands. Only when you’re near them do they spill their genuine compliments at the way you two look.

Seungmin’s knee-jerking reaction at seeing you so prettily dressed-up is to just stare at you unabashedly. There’s so much he wants to say, but his eyes remain glued open and his mouth shut.

“Yah, stop staring.” Minho smacks the back of Seungmin’s head and he’s stuttering out for something to say. He wants to tell you that you look beautiful, wants to say something charming to woo you over but he’s left with his mouth parted.

You just laugh at their exchange, taking your spot next to Seungmin as the five of you start walking to the big field. Seungmin looks so painfully attractive with his white shirt and jeans and converse and varsity jacket. He looks like the epitome of a boyfriend – so painfully dashing but also very painfully out of your league.

Meanwhile, Seungmin’s still kicking himself over for not being able to tell you how beautiful he thinks you look. He’s just hoping he’s presented with another opportunity to tell you – and he hopes by then, he’ll have enough courage to say it.

Earlier today, Jeongin and Minho gave him quite the heart-to-heart talk and convinced him to confess his feelings tonight. Besides, as they said, it was the perfect opportunity.

“You like her. You have for like a few years now. Stop being a pussy and tell her.” Minho’s words are rather straightforward. Jeongin groans before punching his arm.

Minho grabs at his arm, shrugging his shoulders before continuing to snack on the chips he had stolen.

“I’m not telling her.” Seungmin mutters to the boys, dejected. “I’m gonna ruin our friendship.”

“How sure are you?” Minho is stubborn as he continues to push Seungmin. “I’m not. But I don’t want to know.”

This time, Jeongin interjects. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? How would you live with yourself if she liked you all along and you let go of that chance so easily?”

“I won’t.”

“Exactly. No one lives a happy life entirely within their comfort zone. If you like her so much then she’s worth dragging yourself out of that zone.” Seungmin stiffens at his roommate’s words, mind racing to truly think about what he’s saying.

Since when did Jeongin get so wise?

As if Minho was thinking the same thing, he narrows his eyes before staring at the youngest of the group. “You got something you wanna share with the class? How come you know so much about asking someone out?”

“The two of you are just stupid. Anyways, just do it.”

The waters Jeongin’s treading on are dangerous, but well worth it if it meant Seungmin’s genuine happiness. He thinks it’s time Seungmin ripped off the poor excuse of a bandaid he taped around his heart and deemed all good now.

“Yeah, or I’ll do it myself.” Minho throws him a sly grin, voice overflowing with mischief.

“Absolutely not.” Seungmin shakes his head in protest, eyes gaping in horror. He immediately grabs the bag of chips from Minho’s lap which the boy immediately tries to grab back. “What’re you gonna do to stop me?”

“Tell Chaeryeong how you wanted her to be your dance partner soooo bad with some screenshots of your messages to me.” Minho should’ve known better than to challenge the one boy that held multiple threats towards each one of them.

His argument was unfair because he and Jeongin were the only people he told that to. Minho’s mood darkens, pulling back the bag of chips with force and resigning from his evil plans of telling you how Seungmin feels about you.

Minho valued his pride more than anything else.

“Look, I’ll do it myself.” Seungmin huffs, rubbing the back of his neck and falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling. “I think.”

Then, Minho’s phone buzzes from right next to him.

“The girls are almost ready. Let’s start walking.”

thirteen.

When the five of you arrive, most of your friends are already there.

Chan’s the first one that sees you.

“Finally.” He greets you and Chaeryeong with a big hug before bumping his fists with the boys. What is it with men and their fist bumps?

Before you can mingle with the rest of the group, Chan leans in discreetly (or at least, as discreet as he could) and whispers to the boys. “Watch out if you’re wearing shoes. Ryujin’s been messing with everyone’s shoelaces the moment we got here.”

You laugh at his warning. Ryujin’s actually such a menace.

“That sounds just about right.” You pat him in the back before going in to give Ryujin a hug. Her face immediately lights up when she sees you and Chaeryeong, wrapping an arm around the both of you as she starts to move away from the boys.

