♪ — 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦? Lando Norris X Best
♪ — 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦? lando norris x best friend! reader ( angst ) fic summary . . . like others before you, like it's a curse, if you start out as friends, you don't finish off as friends (5k words)
( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )
2013
The three of you sat perched on a wooden platform overlooking the track, swinging your legs as the older kids raced below. The sky was a deep orange, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees, casting long shadows across the asphalt.
It smelled like fuel, burnt rubber, and the sweet vanilla ice cream sandwiches melting in your hands.
Lando, as usual, was the one talking the most. “One day, we’re gonna be better than all of them.” He gestured to the racers speeding past. “Like, properly better. F1 better.”
You chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him as you took another bite of your ice cream sandwich. “Bold of you to assume you’ll even fit in an F1 car,” you teased. “They already have you Velcroed to your kart seat because you used to fly out. What’s the plan? Glue?”
Lando scoffed, turning to you with an exaggerated look of offense. “Excuse you, I was small and aerodynamic.”
“You were a human paperclip.”
“At least I didn’t spin every time the wind hit me wrong.”
Before you could fire back, Max, who had been sitting in between you both, sighed dramatically and shoved his half-eaten ice cream sandwich straight into both your faces.
Cold, sticky vanilla smeared across your cheek. You gasped, jerking back as Lando let out a high-pitched noise of protest.
Max, completely unfazed, continued eating what was left of his ice cream. “Shut up, both of you,” he said, as if he hadn’t just committed an act of war.
You and Lando turned to each other, ice cream dripping from your faces, then back to Max.
“Oh, you’re dead,” Lando declared.
Max barely had time to react before the two of you launched at him, sticky hands smearing the rest of your desserts across his hair, his cheeks, anywhere you could reach.
The three of you tumbled onto the platform in a mess of laughter, shoving, and half-hearted kicks.
It was one of those moments you never thought you’d lose.
2018
Lando’s house felt warm, filled with the kind of easy comfort that only years of friendship could build. You were sprawled on his couch, Max sitting cross-legged on the floor, a half-finished bag of crisps between you. It felt just like old times—no pressures, no media, no cutthroat competition. Just the three of you.
And then Lando dropped the bombshell.
“I got the seat.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
Lando grinned, bouncing slightly where he sat. “McLaren. Next year. I’m gonna be a Formula 1 driver.”
For a second, there was silence. Then—chaos.
“NO. WAY!” Max shot up, grabbing Lando in a chokehold-hug, shaking him back and forth. “YOU’RE LYING.”
“Mate, I literally just said it, why would I—”
You barely let Lando finish before launching yourself at him too, arms wrapping tightly around both of them. “HOLY SHIT! LANDO, YOU’RE IN FORMULA 1!”
Lando laughed, his voice almost breathless from the force of your excitement. “I KNOW!”
The three of you clung to each other, giddy and weightless, like kids in a candy store.
When you finally let go, you turned to Max, determination flashing in your eyes. “We have to catch up, Max. We can’t let Lando enjoy the dream alone.”
Max smirked, nudging you. “Yeah, he’ll get a big head otherwise.”
Lando groaned, already regretting letting you two in his house. “Oh, great. Here we go.”
And just like that, the celebration turned into a roast session.
“Do you think they’re giving you a booster seat for the car?” you mused, tapping your chin.
Max snapped his fingers. “What about pedal extenders? Are those FIA-approved?”
“Oh, shut up,” Lando whined, throwing a pillow at both of you.
The night ended with all three of you curled up in sleeping bags on Lando’s living room floor, talking about what the future would look like. You laughed until your stomachs hurt, teasing and reminiscing, the weight of reality kept at bay for just a little longer.
By the time you got home the next morning, the high of the night before had faded into something colder, heavier—anxiety creeping up your back like the Other Mother from Coraline, whispering in your ear that time was ticking.
The metals of your dream clawed at your spine, a warning, a reminder—it’s now or never.
Lando had his McLaren seat. George had Williams. Alex had Red Bull.
And you?
You refused to let it end here. You refused to be left behind.
So you wasted no time. You spent the next few months fighting tooth and nail—getting on every call, talking to every team, pushing harder in every F2 race until your body ached from the effort. You couldn’t let up, couldn’t breathe, not until you had something.
And in the end, it paid off.
Sauber.
A vacant seat after Charles moved up to Ferrari. A chance. A shot.
The first thing you did? You invited Lando and Max to your diner—the same childhood spot where the three of you had spent countless nights in sticky vinyl booths, inhaling burgers and fries, talking about the future like it was already written for you.
They were messy eaters, as always. Lando had ketchup smeared at the corner of his mouth, and Max had a fry halfway to his lips when you slid a piece of paper across the table.
Your contract.
For a second, there was silence. The paper sat between them, your name printed at the bottom in ink that had barely dried.
Then—
“NO. FUCKING. WAY.”
Lando let out a yell so loud the entire diner turned to stare. Max, mouth still full of fries, made a sound between a choke and a cheer.
Then they both launched at you, pulling you into a hug across the table, fries and drinks nearly toppling over as they shouted over each other.
“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT—”
“OH MY GOD, YOU LEGEND—”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS—”
“We’re actually doing it,” you gasped between laughter, arms still tangled around them. “We’re actually going to be in F1 together.”
And that’s how you got kicked out of the diner.
Well, technically, Lando stood on top of a chair and yelled something about "generational talent," which got you all thrown out, but still. Worth it.
As the three of you walked out into the night air, still giggling and breathless, you and Lando turned to Max.
“Your turn,” you said in unison.
Max hesitated. He looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, guys… I’m still in Formula Renault. It’s gonna take much longer for me.”
You and Lando deflated.
“But…” you started, searching for the words.
Lando took over. “That doesn’t mean you won’t get there.” He clapped a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You can’t give up. You belong with us.”
Max forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
And maybe, at the time, you really thought it was true.
2019
The three of you stood at the edge of the paddock, the sun hanging low in the morning sky, painting the track in golden light. You and Lando were already in your race suits, helmets tucked under your arms, while Max—still very much retired—rocked a team-neutral hoodie and his signature smirk.
“I have an idea,” Lando said, rubbing his hands together. “Rock, paper, scissors. Best of one. Winner gets Max in their garage for Sunday. Loser has him for quali.”
You snorted. “Like he’s some prize?”
“I am a prize, actually,” Max deadpanned, crossing his arms.
You ignored him and held out your fist. “Alright, Norris. Let’s do this.”
Lando did the same, and Max counted you down. “Three… two… one…”
You threw out scissors.
Lando threw paper.
A slow grin spread across your face. “Oh, this is so satisfying.”
Lando groaned dramatically, shoving his helmet onto his head. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” you sang, already stepping backward toward your garage, wiggling your fingers in a smug wave. “See you on Sunday, boys.”
Max clapped Lando on the back. “Can’t believe you choked that, mate.”
Lando grumbled something under his breath, dragging his feet toward McLaren.
On race day, Max stood in your garage, arms crossed as he watched the screens, tracking your every move on the circuit. Every lap, every turn, every scrap for position. You weren’t in the points yet, but you were fighting.
And then—P11. Just one spot away.
Lando finished P12, right behind you.
It wasn’t a podium. It wasn’t even points.
But it didn’t matter.
When you parked your car in parc fermé, your hands were still shaking from adrenaline. Lando’s McLaren pulled in right beside yours, and the moment he climbed out, he made a beeline for you, shoving your shoulder.
“You beat me.”
You smirked, shoving him back. “I did beat you.”
Lando gasped, feigning betrayal. “You’re not supposed to rub it in!”
“You’d rub it in!”
“Well, yeah, but—”
You both dissolved into laughter, playfully pushing at each other until your arms were tangled together, until it turned into a hug—one filled with giddy relief and the sheer overwhelming feeling of we did it.
Max watched from the sidelines, shaking his head with a small smile. “Bunch of idiots,” he muttered under his breath. But there was pride in his eyes.
The three of you had dreamed about this since you were kids.
And now?
Now it was real.
By the time Abu Dhabi rolled around, you and Lando had both finished your rookie seasons with points under your belts.
Sure, Lando ended up 11th in the standings while you finished just behind in 12th, but neither of you cared. If anything, it made things more fun—an unspoken rivalry that never turned bitter, just fueled your banter.
“You only finished ahead of me ‘cause McLaren’s faster,” you teased as you kicked your feet up on the restaurant booth, stealing a fry from Lando’s plate.
He scoffed, snatching it back before you could pop it in your mouth. “And you only finished one place behind me because I let you.”
Max let out a laugh from across the table, nearly choking on his drink. “Yeah, right,” he said, nudging Lando. “You were sweating every time she was in your mirrors.”
“I was not sweating—”
“Mate, I was in your garage for half the season. You were definitely sweating.”
Lando rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, knowing he was outnumbered. Instead, he grabbed a handful of his fries and chucked them at Max.
That was enough to start an all-out war.
Max launched a piece of his burger at Lando’s face. You flicked a spoonful of ketchup at Max’s hoodie. Lando retaliated by shoving a napkin full of salt in your lap, making you yelp and nearly knock over your drink. The three of you were loud and messy and probably two seconds away from getting kicked out.
It felt exactly like karting days—where there were no points, no contracts, no expectations. Just the three of you, laughing until your stomachs hurt.
Sure, Lando had bonded with Carlos that year, and you had somehow managed to crack Kimi Räikkönen’s icy exterior enough to make him chuckle a few times—a massive badge of honor, in your opinion. But no matter how many new friends you made in the paddock, at the end of the day, the three of you always ended up here.
Together.
2020
You sat at the dinner table, arms crossed on the surface, head resting against them. You hadn’t moved in a while. The glow from the kitchen light made the tear tracks on your face glisten, but you weren’t crying anymore.
Lando sat a few meters away on the couch, silent. He was never silent. But now, he was staring blankly at the floor, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked, like if he loosened his grip, he might break too.
Max had quit racing. Dropped out of F3.
He had said it so easily, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he hadn’t spent over a decade chasing this dream with you and Lando, pushing through the grind of karting, junior formulas, training, race weekends, victories, and heartbreaks—all of it.
And now he was walking away. Just like that.
“I think I just need a break,” Max had said, voice steady, unreadable. “For my own sake.”
