#but got caught in a little summer rain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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

761 notes · View notes

grugruel · 6 months

Text

Bad News 1 |

Parts: 1/2, read part 2 HERE

Parings: dbf!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Inspired by, Call me by your name

Summary: Your fathers best friend accompanies you and your family to your summer house in the country. Sparks ignite as you grow closer, secretly spending one-on-one time together at night.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: plot with smut, secret-relationship, angst, choking, praise kink, petname (doll), oral sex (f recieving), pinv sex, fingering, creampie, c*ck warming.

AN: Ill make it into a series if yall like it, please enjoy!

Baring Throats

I leaned onto the windowsill, one arm stretched into the cool night air, holding a half smoked ciagrette as I rested my head in the crook of the other. A song filled the empty night, small birds and morning doves serenaded me beautifully, the occasional cranes interuppting with their paired cries.

I took a puff, exhailing slowly as I admired the view overlooking the garden, the vast grass plains surronding the house and the tree line in the distance. It separated us from the forest, obscuring the lake behind it and hiding all things wild. I glanced down the long road leading up to the house, and found a man walking along it.

Bucky, heading back from another venture into town. Perhaps he had visited a lady friend, which he had a good number of, perhaps it wasnt any of my concern. It shouldnt bother me, yet, it did.

I found my mind drifting, painting a picture of him in a bed, sweaty and naked, laying next to another woman and a spark of jealousy flared up inside me. The sound of footsteps on a gravel path approached, bringing me back to the moment, I blinked the images away and rebuked myself.

Looking down to the ground, my eyes met his. Smiling, I greeted him amd leaned over the sill. Nothing on but a thin t-shirt and a pair of panties, goosebumps prickled my skin. He smiled back at me. We looked at eachother in silent understanding, our business remaining our own. Wordlessly we communicated, I took another drag of the cigarette and he gestured for me to give him one, I held my index finger up, indicating for him to wait a second as I grabbed the pack and lighter from my nightstand, in turn tossing them down to him. Graciously he caught them and lit up, I nodded my head inside, asking him to join me. He took a long drag of the cig, considering me carefully, but he shook his head. Smiling increadolously, he pointed at me as if saying, "youre bad news" then snuffed his cigarette and went inside.

I heard him walking up the stairs, toward my room, the footsteps stopping just outside my door. Please knock, I begged, he seemed to be considering it, but a moment passed and then another, and at last he left. Entering his own room instead, opposite mine.

This had been our routine for the past few weeks, both being night owls, we'd sometimes encounter eachother on the premises. Coming from our separete affairs, but never asking the other where they'd been. We'd share a snack, talk in hushed voices, hold in laughs and shush eachother when we inevitably were to loud. It became our little secret, not because we did anything innapropriate, but simply because it were a few moments that belonged to just the two of us. Talking about things we couldnt talk about with anyone else. It had been innocent at first, but at some point had that charming smile of his begun to make me blush, at some point had his touching become more tender and at some point did our night time talks stop being accidental, but rather sought out. Last night, we'd come dangerously close to kissing and I think alarm bells sounded for the both of us, which is why we kept our distance tonight.

Dissapointed I went to bed, falling asleep with unseemly images of my fathers best friend clouding my mind.

I slept late into the next day, the sound of heavy rain battering the roof roused me from my sleep. As I got ready to go about my day, I found a note slid under my door, my lighter was inside, along with a few written words "Smoking is bad, you know. I'd better finish them for you :)" Chuckling, I saved the note, tucking it into my nightstand. Wiseass.

Due to poor weather and lack of outdoor activities, the family + one was gathered in the livingroom. My parents on one sofa, dad holding an arm around my mom as they read from the same book, my brother in the armchair and Bucky on the other sofa, everyone reading a variety of something. They all looked up as I entered the room, feigning surprise that I had finally joined them.

'Good afternoon stranger.' my father chuckled. I kissed my mothers cheek in greeting, she smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand in response as I passed them.

'About time you graced us with your prescence' Bucky teased, making my brother and mother join in with the cheerful joking.

I smirked and shook my head, waving my hands dissmissively, 'Very funny, I blame the weather.' I said and gestured toward the sky, sitting down on the empty seat next to Bucky. I laid my legs in his lap and leaned back against the armrest, propping my head up on a pillow. A conversation was struck up, talking about what I had missed, discussing resent books and making plans for tomorrow, it seemed like we'd go to the beach. Ocasionally, Bucky would grab and squeeze my legs when talking, in the same way some people gestured to get their point across.

As the chill of the evening drew closer, we lit a fire in the hearth and grabbed blankets. But a shortage occured, so I had to move closer to Bucky, he laid an arm across my shoulder as I curled up intill him so one blanket would be enough for the both of us. We grabbed a few bottles of wine, dusted off the old board games and got down to business. A heated game of monopoly ensued, followed by a short dinner break, eventually resulting in very drunk charades. Bucky and I teamed up, two versus three and we won regardless. Were all very competitve people, safe to say that none of us went to bed feeling very sportsmanlike that night. As the evening wound down, so did our energy, the wine was taking its toll. My legs were tucked against Buckys chest as I leaned my head against his shoulder, he circled his arms around my legs and rested his chin on my knees. Lazily the five of us talked for a while longer, enjoying the pleasent atmosphere of the night while we were still contious to do so. Eventually though, as laughs turned into yawns, Bucky and I offered to stay behind and clean up while the other three departed. Tidying went by quickly, we made a good team. As I discarded the last of the dishes in the sink, he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead, trying to keep his focus on my eyes, 'Go to bed, doll. I got the rest.' He said, smiling sweetly, attempting to act sober and rubbed my shoulders tenderly.

I looked at him with hazy eyes, 'If you say so.' I answered, smiling lazily, then went upstairs. Between our rooms, there was a french balcony. It stood wide open, my parents had presumably opened it in a drunk hot-flash to let air in. I was headed for my room, but my mind drifted to the crisp, sublte wind calling my name. My feet changed direction by themselves, and magically I appeared in the opening.

Leaned against the doorframe, I fell half asleep, the rain had devolved into a drizzle, but the air was damp and pleasantly chilly against my skin. Involuntairy shivers took over my body, but I was to tired to move. I heard distant footsteps behind me, coming and going, and eventually coming back again. The steps approached and strong arms circled around my shoulders, a warm body pressing up against my back. He'd covered himself with a blanket, holding the ends in his hands and gift wrapped me into his embrace. I held onto his forearms, a smile kn my lips as I basked in his warmth.

He rested his head on my shoulder, 'You were gonna freeze.' He explained himself, whispering against my ear and sending a cold shiver through my spine. I leaned my head back against his chest, sighing happily as we stood silently, appreciating eachothers presence. I drunk his scent in as our breaths matched up, the birds singing for us once again.

'I want my cigs back.' I complained, drunkenly disturbing our peaceful moment.

Bucky chuckled, 'I dont want you to get cancer.' He protested, half-joking.

I turned around, alcohol causing the bounderies of a long friendship to blur. I placed my hands on his chest and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes, making them as big and pretty as a puppys 'Please?' I asked kindly.

He looked at me with adoration in his gaze, removing the blanket from himself and covering my shoulders with it. A smirk curved his lips as he looked at me, shaking his head in defeat. Wordslessly his manmersism spoke for him, 'Youre bad news." they told me, and this it would get the better of him. He grabbed my hand and led me into his room. Once inside he let go of me, opened his window and began rummaging around his dresser. I leaned my back against the windowsill, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and crossed my arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I waited, watching him with a smile on my lips. His arm shot up into the air, displaying the packet proudly as he found them, 'I'll give you, one.' He told me quietly, a stern expression on his face.

My mouth fell open in disbelief, 'I payed for them!' I exclaimed, forgetting myself. Bucky put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and walked up to me. He took a cigarette out of the pack and opened his hand expectantly, I gave him the lighter and he lit his cig, taking a puff and leaving it between his lips. He rested his elbows on the windowsill behind me and leaned forward, leveling his head with mine. Moving past my head, gracing my cheek with his as he blew the smoke out of the window, then leaned back. He had one arm on each side of me, crossed behind my back, he had me pinned between him and the window. Our faces were inches apart, both painfully aware that this wasnt appropriate of a daughter and the family friend, but the wine had pushed out any reason or logic of our minds. I couldnt help but look away, suddenly shy. Luring a smile from him as he observed the way a blush crept its way up my cheeks. I took the cig from him, my fingertips acidentally grazing his lips, and placed it between my own. I took a puff and faced him again, our eyes locked, sharing hidden thoughts through transparent gazes.

Energy sizzled in the air, building onto the tension between us, magnetizing it, pulling at the invisible string that connected us. 'Let me taste.' He whispered, inching closer. I hesitated, before slowly exhaling the smoke as he breathed it in, sharing the toxic cloud between us, poisoning our judgement. I felt myself drawn closer to him, the string pulling taunt on both ends, his lips a mere ghost over mine. Temptation coarsed through our veins, causing heavy breathing as we fought our urges. But we both gave in, in the end.

Our lips met in a soft kiss, he moved his arms from the windowsill and grabbed my waist. I was taken off guard, but welcomingly so. Complicated feelings bounced through my mind, but I couldnt back down now. I hurridly snuffed out the cigarette against the sill and snaked my hands around his neck as I kissed him back, pulling him closer. His hands found their way under my shirt, sliding up my torso until his fingertips touched the plush flesh of my breasts. He inhaled sharply, the oxygen returning to his brain as common sense flooded back to him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, this was his best friends daughter. He tore free from the claws of desire, grabbing my arms and unhooking them from his neck, he backed up. I reached out for him, but he pulled away, sitting down at the end of his bed, he laid his head in his hands, a labored sigh leaving him.

'We cant, you know we cant.' He whispered, voice muffled against his palms. I did know, but I couldnt help it. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his, grabbing his bicep as I rested my head against his shoulder. He sat straighter, letting one of his hands fall to my knee as the other stroked my hair, he kissed the top of my head.

'I just- Why did it turn out this way?' I asked him quietly, my voice quivering 'I know we cant, but. . .' I paused, thinking of the right words. His hand slid from my hair to gently caress my cheek, then tracing his fingers finger along my jaw until they found purchase under my chin and tilted my face to meet his. I searched his gaze for something unknow to me, 'I need you.' I whispered foolishly, my eyes watering, 'This is all your fault you know, your stupid smile and caring words.' I laughed mirthlessly, keeping my eyes locked on his, as a tear threatened to fall.

He cupped my face with boths hands, looking at me with a sorrowful expression as he leaned his forehead against mine.

'Bucky, please.' I whispered, leaning into his touch 'If you cant have me, stop this.' I pulled one of his hands from my face, clasping my own around it and kissed his palm softly before letting it fall to my lap.

'I cant get stuck. . . Wanting your love if you cannot give it to me.' I told him quietly, squeezing his hand as my voice broke, I leaned back, meeting his eyes again, pleading, 'Please say something.'

But he remained quiet as his eyes welled, admiring my blushed, tear streaked face.

My eyebrows furrowed, not understanding how he could be so cruel. A tear finally rolled down my cheek and my chin quivered in disbelief, I was nothing more than a naive girl to him.

I looked away, not wanting him to see the pain he caused me. I took his silence as a rejection and moved to stand, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving, 'Let me go.' I cried silently, unwilling to face him as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood again, pulling, trying to unclasp my hand from his grip but I could not, 'Please Buck, I cant do this.' I croaked, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to blink my tears away.

'Look at me.' He ordered softly, but I refused. 'Doll.' He whispered in warning, but hearing his name for me only made my cry harder, I pulled on his grip again but he was unrelenting. 'Sit, please.' He asked this time, desperation burried in his voice.

'No.' I answered, resolute.

As I was not cooperating, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me back down and cupped my face as kissed me harshly, I fought him out of anger, but quickly melted into his touch, all was forgiven, it had always been.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moaning from just the taste of me. My hands found their way to his brown locs, burrying themselves, while his hands felt their way down my body. We fell backwards onto the bed and he cilimbed on top of me, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. His lips found my neck, trailing kisses from my jaw to collarbone as his hand kneaded its way up my thigh, my skirt catching on his wrist. His lips left my skin as he sat up, scaring me for a moment as I thought he changed his mind. But he climbed down to the foot of the bed, knees on the floor and hooked his hands under my kees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. His hands found my panties and ripped them off, I gasped from the sudden gust of cold air hitting my wet core. He kissed my thighs, licking and nipping as he worked his way inwards, panting inbetween pecks, desperate to taste me. He looked up at me, meeting my eyes as he hovered over my core, his breath fanning over my clit, he looked like a crazed mad man. The anticipation was overflowing, I bit my lip, nodding for him to go ahead and he dove in. Lapping at my clit, tasting me. I almost screamed from the sudden sensation, but covered my mouth at the last second. I rutted my hips against him, hoping for further friction, but his hands grabbed my hips, holding me down so he could please with intention. I whined, grabbing at the sheets, pulling on them for support, It wasnt enough.

'More, more.' I moaned, and he obligingly latched onto my clit, sucking as two of his fingers found their way inside me, thrusting and curling at my pleasure. Breathy moans escaped me as I was getting closer to cumming.

'Close, real close' I managed with a mumbling voice, he squeezed my hip in reassurance, telling me it was alright. I hummed as the knot in my stumache pulled tighter, he pushed another finger inside me and im convinced I saw the light. I came tumbling over the edge, stiffling another scream by shoving my face into the bed. And as I was catching my breath, he kissed his way back up to me, climbing on top once again, he snaked one arm under my back to pull my shirt off, freeing my breasts, then lifted my hips to take my skirt off, followed by his own shirt and sweats. He was huge, no surpise there.

'You okay?' He asked, and I hummed in response, cupping his face and pulling him back up to my lips, kissing him with a burning passion. He pulled back, 'Use your words girl.' He said sternly.

'Need you.' I whispered, kissing him again.

'You sure doll?' he asked against my lips, I nodded enthusiastically.

'Please, Ive never wanted anything more.' I assured him. He hooked my leg onto his knee, raising it to get better access to my opening. I circled my other leg around his hip and he lined himself up with my entrance.

'Look at me.' He ordered again, and I met his eyes, gazes locked deeply as his tip teased my entrance. I admired his beautiful face as I circled my arms around his shoulders, preparing for whatever was to come. Suddenly he slid inside me and we gasped in unisome, he didnt move for a second so I could get used to his size. He stroked a strand of hair behind my ear as he admired my face, 'My beautiful girl.' He whispered, making my heart beat faster.

He pulled out of me and thrusted in again softly, setting a slow but intent pace. Each thrust took my breath away, all the while he was grunting in my ear. His hand found its way to my throat, closing around it and squeezed, putting slight pressure on it and stealing another moannfrom me in the process. He graced his nose against my cheek, kissing my jaw as he thrusted deeper, and I met them with desperate ruts, 'C'mon doll, just like that.' He encouraged me in a breathy voice, that alone couldve been enough to make me cum. He trailed kisses down my chest and latched onto my breast, taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at my nipple as his hand found the other, kneading it intently.

'Getting- closer.' I hummed, but his thrusting slowed, eventually stopping completley. 'Buck?' I questioned, and he let go of my breasts, pulling out of me completley, pleasure and confusion mixed my mind into a strange mess. He backed up, grabbed my legs, raising them and in one solid motion hooked them onto his shoulders and thrust into me again, deeper than ever before. A loud moan tore through me, to blided by the feeling that I completley forgot about being silent. His hand quickly covered my mouth as he began a ruthlessly deep and hard pace, rocking my entire body. His mouth quickly replaced his hand, kissing me deepley, passionateley, in rythm with his thrusts.

