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@sanarin
Happy birthday my other half 🤍
“People said the world has changed. But I promised, between you and me, it will always be the same”
Happy birthday, Min Yoongi. I really can’t wait for the day you can come back and spend time with us like we used to. Almost two years have passed but i promise nothing has changed between us 🥹🫶🏻
I miss you and I love you so much, Min Yoongi.
May your trials end in full bloom. Happy birthday!
moments like this
Daniel ricciardo x reader
warnings: none. only pure fluff and short
You sat on the floor recording little videos of Daniel as he sat down beside you with your daughter in his lap playing peak-a-boo with her, her little laughs and giggles filling up the room, make yours and Daniel's heart warm up at the little sounds "say hi to the camera love" Daniel looked at you and waved holding up your daughters hand as well waving to the camera, causing her to giggle again. Daniel handed you her, while grabbing your phone out of your hands and now recording the both of you.
"she has your sweet eyes Dan" you said cradling the little girl in your hands, "she's adorable" Daniel chuckled softly enjoying this little moment between the three of you, and recording every little thing so she had something to look at when she got older.
"you're adorable babe" Daniel pulled you closer to him, putting down the camera and now enjoying the silence room as your daughter fall asleep in your arms. "and a great mother to our wonderful daughter" he gave a kiss to your temple, while laying your head on his shoulder.
"I don't wanna move" you yawned sleep over taking your body as you both sat there. Daniel grabbed the blanket from the couch behind you and threw it over the both of you. "Then don't, just sleep here. I'll watch over her for you" you nodded your head, sleep overtaking your body as you closed your eyes.
“is the pillow wall really necessary?" with daniel
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader
Words: 997
A/n: this is my first time writing for Daniel I hope I did him great 🥺
“How do you feel?”
“Awful?”
Even if Daniel gave you a mean look for laughing, to which you immediately apologized, you knew he wasn’t really mad at you. Not when he was still smiling at you like that.
It all started yesterday evening. You’ve been on holiday for three days now and everything was going well. You were visiting the city, doing some tourist stuff as if your boyfriend wasn’t a popular F1 driver. But last night, after you came back to the hotel from the beautiful restaurant you went to, Daniel started to feel bad.
“Nothing too serious, love. I’m sure” he said. But how could you trust about this not being too serious when your tall goofy boyfriend had glassy eyes and was lying in bed like a sick child.
“I will feel better tomorrow, I’m sure!” He said. Needless to say that he didn’t feel better today. It was even worse actually. He spent the whole day in bed, sleeping…not eating, so sleeping again.
You called a doctor to examine him and went out to buy all the medicines he needed. And when you came back, you found your boyfriend sitting in the middle of the kitchen. Clearly not where you left him, earlier.
“But less awful now that I took a shower.” he smiled. You didn’t say anything about being scared of him getting up by himself when you weren’t there, scared that he could have fall and hurt himself. How were you supposed to help him if you weren’t there? But if you said anything, Daniel would laugh and said that you always imagined the worst. That you should think about how hot he was in the shower. You could almost hear him say “the fever and the water? Hot mess baby.” And you laughed at this.
“Stop laughing about me being sick!” Daniel complained, folding his arms and sulking. You couldn’t resist walking to him and taking his face between your hands.
“I’m sorry baby, I’m not making fun of you I promise.” You leaned towards him to kiss him but Daniel stopped you by putting his hand on his mouth. “That’s rude, I said I was making fun of you!”
And now he was the one laughing. “I know. I just don’t want to contaminate you.” You didn’t question it. It made sense. And knowing Daniel, he was really considerate and would make sure you were fine.
So no, you didn’t question it for the rest of the evening. Even if he didn’t feel well, Daniel insisted on staying with you. You ordered diner, watched a movie on tv without understanding a thing because it was in the local language . It was something you loved to do when Daniel was still traveling for the race. You would watch a movie you couldn’t understand and made each other a summary of what you think happened. With Daniel, you always ended up crying from laughing.
You noticed how he was starting to fall asleep. You risked being rejected again and brought a hand to his hair. You brushed it softly until he turned his head to you. “We should go to sleep, Dani.” Always we. Never you. There were no world where you would stand by his side. Because he would do the same with you.
He didn’t protest and accepted the arm you offered to walk to the room. And you realized that you were gone longer than you thought when you went out. Because Daniel clearly didn’t just took a shower.
“Dani?” You asked, as if he wasn’t just standing next to you.
“Yes my love?”
“Is the pillow wall really necessary?"
You had a hard time containing your laugh again. But somehow, while you were gone, Daniel managed to build some kind of pillow wall to separate the two sides of the bed. You guessed he asked the hotel for more pillow because there were not there before. You can tell from their colours, they don’t match the rest of the bedroom.
“I told you, I don’t want to make you sick. So even if it breaks my heart,” he put his hand on his heart to emphasize this “I will miss your arms for the night. Or until I get better.” And some people wondered why you chose to love that man. “And don’t say no! I put the few strength I have to build this.”
“You should consider becoming an architect.” You looked at him with a big smile.
You both laid on your side of the bed, trying to not destroy the wall but it was harder than you thought. As much as you laughed about this crazy that could only come out of Daniel’s mind, you were already missing his arms. What was the point of sharing a bed with the man you love if you can’t enjoy falling asleep with your head on his chest?
“Daniel?” You asked with a small voice. There was no chance he was already sleep…yet this man was full of surprises. But you heard him moving next to you.
“Yes?”
“What happens if I would rather be sick than sleep without you tonight?”
You waited a few seconds. Before he put a pillow away, the one next to your face. That’s how you noticed he moved to face you. “You’re sure?”
“Let’s be sick together my love.” You said, taking another pillow and throwing it away. You both destroyed the wall and threw the pillows all over the place.
“Too bad you’re sick, we could have done a good pillow fight.” You told him once you were finally laying against him, your face on his chest, an arm over his torso, his hand on your hair. You would risk anything to be in this place, even being sick.
“Well, we have these pillows for the rest of the week so…”
That was how you learned that all you needed in life was Daniel and a good amount of pillows.
Only Us
daniel ricciardo x ofc
word count: 5222
thank you to the lovely @leclerc-stan for always being there and @strawberrysainz and @forteafy for convincing me to post this 🫶🏻 i haven’t posted any of my writing in a while but with some encouragement and support i have built up the courage again. i hope this is okay. 🤍
tw: nausea, vomiting, pregnancy tests
Sienna felt like shit.
Her hands trembled as she dragged her suitcase up the front path, trying to ignore the sweat beading on her hairline. As expected for the Australian summertime, it was as hot as hell, but she had been sweating and nauseous even in the depths of the air conditioned airport and the taxi.
Daniel had, of course, offered to come and collect her from the airport, but she refused, knowing that they were hosting his parents for lunch that afternoon. She wouldn’t deny Daniel the rare, quality time with his Mum and Dad for anything, no matter how much she wished he was there to give her a cuddle when she’d first got out of the airport.
As Sienna fished through her bag for her keys, her stomach knotted again, and she inhaled slowly through her nose, bracing the palm of her hand on the wood of the door. Mentally, she noted that there was a perfectly good hedge next to their front door that could be vomited into, if needed.
Eventually, the churning of her stomach eased a little, and Sienna managed to unlock the front door, pulling herself and her case into the entryway. She set her backpack and suitcase by the foot of the stairs before beginning the search through the house for her family.
Rounding the corner into the open-plan living space, she smiled at the sight of Daniel standing at the kitchen countertop, chopping salad and bopping along to the summery music of one of his many playlists. He was clad in a pair of navy shorts and a bright blue, noisily patterned shirt. His feet were bare. She was home.
Slowly, Sienna walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his narrow waist. She felt him tense for a moment and giggled when he swore under his breath, before he looked down at her hands, which curled over his tummy.
“Well, hey there, cutie,” he murmured.
Sienna sighed contentedly, turning her head to rest her cheek between his shoulder blades as his voice settled over her like smooth caramel, “hi, baby.”
Daniel took hold of her hands to loosen her grip on him enough that he could turn to face her. She rested her hands on his hips, as his came up to cup her face. His stubble had grown a little since she had left, and one unruly curl of hair was hanging over his forehead. She reached up to smooth it back into place, with little effect.
“I fucking missed you,” he admitted, his gorgeous brown eyes scanning her face as he spoke.
Sienna nodded and leant up on her tiptoes to kiss him, “I missed you too.”
He smiled against her mouth until she lowered back to the flat of her feet. The motion alone made her head spin and she let out a groan, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his large hands running up and down her spine.
She shrugged, “I’ve felt awful for the whole journey home.”
“In what way?” Daniel probed, his concern growing.
“Nauseous, dizzy, hot even in the air conditioning. I haven’t managed to eat anything today,” Sienna listed.
“Still?” Daniel queried in confusion, “you were feeling sick before you left for Sydney too.”
“Must’ve just been the start of it. The nausea feels the same,” Sienna admitted, “although I feel like I’m running more of a temperature now.”
Daniel shook his head and lifted his hand to press the back of it to her forehead, “you don’t feel warm, you’re just a little…damp. With the sweat, y’know?”
Sienna snorted out a laugh at his choice of words, “probably because it’s hot as hell here, as usual. Who’s bright idea was it again to move out to a farm in The-Arse-End-of-Perth, Australia, again?”
“Oh I do wonder,” Daniel teased in return.
They knew full well that both he and Sienna had painstakingly searched for a house just like the one they were standing in for years, and were equally enthusiastic when the farm had come on the market. The day they had moved into the house, 4 years into their relationship, had been one of the happiest of Sienna’s life so far. It was their home, and any time that they had spare from Daniel’s hectic racing calendar in the year since they’d bought it was spent there.
Sienna tilted her head back to peer up at his handsome face, her fingertips gripping at the silkiness of his shirt, “are your mum and dad here yet?”
Part of her hoped he’d say no, so that they could cuddle, and she could nap, even though she was desperate to see Grace and Joe again too. She adored Daniel’s family.
Daniel nodded, “they’re outside. But if you’re not feeling well enough to come out now, you can go lay down for a bit. They’ll understand.”
“No way,” Sienna shook her head, even though she was dying to crawl into her own bed and just sleep, “I want to see them.”
The Ricciardos were out on the patio, looking as put together and gorgeous as ever. Grace was holding a glass of red wine, watching Joe heating the grill with a beer in hand. Daniel came out, holding the large bowl of salad he’d prepared in one hand, and leading Sienna out with the other.
“There’s our girl!” Joe cheered at the sight of her, abandoning the grill to rush over as Daniel let go of her to put down the food.
Sienna never had to force a smile around Daniel’s family. They were always so incredibly welcoming to her.
“Hey, Joe,” she greeted, as he engulfed her in a tight hug. Grace had also made her way over in that time, greeting Sienna with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once Joe let go of her.
“How was your journey, darling?” Grace queried softly, cupping her cheek.
Sienna managed a weak smile, “it was a little rough. I don’t feel all that well.”
“Oh, sweetie, go and rest if you need to!” Grace exclaimed, her hands resting on Sienna’s shoulders, “don’t mind us one bit.”
Sienna shook her head, “I’ll be okay. I think I just need some food and fresh air. I haven’t managed to eat yet today either, so that probably explains it.”
Grace still looked uncertain, but let it go, taking her seat back at the table with Sienna beside her as Daniel went to assist Joe with the food again. Grace and Sienna chatted about her work trip to Sydney and other current affairs, occasionally looking up to laugh at the banter between Daniel and his dad over the barbecue, or the ridiculous way Daniel was shaking his hips to the music. They talked about her and Daniel’s plans for the rest of the summer break, including their upcoming trip to Southern Italy.
Throughout, Grace knew that Sienna still wasn’t herself. She was awfully pale, and Grace noticed how Sienna’s hands were trembling a little whenever she went to take a tentative sip of water. She also noticed how Daniel would glance back over at Sienna regularly to check on her, the small crease between his eyebrows showing concern.
In the distance beyond the patio, Sienna spotted their flock of sheep migrating over the red-dirt hills towards their pen. She made a mental note to go down and visit them first thing in the morning, along with her horses. She had missed them so much in the four days that she was away. Having enough space to own animals had always been a dream of hers, and she felt blessed that she and Daniel were in a position to do so.
Suddenly, a slight breeze blew across the patio, carrying the scent of the cooking meat on the barbecue across the table. Sienna’s nose scrunched as the rich scent of steak and seasoned chicken engulfed her, and her stomach lurched. She slapped her hand ove no r her mouth and pushed out from the table as bile rose in her throat.
Daniel could only watch in confusion as Sienna raced back inside the house. He quickly handed the spatula back over to his dad and took off his apron, not wanting to risk anything that was making Sienna feel more sick getting close to her.
“Poor thing,” he heard his mum saying sympathetically as he followed Sienna inside, “she really isn’t well at all.”
The door to the downstairs bathroom was flung wide open, and Sienna hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on before falling to her knees in front of the toilet. There was no relief that came with actually vomiting though, and now she had started she feared she wouldn’t be able to stop. Already, there was little more than stomach acid coming up, burning at her nose and throat and only making the nausea worse.
“Oh, Peach,” Daniel sighed, crouching down beside Sienna’s exhausted-looking form. He carded his fingers through her sweat-dampened hair, ensuring it was all pulled away from her face before he kissed the crown of her head.
“I’m here, baby,” he soothed as she continued to vomit.
One of her hands shakily reached for him to steady herself, her clammy palm gripping onto his thigh where his shorts had ridden up a little to expose the tanned and tattooed skin.
Sienna let out a tired little sigh once her stomach finally stopped heaving, and she turned her head to rest her rosy cheek on Daniel’s thigh. She felt completely drained, and didn’t even try to open her eyes.
“All done?” Daniel asked softly, not wanting to speak too loudly and make her feel worse.
Weakly, she nodded, and Daniel shifted her until they were both sitting on the floor. Sienna was cradled in his lap as he smoothed his hand over her hair.
After a few moments, Daniel spoke quietly, “I’m going to put you in bed for a little while. If you’re feeling better later, you can come sit out with me and mum and dad again, yeah?”
Sienna didn’t even have the energy to object or explain how embarrassed she felt about getting sick in front of Daniel’s parents, so instead she just nodded. Daniel gently slid Sienna off his lap and onto the floor, before getting to his feet and bending down to lift her. He hooked an arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, encouraging Sienna to curl into his chest.
“I’ve gotcha sweetheart,” he murmured when she let out a quiet groan of discomfort. Even the slight movement of him starting to walk up the stairs was making her feel sick again.
By the time Daniel had reached their bedroom, Sienna was fast asleep against his chest. He pulled back the covers with one hand and lay her down on the mattress gently. He made sure the air conditioning was set just as she liked it, that she had her childhood Snuggle Cat close by and a cold glass of water on the bedside table. He took a moment to perch on the mattress next to her, noting the tension in her forehead and the little crease of her skin between her brows, even in her sleep. Something was definitely off.
Of course they’d seen each other sick in the last 6 years, even suffering through a rough bout of Covid-19 during the pandemic. Daniel couldn’t remember ever seeing Sienna so unwell before. Usually she would still manage to soldier through any symptoms, and simply curl up on the sofa under a blanket to watch trashy TV, but this time, she seemed completely drained.
Daniel gently kissed between Sienna’s brows, before smoothing over the spot with his thumb, encouraging her to relax, shushing her softly. She let out a little groan, arching into his touch before she snuggled further into the pillows.
Joe and Grace had finished off cooking the meat and veggies on the barbecue by the time Daniel wandered back out onto the patio. They’d even set the outside table and brought out the side dishes from the kitchen.
“How’s our girl?” Joe asked, as Daniel raked a hand through his hair, sinking into a chair opposite his mum and dad.
“Uh, she’s sleeping,” he said, reaching for the bowl of salad, “she’s totally wiped.”
“I could tell something wasn’t right as soon as she got back,” Grace admitted, spooning a few baby potatoes onto her plate, “we can save her some of the plainer food in case she’s hungry later, Bub.”
Daniel nodded in agreement, “thanks mum. She’s not been feeling well for a while, even before she left for Sydney. It might just be a bit of a nasty virus or something.”
Grace set down the dish she was holding and stared at her son, “she left on Tuesday?”
Daniel, still not looking up from where he was loading food onto his plate, nodded again, “yeah, she was away for 4 days.”
“Might even be worth seeing the doctor if she’s still not feeling great after 4 days,” Joe suggested, pushing his chair out from the table, “I’m gonna grab a beer. Want one, Dan?”
Daniel shook his head, “nah, thanks. I’d better not in case Sienna needs me later.”
Joe nodded, grabbing his son’s shoulder on his way past him back into the house. Once Joe was fully out of earshot, Grace leant across the table towards Daniel.
“Danny…I think you need to go and buy a pregnancy test,” She said.
Daniel’s brow furrowed, “what? For Sienna?”
“No. For you,” Grace joked, before she shook her head, “obviously for Sienna.”
He felt his stomach clench a little at the suggestion, “you think…?”
“It all adds up, Bubs. I was so sick when I was pregnant with you that I was convinced I had stomach flu for two weeks. I was just like Sienna is now - couldn’t stand the smell of any food, I was vomiting, I had nausea and headaches,” Grace explained, ticking off the symptoms on her fingers.
Daniel let out a little laugh of disbelief, “holy shit.”
Grace shook her head quickly, seeing Daniel’s excitement at the prospect growing, “it might not be, but she’s got the symptoms. Might just be worth checking.”