You understood. Of course, you did. You and Lando both did. Racing wasn’t just about driving fast. It was politics and pressure and expectations. It was eating, breathing, living the sport and leaving no room for anything else. And sometimes, it broke you before you even got to where you wanted to be.
Max had burned out before he could even get the chance.
And the worst part was, you felt like it was your fault.
You had been the one pushing him. Encouraging him to move up, hurry up, because you and Lando had made it, and he had to, too. It was supposed to be the three of you, like always. And in trying to keep him from being left behind, you had unknowingly pushed him over the edge.
But you didn’t say that.
Instead, you had hugged him. Tight. Like you could somehow hold everything together just by keeping him close.
“I respect your decision,” you had whispered against his shoulder, voice thick, tears in your eyes.
The crash was hard. Not in the physical sense—sure, the impact rattled you, and climbing out of the car with gravel stuck in every crevice of your suit was a pain, but it wasn’t that bad. You had worse in junior formulas.
What was bad was watching your best-ever result slip through your fingers.
P5. It was right there.
But Carlos had oversteered, lost control, and taken you with him into the gravel trap. The second you felt the hit, you knew it was over.
You had swallowed down the frustration when the engineer came on the radio. Your voice had been clipped, measured. “Yeah. I’m okay.” And then you climbed out, gave a wave to the crowd, and started the long walk back.
But the sting didn’t really settle in until you got back to your driver room. Until you sat on the little couch, helmet off, hands on your knees, staring at the ground as the DNF fully registered.
And it burned even worse when you heard that Lando had gone straight to Carlos.
Comforting him.
Lando—your Lando—was in the McLaren garage, talking to his teammate, making sure he was alright. And you?
You were here. Alone.
Waiting.
For a second, you thought, Maybe he just hasn’t gotten the chance yet. Maybe he’d text. Maybe he’d pop into your garage later, like he always did. Maybe—
Your phone vibrated. You snatched it up, pulse kicking up in anticipation.
It wasn’t Lando.
It was Max. "Shitty luck today. You okay?"
And then your mom. "I saw the crash, sweetheart. Call me when you can."
And then—Lando’s mom.
Your throat tightened.
You responded to Max first. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just pissed."
Three dots. He was typing. "Understandable. Want me to insult Carlos for you?"
A wet laugh bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t quite make it out. You swallowed hard. "Please."
Max sent back a voice note that was mostly just an annoyed rant about Carlos, and karma coming back to bite him in the ass. It helped a little.
You sat there for a long time, staring at your phone, waiting for a message from Lando. But it never came.
2021
The leaves are starting to rust at the edges. The paddock smells like oil, fresh tire rubber, and something a little sweet—like nostalgia fermenting in the heat.
The announcement had dropped that morning. Yn Ln to Ferrari, 2022. Your face, glowing in red, on every screen. Headlines scream legacy, potential, fire-in-her-veins. You’re still driving for Sauber, for now. But the future is coming in scarlet.
You walk the paddock with practiced calm. Smile. Wave. Say thank you. Cameras flash. People nod. But you’re searching. Just one face.
You find Max first.
He’s leaning on the fence by the media pens, sunglasses too big for his face, grin even bigger. “Ferrari, huh?” he says, pulling you into a hug. “About time, you fast little shit.”
You laugh into his shoulder. “Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”
“Never. I’m retiring, not dead.” He pulls back, his eyes soft behind the joke. “Seriously. I’m proud of you.”
You don’t realize how much you needed that until it lands.
You talk for a bit—he asks about the simulator work, if your uncle cried yet, what kind of pasta Ferrari serves in hospitality. You ask how he is, really. He shrugs like it’s nothing, but you see the tightness in his jaw. Max has always been good at hiding the cracks. You’ve always been better at spotting them.
Eventually, he nods over his shoulder. “Have you seen him?”
Your smile falters.
“No,” you say. “Not yet.”
He just hums. Doesn’t push. That’s Max. He always knows when not to.
It’s later, past sunset, when you find Lando. He’s sitting on the steps behind the McLaren garage, fiddling with a wristband, head low. The air smells like spilled rubber and something burnt. Maybe it’s just your nerves.
You stop a few paces away, sipping slowly from a mug. Steam curls upward—thick with chocolate and memory.
“Hey,” you say softly.
He doesn’t look up. “Hey.”
“I thought you’d come find me.”
“I’m busy,” he mutters. “Media. Strategy meetings. Debrief.”
You nod, even though you walked past McLaren hospitality earlier. It was quiet as a tomb—untouched catering trays, muted highlights looping endlessly on big screens.
“You saw the news?”
“Whole world saw the news.”
You take another sip. Your fingers curl tighter around the ceramic. Red light from the garages catches on the rim, lighting up the faded black scrawl like a bruise.
Eventually, Lando glances up.
His eyes find the mug. Something shifts in him.
“You still have that?” he asks, voice low, barely above the hum of the lights.
You blink. Look down at it like it hasn’t been cradled between your palms for the last three years.
“Of course I do,” you say. Soft. Like it should’ve been obvious.
He looks away again, jaw tightening. “Congrats,” he says, flat. Like a press release. Like a stranger.
“Thanks.”
Silence blooms between you—slow, heavy, awful. The kind that sinks teeth into soft places.
You shift on your feet, suddenly too aware of all the hairline fractures running through this moment. “Are we okay?”
He doesn’t answer.
Just lets the question hang in the air, trembling between you like a fraying rope. Too many missed calls. Too many left-on-reads. Too many almosts.
A gust of wind tugs at your jacket. The paddock hums behind you, oblivious.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say eventually. Your voice doesn’t shake. Not out loud.
You turn before he can say anything else. You don’t finish your drink.
The mug in your hand feels heavier than ever.
And he doesn’t stop you.
Doesn’t even say goodbye.
Round five. Miami. Tight corners. Bad timing. Worse luck. And then the world tilts sideways.
You don’t even know who clipped who first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. Maybe the track just didn’t want to play nice that day. But the second it happens—carbon shards, dust clouds, radio static—you know.
You know it’s Lando.
And he’s livid.
He’s out of the car before you even fully process the impact. Helmet half-off, fury full-throttle. You see him stomping across the run-off, shouting over the marshals like you murdered his race on purpose.
“You can’t even follow a damn line!” “Fucking rookie move!” “What were you even looking at?!”
You’re still strapped in. Still staring ahead. Still trying to breathe past the adrenaline choking your throat. Your hands are trembling on the steering wheel. Your visor’s fogged from the heat and the sudden shock and the way his words hit like gravel through glass.
He doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t check if you're okay. Not even a glance. Just pure, unfiltered anger, flung like shrapnel in your direction as they start pulling him back, tugging at his fireproofs like maybe he's the one in danger here.
You're not crying. Not yet. Not really. But something inside you feels loose. Wobbly. Like a tooth that's been knocked but not pulled. You're still in the damn car.
Still hearing the crunch on loop.
Still feeling the snap of the impact reverberating through your bones.
Still wondering if maybe it was your fault. If you ruined everything. If Ferrari’s going to rethink the whole thing now. If this is what everyone means when they whisper “too young, too fast, not ready.”
Eventually someone helps you out. Gentle hands. Calm voice. A blur. You don’t catch their name.
You don’t even realize your leg’s scraped until you see the blood on your suit.
Lando’s already gone.
2024
It starts in papaya.
Bright, blinding. The colour of summer and stupid hope. Of grins cracked too wide and champagne caught in lashes. Of him. Lando’s first win. Confetti cannons, arms raised, the world roaring his name like they always knew he could do it. Maybe they did.
You watch from the shadows of your garage. Your race suit still half-zipped, sweat cooling sticky on your back, hands curled in your lap like you forgot how to unclench. You watch the replays loop, over and over—Lando crossing the line, Lando screaming on the radio, Lando collapsing into his engineer’s arms like a boy who finally got his dream back after all the nightmares.
Your heart does that stupid thing again. That lurch. That slow roll in your chest like it’s reacting late to something it shouldn't care about.
You tell yourself it’s hunger. Low blood sugar. The kind of headache you get when you haven’t drunk enough water and your teammate’s spraying champagne three podium steps above your finish.
But it’s not that.
It’s the echo. This track. The one where you both crashed two years ago, where everything spilled out in smoke and sharp words and silence that never healed right. You remember the screech, the impact, the things he said—still crusted into the back of your mind like dried blood. Now he’s got a trophy, and you’ve got a lonely P5 and the ghost of something that used to be important.
Charles got P3. Your garage is down in parc fermé, hands in the air, hugging Charles like they’ve waited their whole lives for a glimpse of this kind of red victory. But you’re not there.
You stay back. Sit alone on a garage stool that’s slightly too cold, unzipping your suit just enough to breathe. Your gloves are still on. You haven’t even taken your helmet off yet.
It’s your day.
Ferrari in full blaze. Glory in red, engines singing. You did it.
First win. First star. First everything.
The moment swells, huge and holy. You don’t even feel the weight of it until you're in the cooldown room, back pressed to the wall, legs out, laughing into the still-hot air, Max's voice in your ear, full blast.
“I TOLD YOU! I BLOODY TOLD YOU!” You laugh so hard you drop the cap they gave you, joy curling up your spine like steam from the pavement. You're sticky with triumph, breathless with it.
Then the door swings open.
Lando. P2 hat in his hand, face unreadable.
He sees you, the phone still in your hand. “Is that Max?”
You nod. Smile. Hold it out without thinking, thinking maybe he wants to say join in, maybe the past can stay in the past today. You think he’ll grin and shout something stupid like he used to. That he'll be proud. That he’ll be proud of you.
He takes the phone.
And his voice stays flat.
He talks about his own race. The setup. The tyre deg. The strategy error on lap thirty-nine. Max says something back, cheerful and half-mocking, and Lando hands the phone back without another word. Doesn’t even look you in the eye.
The fizz in your blood dulls. Something inside flickers out. You sit there holding the phone to your chest like it’s a shield. Like it can still protect you from the fact that he didn’t care—not really. That your victory didn’t matter if it wasn’t his.
You stand on the podium together, the three of you. The air is heavy with bubbles and praise and burnt rubber.
He doesn’t spray you with champagne.