'Almost there, doll.' He mumbled between kisses, I nodded, not able to for words, but I was close to. The knot in my stumache terribly close to coming undone once again. His thrustingbecame rougher, harder as he closed in on his orgasm, hitting that sweet spot every time. Our breaths were nothing more than frenzied moans, his pace faltered, giving it all he had for a few last thrusts before we both came undone. Warm liquid spurting into me as he collpased on top of me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and kissing my skin softly as we cought or breath, 'Good girl.' He whispered, 'My good, good girl.' He panted, still inside me as his seed slowly, sippered out of me.

My heart fluttered at his words as I fought to keep my eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from the day along with the bliss of our secret activities were catching up to us. He laid an arm around my ribbcage, pulling me closer to him, I hooked my leg over his hip and curled up to him. I gave him a quick peck on the lips as he kissed my forehead, and we fell asleep in eachothers arms.

I woke up later in the night, but in my own room. I wouldve thought I had dreamt it all if it wasnt for the blanket tucked tightly around me, still smelling of him.

Read part two HERE <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst

961 notes · View notes

1800jjbarnes · 7 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏 : 𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇

Gloomy Days

【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But luckily, Steve knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.

『W.C』 : 1.07k

-> Genre: Fluff. Slice of slice. Smut

Paring: Boyfriend!Steve x F.Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Petnames (Stevie, Peach, Baby). Making out. Steve got big dick energy. Riding. Hand job-ish. Unprotected sex (that's a no, no).

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober 2023 list.

The rain poured heavily as the hot summer day out turned quickly into a stormy stay-at-home kind of day. You and Stev ran without a second thought as soon as the first drop of water hit your forehead, spilling down your cheek. Once you finally made it to Steve's car, he opened the boot to let you crawl in haste. He soon followed you once he had finished poorly folding the picnic blanket, and when you say folded, it was more scrunched up and thrown onto one of the car's back seats.

“Well, today was not what I planned.” Steve huffed, feeling disappointment riddle his mind. This was your six-month anniversary date, and he had planned to make the none other than special. But what he didn’t expect was to be soaked head to toe in buckets of water.

“It’s okay, I still had fun.” You chimed in with a big smile still plastered on your face. You were cuddled up to him, with your legs dangling out of the car, all the while watching a little water stream starting to form in front of you. “We can still continue the fun here.” Your words got caught in your throat as blush taints your plump cheeks, suddenly recalling back just before the storm set in and you and Steve were peacefully making out on a picnic blanket in the middle of nowhere. He smirked ear to ear, finding your words rather dirty, even though they mostly had an innocent intent. You were just talking about the softness of the date, not the… other stuff.

He didn’t say anything in response to you. Instead, he turned his whole body, pushing you down in the back of his large car boot. His hand rested on the back of your head while he urged you to lay down, letting your head hit the floor with a huff. His lips latch onto yours in seconds, biting and sucking a moan out of you. you bucked your hips up, feeling his knee push slightly against your clothed core. Your body began to crave him, no longer feeling cold from the rain, but rather annoyed the your wet clothes were blocking his way.

“Stevie…” your whimpers were music to his ears. Pulling away, his breath hitched, seeing your glossed expression. You are perfect in every way to him, your voice, your personality, your body. You. He was whipped, hooked on your love, and wanted nothing more than you make you his every day, at every hour, and every moment he could.

He’s addicted.

“Don’t worry, Peach, I got you.” His deep voice swoons you as his large fingers curl into the fabric of your clothing, promptly pulling and tuging until the material falls off your body. Your wet skin scratched against the floor but you couldn't care less at that moment, all you cared about was Steve's cock deep inside you. His fingers danced around your clit, feeling your slick already soaking your cunt and thighs from the earlier make-out session.

“I can’t wait just…please…” You were growing impatient, and the way you were laying down was starting to make your body ache. So without another moment, Steve pulled down his pants, letting his cock spring free. He was about to lift your legs when you pushed on his chest slightly, making him sit down so his back would lean against the car seat. He was confused at your sudden boldness, Never have you ridden him before so this was new. But he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen.

You, naked and soaked. Hair messy and making up running. All the while, you were crawling to take a seat on his lap. He must have died and went to heaven. Your legs sat on either side of his thick thighs. Your eyes never leaving his as you reach down for his cock, stroking the shaft in a harsh couple of pumps. His groans went straight to your core, feeling pride pool in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna ride me, baby?” He growls, gripping your hips, tugging you towards him in one movement. You just giggled at his dirty words, feeling his tip slide along your slit. Your smile quickly turned down, while your brows crossed, notioning his cock to easily slip inside you. “That’s it Peach. Take what’s yours.”

You quickly ground yourself, moving your hips at a steady pace. Back and forward. Up and down. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your breast against his chest. His pants grew heavier as your moans grew louder. You were both desperate, lost in one another to the point neither of you cared that the door of the boot was still wide open. Thank god Steve picked a secluded place.

“Stevie please….nghh.” Your slurred moans called for Steve, making him wrap his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face out of the crook of his. You were drooling, with the most beautiful fucked out expression Steve could have ever seen. Fuck, he wanted to bust a nut then and there from your face alone. He knew you were close to cumming and he wanted, no, needed you to cum before him. He needed to feel your clench around him while your juices painted his cock. So he planted his feet down, bringing his knees up before helping you thrust deep, hard and fast inside you.

Your body falls limp as he lets go of your neck so he can grip your hips with power. You called his name over and over like a broken record, clenching around him harshly as you came undone. His movements didn't faltered though, as he chased his own high. And after a couple more thrusts he felt himself snap, spilling his cum deep inside your soaked puffy pussy.

His thrusts became sloppy until they stopped altogether. He could feel your heartbeat racing against his chest while your breathing matched his. You stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence as Steve rubbed shapes into your lower back lovingly. You opened your eyes for a moment and noticed the rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine through the gloomy clouds. A smile caught your features at you thought, Maybe today didn’t go completely as planned, but it still was a great day nonetheless.

523 notes · View notes

carolmunson · 9 months

Text

agitated from the shadows, can i take it all back? (older!modern!eddie)

part seven of however many. orange colored sky set list summary: things simmer in the summer, and as it comes closer to a close, whatever is lying beneath comes to the surface. and it's more than eddie bargained for.

tw: 18+ minors dni. this series is about an age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s/early 30s, eddie is in late 30s early 40s. they're around 12 years apart), arguing/yelling, references to drug use, references to smut, references to domestic violence. songspiration: episode | gallant (this is one of my favorite songs of all time so i recommend listening)

Eddie was always a little sad when Steve left after visiting, but his heart was beating fast in his chest when he hugged him goodbye. Getting Harrington's seal of approval was all he needed to hear. "Keep her around Munson. She's special, you're not gonna top her." "Oh Steve, my guy..." "I'm topping her all the time."

He couln't help the swell in his chest when you both first met, like you'd known each other for years without trying. He even got a little jealous when the night's you'd stayed over, Steve would spend his time deep in conversation with you. You'd trudge upstairs long after Ed had gone to sleep, learning more about him through Steve than he'd told you himself. You guess Steve would know better than anyone else.

You tried to make yourself scarce though, leaving them to their own devices. You knew they had traditions and plans, they spent a couple days out in the Hamptons to say high to another friend. And that was fine, you had other things to catch up on. Work, bills, the world around you that wasn't in a haze of Eddie Munson. You had to cancel a night to see him play at Rockwood Music Hall with Steve when you were too hung over from a birthday party. You hadn't seen that group of friends since college -- it would be stupid to sit at home just because the guy you were seeing was busy. He wasn't even your boyfriend. After a fortnight of semi seeing each other for finally had a night alone. He treated you to drinks at a bar between your respective places. The night was humid, air thick while you both sat otuside sipping your final glasses of wine and stealing bites off each other's plates. You decide to walk back to his place, following the walkway next to the bypass through central Brooklyn. You split a cigarette, talking about the rest of his trip -- you talk about work and the dramatic break up of two of your friends. He lives for the gossip.

He lights another cigarette while you both turn down the top of the street from the parkway. Right at the rotary where you both got caught in the rain on your first date. The street is pretty bare outside of a few cars coming down and around, families normally don't like to hang out too late. All the restauarants were closed for the night. The orangey streetlights glow over the sidewalk, competing with the lighting from the grocery store's red and blue signage, the neons from darkened bakeries and bars. You peer into the windows of apartments that are too high above you for anything discernable outside of a plant or nice light fixture.

"Oh," he starts, letting the smoke out from his first drag, "How was your friend's party? All I heard about was your hang over."

You smile to yourself, "It was fun, got a little too fucked up -- which you heard all about -- but I had a good time. Probably shouldn't have gotten so drunk and then tried coke for funsies -- that was a choice."

"Hm?" he asks, his brows raise while his head turns towards you fast, "What was that?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Yeah, I tried coke," your voice is casual when you tell him, like it's not a big deal. You shrug and your nose scrunches, "Probably don't see myself doing it again though."

"Probably don't?" he asks, nodding slowly while you both make your way further down the street to his apartment. He pulls another drag, letting the smoke out before tucking his lips into his teeth.

"Yeah I just -- I dunno," you shrug, "Didn't really love it. It was whatever."

"Y'shouldn't be doin' that shit, peach," he mumbles, "'Specially if I'm not around."

Your brows quirk when he flicks the finished cigarette into the street, "Excuse me?"

"Just..." he sighs, eyes rolling while he considers whether it's worth the fight, "Forget it. S'fine." You're both silent while you make it up the stairs to his apartment, he seems unenthusiastic about you being here this time around. Deflated. You both kick off your shoes at the doorway before heading inside, putting your bag on the entry way table behind the bowl where he puts his keys and wallet. He pulls off his shirt while making his way to the metal spiral staircase, not even tossing you a glance while he heads upstairs. "You comin' back down?" you ask, wondering if you should follow. "Mhm," he nods, "Just changin', gonna shower."

"Can I..." but you trail off, not wanting to invite yourself -- uncomfortable in the silence. In the way he doesn't look at you, in the way he feels far away. The sound of the bathroom door closing puts a weight in your belly, your heart thrums, heat rises on the back of your neck. You settle in on the couch, the steady hum from the central air makes your eyelids heavy -- it was already a late night. You scroll on your phone, listening while the water hits the shower floor up stairs, wishing he'd invited you up. You feel sticky from the heat outside, from the bar air, from the beer someone spilled on your legs. Maybe you should just go. He appears at the top of the stairs when you open the Uber app, clearing his throat to get your attention. He's there in his sweats again, shirtless, tattoos shining under a layer of lotion rubbed into his skin. He tied his hair up, curly wet bun sloppily piled on top of his head, bangs fuzzily drying over his forehead.

"You can hop in if you want," he says, making his way down, "I left a towel by the sink for you. I um, I got that facewash you like -- that one you told me about. It's in the shower already, next to your loofah."

"Oh," your heart flutters a little, voice still meek and quiet. He still doesn't look at you. You exit the app, clicking your phone to sleep before standing up to make it to the stairs, "Thanks...thank you." He shrugs his shoulders when he looks over at you as if to say 'don't mention it'. He barely looks at you when you head up stairs, busying himself by filling up a silver REI canteen by the sink.

He did leave a towel, as well as a change of clothes. At least you knew he wanted you to spend the night. It's not like he'd let you leave the house this late anyway, you roll your eyes at yourself when you think about booking an Uber moments before.

You take your time, letting the hot water pour over you and calm your tense shoulders. Washing away the stickiness in your chest and on your skin. You scrub your face of any remaining makeup that had melted off on the walk home -- happy to not be using whatever random cleanser he got, trying to pretend he knew anything about skin care before you came along.

Some time had passed by the time you finished, padding down the stairs to see he’d pulled on a shirt. His hair hung in frizzy curls down to his collarbone again, drops of water during the worn black fabric blacker. He’s still in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher with tight shoulders and furrowed brows like he’s thinking about something. “Thanks for the jammies,” you chirp, sitting at the island on your designated barstool. “Yup,” he says, not turning to see you – very interested in the glassware he’s holding instead. Your shoulders droop with how curt he’s being, not used to this sort of standoffish attitude. He didn’t even get this miffed when you shrugged off his suggestion to watch Lord of the Rings and sided with Steve to watch Almost Famous. You hadn’t seen it in years.

“You okay?” you ask, his shoulders tense. “Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he says, but he shuts the dishwasher a little too hard for that to be true.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is this about the party?”

“I said I’m fine, peach,” he repeats.

“I mean, it’s just a party Ed, it’s like – people go to parties –”

“I said I’m fine.” He looks at you for the first time since you got in the house. It’s pointed, accusatory, and as much as you wish it didn’t, you immediately get defensive.

“Wait -– ” you let out a bitter laugh, “Are you mad about the coke? Seriously?”

“Drop it,” he says lowly, “Let’s not –”

“Are you seriously upset because I did coke at a party and you weren’t there?” you’re incredulous, “You? Eddie ‘Can’t Remember Berlin’ Munson?”

“Stop, just forget it–”

“No, let’s not stop – let’s not drop it. What’s your problem with me going out and enjoying myself? You mad I’m having fun without you?” “It’s not about you going out and enjoying yourself. That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it? What is it about me going to that party that’s got you so pissed off?” "'Cause I don't like that -- I don't like hearing that you're out getting sloppy at parties. I don't like hearing that you're trying new shit just for fun when you're by yourself," his gaze is hard while he leans over the island, chain dangling down from his neck. "I'm not by myself, I'm with my friends," you argue back, "Jesus Christ, Ed, I'm almost thirty years old."

"Coulda fuckin' fooled me," he snaps.

"Oh I forgot, you know everything. You've been there, done that. You know so much better than me, don't you?" your sarcasm makes him bite his tongue, anger teasing down his back in a blaze. Eddie hates that he has a short fuse -- he doesn't want to have one with you.

"Who'd you even get it from?" he asks, "Did you know 'em? Did you know if it was clean? Did they test it?" "Do you always know where your drugs are coming from?" you counter back. "Yeah, peach," he says with a nod, "I fucking do. I always know. God, it's like you think you're fuckin' invincible or some shit. I swear --" "I know who I got it from, it was clean -- the guy's loaded," you explain, face hot with frustration, "Can't imagine he's out there passing out fake stuff." The guy's loaded. So it was a guy -- Ed feels sick in a way that he hasn't in years. What was some guy doing telling you to try his shit? How drunk were you? Did you think he was cute? Rich guy? Did he try to pull one over on you? "How much did you pay for it?" he asks, crossing his arms. "What?"

"I wanna know if this guy scammed you, how much did you pay?"

"I didn't," you shrug. Eddie gets quiet, jaw clenching when you mention you got drugs on the house. He only knows one way that that's possible and it makes a rage in him bubble that he tries so hard to contain. His tongue runs over his teeth, trying to choose his words carefully. "You didn't pay for it?" he asks, the question clipped and tight. "No," you shrug innocently. "Did you fuck 'im?" "Wh-what?" the question punches out of you in shock. Why would he ever ask that? Why would he ever assume that? "You heard what I said," he bites, "Did. You. Fuck. Him?"

"No, I didn't fuck him," you hiss back angrily, "Why would you ever ask me that?"

"Can't think of another way to get drugs for free," he challenges back, "Did'ja suck him off? You're always tellin' me how good you are at it -- did you give him a fuckin' show?"

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" you get up off the barstool, posture matching his with your arms crossed tight around your chest.

"I'm just asking you a question," he repeats, his shoulders raising up and down in big breaths. "And I answered -- I didn't fuck him for free drugs," your head ticks to the side, "Sorry, not all of us have read the Eddie Munson doctrine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that I didn't do what you would've done." Your smart smirk when you finish your sentence makes him dig his nails into his biceps, a reminder to keep his hands to himself -- to calm down. This isn't about the drugs or the guy that gave them to you -- but he doesn't like that this is how you see him. Someone whose reckless and careless, someone who uses people to get what he wants. "Who do you think you are?" he snaps, "Huh? You don't know what you're talking about."