“She should have had her period by now,” Daniel noted.
He couldn’t remember the last time Sienna had put sanitary products into their basket while shopping, curled up with a hot water bottle pressed to her belly or taken one of her ‘magical’ Epsom salt baths for her cramping.
It had been a while.
Grace nodded slowly, giving her son time to process his thoughts, “why don’t you run to the store now while she’s asleep? Your dad and I can stay here with her. I won’t say anything to Dad.”
Daniel’s eyes flitted to his mum, who gave him a reassuring smile. He nervously raked a hand through his hair, at which his mum leant forward, offering her hand to him across the table.
He took it and she gave it a squeeze.
“It’s gonna be okay, Dan. You don’t need to be scared,” she whispered.
Daniel stood, staring blankly at the shelves in the tiny convenience store. He didn’t think it was possible to have so many different variations of the same product. Surely they all just did the same thing, right?
He snapped a photo of the shelves and sent it to his mum, followed by one word. ‘Help.’
While he waited for her response, he started at one end of the small aisle, eyes scanning across the various boxes to see if any of the tests stood out to him. There were early result ones, ‘dip’ ones - whatever the fuck that meant - and a plethora of digital ones. They boasted the highest accuracy percentage, and Daniel trusted statistics, so he began picking a digital test from each brand off the shelf and dropping them into the basket at his feet.
His phone pinged, and Grace had replied; ‘digital is better. ClearBlue is what Mich used.’
Daniel nodded and slipped his phone back into his pocket, continuing his journey down the aisle. His mind kept drifting back to Sienna, who was laying in bed back at their house, unbelievably sick and potentially pregnant with their child. The thought of her carrying their baby was almost too exciting for Daniel to bear. He knew he had to get home to her quickly.
A dip in the mattress made Sienna stir from her deep sleep. She yawned and stretched, accidently shoving Snuggle Cat onto the floor before she opened her eyes.
Daniel was perched beside her, his large hand settled on the curve of her hip beneath the comforter, “hey, Peach. How are you feeling?”
Sienna smiled sleepily at the nickname, which made Daniel relax a little. She finally seemed a bit more like herself.
“Um, not as sick, I think?” Sienna answered tentatively, scrunching her nose as she gauged whether she was at an immediate risk of throwing up on Daniel. After a second, she decided that they’d be safe for the moment.
Daniel nodded, “good. That’s…good.”
Sienna then noticed the plastic grocery store bag in his lap, “what have you got, Dan?”
He looked down at his lap, and then back at her, “I went to the store while you were asleep. Mum suggested it.”
“Oh?” Sienna asked, rubbing at her eyes with a closed fist, not caring if she was smudging her already ruined mascara even more.
Daniel reached into the bag and pulled out one of the boxes, setting it on top of the quilt between them. It took Sienna a moment to register what she was looking at, but as soon as she did, she felt her mouth go dry.
“What-?”
“Mum said it might be worth taking a test,” Daniel said softly, hoping he hadn’t overstepped the mark, “that she was so sick when she was first pregnant with me, just like you have been, and I just thought-”
Sienna just blinked at him, her hand coming up to rest on her pale cheek, “I-I could be. I just don’t know.”
“You don’t have to,” Daniel insisted, reaching forward to take hold of her hand, “I know I’ve just sprung this on you which is pretty shitty of me considering how unwell you’re feeling. I’m sorry.”
Sienna shook her head, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, “do you want me to take one?”
Daniel didn’t really know how to answer. Of course he wanted to know if they were going to be parents, but for her, he’d wait to make sure she was comfortable. After all, she hadn’t had much time to process the idea.
“Only if you want to,” Daniel said softly.
Sienna took a shuddering breath, “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay,” Daniel replied, “I’ll be here the whole time.
True to his word, Daniel accompanied Sienna to the bathroom, leaning back against the countertop as she peed on as many of the tests as she could manage. After each one, she’d pass them over to Daniel, who dutifully lay them out in a neat line across the counter.
“Jesus, Si, keep ‘em coming,” he teased, quite impressed by the amount of pee she was managing to produce.
“Shut up, Dan,” she grumbled, her cheeks flushing a bit at his words as she clicked the cap onto the 6th and final test and stretched her hand out towards him. He smiled at her and took it, turning his back only to allow her the privacy to clean up and flush.
“How long do we wait?” he asked, as Sienna perused one of the many test boxes stacked up on the countertop after washing her hands.
“They take around 2 minutes apparently,” She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.
Daniel was staring down at the line of tests intently, as if his gaze alone was enough to give them a result. She knew he was trying to stay composed for her, but she could spot his excitement a mile off. In that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted, and the real fear came from not being able to give Daniel that either.
“Danny,” she croaked, her eyes brimming with tears.
He turned to look at her and crossed the short distance to where she stood. As soon as he got to her, she crumbled, her arms wrapping around his neck and her face nuzzling into his shoulder to dampen his shirt.
“Hey,” he whispered, his hands running up and down her back, “it’s going to be okay, baby. Talk to me.”
She shook her head against him, and he gently squeezed her hips enough to hoist her up so she was sat on the counter. His hands cradled her face gently, those big brown eyes peering into hers.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
Sienna's eyes brimmed with tears again, “I love you.”
“What’s going on?” He probed, his thumbs stroking the fresh tears from her cheeks. The way she was trembling and crying was breaking his heart.
“I’m scared that you’ll be disappointed,” Sienna admitted, the words alone causing more tears to fall from her eyes.
“Disappointed?” Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed, “how could I be disappointed, sweetheart? If those tests are positive, I’ll be absolutely elated, and if they’re not, sure it’ll sting, but I know that one day when we do get a positive, it’ll be the best day of my life.”
Sienna felt her heart burst with love for the man standing in front of her, and she leant forward to allow their foreheads to meet. Daniel pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.
“Do you want them to be positive?” he asked against her skin.
Sienna closed her eyes, and without a second thought, nodded emphatically, chewing at her bottom lip, “more than anything.”
Daniel let out a sigh, finally understanding why she was so anxious, “listen, if they aren’t positive, and you do have some shitty virus, then as soon as you’re feeling better, we’ll get on board the baby-making train.”
Sienna peered up at him, “really?”
“Really,” Daniel said decisively.
Suddenly she let out a giggle and rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe you just called it ‘the baby making train’.”
“Is that not what everyone calls it?” Daniel teased, laughing at his own joke as always. Sienna adored him for it.
“I don’t think so, honey,” she sniffled, bringing her arms to loop behind his neck so that she could run her fingertips through the soft curls on the back of his head.
“I think this might be the longest two minutes of my life,” Daniel admitted, turning his head to look at the row of tests again.
Just as he did, the first test began to beep quietly, the small light on the front flashing as if anyone who had taken one of those tests wouldn’t already be watching it like a hawk.
Sienna looked at him, letting a slow breath fall from between her lips. Daniel turned back to her and kissed her softly, silently reassuring as his hands gently took hold of her waist to ease her off the counter.
“I don’t know if I can look,” Sienna admitted quietly, her hands starting to tremble as the second timer beeped too.
Daniel’s hands ran up and down her ribs, “tell me what you want me to do.”
Sienna peered up at him, her vision blurring through her tears again as she saw the excited little smile playing on Daniel’s lips. She knew how much this moment meant to him, so she let him have it.
“Go look,” she urged.
Daniel kissed the top of her head before padding the short distance to the other side of the sink, where the tests were all lined up and waiting. For a moment, Daniel was frozen, his hands pressed to the counter on either side of the tests and his head bowed as he surveyed each of them carefully. It was the quietest Sienna had ever heard him be and the stillest she’d ever seen him.
After a few seconds of just listening to his steady breathing, Sienna mustered the courage to stand alongside him, staring at the side of his handsome face to try and gauge his reaction.
“Dan…what do they say?” Her voice was shaking, and she gripped onto the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline, too petrified to look down at the tests.
Daniel exhaled, turning round to face her, and it was then that she saw the tears on his cheeks. Only once he had her in his arms, did he nod, and let a beaming smile spread across his face. His hands came up to cradle her face, and he looked at her, grinning like a fool.
“Daniel…” Sienna warned shakily, as he continued to stay silent, “what-?”
“You’re pregnant.”
Immediately, Sienna buried her face into his chest and began to sob, as his hands wrapped around her tightly, one curling against the back of her head to hold her against him as she cried. He gently pulled back, pressing kisses all over her face even as she giggled and cried, completely overwhelmed.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, leaning round Daniel enough to pick up the first test off the counter.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but she just needed to see it for herself. Sure enough, the little display screen showed a plus sign, followed by the word ‘pregnant’.
The next 5 tests each said the same.
Sienna clutched them all in her hands, Daniel laughing joyously at the sight of her holding them all with a look of pure amazement on her face.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, “Danny…”
“I know,” he laughed again, raking his fingers through his curls, “I can’t believe this.”
“Me neither,” Sienna admitted, setting the tests down on the counter gently, “we’re going to have a baby.”
Daniel laughed, more tears falling down his cheeks as he reached for her. She stepped into his grasp again, her arms resting easily around his waist as her chin dropped to settle on his sternum, allowing her to stare up at him.
“I love you,” she said softly, as his shoulders heaved with another sob.
“I love you too,” he whispered, leaning down enough to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
The pair stood like that for what felt like an eternity, sharing kisses and tears in each other’s arms. Suddenly, Daniel pushed away from her gently, enough to drop his gaze down between their bodies.
“What are you doing?” Sienna laughed, as his hand came down to rest on her flat tummy.
He continued to stare at her body intently, brows furrowed, “just trying to imagine what it’ll be like when you can’t see your toes anymore.”
Sienna snorted and shook her head, “well for me, it’ll be ridiculously uncomfortable. For you, it’ll be like standing beside a beached whale.
Daniel shook his head adamantly, lifting his head again to look at her, “no way. You’re going to be the cutest pregnant woman of all time.”
“Oh really?” Sienna asked, as his hand stroked across her belly. He nodded and kissed her forehead in confirmation, completely overwhelmed at the thought of watching Sienna’s body change and grow over the coming months.
He couldn’t wait to experience it all with her: the scans, deciding on decoration for the nursery, helping her tie her laces when she couldn’t bend down anymore, feeling their baby kicking for the first time. It was all so exciting.
“Really,” Daniel affirmed, leaning his forehead against hers, “I think this is the happiest moment of my life.”
Sienna’s eyes watered at his words, “oh Dan…”
“I’ve always wanted this with you Si,” Daniel continued softly, “we’re going to have the cutest babies.”
Sienna sniffled and laughed, nodding, “we are.”
Daniel grinned, each of his pearly teeth on show as a hand drifted to stroke across her flat tummy, “do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I have no idea,” Sienna laughed, shaking her head, “what do you think? Do you mind?”
“I don’t mind,” Daniel shrugged, “I mean my parents had one of each, your parents had one of each, you can’t get more statistically even than that right?”
“I guess so,” Sienna smiled, leaning forward to nudge the tip of her nose against his.
Daniel lifted his gaze to look at her, and she pressed her lips against his. They kissed for a moment, soft and sweet and gentle, before parting. Sienna whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Daniel murmured, pecking her lips twice more before his eyes lit up, “how do you feel about telling my parents they’re going to be grandparents again?”
Sienna giggled and nodded, as Daniel grabbed one of the many positive tests from the countertop, “let’s do it.”
Daniel grasped her hand, and gave her a little tug to follow him out of the bathroom. Sienna followed, one hand interlaced with his while the other grasped at his tattooed forearm. Just as he turned the corner and reached for their closed bedroom door, Sienna squeezed him, squeaking out an urgent, “wait.”
He stopped in his tracks as suddenly as she had, turning to eye her up questioningly, his eyebrow quirking worriedly, “you’re not gonna puke again are ya?”
Sienna bit her lip and shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again, “Danny, I…”
He let go of the handle and turned to face her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, “yeah?”
“This is our last moment of only us knowing about the baby,” she whispered, tears threatening to fall more with every passing second.
The more she imagined the tiny little life growing inside her, the more her stomach churned with nerves and excitement.
Daniel nodded and took another step closer, “do you want to wait to tell them? We can wait if you’re not ready, although I’ll have to come up with something to tell Ma.”
“No,” Sienna insisted, shaking her head before giving him a shy smile, “I just want a minute longer to really remember this feeling, before it’s not only us anymore.
With that, she looked him up and down, taking in his luscious dark curls, his warm honey-toned gaze and gorgeous nose. She admired the way his boisterous party shirt hung off his frame and the glimpse of his thigh tattoo peeking from beneath the hem of his almost-too-short shorts.
When her eyes met his again, he was beaming from ear to ear, each of his pearly white teeth showing in the way that made her heart flutter unconditionally. She knew she’d remember him in that moment, and the way he looked at her knowing she was carrying their first child, for the rest of her life.
“I fucking love you,” she hiccuped, trying to compose herself, even as tears fell down her flushed cheeks.
Daniel snorted a laugh and pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers firmly, “I fucking love you too, darling.”
Sienna pecked his lips twice more, before pulling back to look at him, her gaze still soft and watery, “I think I’m ready.”
Daniel smirked and nodded, “then let’s do this.”
One Shot: Good News- Daniel Ricciardo
You’re in Perth with Daniel and in family enjoying Daniel’s winter break; a welcome surprise awaits.
Warning- mention of fainting and pregnancy.
It was a Sunday afternoon in sunny Perth, Australia. The house party that Daniel and his family threw was absolutely amazing. There was palpable positive energy in the air and everyone was buzzing. You were making your rounds with Daniel as you two met up with all the guests. Many of your guests were seeing you two for the first time since your marriage, 8 months ago. You both had decided to keep thr wedding very low-key and intimate- only immediate family and family friends.
Soon, Daniel went to hang out with the boys, Michael, Blake, Marcus, Scottie and a few of his other school mates. You went over, said hi but soon left because you wanted Daniel to really enjoy with his friends and not worry about whether you were comfortable or not. He rarely got time to spend with his close mates.
You headed over to the area of the house where Grace and Michelle were sitting. Daniel’s nephew, Isaac, came running and sat on Michelle’a lap. You three were laughing over something Isaac said and it was so cute! Little Isaac had really warmed up to you over the past couple of months and you couldn’t be happier. You were now his ‘Aunt y/n’! Uncle Dan and Aunty y/n- sounded so good :) it melted your heart.
Food was laid and Grace got up, leading you and Michelle to the outdoors table. It was about 8 in the evening and the weather was cool. You were walking outside to where all the guests and family were but saw Michael in the kitchen, on the way.
“Hey! you coming outside?”, you asked him.
“Yep, right after ya.”, replied Michael in his thick Aussie accent.
You waited for him to finish his glass of water and you two walked outside. He walked a couple of steps behind you. You were walking down the steps when you suddenly lost balance and missed a step. Thankfully Michael was right there and he caught you by your arm. You heart was in your mouth.
“Careful there y/n! You alright?”, questioned Michael.
“Ye-yes, all good”, you replied while still catching your breath.
“What was that?”, you thought to yourself. You really felt dizzy for a few seconds after that near-fall. But thankfully Michael was right there and he made sure you could walk.
Daniel was playing with his nephew and you thanked god he didn’t see what just happened. Daniel would have unnecessarily freaked out and called the doctor. You knew him. Though you appreciated his concern 100%, you didn’t want to attract and unnecessary attention and cause panic.
Dinner was fun! The food was delicious and Isaac and Daniel are from the same plate haha! One could not separate Isaac from his favourite uncle when he was in town! Drinks were served by Joe after dinner and there was live music to which everyone danced! It was a jolly good evening and everyone was in spirits.
There were a few ingredients missing for the dessert that Michelle was making so Daniel and Joe said that they would head down the local market to get the stuff. We had also ran out of beer so two went to buy everything. Daniel insisted that Joe didn’t have to go but Joe wasn’t going to back down. Having a busy schedule due to F1, he didn’t get to see his son as often as he would like. So the two of them were on their way.
You, along with Blake and Michael helped Grace take the dishes inside. That’s when it happened again. You felt dizzy but this time there was no one to hold you up. Thankfully you leaned against a wall on time. The plate in your hand fell and the glass shattered. Blake, Michael and Grace turned around and ran towards you. Grace gave you water to drink and Michael and Blake carried you to the nearest sofa. You laid down for a second and then you were fine.
You missed Dan. You needed him. You wished he came back soon. You just wanted to hug him and cuddle with him. You wanted to cry. What was happening?
Suddenly you felt the urge to throw up so you rushed toward the restroom. Grace patted your back and continuously told you that everything was going to be okay. She was such an angel. Dan was lucky to have a mother like her. Soon Michael came to check on you.
Michael and you shared a brother-sister type relationship. You knew him since before you even knew Daniel. For the past 3 months you had been training with Michael as well because you realised that it was time to get fit and conscious about your health. Michael knew your diet in and out so he was certain that nothing in your diet could have caused you to throw up.
“Has this happened before?”, asked Michael.
“Nope. Thank god.”, you replied.
“I know it couldn’t have been anything you ate because I keep a check on everything Daniel, Blake and you eat.”, said Michael.
“Have you and Daniel started trying for a baby?”, questioned Michael.
You were taken aback by that question. It was a very personal question and it came out of no where!
“WHAT!”, you almost squealed with surprise. “No! and why’re you asking me such questions Mike?!, you exclaimed.