“Ryujin has more rizz than you.”

“I’m not talking to someone who cried while studying Advanced Calculus.”

“Noted.” Felix instantly shuts up, moving to talk about another topic with Hyunjin who's laughing his ass off at Seungmin’s response at the poor boy.

“We’re just waiting on Changbin, Winter, and… Jisung?”

Chan’s head counting the group, pointing at each person and mentally noting down the numbers, making sure that no one was missing. You remember the time Felix had accidentally joined in with Beomgyu’s friend group when he thought he was following Seungmin’s feet. Chan almost lost his mind.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect when they show up from a distance. Jisung seems to be talking Winter’s ear off and Changbin’s trying to pull him back. Winter looks a bit overstimulated with his level of energy, but divulges in the conversation anyway. Jisung appreciates it. You smile at how easy your friends got on with Seungmin’s friends.

Felix excitedly points at the arcade booths lining up, some shooting games, prize wheels, virtual reality. Everyone else reciprocates the excitement, immediately running up to the booths and getting in line. Meanwhile, Jeongin’s dragging Minho at the claw machine. He’s always been notorious for having luck when it came to the claw machine games, and Jeongin was taking his chances the moment he found a bread plushie in the glass case.

“Get it yourself.”

“Chaeryeong!”

Minho shuts him up with a bread plushie he immediately wins for Jeongin. The youngest boy happily holds his prize and keeps his mouth shut.

Chan easily wins Ryujin whatever she asks for in exchange for her leaving his shoelaces alone. Ryujin is easily bribed when it comes to food and free prizes and she knows Chan would probably win most of the games she wanted. Jisung and Changbin were comparing their strengths and boasting about their muscles by the punching machine, and Chaeryeong’s dominating the shooting games with Winter.

“Oh my god, the Sunshine Harvest has a booth. I’ll be back.” Before anyone from the group can accompany you, you’re running towards the direction of the booth. Seungmin understands your rush. Their mango shakes were probably on the way to selling out fast if you didn’t get there sooner.

When you don’t return in the next 20 minutes, Seungmin is sweating frantically. He knows you can handle yourself, but there was now a chock full of new people who had just arrived and were littering the area. It’s when you don’t pick up his calls that tips him over.

“I’m gonna go look for (name).” Chan nods understandingly, and Seungmin disappears in a flash. He thanks his parents for his height at this very moment, scanning through the groups of people and excusing himself so he can navigate towards the Sunshine Harvest booth.

His heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t see you there. But just when he’s about to panic some more, he spots someone hunched over to the very far left, away from the crowd, discarded mango shake container to the side. He practically leaps out of the bench he’s standing on, jogging in your direction.

He doesn’t have the heart to scold you when he finds you playing with Mushroom.

“(Name).” You jump back at the sudden voice, but instantly smile upon realizing it’s just Seungmin. You finally say goodbye to the cat, grabbing your empty bottle before standing up. “Sorry, did I take too long?”

“No, it’s okay.” You just don’t have to know how frantic he was while he was looking everywhere for you.

On the way back to your friends, you don’t realize his hand is glued to the small of your waist so he doesn’t lose you again.

When the group decides to split up, Minho and Jeongin are instantly sending Seungmin stupid dirty looks with their stupid wiggling eyebrows. He knows if he doesn’t confess tonight, Minho might actually do it for him.

The rest of the afternoon goes by so fast. You applaud the university and the student body for organizing the fest. The afternoon transitions to night so smoothly, you don’t even realize the amount of time that passed by.

The bright lights and the loud music is so exhilarating, and it makes you feel so alive — the most alive you’ve felt in the week. There are times when you dance along to the music, exaggerating your movements and Seungmin laughs with his head rolled back and you’d embarrass yourself over and over to keep hearing him laugh.

Seungmin takes the weight off your chest so easily. All he does is pat your head and squeeze your cheeks and accompany you wherever you wish to go and suddenly, you feel lighter. Happier. And it is so, so loud. Everyone around you is talking, crowded together but you can’t hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hand in yours to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd and the way it fits perfectly. Like his hand was meant to be crafted to hold yours.