"If the first thing you think when I say I got drugs for free is that I fucked for them, then it's pretty clear that's how you go about your own business. How many people have you fucked for drugs?" you ask, "Actually, a better question would probably be how many people have fucked you for them?" "You told me you used to deal -- so c'mon loverboy, how many women did you have fuck you for drugs? If that's how to do it." Eddie shakes his head, eyes shut and jaw tense, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, "I never had anyone fuck me for drugs."

"So why would I have done it? Why do you always assume I'm doing something wrong? Why do you always expect me to act like I know what you know all the time? And better yet -- why does it even FUCKING matter?!" your voice grows higher and louder with each question, watching him get more and more frustrated while you continue, "Why does it even matter when you don't commit anyway? Maybe you're fucking around!" "I'm not -- ugh -- I'm not fucking around, peach!" he snaps back, chucking his water bottle hard into the sink with a loud clang. "Nice, Ed," you nod, arms crossing tighter around you, "Real nice -- what, you gonna hit me? That what's next on your list? Really put me in my place? Sounds so fucking familiar, I wonder where I heard it bef--" "SHUT UP." His voice booms through the kitchen, making you flinch. "Don't you EVER say that shit to me," he bellows, finger pointing directly in your face from across the island, "Don't you EVER make that comparison." You stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheek while he yells. "Do you feel better?!" he asks, voice hoarse and deep, graveled with anger, "Do you feel better now, peach?! Did that help?! Do you feel fuckin' validated?" He watches you shake your head no, tears starting to pool in your eyes. They look up at him, glassy and wet, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. He takes a deep breath, chest sinking when he sees the way you look at him -- silenced and quiet now, because he scared you. Because he's scary -- and that's why he shouldn't be with anyone, that's why it's too much to feel this way about someone. You wipe at your cheeks when the tears spill out, a few whimpers coming from you when you start to cry from how he yelled. From how you don't really know what you're both fighting about, but you both really know and it's terrifying. "Don't -- no baby, I'm sorry, don't cry," he says, his own breath shuddering, "I didn't mean to yell, I'm sorry. I won't -- I won't ever raise my voice at you like that." He rounds the corner of the island, coming to meet you on the other side with extended arms. His hands find their way to your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears gathering at your lash line, "I'm so sorry, I won't ever yell like that again. I promise. I -- I'm -- there's no excuse for that." He leans forward to leave a soft kiss on your forehead and the tip of your nose, "I'm sorry."

"That's - sniffle - not what I need you t-to be sorry f-for," you stutter out. He frowns back at you and nods. "I -- peach I just get worried, that's all," he confesses, "I don't really think you went and slept with that guy I just --"

He swallows, thinking about the words he wants to say. His hands drop from your cheeks to pull you in to him. He settles on the barstool, pulling you close to stand between his legs like he has before. "I don't wanna not hear from you for a week only to like, get a text or call from your sister that something bad happened," he says, his dark brown eyes getting as glassy as yours the more he thinks about it. "I know you're an adult, I know you can take care of yourself and that you're safe," he assures, "I promise, I know. I'm just scared." "What're you scared of?" you ask. "Losin' you," he shrugs, "To y'know, addiction or whatever -- or worse. I don't wanna lose you -- I really like having you around. Your -- you've added so much to my life in such a short period of time and I -- I don't know, peach. I think since Steve's wife I just -- It's something I think about." "You being scared doesn't give you the right to accuse me of sleeping around," your face hasn't softened at his explanation, not letting him get away with being an asshole. He likes that about you -- you don't take his shit, "It doesn't give you the right to talk down to me like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

"I know," he nods, "That was unfair." "I think you're just trying to find reasons to make me seem not worth it," you let out without waiver, "Even if you have to make them up."

"No," his brows furrow, "No, you're so worth it. Why would you say that?" "You were so quick to accuse me of some wild shit," you scoff, "It's like you're trying to fight with yourself about it. About how you feel and like -- maybe that lady from the bar a while ago was right. Maybe I have been just for fun for you. You got to play house with me, you got to see what a relationship is like for fun and now you can ruin it cause you're over it. Or you're bored." "No -- " he starts, heart thrumming in his chest, throat getting tight, "Peach that's not it at al--" "It seems like it --" "Did you not just hear what I said about losing y--" "I don't wanna hear it, it's just bullsh--" "Baby, I'm trying to be honest with y--" "This is starting to feel like a shitty game that you're trying t--" "I love you." You stop talking at the slight raise in his voice, the weight of the sentence hanging over the both of you in the kitchen. "God peach, I -- I fucking love you. I'm in love with you," he breathes, like he's fully realizing it for himself, too, "I...shit, I think about you all the time. I go to sleep excited cause I know m'gonna see you the next day I...Jesus babe, I -- I love you." Your lower lip wobbles again, "Yeah?" "Yeah," he nods, sighing weakly, "I knew when we got you your glasses. I knew -- I think I knew from the start. And I'm scared cause I -- I don't love people like this a lot." "Just Steve," you sniffle with a watery laugh. He lets out a chuckle, reaching out to pull you close to him by the waist. "Steve's different," he shrugs, "M'never gonna love anyone like Steve."

"I'm sorry for what I said," he reaches up again, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, "I'm sorry for yelling." "I'm sorry, too," you match him, hand reaching up to run your fingers through his bangs, pushing them away from his forehead to kiss it. His eyes shut closed at the soft touch, feeling you step close to him while his face rests on your chest. "I..that was fucked up of me to bring up your dad," you shake your head, "I was just angry I -- I'm so sorry." "It's okay," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. He rests his chin on your breasts, looking up at you, "I -- I've done a lot of work to not end up like him. Sometimes it still gets the better of me." "But I need you to know something," his face is soft but serious, "I will never put my hands on you, ever." "Okay," you nod, giving him another kiss on the bridge of his nose. "Only if you ask," he smirks, "Only if you want me to. If we're doing that." You both giggle in that way that couples do when they're being gross, holding each other on the barstool. Silence carries over you when the giggle runs out, both of you exhausted from the night -- from fighting. "I love you, too," you whisper down to him. "Thank god, cause I was really nervous that I just sort of let it all out there for nothing," he whispers back. He stands up, still wrapped up in you, offering you gentle kisses. He holds you there for a minute, you hold each other -- he realizes how tender he is with you. How you pull all of this tenderness out of him. "You're my girl, right?" he asks into the top of your head. You nod into his chest, his hand reaching up to caress over your hair. "Are you mine?" you ask into his shirt. "Yeah," he smirks into a low laugh, "Yeah, I'm your girl." "Can we go to bed?" sleepiness coats the question, a neediness lacing your voice. "Mhm." He leads you up the stairs, calling to his Google home to turn the lights off when you both make it to the top. He got a new candle for his room, something with oud in it. Woody, deep, musky. Ahead of the season. You slip into bed at the same time, leaving your phone on the side table while he slips his glasses on to check something on his. You watch him with his bedside lamp illuminating him from behind. It catches on the frizz in his wavy curls, tied up in ponytail. It bleeds over the slop of his nose and the whites of his eyes. He catches you when he puts his phone to the side, smiling. "What're you lookin' at?" he asks, slipping his glasses off and click out the light. "You just look handsome," you shrug. He murmurs a thank you before dipping down to kiss you when he slides under the covers. For the first time in forever he doesn't want to have sex after a fight -- it almost feels cheap. Like it's a cover -- like he's not really sorry, like he didn't mean all the things he said. "Night, pretty." He pulls you into him when you settle in, your back pressed up against his chest, "I love you." "I love you," you say back, eyes closed, encased in his arms. He's never held someone so tight to him. Not since Chicago.

prev | next

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfic

642 notes · View notes

hopelessromantic5 · 2 months

Text

Arthur isn’t exactly stealthy when he sees something he likes.

Those who had known Arthur for most of his life also know that when something captures his attention, that’s it.

It takes over everything.

First, at five, it was horse back riding. He would spend all day in the stables, learning everything he could about the majestic beasts. He would ride as often as his father allowed.

Then when he joined the official knights in training at eight summers, he became thirsty for success. He wanted to be the best, unbeatable.

And so, he was. He became a well sharpened blade neatly tucked into his father’s arsenal.

Nothing came close to his love for a sword until he was thirteen, and he met a girl named Druella. Dru was the younger sister of one of Arthur’s fellow knights, yet still a few years ahead of him.

He would watch her walk to and from town, every day, thinking how beautiful she looked in her finery, how her hair was always perfect, never one out of place.

This love lasted the least amount of time, because while Arthur claimed to himself that he loved her, he’d never actually spoken to her.

When he finally got up the nerve to introduce himself, and she did nothing but sneer at him and walk away, he finally let his silly little crush rest in the dirt under his riding boots.

Years went by. The citizens of Camelot and especially the staff of the castle, continued to watch Arthur grow and mature and come into his own thoughts. His own beliefs.

Still, dancing with his sword held the biggest place in his heart.

That was until a fateful day in beautiful spring time.

There were some familiar faces in the square that day, watching on as a boy intervened with the Prince’s ridiculous bullying.

First, they were thankful for it.

And then they all witnessed the moment Prince Arthur laid eyes on this boy, and that was it.

They’d seen it before, and this was no different.

Arthur Pendragon had found a new obsession.

Uther didn’t know what he was signing the entire kingdom up for when he bestowed Merlin with such a privilege as being the prince’s manservant. He probably thought nothing on it, as often as Arthur fired manservants, surely this one will be gone faster than the others.

Boy, was he mistaken.

Arthur lied to himself about it for some time. Acting as if his servant was the worst he’d ever seen, or how he hated to have to show this boy how to do something simple.

What betrayed him were his eyes, they followed Merlin everywhere in the room. Watching him do every task, standing to aid when it was needed, even if it came with a huff of exasperation for show.

Everyone could see it. Hell, even Leon caught onto it. The only people who had yet to realize were the prince himself, and the boy. Merlin. He was as oblivious to Arthur’s eyes as Arthur was to Merlin’s sickeningly sweet face when the prince’s back was turned.

Merlin was usually very observant.

But when it came to Arthur, he had a blind spot.

Perhaps this is why Arthur found out the big secret a few weeks after Merlin arrived in Camelot.

He’d made a habit of entering his room quietly, so he might see Merlin without being seen himself. Though, Arthur doesn’t acknowledge that’s the reason, it definitely is.

This particular day, practice ended early on account of the storm rolling in. Tiny drops of water were already covering the ground, packing the dirt into stone.

As he silently entered his own chambers, he heard humming. Knowing it must be Merlin. Who else would be in his room humming?

The Prince stayed partially hidden by the chest of drawers nearest the door. Merlin was putting tunics away in the cupboard. His hands were gentle with them, like they were precious. Even if he did it in a bit of a hurry, seemingly.

Merlin must’ve felt a draft or remembered the rain, because he stopped his humming turning to the fire place, and without lifting a single finger or uttering a word, he lights the fire.

By looking at it.

Arthur first thought his sight deceived him but there was no denying that he’d just seen Merlin’s eyes turn gold. A blinding golden light that can only come from something divine.

The Prince tries to even out his breathing so as not to give away his presence. It’s not that he’s fearful, merely caught off guard, which he tried never to be. Arthur was almost a grown man, and he’d met people in his time that told him he could be different than Uther. He could rule a different Kingdom.

And maybe that all starts with this strange boy that fell from the sky into Arthur’s world.

The Prince had hardly seen Merlin do anything with that kind of skill or confidence. Arthur had been around enough dark sorcerers to know that even the powerful ones need words, crystals, a big book with lots of words he can’t read.

Merlin had done this like it was nothing.

Just how powerful was he?

#merthur #merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur fic #arthur pendragon #obsessive Arthur #oblivious Merlin #from the drafts

218 notes · View notes

yorshie · 6 months

Note

Hii, I just Saw that your request are open and I couldn't help myself because i just love your work so much, especially "Pick Up the phone", i just want to know more! Could you do after the incident how the relationship grew and if the turtles ended up together with her??

hmmmm...listen. I knew exactly where Pick Up The Phone was going eventually when I wrote it, I just got a wee bit distracted writing other things. I guess it's about time I completed the story, I'm just really sorry because I'm sure you weren't thinking there'd be this much angst in it. Thank you for requesting this, hope you like it enough to wait til the third part before you write off the story as just sad.

PICK UP THE SLACK

Bayverse TMNT x Fem Reader Part One

Length: 5.7k

Summary/warnings: SFW, reader deals with the fallout of witnessing the turtles commit violence on her behalf. Warnings include: angst, trauma and coping with that trauma, panic attacks, complicated relationships, and, because when I wrote the first part the relationship was a bit vague, we're going with turtles have caught Feelings but reader isn't aware. Set in 2023 - turtles are 24-25

Tag list: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou @spooneyes

[Hey Angel! Would you like to come hang out for a little bit? I’m grabbing some noodles and Leo’s pulled out some of his old tapes?]

You stared at the text, thumb hovering over the keyboard, torn between answering- even if it was just a few words- and not responding at all.

Outside your apartment, an early summer storm curled its way in-between the buildings, fog pressing up against the window like a hand pressing its palm flat against the glass. While it wasn’t raining yet, the way your soft hair clung to your sweater said it would soon.

Your arm itched in it’s colorful cast, and your phone screen dimmed from inactivity, pulling your attention back to the problem at hand. You sighed, set the little device to the side before curling in on yourself and scrubbing your free hand over you face.

You didn’t mean to avoid the turtles. It just sort of happened… before you realized it was happening.

Memories of that night were a little hazy, a little blurry when you tried to focus on them. You remember Donnie and Leo dropping you off at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, Donnie clipping something to the back of your ear to help them keep track of you before Leo nudged you towards the emergency room doors.

You remember the nurses fussing over you, asking questions. You gave them the answers Donnie whispered to you over the little comm, too tired and out of it to keep anything straight. You were barely aware of the way people danced around you, the pointed questions, too preoccupied with the burn in your arm and the fog in your head to worry about what anyone else thought.

They tried to get you to talk to a social worker when you doggedly reiterated your story over and over. When you refused, the nurses traded looks, and it bothered you more that they thought you weren’t aware enough to clock the silent messages than their obvious conclusion to your injuries.

Finally, after hours of dancing around, they confirmed that your arm was broken, but the break was clean and not all the way through, the doctor coming in to set the cast correctly before leaving you to the nurses once more.

They tried to keep you overnight for observation. When you refused that as well, they slapped a prescription in your hands to help with the pain and you were finally free, too far gone to worry about a tail following you out despite Donnie whispering in your ear.

You left by the front door, not really sure but walking on autopilot, unaware you were moving away from your watching protectors. Leo had scooped you up at the first alleyway you’d crossed, gaze curious. You knew he wanted to ask what was wrong, but you didn’t have an answer to give him. Not one that you could articulate, anyway.

The trip back to your apartment was a blur, but you remember distinctly standing in the middle of your living room, aware that someone had been in your space recently. Things had been moved. It wasn’t quite a good feeling, but you were too spaced to do more than blink and watch silently as Leo brushed past you and headed for your bathroom. He returned with a small bag of toiletries, and you hadn’t had the clarity to wonder how he knew what to grab.

“Why?” You’d asked, and maybe you’d tried to get out more words, but your throat was still so tight, the rest of the sentence trailing off into a slurred hum that had Donnie reaching for your arm.

“Raph forgot your toothbrush. “Leo said like it was common sense, tone gentle despite his tilted head, and you blinked again, an errant, floating thought wondering why Raph was even here in the first place.