“I’m sorry. That was a really personal question.” Michael realised what he has just said. “I only asked because dizziness is one of the signs of a woman being pregnant. Plus I saw the look on your face when Dan made you sip on his wine. You couldn’t keep the wine down, could you?, he asked.
“No.”, you replied.
“As a coach, I understand these things that’s why I had to ask. Really apologetic if I crossed any boundaries y/n”, said Michael.
“Don’t worry, it’s just you.” you said while patting his arm.
You and Daniel have always wanted kids but you hadn’t started trying just yet. After what Michael said you couldn’t help but think if you were actually pregnant. You wanted to take a test.
You quietly asked Michelle if she had a pregnancy test and she squealed with excitement at the through that you might be pregnant. You told her you weren’t sure and you just wanted to take a test. She had a test kit and gave it to you.
You took the test.
Positive.
You were pregnant.
You went outside not sure how to feel. Excited? Nervous? You didn’t know. You didn’t know how Dan would react but what you did know was that he was going to be the best father ever.
You didn’t want to tell anyone the happy news before you had told Dan. Michelle knew, because she stood right outside the restroom, too excited to know the outcome. She knew what this was going to mean to Dan and you didn’t even need to tell her not to tell anyone else before you told Dan.
Dan and Joe were walking back into the house after their trip to the supermarket. You beamed at Daniel and he gave you a kiss on the forehead before placing all the packets on the table. The party continued as is. Daniel took your hand to lead you outside to join everyone but you took his other hand and asked him to come to the bedroom with you.
“Someone’s already excited? I thought we were going to wait for the night but we’ll I guess now is okay too!!” said Daniel in a cheeky and excited tone.
You rolled your eyes and said, “Shut up you! It’s important.”
Daniel picked you up in his arms in a bridal lift and took you into your bedroom.
“What’s up babe?”, questioned Daniel.
You stepped closer to him. So close that he placed his forehead on yours. You brought his right palm up to your stomach and placed it there. You closed your eyes. His hand on your stomach felt so good. So natural.
“What? What’re you doing?”, said Daniel.
You looked up at him and into his eyes. Nothing needed to be said .
He looked at you with puppy eyes and soon his eyes were teary.
“Are you serious?! We’re pregnant!!, screamed Daniel and you nodded.
He kissed you romantically and lifted you up and twirled you in the air. “Oh my god I can’t believe this! I’m going to be a father!
You hugged him and cried. You were so happy. This is all one could ask for.
Daniel bent down and kissed your stomach and this mental image will be in your memory forever.
“Now the test was positive but I still feel we should go to the doctor to get it confirmed before we tell everyone.” you said.
“Right on it.” said Daniel as he instantly called the doctor to make an appointment.
You two kissed for a while with his hands on your waist.
“When do you think this happened Dan?”, you asked l, breaking the comfortable silence you both were sharing.
“After my Monza win.”, Daniel said.
“WHAT?! How can you say that with so much confidence? How do you know for sure?”, you asked with utmost surprise.
“We didn’t use protection that night babe. It really was the best sex ever.”, he replied while giggling.
“What am I going to do about you Mr Ricciardo?” you said jokingly as you casually punched his arm.
“Daniel lifted you up in the same way he got you into the room and led you outside towards the party. There was a certain glow on his face and you could see how much this meant to him. You were so grateful. You couldn’t wait for what the next few months were going to bring but all you knew that with Daniel by your side, it was going to be a journey you would never forget.
Honey Badger Jr.
Summary: Daniel gets his son a special present.
Before his son Theo was even born, Daniel had been looking forward to sharing his passion for racing and driving with him. He couldn’t wait to put him in his very own kart, to take him to the track for the first time, to teach him how to drive. If it were up to him, he would’ve put Theo in a kart the moment he could sit up. That didn’t go over well with y/n though. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of putting their then 4-month old in a racing kart and for good reason.
So the couple agreed to wait till Theo reached the appropriate age to introduce all that to him. Now that he was 3, y/n and Daniel decided he was ready to attend his very first Grand Prix in person. And what better to be his first than the Melbourne Grand Prix, the season opener, and his father’s home circuit.
Keep reading
would you be so kind as to write a ❤️ fic for Danny! {first kiss / realisation}
love you 😘
So this got a little out of hand oops
I don't wanna look at anything else (now that I saw you)
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader Words: 1186 Warnings: none
---
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando said as he fell in step next to his teammate. They were on their way to a debrief after the last free practice session ahead of the Spanish Grand Prix. It hadn’t gone the way he had hoped, Daniel knew he could get much more out of the car.
“Because I don’t,” Daniel said, although it came out like a question, brows knitting together in confusion. The comment had caught him off guard, mind still occupied with the car’s performance. Lando looked at him, studying his face for a second or two before deciding that Daniel was, in fact, not pulling his leg.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, making Daniel stop in his tracks.
“What- hey wait up! What do you mean?” Daniel asked as he caught up.
“Just saying, you could’ve fooled me with the way you look at her,” Lando commented breezily with a shrug, “Is she single then? She’s cute.”
Daniel felt like his world was spinning. How had he been looking at her? She’d been his best friend for nearly a decade now after having met during his first year at RedBull, surely Lando was just referring to that. Although that didn’t explain the sudden feeling of absolute dread at the thought of Lando dating her. Why did he feel so strongly about her dating his teammate? Or anyone else for that matter? Come to think of it, Daniel had never liked any of her boyfriends.
“I- I don’t know,” Daniel muttered, mind still reeling, “but I doubt she’d date a teenager.”
Lando punched him in the arm. “I’m almost 21, hardly a teenager.”
Normally Daniel would have made a quick remark back about how he was barely old enough to legally drink in America and probably still didn’t have pubes, but Lando’s comments had sent his thoughts spiralling.
+
Daniel had almost forgotten about Lando’s observation when he walked down the stairs of the McLaren motorhome after the debrief with the engineers until he spotted her in the lounge. It wasn’t hard; her mint green hoodie stood out in the sea of orange and black. He watched her chat with Carlos, who was undoubtedly waiting for Lando, her laptop abandoned on the table in front of her. She had made herself comfortable on one of the cheap couches, knees pulled up and her hair was now tossed in a messy bun. Daniel couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw her throw her head back with laughter at whatever silly story Carlos was telling her and giving Lando a quick hug when he joined them. He loved watching her being so carefree, her laughter had easily become his favourite sound. But that didn’t mean he had feelings for her, it just meant she made him happy. So happy in fact it was nearly impossible to picture life without her. Daniel swallowed hard as his heart dropped and a realisation hit him, the feeling not too dissimilar to a car hitting the wall: Lando was right.
It had him rooted to the spot as he kept looking at her. How had he been so blind? She had literally been there right in front of him all those years. Perhaps he had just chalked it up to their friendship; whenever he was single, she wasn’t –and vice versa. All he knew was that at some point she had become his serenity amidst the chaos. When had that changed?
It wasn’t until his race engineer clapped him on the shoulder on her way out that he realised he’d been standing there for a good few minutes. He slowly made his way over to where his friends were sitting.
“Hey Danny, Carlos invited us to join him and Lando for dinner, what do you say?” she asked, looking up at him with a smile as he stood in front of her.
“I- I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted out instead of answering her question. The whole group was quiet for a moment as they waited for what was going to happen next. Daniel could feel panic rise in his throat as she just stared at him, mouth moving but not making a sound.
“Sorry, I-.. I did not mean-.. Forget I sa-..”
Before he could finish any of his sentences, she had gotten up from the couch, and pressed her lips against his as she stood on her tiptoes, taking hold of his sweatshirt. Her move caught him by surprise, a startled noise dying on his lips as his brain caught up with what was happening and he rested his hands on her waist, kissing her back.
“Finally,” she whispered as she pulled back.
“Wait, finally?” Daniel asked, confusion replacing some of the worry.
“Danny, I have been in love with you since your win in Monaco. Seeing you on that stage, soaked in champagne and living your dream.. That’s when it hit me,” she all but whispered. Daniel was dumbfounded at her revelation. He remembered that day vividly, that win feeling especially sweet after what had happened two years prior, he could still taste the champagne and hear the crowd if he closed his eyes, could still picture the way she had looked at him squished in between RedBull pit crew members, eyes brimming with love and pride, a smile so wide even his cheeks hurt as he reciprocated it.
“You-.. But that was in 2018,” he said, shock evident in his voice. She nodded, eyes meeting his’ as she fidgeted with the drawstring of her hoodie.
“The timing was just never in our favour so I tried to move on, tried to get over it for the sake of our friendship.”
Daniel rested his forehead against hers as he let her words sink in.
“I am such an idiot,” he whispered.
“You are, but you’re my idiot,” she whispered in return. Daniel felt his lips tug up in a smile at that, at being called hers.
“Told you,” Lando said, a smug grin on his face as he looked up at his teammate from his spot on the couch. Daniel rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling, an arm wrapped around her.
“And you owe me a fiver, mate,” Lando continued as he fell against Carlos’ side. Carlos chuckled, shoving him playfully.
“How about I pay for dinner instead?”
Lando pretended to think for a moment. “Yeah, sure. But no sushi!” Carlos laughed and got up from the couch, causing Lando to fall down.
“I mean it Carlos!”
“Congratulations, mate,” Carlos said, clapping Daniel on the shoulder as he ignored his former teammate who continued to protest from the couch, “love looks good on you. Both of you.”
“Thanks man,” Daniel said, looking down at the woman at his side who grinned back at him. This somehow felt even better than winning a trophy. The high of winning a race was always fleeting; it would only last until the next one came around. But Daniel knew with a certainty that this high would last a lifetime.
I had so much fun exploring the dynamics between Daniel and Lando, and Carlos and Lando. Hope I did this justice babe!
The Venn diagram of f1 fans and Taylor Swift fans is a circle. Like I don't know what to tell you
baby ricciardo | pt 1
Daniel ricciardo x reader
Warnings: fluff, uncle lando, daddy used in a non-sexual way, there will be a part two of this!
liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 789,900 others
Danielricciardo warm welcome homes, by my two girls ❤️
tagged yourusername
user67 please this is so cute-
user45 baby ricciardo is so freaking adorable
User34 they're adorable your honor
landonorris aww how's my sweet girl doing, miss you three!
Danielricciardo doing great we miss you too uncle Lando!
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liked by, landonorris, Pierregasly, mclaren and 399,900 others
yourusername these two spent the entire day out, and claimed they weren't tired, but fell asleep as soon as we got home <:
tagged Danielricciardo
user25 adorable 🥺
user89 y'all need another kid?
user20 mom and dad <3
landonorris so that's why he isn't picking up my calls 🙄
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liked by Danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 345,900 others
Yourusername woke up, said they were hungry, fed them and then they left me alone to watch paw patrol 🙃
tagged Danielricciardo
user567 poor y/n, can't even spend a second with them
user26 I wonder who her favorite is?
yourusername I mean it's pretty obvious :<
Danielricciardo she's daddy's girl for a reason
Landonorris still hasn't called me back yet
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liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 789,000 others
danielricciardo "she loves you more than me" she says as they both play outside in the rain
tagged yourusername
yourusername shut up. she still loves you more than me :(
user234 can she be my mommy?
user567 y'all are too adorable
user346 I would die for y'all
Landonorris cute ❤️
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Brothers' Beloved Best-friend | Daniel Ricciardo (part i)
What happens when you sleep with your brothers' bestfriend?
(picture from pinterest)
part ii
part iii
Coming back home was a nightmare, it was summer, which meant that your once peaceful home would be packed with family and friends, and though you wouldn't mind that on most days, today was not one of those days.
It was hot, your cousins who had dropped by for breakfast had just left when your brother announced that he was having one of his old friends stay in the spare room for a few days. Your brother was just one of those people; the one with an endless amount of friends and just so incredibly social that it baffled you on most days. He practically knew everyone, it was impossible to keep track of all of his friends.
"Which one?", You asked, looking up from the TV.
"Danny." He replied casually, unknown to the weight of his words.
You paused. No God, please not him. Your brother had had him over several times since you were a kid. The last time you saw him, you were in your first year of University, you two had hooked up after you'd confessed to having a crush on him when you were younger during a game of truth or dare. You refused to get back in contact with him after that out of sheer embarrassment, and the fact that he was your brothers' much older best friend.
"How long is he staying here?" You asked, trying your best to sound as casual about it as possible. You knew if your family found out it wouldn't end well for either of you- and despite the ghosting, you really didn't want that for him.
Daniel and your brother were always close, somehow managing to keep in touch despite their busy schedules. He was a great guy, really funny and charming and everyone in your family seemed to like him- especially you.
"Oh I don't know, he's in town for a week or two, why?" Your brother asked, sitting on the couch next to you.
"Just asking." You replied, turning your attention back to the TV to avoid any eye contact with your brother. With how social he was, he had obviously picked on several skills, one of which included reading people, he was really really good at that.
Later on, when you found yourself not being able to sleep at night, you resorted back to your phone. You'd obviously followed Daniel on his socials, just to stay "updated", you'd say. But in reality it was to check if he was single or not, because despite the circumstances, you hadn't really gotten over him- it didn't matter that he was much older than you and your brothers' bestfriend. He was your first crush and you don't really get over those, especially when they're Daniel Ricciardo.
You hadn't realised when you'd fallen asleep, but you were awoken by loud talking in the lounge. Even though your room was far from the lounge, no amount of pillows could keep the noise out, and so you were forced out of bed. After identifying more voices than usual, you opted to shower and change before stepping out of your room, still a little tired from staying up late the night before.
The second you opened the door, you heard it. His voice. You froze almost instantly, panicking.
Oh my God what do I do?
What do I say?
What if he says something?!
Do I look okay?!
Oh my God this is not going to end well-
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard his laugh boom through the lounge. A smile creeped it's way onto your lips, feeling a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.
Oh God, here we go again.
Despite mustering up all your courage, you still bee-lined your way to the kitchen, right past the lounge after mumbling a goodmorning, pretending like you didn't see the guest who was making you act the way you were.
"You're up!" Your dad announced, "Come, look who's here!"
You had successfully reached the kitchen and were trying your best to make the perfect amount of noise to indicate that you were busy.
"Coming!" you yelled, looking frantically for anything you could take outside to justify your stay in the kitchen.
You were just done making your cereal when you heard someone clear their throat at the kitchen entrance. It didn't take long to recognise who it was- infact you recognised the noise the second you heard it, suddenly finding the cabinet where you were returning the cereal box too interesting to close. You knew if you closed it, you'd see him and you were far too nervous to do that. So, you decided to stare blankly at the cabinet, how interesting and absolutely something someone does all the time.
It was only when you heard a stiffled laugh did you close the cabinet door, slightly offended.
What was he laughing at?
"Interesting cabinet you got there." He retorted, smile adorning his perfect face.
"Hm yeah, I was uh looking for something." You replied. What happened to polite greetings, or a simple hello? How rude.
He nodded as he made his way to you, making you all the more nervous. Being in the same house was terrifying enough, but now he was a mere foot away from you. He extended his arm and you stiffened up entirely, making him raise his brows at your sudden movement. His extended arm opened the cabinet you were guarding, moving his head to get a better look at the contents.
"Were you looking for plain oats? or maybe uh, what's this?" He asked, pulling a box out for further examination, "Ah yes, plain wheat sugar-free crackers? What an interesting choice for breakfast." He chuckled.
You didn't have a response. He knew you were hiding from him behind the cabinet and he knew that he was making you nervous too. The proximity at which he stood didn't help your thoughts much either, you could smell his cologne, and it was as intoxicating as it was that first night.
Seeing that you chose silence as a response to his humour, he nodded, slowly backing away from you. He picked up your bowl of cereal, winked at you and went back to the lounge.
"She made me a bowl of cereal! College has made her so kind!" He joked, integrating himself back into whatever discussion your parents and brother were having.
"Son of a bitch." You mumbled, knowing the game he had begun.
Daniel had always teased you, whether it was a joke or a prank, he was always at it with you. Earlier you'd reciprocate that energy, it was good fun and he was always a delight to be around. Having developed a crush on him at some point didn't help, but it didn't put a hamper on how you hung out with him.
You could recall great memories with him too, like how he picked you up from a failed date that you didn't want your family to know, or how the last time you met, you two had snuck out of a family party for drinks. He treated you like a friend too, and you always assumed it was because of the type of person he was. So, when two years ago, his stares held on for longer, or his hugs lingered for a few extra moments, you didn't question it- you convinced yourself that he was being his usual friendly self. It was only when he dragged you out of the party and made out with you in some dark alleyway behind a club did you piece two and two together. That, and the breathless confessions you two had in the middle of kisses.
Your family called out to you again, snapping you back to reality- the reality where Daniel had stolen your breakfast, making you resort to a granola bar from the shelf. You moved to the lounge, smiling at your family as you propped yourself next to your mother on the couch.
"Thanks for the breakfast." Daniel laughed, pausing the conversation to acknowledge you.
"I spat in it." You replied, rolling your eyes. The response came naturally, you two had fit yourselves back into the roles you always had.
This earned a sound of disgust from your mother, as the conversation continued. To be fair, you weren't paying attention and even when you did, it didn't matter because you had no clue as to what the hell anyone was saying. Your mind kept wandering over to Daniel, and how he looked that night, how he pulled you out of the alley and drove you two home, fucking you on the same bed and pillow where you'd touch yourself thinking about him.