Doesn’t even turn your way.
You look up. Try to find the taste of triumph on your tongue. Try to taste what you’ve been chasing your whole damn life.
But all you get is the sharp sting of carbonated bitterness.
And the ache of something that used to be a friendship, now fizzed flat in your throat.
It’s the final race
Lando’s on pole. You’re right beside him. Red to his orange. Ferrari to his McLaren. Fire to his flame. The cameras catch it like it’s poetry—the two of you lined up, side by side, history written in every glare off your visors. You don’t look at him, not before lights out. Not even during the anthem. But your heart is beating like it knows something your brain won’t admit: that this is the one. The big one. The decider. Title fight. Winner takes it all.
The race is war. Brutal. A symphony of tire squeals and tight corners and elbows that don’t ask permission. You fight like hell, like the whole year’s been leading to this exact lap, this exact second, wheel to wheel with the boy who once swore he'd never fight you like this. The same boy who told you you deserved the world, now slicing across your front wing like he’d rather take you out than let you through. Every overtake is a punch to the ribs. Every radio call is static. It’s rage and glory and god, you think you might be crying under the helmet but there's no time to tell.
And in the end, it's him.
McLaren wins. He wins.
You lose.
The moment he crosses the line, the world explodes. Orange smoke, fists in the air, the kind of euphoria you used to dream about when you were kids racing on sims. Zach hoists him like a trophy himself, arms wrapped around Lando like he’s just watched his son conquer the gods. There’s champagne, there’s screaming, there’s the way the cameras chase him as if he is the sun.
You stand behind the barrier. Alone. Helmet still on. Your radio crackles in your ear but you don’t hear it. Your hands are still gripping the wheel in your mind, still tight, still aching. Your whole body is shaking and you don’t know if it’s adrenaline or heartbreak, but your eyes are burning. Everything inside you is burning.
You want to be happy for him. You do. You know what this means to him. You know how long he’s waited for this moment. You know every sacrifice he's made, every time he came second, every time he bit his tongue while others were crowned. You want to scream with him. You want to run and jump into that pile of mechanics, be lifted like you’re weightless. You want to feel like this mattered, even if it wasn’t your win.
But all you feel is the silence that comes after the music stops. All you feel is how no one is looking for you. All you feel is the absence of his eyes finding yours. The way he doesn’t search for you through the chaos. The way he doesn’t even check if you’re okay.
All you feel is alone.
You’re holding a half-finished bottle of water, and the ache in your throat is so real it makes you want to choke on it. It's not the kind of thirst you can quench, no matter how much you drink. It’s heavier than that. You’re still trying to swallow it all down when you hear someone shout from the hallway, “Hold the door!” So you do.
It’s him.
Lando.
He slows when he sees you standing there, frozen, the soft hiss of the elevator’s hum cutting through the silence. He stops short, eyes narrowing, like he wasn’t expecting you, like he thought he could just breeze past without noticing how broken the air is between you two.
“If I’d known it was you…” he murmurs to himself, almost too quiet, stepping in anyway, “…I’d have waited.”
But the words hang like smoke. You don’t breathe them in. You don’t move. There’s a moment of nothingness. No one speaks. The numbers above blink slowly, too slow, their yellow light slicing the quiet.
You can’t take it anymore. Your fingers clutch the water bottle like it might disappear if you don’t hold it tight enough. You don’t look at him. Not right away. But you feel the weight of his gaze pulling on you. Tugging at the jagged edges inside your chest.
"Are we still friends?" you ask, your voice so soft it almost doesn’t sound like it belongs to you. It’s like you’re praying, begging for something you know you can’t have.
Lando doesn’t answer right away. The hum of the elevator becomes too loud. Too big. It rattles your nerves.
Then, quiet as the night. "No."
The word lands between you two, heavy and final. You don’t move. You can’t. You don’t know what hurts more—the way his voice cracked the truth or the way it stung like acid.
You stare at the numbers above. They flicker. The 9th floor. Your floor’s the 13th. You press the button anyway, stopping the elevator dead in its tracks.
The doors slide open. It’s not your floor. But you don’t care. You step out without hesitation, without another word, like the weight of the world was too much for the small, cramped space of the elevator. You’d rather walk twenty flights, climb each one, than let him see you break. Than let him watch as your heart splinters into pieces you can’t put back together.
You don’t look back. Not once. Even though you know he’s standing there, frozen in the open doors.
It’s better this way.
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You never thought you could handle the pressure of dating an idol.
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Oh.
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He's leaving.
He's leaving you.
“Jake, wait!” You cry out, voice faltering as your hands grasp onto the hem of his sleeve, frantically grabbing up his arm to keep him from walking any further. You held onto him as much as you could, because you feared that if you let him go, he would walk right out that door and never look back. And what’s scary is that he might really do that.
“Don’t do this, y/n.” He mumbled.
His voice… When did it turn so cold? What happened? Why wasn’t there any trace of love behind his voice? Where did the soft-spoken voice that you loved so dearly go? The voice that could pull you out of the darkest days. He spoke to you like you were a stranger. Like you meant nothing to him. And in that moment, you swear you can hear your heart cracking.
He couldn’t even look at you. Why can’t he? It’s the least he could do for you right now.
“What?” you utter in pure disbelief. You were borderline baffled at what he had just said.
“No, you’re the one who’s doing this!" You emphasize by jabbing your finger into his chest.
And another tug at his sleeve finally makes him look back at you.
You hoped for tears in his eyes. A pained look on his face. Or just anything to show an ounce of that he really cared.
But all you saw was a blank stare.
You felt your heart sink, and right then, you realized he no longer cared.
It was over.
You let him go.
You could only watch him as he opened the door of your shared apartment and walked out. He walked out sparing no words. No goodbyes. Nothing. He left as if he was never there.
You watched as his figure grew distant until he was out of your peripheral view. You remembered the memories, the moments, the joy that you shared. You remembered the feeling of love that you had for him. You remembered it all, and it hurt. So bad. Heavy sobs wreaked havoc on your body as you felt the emptiness that his absence left.
.
His POV:
I can’t keep hearing her voice call my name out like that. I can’t be here for another minute. I can’t.
‘You’re a fucking coward’ I know. ‘You didn’t keep your promise’ You don’t think I know that? All of the guilt I’m feeling… it’s gnawing at me. ‘How could you hurt the only woman you’ve ever truly loved?’ Stop. Don’t do this... ‘She doesn’t deserve this’ I said–
“Don’t do this, y/n.”
Wait, no, I didn't mean that– I–
He doesn’t need to look at you to know what you're feeling. God. He knows you like the back of his hand. He can just feel your heart breaking. And it was because of him. The one person you let into your heart, who you deeply trusted with everything and anything, and he was the reason why you were currently falling apart in front of him.
He’s fighting everything that is screaming at him to go and embrace you in his arms. To apologize for what he’s doing to you. To tell you that this is not your fault. To tell you that.. he loves you too. He always has. Words can't accumulate how much he loves you. He needs you like the air he breathes-- god, he needs you more than he needs himself, he needs you more than anything. And he wants to tell you,
But he can’t.
And it's agonizing.
He’d rather have all of his fans hate him. Sending him hateful messages, and so many demeaning words because he knows that it could never add up to the pain he's giving you.
He wants to be selfish. He wants to love you in broad daylight. To take you out for romantic dinners in public. To hold you and kiss you for more than 5 seconds. But he simply can’t.
He looks back at you and wishes he didn’t because it made everything so much harder. He takes in the sight before him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears pouring out, causing your mascara to stain your reddened cheeks. Your hair was disheveled and frizzy in contrast to your normal hair which was soft whenever he played with it. You looked so tired. So.. out of it. And he wants to beat himself up for making you feel like that. This sight of you was his greatest fear. It was enough for his chest to churn, feeling like his own heart was about to implode.
But he somehow managed to keep a stone, cold face.
But right then, for a split second, he ignored what everyone said and his hand twitched just a little bit enough for him to almost reach out and hold your hand and–
You let go.
No. Why did you let go?
Wait. But isn’t this what he wanted?
Why is he hesitating?
Is this truly what he wanted?
But he can’t think for himself. Not when he’s held accountable for his other members, and for his own sake and future.
So he does the unforgivable and walks past you. Bidding no goodbyes. Not even a last look behind his shoulder. Just nothing. He left as if he was never there.
hopeless ☆ heeseung lee
☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!
Heeseung Lee was stressed.
No. He was distraught.
Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.
Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween.
From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back.
Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?
"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.
"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."
Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.
"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."
Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct.
Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush.
With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.
Wrong!
Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.
Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.
If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red.
In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?
"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."
"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."
His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."
At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.
"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."
"Shhhh! Shut up!"
When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.
Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.
"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"
It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!
Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."
Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.
"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.
"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"
Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him.
"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"
"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."
"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on.
Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."
It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.
When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.
"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"
"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."
The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"
"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."
That still didn't answer Heeseung's question.
"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.
Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."
Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."
"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"
"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.
"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.
Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]."
The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.
When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.
Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.
Heeseung was going to pass out.
"Hey, Heeseung?"
That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.
"Heeseung?"
Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.
"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.
At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.
While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.
"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"
He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...
Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.
Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.
You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"
Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.
He was really hopeless.
hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow
It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.
Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.
hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow
It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.
jay: you'll be fine trust
Heeseung frowned.
hee: stop lying to me
hee: you know how i am around her
jay: i believe in you
jay: like srsly
hee: that's blind faith
Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.
'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.
hee: are you being fr right now
jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time
jay: read the article btw
How was this guy an actual person?
hee: kill yourself
jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier
hee: DIE
Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.
At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.
Until someone yanked him into the classroom.
"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.
Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."
Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.
"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."
"Right-"
Sumin cut him off, too.
"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."
Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"
Sumin and Sieun shared a look.
"You are completely hopeless."
As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.
As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you.
"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile.
Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."
"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.
"Y-Yeah...."
"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"
He's going to faint.
When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.
"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse.
You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"
Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?
"Is that... K-Keroppi?"
"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"
Hee?
OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.
You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"
"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."
"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"
"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."
Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"
Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.
Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."
You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"
"How?"
It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!
You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."
You? Look bad? Impossible.
"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."
You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.
"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"
He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.
You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?
When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."
If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.
"A s-sweetheart?"
"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."
As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."