It’s how you continue to feel when you find yourselves amongst the crowd of the concert, pretending to know the lyrics of the songs playing, screaming at each other when you actually recognize the song. Everything you do with him is something you wish you could capture in a photo.

He’s singing, and you look at him with a silent glee in your eyes, hoping to touch the same greatness that Kim Seungmin always held and hoping to burn the memory of his singing and his soft eyes and his hand in yours. You almost feel like flying.

His eyes are warm when you look at them, golden brown peeking down at you with fondness. You’ve always loved his eyes the most. It has always been his most obvious tell — of the things they feel and the things they’ve made you feel when he stared at you a little longer than normal.

Your lips quirk up in a smile, and you find yourself singing along to the songs with him. You were never the greatest singer, but with him, you felt like loveliest melodies and tunes flow out of you comfortably.

This time, Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision, admiring your naturally dusted cheeks and your beaming eyes and your messed up hair from the wind and from running around all night. How could you stand there and sing without a care in the world and smile and look so, so beautiful.

And there are many things Seungmin considers to be beautiful. He loves the sunrise and the sunsets and the way the sky blends into a perfect mix of colors along the horizon before the moon chases the sun away. He loves the flowers and the trees on his way to his classes and the wind’s breeze wrapping you in a cold blanket. He loves the stars and their relentless twinkling and how they coat the night sky, making sure the moon is never lonely. But above all, he loves you and your smile and the way you chew on your lips when you think and how you make him feel like he can touch the sky.

Seungmin finds he’d sacrifice the sunset and sunrise and the twinkling stars if it meant he could call you and all of you, his.

He doesn’t say anything when he drops his varsity jacket on your shoulders and he doesn’t meet your eyes when you look up at him to thank him.

You make Seungmin trip over his own words. All tangled in adoration and longing. Between all the galaxies and universes, Seungmin concludes he’s lucky to have landed under the same stars as you.

With all this in mind, Seungmin’s sure he’s upgraded way beyond the like. He’s in love with you — in the hopeless, clumsy, exhilarating kind of way. And he finds that loving you is something he wants to experience no matter the outcome.

If he was told you’d never feel the same and if he’d still take the chance to fall in love with you, he’d say yes. It’s a yes again and again and again. Always a yes. He’d prefer the unrequited over never knowing how it feels to love you and every part of you.

“(Name)?”

Despite the loudness of the music and the fireworks and the people around you, you find Seungmin’s voice cut through them all.

Looking up at him, you find him looking at you in a way he never has done before. In the way he’s done so many times when you weren’t looking. There’s something swirling in his eyes, some kind of longing and desire.

I've been alone for too long

You've been there all along

The distance between you is closing. Seungmin’s heart is racing when he peels his hand from yours in favor of cradling your cheek gently, tracing along your jaw and soaking in every detail about your face.

Ethereal love

I will choose you now and everyday

Seungmin’s putting everything on the line, stepping into the unknown, heartbeat pounding in his ears. There’s still time for you to pull away, to run away from the certainty he feels about you, to shatter him into a million pieces.

He hopes you won’t.

His eyes flutter shut, but when he opens them again, you’re already gone.

fourteen.

It’s the first time Seungmin doesn’t blow up your notifications.

Jeongin confiscates his phone when he comes home to Seungmin downing a bottle of vodka. He’s immediately concerned for his roommate’s wellbeing and what could’ve led to Seungmin’s sudden want to get drunk.

“Hey, what happened?” He sits on the ground to accompany Seungmin, grabbing the bottle when he sees that it’s almost empty.

“Let me sulk properly.” Then, he’s grabbing the bottle back from Jeongin, chugging down the remains before harshly setting it down on the ground. A sharp sigh leaves his throat before he leans in to rest his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. And he sits there and lets him.

Jeongin lets him because Seungmin needed someone right now. “I fucked up, Innie.”