You looked up, pulling yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, only to find Daniel glancing at you. You were right, he did pass looks at you when no one was looking, but this time around you were certain you had pushed him away for good, fucking up the one thing that could have been good.
"Do you have any plans today?" Your brother asked. You were zoning out a lot since Daniel got here, every statement from anyone was snapping you out of your mental palace and shoving you back into reality.
"Yeah, yeah I have some errands to run, stuff to buy." You replied, you needed an excuse to get out of the house, your diminishing self-care products proving to be a good example.
"Cool, take Danny with you, idiot barely got any stuff." Your brother said off handedly, propping himself off the couch.
"Why can't you take him?" You asked. The speed of your reply shocked your brother, and his friend, both of whom turned to you.
"Because, not everyone is back for their summer break," He said, pitching his voice higher in an attempt to mock you, "I have work, you know, adult stuff."
You snorted, "What work? sit around in dad's office and play fruit ninja on your phone?"
"Jeez, someone's a bit cranky." Daniel pitched in in an attempt to alleviate the situation, ofcourse he packed less, he knew that would be a great excuse to drag you away from your family and confront you.
You were going to resist more, when you saw the smirk on Daniels' face. Even he knew that if you resisted it would alert your over-protective brother, and that was the last thing you needed amidst this mess. So, you nodded, and got up to go to your room. It was 10 a.m, and you really didn't want to go alone with Daniel, so your best bet was to try to wait a bit in your room till you could drag your mother with you two.
You had spent a while on your phone, trying to pass the time when you heard your bedroom door open, with your back faced towards the door, you chose to ignore it, assuming it was your mother. The momentary silence alerted you into turning around- your mother would never just enter a room and stand there quietly.
It was Daniel, ofcourse. He was examining an old picture frame you had repositioned.
"This wasn't here the last time I was here." He replied, not looking up at you, rather continuing to examine the picture. It was a picture from your eighteenth birthday party, you were cutting the cake, surrounded by friends, and in the corner of the picture, you could see your brother and his beloved friend plotting on how to get that icing on your face. It was an adorable picture, and held great memories. Your eighteenth was one of your most memorable birthdays for several reasons, but the main being the fact that Daniel had bought you a little blue pendant as a gift. It was beautiful and you wore it the second you opened the box and saw it, and you never took it off since then- despite whatever had happened between you and Daniel in between, you kept the necklace close to you, and on you at all possible times. It meant a lot to you, and was a great reminder of better times.
"What are you doing in my room?" You asked, sitting up.
"Did you rearrange stuff this time around?" He asked, leaning on the wall and looking around.
"Yeah, just shifted things here and there." You replied, a bit confused at the topic he chose for conversation.
"Hm, looked different." He replied.
A silence followed as he continued to scan the room, his eyes finally landing on the bed, and then onto you on the bed. He held the gaze for a moment, almost as if he was about to say something, but before he could, you interrupted him out of fear that he'd ask the dreaded question you didn't want to answer.
"Why are you in my room?" You repeated.
"I just came to ask when we were going to the store." He smiled.
God, that stupid, stupid smile. The one he'd flash almost constantly, and yet every time you saw it, your stomach did backflips. The way his cheeks pushed his eyes and the way his teeth showed, the ways his lips moved and how hsi stubble looked around them. It was adorable, it really was, and you hated yourself for still managing to die over it. It had been years and you needed to get over this silly little crush, especially considering you chose to push away all that could happen.
"Uh, I was just waiting for mom." You replied, looking away from him. You couldn't stand looking at that face, it made you feel awful. He'd probably already gotten over the fling, it probably meant nothing more than a silly one night stand for him.
"Your mom's gone to a friends' brunch I think, and your dad and brother have gone to the office." He shrugged.
"What?!" You asked, more shocked than you had expected. You were home alone with the one man you didn't want to be alone with.
The volume of your response shocked him, his brows raising as he held his hands in the air.
"Hey, hey, dont scream at me I didn't send them. The office needed the fruits ninjad." He laughed, the joke was bad, but it helped alleviate the tension in the room.
You laughed, putting your head down to look at your crossed legs, you didn't want him to see the blush that rose at your cheeks. He always remembered silly things you said, recalling them here and there as silly little jokes or taunts. That was part of his charm, remembering things about you, it always felt nice to be included like that.
You two were standing alone in your bedroom again, the realisation of your privacy and the possibilities of such privacy, hit you like a truck, prompting you to jump out of bed and move to your dresser. You needed to get out of the house, or atleast get in motion in an attempt to prevent any unwanted conversations.
You and him were out for nearly two hours, in which you were alone in the car, which he insisted on driving, were at the store, and at one point even at the bakery. Throughout the time you had spent together, not once did Daniel bring up the past, nor did he hint at it, instead you had standard conversations about things like college, the weather, his career and anything you felt like. It felt like old times.
It was only when he parked the car infront of the house did the air get thick with tension. You could sense that he would prompt the discussion, and so when you turned to face him, you were just shocked to see him looking at you, smiling. Nowhere on his face could you read any anger or confusion, nor did he look like he was going to ask or say something. He just smiled at you, unlocking the car doors and moving to get the shopping bags in the house, leaving you dumbfounded in the car.
Was he really not going to bring up the conversation? Was he not going to ask why you refused to talk to him the morning he left? Or why you shut down any forms of online communication you two could have had? Did he somehow magically understand? Or did that night mean nothing to him?
He had ofcourse tried to talk to you the morning after, and you had expressed some concern, but it was only the next morning when he was leaving, did you decide that a side hug was enough of a goodbye. He then tried texting you the next day, only for you to see the message and not respond. He had tried, you had just shut him down, knowing very well that continuing what you two had would be wrong. He was so close to your brother, and you didn't want your brother to feel betrayed like that.
Now, he was behaving exactly how you'd want him to. He was pretending like nothing had happened, so why were you upset? Did you want him to bring up that uncomfortable question? Did you want him to ask why you got so cold all of a sudden? Maybe you did, maybe the part of you that still liked him, really wanted him to try and do something one last time to fix what you had ruined.
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A/N: HII!!!! IM BACK WITH A SERIES HEHE!! sorry for the cliffhanger, I'll be uploading the next part soon! The second part will probably have smut in it, so a headsup for that. This is my first series and my first fic here, please please lmk how you like it and if I could improve in any way.
As usual, my asks are open for criticism and requests!
daddy-daughter dance-- d.ricciardo
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader word count: 770 a/n: just like. who else would I write this about yk?
He’s been talking about it for ages, dreaming about it since you found out you were having a girl. They still do those, right? He’s asked, said his sister went to one every year when she was young.
They do, still do it, you learned when she was five, and a newsletter came home with her from school advertising it. Baby, look at this, you told him, tapped on the headline in the corner of the page. Father-daughter dance.
It was a Saturday, and he’d made a whole day out of it. Woke up early, earlier than usual, and made her favorite breakfast, served it to her in bed, woke her up with a soft kiss on the forehead, moving her sweaty hair from her face.
After breakfast, they go to the spa–get pedicures. Daniel sends you lots of pictures, even more videos of her giggling uncontrollably in the big chair. After much contemplation, she chooses rainbow nails, with rainbow sparkles. A classy decision, Daniel tells her from behind the camera in the video he sent, very smart.
When they get home she gifts you with two sets of foam toe separators, says they’re for the next time the two of you have a girls night. You thank her, put them in the bin that all of your nail polish is in, and then you start on her hair.
She has his curls, long and thick and wild and unruly. They’ve never been easy to tame. You wet them down, soak them with a spray bottle and slowly work through the tangles. “Are you excited to go to the dance with daddy?” You asked her, tugged on her hair and apologized.
“I’m so excited!” She told you, mirrored your actions on the Barbie doll in her lap. “Me’s and Daddy will has so much fun.”
“You and Daddy will have so much fun.” You nod, re-align the part of her hair. “Daddy is sooo excited, too.”
“Really?” She says, shoots her eyes up to meet your in the mirror.
You smile at her smile, at the crooked baby teeth and apple cheeks. “Oh, yeah.” You tell her, nod, reach for the curl cream. “The only thing he loves more than dancing is you.”
“You think?” She says, the th- sound horribly enunciated, dull and lispy and adorable.
“I know.”
– –
Daniel’s in your bedroom, receiving updates from you, in your daughter’s room, via text. She’s wearing purple. You told him three outfit changes ago. Blue. I think we’ve settled on blue. She had not, in fact, settled on the blue dress. Yellow. Yellow, for sure. You finally said, after she looked into the mirror and said she looked like her favorite princess.
You couldn't’ remember if he had a yellow tie–he has to, you think, you hope, because he is dead-set on matching her and there’s no way you’re going to make her pick a different outfit, no way your sanity can last another trip through her closet.
She asks if you can put makeup on her, and you can’t imagine Daniel’s reaction to that–his little girl in makeup. You put the tiniest amound of blush on, a dollop of sparkly lipgloss, and run a dry spooly brush through her eyebrows and eyelashes. “Fabuolous!” She declares, spinning around in her dress and her dress-up disney-princess heels.
She’s waiting on the couch, patiently playing with the tule on the skirt of her dress, picking at the sequins and the sparkles. She’s taken one of your purses hostage, a tiny white baguette bag slung over her shoulder. She put your lipgloss in it–just in case, Mom, she told you. Your lipgloss, and an old phone, sceen cracked and practically unusable, one she uses when her imagination is feeling extravagant.
Daniel walks through the door with a bouquet of yellow and white flowers in his hand, and two plasti boxes–a white corsage and a matching boutonniere. You pin it on him, and he double wraps the elastic band of the corsage around her wrist so it doesn’t fall off, tells her she looks so lovely, beautiful like always.
You take a million pictures of them on the front porch before they go, so many they’re both begging to go. We can’t be late, Mom, your daughter told you, huffed and crossed her arms. “Yeah, Mom.” Daniel teases, “We can’t be late.”
“Okay, okay.” You say, snap a couple more pictures, kiss them both goodbye. You watch on from the porch, hand over your heart, smile on your face while he helps her into the car like it’s a chariot, a horse-drawn carriage for a queen.
Us Against The World | D. Ricciardo
In which they babysit her nephew and he makes a confession that throws her slightly off guard.
word count: 3,7k | no warnings | prompt(s) used: f27
Family. It was one of the most significant things to you. They happened to be the people you reasonably held most dear, and you wouldn't exchange them for the world. Though they were all relatively busy people, many of them inconveniently had children, nonetheless. Your beloved sister and her faithful husband were one of those people, and unfortunately, they were away for their successful job a bit too much for your liking. Although that usually meant you would be skilled to babysit your nephew, you genuinely felt for the innocent child that he was rarely gifted with the necessary presence of his parents, nonetheless. But the three-year-old boy was ridiculously delighted to be spending time with you. With you and your longtime boyfriend, that is.
Your family typically associated Daniel with being clumsy with children, even though he treasured them dearly. He just invested way too much time in laughing hysterically at the little one's unfortunate moments, rather than properly taking care of the situation. Like that one time his nephew fell off his toy car, Daniel only laughing more as the poor child struggled to get up and unexpectedly fell further
When your charming sister contacted you if you were willing to babysit her dear boy again, you unhesitatingly accepted it. The mother had dropped her child off at your luxury apartment, the charming boy traditionally being accompanied with his favourite stuffed animal. The giraffe indulgently hung in his protective arms as he smiled at your hearty welcome, pulling him in for a tight hug.
"Is uncle Danny home, too?" You heartily smiled at your nephew upon hearing his question, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course buddy," you chuckled at his joyous excitement. "He's inside, go tackle him with lots of hugs, yeah?" The boy happily ran past you and your glittering eyes followed him eagerly. He didn't fail to keep the giraffe firmly in his tiny fingers, and you undoubtedly heard him shout your boyfriend's name. It was followed by the soothing voice of Daniel, naturally causing you to know the child had successfully encountered the Australian.
"Thanks again, Y/n. I imagine you must grow tired of me by now." Your sister said as you returned your attention to the remarkable woman in front of you. "Absolutely not, honey," you had started before you managed to summon a genuine smile and directed it her way. "You know I love him, so does Daniel," you continued as you collected the practical necessities your sister brought for her young child. "However, are you sure you are unable to spend this weekend with him? I imagine it must be arduous to see him so little." "It is tough," she hesitantly started. "Though we truly can't. But I am certain you two will properly provide him with the best of time." "Of course," You smiled at you obtained the pram she transported to you. "You know we'll pamper him too much." The both of you chuckled, though you still felt irritable about the situation.
You had undoubtedly been an enormous fan of children for a long time, but the most prominent thought in your mature mind was the fact that you should not get a baby if you can not make time for them. Absolutely, complex situations may occur. But in this specific case, your sister and brother-in-law had both decided on having a baby, and it had merely taken them three productive years before they immediately started to work constantly again. Because you were so fond of children, many family members accurately marked you as their personal babysitter, your sister in particular. You didn't mind, though. You genuinely loved spending time with them. It was the children you felt sympathy for.
"I don't think he will require that, but you can never be too safe," your sister started as she pointed at the pram that you had previously placed in your hallway. "He's gotten terribly fond of walking, lately." "I think I can see that," you chuckled as you got slightly distracted by the joyful noises escaping your secure living room. "Is that everything?" Your charming sister nodded, and she politely offered you a kind-hearted smile.
"It must be," she started as she clasped your hand. "Thank you so much again, you are the best." You shrugged at her kind comment. "My pleasure, he absolutely savours this place as well," you started as she placed a small kiss on your jewelled hand. "Just don't overwork yourself, yeah?" "You know me, darling." She let go of your hand, and you rolled your eyes. By all means, you knew her. That is why you commented on her complex behaviour. Every so often it made you worried sick, but you weren't her mother. It wasn't your impossible job to compel her into taking some well-deserved days off or tell her what to do, but you hoped she would come to the realisation she should start properly taking care of herself, too.
You hugged your beloved sister after you had properly said your final goodbyes and you carefully put the necessities in the pram and pushed it inside. You slowly made your way to your living room until you stopped in your tracks upon witnessing the scene in front of you.
Daniel laid on the floor, his bare feet firmly set on the ground and your nephew was crouched on his stomach. You can imagine the slight discomfort of the child's small feet poking in his sensitive stomach. His tiny hands grabbed the shirt that covered Daniel's brawny chest, the small fingers instantly disappearing into the wrinkled material of the remarkable piece of clothing. Your boyfriend's strong hands gently rested on the crouched body of your nephew, desperately trying to support his fragile frame from falling off of his splendid figure.
"What are you doing?" You chuckled lightly as you gradually started encountering the two boys in your living room. The both of them simultaneously shot their eager eyes at you, naturally resulting in you taking a step back and raising your hands in defence. "Easy there, tigers. Wasn't aware the two of you would get mad for harshly interrupting your intense moment there." You chuckled gleefully as the two returned their concentrated eyes to each other and you crossed your arms as you leaned comfortably against the cold doorframe.
"Cautious, big man," Daniel talked softly as he concentrated on eagerly providing the toddler with the possible support he might require. "Slowly, steady." You witnessed your nephew gradually rising to his feet as he eagerly tried maintaining optimum balance on the Australian's stomach. Your eyes enlarged when you perceived his wobbling, wanting to come up to them until you noticed Daniel's grip on his behind to prevent him from falling.
A few seconds later, the three-year-old managed to stand up straight, successfully able to maintain his balance as he continued poking his feet into your boyfriend. The both of them cheered enthusiastically before the toddler decided to incautiously jump and plop down onto Daniel his abdomen, both legs ending on each side of him. Daniel instantly shot up, a deep groan escaping his lips as he let out a small chuckle. He wrapped the petite figure into his arms, quickly swaying him from left to right.
"Easy there, mate," he started as he slightly withdrew from him to properly meet his chaotic stare. "I've got feelings too." Loud chatter and excited giggles instantly left your nephew's moistened lips as you looked at them in awe. "Seriously guys, what kind of reckless things have you been doing in the short time I've been at the front door?" You carefully decided to speak up once more, this time persuading mostly your gorgeous boyfriend to explain himself.
"This fighter wanted to see if he was skilled enough to balance himself on something else than the ground," Daniel started as he looked at you, his well-known smile warming your heart. "And as you must have undoubtedly noticed, he definitely can. Including knocking all the air out of my lungs, after that." Your nephew playfully hit the clothed chest of the smiling man in front of him as he continued holding his tiny figure.
"You thought that was a clever idea?" You chuckled lightheartedly. You could not be mad at the unfortunate situation that happened in front of you. It gladdened your passionate heart so much to the point where you wished to forget this was not a child of your own.
"What fun is there in simply doing things that are clever?" Daniel let out a slight laugh as he directed the question more to the child seated on his lap than to you.
You chuckled as you went grabbing some of your nephew's toys from your room, returning to the boys with the recognisable bag of lego. You politely handed it to Daniel, who had already set the three-year-old on the rug in the living room, and you landed on a suitable spot on the floor next to the two.
"So," Daniel instantly started after he had received the bag from you. He emptied it messily on the floor, causing you to let out a defeated sigh. "What do we desire to build, mate?"
Your beloved nephew remained from answering, too caught up in the unfortunate moment of impulsively tossing around some of the tiny pieces. You were certain you would keep discovering a couple of them, even some months later. Your lover shot a playful glance at where the youngest had intentionally thrown some blocks at, chuckling in pleasant surprise.