You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."
You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"
The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.
Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.
hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE
hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint
His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him.
After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel.
It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.
Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.
"Wait, what?!"
Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.
"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"
"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."
When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"
When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."
That's what Heeseung hoped for.
Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,
'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'
Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.
jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???
hoon: i had a stroke reading that
sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy
hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is
jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??
hee: i don't know
hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2
niki: class 2 is full of snobs
jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"
hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG
niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung
As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.
Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.
Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.
Fear makes man do crazy things.
Like walking one's crush to school.
Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.
"[Name]!" he called out.
"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"
Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."
You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."
The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.
Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"
You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."
That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket.
He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.
Not to worry!
Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.
Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.
You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders.
When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.
"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."
You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.
And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.
"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up.
Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.
"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.
A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"
Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"
The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.
"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"
Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."
You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.
"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"
"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."
It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.
"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"
Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"
"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"
Oh.
No, Heeseung didn't.
When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter.
"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"
"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm serious, hyung!"
"I second that," Jay said lazily.
"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."
Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"
The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.
"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"
His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.
"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"
Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."
Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.
"Fine!"
As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.
Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say?
'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'
????
Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you.
"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"
Come.
Give.
You.
A.
Kiss.
"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"
Marry.
You.
Yuri.
To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her.
Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!
hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(
jakey: what are you on about this time
There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.
Except, he was stupid.
But for a different reason.
"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."
After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.
"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"
Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju.
"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”
Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."
Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.
"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.
"Hey!"
"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.
"Dude, I'm right here!"
Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"
"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.
"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."
Heeseung nodded slowly.
"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"
And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you
When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.
What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!
When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look.
At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.
With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.
On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.
“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”
He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”
“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”
“Th-Thanks.”
The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”
Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”
“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”
“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”
“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”
Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”
If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart.
“Let’s go, Hee.”
The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.
Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails.
At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.
As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching.
You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.
You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.
The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot.
Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.
You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.
The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.
Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort.
When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.
Help, your eyes said.
Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.
Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.
“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”
He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.
The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.
You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.
The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.
“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”
The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”
"W-Wait, Hee-!"
Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.
"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.
"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."
Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours.
"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."
You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."
Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar.
"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.
"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact.
You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."
"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."
And so, your first date with Heeseung began.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait.
"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek.
"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.
"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."
That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.
Or, at least he thought he thought.
Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.
Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.
"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.
You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.
"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"
Heeseung combusted.
After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street.
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.
"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."
Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"
You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"
You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."
The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"
"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."
You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.
On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.
"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"
"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."
The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."
Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.
"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.
"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.
"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.
Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.
Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"
You answered, "Because he's so perfect."
Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?
A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.
"Did you mean anything you said?"
His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."
Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you.
"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you.
Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.
"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."
Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"
"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."
His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.
"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"
"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."
Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.
Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.
Oh hell no.
You were not going to let that stop you.
You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.
You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.
"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.
Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted.
"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."
With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were.
It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.
"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."
"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin.
"You know I would."
The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.
"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."
He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."
The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.
"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.
"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed.
It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.
"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"
You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"
"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."
You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"
Your friends deadpanned.
Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.
"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."
"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"
"Girl..."
Heeseung had a similar reaction.
All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.
"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.
All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session.
"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.
"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously.
Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."
"Okay, and?"
"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"
"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.
"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"
"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.
"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.
Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.
"Yes."
All of his friends groaned in defeat.
"You're hopeless."
After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.
"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom.
"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."
Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.
When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—
"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.
"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.
Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"
Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."
The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.
"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"
Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead.
The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence.
How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.
"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."
Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario.
You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right?
No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!
"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks.
You blinked at him, then smiled.
Oh, no! It's actually happening!
He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."
You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.
He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.
Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!
"Hee, I really--"
Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.
"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.
.
.
.
You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.
"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."
Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped.
"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"
Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.
After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—
Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.
His eyes shot open.
You.
Were.
Kissing.
Him.
!!!
After he confessed!
Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.
Did that mean you liked him back?
You pulled away.
Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.
But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.
A few pulses passed.
"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.
Another few pulses passed.
You. Liked. Him.
Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?
You.
YOU.
The beautiful, angelic you.
Liked him.
Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.
"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"
You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.
"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.
"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.
You grinned. "Gladly."
With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.
You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control.
"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.
You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.
"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw.
“Drive.”
Kiss.
“Me.”
Kiss.
“So-”
Kiss.
"Fucking-"
Kiss.
"Crazy."
Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.
"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.
"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder.
You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."
Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."
You quirked a brow at him.
"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."
Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.
"How about I show you?"
FIN.
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated :)
⌇ WANNA BE A WINNER 𓄹
❪ ꕤ ❫───엔하이픈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍
OR. he is used to you chasing after him . . . so what happens when the tables are turned ? && crush!en- x f!reader % hc format ( jealousy, pet names, mention of food, kissing )
𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 doesn't think twice when he sees you on the bleachers at his basketball game, because he's gotten so used to seeing you there, cheering him on whenever he scores and waving enthusiastically when he looks your way... only to find himself doing a double take when he notices you talking to the members of the opposition's team. stands there for a while with a tilted head as he wonders why it is you're giggling and twirling your hair, batting your eyelashes at whatever it was the guy was saying. and he really shouldn't have been so annoyed, seeing as you're free to talk to whoever you like... but for some reason, he finds himself purposely missing a shot and causing the ball to roll over to where you and your friends are sitting, just so he has an excuse to walk over there after your pick up the ball, before kissing you on the cheek as he takes ball back. "thanks, baby," he says, before walking away again.... but of course, not without one last cocky smirk to the other guy when he sees your flustered expression, and a promise to ask you out properly after he wins this game.
more under the cut !
𝐉𝐀𝐘, who has gotten used to seeing snacks on his desk along with little notes whenever he wakes up from his nap, feels like he's been thrown into an alternate universe when he looks up one day to find that his desk his completely empty. looks around, and asks his deskmate if you came by today, only for them to shake their head and say that they haven't seen you all day. doesn't think too much about it at first, thinking that you may be busy... only to notice that it continues a few days straight. decides to walk to your class one day, completely forgoing his usual nap, just to see if you're okay, because as much as he wouldn't admit it, anyone could tell he was worried about you. so imagine his surprise when he walks up behind you while you're talking to your friends, just to learn you've been doing it on purpose to make him miss you. crosses his arms and leans down to your ear with a smirk, causing your heart to fly out of your chest when you realise he was there all along. "okay, you win." because he really did miss you... maybe even more than you had planned.
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 probably takes a while to figure out that you're avoiding him, but only because he genuinely believes you when you say you're busy when he asks why you can't make it to his soccer game. he knows that you have a life outside of school, so he can't feel upset... but everyone (his teammates, his friends, his coach, his neighbour, his dog...) notices that he is walking around the field like a depressed puppy whose owner doesn't want to play with him, and it's all because you're not in your usual seat, cheering him on while wearing his number like you usually do. and it makes him realise just how much you were becoming his lucky charm, just as you had boldly proclaimed you would be. and so that's how he finds himself waiting for you after you're finished your classes for the day, before wrapping his arms around you in a hug, not caring about the wolf whistles and the cheers coming from all the students and teachers who stood watching around you, or the way you stuttered his name in protest because of how he was acting in public... all he could think about was how he was a fool for not making you his to begin with.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 can't remember when you haven't been next to him. from the first day of school, you were the one beside him, helping him in class whenever he had to catch up on work that he missed because of his figure skating career, saving him a seat on the bus because you knew he would always end up being five minutes late out of class. so when he comes back from a week off from school, he is visibly taken aback when you walk in and take a seat at the front of the classroom, next to some other guy who he didn't even know existed until now. doesn't buy it for a second when his new seatmate explains that you had to switch because you had trouble seeing, and burns holes into the back of your head for the entire lesson, intensifying his glare when you and your new seatmate are a tad too close for comfort, heads bumping against each other as you whisper about the answers to the questions, like you used to do with sunghoon. can't seem to catch you alone for the rest of the day, so he waits for the end of the day, when you guys catch the bus together, and makes sure that he gets there before you do... so that when you try and sit next to someone else, he pulls you down in the seat he saved next to him, before leaning his head on your shoulder, his hand wrapped around your smaller one. "stay here, please..." because you’re the only one he wants beside him, and he wants to be the only one next to you.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 knows immediately that something isn't right when you don't ask for his help with your club projects. being in the photography club, you love to remind him how he is your favourite model, and you make it painfully obvious whenever you beg him to let you take his pictures. imagine his surprise and offense when you no longer seek him out first, but some other guy in a different class, who you keep positing pictures of on the school newsletter, where you used to post his pictures instead. he instantly makes a plan to win you back and become your favourite once again, even going as far as to rock up to school the next day with blonde hair that makes everyone stop and stare... except you, the person who is usually the first to jump on the train of people to praise him. he realises at that moment that this goes beyond just his pride; he genuinely just wants to be able to make you smile like before. so imagine your surprise when you open the newsletter for the next week, to find a candid photo of you looking at your camera, hair blowing in the wind and a smile on your face, with the caption "prettiest girl in our grade" followed by, "taken by kim sunoo".
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 does not beat around the bush. so the first time you walk by him in the hallway without so much as uttering a "hi," he immediately knows he needs to confront you about it, because not a single day has passed in the time that you've known each other where you haven't jumped on him (figuratively, of course) whenever the chance arises so you can chat his ear off about something or other. and he doesn't like the feeling he gets seeing you give him the cold shoulder for reasons he has no idea about. so the next time you pass him by without saying anything, he's grabbing your wrist and tugging you down the hallway, ignoring the squeals from your friends as he pulls you into the janitor's closet. "why are you avoiding me?" he demands, frowning. but then the two of you are rendered blushing incoherent messes when you try to escape the room... only to trip on your own two feet and fall into his arms, your lips bumping against each other in the process. (but even though it's an accident, jungwon thinks that he really likes this feeling alot.)
𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈 is an absolute menace, and you are probably one of the only people in the world other than his mother that can put up with him. it really surprises people to see you follow him around, cooking him bentos and fixing his tie for him because he always fails at doing it himself, only to find out that you're not his girlfriend. ni-ki himself probably doesn't even realise how much you've been taking care of him until you stop showing your face around his classroom at lunch, and no longer nag him about his uniform or his hair being messy. instead, he's left to watch as you turn around whenever you see him, purposely changing paths so you don't bump into each other. no one is surprised when he jumps over a fence just so he can catch up to you after you try to run away after making eye contact with him for the hundredth time. you end up blurting your feelings for him before he can ask, and while you brace yourself for rejection, he's already kissing you like he hasn't seen you for months... and wondering why he never did it sooner.
© CHACONNENHA / dividers by v6que
✶ CLOUD NINE
❛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇───𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌.
⌇ 2024 ៸៸ 爱 psh 𝔁 f!ocmember › ⌗ our story ? mila experiencing cuteness aggression after sunghoon has his wisdom tooth removed. REQ! ﹆ beware... nothing ^^ ✉️ ᝰ a little drabble to get out of writer’s block (੭˘͈ᵕ˘͈)੭ ❪ THE ✦ LIBRARY ❫
MILA LOVED ALL THINGS CUTE AND FLUFFY. So of course she loved her boyfriend’s cheeks, which were all round and oh-so-biteable, especially with the slight swelling from his recent wisdom tooth removal.
“You’re so cute,” she blurted, unable to keep her hands from poking the breadroll that was Park Sunghoon. He slightly winced from the contact, and Mila retracted her hand with a hasty, “Sorry.”
Mila still remembered when he first got home from the procedure. He was loopy—well, loopier than usual—and couldn’t last a second without blurting out the most adorable rambles while clinging to her like a baby, pouting and whining whenever one of the members stole her attention. He was just so… so… munchable! (Was that a word?) And the sight of his puffy cheeks as he scrolled on his phone made her heart and fists clench with the urge to attack him (affectionately, of course).
“You’re staring,” Sunghoon said, looking over the top of his phone to where Mila sat on his bed with a pillow in her lap, neither cuddling nor coddling him, but remaining fixated on his face for the past half an hour or so.
Mila nodded. “Eung.”
She didn’t offer any explanation after that, and Sunghoon pouted before turning his attention back to his phone. When he wasn’t looking, Mila shuffled closer to him. She continued to get closer ubefore stopping when he looked directly at her.
“What are you doing?” Sunghoon asked.
“Nothing.” Mila blinked innocently. “Don’t mind me.”
Sunghoon hummed, before turning his attention back to his phone. Mila immediately took the chance to lean down and enclose her mouth around one of his cheeks—her lips covering her teeth—and applying the slightest bit of pressure. “Nom.” She giggled before pulling away, watching as Sunghoon raised a hand to his cheek.
He turned to Mila with a smile. “What was that for?”
Mila shrugged. “Just because.” She swiftly leant down to place a peck on his other cheek. “I can’t help it.”
Sunghoon chuckled. “You did it wrong.”
Mila titled her head curiously. Sunghoon smiled as he let his phone fall to his chest before reaching up to cup Mila’s cheeks in his hands. Without another word, he brought her face down to his, pressing his lips softly against her squished cheek, causing her to giggle. Then when she least expected it, he let his fangs protruded form his lip, the canine subtly pricking the soft skin, causing her to whine in protest.
Sunghoon pulled away while laughing, as Mila pouted at him. “What was that for?”
“Just because.” Sunghoon smiled warmly as he pulled her down to his chest, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “I can’t help it.”
And Mila loved all things fluffy and cute. So of course she loved this moment right here and now.
the sprint commentary from nico is precisely why i refuse to learn more about brocedes because the crumbs i do know are already enough to devastate me. because yes, nico might have spent that entire sprint trying to send telepathic signals to lewis on how he could improve so he could win. yes, every other word out of his mouth might have been about how he knows lewis can be more agressive than that, how he knows lewis and knows he can do better. but that's all commentary, that's still technically part of his job description.
but what do you mean lewis still sends christmas presents to nico's daughters every year?? what do you mean lewis, when talking about the first time he visited monaco said that it wasn't for a a gp, it was because 'a f- ...someone i know- ...a friend of mine invited me'??? the friend in question? a 13 year old nico. what do you mean that now, 25 years later, they live in the same apartment building in monaco???? what do you mean nico said 'he's still my best friend at heart'????? what do you mean lewis, when asked if he was a better driver now then he was in 2016, completely unprompted said 'yes, and better teammate' and then the camera cut to nico wHO WAS ON THE BROADCAST THAT WEEKEND AND HE JUST LOOKED DEVASTATED??????
the childhood best friends -> teammates -> enemies -> strangers -> whatever the fuck it is they've got going on now is just too strong and it would pull me in too deep and i would never escape.
Jay stupid mf
hey reddit! AITA....
r/jay_O1 - its only an app
?! SYNOPSIS. . . in which four idiotic lovesick men try to find comfort in a shitty app after their break up. but! what happens when you find their burner account?!
masterlist -> next
DELETED COMMENTS !!
-> u/nhularin 45 minutes ago
jay never introduced the guys to you because he knew how batshit crazy jake's gonna act
-> u/nhularin 36 minutes ago
jays reddit user is actually named after sunghoons steam acc
AUTHORS NOTE HI IM BACK i hope u haven't forgotten this smau 😭 im kinda crusty at writing socmed stuff sunce its been a while but i hope u enjoy it 🙏🏻
TAGLIST @kjrcrz @enluv @kyanmeai @euncsace @mrchweeee @tobiosbbyghorl @mimimovv @jayujus @mywons @i-hwa @ahnneyong @n1kimura @fakeuwus @kissezfornamjoon @oniriqxe @haechansbbg
𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh) — TRAILER
PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)
SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sargent as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?
WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, more to be added!
PUBLISHED: soon! (at least, i hope so)
WC: ??
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey comment to be added!
NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle
wrong person right time-L.HS
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!!,angst(idk how much),sex,unprotected sex,name calling,mentions of cum
wc; 4.5k words
For; @heesquared
If you could count,it has been exactly 4 years,2 months,and a solid 3 days,ever since you last saw,or heard from him, got a last proper kiss from him, got to hold him in your arms,and its been way too long since you both ignored the random show going on the background and just focus on each other’s pleasure. You, for sure missed all of it. Every small details of when you were together came rushing down your mind. It was still fresh on your mind how it all ended. You downheartedly sat in the car,with Heeseung,who was appreciating the outside view,with his hands on his lap. You weren’t sure where to look at all. Your mind was screaming for you to go and just say hi,the first words you ever would’ve spoken to him that day,but you stayed quiet,the courage inside you slowly breaking down into uncountable pieces. But it all came to a halt when heeseung spoke up,”did you eat anything yet?”. You were hesitant to answer. What could you say?that you had been on an infinite diet,scratch the times where your friends forced some nutrients down your throat because you were in a spiral of depression?that you were a total wreck?that you didn’t have the heart to eat without him? Your silence was killing him from the inside. He couldn’t help but still worry about you. Your well being. If you ate or not. If you slept soundly or not. If you still…love him or not. You being quiet at his question,made him feel like he was overstepping the boundaries which were never there when it was all lively. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable around him, this one last and first time being with you,he would rather get humiliated in a full setting rather than making you feel uneasy, He was that serious about you. So he just muttered a small ‘whatever’ and went back to sightseeing. The tears were really stinging your eye,threatening to fall.But you acted quick and grabbed a napkin from your purse,wiping the unnecessary droplets of water. The motion caught Heeseung's eyes. Oh how badly he wanted to make you sit on his lap and hold you close to his heart,knowing his heartbeat calms your cries down,and strokes your hair. However,it took all his willpower to not do that. He couldn’t do that anymore. But,it was just only going to last for an hour or two,so why not just….calm you down? Your hands were clutching onto the cloth’s material like it was the only thing you had at that moment,until,you felt a sudden warmth engulf your fisted hands.heeseung
Opting to move your hands,you couldn’t…like at all. It seems to have frozen both you,and the time around you and heeseung,who was now rubbing his thumb above your knuckles in a soothing manner. “Is this ok?” he asks,not patching his eyes up with your softened gaze yet. Of Course it is. It always has been. You can even tell me to sit on your lap and cry my heart out,I would do that. You know I would.
You just nod,and he acknowledges. You both fall into a pit of silence after that,not knowing what else to do anymore after.
When you got out of the car,Heeseung wished he could at least kiss your forehead before the last hearings were announced. And that you both would officially part your ways as what once you both believed to be called eternal love. His breathing seemed ragged and unstable as he signed the papers. He couldn’t believe this day would be left to be ever imagined,let alone be witnessed. It was all like a hallucination when he saw you signing it too…with a tad bit more tears escaping your eyes. All this happened while haera was outside,playing with your mom in the car,who was just as equally as sad as you were about this decision. But she had to stay strong for both you and her granddaughter. She waited till you got back,and drove you both home. “Do you want to go to my place y/n?I cooked your favorite” your mother offers when she sees you sucked too much into your phone. And she could tell you were looking back on the memories your phone held. Knowing you won’t reply much,she just sighed and took the matter in her own hands. Haera had been asleep the whole ride,for which she’s very energetic when you all reached home. “Here you go” your mother’s voice chimes in as she sets a plate of your favorite dish and places a fork beside it. “So….” “Hmm?” you reply taking a bite of your dinner,in which you had zero interest in as of now,mind filling in the thoughts of certain someone. “What’s your plan on going back to your place? Have you and hee talked about it yet?” At the mention of his name,you stopped eating and kept the fork down and looked at her. “We both agreed on getting our own places earlier when the lawyer was contacted and yori said she would let me binge in for a bit before i could work again and get a room for myself” “Will that be good for you?i want to keep haera with me for a while as well..” she says as she looks over your shoulder,to the child who was know focused on her crayons and drawing stick figures. A part of you wanted to say yes. Because it would definitely be not ok,in a situation like this,for heeseung to come and visit his daughter while you’re around. It was already awkward between him and you,it was more than enough to not create such an environment for your daughter. You didn;t want to face heeseung for now,and not for a month or two..you needed to get back on your feet again,you had to put yourself and your daughter first this time. “It’s okay mama,i can manage it,yori even said she hadn’t met my daughter for a while,it will be fine” you assured her the best you could. At least,it would be less awkward when yori would be with you if heeseung strikes a visit…
“And..what if he visits?” “Just tell him where i am beforehand of his arrival,it would be better” “Oh okay love”
After moving in with yori,you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If he were here,he would pick you up out of the blue,just to tell you he loved you alot. If he were here,he would not waste a single chance of stealing kisses from your lips…If he were here..he would never…hesitate to bury his cock all the way to your womb,filling you up till he was satisfied…
You still remember how faint his voice was on your years,moaning and whining,just by bottoming out in a hurry,his hips in a halt because of how tight your walls would squeeze him. He would chant your name over and over again as he would notice the bulge of his twitching length inside you. How fun it was for him to apply pressure down the place under your navel,seeing you squirm under him and scream his name repeatedly. He would never stop his assaulting thrusts till you cream his cock good,only you could milk his cock the best.and he would- Mere thoughts like this were interrupted when you heard the doorbell ring. So you went to the door,opening it,only to reveal..your ex husband..yours and his child in his grip.