Without thinking, you had looked around at your little space again. You swayed, silent, until you clocked movement in the corner of your vision and you realized both turtles were watching you worriedly.

“I want… to stay here.” You slurred out, pressing a hand up to your eye to keep your brain in place.

“You have a concussion.” Donnie interjected softly, practical and no nonsense. His hand slid up your arm to palm the side of your face, to cover your hand. “It’s really not a good idea for you to be alone right now.”

“But…” You tried to tilt your head up to look at him, failing somewhere around his shoulders.

“No buts,” Leo said, and you realized you had trailed off mid-thought. “You’re going to the Lair where we can watch over you. I don’t like how fast you’re deteriorating.”

You didn’t want to- might have even opened your mouth to slur out a weak protest, but Donnie was already hoisting you up, curling his lean arms around your torso and legs to keep you close against him as he followed Leo back out the window.

You had conceded to staying the night in the Lair, let the four turtles take turns making sure you were alright, suffered through the wake up checks before being lulled back to sleep against one of them while the tv played softly in the background, low enough that the sound garbled everything around you.

You weren’t exactly sure who was who, but you knew you woke up to each of them at least one, vibrant eyes staring into your own and fingers smoothing over the angles of your cheekbones, too close and too personal. You weren’t sure if it was your skin or theirs that felt feverish. Weren’t sure if it was your dreams or them that kept you jolting awake, crying and sweaty, but you were always aware of how strong their hands held you, how alien the rumble in their chests sounded, and the inky darkness always pressing at the edge of your vision.

In the morning you had bullied Mikey into taking you home, claiming the need of showering in your own space. He had conceded after you had threatened walking, sweet face falling into sadness when he had waffled and you had started outright bawling at the overwhelmed feeling gripping your chest.

Mikey had dropped you off at your apartment, and you had locked the window, turned off your phone, and bawled in the shower for an hour straight.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, the weather was turning, the first pings of rain occasionally hitting your window, and- and your phone was vibrating on the couch seat next to you.

“Please.” You whispered into your hands, before unfurling and letting your head rest against the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling. “Please, stop checking in on me.”

The phone stopped buzzing as if it heard your plea, and you had a moment of blissful numbness, your eyes sliding to half mast as you stared at the opposite wall.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why your thoughts moved so slow, so tepid. You didn’t understand why you were avoiding the turtles, your friends, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were scared and tired of the way your hands shook, of the way you kept looking around for the next thing coming. It had to stop.

All at once, you felt that awful ball of emotion in your chest again. The one that hadn’t fully disappeared since you had broken down in the harsh light of Donnie’s medical room, when the turtles had held your breaking pieces together. The seesaw of emotions teetered violently under your skin.

You needed to be held together.

Your phone started buzzing again, and this time your palm landed down on it with an audible smack, hand curling around to answer before you could think about the consequences.

“Mikey?” You rasped into the speaker, not quite sure what exactly you were asking but hoping he’d have an answer.

“Um… no. It’s me.” Came Leo’s apologetic tone, and you winced hard, but before you could apologize he was barreling onwards, “I can- I can get Mike for you-”

“Leo.” You wanted to shout his name, but it came out quiet. He stopped though, mid sentence, silent as he waited.

“I’m sorry.” You finally choked out. “I saw Mikey’s message, thought it was him calling.”

“Ah.” Leo breathed into the phone, and your lips almost twitched, the sound familiar despite all the times you’d tried to teach him how to angle his phone so the air wouldn’t whistle. “That’s… why I’m calling, actually? We thought maybe you hadn’t seen it.”

“I saw.” You were quiet for another minute, your mouth opening and closing several times, trying to get the words you wanted to come out but they stayed lodged in the back of your throat, tasting more awful with every passing second.

Leo was patiently quiet through it all, though you know he must have heard you lick your lips and your breath stutter each time you tried to start. Finally though, just as you were on the brink of whining at whatever it was you were failing to articulate, he spoke, his words a low rumble that rubbed against your ears.

“I wish you were here.” He said, and it unfurled something tight in your chest. “We miss you.”

And just like that, whatever was in your throat came out like a sob, and you pressed your arm across your eyes and leaned forward, emotion running from your throat to your chest in a heady rush until you couldn’t tell if it was elation or a sharp stab.

“I miss you guys too.” You got it out, somehow, too raw to know if you were telling the truth, but it was ripped out of you.

Leo made that low noise that you had only heard a handful of times before, where he was concerned but stuck, and the sound had you hiccuping at the knowledge that with this he couldn’t just pick you up and run from the danger.

“Can… can you come get me?” You started, stopped, powered through, and he answered too quickly, like he had been waiting for those words to leave your mouth.

“Raph’s on his way.” His tongue clicked, voice disappearing for a moment in what you assumed was his head pulling away to check on something. “Should- he should be there any minute.”

There was the heady rush of elation, the swoop at the top of the roller coaster you were waiting on. It felt a lot like falling though. You dug your nails deeply into your leg to stay focused.

“Stay on the phone?” With me, but it felt a little too much like an admission to breathe it out, but he didn’t hesitate in his answer.

“Of course.”

You breathed out low, letting the soft sounds from his side of the phone lull you back into a sort of calm numbness. You weren’t sure if a minute passed, or ten, but all too soon there was a tap at your window and you startled.

Leo must have heard the way your breath hitched. “Raph?”

“Y-yeah,” you pressed your palm into you eye, trying to steady yourself. “Guess… I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, yeah. You will.” He promised, stubborn enough to make you be the one to hang up.

You don’ think Leo warned his brother, because when you drew back the curtain to unlock the window, you could feel Raph burning a stare into the side of your head despite the way you kept your eyes stubbornly on the tricky task of unlocking the latch one handed.

He took over the job as soon as you lifted it enough for him to wedge his fingers under the pane. The window rattled a bit when he shoved it upwards with a grunt, and you flinched at the sound, before cutting off all movement at the feel of a heavy hand settling on the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart?” He asked, thumb moving across skin made sensitive from you scrubbing at it. “Who- whose ass am I-”

“It’s nothing.” You whispered up at him, ducking away from his hand before chasing it with your own on instinct. You shivered at the way his hand swallowed yours whole and had grip left over for your wrist. “Just… feeling a bit-”

He pulled you closer, and you heard the sound you had gotten acquainted with the night they had watched over you, that rumble deep under his plastron that lingered at the edge of your auditory range. “Are you ok?”

No. “Yes.” Your eyes burned at the outright lie, and he leveled a shoulder against the edge of your window, raised his other hand to slide a knuckle under your chin. “Not… really.”

You whispered the confession with eyes fixed just over his shoulder, and he tilted his head until all you could see was the color of his bandana. “Talked to… Leo, about it… a bit. Just- well.” You brought up your free hand to press at your forehead, and the hand under your chin slid away. “Not really sure what’s… going on. Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be sorry.” Raph assured you, tugging your other hand down when you started scrubbing at your face again, grip gentle on your cast. “As long as no one needs a lesson on not messin’ with ya.”

You shivered at the reminder, and the feeling of his hands swallowing yours became just a little to visceral for a moment. When you tried to tug out of his grip, he let you, though his rough sigh showed his frustration at the action.

You turned your head to the side to avoid the feeling that sound pulled up. “Can we… just go to the Lair?”

“Gotta say somethin’, first.” Raph argued, and you sighed roughly, but nodded for him to continue.

The ledge under the window creaked as he leaned through it, and you felt his fingers whisper over the nape of your neck before he cupped it, finger nudging the far side of your jaw to convince you to look at him.

You did, slowly, hand coming to absently rub at the thin skin above your cast where it suddenly itched.

“The last thing I ever wanna do,” He spoke lowly, holding your gaze, “is hurt you, sweetheart. I need you to know that, ok?”

You stared into his green flecked eyes, the color starting to swim as you felt tears well up. You blinked hard, nodding when he made a questioning rumble, and didn’t stutter at the feel of his thumb wiping across your face.

“Good. S’long as you know that.” He blew out a breath. When you reopened your eyes, and gave you a small crooked smile that looked like a shadow of the one he normally threw your way. “You ready to get going?”

You nodded, voice still locked in your tight throat, and took his offered hand to help clamber over the sill, straddling the worn wood before he leveled his weight backwards and you had enough room to sling your good arm over his shoulders.

The rain was soft pricks of cold across the back of your neck, Raph’s shell icy where your arm was pressed against it. You had a moment to wonder if you should climb back inside for a coat, but Raph’s next words drowned out the thought.

“Hold on tight with that arm.” He warned, his own arm slotting under your thighs, hand curling around one knee while the other squeezed just under his shell. “Taking the fast route through the tunnels, so might be best to close your eyes, princess.”

You nodded into his neck, breathing out slow when he abruptly let go of the ledge and you both free fell through the fog.

Leo was the first one you saw when you and Raph entered the Lair through the turnstiles, arms crossed and swaying back and forth, eyes trained on the floor as he listened to Donnie speak. The purple turtle was leaning against the table, long legs crossed in front of him, gesturing with his hands as he made some point to the leader in blue.

“-perfectly normal to come away from that with trauma, we should have been on the look out for it.”

Leo made some low sound at that, shaking his head in denial. “You know for a fact this wasn’t suppose to happen, whether or not we were on the look out for-” He broke off when he caught sight of the two of you, straightening and going still, and the change in his stance was enough to have Donnie turning around to squint as well.

“Mother hens say ‘what’.” Raph groused, large hand only tightening around the bend of your knee when you tried to slide out of his grip. The added height meant you didn’t have to crane up to meet the other two’s gaze, and after a moment you leaned back against Raph’s covered shoulder, let his shoulder pad bite into the slope of your head as Leo moved to stand in front of the red turtle.

“Hey.” He said, gaze flicking to your arm before settling on your face. You could see Donnie’s lips compress out of the corner of your eye, feel the tendons in Raph’s neck flex as he no doubt rolled his eyes.

You gave Leo a tight lipped smile, knew from the way both his and Donnie’s eyes jumped around your face that it was still rubbed raw from crying and scratching at it. “I was told there would be old movies and noodles?”

Leo blew out a breath at your words, his shoulders sagging, but Donnie stepped forward, hands careful as he gestured towards your cast and ran his thumbs along your limb when you held it outwards.

“Any new pain?” He asked, and when you shook your head no he seemed pleased, one hand sliding to cup along the back of your shoulder. “Well that’s good. I’ve projected that you should only have six more weeks in the cast, but I’d still like to take a proper look sometime tonight.”

The thought of going back into the sterile medical room had you swallowing heavily, pulse jumping as nausea rose up to press at your throat. “I don’t- I don’t think-”

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.” Raph said from behind you, and your head dipped, pulling your arms back in to hold them tight against your sides. “Don doesn’t have’ta poke-”

You didn’t really hear what he was saying, mouth moving on autopilot, a small voice prompting you to explain instead of keeping everything wrong wedged up under your ribs. When you interrupted him, Raph’s jaw all but snapped shut.

“-I don’t… want to go in that room again.” You said, more to the hand still locked around your knee than anyone else.

Donnie’s thumb rubbed a soothing stroke across your shoulder, and you made yourself relax into the motion, finding it comfortable when the digit repeated the trek. “Alright, that’s perfectly fine.” He bobbed his head, glasses catching on the light. “As long as there’s nothing new, it should be fine.”

You nodded to show you understood, and Leo spoke up again. “Mikey’s still getting the food, but would you mind waiting on the couch while we do some last minute cleaning?”

You shook your head no, not missing the way glances were traded over your tendency to remain non-verbal.

“Ok, then. I’ll start one of those movies to keep you company until we’re done.” Leo murmured, then led the way into the living room area, bending to shuffle an old tape out of its cover and into the player. You were distracted from watching him when Raph finally released your knee and let you slip onto the blanket covered couch.

“Be right back.” He tapped the top of your head to make sure he had your attention. “Don’t go disappearin, kay?”

“Kay.” You made yourself say, just to break your silence. You were rewarded with a little quirk of his lips, and a searching look from Donnie before the three shuffled out of the room and left you with the tv turned down low.

The movie was about a blind samurai, you thought, the opening scene a little familiar. Leo must have shown it to you before, but the monotone coloring was soothing, the subtitles large, blocky and blurry before you closed your eyes and just listening to the way the voices ebbed and flowed, uncaring that you didn’t have any idea what they were saying.

It wasn’t… as difficult, now that you were here. As long as you didn’t go into the medical room. And it was good to see your friends again. Something tight slowly started to ease in your muscles. The Lair was always a safe space, had always been a place you looked forward to visiting when you were invited. You repeated the mantra as the music from the movie started to swell.

The skin above your cast itched again, and you snuck a finger into the space right at the edge, dragged a nail along the little area. A lull in the movie’s soundtrack, and you hummed, knowing a fight scene was coming up, before faint voices had your eyes cracking open.

You sat up slowly, turning just your head to better catch where the words were coming from.

That was Donnie’s voice, just out of sight, and a harsh answering whisper that sounded like Raph had you moving on autopilot, feet quiet as you slipped a little rounding the couch. The whispers led you to the edge of Donnie’s half dome of monitors, the voices tucked behind the half closed door that led deeper into the Lab space.

“-get your head out your shell and stop pushing.” It was a patient tone you had heard a couple of times, a patent Leo Lecture, as Mikey called them behind his brother’s back to make you and Donnie snort with laughter.

Raph’s voice was much rougher in answering, “‘M not pushin, Fearless. All I did was tell her I didn’t want to hurt her, that’s it.”

“That’s obviously enough to set her off, Raphael.” Leo's stern words were followed by the sound of a palm shoving a face, and you wondered who shoved who before Donnie’s words cut between the two, and in-between your ribs.

“None of us thought it would turn out like this, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we figure out what the problem is exactly. Obviously,” he lingered on the word, “she’s experiencing some fight or flight response concerning us, but it could be left over from the ‘experience’, not our feelings for-.”

“She doesn’t know anything about that.” Raph cut in. “Or it’s not what’s buggin’ her. Came right to me when I got there.”

Your heart stopped, then thundered over itself to make up the difference, and you swallowed hard enough to feel the pull in the tendons on either side of your throat protest.

“Whether or not she knows, it’s enough that she’s on edge.” Leo’s voice came out clipped, tight, and you took a little step to the side, fingers finding the edge of Donnie’s desk as you struggled to listen through deep breaths. “We had a plan. It was working.”

“If that fucker hadn’t needed a beatdown, we wouldn’t be back to square one, but it is what-”

A hand, palm cool and callused, skirted up your cast free arm, and you shrieked, jumping backwards, hitting Donnie’s desk and sending half the bobbits strew across the surface clattering into the floor.

You were crying before you even registered it was Mikey, the orange turtle cooing and apologetic as he tightened his grip on you and tried calming you down. “Hey, babes- baby, I’m so sorry, please-”

You were shoving at him, ineffectively, palms scraping across the buckles of his backpack, but the sound of the heavy door you’d been eavesdropping at opening violently had you babbling out your own apologies at the green blobs with splashes of color across their faces crowded around you. Your heart thundered in your chest, color high in your face and nose running like a leaky faucet as they tried again and again to get you to calm down.

When they realized you weren’t calming down, and your breathing was turning into high pitched wheezes as your throat closed up in panic, you found yourself picked up, carried through the Lair. You squawked in panic when you thought they were heading for the medical room before whoever was holding you split to the right and the bathroom door loomed up instead.

It wasn’t until you were plopped down in front of one of the personalized sinks that you realized Leo had apparently lost the battle with his ‘get you someplace safe’ instincts, but his distraction with checking you over allowed you to shove your cast into his beak and duck into one of the widened bathroom stalls, effectively putting a barrier up between you and the four turtles.