"You can't throw any further than that?" Daniel challenged the boy, one that he unhesitatingly accepted. "Honey!" You protested but it was long overdue. The innocent child had grabbed a hand full of lego blocks and instantly tossed them as far as he could. Though he didn't possess much strength, so they luckily failed to strike anything of expensive worth.
"You are the worst with children." You exhaled in disbelief, rolling your eyes at the two in front of you. Absolutely, you knew Daniel would be fit to properly take care of a child. Though it shocked you how messily he usually played with them, and you couldn't help but ponder on the thought of how he would properly raise them if it was up to him.
"I wouldn't be if they were ours." Daniel spoke absently, steadfastly remaining his attention on the son of his sister-in-law. He didn't seem to instantly notice his innocent comment, however, but you definitely did.
Your passionate heart started beating rapidly as your breathing grew uneven. Sure, occasionally, you had eagerly been talking about having a child. But after you concluded the two of you had been extremely busy at the time, you dropped the topic and you hadn't picked up on it for a remarkable long time.
The precious words he had spoken so effortlessly rung through your active mind as you unintentionally kept thinking about a baby of your own. You had been investing so much time in other people their children and hadn't been able to wait until the proper time was there to bring one of your own into the world.
Daniel looked at you after hearing your silence, his hands absently fiddling with a few blocks as your nephew maintained his attention on his own project. Your eager eyes instantly met his and your beating heart started fluttering at the gentle features on his face.
"Would this be the proper moment to discuss this matter?" He talked softly, naturally attempting to keep the boy's focused attention on the lego, even though he wouldn't have been able to follow the meaningful conversation anyway.
"You want to discuss having a baby?" You cautiously started in disbelief, your hands absently finding their way over your stomach. The thought made you smile, and you couldn't believe Daniel had indeed gotten to this point. "Like, our own baby?"
The Australian nodded slowly and sent you a comforting smile, the gears in your head turning like with the great big clock. "Yeah," he started as he absently shifted his concentrated attention to your nephew after feeling a gentle nudge on his arm. "It has consistently been us against the world, so how about we add an addition to that team?"
You smiled reassuringly at his pleasant words as you kept yourself from unintentionally letting out a few tears. There were no proper words present at the back of your throat, so you were hesitant as to what you should reply. Naturally, you were extremely delighted when you heard his extraordinary confession. However, it threw you slightly off guard. How would it be with your own baby? How would you manage his career, your job, and raising your mini?
"I mean," you started cautiously as he returned his gaze to you, much to the dismay of the three-year-old who desperately demanded the attention to be on him. "If we can manage our-" you continued but were interrupted by your nephew, "Auntie Y/n," he started as he made his way over to you with a few legos being clamped in his tiny hands. "Uncle Daniel stopped playing with me." "Ooh, what a shame honey. How about we go and build something instead, yeah?" You said as you subtly shifted your attention away from Daniel and desperately tried to demote the previous moment to the back of your mind.
"I want to build a giraffe!" The boy exclaimed enthusiastically as he messily handed a couple of different coloured blocks to you. "What a challenge," you chuckled as you accepted his offer. "But let's do it. I'm certain we can do better than Uncle Daniel, yeah?" You shot a glance at your boyfriend, who directly received the hint of the ultimate challenge you gave him. "Build battle!" You instantly heard an enthusiastic squeal escape your nephew's lips.
Daniel expectantly looked at you, not sure what he was expecting to hear from you. "We'll resume our talk eventually, yeah?" You informed him quietly, trying to keep your attention on building. The Australian nodded approvingly and offered you a genuine smile, starting on his project as well.
He shot a look at the two of you every now and then, his loyal heart melting at the precious scene he witnessed in front of him. The two of you, seated on the rug in your shared luxury apartment, shutting yourselves out from the outer world. Daniel had completely given up on winning the building contest, being too mesmerised by the beauty of the woman in front of him, playing with her nephew. His heart fluttered at the pleasant thought of you being the mother to his own little Ricciardo, and he hadn't been able to shake that thought from his mind for a while now.
The afternoon continued with building contests and it blew your mind how long your nephew could maintain his full attention on simply building with lego blocks. You would definitely keep it in mind for future references, in case you would need to keep him occupied at some point.
Needless to say, the two of you happily won most of the build battles that you held. Daniel had been way too delighted to allow the son of his sister-in-law to win, but simultaneously, he was too busy letting his mind wander off. He didn't think he could fall in love with you more than he already did, but at that specific point, his heart beat out of his chest like it was his first time realising you were the woman he'd want to go into forever with. He felt like he was the innocent teenager that confessed his love to his first partner. He felt himself fall in love over and over again upon seeing you with children, and he had realised there is nothing more that he'd want than his own child with you.
Neither of you felt like cooking dinner, and since it felt like an exceptional occasion having your nephew around, you decided to order in. The pleasant evening went smoothly, ending in playing video games on your Nintendo WiiU. Once more, Daniel gave the three-year-old too much of an opportunity to achieve his win in Mario Kart. Though he surely wouldn't have been able to beat the CPU in the game, the child was extremely content he was able to comfortably beat a formula one driver in a karting game.
"Good job, buddy," Daniel started after the third time of allowing him to finish in front of him. "We should start our real karting race, soon. Bet you'd be the shining star, huh?" You slightly hit your boyfriend's brawny arm, seemingly thinking it was too dangerous for your beloved nephew to already pick up on racing.
"Hey, it'll be fine. There are junior championships, too." Daniel chuckled lightly as he carefully placed a strong hand on your knee, the passionate gesture sending waves of fire right to your abdomen. The innocent child on the right of you let out an enthusiastic squeal before he gently fell against your side. He let out a big yawn, and you curiously glanced at the clock. It had been way past his bedtime and you realised you had utterly disregarded your sister's instructions.
"It seems like it's time for bed, champion," you started sweetly as you carefully picked him up, taking the controller from his hands and handing it to Daniel. "We can continue tomorrow, we've got plenty of time," you gestured at your boyfriend as you looked at your nephew. "Gonna give uncle Daniel a big goodnight hug?" The toddler in your arms reached for the curly-haired still seated on the sofa as he lovingly took the child in his arms.
"Sweet dreams, tiger. Make sure you'll win from whoever you challenge." Daniel chuckled as he placed a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead before carefully handing him back to you. You smiled at the affectionate gesture and the Australian managed to send those familiar butterflies through your stomach once again.
You put your nephew to bed, making sure he was comfortable and that his stuffed animal was there with him. You traditionally gave him a loving kiss on his rosy cheek, naturally resulting in the sweet boy letting out some enthusiastic giggles. "Good night, fighter." You had smiled before you gently closed the door of the guest room after sending him a hand-blown kiss.
Back in the living room, Daniel had shut off the game console and put on the modern television as a silence filler. He was absently scrolling through his phone, though his mind was still lingering at the meaningful conversation the two of you had started earlier that lovely afternoon.
You encountered the curly-haired cautiously, careful not to frighten him as well as being careful of being overly loud for your nephew to overhear. It rarely took him long to fall asleep, though you definitely wanted to keep him in his dreams.
"Hey, uncle Danny." You chuckled softly as you found a pleasant spot on the sofa on the right side of Daniel, gently letting your head rest on his shoulder and your hand falling on his right thigh. "Hey, sweetheart." He chuckled delightedly as well, placing an intimate kiss on the crown of your head as he instantly turned off his phone. Your eyes wandered off to the television, barely paying attention to what your eyes were observing.
You thought about the insightful comment Daniel had let out earlier that day. You wanted nothing more than a baby, though you still reflected on how you would be able to properly manage the number of times your boyfriend would be away for race weekends and raise a child at the same time. But simultaneously, you wouldn't be the only ones on the grid to set that step in your lives. You would do everything you can to be home a lot at the unfortunate times he wasn't, and you undoubtedly knew the two of you would be able to make it work. Like Daniel said; it had always been you and him against the world, and there was rarely anything you couldn't go up against. Together.
You knew Daniel was aware of your opinion on being too busy to properly raise your child and knew he wouldn't imply such a thing if he wasn't certain it could work out. So, at that moment, you wisely decided it was time. He was ready, he made that clear, and therefore you were, too. You decided you were prepared to go and try for a baby, a little one that you would wonderfully be capable of creating.
"You said you'd like a baby?" You said softly, not taking your eyes off the television. You felt Daniel shift next to you, correctly causing you to feel like he had curiously laid his glittering eyes on your figure. You looked up, your right hand still resting on his thigh, as your eager eyes met his dilated pupils.
"Well, yes," he said, gently caressing your rosy cheek with his strong hand. "I'm certain we could make it work, you know we will," he continued with a smile, one which sent a heatwave down to your stomach once again, your heart melting as you examined his eyes. "Only if you want to, of course."
"I desire nothing rather, Daniel." You smiled as you moved your hand from his thigh to the one that was on your cheek, gently placing it atop his.
"Well, let's get the hell on with it then." He said as you smashed your eager lips onto his. Your heart started beating rapidly out of your chest, experiencing nothing but love for the man in front of you. His gentle touch naturally drove you crazy, getting lost in the divine ecstasy of your delightful intimacy.
You knew that right then, you nothing but wished for one thing; that you would actually be able to fulfil the sincere wish you had progressively developed through the end of your teenage years; being able to bring a child of your own into the world, together with the qualified person you were hopelessly in love with.
Because that is what mattered most; Daniel to be by your side through every pleasant or dreadful moment that would follow next.
————
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Carrying it all on your shoulders (Daniel Ricciardo)
Juggling two kids without Daniel proved to be harder than you thought
Note: english is not my first language. I don't get requests for Daniel that often, and dad!Daniel is very fun and cute to write!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem associated with motherhood and parenting, exhaustion, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Y/N, are you sure you want to do it? I'll do it no problem", your colleague assured you, "even one of the interns can do it, Y/N! Seriously, go home earlier!", she offered.
"I can do it", you added, crossing over the task you had completed on your post it note and writing two more down, "Sophia just started her ballet class and Alice's nursery had a pantomime today so they're keeping the kids for a little longer", you winked at her, gathering the documents and getting ready to complete the task.
Lately, this was your routine. Drop the girls at school and nursery, head up to work, pick the girls up and drive home before homework, playtime, dinner time and then the bedtime routine. When Daniel was still home, it was usually him doing the school and nursery runs so it wasn't like it added a lot to your routine, but it requires more juggling than you initially thought.
By the time you finished the tasks, you were the only one left, shutting down your laptop and closing all of the doors once you had your belongings all packed into your bag, finally calling it a day and heading to your car.
Picking a very sleepy Alice from nursery and then a pouty Sophia from her ballet class, you tried your best to not bother the youngest one, "how was your class today, princess?", you wondered once you stopped at a red light, turning around slightly so you could look at your daughter's face.
"It was okay", she stated, remaining unusually quiet all the way back home as she looked outside the window.
"I'm going to put Alice down for a little nap and then I'll go and help you with your homework, okay?", you said to Sophia as she set her backpack down near her desk, "I don't have any today", she said, closing the door behind her as you walked to Alice's room, laying her down on the mattress and kissing the top of her head, feeling it warmer than usual.
"Oh, babygirl", you cooed, grabbing the thermometer from the medicine cubby and putting it on her ear, silently hoping it was just you.
A minute later, the result showed she was beggining to develop a fever. Sighing, you stored the thermometer in its box and got the medicine from your bathroom, grabbing the syringe to put it in her mouth when you managed to waker her up without a big fuss.
"I know you don't want this, baby", you cooed as Alice stirred in her sleep, big brown eyes looking up at you with tears welling up on them, "take this for mummy, okay?", you pleaded, "you'll feel better, my love", you said, holding her on your arms so she could fall asleep again.
The tiredness came over you pretty quickly, making you sit on the rocking chair, closing your eyes for a little bit and taking a deep breath. Because she was your second child, you didn't feel like the first time Sophia got sick. While in the first time, you ran around like a headless chicken, ready to bring her to the emergency room and messaging her pediatrician until both your parents' and Daniel's parents assured you and your husband you were doing just fine. So far, she didn't seem to bothered by it, just sleep, so you allowed yourself the moment to rest with her, rubbing her back and showering her with kisses and a good cuddle.
"Mummy?", Sophia asked, knocking on the door of her sister's room to announce she was coming in, "what are we having for dinner?", she asked, taking in the sight of you and her sister.
"Oh", you noted, not having given it much thought until that moment, "we can have spaghetti bolognese, I'll just have to boil some pasta - I think we still have some of those heart shapes pastas daddy brought home the other day -, or we could have some chicken nuggets and rice if you prefer that", you offered, thinking of the meal plan meals you had in the fridge as you didn't feel like cooking everything from scratch tonight.
"The spaghetti bolognese is fine", she whispered, coming closer to you and kissing her sister's hand, "is Alice sick?", she questioned.
"She has a bit of a fever, it's probably something she picked up from in nursery, you used to get these every now and again, too", you explained, brushing the curls away from her eyes, "she'll be fine though. Are you feeling okay, beautiful girl?", you checked with her, wanting to be prepared in case both kids came down with this bug.
"I feel fine", she assured you, kissing your cheek before she saw you get up and grabbing the sling, wrapping her sister against you, "do you want to help me with the pasta then?", you smiled, stretching your hand so she could grab it and you both could head to the kitchen.
"I'll set the plates", Sophias offered, making you kiss the top of her head as a thank you and going back to stirring the pasta while the sauce warmed up in another pot.
You ate the food in a quieter environment that usual, and while the reasonable voice in your head told you that it was due to the fact that everyone was a little tired, the snarky and mean one made you feel guilty.
As you washed up the pots and plates from dinner while Sophia spent some time watching cartoons on TV, your mind took you to the mom guilt feelings, rewinding back to all of the times in the last two weeks where you didn't spend time with either of them separately, all of the times where you had to rush to get out of the house all in one piece and all of the things you weren't doing well.
"Soph", you called, "I'm going upstairs to put Alice down, is there anything I can do for you before I go?", you wondered.
"Can I have your phone so I speak to daddy, please?", she asked, "he hasn't called today", she reasoned, "take it from my pocket, bub", you said, tuning your back to her slightly so she could retrieve the device from the denim material, "call me if you need anything, okay?", you checked with her, "okay, mummy! Night night, Alice, I love you", she waved at her sister who blew her a sloppy kiss.
Sitting down on the sofa, Sophia pressed Daniel's contact, smiling at the love heart on the contact despite having seen it many times before, "hey!", Daniel said, a little surprised to see the little girl's face instead of yours.
"Hi daddy!", she smiled, "mummy is putting Alice to sleep so I thought I'd talk to you for a bit", she said, "I have something to tell you".
"Oh, okay, tell me then", Daniel concerned, sensing that what your daughter wanted to tell him was something troubling her.
"I'm confused", she began, "do you remember that book you and mummy read to me and Alice? The one with the monster who is now doctor?", she tried as Daniel nodded.
Anna Llenas was one of your favourite authors for kids' stories and you always read them to your family. The way they spoke about their emotions and how to deal with them became a great tool to get them to talk openly about how they felt and Sophia seemed to be getting it.
"Yes, baby, what about it?", Daniel asked.
"I feel confused, because today I didn't really want to go to the ballet practice but I did it anyway", she said, "so I was really quiet and my friends noticed it, the teacher, too. And mummy, I think she's upset with me, too", she admitted.
"Well, do you remember what the turtle nurse did in the book?", Daniel questioned, "she had her first aid box full of things that make her heart feell warm and good", Sophia mumbled, "go and get it then, princess", Daniel urged.
Sophia pulled the box from under the sofa. The premise of the activity on the book as simple: the kids had to make a box full of things that helped them regulate their emotions and feelings when they felt confused, sad or anxious. While Alice was still too little to make one, Sophia loved the arts and crafts aspect of it and spent the whole afternoon with Daniel making her perfect first aid kit.
"Do you remember what we do with the bee drawing?", Daniel guided, "we take a big breath in, and then a big breath out", he exemplified, doing it three more times with her before speaking up again, "do you feel better?".
"I do, daddy", she said, fishing out something out of the box, "this is the pillow we made with mummy, she sewed it with my favourite soft fabrics", she smiled at the memory, rubbing it on her cheek, "and a picture of us, look!", she showed Daniel the frame with the picture of the first race Alice attended, the four of you in front of the motorhome with big smiles.
"That's right baby, we can also dance it out a little if you want", Daniel offered but she shook her head, showing him the empty bottle of medicine, "this is the 'No medicine', right?", she checked with him. The bottle was of course empty, but the idea was there.
"That's right! Sometimes we have to say no when we don't want to do some things", Daniel advised, remembering the story well enough without having the actual book in front of him, "to adults, we have to be more careful because there are things that we can't run from, but for your ballet classes, for example, you can say you don't want to go if you don't want to, sweetie", he told her earnestly.
"Okay daddy", she whispered, taking another deep breath with her finger following the wavy bee line on the drawing.
"Promise you'll tell me or mummy whenever that happens?", he asked, "I promise, daddy", she smiled, seeming calmer and happier now.
"That's great, Soph. I'm very proud of you for telling me that", he complimented, "Can I ask you about mummy, princess? Is she still upstairs?", he checked with her, not wanting her to think he didn't care about her anymore.
"Yes, daddy", Sophia smiled before pouting, "she's a little tired, and yesterday I think she was crying. I know I wasn't supposed to be up, but I forgot Snuggles by the door", she explained, mentioning her stuffed teddy that she loved to sleep with, "and when I went to pick it up, I heard mummy sniffling, she was doing it quietly but I heard it still", she told him.