Your mind went blank at the sight of his appearance. You were not expecting a surprise at this hour of the day. But to your dismay,it was never meant for you as his eyes went directly went to his daughter who was hugging her dad,almost asleep because of the journey she had to get here,to you. You and Heeseung shared the duty of taking care of your child in turns.He would pick haera up for a week or two,given that the distance between you and him got a lot wider,and would drop her off to you at the end of his shifts when he could. You did the same. Your daughter couldn’t help but giggle when he started kissing all over her face playfully. The scene alone made the butterflies wilder in your stomach. He was always gentle and kind with kids. No wonder kids like him. No wonder kids want a dad like him. Your daughter was just as lucky as you were.. heeseung asks her“be good to mommy okay?i’ll take you to a playdate next time,only you and me okay cotton ball?” Your eyes were focused on his way,and your mind kept recalling the words that just came out of his mouth. He was just being nice. He was just being nice. He was just being nice.
She nods earnestly,and earns a head pat from the man,who just smiles at her answer. “Can you wait for me a bit?i have to talk to your mommy,you’re my angel girl,we’ll go to the slides right after okay?and we can get any ice cream you’d like” he says as he pinches her nose softly,not too hard at all.Her eyes instantly lit up at the offer,she looked so happy and agreed,going back to her plushies,playing with them. The breath you had been holding out for who knows how long,eventually escapes as you see him walking towards the door…Should you ask him to stay back for a bit long?Would that be too indecent?would it look selfish for you to hold him back..?what would he think about it? “Heeseung-”
don’t say it… He turns on his heels after stopping midway,his eyes finally falling on your figure ever since he got here. It’s not like he was apparently disgusted by your presence,it was just that he didn’t have to break down right then and there,infront of you,believing that you wouldn’t be there to rub his cheeks and wipe his tears for him anymore… “Yes?” Don’t you dare….know where you are now “Would you mind if-umm..” Anything else but that…please “What is it?” Dammit he’s being all soft again..his voice…
“A k-kiss-” ………. “It’s okay if you don’t want it-i understand i was just spewing random shits-” “We can’t….it’s not like it used to be anymore…i’m sorry” Oh….if him ignoring you earlier didn’t break you,this kind of did…like..a major damage to your hopes. Your eyes started to sting alot and before you knew it,tears gushed out..And what happened to be the softest touch you could remember,it was just a tissue paper,with none other than heeseung holding it under your eyes for you…He was not the person who loved you anymore..He was trying to be different. “Please stop crying,haera might worry later and i would lose my dignity as a dad” he tried to joke it out,tried to be sure that you didn’t hear his voice breaking,and he might have succeeded but it didn’t help your tears at all. He wished he still could just at least hug you.His heart was begging for him to just go forth and engulf you into the world's tightest hug,whisper how much he missed your presence,the scent of you,your everything… You do the work for him when you finally shatter and clutch onto him,finally crying in his arms… his breathing just got shakier than ever as he just hesitantly moved his arms up,but not fully hugging you.His chin,now placed atop your head as he inhales a deep breathe,having to have gotten over a big pressure off his chest…all just for a hug he didn’t know he needed..ever since you both got divorced. When your cries seem to have calmed down,he carefully navigates his eyes down to look at you,not caring anymore if it affects him or not…he just needed to see any bits of you. He had to. Or else his heart would go crazy. The moment your red and puffy eyes went up to his face,you caught him staring right back at you. The air suddenly feels too thick to even move a muscle among the two of you. You’ve never felt this much warmth ever since he walked out of your life,leaving him to feel the exact same. But this all was wrong. “Even if you look at me like that,I cannot” he says while holding you firmly. “Just once,i promise i won’t ever bother you about it……please” Bother….it never had been any ounce of what you just claimed to be as a bother. He would kiss you in a heartbeat,you knew that too. But the weight on his heart felt a lot heavier. It was just a kiss…but was it like old times?not at all…he couldn’t see it like that at all. You’re existence and the recalling of the divorce was distracting him from everything he had. “Fine..but only once.okay?after that,i leave” “H-hmm,okay,thank you for consid-” He captures your lips in the most delicate and the softest way possible,still worried if he crossed any non-existent boundaries. But the way you can feel the heat of his body radiate to yours completely,you don’t know what to focus on anymore. His lips had always felt this moist and soft whenever you both shared a kiss. It would always end up with you being on his lap. Your hands,as if it was a reflex,worked their way up to the back of his neck,pulling him closer. Heeseung didn’t seem to care anymore,finally having your lips on his after a whole year,and he felt like he could kiss you forever,hold you close like this,rip the paper into pieces.
His hands started lifting up your cardigan,feeding his fingertips in to feel the bare skin underneath the layer of clothing,making you sigh as you felt his cold touch on your waist.
Somehow, he can’t help but ponder silently about all the times he had been craving nothing but your touch,only for you to not be there,crave how you would sit on his lap and paint his face all red with your newly bought lipsticks,telling him how much you loved him,adored him,and cherished him,only for you to leave all that and walk on a path of your own. And now,he has a stable life now,he knows how to balance his work life and spending time with his daughter,he was contended with how his pace was,he was recovering from everything……
Unfortunately for you, his mind quickly took charge of him as he abruptly pushed you away. He couldn’t be in here..with you anymore without getting carried away. He needed to be out of here as he started to feel the urge to completely turn into a putty for you.
“I should go now,i’m sorry for getting carried away” he says as he turns to leave Please stay hee…I need you so much…
As if he had telepathic powers,his instincts told him to run back to you,and he did. “Fuck it” he hastily ushers as he basically runs to you and lightly picks you up while connecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss. He couldn’t take it anymore.His lips work wonders as he swiftly licks your lower lip making you gasp,easily earning access to slide his tongue in. He makes sure to devour every corner of your mouth,not caring about the way your teeth clash. He doesn’t give you enough time and backs you up to the nearest wall.
Gently, he places you on your feet,your small frame now caged in by his broad one. His eyes looked down to where your thighs were rubbing together in anticipation. “Fuck look at you”
“We need to go somewhere more private” he says, not even bothering to guide you to the nearest bathroom he could find. He leans in and kisses you again,a bit harder this time,hands instantly moving down to grope your rear cheeks,caressing them. You moaned at the contact of his perverted touch against your skin but you craved this so much….
“Needed you so much too angel,been such a mess ever since…do you feel that way too?” “Yes hee,been wanting this for so long…couldn’t think of anything else but you” you confessed,your words earning a chuckle from the latter.
“What was I doing to you in your mind,hmm?”he asks as hands are now under your cardigan again,snaking up to your chest. His hands molded perfectly with your breasts as he gave them a light squeeze. Moaning at how good it felt,heeseung looked pleased by your reaction. He wanted to do more,and he is going to do more before he starts regretting where he is right now. “Gonna fuck you so good” he says as he unbuckles his belt and ties your wrist with it,behind your back. The action sends your mind in a frenzy as you felt his tongue licking a fat strip on your neckline. He dragged it down to your collarbone,sucking onto the bone and showering the area with his love bites. “Tastes just like it used to– fuck can never get enough of this” the taste of your skin melts in his tongue as he completely lets himself go. His hands quickly drop down to grab your hips and turn you to face the mirror in front of you. The sight was oh so pleasant,your pussy gaping and clenching on nothing but air,waiting and begging to be filled,stuffed,abused,reddened. You would take anything from him. His fingers,his tongue. But nothing would satisfy you the way his cock does.