You slid the flimsy lock home, and braced your arm across the door, shivering and heaving for breath between sobs. The four turtles were murmuring to themselves, not being quiet at all but the roaring in your ears kept you from making out words. With a stilted heave that whistled through your closed throat, you banged your fist against the door, the action sending vibrations through your muscles and tethering you to the ground.

The outside door shut, and for a moment you thought you were alone, that they had left you to settle. The thought had you pressing your forehead against the inside of your elbow, a stifled sob hitching your shoulders.

“Babes?” Michelangelo asked, and every muscles in your body went taunt once more.

He was quiet, though you could hear the sound of his palm sliding across the closed door, before the heavy sigh of him sitting outside the stall had you peering down, just seeing the bottom of his shell tucked against the tile.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you.” He said plainly, and as if a rope was cut, you breathed shakily into your arm, pressing your open mouth hard against your skin. You sunk down slowly, knowing he could hear you moving, until you crouched just behind him. If not for the door, you’d be splayed against his shell.

“You mean so much to me.” He whispered. “Mean so much to us. I should have thought before I grabbed you like that.”

You leaned your head forward, until the edge of your brow gently pressed against the cold plastic. It took two tries, but you finally pulled your mouth back from your skin, licked your lips, and whispered. “I wasn’t- suppose to find out yet, was I?”

You hoped he wouldn’t try and turn the question on its head, knowing he knew what you were talking about. His hearing was better than yours. Still, he made some low, wounded sound at the way your voice rasped broken and raw over the words.

“It certainly wasn’t how I envisioned it.” He offered with self deprecating humor, and you blinked, thinking the tone didn’t suit him at all.

“Who- who else?” God, it hurt to talk. Your knee hit the tiled floor as you readjusted, and Mikey’s shell shifted on the other side of the thin barrier between the two of you.

“Um….” He trailed off, but you heard the silent all of us, thinking back to the way they’d held you together the night your arm, and heart, had broken.

“Oh- God.” You choked on the word, coughed and brought your arm back to your mouth to muffle the sound.

Mikey moved, and for one terrified moment you thought he was going to try breaking the lock, but his steps moved away. Water running in the sink, and then he returned, shoved a glass under the little opening below the door.

You didn’t thank him as he returned to his spot, reaching down slowly and grabbing the chilled glass.

He waited until he heard you take a few sips, before asking. “How’s your arm? You shoved it into Leo’s face pretty hard.”

“It hurts.” You breathed into the glass, aware you’d been holding the cast tight against your chest.

“I’m gonna go get Donnie.” Mikey’s hand appeared under the door, splayed against the tile as he pushed himself upright.

“Don’t-” You cut off, until his hand turned, brushed against your shoe. “-go.” You swallowed. “Please.”

“I won’t, babes,” he promised, “Just gonna go get Dee, ok?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and sat down heavily as you listened to him moving for the bathroom door.

It was… a lot, to take in. Too much to do so right now, with your arm burning and your mind swirling around like a shaken fishbowl. You wanted to bury it, until the realization felt a little more distant. A little more manageable. You couldn’t-

You brutally squashed that train of thought, sitting down heavily with only one arm to balance yourself with. You stretched one foot out first, then the other, sticking your sneakers out from under the partition and leaning forward to place your fevered, sticky cheek against the door again.

You must have spaced out, because the sound of Donnie’s knuckles rapping gently against the plastic had you startling, pulling your feet back against your chest and scooting to the corner.

“Dove?” He called, and you saw the shadow of his hand on the handle. “I’m going to open the door, ok?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, staring at your shoes as he opened the lock from the outside. The door squeaked when he cracked it open, and you looked up finally, meeting his hesitant smile from where he craned around the door.

“There you are. Are you ready to come out, now?”

You weren’t, but you still moved, letting him grip under your bicep and help you find your feet when you wobbled.

“Good, that’s good. Let’s sit on the edge of the tub.” He led you, and you felt more than saw Mikey hovering just out of your space, watching you with concerned eyes.

When you were finally sitting on the tiled edge of the basin they called a bath, Donnie felt you for a moment, and Mikey returned to sit next to you, just shy of touching.

“Heya, babes. You’re ok.” He gave you a tilted smile, a little watery, and you scrubbed at your cheek at the realization you probably looked like you had indeed been blubbering in a bathroom stall.

“Alrighty, then.” Donnie was back, and you tipped your head towards him without thinking. His hand came up to grip your chin, tightening when you tried to flinch away. “It’s just me, dove, relax just a little bit.”

The cloth he wiped over your face was warm and sudsy, and you closed your eyes on instinct, leaning into his touch as he wiped away the gunk and the tear stains. The soft, repetitive motions had you sighing unconsciously, shoulders slumping in relief when the cloth ran over clean skin.

Donnie traded the cloth for his thumbs, stooping to peer into your face as his wide digits scrubbed across your cheekbones. “There you go, that’s better, right?”

You nodded, feeling his knuckles hook around the edge of your jaw, before his snout swung to the side and he focused on your cast. “Can I take a look at that, now?”

You bit your lip, nodded again, free hand casting out to find Mikey’s arm and latch onto it when Donnie lowered his goggles and peered at your arm, hands softly probing at the ends of your cast.

Mikey captured your hand, let you squeeze his palm as Donnie worked. After a moment, his thumb came out to slide slowly over the back of your hand, and you looked up, caught on the baby blues that stared back.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Raph stuck his head in. “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“Fine, despite your lack of patience.” Donnie quipped without taking his eyes off his task, and the muscle in your cheek contracted at the heavy eye roll Raph gave his brother before his green eyes focused on you.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“…fine.” The word was scratchy, and you cleared your throat before trying again. “How’s… Leo?”

Raph gave you a smirk, “ah, he’ll live, he’s just getting some ice for it. Good shot, though.”

Donnie made some little noise at your side, pulling your attention back to him. “I don’t think there’s any new damage.” He gave you a soft smile. “Just don’t go shoving your arm into anyone else’s face, kay?”

You sighed, tried to pull your hand from Mikey’s grip, but he wouldn’t allow you to, slotting your fingers between his to maintain the grip. “How bout we go get those noodles before they get cold, babes? I got the spicy ones you like.”

Your stomach rebelled at just the mention of food, but there were sharp eyes on your face, taking notice of every twitch. “I think… maybe just the movie, Angelo.”

Mikey, bless him, looked happy you were just agreeing, tugged you to your feet and almost into Donatello before the taller turtle ducked seamlessly out of your space.

“Wait, wait-” your head heaved at the quick movements, and Mikey lurched to a stop, that concerned look back. “Just, slow, Mikey. Slow.”

You… weren’t just talking about heading to the living room area, and while it might have gone right over Mikey’s head, you saw the traded looks between the other two turtles, and it made you swallow heavily. No time for that now. The thought got sloshed back to the back of your head when Mikey’s free had touched your shoulder and led you backwards into the main room.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse fanfiction #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #trauma #trauma coping #tw trauma #tw trauma coping

267 notes · View notes

divine-misfortune · 2 months

Note

Swiss going up behind Rain, shoving his hands under his shirt and groping his cute tits and pinching his nipples.

Little warning for some gillplay at the end btw

Perky was the first word that came to mind when Rain found his way into the kitchen. The first place his brain went upon laying eyes on him.

Still endearingly disheveled from rolling out of bed, wild curls and all. Swiss tipped his head as he caught a glimpse of the sunflower pattern on the boxers sitting far too low on his hips even with the elastic band folded over itself twice. It seemed it was Mountain's bed he'd stumbled out of. Judging from the plum colored splotches on his collar to the vivid imprint of teeth, Swiss could only assume he'd had a very long and exhausting night with the big guy. Summer brought about a lot of those, earth ghoul heats were really no joke during the hotter months.

But what truly caught his attention was the tight, and not to mention thin tank top stretched over the little swell of Rain's chest. It had made Swiss set down his morning crossword, abandoning it the second something more interesting crossed his path. Those sweet little buds peeking against the fabric seemed to demand his attention, and Swiss wished he could call himself a better man but he was helpless to absolutely oggle over his tits. If anyone asked he'd blame it on Rain's natural draw, his undeniable siren nature, and definitely not his own weakness to every inch of the water ghoul.

He tapped the tip of his pencil against paper and sat back in his chair, licking over the back of his teeth as he watched a bleary eyed Rain move around the kitchen without ever moving the hair from his face. For a ghoul who couldn’t help but trip over himself at every opportunity, he somehow managed to move with an odd amount of grace in the most unremarkable of situations. Swiss was almost impressed.

Chair scraping against the tile Swiss got to his feet, using the excuse of returning an empty mug to the sink to simply exist in Rain's proximity.

He watched from the doorway as Rain leaned against the countertop, seemingly staring through the toaster as he leaned on his elbows with his tail waving lazily behind him. Swiss bit his lip as he ran his eyes over the back of him, the curve of his spine down to the swell of his ass - somehow still impressively plush despite the oversized boxers. He didn't make it as far as the sink, mug abandoned on an empty section of the counter in order to submit to the magnetic pull he felt towards him. It satiated a part of him to slip his arms around his waist.

Rain chirped curiously, startled slightly from his sleepy trance, but settled into him the second he registered the multi ghoul. Swiss kissed the bare skin of his shoulder with a tuneless hum, nose brushing against a particularly dark bruise.

He wondered just how long Mountain had spent with his mouth mapping out the well defined planes of Rain's body. He wondered if he'd gotten to taste every inch of him - Mountain was always overzealous with his teeth when he was in a rut, that much was obvious from the few dozen bite marks Swiss could see, he knew there were more hidden beneath the fabric. He wondered if Mountain had bitten for pain or pleasure, or even ownership.

Swiss took his hips in hand, thumbs wriggling underneath the hem of his shirt to rub against cool skin. He could almost imagine the way Mountain's big hands would have practically enveloped his waist, bet Mountain could've felt his own cock every time he bottomed out. Something knotted in his stomach, nearly groaning out loud at the thought alone.

He wondered...

The sound that choked itself from the water ghoul was uneven and breathy when he unceremoniously shoved both hands up under his tank top. Gills flaring in surprise as Swiss chuckled, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch the ribbed fabric stretch over the shape of his fingers kneading into his tits. They were small, mosquito bites in comparison to someone like Cumulus. Not enough fat to even fill his palms but he took them like a proper handful anyways.

"Pretty thing," he chuffed and thumbed over his pert little nipples. Rain tried not to whimper but a light pinch was enough to draw it out, the noise was more than reward for his bad behavior. "Prettiest fucking water lily."

"Fuck" Rain squirmed, hands floating awkwardly like he might just grab Swiss to stop him but made no real move to. "Fuck, fuck not so hard - !"

"They sensitive baby?" His voice lilted and Rain shook his head quickly, dark curls brushing over Swiss' cheek. He tugged lightly at the silver bars threaded through his nipples and felt Rain's knees wobble as he moaned high and feminine. Swiss was grinning. "Oh they are...Mountain was a bit too rough on you huh? Big boy always gets a little heavy handed when he's like this, but we all know you're not as fragile as you pretend to be."

"Swiss-" he breathed, head hitting his shoulder as it fell back.

"That's okay sweetheart, just tell me to be gentle." Swiss kissed the hinge of his jaw, still idly fiddling with his piercings. Sighing too close to his gills to have Rain thinking clearly.

"Please..." his swallow was audible, gulping down his pride. "Please be gentle with me."

“There we go, good boy” he cooed and rucked his tanktop up over his chest. Exposing him to the cool air and anyone who might just happen to waltz into the kitchen, exposing Mountain's handiwork.

The little pink buds were awfully puffy, the outline of the earth ghoul's maw encircling either one. Swiss traced the divots in his skin and tsked, opting to slowly roll both nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he kissed a line up the side of his neck.

“Look at them, look how cute they are.”

Rain's breath hitched, a faint and whispered string of pleas tumbling past his lips when the multi ghoul grazed his gills.

“See ‘em?”

“Mhm…”

“So little in my hands.”

“Not little…”

“Oh they're nice and little, perfect.” A little kiss to the delicate membrane on his neck, tongue darting out to tease them open. He was surprised Rain didn't go boneless right there. “Your tits are perfect darling, just like the rest of you.”

“Fuck - put your tongue in it.” Rain reached back to rest his hand on the back of Swiss’ neck. Less than subtle encouragement.

Swiss laughed and drew him perfectly flush to his front, molded himself against his back as he latched onto the sensitive slits. He kissed them just as deeply, just as sloppily as he would if he were kissing Rain properly. Warm saliva and a warmer tongue pushed into his gills, likely a white hot sensation if Rain's moan was anything to go off of.

Another, less harsh tug at his nipples and Rain was really keening, ass pushing back against where Swiss was starting to chub up. He pulled off of his gills, panting and admiring the sheen of spit left on his neck.

“Seven hells…You look wrecked already.”

“Feels good,” Rain’s words were starting to slur. Whether that be from exhaustion or that sweet fuzzy feeling starting to settle into place.

“Course it does, I always make you feel good.” He nosed into his scent gland, groaning as the smell of moss and salt water flooded over him. He never wanted to leave the comfortable place he found in Rain, his body felt like home. “Satanas below, you're the closest thing to divine to ever waltz its way out of the pits.”

Rain whined, nearly groaned in embarrassment, flush creeping to the tips of his ears. He always got so shy when Swiss rolled out this particularly cavity inducing brand of praise.

“Can’t help it…Just love my pretty boy and his pretty tits.”

#void writing #spicy tag #writing #answered #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rulti #swiss/rain #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost ficlet

148 notes · View notes

ravencincaide · 3 months

Text

The First Time is the Hardest

Summary: You got yourself in the biggest shit in your life and didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. Luckily Chuuya’s door was always open for you, no matter the time or the state you were in. Or the time you find out your innocent boyfriend may not be so innocent after all.

Pairing: fem!reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 20: Showering

Warnings: Murder/implied self defense, blood, heavily implied abuse, cursing, nudity + showering together, dark content. Light angst/ Hurt and Sweet Chuuya comfort.

Enjoy~

You barely registered the whipping rain. The large drops of icy water were hitting your practically nude body; dressed only in a torn, shredded drenched- summer dress which clung to your body like second skin, Over it; a black scarf, a large thing which you had draped over your head, snaked over your shoulders and then bunched up at your chest. You held it up with both arms, giving you an almost widow-like eerily broken appearance. A sight that made most humans uncomfortable on a normal day. To add to the grim sight; you wore no shoes on your feet and no socks, just the reminiscence of your tights, full of long holes, as if you got caught on something and pulled, tearing the thin synthetic to slivers.

A young woman in the middle of a heavy rainstorm with that appearance made people avert their gaze from you as though you bore the plague. No one wanted to get involved; no one dared to engage.

Slowly you dragged yourself forward, head bowed. You didn’t know how long you walked, you didn’t even know where you were going. Your feet just carried you seemingly at random. When you had nowhere to go, it didn’t matter what path you took or how long you strolled about. It was not like you were wanted or waited anywhere.

No, that was-

You cut your trail of morbid thoughts off as you recognized the area. Your eyes widened and you looked up just as you came to stand in front of a house. Like a fairytale, it stood on top of a hill, fairly isolated from its neighbors. With large modern windows, two stories and a flat roof perfect for private picnics. One side of it overlooked the water while the second faced the city. You could see the lights in the windows of the top floor, peeking through the tiny gap between the thick black curtains.

At that moment, you didn’t know whether to feel sad or relieved that he was home.