Your daughter confirmed his suspicions. Before he left, you spoke about how you were going to handle two kids and your job, and while at the time it seemed good, the practical side of the conversation looked to be otherwise. He called everyday and he noticed you looking more tired each day, but he justified it on the adjustment. Eventually, there would be a day that you finally adapted to the routine, but that was wishful thinking.
"Soph, are you still on the phone with daddy?", you called from the corridor, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb Alice in the sleep you worked so hard in getting her to.
"Hey, gorgeous", Daniel said as you appeared on the screen as Sophia handed you your phone back, "I'm going to get ready for bed, mummy, I'll wait for you when you can read my bedtime story", she smiled, kissing you cheek and saying goodbye to Daniel.
"How was your day?", he asked, "busy busy, but it's over now. Things are going at full speed. Sophia was a bit quieter when she arrived, but she seemed better - no need to rub it in that she's a daddy's girl -, and Alice has caught the bug that has been going around", you shrugged your shoulders, "her temperature is slowly cooling down, and other than that, she's fine", you sighed, "and yours?".
Daniel told you about his meetings, not wanting to pester you too much as he could sense the tiredness you felt, "I'll let you go rest, though. Have a good night, gorgeous", he blew you a kiss before your face disappeared.
Opening his laptop, he looked for a flight that would make him arrive just in time for school pick up, "I can't stay for the rest of the week", Daniel said to the members of the team on the meeting room, "Y/N and the girls need me back home, so if that's okay with you, we'll do these remotely", he half stated, looking for any signs of discontentment or disagreement.
As soon as he got the green light, he couldn't wait to finish that sponsorship content meeting, filming everything he needed to as quickly as possible before bidding goodbye to everyone, going back to the hotel room and pack everything up so he could go to the airport. A long flight away from his wife and kids and all would be well.
Alice didn't sleep all that well, and in turn neither did you, so you called in to work to let them know that you would be working from home as best as you could since your little girl was staying home for the day. Sophia seemed well that morning when you dropped her off at school, soothing your heart from the worries that had plagued you.
"It's me and you, baby girl", you said, kissing the top of her head as she slept on the sling, her fist grasping the fabric of your cardigan as you walked around the house, hoping to really settle her when you heard a car outside.
"Why does that look like daddy?", you mumbled out loud as if Alice could give you her opinion, focusing on the man walking up to the front door and giving you enough time to open it.
"Before you say anything, I had to do it and I won't go back", Daniel raised his hands once he set his luggage inside, closing the door behind him and kissing the top of your head and then Alice's as you stood there surprised.
"Danny, we didn't- I-", you tried, and as if your mouth wouldn't let you lie, the words didn't seem to come out of you.
"I came as soon as I could, and I should've come sooner", he said, "I want to be here for you as much as I can and I need to make sure my girls are okay - all three of them", he looked at you, "Soph told me she heard you crying", he stated as he got you to sit on the sofa in the living room.
"Another point for the greatest mother of the year award", you chastised yourself, taking a deep breath to level out your emotions.
"No, none of that", Daniel offered sternly, "you have been juggling everything on your own and it's harder that we originally thought it would be. I'm sorry it took me so long to come", he apoligised, hands undoing the sling so he could get Alice to rest against his chest instead.
"It's been a lot - and frankly, I haven't been very good at delegating at work", you chuckled, smiling at the delicious sight of a sleeping child on Daniel's chest.
"You also need the 'No medicine' Soph has in her box", he giggled despite the seriousness of the conversation, "I can see that you haven't slept all that much, so why don't you go and have a good sleep?", he suggested, "we'll talk a little bit more about this afterwards, but you need to rest first", he said, "I'll go and pick up Sophia, so you just stay here and take care of yourself, okay?", he said, tapping your butt playfully to get you to get up and head to your bedroom.
While you caught up on sleep, Daniel tidied the house as much as he could before picking up Sophia, who excitedly ran up to her father when she saw him and his sister on the parking lot, "Is mummy with you, too?", she wondered, "no, mummy is resting at home. We are going to get some food for dinner so we can all have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he questioned, earning cheers from her and her sister who qas thankfully feeling much better, giggling in delight as she clapped her hands.
"Who's that? That's mummy, isn't she looking pretty today, Alice? Yes, she is!", Daniel said as you walked into the kitchen, Sophia's notebook open on the table as she wrote on it, "she didn't want to leave the kitchen and I wanted to make pancakes for their snacks, so we found a middle ground", your husband justified himself.
"It's okay", you smiled, kissing everyone's cheeks and tapping Alice's nose, "well, I'm glad you're feeling better, little miss", you said.
"Also, I'm in charge of dinner. I spoke to the people on your team - I'm their boss' husband so I sort of have some power too", he joked, "and they're going to delegate the work these next few days so you can stay home to rest and just work a teeny tiny little bit. I also plan on doing the school pick ups and cooking", he smiled, proud of his plans.
"I'm okay to help, too, Daniel, really", you tried, "no need for that, like I said! I'm going to take charge of the next few days, there's no reason why I can't and it's going to be great", he giggled, "we're in this together, darling, and there's no way you're carrying this all on your shoulders".
ੈ✩ drivers sending you pictures of bf! daniel ✩
warning : fluff
a/n: I hope you like it and feedback is always appreciated! requests are open as well !
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Ex-Best Friend Yoongi x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing, heavy drinking, poverty, almost death, hospitals, abandonment, jealousy, revenge sex. Will update as chapters progress
Word Count: 2, 963
New story I’ll be posting. My plan is for this to only be 4-5 chapters. Hope you guys like it!♥️
The first thing Min Yoongi said to you after all these years was—
“Still eating that terrible marshmallow cereal, huh?”
You froze in the middle of the kitchen with an overflowing grocery bag digging into your fingers. Your apartment suddenly felt too small. Too hot. Too full of him. Yoongi stood near the counter like he belonged there this whole time. Like he didn’t disappear from your life without explanation. Like he didn’t stop answering texts after eleven years of friendship and one almost-confession that still lived under your skin like a splinter.
Your roommate Mina beamed beside him completely unaware she had just detonated a bomb in your little two bedroom apartment. “You guys know each other already?”, she asked. You stared at her. Then at him. Then at the three massive suitcases by the front door.
No. Absolutely not.
Mina kept talking, “I told you my boyfriend needed somewhere to stay while he looked for a new place, remember?”
Boyfriend. The word landed ugly in your chest. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking away from yours first.
Coward.
You glared at him. He looked exhausted but still good. Dark hoodie. Ripped jeans. Dark hair longer than the last time you saw him. He still wore too many rings on his fingers. But he had faint shadows beneath his eyes and looked thinner than you remembered.
He used to text you every stupid thought he had even at 2 a.m. Now he couldn’t even look at you properly. Mina laughed nervously, “Okay…weird energy going on here.”
“You think?”, you muttered. Yoongi exhaled slowly, “I can stay somewhere else.” Something sharp twisted in your stomach at how easily he said it. Like leaving again would be simple. Like it would solve everything. Like you didn’t still remember standing outside his apartment in the rain after he vanished from your life because you were terrified something horrible had happened to him. Like you didn’t spend months grieving someone who was still alive.
Mina looked between the two of you, “Hold on…did something happen between you two? Yoongi’s jaw tightened. You set the groceries down harder than necessary, “Ask your boyfriend.” The title sounded poisonous coming out of your mouth. His eyes flashed at that. Good. You hoped it would hurt him. Mina’s voice softened carefully, “Did you guys date?” “No.”, you said immediately. Yoongi said nothing and that felt worse.
You successfully avoided him for the next few hours. Then you walked into the kitchen at midnight wearing old sleep shorts and one of your oversized college hoodies only to find him standing barefoot at the stove making ramen. The sight hit you so hard it nearly stole your breath. Because this…this used to be your normal.
Late nights. Shared meals. Comfortable silence. Him handing you the first bite without even asking. Home.
Yoongi glanced over his shoulder. His gaze caught on your bare legs for half a second before he looked away. “You still hate mushrooms?”, he asked quietly. You crossed your arms, “You still disappear when things get difficult?”
The kitchen went still. Rain tapped softly against the apartment windows. Yoongi turned the stove off, “I deserved that.” You laughed once. Bitter, “That’s all you have to say?”
“No.”, he shook his head. You scoffed, “Then explain it.” He dragged a hand through his hair, visibly tired, “Not tonight Y/N.”
You remembered sleeping on his shoulder during train rides, him carrying your drunk self home once without complaining, the way everyone always assumed you were together, the night he almost kissed you on your apartment fire escape as you watched the New Year’s Eve fireworks explode over the city. The night everything changed.
You leaned against the counter, heart pounding too hard, “You know what the worst part was?” Yoongi stayed silent. “I thought you died.”, you said trying to steady your voice, “Or got seriously hurt. Or that…you hated me.” That finally broke him. His eyes closed briefly and for the first time since he walked back into your life, he looked genuinely wrecked.
“I know.”, he said softly. Your throat tightened against your will, “I called your parents. I called your brother. I even called your ex. No one would tell me where you were or what happened. You don’t get to come back now and act normal.” He shook his head, “I’m not trying to.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”, you asked. His gaze lifted to yours slowly, “I didn’t know if you’d still look at me the same after what happened. I couldn’t stand the thought of it.” Your chest ached because despite everything, Despite the anger and humiliation and heartbreak…You still did. That was the problem. You hated that part most.
Mina broke the tension by stumbling into the kitchen half asleep looking for water. You stepped away from Yoongi so fast it was almost embarrassing. His mouth twitched when he noticed. “Why are you guys awake?”, Mina yawned. You and Yoongi remained silent. She squinted at both of you, “Okay…whatever weird ex fuckbuddy energy this is, can you save it for daylight?”
You nearly choked. Yoongi coughed into his fist to hide a laugh. And for one awful second, it felt normal again. Like the old days when you and him used to share secret looks across crowded rooms because nobody else understood your humor. Then Mina shuffled back to bed and reality settled over the apartment again. You pointed at the ramen pot you hadn’t seen in years, “You stole my favorite pot.”
“You used to steal my hoodies.”, he responded. You laughed, “I gave those back.” He disagreed, “No, you absolutely didn’t. Not all of them.” You opened your mouth to argue, then stopped because you still had one. Folded in the back of your closet. The black Chicago Bulls one with paint stains on the sleeve from the time he helped you paint the kitchen in your first apartment.
Yoongi watched realization cross your face. Slowly, one eyebrow lifted. Heat crept up your neck, “Don’t.”
“You still have it?”, he smirked. You rolled your eyes, “Shut up.” His laugh was quiet. It slipped under your ribs too easily. You hated that your body still remembered him. The cadence of his voice. The way his shoulders shook slightly when he laughed for real. The way he always looked at you like you were the only thing worth listening to. That was all before he disappeared.
Your expression hardened again. The shift was instant enough that his smile faded. “You still haven’t answered me.”, you crossed your arms again. Yoongi looked down at the stove. Silence stretched. Rain kept tapping against the windows. Finally, he said quietly, “My dad got sick.”
You blinked. That was not what you expected at all. He continued, “He collapsed at work. Cardiac arrest. Spent a few weeks in the intensive care. Nearly died twice. My mom got so stressed out she ended up in the hospital too. Debt piled up. They almost lost their apartment. Everything happened at once and it was all on me to fix. I was stressed. I got really depressed. I was drinking more than I should’ve. I wasn’t eating or sleeping.”
Some of the anger inside you faltered. But only some, “That doesn’t explain ghosting me.” His jaw tightened, “Y/N I was drowning.” That angered you, “So you decided to drown alone?”
“I decided…”, He stopped himself hard enough that you noticed. He lowered his voice, “I didn’t think I could be what you needed anymore. You were getting close to graduating. You had a new job lined up and you were talking to that guy. I knew you’d drop everything for me and I didn’t want to become a burden to you…so I left and went to stay with a friend for a while until I could get my shit back in order.”
Your stomach twisted, “That wasn't your decision to make.” He took a deep breath, “Yeah…I know that now.” The honesty caught you off guard. Yoongi was always terrible at talking about himself especially when it came to his feelings. He used to disappear for days whenever life got a little tough, then show back up pretending nothing happened but never like this, never to this extent.
You stared at him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”His eyes finally met yours because he still knew when you were asking the real question underneath.
Why didn’t you trust me?
Why wasn’t I worth staying for?
Yoongi’s voice came out rough, “Because I was embarrassed that I wasn’t mentally strong enough and…I’m always worried about going down that path again…I never wanted you to see me like that…Because I was in love with you.”
The apartment went completely silent. Every muscle in your body locked. He looked horrified immediately after saying it aloud, like the confession escaped by accident. All those almost moments suddenly rearranged themselves into something unbearable.
The fire escape.
The lingering touches.
The jealousy neither of you acknowledged.
The way he looked at every guy you dated like he was trying not to murder them.
Your heart pounded so hard you felt sick. Yoongi laughed once under his breath, miserable, “There…happy now?”
“No.”, you whispered, “You disappeared anyway. You left me alone. Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of you? How many events were ruined because all I could think about was you and how I wanted you there with me?”
That landed with him. You saw it. The guilt. The regret. The self-loathing he’s probably carried for years. But it didn’t magically fix you. Because loving someone and abandoning them can’t exist in the same sentence.
Yoongi rubbed his hand over his mouth, “Y/N I thought if I stayed close to you, eventually I’d ruin you too.”
“You ruined me by leaving.”, you said. The words came out sharper than intended. He flinched and you hated that too. Because even now, part of you wanted to take it back. You turned away before he could see your eyes getting glossy, “Go to sleep, Yoongi. You get headaches when you stay up too late.”
“Y/N…I missed you every day.”, he said so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.
Your body physically ached. You gripped the edge of the counter harder. You didn’t look at him because if you looked at him right now, you might forgive him too soon. And he hadn’t earned that yet. Instead you walked away and shut your door a little harder than necessary.
After that night, living with Yoongi became a game of strategic avoidance. A stupid, exhausting, painful game.
You learned his routines within a week despite trying not to. He left for work early. Came home late. Fell asleep on the couch sometimes with his glasses crooked on his face.
And worst of all was that he acted normal. Not fully normal. Not warm. Not cold. Just carefully there like he was trying not to push you too hard. Which irritated you more because every now and then you still caught him looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention and there was still something heartbreakingly familiar in it.
Then Mina kissed him goodbye in front of you one morning and you remembered exactly why you should hate him. So you settled into a rhythm. Short answers. Minimal eye contact. Passive aggressive sticky notes on the fridge instead of talking it out like adults.
At one point Mina laughed so hard she snorted and said, “You two are literally like an old married couple.” Neither of you responded. Which said enough.
*
The thing with Jungkook started because he was easy in a good way. Easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. Easy on the eyes. Easy in the way Yoongi never was.
You both worked at the same law firm. You were a paralegal and he worked in marketing. You flirted shamelessly and he had asked you out three times before you finally said yes. Mostly because you were tired of feeling stuck. Partially because a small and admittedly ugly part of you wondered what Yoongi would do if and when he found out.
Your answer came on Friday night. You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror fixing your earrings when the door knocked once. “Occupied.”, you called. You opened the door a few moments later. Yoongi stopped when he saw you and for a second he just stared. You suddenly became hyperaware of everything, the little black dress hugging your body, the expensive and only for special occasions perfume on your neck, the heels you almost never wore.
Yoongi looked unfairly good himself in a dark long sleeve shirt and loose sweatpants, hair damp from a shower earlier. His eyes dragged over you once before he stopped himself. Something tight flashed across his face. You crossed your arms, “What?”
“Nothing.”, he shook his head. “Then why are you standing there like you saw a ghost?”, you angrily asked him. His jaw ticked, “You just…look nice.” The compliment landed with dangerous softness. You hated that your stomach flipped anyway, “…Thanks.”
Silence followed. Then he asked, “Where are you going?” You shrugged like it didn’t mean anything, “A date.” Then you saw it. The shift. His expression smoothed too quickly to be natural, “With who?” You leaned against the sink casually, “Jungkook.”
“The guy from work?”, he questioned almost comically. You raised an eyebrow, “You know about Jungkook?” Yoongi tried to act casual, “Mina talks.” You almost smiled, “Well, he’s picking me up in ten.” Yoongi nodded once slowly. Then another pause, “…Do you know him well?” You blinked, “Excuse me?” He shrugged, “I’m just asking because guys can be weirdos.” A laugh escaped you before you can stop it, “You do not get to act protective right now.” His eyes narrowed slightly, “I’m not acting like anything.”
“You vanished for years and now suddenly you care who picks me up?”, you laughed harder this time. “That’s not…”, he tried but you cut him off, “And you’re dating my roommate so you have no right to worry about me any more.” The words hit clean. Sharp. Yoongi went quiet instantly. Because neither of you had actually talked about it. Not really or in a way you should have. You swallowed past the sudden tightness in your throat, “So let’s not start this.”
For a moment he just looked at you then quietly, “I’m not dating Mina.” Your heart stuttered, “What?…She called you her boyfriend.” Yoongi rubbed a hand over his face like he was exhausted suddenly, “Mina and I hook up sometimes. It’s…she keeps calling it more than that but it’s never been made official and I’m not sure what I want so I’ve just been going with it for now.” You stared at him.