It’s the most fragile Jeongin’s ever heard from his roommate and he takes Seungmin’s hand to let him know that he’s listening. “Tried to kiss (name). I ruined everything.”

Jeongin’s face twists in confusion, heart rising in his own throat. He knows you like Seungmin back. And if Seungmin tried to kiss you, he would’ve thought the result of that would be a very happy phone call from his roommate – not him drinking until he forgets.

Seungmin feels pathetic, and Jeongin swears to get to the bottom of things. With sleepy fucked up eyes, Seungmin looks up at the boy, chin tilted up and lips quivering. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“I know she will. Come here.” Seungmin bows his head faintly, head falling on Jeongin’s chest as he allows himself to be hugged – allows himself to be vulnerable and to feel because it’s something that doesn’t need to be taught, but needs to be remembered over and over again.

Jeongin wraps his arms around the boy. Seungmin attempts to swat his arms away, the way he’s used to, but he thinks it feels quite nice to be hugged.

He had downed the pain and was begging for the temporary buzz to kick in all while his fingers are clenched on the fabric of Jeongin’s shirt and his tears are leaving a wet spot where his face is pressed against.

There’s a burn in his heart, just under his chest and it’s squeezing so tightly. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and he cries a little more. Is this what it felt like to have someone to lose?

Even if he knows you won’t let his feelings get in between your friendship, the unrequitedness of the feelings Seungmin has held for years is dawning on him and it is so, so painful.

Jeongin shoots you a quick text to meet him tomorrow.

fifteen.

You wake up to a text from Jeongin which is how you know you’ve truly fucked up now.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, and you feel horrendous.

You’re honestly not even sure how it happened. What a grief it is that your memory works the way they do and how you don’t remember how it felt to have his face so close to yours. It deprives you of the memory of his eyes and his lips, and they let go of the feeling of his hand in yours while you watched the fireworks.

The human brain is beautiful, but how dare it cost the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands cradling your face.

In hindsight, you know you shouldn’t have run away. But you were afraid. You were afraid it was just a heat of the moment thing and Seungmin didn’t actually want to kiss you. Were you the one that came onto him? Did you initiate the kiss?

Everything had felt so right before the fear settled in. You’ve been left with questions that were never answered before, all the voices in your head you’ve shut out for so long screaming at you. Was this how it felt to have someone to lose?

You bury your face in your hands in frustration. Did you ruin years of friendship because you wanted to know how his lips felt like on yours?

You’re not sure what you’re thinking when you walk towards where Jeongin tells you to meet up, but you do know you’re immediately regretting it. Especially when you see a familiar figure walking towards where you’re standing.

“I – I have to go.” You blurt out the moment you see him. “I’m sorry. I have to.. I need to be somewhere.” You feel selfish – walking away from him because you’re not ready to hear his rejection.

“Wait, (name). Let me explain myself.”

You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear the words you’d been dreading to hear.

Backed up by your one-sided feelings, you turn yourself around and your fingers tighten around the sleeves of the jacket you’re wearing, and you shake your head as you try to quicken your pace so you can get out of there as soon as you can.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.”

His sudden confession stops you in your tracks.

You find it physically impossible to turn around and look at him. Trembling lips are so easy to discern, especially on Seungmin.

“(Name), please… please look at me.” You will yourself to look at him, and when you brave eye contact, you notice his lips trembling in trial of a smile. But it’s sad, it’s so sad and his lips start to quiver. It’s difficult to ignore the crack in his whispers and the pain in his transparent eyes.

“I feel like I’m losing you.” The words taste bitter on his tongue. He knows exactly why.

They’re words he never thought he’d ever utter in his lifetime, and now that he’s saying them, the reality is hitting him much harder.

“Did I do something wrong? Was it because I tried to kiss you?” Seungmin’s having difficulty speaking, especially with the lump in his throat and the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He hasn’t cried in such a long time. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

He sounds ashamed, and the break in his voice does nothing to disguise his guilt.

You hate that. You hate that you made Seungmin feel this way over one big misunderstanding. His confession repeats in your head over and over and you feel the buildup of bile in your stomach when you realize you’ve hurt Seungmin.