You barely registered as your feet propelled you forward with a speed you didn’t know your body had. Stumbling over rocks and your own feet you caught yourself over and over again as you ran to his front door. On the last step you tripped again and fell forward unable to catch yourself. Your knees made painful contact with the cobblestone outside his door. The pain was barely noticeable on your chilled skin but that little amount of it was sufficient to make you burst into tears. Your arms wrapped around your shoulders, sobs tearing through your body. You needed to save yourself, to reach up and ring that doorbell but you were too damaged to do so.

Was this going to be the end of you?

“ Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing here?” Chuuya’s alarmed voice suddenly reached your ears. You sobbed harder. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, or when he had opened the door, but his voice felt like heaven. A sweet salvation you did not deserve.

“ I’m sorry” You sobbed out as he pulled you up to your feet. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him. “ I didn’t know where else to go-”

“ C’mere” Chuuya sighed as his arms grasped your body and pulled you inside. His foot kicked the door shut behind you, yet he instantly regretted the action when you jumped from the sound. A kiss on the forehead as an apology made you less stiff. Another kiss, and Chuuya’s hands began to pry away the soaked scarf out of your icy cold hands. His lips pressed more kisses to your head as he worked on unraveling it from your body. Half way through however he visibly froze, a hitch in his breath sounding louder than your quiet cries.

The scarf fell out of his hands, slapping against the marble floors with heavy duns; “ Dollface w-why are you covered in blood?”

You had never heard his voice sound so different; so small. So shocked and perhaps a little scared. An almost vulnerable sound you couldn’t quite understand. But you knew you were at fault; you caused this mess and now were dragging him into it. Truly you were the worst human being in existence. Could you even call yourself human any more?

You hung your head lower, larger tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I did it, I-I– him I– K-ki— I’m so so sorry” you repeated that cursed word in between sobs as if it would somehow fix everything. Would take away your guilt; turn back time and erase your sin.

You expected him to yell, to scream and curse and call the police. To shy away from you; to express his disgust at the fact that you had taken a life. To chase you away like the monster you were. Without the scarf your hands could only feebly grasp at the remanence of your blood stained dress, the sticky splatters on your clothes which reinforced your sin. The sight- the smell of it made you cry harder.

“ I – What? Tsk’ed okay, Come on Sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up first” Chuuya stated in a calm voice; his hands wrapped themselves around your shaking bloody body and guided you in the direction of the bathroom. He helped you up the stairs, through the door then held onto you as he turned on the water. One arm around your waist, the second checking the temperature.

Then he stepped under the water, clothes and all, pulling you with him.

One arm remained propping you up and close to his chest, letting you sob into it. His second worked on getting the shreds of the dress off. He tossed it into the corner of his bathroom. Then he tore your tights the rest of the way before tossing the damaged material into the same corner as the dress. His breath hitched in his throat as his fingers brushed against the bruises on your body; newly forming ones on your arms- old ones on your stomach, back and thighs. His look darkened- how the fuck did he miss those?!

“ Oh my sweetheart” Chuuya mumbled in a whisper, careful not to scare you further. The next kiss he pressed was longer. You could have sworn Chuuya, himself was shaking.

Before you could apologize again he got to work; determined to wash every last drop of that bastards blood off your body. He started with your shoulders, the sponge with soap carefully scrubbing each inch of your skin. Then down your back. Then to your stomach. At your permission he unclipped your bra and ran the sponge over your chest.

“ You’re doing so good m’ gorgeous girl” he mumbled, gently hushing your sobs, calming your tears.

He waited until you seemed a little calmer before he shifted you ever so slightly. “ Here hold onto me” he said as he raised your hands and rested them on his shoulders. Then he knelt down running the sponge over your bare legs. He focused extra attention on your feet, determined to scrub the dirt and hours of bare-foot walking away from your skin. As scratches reopened Chuuya growled, feeling of anger and incompetence, a hopeless feeling filled his chest. A reminder of his own failure to protect you. A sensation which made his hold tighten on you; “ How long were you walking around sweetheart?” he asked quietly as he dropped the sponge and rested his head on your stomach. “ How long?!”

“ I don’t know” you whispered numbly, your eyes staring blankly at the soaked head of ginger. The once white dress shirt had splotches of red on it. And the suit pants didn’t look much better for wear. All bećause of you-

“Hmph- Did anyone see you?”

You swallowed and shrugged. You didn’t know. How could you know- you were still out of it. Still in shock over why he was washing your bloody body instead of having you locked up behind bars. Why was he still with you; still kissing you, holding you all that much closer, as if you had suddenly become all that much more precious?

Why?

“ Chuu” you whispered and instantly he looked up at you. Blue eyes rimmed red- but whether it was from tears or shower water you couldn’t tell. “ You don’t need to cover for me. It’s okay, it’s okay– I’m sorry for dragging you into this I’--”

“ Hah, as if one corpse is gonna make me turn tail, pretty girl. Get to hundreds and then we talk” Chuuya chuckled and pressed another kiss to your bare stomach before standing up. As if he had said the most natural thing in the world. He reached for the shampoo bottle and poured some into his hand before beginning to rub it into your hair, his eyes focused entirely on the way the white froth turned red.

“ W-what?!” you gaped not even being able to fathom to repeat this more times; one time was hard enough- a sin enough- wasn’t it?

“ You heard me sweetheart; trust me when I say, the first time is the hardest. After the fifth it’s no different than doing taxes”

You close your eyes as he tilted your head backwards, gentle fingers washed out the shampoo. Then tilted your head up again as a cold dollop of conditioner was applied. Chuuya began to massage your scalp, then the lengths of your hair, making sure to focus on the tangled strands. He was going to wash every single single reminder of the heinous act off your body.

Your lips pull up into a wry smile at his comparison. Then you hesitate for a long moment. Salvaging the feeling of him washing your hair. The feeling brought you the tiniest bit of hope that things would turn out okay- a firm reminder that you did not deserve him “Then… can you make it go away?” you whispered as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks “ To make it all okay?”

Chuuya sighed and brought you closer to his chest, your tears tugging on his heart in ways he never wanted to experience ever again. Your broken expression and agonized cries felt worse than any stab wound he experienced. “ I’ll take care of everything baby, trust me? Shhh my sweetheart. Come tomorrow, this will feel like a bad dream- a nightmare you won’t give a second thought to. In time my sweets this won't cause you tears anymore; as I said, first time is always the hardest..”

And as he pressed his lips to yours, you prayed that was the case.

Though a little voice inside your mind told you Chuuya knew what he was talking about. At least when it came to this. You knew you should be afraid but at that moment you were just thanking the gods. If he was going to help you cover up your sin, then who were you to be concerned over the blood on his hands?

Author Note: ... No one gets to point out my counting abilities okay? Lets focus on the fic instead, mm? It's a bit dark but definitely in my sweeter category. Originally it was like 3 times as long but hey even I can't have however-long-fics posted in one post. That being said it's only quickly edited because I just don't have the strengths for a longer edit rn. So I'm sorry for all the mistakes i'd normally catch; I'll most likely go back one day and fix it up. Until then, please enjoy this Chuuya "fluff?" Wait, can it even be called that?!

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #murder #first time #sweetober #Chuuya angst #Chuuya hurt comfort #Chuuya comfort #Raven Cincaide works #Chuuya fluff

149 notes · View notes

sunraies · 1 year

Text

Cupcakes and Rainstorms

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - fluff, enemies to something, kissing. Rafe has a crush.

Getting stuck on the side of the road in a rainstorm has an unexpected outcome

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sudden downpour came out of nowhere. The joys of summer rainstorms. One minute, the sun is shining, and then suddenly, the sky becomes dark and grey.

It was just your luck that the heavens opened while you were making a delivery to the Figure Eight. You father's beat up, bakery van was never good in the rain.

The white van with a smiling cupcake tended not have the ability to break in the rain. You begged your father to upgrade it as the business grew but he insisted it worked perfectly fine. The rusted, cupcake smiling, piece of shit.

Sure, it had memories from the days when the bakery first opened but it wasn't worth your life. You should have just biked the five dozen white cupcakes to the obnoxious white themed party.

What 14 year old held a white themed party, anyway?

You had pulled over to check the directions and got stuck in a muddy puddle, which was more like a bog with a stupid little white dress on. No way could you risk trying to push the fucking, heap of junk in the rain.

You had phoned JJ for help but had no luck and it wasn't worth trying the others. If JJ didn't pick up, the others wouldn't. Whatever shit he was getting up to, they were definitely with him. You sent an SOS message to the group, but they could take hours.

Hitting your head on the stirring wheel, you groaned in tune with the horn. Stuck between Figure Eight and The Cut with your phone battery dead. Maybe you should have called a tow truck before JJ.

With the horn blaring you didn't hear the roar of the motorcycle. It was the sharp knocking on the driver window that caught your attention.

"Holy shit!" You yelled, jumping and holding a hand over your heart.

Stood outside your window in the pouring rain, white shirt soaked through was Rafe Cameron.

"What the hell, are you doing?" You rolled down the window as he frowned at you.

"Oh, that's a shame. I thought I found a dead Pogue"

You could have sworn he looked concerned for a moment before realising it was you.

"Sorry to ruin your fantasy" you grumbled, ready to roll the window up on him but his hand stopped you.

"It's pissing it down," He pointed out, like you couldn't tell.

"And?"

"Let me sit for a bit"

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching the rain drip from his hair as the fabric of his shirt, which made it more and more see-through. He noticed you looking, and a small smirk appeared.

"Come on, my bike is laying in the mud, and this shirt is expensive."

You glanced in the mirror, noticing the motor bike thrown down in the bog like puddle. Had he really been that concerned?

"Fine, but you're phoning for a tow truck." He was already running round to the passenger side.

He made a shivering noise as he slammed the passenger door shut and shook himself. "You didn't call a truck?"

"Dead battery" you held up, your battered and broken phone.

It had a cracked screen and worn-out case, but you loved it. The lock screen was of the gang on the beach, and tucked in the back was a post-it with a doodle from Kie.

It was your father's stupid cupcake, smoking a joint, and the knife stabbed into the icing.

"So we're stuck." Rafe tried not to smile at the doodle as you throw your phone upside down on the dashboard.

"We?" You looked over at him.

Taking in his appearance more. He really did have a body like a Greek god, clearly visible with his shirt clinging to his toned torso. He had a face like an angel when he wasn't scowling.

"Don't have my phone on me, sweetheart" He shrugged, patting his pockets to prove a point.

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Who the fuck, doesn't have their phone on them?"

"Didn't think I needed it"

After some silence and the annoyance of him huffing while playing with random things in the van. You snapped,

"Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Breathing so hard"

"I'm just breathing"

"Well, stop"

"I'm sure you and your little friends would love that"

"I wouldn't be complaining"

"Wow. Ouch" He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Didn't know you could be so heartless"

"Guess we don't know a lot about each other"

"I do" He muttered, so quitely that you barely caught it.

"Oh really? Let's see what the Kook King, thinks of a Pogue 'peasant' like me"

The rain was still hammering down on the windscreen and making a tinny sound as it bounced of the roof of the van.

He scoffed at you again. "I wouldn't say peasant. What with your father's business and all"

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he wouldn't reject the idea of being called Kook King.

Your father's bakery had become so popular in Outerbanks that custom had even spread the main land. He had more than enough to move, upgrade, and even buy a house in the Figure Eight, but he didn't want the change. Everything he was gaining was going into a collage fund for you and your future.

"Thanks, I guess"

Uncomfortable silence fell again as the rain didn't ease.

"Why did you stop?"

"Stop what?" He asked again.

"At the van"

He shrugged "I knew it was your father's"

Rafe didn't look at you as he quickly added at the same time as you, before you even asked why.

"Fucking smiling cupcake"

You actually laughed at the timing. Little did you know, he hated the cupcake as every time he saw it around, he hoped it was you driving.

In the cute polo shirt with the cupcake logo and shorts that hugged your butt. The baseball cap with the same logo, worn backwards and your white, now grey, scuffed up converse.

You bounced around, smiling and wishing good day to people as you delivered the elite of the island. Music blaring out of the rust bucket or taping away on your phone, nodding as you picked the next track before hopping on your bike.

The first time he saw you around was about a year ago. Sure, he'd seen you with the Pogues, but he really noticed you when you had come to Tanneyhill.

It wasn't even an actual delivery. You had been popping by to pick Sarah up for John B bringing a small box of baked goods with you. Wheeze actually hugged you when she saw you at the door. She loved the cupcakes.

"You scared me, you know?" He played with the ring on his finger.

"How?"

"When I saw the van, and the horn. I thought

...." he sighed as you watched him. He looked so vulnerable as he swallowed.

"I was dead?" You frowned, you were going to snark back about how fucking morbid that was before he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

"So you throw your bike in the mud? Wow, dramatic much? " You chose a lighter topic, which actually made him laugh.

🧁

"Hey, hey," you hit his hand away from the box of perfectly iced cakes. "Don't eat those!"

"We have been sat here an hour." Rafe pointed out his watch.

Your eyes went wide, shit, shit, shit. An hour. You were an hour late. An hour of money lost. An hour of no one coming to rescue you. A hour of -

"I'm sure, Wheeze won't mind"

Wheeze? What the hell, did he mean Wheeze? His baby sister.

Oh, you were going to kill, Jeremy. The dipshit had put Tawney Hall on the delivery notice. No wonder you couldn't find it. If you known you were delivering for the Camerons you would have never pulled over in the first place.

"Wheezie, wanted a white theme party?" You found that hard to believe.

"Rose wanted" He corrected as he grabbed a cupcake from the box again.

You hit his hand a moment too slow, causing the cupcake to go flying and land on his drying, white shirt. You laughed and covered your mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You tried to be sincere, but the laughter didn't help.

"I told you this was expensive, baby"

He shook his head at you, he looked annoyed but there was a twinkle in his eye. God, had they always been so blue?

He dipped his finger into the icing before making you gasp as he ran it down your nose.

"Rafe, no, no" You laughed and put your hands up but was not use.

Soon, you both ended up covered in icing and crumbled cakes.

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath fan over your lips. You had ended up with your back against the door as Rafe fitted perfectly between your legs. His hand cupped your neck as you held his shoulder.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips and back again. He swallowed a few times as your heart beat loudly in your chest.

"Kiss me"

It was a whisper, but he caught it and took only a moment before his lips collied with yours. He tasted of vanilla icing.

You broke suddenly apart as the familiar tune of The Twinkie's horn sounded so close by.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks

996 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 11 months

Text

Written In The Photos - Social Media Series

decided to take a little break from writing (I will still be writing after this, don’t worry!) but I didn’t want to leave you guys without content so I present the Written In The Photos series. each driver/player has a song and their post is inspired by said song :) I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed making it <3 // special thank you to my bestie @themandaloriansdiaries for all her help with song choices and all the cracked out convos we had to put it together.

Carlos Sainz Jr - Smooth Operator by Sade

late nights, jet leg and messed up sleep schedules lead to words spoken which would normally be kept to themselves.

Jack Grealish - Hot Girl Summer by Meg Thee Stallion

party after party, Jack seems to be spotted with the same girl over and over again.

Lewis Hamilton - Loveeeeeee Song by Rihanna and Future

he’s sick and tired of seeing you in private, he wants the world to know you’re his.

Sergio Ramos - Way 2 Sexy by Drake

working for a footballer isn’t easy, it’s even harder when everyone thinks you’re dating. ( footballer x pr manager)

Max Verstappen - Can We Still Friends by Tyler, The Creator

even the best of the friends can have falling outs, especially when you’re on opposites side of the track. (teammate/rival!reader)

Andy Robertson - I’m Still In Love With You by Sean Paul ft. Sasha and Jeremy Harding

so many years apart and you’re still in love with the same guy you’ve always been in love with.

Lance Stroll - Stuck With You by Ariana Grande

every relationship goes sour, except for the one you had with a certain brown eyed boy.