“Pretty girl tell me where should i put it?guide me” his voice got more raspy as he looks at the mirror,eyes totally enchanted by the way your face looks so wreckable. He could just stuff your mouth with his cock but that's not what you wanted now,he knew very well how to please you…how to have you begging for him to do more than just using your face to get off.he knew you better than yourself.. “A-ass,want it in my ass–” you whined out as you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down from your butt hole and your leaking hole,teasing each one at a time,watching you hiss whenever he playfully pushed in the tip on either. “As my girl wishes”
Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion in your very small and tight hole,his raging cock penetrating past the tightness and the heat hugging his meat deliciously. It was so much that he had to halt his hips,feeling like he would be pushed out before he could even bottom out properly. “Never been so tight,fuck– you’re gonna be the death of me i swear–loosen up a little” his lips purse as the pleasure of your walls smear over his senses. And when he finally pushes in more of his girth,he can’t help but moan when you suddenly open up for him,taking him to the brim. “That's it,open up for me–let me give you what you want”Your mind was all over the place as he started moving,grabbing a hold of your hips. He pulled you back into his length,your hole getting wider each time he thrusted up. It was something in you,you didn’t know,needed to be fucked like this,with the chances of being caught by anyone,yori or even your daughter. His hips jerked up to yours,on loop as he led his hands up,bending down on you to capture your nipples in his torturing hold. He flicks it over and over. You can’t help but moan louder each time he rams right into your spot,so fucking perfectly he could die for this to happen over and over again. You looked so beautiful like this. All blown out,so pretty just for him. His palms move to your thighs,feeling the soft skin as he uses them as a leverage to plough into you even more. In between your thighs,your slick coats his dick to the right amount as it slides back in and out with the urgency to feel you even more. Heeseung thought he was living in a dream. You were chanting his name like he was doing yours. He moves your bended figure to the closed door of the bathroom. Your palms now flat against the wood as he fucks up to you. His eyes watch you lovingly as you try to blur out the obscene sounds coming out of your mouth but he smiles when he realizes the sounds down there are never doing you justice. “Be fair baby,let those tiny gasps out,come on”he demands, issuing a harsh thrust which aims enough to form a small bulge in your stomach. He almost succeeds in making you moan out loud. Your eyes roll back as he does so,telling him to go faster. He turns you around and rakes your thighs up with a bruising grip around them,lifting your ass up a bit for him to shove it in more easily. That for sure would leave a great noticeable mark. And you’d love that. Wrapping your legs around his torso,all while his dick still inside you,he wastes no time in repeating his motions again. But only this time,his lips are desperate to find yours. Biting any piece of flesh his lips find,he keeps licking and sucking your lips. Giving you the messiest and dirtiest makeout you could ever have. Strings of saliva connect you both as he takes a moment to breathe,mouth open,eyes bewildered by your appearance. He couldn’t stop sliding it in,he got meaner about his thrusts as each second passed by,making you moan uncontrollably as you just stay there,being held and fucked dumb by your ex-husband. He’s so good with his hips that you don’t even notice his fingers teasing your other hole. “Think you can take it?bet you can’t and i don’t care if you can or not”he whines as he forcefully pushes in two of his digits in your cum hole,the thumb being left out to rub the nub. He does it so effortlessly,fuck your ass and penetrate your pussy at the same time– it all was too good for you Your starts clenching on his fingers and his dick,was as equal with it’s pace,not slow at all. He was so close,he could feel it. Eyes in a trance as it only saw fuck her fuck her fuck her soo good she can’t stand for days. You cried out at how good he was being to you. Giving you his cock,abusing your cervix like he owns it,slapping your ass countless times…
“Baby i’m gonna cum–it’s too warm and tight f’me–shit y/n!” his whines got louder as he felt his high approaching. “Could fuck you like this every goddamn day if you’d let me–feels like heaven in here–fuck”
You could only moan at how precise he was with what he wanted,and he wanted you to shower his dick with your juices. He wanted you to lose your mind over how good he made you feel. He wanted you to cum so much that it would push his cock out of your hole itself. It was getting too addictive in there,he wanted you to make sure you were left all used,broken and only for him to fuck anytime and anywhere. After all you were his fucking woman. “Should i cum in your ass?your back?your mouth?your pussy?” “cum in my mouth please–” “C’mere” he quickly pulls out and brings your face down to his cock,forcing it in your mouth. Your jaw hung only loose at his demanding hands. He fists his cock,stroking it fast,the tip flush pink and ready to shoot his seeds right down your throat. “Take it take it-take all of it-fuuckkkk!” Hot spurts of cum get in your mouth,your face and your chest as he keeps jerking off to his hands,chest heaving up and down slowly as the post orgasm breath gets taken in by the both of you. His eyes look warily,of any signs of negativity in your face,noting that there’s none,he collects his pants and retrieves his belt from your wrists,eyes not surprised when he catches a slight bruise over there. He felt sorry for hurting you like that…or even when he mindlessly took you by your ass… But it all was a one time thing-you just wanted any type of solace,and he only gave you what he could. He prayed you won’t take the words he said prior to him finishing in your mouth,to heart. He would feel guilty if he was the reason your feelings resurfaced again,he couldn’t risk that to happen. His eyes watch you now,but there only a hint of sadness in them now,as he knew if he walked out,it would be only him again…But that’s what is the best for the both of you. Things like this happen hee,just walk out….it’s ok
Millions of words could have been said to each other if only he just cupped your cheeks and told you he loved you always and forever,if you replied with a kiss on his cheeks,letting him know you both would work it all out again. It would have even worked out if you both had cried it out to you heart’s content,being in each other’s arms..But he was scared..scared that it would end up happening again. One time was more than enough to shake him up completely as a man.
Haera reminds me of you so much….it hurts,love The only words which made up to your ears before you watched him leaving you alone….again,was
“I-i will be back next week,y/n”
THE GREATEST — TRUE BLUE
[ part one / masterlist / requests are open ]
☽｡⋆ part 2 of THE GREATEST. he tried to live without you, but how is one to survive with a broken heart? a story based on TRUE BLUE by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader (could technically be read as a stand-alone)
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, hints of fluff (?) 𝄞 4.1k words
❝ Lights out, you’re not here holding me ❞
Lando had never before felt the way he did the day you left him. Seeing you walk through that door, intending to never come back to him ever again, it pained him. It took him too long to realize how much he hurt you, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He swore it wasn’t on purpose, but when his friends told him that also the third girl he had brought along since you broke up with him resembled you in a way, he stopped denying. There was no use. The guys knew, the internet knew, he knew that he wasn’t yet over you. And he thinks he never will be. You left an empty place in his heart, a place that would forever be reserved for you only and you only. No matter how hard he tried to find someone else, no one would ever be able to replace you.
The girl he brought to the first race after the summer break was long forgotten already.
At first, everyone around him believed him when he said he felt happier now without you. But the moment he went back to his old ways, the heartbreaker they’ve known for so long, they realized he wasn’t. The girls always looked like you. He only rarely smiled anymore and he couldn‘t care less about his friends‘ relationships, even going as far as faking a gag or simply not coming to hang out with them at all. He said it’s because he needs to focus on racing. They knew it was because of you. Lando was yet to tell them why the relationship ended. He’d rather crash his car and DNF in every race for the rest of his life than to ever have to talk about the night you left ever again. He felt embarrassed and bad and was so terribly regretful. Only his parents knew the whole truth. He told them with tears caressing his face just like you once did, and seeing the disappointment in their eyes, he felt his heart rip apart even more. They had loved you so much, only waiting for the day he would finally go down on one knee for you, and now he messed it all up.
If he could just go back and make it all alright. Make you feel unconditionally loved wherever you went, make you happy, keep you happy. He would change it all if he just had the chance, but he knew you deserved better. Maybe one day, he could be better again.
He is ready to give up the very thing for you that had made you leave him that night if you’d ask him to. Racing would never again mean as much to him as you, though broken up, still do to him.
He was currently seated in his McLaren, waiting for the lights to go out so he could try his very best to overtake max at the start already. He should have his mind on the track. He shouldn’t think about you, not here. But like always, he couldn’t help it. He hoped to see you in the stands once he was able to get out of the car again. He hoped to see you wave and smile at him, run into his arms and let him kiss you all over, do all the things he had failed to do so many months ago. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He believed anyway. The lights went out and the cars began moving. He tried his best, he always did, but he wasn‘t afraid to lose anymore; for what was it worth to win a race when he had faced the greatest loss of them all already?
❝ I count every tear down my cheek instead of sheep ❞
You couldn’t sleep. You could never sleep while he was racing. Especially when he was on the other side of the world, which is why you went with him last season, and also at the start of this one. Maybe you never should’ve. Long distance was hard, but you managed. He felt farther away when he was still sleeping next you every night. At least when he didn’t send you off to sleep on the couch.
You tossed and turned in your sleep, but you didn’t dare to turn on the TV. It’s been months, you should try to live without him. Without seeing him. Without feeling for him. His races had nothing to do with you, neither did the outcome. And god, if he wins and you have to watch him kiss someone else again you might as well just take his racing car and drive right into the nearest wall. He’s so far away and yet, it didn’t make you love him any less. You huffed, fear slowly building up inside of you. You knew you shouldn’t do this, you had to wake up early tomorrow and really, it wouldn’t be that bad to miss a race once or twice, but you couldn’t help it. Reaching for the remote, your eyes were flooded with tears and your heart stung like never before when you saw him driving out there. You were rooting for him nonetheless. Just months ago you had watched the races from inside the McLaren hospitality, but now? All alone in your bed, anxiously following his every move. You would never fall asleep like this.
❝ Sleepwalk, find myself on your street. Three knocks, ring the bell, then I leave ❞
And there you stood high up in the stands the next weekend, head hanging low as you didn‘t want any fans of him recognizing you, back in his territory. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but your eyes kept following him around the paddock and didn’t leave him even while he was doing the quick interviews he had to do on his way there. And honestly, it kinda felt like home. Attending the races. Being near him. Being with him. You missed it more than anything else in the world, and you felt pathetic for it. He hurt you every way he could, and still, he didn’t hurt you enough to make you hate him. And you really wanted to hate him.
You went to the race together with one of your friends from uni. You bonded over formula 1 and your shared passion for the sport and quickly became very good friends. However, she had to leave soon, moving to another city for a better starting point for her career. Hence, you decided to save some money and go to a race together for the last time; for now, at least. You still remember the way she looked at you when you told her you were with Lando. The way you swooned over him to her, and the way you cried your eyes out when it all ended. You really thought you‘d be able to spend the rest of your life with him, and now all you had left of him were memories. She‘s known you long enough to immediately notice your longing after him the moment your eyes locked onto his dark brown curls. Your heart fluttered and it made you nauseous. One day this would stop, right? Your feeling must fade at least sometime, or was this all just wishful thinking? Could you not just get over him like everyone else got over their exes and start dating someone new?
Your heart ached. He was so close, not out of reach anymore, not on the other side of the world anymore, but still, there was no way of getting back to him, the crash barriers and the grandstand keeping you away, and it felt like the end of your relationship all over again, with him on the track and you sitting and waiting patiently on the sidelines, always at least an arm length distance between you two. You shouldn’t even want to get him back. You left out a sigh as he walked into the McLaren hospitality, finally out of sight. But still not out of mind.
Your friend huffed next to you, and finally decided to try and convince you to talk to him after the race while you were still in the same place, to get closure at last. You knew it must annoy your friends and maybe even your family that it was so hard for you to just move on. They put effort into understanding, but still, Lando wasn‘t good to you, at least not in the end. Many would treat you better, but you didn‘t seem to care. You quickly shook your head no, telling her how he probably didn’t want to talk to you and that catching him after the race would be nearly impossible, with bodyguards and tons and tons of interviewers and cameras around him.
The conversation ended soon after, as the lights went out and the drivers hit the gas. You pondered for a second, reconsidering your friend‘s suggestion, a weird feeling building up in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t even be here, maybe you should *leave* after the race and never look back. But to your dismay, every sense in your body was telling you to stay.