Your mouth dries. There’s so much you want to tell him, but you find no words escape your throat. It feels like there are fingers being shoved down your throat.

Before you can push down the nausea, Seungmin breaks eye contact. His heart is beating incredibly fast and he thinks he’s fucked up with you further by confessing his repressed emotions – confessing his feelings he was so practiced in hiding.

A spell of dizziness sends Seungmin tumbling backwards, heart racing and palms sweating. He looks at you, studying your expression, and the silence feels like it goes on for too long and he thinks he’s made a mistake.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

His sorry feels a lot like he’s saying goodbye.

Seungmin disappears in the blink of an eye.

sixteen.

It’s the first time in a long time that you’re the one blowing up his notifications.

He doesn’t reply to your texts. Granted it’s 3AM and the poor boy is probably asleep.

You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, unable to catch even a wink of sleep with the amount of thoughts racing in your mind. The image of Seungmin, of his red eyes, of his tears, emerges from the night around you. It stubbornly laments, refusing you any form of peace. You deserve it.

Overwhelming sadness stunned you, shadowing over Seungmin’s confession. You don’t allow his words to linger. It’s incredibly unfair to feel hope when Seungmin’s out there feeling his most hopeless.

You’re about to turn again, forcing your eyes shut when the familiar ringtone of Facetime echoes from your phone. Almost immediately, you’re leaping off your bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

Oh.

It’s Winter.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” You stare at her through the screen of your phone, and it looks like she’s making herself comfortable. She’s seated on her lazy boy chair, blankets bunched up around her shoulders and a mug of something steaming by her side.

“What?”

“I was gonna walk over to your building, but it’s 3am and I am not about to die just so I can come over and hug you. I’ll do that tomorrow.”

Your heart melts at Winter’s observance. She notices, even if it’s the most minuscule little thing. Winter always notices, and unlike the insincerity pouring from other people when they say they’re only one call away, Winter actually is. She’s one call, one text, one anything away.

“Come on, talk to me.” So you do. You tell her everything from the start. The very start.

You tell her that from the moment you met Seungmin, your mind had started crafting a romance story, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was working part-time at a coffee shop, and you’re not exactly sure how it happened, but you remember the cold sensation of coffee all over you and a promise to make it up to you. When he introduced himself, he shook your hand.

His hand felt like warm cookies dipped in milk.

And you tell her ever since then, you spent almost every day getting to know Seungmin and his love for the sunrise and the sunset and how passionate he is about singing but rarely ever does it in front of people and how he is repulsed by physical touch but never really minds when it’s with you. He’s still the same boy you met in that coffee shop, albeit he walks more confidently now. He grew into his features and had a broader back now, but he was still the same boy whose hand you held on the way to his dentist appointment. He was still the Kim Seungmin who smiled at you so brightly when he got his braces removed, and continued to smile at you today.

It’s been a long way since that coffee shop, but he’s remained to be the one true constant in your life. You’re convinced you were always destined to meet him. You reason it’s because you’d be a completely different person now if it wasn’t for him. If you hadn’t met at that coffee shop, you’re convinced Whoever Is Above would’ve found a way for you to meet over and over and over again.

Everything carries you to him, as if everything that exists were little boats that sailed directly to him — to where he was waiting. To where he’s still waiting.

And then you tell her about the night of the festival. How you almost kissed him, and how you regret every second after for not just pressing your lips on his. You tell her of his confession, and how you love him tenfold, even before you knew what love was.

Loving Seungmin was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. It was falling in love with his eyes and the sound of his laughter and the little things he reserves for you and for your eyes only.

“Why’d you run away?” It was a valid question. You don’t even know yourself.

“I guess I was just scared.” You hesitate with your answer, putting your arms around you and staring at nothing in particular.

“He loves you.”

“I didn’t know.”

And in hindsight, maybe you should’ve. When you look back for a sign that Seungmin’s loved you all along, you end up finding it interwoven in his teasing. He left so many signs, and you didn’t see a single one.