Pato O’Ward - Sunday Candy by Nico Segal

snapshots of love and life with the love of your life.

Jude Bellingham - P Power by Gunna ft Drake

young and in love, you two find yourselves making headlines more often than not.

Sebastian Vettel - Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado and Timberland

can’t keep his hands off you and can’t keep the flirty comments away. (redbull seb)

Kylian Mbappe - Hotel Room Service by Pitbull

secrets unravel when you’re caught together in spain.

Jenson Button - Money by Cardi B

diamonds are a girl’s best friend after all (sugar daddy!jenson)

Ruben Dias - Golden Hour by JVKE

you supported him through it all, it only made sense you were the one there in the end.

George Russell - London Boy by Taylor Swift

grey weather is a bit of a downer, unless you have someone by your side.

Bukayo Saka - Star Boy by The Weeknd

proud, proud, proud; you showed everyone just how proud you really were.

Mick Schumacher - Dark Red by Steve Lacy

he only has eyes for one girl and it’s the one girl he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. (vettel!reader)

Neymar Jr - Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny

he promised to change, you were stupid enough to believe him but people never really change do they?

Lando Norris - Young, Dumb and Broke by Khalid

regret makes people do crazy things.

John Stones - I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston

your husband winning the treble calls for celebration and you two finally get the night out you deserve.

Esteban Ocon - Sure Thing by Miguel

attached at the hip; the sunshine to his rain. you were everything to him.

Erling Haaland - Sunday Mornings by Maroon 5

sunday mornings were a bit of a tradition for you, everyone notices when the pattern changes.

Pierre Gasly - Creepin’ by The Weeknd

loyalty runs both ways, until it doesn’t anymore but nothing ever really changes, does it?

Virgil Van Dijk - Let ‘Em Know by Bryson Tiller

some things never change, no matter how much you try.

Fernando Alonso - I’m Still Standing by Elton John

looking up and looking down, it never felt so right.

Jordan Henderson - If I Ain’t Got You by Alicia Keys

with your 10th anniversary around the corner, you both get a bit in your feels.

Charles Leclerc - A Sunday Kind Of Love by Etta James

races, weddings and races again; sundays hold a special place in his heart.

Trent Alexander Arnold - One Kiss by Dua Lipa

all it took was one kiss and the floodgates were opened.

Daniel Ricciardo - Woo by Rihanna

monaco is good to those who are good to it, especially those who win. every winner deserves a prize worthy of a king.

Christian Pulisic - Unforgettable by French Montana and Swae Lee

the star player and the ex girlfriend of his closest teammate are spotted together; you’re too unforgettable.

Kostas Tsimikas - Boyfriend by Ariana Grande and Social House

you were his until you weren't, but then you were again. the two of you tangled in the sheets and in a web of confusion; were you or were you not?

#written in the photos social media series #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #football instagram au #football social media au

657 notes · View notes

gyu-effect · 8 months

Text

SEVENTEEN AS TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

[♡] seungcheol as blank space. “hi.” you said a little breathlessly, as you waved at the well dressed man in front of you. he turned to look at you and immediately raised an eyebrow, looking amused that you had approached him. but that didn’t deter you from continuing your introduction. “hi, i’m-” you began but he cut you off. “l/n y/n. yes, of course i know you.” even though it shouldn’t have been shocking that he knew you, you could still feel heat creeping up your cheeks. “uh, thank you? i mean- i mean even i know you!” you immediately cringed at your words, wishing the ground would just swallow you up but the man opposite to you seemed unfazed by it. if anything, he took a step closer to you, as though interested in seeing where this conversation was going to go. “oh, is that so?” choi seungcheol asked, his voice dropping a little and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. just how bad was your crush on this man? “i bet your daddy told you a lot of things about me, didn’t he?” you opened your mouth to argue that even though it was a known fact your father and his never got along as friends, your father never looked down on the choi family as business partners. though he did tell me to stay away from you at this party. seungcheol cut you off before you could explain yourself saying, “didn’t your father ask you to not speak to me?” this statement caught you off guard, as you hadn’t expected seungcheol to guess this much. “uh yeah,” you began sheepishly, determined to not let your father’s reputation affect this golden opportunity. “but you know, i’m allowed to make my own decisions. besides, i don’t allow my father’s choices to determine my enemies and friends.” seungcheol cocked his head a little and for a second you were worried that you had said something stupid, but then he just burst out laughing, the sound resonating through your ears like music. “of course, of course. you shouldn’t let others actions affect you.” he said, his eyes twinkling with an amusement that caused a shiver to run down your spine. then, he took another step closer to you, until you could almost feel his breath on your cheeks before saying, “still, isn’t it dangerous for you to talk to me like this? especially when you are looking this pretty and can get any man you want?” you rolled your eyes at his statement in an attempt to cover up the squeal that was about to erupt from you. pretty? pretty? choi seungcheol called me pretty? “i’m pretty sure i know what i want.” you said and for the first time in the evening seungcheol smiled at you warmly, all the flirtiness gone from his mannerism. somehow, that made you fall even more for him. “want to see the stars from the balcony with me, then?”

[♡] jeonghan as champagne problems. the rain pelted against the window of the speeding train as jeonghan stared out of the window aimlessly, feeling his heart grow heavier and heavier as the train rode on deeper into the night. what had gone wrong? how could everything go so wrong when he had just told you yesterday that he was the happiest man alive? he was sure, he had been so sure that you too loved him like he loved you. and- and all his friends had reassured him that you looked at no one else except him like that way, like he was the only star in the night sky. he stared back at his reflection on the window. did he always look this sad and tired? he wanted to cry; he wanted to scream and pull out his hair as the sadness ate him up from inside. “is this seat taken?” he turned to the person standing in front of the cabin door, nodding numbly as he crumbled the ticket for two in his hand. he had planned so much for you. so much. he had thought of asking you out with this ring which was now sitting heavily in his breast pocket, taking you back to his summer home that you always wanted to see tonight, and just so much, so much more. he remembered the look of horror you had on your face when he finally confessed that he loved you when the two of you dancing, the way your smile fell when you realised he wasn’t joking or didn’t mean it platonically- jeonghan clutched his hair in anger, pulling it in hopes that the searing pain would be lesser than the one in his heart. how could he? how could he do that to you? he had overstepped the boundary of friendship, thought that you loved him differently like he did and now you were completely out of his grasp. his foolish actions had costed him his friendship and now he had lost his best friend too. would he be able to face you again? the very thought of losing you even as a friend scared him. why was he such an idiot? would you be able to face him again? and what was he supposed to say to his friends? he could already imagine seungcheol and joshua saying that he would find someone else; someone who could actually love him and that he just give you some space to mend back the friendship. but no one could replace you. he could never love anyone the way he loved you; jeonghan was sure about that. “heartbreak?” the man asked and jeonghan glanced at him, hoping he wouldn’t have to talk much because he wasn’t in the mood at all. “don’t worry,” the man continued, completely unfazed by jeonghan’s attitude. “it will go away slowly. everything does.” he found himself nodding to the man’s words, trying to flood his mind with all the beautiful memories he had with you. “i hope so.” he muttered, finally feeling the tears fall.

[♡] joshua as paper rings. “shua.” you whispered, gently prodding your sleeping boyfriend’s cheeks. all you got was a grunt from him as he tightened his grip around you to pull you impossibly closer to him than you already were. “shua. my love. baby. sweetheart.” apparently fourth time was the charm because joshua finally opened one eye, looking at you lazily as though asking you to go on. “baby,” you began excitedly (as if it wasn’t three in the morning) “do you remember the time we went on a date but it started raining and we parked the car so far that we had to run all the way back?” you could tell that he was still sleepy from the way he smiled at you slowly, gently rubbing your back as though trying to lull you back to sleep. “of course, love. how could i forget. we were drenched from head to toe. on top of that we couldn’t find our car and even though jeonghan’s was right in front of us, he refused to give us a ride because of how wet we were. said something about ruining his car seats.” you whined at the memory and joshua finally opened his eyes fully to look at you, his hands moving up to now cup your cheeks. “i was so tired that day. and wet. and cold.” joshua leaned in and kissed you softly, moving his lips slowly against yours. “yeah.” he muttered, lips brushing against yours. “my poor baby was so tired and i was so worried that you would catch a cold.” you giggled as you remembered how much joshua had babied you following that incident. “i was totally saved because of the amount of times you had doused me in water because of your ‘sunday morning’ obsession.” “oh hush.” he whispered playfully, booping his nose against yours. “you love it when i baby you.” you laughed lightly, nodding at his words. “i do. you are so lucky i love it when you are babying me, hong joshua.” he shook his head, pulling you into a hug and you buried your head into the crook of his neck. “nuh uh. you love me regardless of whether or not i baby you.” you fisted his shirt in your hand, wrapping your arm tightly around his torso. “yeah. i love you so so much. i love you beyond anything in this world.” joshua gently kissed the top of your head and you could finally feel the exhaustion of staying up so late wash over you. you thought of all the fun activities you had done with him, and felt a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. “babe.” he said suddenly, mischief shining in his eyes. “remember the time you looked like a ghost?” now it was your time to groan. “you smashed my face on the cake, shua. what do you mean by i looked like a ghost?”

[♡] junhui as gold rush. his eyes casually flicked to yours and you immediately looked down, your hand gripping the brush tightly to prevent the flush from creeping up your cheeks. you could hear all the girls beside you giggling and whispering about the model; after all he was just too handsome, the perfect person to be painted on a canvas. slowly, you looked up again but wen junhui was still looking at you, this time with a smirk on his face. you hated the way he always casually sat in front of your class like it was the students’ fault he was here. you hated the way he would have his head on his hand, elbow on the desk as he posed. you hated the way his soft hair fell on his beautiful face, giving you the urge to brush it out of his eyes. you hated the way his god-crafted lips parted into a smirk everytime he caught you staring for a bit too long. and you hated the way he made you feel. this time was no different as you looked back at your canvas hastily, feeling your stomach turn as your heart skipped a beat. what was so great about him anyways? he was just a model because of his great looks. if you went around catching feelings for all the models you painted, then god forbid if your father would still send you to these special girls only art classes. you faintly heard the bell toll and even before the teacher could tell it was time to go, all the girls were scrambling to pack their brushes and paint. you too got up almost immediately, not wanting to be left alone with junhui but as you struggled to undo the bow of your apron, your elbow hit the easel, dropping the canvas and your paints. you let out a cry and hurried to get them back, but just before you could grab the one which had rolled off far, you found junhui’s outstretched hand towards you, holding the paint. “here you go.” you heard his deep voice as he smiled at you, causing your heart to stutter once more. “th-thanks.” you stammered, snatching the paint and putting it back. “need help with the apron?” he asked softly and you shook your head furiously, adamant to get out of this room as soon as you could. “no, thank you. i can do it myself-” “and knock over the canvas again?” you glared at him and he just smirked back at you, the cockly self back again. “i- well, okay i guess.” he got up on his feet in a second and gave you a hand, which you gladly took. but you hadn’t expected him to be this strong when he pulled you up, gently turning you so that your back faced him. “by the way, you draw amazing.” he hummed, removing the knot from your back. “um, thank you.” you muttered as the apron came out, turning to face him one last time. the two of you stared at each other for a while, not sure of what to say. the sunlight that had slipped in through the stone window gave him a soft ethereal glow, something which you knew even a painting couldn’t capture, making him look almost like a god. “so, um,” junhui began nervously, all of a sudden avoiding your eyes. “would you like to go and see the gardens with me?”

[♡] soonyoung as gorgeous. you watched as he held your gaze for a while, before slowly walking towards your seat with a smirk. suddenly you felt heat creep up your cheeks and you looked away, despite staring at the said man dancing on the dance floor for the past hour. “hey.” he said, sliding onto the seat beside you, quickly ordering a drink for himself. taking in a deep breath (which was a mistake because you ended up inhaling his cologne instead) you turned to face him with a smile before saying, “hi. i was watching you dance.” “i noticed.” he said with a wink, before taking a sip of his drink. even though he was the one who was sweating, you were definitely the one who was feeling hotter. of course he had noticed! that’s why he approached you in the first place! “you feeling hot?” the man beside you asked, snapping you out of your embarrassing thoughts. “huh? oh yeah. but you know, who doesn’t feel hot in a club, right?” you laughed awkwardly at your joke, your only relief being the man’s smile widening. “yeah. especially when you are sitting next to a hot girl, right?” he asked. you stared at him for a second before shaking your head, biting your lips hard to prevent a smile from forming. “smooth. very, very smooth. you don’t even know my name and yet you are already hitting on me?” you asked and he just tilted his head at you, as though studying you. why did he have to look so hot doing such a humane action? “well you don’t know my name either and yet you were staring at me the entire time.” you rolled your eyes, admitting defeat. “oh well, that’s because you dance really, really well. and uh, i was seeing you before with your friends. you seemed to be a very fun person.” he jutted out his lips in a pout and you found yourself internally screaming. wow so he was cute and hot? “you sure you were checking me out? and not one of my friends?” this time, you spluttered on your drink. “wh- what? no, of course not-” he laughed, shaking his head. “don’t worry, i'm just pulling your leg. though if you are interested, i could introduce you to my friends. they are really hot too. even though i’ll be sad to let you go.” you immediately shook your head. “no no no! i, uh, i’m only interested in getting to know you.” his smile widened, and despite how sexy he had looked before, he looked really sweet now. “good because even i want to know only you. i’m kwon soonyoung by the way.”

[♡] wonwoo as wildest dreams. a sigh escaped your lips as you stared at the setting sun on the horizon, wonwoo’s hand brushing against yours like a ghost. the highway was completely empty except for the two of you, the deafening silence a reminder of how you actually felt right now, despite being with the person you loved the most. “what’s wrong?” his deep voice resonated, shaking you from your thoughts. you looked up at him as he smiled at you warmly, his glasses catching the sunlight which was now beating down on both of you. “nothing. nothing, actually.” you said looking away, unable to meet his eyes anymore. you could feel your heart weighing down with each passing second, and you couldn’t get yourself to tell him your burden and ruin the little romantic getaway he had prepared for the both of you. “if it makes you this upset,” wonwoo hummed, cupping your face and turning you towards him, “it’s not nothing, okay?” you nodded, letting out another sigh. “it’s just that- it’s just that you are going to leave- leave me-” your voice caught, as you fought back the tears threatening to form. wonwoo frowned at your statement, before pulling you into a hug. “leave you? i’m not leaving you, love. you know i have to leave the country; this opportunity is too important for me to miss.”. “i know, i know.” you muttered, burying your face into his chest. “it’s just that- our relationship is already a secret and it was already so hard to meet up and now that you are going to go away, it’s going to become worse.” wonwoo rubbed circles on your back slowly, trying to calm you down. but it wasn’t really working, not when you knew that there were high chances of your relationship disappearing into nothingness. as if the two of you didn’t even exist together in the first place. “and no one will know.” you sobbed, the tears falling freely now. “and no one will know what happened between us. no one will know why we are sad or how we ended up like this. no one will even know how much we loved each other. “ at this wonwoo just laughed lightly, causing you to look up at him and give him a glare. “okay, okay sorry baby.” he said, kissing your forehead. “but i can never, ever forget about you. you’ll always be seared in my brain, in my memories and in my each and every breath. you are a part of me and i cannot even think of not loving you. okay, my love? i’ll always love you. and if you stop loving me, i’ll always keep loving the memory of you.