❝ I try to live in black and white but I’m so blue ❞
The race went well, but he didn‘t really care. Of course he was happy, the whole team was euphoric for their two drivers who secured place 2 and 4, huge smiles plastered on their faces. Once he was done with the post-race interviews he left to go back and get some rest inside his apartment, at least until the others came around to drag him to the afterparty, slandering from one club into the next one.
Everything felt so lonely without you. His bed was cold even when he was hidden under his blanket, and the dining room was nothing more than a reminder that he wasn‘t spending his evenings with you. Watching TV got boring. Everything got boring. He didn’t even know why he lost you anymore, he didn’t know what the hell it was that made him believe you weren’t made for him, making him believe there was actually something more important than you in this lifetime. You haunted his every thought, and even though he truly only wanted the best for you, deep inside him, he wanted you to still need him as well.
He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gently buttoning up his shirt like you used to do, always leaving the 3 highest ones unbuttoned. He missed your touch, your eyes looking up at him and your hands always reaching for his. His arms would be wrapped around your waist and his head would be leaning on your shoulder, sneaking a few, small kisses up your neck as you changed your earrings for the night, the imagine of it painted onto your fast beating heart as you stood in front of the full-body mirror in your apartment, finishing up your accessoires. You wore a blue dress that covered your thighs, not reaching your knees. It hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your features. It used to be Lando‘s favourite, but you had no other alternative, not having brought any other dresses. Your friend insisted on going clubbing anyway, desperately wanting to finally get him off your mind for one night at least.
The other drivers were loud and happy and drunk and Lando sat next to them, staring at his already empty glass. He knew how this would go. At some point, either the drivers or one of their girls would tap his shoulder, saying they have a friend they think he would really like, and if he would like to be introduced to her. He would agree so they would finally keep their mouths shut, he would talk to the girl. Maybe they would kiss if he drank enough. Maybe he would take her home. Maybe he would think about you the whole time, maybe he would accidentally call her your name. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and would be happy that she‘d left, content with it only being a one-time thing and not meaning anything.
Because, in the end, nothing meant anything without you.
He pretended to laugh at the jokes of his friends, but really, none of this was fun to him. These nights were nothing more than a constant reminder of how he used to have his fun while you were waiting for him at home, cold and sad and alone. How could he be so stupid and leave you alone all the time? He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. He yawned, very obviously not enjoying the party. Yes, it was nice seeing his friends so happy, the mood wasn’t as tense as it was around and on the track and the people inside the night club were vivid, dancing and drinking, seemingly having the time of their life downing countless beverages, but still, the happiness didn’t reach him.
“Dude, I think your girl‘s here.“ Oscar pushed him slightly, two vodka bull in hand for himself and Lily. Lando didn’t pay him any mind and rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for talking to any girl that isn’t you at the moment. Couldn’t they just give up? He wasn’t ready yet for someone else, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be with someone that isn’t you at all. Ever. Instead of arguing with Oscar about how he didn’t want to hear from any other girl right now, he went to get another drink as well.
He pushed through the dense crowd of people, navigating through the cacophony of laughter and piercing yelling that seemed to echo from all directions. The deafening loud music blasting through his ears made it difficult to focus, and the harsh sound of glass clunking together only added to it. The colorful LED lights rapidly switched from green to red to purple to yellow in a matter of seconds, creating a dizzying light show that overwhelmed his vision. This sensory onslaught of sounds, sights, and sensations overstimulated his senses, making each step forward feel like an effort.
Finally at his destination, he waited for the waiter or waitress, he wasn’t quite sure, to get his order. He wasn’t certain what his plan was that night at all. Sleeping around or not, you wouldn’t stop haunting his mind anyway, so was it really worth it? Getting drunk and trying to make his nights feel less lonesome? Or should he just wait and really focus on his carrer again until maybe, one day, you’d come back?
He ignored the possibilty of you not coming back at all.
He let his eyes wander around the scene unfolding in front of him, occasionally making eye contact with random girls who winked at him and tried to get his attention, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Frustration started to bubble up inside of him as the wait for his drink seemed to go on for forever, until suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.
Lando was certain that in a room full of people, he would always be able to notice you first. He pondered if it was you whenever he‘d walk by a girl with the same hair colour as you, immediately dismissing the thought when he saw a face that didn’t match yours just a second later. But this time, it was different. The hair ressembled yours without a doubt, and of course he remembered the dress he had bought for you so long ago; never once had he been able to keep his hands to himself when you wore it. The height matched you perfectly as well. But it couldn’t be you, right?
Oscar‘s words replayed in his mind and he finally understood what he meant. Who he meant.
It was really you.
You tried to enjoy the party, but you really weren’t doing so well. Your friend had left you near the bar, thinking you’d be hitting it off with a guy you’ve been talking to for some time, but that wasn’t the case. he left just five minutes after to go home, asking if you’d like to come with him. You denied, but your friend was nowhere to be found, having found someone in this club herself. It was scary being alone in a club full of drunk, intoxicated people, even more so when you sensed someone staring at you from behind. You didn’t have to worry about things like that when you were still with Lando, with him always stuck to your side, a protective arm hanging around your shoulders. you shuddered at the thought, and dared to turn around to find the very person who was looking at you so steadily.
And then you locked eyes.
The world suddenly went quiet. All the chaos, the noise, it all faded into the background, no sound to be heard other than the synchronised, rapid beating of your heart. It seemed as if the only two people in that room were you and him, only the void surrounding the two of you. The LEDs turned blue, engulfing you and him, the light accentuating your features and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, stuck in a trance of what this could mean for him in the future; what this could mean for you both. Time seemed to stand still. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to tell you how much he missed you, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. His breath hitched and so did yours, all the yearning, all the longing hitting you and him at lightspeed.
You walked towards him, each step filled with electricity. The tension was palpable, his mouth agape as you stood in front of him, only centimeters away from closing the gap between you. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize, so many things he wanted to make right, but he didn‘t dare to say things first, afraid too scare you off. The last thing he wanted is for you to leave him again.
“I didn‘t know you‘d be here, thought I‘d seen Oscar but I wasn‘t sure,“ you started, stumbling over your own words, laughing awkwardly, then biting your lip right after. He noticed, because you always did that when you were nervous; you’d done it too when you broke up with him. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but that would be a lie, one he could look right through of. You just couldn‘t process actually being in his presence again.
“You still wear the dress?“
“It‘s, uhm, quite pretty, so yeah.“ You nodded along to your own words, gulping at the tense and awkward silence right after, looking down at your shoes, the sight of him in this light still not leaving your mind. Maybe he didn‘t even feel the same way, maybe he didn‘t even want to talk to you. Maybe you already made a fool of yourself when you made your way over to him, maybe you really should‘ve just stayed at home. But at the same time, this is what you‘d hoped for this whole time. To finally see him again.
“I‘m so sorry for what I did to you, y/n, please believe me. E-Ever since you left, I couldn‘t stop thinking about you. Not once. I tried to move on, y‘know, would probably be better for you as well, ‘cause you deserve better than how I‘ve treated you at the end and I don‘t want to have to put you through that again but I just- I miss you so much, I don‘t know what to do! And now you‘re here and I swear I‘ve been waiting for a moment like this and-,“ he stopped for a second, heavy and shaky breaths filling the silence, „If giving up racing means you‘ll let me come back to you, I‘ll do it.“
Your teary eyes widened and you looked up at him again, staring into his. One could take it as an empty promise. But you knew better than anyone else that Lando wasn’t one to joke about racing, ever. “Lando you can’t just- I- I mean, racing? It didn‘t work before Lan I just- don‘t give up your dreams for me, please? You shouldn‘t, you have so much ahead of you still,“ you sighed out, every single part of your body overwhelmed like never before.
But Lando was certain. He traced every yet so small feature of your face and body with his eyes, and he knew in that exact moment that, no matter what, he could never lose you again. Not this time. Not when fate hat somehow brought you together once again, giving him a second chance to make it all better. Question was now if you’d let him have that second chance too.
He lifted his hand to gently wipe away the tear running down your cheek, having you lean into his familiar touch. “I’ll do it for you”, he said, and that was when you broke apart, legs feeling numb and wobbly suddenly. Tears streamed down your face as you took another step forward and he wrapped his arms around your body out of reflex, gently placing soft kisses on top of your head, tearing up as well as your cried into his chest.
Maybe it was bad, maybe you shouldn’t feel like this again, but you’ve never once after the breakup felt as at peace with yourself and your as you did now, even if you were in a loud and busy club, surrounded by drunk and high people. You managed to push them to the back of your mind, the familiar scent of Lando’s perfume calming your senses. It felt like home. Maybe he really did owe you something, and though you once were anguished because of it, you wouldn’t ever deprive him of the joy of racing. There would be a way through it without having to abandon any of your or his dreams. There must be if you want it to work out, and you were sure that this time, it would. And so was he.
Lando took you home with him that night, not before you shot your friend a quick text message, afraid she might think you were kidnapped or whatnot. You knew that you’d have to fly home again in two days. He knew that too, but there was no need to rush things anyway. You were still his and he was still yours, and that’s all that mattered for now. It’s gonna be weird explaining this to your friends and your family, but neither of you minded it as long as it meant you could be with each other again. You would have to talk things through and see how you’d manage the race weekends and the events and the media - but not now. Now, with you calmly and lightly snoring in his arms, he didn’t care about any of that, simply content with having you again.
He promised you before you drifted off into your tranquil slumber that he will make it right this time. He will be there for you no matter what, he will defend you and take you with him and show you off and love you like already should have done all these months ago. This time, he will put in the work and the appreciation and the effort, and then, you will finally be able to be the greatest.
❝ I’d like to mean it when I say I’m over you, but that’s still not true. ❞
taglist for part 2 of the greatest : @mrs-saturday @tylerstacobell @angeltroian @acesbakery @directioner5life @malynn @escuellasceramicdollie @strangetoadroadbat @norrisdriver @aliceisnuts @carlando4 @f1fantasys @no-144444 @belivisa @callsignwidow @cruzgrecia @ifsoniacouldfly @wony6ung @hurtblossom @faeriepigeons @interlagos @xnatqq @fanficweasley @youreintheclubb @chaimaarouaine11 @idgasb @cruzgrecia @madstxo @trisharee (basically everyone who commented vv sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!)
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