There was love in his long, overbearing messages — telling you to eat, asking you about your day, scolding you for worrying him. There was love in his phone calls, in keeping you company in whatever you did because he knows you don’t like the silence very much. The quiet left you alone in your head, and you despised feeling lonely. Love echoed in your laughter and reflected in your smiles even if your jokes weren’t funny. There was love, even in the tiktoks he sent you with the small comment of “us”. It was in the dinners you shared and in the absence of words because he just understood.

Maybe that’s what love is. Maybe this is what Kim Seungmin’s heart feels like. His love was never made up of grand gestures, it was always in the little things that told you his life is so intertwined with yours.

There was always love all along.

There still is.

“He just knows me so well, I thought he could never see me romantically after getting to know all my bad sides.”

“Being known is being loved.” Winter’s words linger in your head as you play a flashback of your years with Seungmin, replaying all the scenes.

Being known is being loved.

Everything hits you all at once. When he got you that mango shake you loved so much and complained about because it sells out so fast. When you saw the campus dogs and cats that one night, and how he remembered what you said. When he knows you’re deep in thought just because you were chewing at your lips. When he recalls the gift you got a few Christmases ago because it made you so happy. When he lets you borrow the hoodies you mentioned were your favorite. When he memorizes your coffee order by heart.

Love never needed to have the tsunamis and the thunderstorms. Love is just… love. It’s just the quietness, the stillness, the calm. Sometimes, it doesn’t have to feel like a million lightning strikes. It just has to feel like finally letting out that one breath you’ve been holding on for too long.

Being known is being loved.

“I have to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“And he loves me.”

“He loves you.”

seventeen.

It isn’t even 8am when you’re pacing back and forth in front of his dorms.

You know Seungmin usually wakes up early, but you’re unsure of his sleeping patterns as of recently. You haven’t been given the privilege to know, so you text Jeongin.

Your fingers drum nervously on the side of your thighs, feet shuffling as you stare at their gate, thinking that any moment, he could walk out.

Last night, you practiced will-induced self conversations over how you were going to approach Seungmin today. You concluded it best not to practice anything you wanted to tell him. You owed him your honesty and a genuine, sincere undertone in your words and apology.

In all honesty, the moment you had arrived within the vicinity of their dorms, you had contemplated whether you should just continue right. Maybe you could just order an iced Americano at a cafe to remind you of Seungmin. Confrontation never came easy to you. But the thought of being an absentee in his life forever scared you and willed you to take the few steps forward towards the entrance of their dorms.

However, it’s been a good ten minutes since you arrived, and those ten minutes are not the most kind when you’re feeling nervous and about to throw up. It really leaves a lot of room for thinking, and right now it’s thinking that Seungmin wants absolutely nothing to do with you anymore because he thought you were so repulsed by the idea of him loving you and kissing you (even though you felt quite the opposite).

Just when you were about to take a step backward and contemplate the rest of your life, Jeongin walks out of the building pulling a still very sleepy and very disoriented Seungmin behind him.

“Okay, kiss and make up.” Jeongin clasps his hands together before pointing a threatening finger at you. “Don’t mess this up again.” And then he’s on his way back to the inside of their dorm building (peeking through their windows from time to time).

The first thing you discern is his incredibly puffy eyes. From sleeping or crying? You don’t know. And then it’s his pathetic attempt to smile even though he doesn’t feel like it. Seeing him like this, because of you, makes you want to fall on your knees and weep.

Your eyes trail to the rest of him – his messy hair, his slumped shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The instinct to hold it is strong, you know it always manages to calm him down. But you don’t.

“(Name).” His voice sounds thick and heavy, looking at your eyes for a second before looking back down on the pavement. You recognize the pitch of his voice. He was sad and unsure.

You take a few steps forward, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he meets your eyes again. It has the same look the day he confessed to you. The same tilting of his head ever so slightly, albeit a little more tired and a little less hopeful. His eyes look like they’re filled with quiet thoughts, looking at you gently even though you had shattered them.

Seungmin, for the first time in a long time, looks regretful.