Something ugly and hopeful sparked in your chest before you crushed it immediately, “Well…that still makes this none of your business…and…maybe you should figure that out before you hurt her too.” Yoongi nodded like he already knew he was walking down a dangerous path with that.
A knock sounded at the front door. Jungkook. Yoongi’s whole body visibly stiffened. Petty satisfaction curled warm in your stomach. You brushed past him before he could say anything else.
Jungkook stood outside holding flowers. Yoongi was the only other guy to ever buy you flowers. “Wow Y/N.”, he said the second he saw you, “You look…wow.” You laughed softly, “You already said wow.”
“I know. I panicked. Words are really hard right now.”, he embarrassedly chuckled. Then Yoongi appeared behind you and the entire mood changed. Jungkook straightened slightly. Yoongi leaned against the doorway with crossed arms, expression unreadable, “So…you’re Jungkook.” Jungkook blinked, “Uh…yeah.” You could practically feel the testosterone swirling in the air. Yoongi’s gaze drifted to the flowers. Then back to Jungkook. “She likes daisies not carnations.”, he smirked. Your jaw dropped, “Yoongi.”
“What?”, he said innocently. Jungkook looked deeply confused now, “Are you her brother or something?” You snorted. Yoongi said flatly, “No.” You grabbed your purse before the situation got any more strained, “Ignore him. He’s just being an asshole.” Jungkook laughed awkwardly, “I’ll try.”
As he led you down the hall, you glanced back once which was a huge mistake. Yoongi was still standing there watching you leave and the look on his face made your stomach drop. He looked absolutely furious.
The date went well. Jungkook was sweet and attentive and kept making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. You almost forgot about Yoongi entirely. Until Jungkook took you home around midnight and said quietly, “So…I think that guy hates me. He looked like he wanted to punch me.” You groaned into your hands, “I’m so sorry. Please don’t pay any attention to him.”
And then as you opened the front door you heard it.
The sound hit you harder the second you stepped inside the apartment. A laugh that was Mina’s. Then Yoongi’s voice low enough you couldn’t make out the words. Then another laugh.
Then unmistakably…moaning. Your entire body went still. Once again the apartment suddenly felt too hot. Too small. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat behind you. “Oh…well….”, he chuckled, “They’re having a fun night I guess.” Humiliation burned up your neck instantly. Because they were being loud. Like suspiciously loud. The headboard was hitting the wall loudly, over and over. Mina gasping loud. Yoongi begging her to be louder in between his own unnecessarily loud grunts and groans. Like they wanted someone to hear.
Your chest tightened so painfully it hurt to breathe. You felt your eyes burning. Jungkook shifted, “Y/N…do you…do you want to come back to my place instead?”
And maybe if this had happened yesterday or the day before, you would’ve said no. But tonight? Tonight, anger tasted better than heartbreak. You looked toward their closed bedroom door. Then back at Jungkook.
And something reckless bloomed inside you. “Yeah.”, you said loudly, “I’ll stay at your place tonight.”
From behind the bedroom wall…
silence. Complete. Instant.
Like someone stopped moving the second the words left your mouth.
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Run Back to You | MYG
Summary: Sometimes love isn't grand gestures or dramatic confessions. Sometimes it's waking up early for a video call, carrying flour sacks at a bakery, crossing thousands of kilometers just to see someone, and quietly saying, 'I missed you too.' Status: Oneshot Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Word Count: 9.8k~ Genre: Idol!AU, Fluff Rated: T Tags: Boyfriend!Yoongi, Reader is a Baker, LDR, Secret, Drama, Slice of Life, North American Concert Posting Date: May 30, 2026 SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
The morning in Seoul was still too cold when you opened the back door of the bakery. The air slipped inside before you even had the chance to pull your hoodie tighter around yourself. The street outside was still quiet. The lights of the shop next door weren't on yet. Even the sky was still a dark gray, as if the city hadn't fully woken up.
The morning routine was almost always the same.
Turn on the lights.
Coffee machine.
Check the dough that had been prepared the night before.
Organize the shelves.
Count the stock.
And then, slowly, the bakery would begin to fill with your favorite scents. Warm butter. Bread fresh out of the oven. Coffee is still steaming.
You used to do everything by yourself. Not anymore. Because for the past few months, there had been one person who, for some reason, had started showing up far too often at absurd hours like this.
Min Yoongi.
At first, it was only occasionally. Then it became a habit.
Sometimes he arrived wearing an oversized black hoodie with a cap pulled low. Sometimes his hair was still slightly messy, like he'd just gotten out of bed. Sometimes his eyes weren't even fully open yet. But he still came. Still helped. And always with the same reason.
"I don't want you lifting everything by yourself."
Even though you'd told him countless times that the bakery was your job, not his. But Yoongi was stubborn. Too stubborn sometimes.
That morning, a delivery truck had just arrived with ingredients. You were checking the invoice when several boxes started being moved to the back area.
"Don't you—"
Too late.
Yoongi had already lifted a sack of flour. Heavy. Heavier than what he should have been carrying alone.
"You really—"
"I can do it."
"You're stubborn."
"So are you."
Just like always. Just like dozens of other mornings. Except lately—something had changed.
At first, it was small. Almost impossible to notice. Unless you knew his habits too well. The flour sack eventually reached its destination. He set it down carefully. Then stood there. Quiet for a few seconds. Not moving right away.
Usually, he'd immediately grab the next thing. Or walk over to bother you while you work. Or pretend to ask for free coffee. Not that day. One hand rested briefly on his hip. His breathing was slightly heavier. And for some reason— a bad feeling settled in your chest. Because you were starting to realize. Over the past few months— Min Yoongi had been getting tired more easily.
The bakery closed earlier that night. The lights in the front area were switched off one by one. The atmosphere that was usually lively slowly became quiet.
Only the hum of the air conditioner remained. The sound of plastic wrapping that still hadn't been cleaned up. And the sweet scent of bread that always lingered until night.
You were washing equipment when you realized Yoongi wasn't around. Strange. He was usually there. Either sitting in one of the front chairs scrolling through his phone. Or lying on the small sofa in the back. Or bothering you while you work.
Eventually, you walked to the storage room. And found him there. Sitting on the floor. His back leaned against a shelf of ingredients. His head slightly lowered. A water bottle still in his hand. Unopened.
"What are you doing here?"
He lifted his head slightly. "Nothing."
"You're tired."
"No."
"You're lying."
"You're annoying."
"You're tired."
This time he didn't answer. And Yoongi's silence— sometimes told the truth better than words.
Eventually, you sat down beside him. The storage room floor was cold. Tall shelves surrounded you. Quiet. Peaceful. And for a while— you simply sat there. Like always.
"Have you noticed?" his voice finally came out softly.
"Hm?"
"I've been getting tired more easily lately."
You stayed quiet. Because you had noticed. You'd noticed for a long time. You just never said anything.
"I've gained weight."
"You're cute."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Yoongi let out a slow breath. And for the first time— you saw a hint of frustration on his face. Not directed at you. At himself. "I get tired just helping you a little."
"Yoongi—"
"I don't like it."
The room fell silent again. You looked at his hands. His fingers were clasped together. An old habit. He always did that whenever he had too much on his mind.
"I want to work out again."
"You already exercise."
"More seriously."
"You're healthy."
"I want to be healthier."
"Why?"
He stayed quiet for a long time. His gaze remained fixed ahead. At the ingredient shelves. At the stacked boxes. At the sacks of flour that had made him sit in this room for too long earlier. Then, softly— his voice came out.
"So I can keep helping you."
Simple. Far too simple. And somehow, that made your chest tighten. Because Min Yoongi was always like that.
His care always arrived quietly. Never loud. Never grand. But always there. Always consistent.
You finally rested your head against his shoulder. A shoulder that now felt slightly broader. Slightly warmer. Slightly more comfortable.
"I like you like this."
"Hm."
"A little chubbier doesn't matter."
"Hm."
"You're cuter."
"Hm."
"Better to hug."
Silence. A few seconds.
Then— "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
You smiled. Because even without seeing his face— you knew. His ears were definitely turning red.
Two months later— he started running. Slowly. Consistently. In the mornings. Sometimes at night. Sometimes while complaining. Sometimes saying his legs hurt. Sometimes video calling you while lying down after exercising. And somehow— running stopped being just exercise. It became something he genuinely enjoyed.
Then Stanford happened. And somehow— while he was touring in California, and you were in Seoul, the distance felt strange. Because normally— he was always there. At the bakery. On the apartment sofa. Beside you. Now he wasn't.
The day of the race— you woke up earlier than usual. Not because of an alarm. Not because of the bakery. But because you were nervous.
The video call came right as the Seoul sky was beginning to turn pale blue. And on the screen— there he was. Black hoodie. Gray shorts. Blue cap. Eyes still looking sleepy. But that small smile— was exactly the same.
"You haven't slept?" His voice was soft.
Of course, because of the time difference. It was still very early morning in Stanford, while it was already nighttime in Seoul.
"Yeah."
"Working?"
"Yeah. Checking inventory."
A brief silence. The two of you simply looked at each other. And strangely— sometimes missing someone showed itself most through the smallest things.
"Are you nervous?" you asked.
"A little."
"You can do it."
"Hm."
"You've trained for this."
"Hm."
"You're amazing."
He lowered his head for a moment. And you almost laughed. Because after all this time— Min Yoongi still got embarrassed so easily.
"I'm proud of you," you said softly.
Not because of the race. Not because of Stanford. Not because of the twelve kilometers. But because of his effort. Because of his consistency. Because of the way he always tried to become the best version of himself— not for anyone else. But because he wanted to live healthier. Longer. Stronger. For the little things. For the bakery. For helping you. For the future.
A few hours later— morning arrived, and you began getting ready. The message was already there before you woke up.
One photo.
Yoongi.
Cheeks slightly flushed.
Hair messy. A black T-shirt slightly damp with sweat. A medal hanging around his neck. And a small smile that instantly warmed your chest. There was only one message.
Yoongi: Finished.
I don't think I get tired that easily anymore when helping you carry flour.
You stared at the screen for a long moment. Your day was only just beginning. You were getting ready to start your day. Slowly, your thumb moved.
You: I liked the old you. I like you now too.
Typing.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Yoongi replied quickly. Maybe because it was already afternoon there, and Yoongi didn't have any plans until later, so he had been waiting for your reply.
Yoongi: I know. But I want to stay healthy for a long time.
A few seconds passed.
Yoongi: Because I still want to help you with so many things.
And somehow— in the middle of an ordinary day— a day that was only just beginning— your eyes started to sting. Because being loved by Min Yoongi really was that simple.
It wasn't about grand gestures. It wasn't about grand words. It was about someone— who traveled thousands of kilometers. Ran twelve kilometers. And still came back— with the exact same heart.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The nights in Seoul seemed to move more slowly when the person who usually filled the apartment with the sound of soft footsteps, cabinet doors opening and closing carelessly, or quiet humming of some random song was thousands of kilometers away.
The bakery closed almost an hour later than usual that night.
Your body felt heavy. Your shoulders ached. The soles of your feet hurt slightly from standing too long. The day had been too busy. There had been a last-minute extra order, the ingredients arrived later than expected, and somehow the coffee machine had decided to act up during the busiest hours.
Usually, on days like this, Yoongi would quietly appear in the back kitchen of the bakery.
Without saying much.
Without making a fuss.
Just showing up.
And somehow, little by little, the work would become easier.
He would grab empty boxes before you even had the chance to walk over to them. Lift ingredients without being asked. Stand beside your workstation while watching you decorate bread, then a few minutes later start sneaking small pieces that you hadn't even finished decorating yet.
Small things. Simple things. But enough to make a place feel different. And now—the bakery felt emptier. The apartment did too.
You had just finished showering when the phone on the table lit up.
Yoongi's name appeared on the screen.
Your fingers moved faster than usual. Because sometimes, that's what missing someone does.
The video call connected. And for the first few seconds—everything felt normal.
Too normal.
Yoongi was still wearing a black T-shirt. His hair was slightly messy. He still looked sleepy. The hotel room wasn't brightly lit. Only a small lamp beside the bed was on, casting soft shadows along one side of his face.
Tired.
That was the first thing that came to your mind.
Not ordinary tired.
The kind of tired you knew too well.
The kind that came after spending too much energy.
It was still very early morning in Stanford. Yoongi wasn't someone who liked waking up early. But he knew it was already late at night in Seoul. If he didn't wake up early, there was a good chance he wouldn't get to video call you.
"Did the concert end?"
Your voice sounded quieter because it was so late.
He gave a small nod. His movements were slow. His eyes stayed on the screen.
But there was something.
Something that slowly made your brows knit together.
Yoongi usually didn't move around much when he was exhausted. You knew that.
But tonight felt a little different.
The way he shifted his sitting position. The way he slightly paused before moving one leg. The way his hand occasionally touched his left knee. Too subtle for most people to notice. But not for you. Because you knew him too well.
"You're really tired."
Yoongi only nodded again.
Behind him, you could see a towel tossed carelessly onto the sofa. His concert jacket half-folded on the chair near the hotel desk. An open bottle of water beside the bed.
Very Min Yoongi.
And normally, little messy things like that would actually make you feel relieved. Because it meant he was truly resting. But tonight—that uneasy feeling wouldn't go away.
If anything, it only grew stronger.
Until Yoongi finally leaned forward slightly. Reached down beneath the table. And your stomach immediately dropped. An ice pack. A cold compress.
He lifted one leg slightly before placing the ice pack beneath his knee.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Far too carefully.
The apartment suddenly felt much quieter.
"What's wrong with your leg?"
It wasn't really a question. More like something that slipped out before you could stop it.
Yoongi stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then shook his head. "It's nothing."
Too fast. Too automatic. And you knew him too well.
Out of everyone in the world, you were probably one of the few people who knew exactly when Min Yoongi started leaving details out of his stories.
You didn't say anything right away. You simply watched. The way he sat. The way he shifted positions. The way one leg seemed noticeably more careful than usual.
And the longer you watched— the clearer it became. That bad feeling had been right.
"You were limping earlier."
This time— he really went silent. Completely silent.
"You saw?"
"I saw some concert videos earlier."
Short clips had already started spreading online a few hours ago. People had begun talking about it. The way Yoongi walked a little differently. The way his steps seemed slower. The way he occasionally looked like he was avoiding putting too much weight on one side.
Fans were worried. Very worried. Because they cared. And you understood. Because you felt exactly the same.
"It was after the run."
His voice finally came out. Soft. Casual. As if it weren't a big deal. But because it sounded too casual— you knew. He was trying to make it sound unimportant.
"You ran twelve kilometers, Yoongi."
"Hm."
"And you had a concert too."
"Hm."
"Do you ever rest?"
"Hm."
You let out a slow sigh. Because of course.
Short answers like those usually appeared whenever Min Yoongi believed he was perfectly fine. Even when he wasn't.
The ice pack was still resting against his knee. Every now and then his hand pressed lightly against his leg. Not because it hurt. More because it was sore. Fatigue.
A body that had been pushed too hard. And suddenly— you remembered a few months ago.
The bakery storage room. The sack of flour. The way he sat on the floor for too long after helping you. The way his breathing had been slightly heavier. The way he admitted—for the first time—that he'd been getting tired more easily lately.
Back then, you thought it was temporary. Apparently, it wasn't.
He had been serious. Very serious. About exercising. About running. About taking care of himself. About staying healthy. And the thing that made your heart feel the strangest— was the reason. Because even now— you could still remember it clearly.
"I want to be healthier."
"What for?"
"So I can keep helping you."
It was that simple. And somehow, that made everything feel enormous.
"You're too hard on yourself."
Your voice finally came out softly. Almost like you were talking to yourself. Yoongi stayed quiet for a long time.
The hotel lamp cast soft shadows across his face. He looked like he was thinking. Or maybe choosing his words.
"I just don't want to get tired so easily anymore."
You stayed silent. Because you knew. You knew exactly.
"I don't like seeing you carry things by yourself."
Your chest immediately felt full again.
Again.
And always.
Because Min Yoongi was always like that. His care wasn't loud. Wasn't grand. Wasn't dramatic. But it was consistent. Quiet. Always there.
"I like you chubbier too. Your cheeks are cute."
A tiny movement. Almost impossible to notice. But you saw it. His ears were turning red.
"You're nice to hug."
"Stop."
Finally. An answer. And you almost laughed. Because after all this time— he was still so easy to embarrass.
"You don't have to be skinny for me."
"I know."
"You don't have to change."
"I know."
"Then why?"
This time— he looked directly at the screen. A calm gaze. Gentle. Home.
"I just want to be stronger."
Silence.
The apartment in Seoul. The hotel in Stanford. Two different places. Two different countries. But somehow, they felt close.
"I still want to help you at the bakery."
Your chest warmed again.
"I still want to carry flour."
Your eyes began to sting.
"I still want to take care of you for a long time."
And Min Yoongi was always like that. Making the simplest things feel like the biggest things.
On the screen, he finally shifted slightly. He looked more exhausted now. Maybe he really was tired. Maybe he really needed to rest.
"You should go back to sleep."
"Hm."
"Keep icing it first."
"Hm."
"Don't walk around too much tomorrow."
"Hm."
"Min Yoongi."
"What."
"Come home soon."
And for the first time that night, that small smile appeared again. Soft. Peaceful. The one you always loved.
"Hm."
Outside the apartment in Seoul, the city lights were still glowing. The bakery was already closed. The day was over.