[♡] jihoon as delicate. the cold air ripped through his hair as he clung on to your waist in order to not fall off from the bike. you let out a whoop as you sped down the street, the sound coming out much louder in the quiet night than jihoon would have expected but nonetheless he felt a smile push through his cheeks. you were right; this was what he needed instead of being cooped up for more hours in his studio, looking for inspirations in his blank brain. speeding through the night as the two of you laughed, all the heaviness and pressure he had been feeling slowly lifted off his shoulders and he felt a slight giddiness flow through his veins now. finally, you came to a halt, parking your bike on the bridge over the han river. you hopped off the bike and jihoon followed suit, copying your actions to lean against the railings. you smiled at him and he felt a small chuckle escape him at your action. despite dating for so long, he still felt his skin tingle with electricity when your elbow brushed against his. “isn’t this great?” you hummed, looking at the horizon as you sighed contently. jihoon’s brain, which a few minutes ago was a complete mush from being stuck in the same room for hours now seemed to be running at a thousand miles per hour. you looked so pretty, so pretty, despite wearing just casuals, staring dreamily at the city lights blinking in the distance. the dark water gently lapped below the two of you and when he didn’t respond, you turned to look at him. you had always been kind and patient with him, he who always had had some difficulty expressing himself and yet you always understood him perfectly. even now you seemed to understand what he was trying to say, looking at him like he was the most precious person in the world. “yeah.” jihoon said after a while. “yeah, this is great. i wish i could take you out on a proper date though.” you laughed, your laughter which was like music to his ears, before saying, “oh well, i had brought you here to help you get some inspiration but consider this as a date then.” slowly, he slid a hand down your arm until it grasped your hand, before pulling you into a kiss. the night was still cold, and his thin shirt and shorts barely gave him any warmth. but somehow, your lips on his caused warmth to bloom in his heart, slowly spreading to his entire body. “i love you so much.” he murmured against your lips before wrapping his other arm around your waist to pull you in closer.

[♡] seokmin as love story. you could feel your nails digging into the stone wall, as you anxiously watched the gates of the building neighbouring to yours. the warm sunlight bathed your skin in heat, and you were sure it was picture worthy but you couldn’t care less even if you were on a vacation in the alps right now. “ma’am, we should go back-” began the maid beside you before you shushed her with an angry glare. couldn’t they understand the situation? couldn't they see how terrified you were? your heart was beating loudly against your ear as you held your breath tightly when the huge oak doors of your father’s residence swung open. out stepped lee seokmin, eyes scanning the ground anxiously as though looking for something. then his eyes flicked up and met yours, and you felt a sudden happiness course through your veins as he smiled back at you gently. letting out a small scream of delight, you turned and ran down the stairs, clutching your gown so as to not trip and ruin the moment. but would it really matter? especially now, knowing that nothing, nothing mattered to you except for the fact that your father had said yes to seokmin’s proposal? “seokmin!” you said as you flung into his open arms, nearly knocking him off his footing and he stumbled back a little but quickly regained his balance, engulfing you like you were his life line. “my love,” he muttered softly into your hair, almost causing your knees to give away. “he said yes. your father said yes.” you looked up at him and smiled, his warm eyes holding all the love he had for you in this world and you nearly felt dizzy from it, and finally the setting sun was a beauty you could acknowledge. thinking back of all the hardships you both had to go through because you loved each other pulled a painful string in your heart, and you felt tears sting your eyes. seokmin frowned worriedly, immediately cupping your face to brush away the tears with his thumb. “what’s wrong, my love?” he muttered, and you shook your head smilingly. “n-nothing.” you choked, a laughter bubbling as you thought of just how much you loved him, that you were even willing to give up the comforts of the palace for him. “i just- it’s just that- god, i love you so much.” the corners of his lips curled up in response, before he enveloped your lips in his, devouring them like this was your last kiss. you too clung on to his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you kissed him back in the same fiery passion. “i love you too,” he murmured against your lips. “i love you too so, so much.”

[♡] mingyu as i knew you were trouble. “should we be doing this?” you whispered against his lip, feeling this weird sense of foreboding in your gut as you leaned in to kiss him. kim mingyu just smirked back at you, as though asking you to reply to your own question. when you didn’t respond, he just cocked his head and said, “we don't have to do it if you don’t want to, princess.” you stared at him for a second, your mind in a whirl. there he went again. always throwing you into confusion of what you thought you wanted and what you actually wanted. because you knew mingyu was bad for you; he was someone you had never ever thought you would associate yourself with. and yet here you were, in the arms of the very man you were very sure you shouldn’t be with. but you could never stop yourself. could never stop yourself from chasing him, loving him, touching him, kissing him- you stopped all your thoughts by pressing your lips against his, and mingyu responded back to your action by wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in impossibly closer. his lips moved against yours and all thoughts were truly lost as the only sound you could now hear was the thumping of your own heart in your ear. you loved him so much. you loved the way he made you feel, you loved the way he made you feel special, loved the way he always worshipped you. then why was it that when you weren’t with him, you regretted your actions? then why was it that each time the two of you secretly planned to meet up, you would promise yourself that you would use this opportunity to break up with him even though you always ended up losing your resolve whenever he smiled at you so cutely? was it because he was the man your father had warned you against? was it because of the fact he somehow knew everything about you but you knew so little of him? you felt one of mingyu’s hands slowly trace your back, rising higher and higher until it was cupping your cheek. he then tilted your head ever so slightly, giving him a better access to your mouth and you sighed contentedly. “i love you, princess.” he groaned as kissed the corner of your lips, before moving them southwards towards your jaws. “i-” your eyes fluttered close as he pressed a kiss under your ear, teeth grazing the soft skin as he soothed down the area with his tongue. “i-” you began again, but this time for some reason you couldn’t continue your statement. i love you. i love you! how hard was it to tell that? you loved him; you loved kim mingyu so why couldn’t you tell him that? why could you feel bile rising up your throat, ripping you off your voice to say those simple words? by now mingyu had caught on with your hesitation and he withdrew a little, looking at you concerningly. immediately you felt bad but he just shook his head, saying, “i don’t think you are well princess. should we catch up another time?” you wanted to scream no! but all you could do was look down at your feet, unable to meet his eyes. you felt him brush past you as he walked out of the room. “we’ll meet again, princess.” he said, before disappearing into the shadows of your hallways. but you let out a sigh, knowing that the again, was going to be much, much later.

[♡] minghao as willow. “slow down! slow down!” you yelled, but minghao just laughed, still pulling you as the two of you ran through the tiny cobblestone road. the garden beside you was a blur, partly because your lover wasn’t letting you stop and admire anything, not even your favourite english roses on the arches above you and because you were laughing too much because of the sudden enthusiasm he was showing. “where are we going, hao?” you asked once again but he just looked at you and smiled sweetly, nearly causing you to stumble as your heart stuttered a little. “just follow me, my love. okay?” he said, and you found yourself nodding, as though in a trance. a small part of you was worried that you would get lost; the garden was so huge and it had been only a week since you and minghao had discovered it. still, you trusted him that he knew his way because he seemed to be moving deeper into the garden confidently. lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see that minghao had stopped until you crashed into him, him immediately caging you in his embrace so that you didn’t fall. you felt your cheeks flush as you looked up at him slightly embarrassed. “sorry.” you muttered but he just smiled fondly at you, gently brushing his nose against yours. “it’s okay, i should have warned you when i was pulling you so hard.” you smiled back at him, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “i wanted to show you something.” he muttered and you hummed, asking him to go on. “yesterday i was trying to search for some nice flowers for you and i stumbled upon this place.” he said, finally letting you go from his grasp and you turned towards the direction he was looking at. a small gasp escaped your lips as your eyes met the scenic beauty in front of you. there was a huge lake, its crystal blue waters reflecting the beautiful willow trees growing on its edges. it almost looked like waterfalls were cascading from every side but instead of water, green leaves were falling into it. you felt minghao’s hand brush against your back and you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in, causing minghao to chuckle. “this place,” you began, spinning to look at him, “is so pretty!” there was nothing more you loved in this world other than being able to enjoy such a beautiful place minghao, and this place felt like heaven right now. a gentle breeze blew against the two of you and you could feel the tranquillity of the moment settle in you as you leaned in to rest your head on minghao’s shoulder. “but,” minghao said, kissing the top of your head, “this place isn’t as pretty as you.”

[♡] seungkwan as back to december. you stared at him through the huge cafe window, wondering for the millionth time if this was the right thing to do. seungkwan seemed unaware of your presence as he scrolled through his phone, even though the window was just a little away from his table. suddenly his previously bored face lit up in a smile as a notification came up, him eagerly typing back something. you felt your heart clench painfully as you remembered the old memories, regret rising up your throat once again. maybe he found someone else better? maybe asking to meet up with him was a bad idea? taking in a deep breath to calm yourself down and ignore the intrusive thoughts, you pushed the door of the cafe and walked in until you reached his table. seungkwan looked up almost immediately, his smile dipping before it grew a little more, indicating that it was forced. “hi.” you said, sitting down on the chair opposite to him. “how are you? how are your sisters? how is your work? how-” all of a sudden he reached forward and grabbed your hand, catching you completely off guard and making you forget the entire greeting you had prepared and rehearsed for him. “y/n.” he said, this time with a softer and more genuine smile. “calm down, okay? take a deep breath in.” you found yourself automatically doing what he had just told, breathing in deeply as he slowly let go your hand. his eyes dropped down to your other hand and with a jolt you remembered the bouquet in your hand. “oh, this is for you!” you said, carefully handing him the flowers you had just bought. seungkwan’s face was unreadable as he took them from your hand, carefully studying them. “i bought lilies.” you said a bit nervously, not sure how he would receive it. “because-” “because it's our favourite flower.” he completed, looking up to meet your eyes. even though he tried to keep a blank and composed face, you could see the sadness and pain hiding in them; emotions that he shouldn’t have to deal with but here he was, heart completely shattered because of you. he cleared his throat and put aside the bouquet, saying, “so, you wanted to meet me?” your heart sank a little at how unfazed his statement had sounded. but it wasn’t his fault, was it? after all, you were the one who wanted to break up. you were the one who said you couldn't do this anymore and this relationship felt like a burden. you were the one who left him all alone, throwing away those lilies he had just bought for you. “seungkwan i- i- still love you.” you said, your voice a broken whisper. you saw him open his mouth but you raised a hand to continue, before looking down at your lap as the first tear fell. “i- i was a fool. i felt like i wasn’t free anymore. and i felt that those thoughts were like a burden to you. but when i left you, i released- i realised that not once had you complained about me being a burden and that i- and that i still- i still loved you. i missed you every single day and i still miss you and i’m just so so sorry for everything. for breaking your heart, for pushing you away when all you did was love me-” you felt a hand cover your mouth and you looked up, only to find seungkwan’s face inches away from yours. his eyes were watery and he slowly removed his hand from your mouth, before taking your hand in his. “don’t-” he began shakily. “don’t. okay? you were never a burden to me. and you never will be. and i- and i too still love you. never could forget about you, ever.” you exhaled slowly at his words, feeling a huge weight lift off your chest. “then- then can we start again? even just as friends?” you asked and he smiled at you softly. “you didn’t need to ask again, love.”

[♡] vernon cruel summer. you let out another scream of joy as the wind whipped through your hair, arms outstretched as you tried to feel the summer breeze on your fingertips. vernon glanced at you quietly, a smile on his face as he turned his eye back on the road, even though it was surprisingly empty. the two of you had decided to spend the last week of summer at your ‘secret getaway beach’, and while vernon knew the beach wasn’t any secret place, he was even more shocked to see the empty seaside as he parked the car near it, devoid of any tourists. “hey babe?” he asked, as you practically jumped out of the car. “don’t tell me you rented out the entire beach or something like that.” you turned to him and batted your eyelashes, saying, “who? me? of course not, i would never do something like that for you.” vernon let out a laugh at this, shaking his head as he tried to make a serious face at you. “no, seriously. did you?” by now the two of you were standing together behind the trunk of the car as he opened it, and you rolled your eyes at him as you picked up one of the small suitcases. “of course not, nonie. i’m so broke i had to ask you for a ride here. how can i afford to rent a beach? is that even possible?” he shrugged, picking up the other one and closing the door shut. then, he took your outstretched hand and walked with you towards the edge of the lapping waters. “i don’t know.” he muttered, staring at the setting sun in the horizon, which had painted the waters orangish pink. “that definitely sounds like something you would do.” you laughed at his statement, before dropping the luggage in your hand and turning to give him another mischievous smile. vernon had a millisecond to realise what you were up to but before he could react, he found himself being pulled into the sea, a wave crashing into his body as salt water flooded him in every direction. he could still hear your shrieks and laughter, you grip on his hand tightening so that you didn’t lose him and he felt his heart squeeze at your actions. “hey!” he said as he came up to the surface, sputtering as he laughed. “you could have killed me!” you gave him a playful shove, giggling at his statement. since when did you look this pretty under the orange lights of the sun? “yeah sure. i was holding you very, very tightly. i wouldn’t let my god tier boyfriend be swept away just like that.” you said with a wink, causing him to roll his eyes. “the sea’s stronger than you.” he said, as a matter of fact and this time, you rolled your eyes. he gently laughed, before pulling your body towards him to wrap you in a hug. “only you would be crazy enough to think that you are stronger than the sea.” he felt you laugh as he gently rested his chin on your head, enjoying the moment before him.

[♡] chan as all of the girls you’ve loved before. your hands brushed over his head, gently rubbing the soft strands of his hair in your fingers. chan looked up at you with a smile. eyes shining almost as brightly as the stars overhead. “what’s it, love?” he asked, lifting his hand to take yours which was resting on your windowsill. when chan had rapped on your window and asked if you wanted to go stargazing with him, you thought he had meant that the two of you would sneak out and then make it back in before your parents could notice. you didn’t realise he meant stargazing from your window, with him sitting in the roof below your window while you sat against the window sill. in that way, according to your loving boyfriend, if your parents came in he would just run for it and you could make an excuse of feeling hot or in case you didn’t like stargazing, you could always go back to sleep (you didn’t tell him that even if you didn’t like it, you would lie about it just to spend time with him). “nothing.” you hummed contentedly, causing his grin to widen, showing all his perfect teeth. your heart skipped a beat at just how beautiful and ethereal he looked under the moonlight, beaming at you like you were actually one of the stars. “just wondering how i am so lucky to have you as my boyfriend, considering your reputation as a…bad boy.” at this chan let out a laugh, pulling your heartstrings at the sound of it. you always loved his laughter, it being the first thing that made you fall for him and this time was no different; you could feel yourself falling for him for the millionth time. “is that my reputation in college?” he asked, eyes crinkling as he smiled back at you adoringly. you shrugged, before saying, “i don’t know. that’s what all the girls had warned me when they came to know i was dating you. and yes, i had heard those lingering rumours at the beginning. that lee chan was a total heartbreaker and had a huge list of girlfriends back in high school.” he laughed again, before gently pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. “oh well, i did have lots of girlfriends before but that was because i thought i liked them. but don’t worry, we always parted after a few dates so there's no way i could have broken their hearts.” you smiled at him softly in assurance, even though you knew the chan you were dating would never use someone's feelings. “well, at least you learnt a lot from those failed dates.” this time he let out a gasp, as though he was hurt by your statement. “are- are you saying that you wouldn’t have dated me back then? i would have loved you like this even back then!” you tapped your chin, pretending to think. “hmmm, depends. were you this cute back then?” “y/n! that’s so pretentious of you!” you laughed, leaning down to press a kiss on his temple. “i was just kidding, chan. i would love you at any point of time.”

A/N || this was the most most self indulgent thing ive ever written and yes i know some scenes are similar but i just went with the vibes the songs give me. this is also my longest headcanon (ik, it went completely out of hand) but i hope you guys enjoy it!

TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @amethyistheart @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @candidupped @ashkuuuu [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

255 notes · View notes