“Seungmin, I wanted to… I… I’m sorry.” He simply nods his head, sucking in a shark breath as he thinks this was it. This was the rejection he’d been dreading to hear.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, your apology threatening to send a new wave of tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I said especially when I know you don’t feel the same.”

“Wait, what? No… no. Seungmin, that’s not it.”

There’s a long pause before you speak again.

“I just… dd you really mean it? What you said yesterday?”

Seungmin cringes at himself, but the red blossoming on his cheeks and the way his features soften when he remembers his words give him away. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand through his hair.

“Yes.” He admits, an unknown feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach.

That’s all you needed to hear.

Placing your palms on each side of his face, you pull him towards you in what you thought would be a romantic show of your feelings.

Instead, you underestimate his height and your lips crash into his nose instead. Seungmin stiffens in surprise, at the sudden proximity of your face to his and the accidental kiss you pressed on his nose, and then he laughs.

Seungmin laughs in the hopeless, clumsy, breathless, exhilarating kind of laugh that sends your cheeks flushing and your heart fluttering because you’ve missed that laugh so much.

He was never sure he acted right that night, that he wasn’t being selfish. But with your palms in his cheeks and your eyes reciprocating the same love all along, he knows he did the right thing. So, with a gentle sigh of relief, he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours.

Seungmin feels like he can finally breathe again. He kisses you with every love and affection he’s kept hidden for years and years.

You were venturing into the void of the unknown again, kissing your best friend, but it feels safe. There wasn’t that fear of the uncharted. There was only comfort as it always has been with him. The weight of happiness is so overwhelming, and Seungmin thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than kissing you after years of longing.

When the both of you pull away, the feeling of his arms around your waist and his forehead pressed against yours and the fond look on his face sends you toppling over. This was the image of your dreams.

He mirrors the soft smile on your face, hand moving to trace your face and your jaw before placing another kiss on your nose, and your cheek, and the corner of your lips. Your skin tingles at the way his lips and his warm breath tickles you, and your heart skips a bit when you realize you don’t mind feeling this every day for the rest of your life.

“Can I hear you say it?” He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

“I love you.”

Seungmin feels wholeheartedly content, heart bursting and ears burning red at hearing you utter those three words he’s dreamt about.

“I’ve loved you since you begged me to come with you to your dentist appointment.”

And then he laughs again, pressing his pointer finger on your forehead with a slight betrayal in his eyes.

“You’re telling me I could’ve kissed you for years now?” He speaks in exaggeration, and you know he’s truly thinking about it.

“You have all the time in the world now.”

“You know what? I like the sound of that.” He moves his hands from your face in favor of wrapping them around your waist – pulling you in the type of hug where you can completely relax against him and melt into his familiar intimacy. The one that’s been there all along, although a little held back.

You don’t know what’s next. With the vastness and unpredictability of the earth you stand on, you don’t know what follows. The busy morning highway is starting to fill your ears, and the sound of lives starting echos from afar. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s phone rings and there’s a sound of laughing and running from students alike.

You find that in the chorus of laughter and honking horns and ringtones, the world is telling you that you don’t have to know what’s next. All you need to know is the inhale and exhale and the quietness that Seungmin’s heart offers.

He’ll be here for a long time, continuing to know and know and know and love you.

eighteen.

8:24am

jeongin: FUCKING FINALLY

minho: ????

chan: language

8:25am

jeongin: (sent a picture)

hyunjin: oh my god????

changbin: our seungmin’s a big boy now

jisung: wdym i wont have to hear seungmin’s mopy ass anymore

chaeryeong: ^^ same with yn :(( but also so happy lol

8:26am

ryujin: EVERYONE CHEERED

jeongin: everyone say thank you jeongin

winter: u mean thank u winter???

hyunjin: felix is crying again

chan: WHY

felix: love is beautiful

changbin: me and who

note. hi hi thank u for making it to the very end of my first ever stray kids fic. i hope you ended up enjoying the ride ^_^ lmk what u thought and who i should write for next!

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