But one thing suddenly felt much clearer. Min Yoongi might really be trying to become stronger. Healthier. Less easily exhausted. But to you, he was already enough. He always had been.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The night grew later.
The clock in the corner of your phone screen showed an hour that was usually already too late to still be awake. Seoul had fallen silent first. The streets below the apartment were growing empty. The lights in the buildings across from you went out one by one. Only a few windows still glowed faintly in the distance.
The video call was still going. There wasn't much talking. And strangely enough—you two were often like this.
There were days when conversations flowed endlessly. There were days when Yoongi stayed mostly quiet while working on something. There were days when you were busy preparing dough for tomorrow while your phone sat carelessly on the kitchen counter, and Yoongi simply kept you company from the screen, occasionally asking small things.
"Have you eaten?"
"Tired?"
"Was it busy today?"
Simple.
But enough.
Tonight belonged to the second category.
Yoongi was still half-lying on the hotel bed. The ice pack wasn't being used anymore. His hair was still slightly messy. The room looked brighter now because morning had arrived in Stanford, and the hotel window was halfway open. His face looked more relaxed now compared to an hour ago.
Maybe because the soreness in his leg was getting better. Or maybe—because he'd finally managed to convince you that he was really okay.
You were now sitting on the sofa in the apartment living room. A thin blanket covered your legs. Your phone rested against the small table in front of the sofa. The living room lights weren't all turned on. Only the lamp in the corner near the bookshelf.
Quiet. Comfortable. Home.
"Are you tired?"
Yoongi's voice came softly from the screen. "Hm."
"Was the bakery busy?"
"Busy."
"You carried things again."
Not a question. A statement. And you immediately let out a small sigh. "Not much."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You think I don't know."
You tilted your head slightly against the sofa. Your gaze stayed on the screen. And as always—Min Yoongi was wearing that expression. Calm. Blank. But stubborn. The one that usually meant he'd been thinking about something for too long.
"You need to hire another person."
You stayed quiet for a few seconds. Because honestly—you already knew where this conversation was heading. Your bakery wasn't that big. Not busy enough to need a lot of people.
There were already two employees helping. Alternating shifts. It was enough. It had always been enough.
"You only have two people."
"It's enough."
"It's not."
"It is."
"No."
You almost smiled. Because of his tone. Because of the way he said "no" that was so familiar. So very Min Yoongi.
"You're tired."
"Everyone gets tired from work."
"You do too much by yourself."
"I'm not alone."
"You know what I mean."
Of course you knew what he meant. You knew too well. Because over the past few months—since Yoongi had been away more often. Touring more. Traveling back and forth more.
He had started thinking about many things. Small things. Things you probably didn't even think much about yourself.
Like whether you were eating on time. Whether you got home too late. Whether you were lifting too many things. Whether you were getting enough rest.
Sometimes—the way Min Yoongi loved someone was like that. Quietly. But completely.
"I'll pay for it."
Your eyes immediately returned to the screen. "What?"
"Hiring another person."
"Yoongi."
"I'm serious."
"You don't need to."
"I'm on tour all the time."
He shifted his position slightly. His voice was softer now. Calmer. "So I'm going to be helping you less."
Your chest warmed slightly. Again. Because somehow—even after all the traveling. All the concerts. All the schedules. His thoughts still found their way to your small bakery in Seoul.
Still found their way to the ingredient boxes. The bread shelves. The kitchen counter in the back. To you.
"It's not about the money."
"I know."
"My bakery isn't even that big."
"Hm."
"Besides, I like being busy."
He stayed quiet. You continued softly. "I like working there."
And it was true. You liked arriving before opening hours. You liked the smell of the first bread coming out of the oven. You liked the sound of the coffee machine. You liked when the store started filling with customers. You liked the exhaustion. You liked being busy.
The bakery wasn't just a job. The bakery was your life. And maybe—the way you loved something wasn't all that different from Yoongi. Consistent. Quiet. But deep.
"Besides..." your voice grew smaller now.
"Hm."
"You're on tour."
"Hm."
"It's easier for me if I'm busy too."
"Hm."
"So I don't—"
You stopped. Too late. Because Yoongi's expression immediately changed. Just slightly. Almost impossible to notice. But you saw it.
A gaze becoming more relaxed. The corner of his mouth began to lift. Dangerous.
"So you don't know what?" Yoongi asked teasingly.
"Nothing."
"So you don't know what?" Yoongi asked again. He really loved teasing you.
"Nothing."
"You miss me."
"No."
"Hm."
"No."
"That's why you're keeping yourself busy?" Yoongi adjusted his position, bringing his face closer to the phone screen.
"No."
"So you don't keep thinking about me?"
"Min Yoongi."
"So it's that bad."
"Yoongi."
"You miss me."
You immediately pulled the blanket higher. Not because you were cold. Because you were embarrassed. And the most annoying part— he knew. Of course he knew. Because now—that small smile had appeared. The smile was too calm. Too satisfied. The one that usually appeared whenever he'd successfully made you flustered.
"Who's the one video calling almost every night?"
"Because we're in different countries."
"Who's the one who said the apartment feels empty?"
"Because it is empty."
"Who's the one who—"
"Min Yoongi."
"Yes."
"You're annoying."
"Hm," Yoongi hummed, his gummy smile fully visible. Even though he looked tired, he was still ridiculously handsome.
"I'm hanging up."
"You're not."
"How do you know?"
"Because you miss me."
And annoyingly enough—he was right. Because over the past few weeks—you'd started to realize. Being busy helped. The bakery helped. Your routine helped. Being exhausted helped.
But there was still a small empty space. Because usually there was someone sitting on the sofa bothering you while you worked. Or quietly appearing behind you while you baked bread. Or pretending to help, only to make everything more complicated in the end.
And now—that part is gone. For now.
"When are you coming home?"
Your voice is softer now. More honest.
Yoongi's expression immediately changed. Gentler. "A few more days."
"That's long."
"Not much longer."
"You've been saying that since last week."
He laughed softly. Quietly. A sound that, even after all this time, remained one of your favorite things. "I'll come home."
"Hm."
"I'll help at the bakery."
"Hm."
"I'll carry things."
"Hm."
"You shouldn't do everything by yourself."
You stayed quiet. Because suddenly—the longing felt bigger. And Min Yoongi—with all the concerts. All the tours. All the thousands of kilometers between you—still managed to make one thing feel very simple.
Home, it turned out, wasn't always a place. Sometimes, it was a person.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The night continued on slowly. It was already far too late, honestly. In Seoul, the hour was creeping closer to the time when both of you would normally have disappeared beneath your own blankets. The apartment felt quiet. Too quiet. The air conditioner hummed softly. The small lamp in the corner of the living room was still on, casting a warm glow across the wooden floor that, until now, had only been accompanied by the sound of your own footsteps.
The video call was still going. Nearly forty minutes now. Maybe longer. The two of you were often like this. There didn't always have to be something to talk about. Sometimes it was just about keeping each other company. And strangely enough—that was enough.
Your phone was now propped up against the small table beside the sofa. You had shifted from where you were sitting earlier. A thin blanket covered your legs. The hair that had still been neat before was now starting to fall out of place. The exhaustion from a full day at the bakery was finally beginning to settle into your shoulders.
On the screen—Yoongi looked increasingly tired. Not ordinary tired. Not just post-concert tired. His body had been pushed too hard these past few weeks. A twelve-kilometer run. Practice. Traveling. Concerts. Sleep schedules that were sometimes a mess. And Min Yoongi—even though he often looked calm—could sometimes be too hard on himself.
Earlier, when you saw him icing his leg, there had been a small part of you that still hadn't fully relaxed. Not because you were panicking. No. More because you knew him. Too well.
He was the type of person who would say he was fine even when his body clearly needed rest. And the most frustrating thing was—he was good at hiding his exhaustion from other people. Fortunately—you weren't other people.
You looked at the screen again. Yoongi was half lying down now. The hotel pillow had shifted slightly from him moving around several times. The gray hoodie he'd put on after showering was now a little wrinkled around the sleeves. His black hair had fallen messily across part of his forehead. And something had changed. Very slightly. But enough to make the corner of your lips lift.
He was quieter. Spending longer looking at the screen. Staying longer even though the conversation had technically run out several minutes ago.
"You're sleepy."
This time it wasn't a question. More of a conclusion.
Yoongi, who could usually pretend to look awake even when exhausted— But tonight, he was starting to fail at hiding it.
He only shook his head slightly. But his eyes looked too heavy. And you knew.
"You should go back to sleep."
There was no answer for several seconds. Only the soft sound of fabric shifting. He adjusted his position. More comfortable. More relaxed. Like someone who was too tired to keep up appearances anymore. And somehow—that made your chest feel warm.
Because Yoongi was known as someone who loved his sleep. People were afraid of disturbing it. But for you, he was willing to wake up at the crack of dawn. Because of the time difference, when it was already night in Seoul, it was still morning in Stanford. But Yoongi was willing to wake up early. Because not everyone got to see this side of him.
Out there—the world knew Min Yoongi as someone calm. Cold, sometimes. Composed. Someone who didn't reveal much of what he was thinking. Someone who didn't reveal much of what he was feeling. Sometimes—even someone who was far too good at looking okay.
But not the Yoongi you knew. The version you knew was different. The version who stayed longer in the kitchen when he had too much on his mind. The version who became clingier when he was tired. The version whose childish side showed more whenever he wasn't feeling well. And the farther apart distance pulled the two of you— the easier it was to see.
"Does your leg still hurt?"
He stayed quiet for a moment. Then gave a small nod. No argument. Maybe he was too tired to argue. And somehow, that made you feel a little relieved. Because at least tonight— he wasn't pretending to be strong.
Your gaze fell back to the screen. To a face you knew too well. To the person who had sat on the storage room floor of your bakery months ago after helping carry ingredients. To the person who had quietly started running in the mornings.
Started taking exercise more seriously. Started cutting back on little habits he used to have. Not because he wasn't enough. Not because he needed to change. But because in his mind— there was still a small bakery in Seoul. There were still stacks of flour. Still boxes of ingredients. Still you. And somehow— every time you remembered that— your heart felt full.
"You know."
Yoongi's voice was soft. A little heavier now.
"Hm?"
"I came back from the concert earlier."
You stayed quiet. Waiting. Because it felt like he wasn't finished.
"The hotel room was empty."
Your expression slowly softened.
"It was weird."
His voice was quiet. Calm. But enough to make something inside your chest slowly warm. "I usually come back..."
He paused for a moment. Like he was choosing his words. "You're there."
Silence.
Your apartment in Seoul feels even quieter now. The hum of the air conditioner. The small lamp. The phone screen. And someone thousands of kilometers away managing to completely undo you with just a few words.
Because it wasn't just you. It wasn't only you coming home and feeling like the apartment was too empty. It wasn't only you deliberately keeping yourself busier at the bakery. It wasn't only you secretly counting the days until he came home.
Apparently— he was doing the same thing. And suddenly— all the longing that had felt so heavy these past few weeks became a little lighter.
"You're tired, aren't you."
You spoke softly. Yoongi's gaze remained on the screen. Calm. Gentle. Home.
"Hm."
"You miss me, don't you."
This time—for someone who usually liked looking calm— he didn't deny it. Didn't change the subject. Didn't pretend to be unaffected. He simply stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then— the corner of his lips lifted slightly. Small. Very small. But enough. "I'm human too."
And somehow—you immediately laughed. Softly. Warmly. Because of course. Of course Min Yoongi was still Min Yoongi. Still trying to act cool. Even when he missed you. Even when he was tired. Even when his leg was still a little sore.
But you knew. After all the concerts. All the tours. All the thousands of kilometers. And all of his calm image— there was still one side of Min Yoongi that only appeared when he was with you. The side that was more spoiled. More honest. Smaller. And tonight— that distance of thousands of kilometers— felt a little closer.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The Seoul sky had turned dark an hour ago. The lights of the shops lining the street began turning on one by one, reflecting warm colors onto the sidewalk still damp from the light rain earlier that afternoon. The bakery was nearly done for the day as well. Only a few loaves remained on the front shelves for you to count before closing, the coffee machine had already been cleaned, and the two employees who usually helped with the evening shift had gone home about thirty minutes earlier.
The day actually felt a little different. Not because the bakery was busier. Not because there was more work. But because ever since you woke up that morning, you had realized there was one thing that kept appearing in your mind.
Yoongi was coming home today. After almost a full month.
Tampa. El Paso. Mexico City. Stanford. Las Vegas. Concerts. Schedules. Practice. Traveling. Interviews. Everything that had forced the two of you back into a long-distance relationship, even if only temporarily.
You knew his flight schedule. Knew what time he left. Knew roughly when he would land in Korea. Knew everything. Not because he constantly told you. But because you always paid attention.
And even though you had told yourself countless times not to think about it too much, throughout the day you still found yourself unconsciously checking your phone. Looking at the time. Doing the math in your head.
He should've landed by now. He should be leaving the airport now. He should be in the car now. And then you'd shake your head at yourself. Because honestly, you weren't really expecting to see him today.
Yoongi hadn't been home for almost a month. If you were him, there would only be one thing you'd want. Your own bed. Your own couch. Your own home. Sleep. So you assumed tonight would go as usual. Close the bakery. Go home. Maybe have a short video call if he wasn't asleep yet. That's it. No other expectations.
Because of that, when the clock was approaching nine at night and you were still standing in the back area of the bakery organizing ingredients for tomorrow morning, your thoughts weren't anywhere near that possibility.
The bakery was already closed. Most of the front lights had been turned off. The CLOSED sign had been hanging on the glass front door for nearly half an hour. You had even lowered the rolling shutters partway.
Just a little more. Then you could go home.
You were standing with your back to the rear entrance while checking inventory on your tablet. Flour would need to be ordered again next week. The butter was still fine. There were only two large boxes of chocolate left.
Your focus was completely on work. So focused that you didn't hear the door open. Didn't hear footsteps. Didn't hear anything. And a few seconds later— two arms suddenly wrapped around your waist from behind.
"KYAH—!"
Your body reacted instantly. Your elbow nearly flew upward. Your heart practically jumped into your throat. If that person had been a fraction of a second slower, they probably would've gotten hit.
Thankfully, before that happened, a laugh that was far too familiar sounded right beside your ear. And the world stopped for a few seconds.
Because of that voice.
Because of that cologne.
Because of that hug.
Because you knew it better than anyone.
"Oh my God!"
You spun around immediately. Eyes wide. And there he was.
Min Yoongi. With a smile that still looked slightly tired from the long flight. With black hair a little longer than when he left. And— good Lord. Glasses.
You immediately stopped talking. Because it wasn't fair. Not fair at all.
For the past few weeks, your TikTok FYP has been full of videos of Min Yoongi wearing glasses. At the airport. During soundcheck. Backstage. Everywhere. And every single time, the comments were always the same.
Dangerous.
Insane.
Too handsome.
Not human.
You usually just laughed when you saw them. But seeing it in person was much worse. Because now he was standing less than a meter away from you. Wearing a black hoodie. Loose pants. Thin dark-framed glasses. A face that looked slightly slimmer than it had a month ago. And somehow, it made your chest immediately feel warm.
"Oh my God, you scared me!"
Yoongi only laughed harder. The small laugh that rarely came out around anyone except the people closest to him.
"Your reflexes are good."
"I almost hit you."
"That's why I let go before you did."
"You—"
Your words stopped on their own. Because now you were really looking at him. And it was becoming clearer. A little. Only a little. But there was definitely a change.
His cheeks looked slimmer. His jawline was more visible. His body seemed leaner too. Not dramatically. Other people probably wouldn't notice. But you noticed. Because you knew him. Because you'd seen that face almost every day for months. And as usual, Yoongi immediately caught your stare.
"What."
You pouted.
"You lost weight."
He sighed. Too quickly. Too automatically. Which meant he'd already heard that comment many times.
"I didn't lose weight."
"You did."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I just run."
"Exactly."
"That's healthy."
"That's losing weight."
"That's different."
You rolled your eyes.And he laughed again. Apparently, nearly a month apart hadn't changed anything. Still the same. Still the same Yoongi. Still stubborn. Still arguing about things that were obviously true.
But before you could continue, Yoongi's gaze suddenly drifted around the room. Toward the front door. Toward the windows. Toward the empty bakery. Then one eyebrow slowly lifted. And you immediately knew. Oh no. Here we go.
"You're here alone?"
His voice was flat. Too flat. A warning sign.
You immediately pretended to focus on your tablet. "Hm."
"Where are the employees?"
"They left."
"You're alone."
"Hm."
His stare sharpened. "Where's the door lock?"
You went quiet.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Then slowly turn your head. "...I forgot."
Silence. Complete silence. And Yoongi's expression immediately changed.
Not angry. More like someone who had repeated the same conversation fifty times and still had to repeat it again.
"You forgot."
"Yeah."
"You're here alone."
"Yeah."
"The door wasn't locked."
"Yeah."
"Are you serious?"
You immediately let out a long sigh.
"You show up and instead of saying you missed me—"
"I missed you."
"Instead of giving me a long hug."
"I already hugged you."
"Instead of being romantic."
"I am romantic."
"You're scolding me."
Because you were tired. Because you missed him. And because the two of you were already too comfortable with each other.
The grumbling came out before you could stop it. And apparently that was a mistake. Because Yoongi looked absolutely delighted. Very delighted. Until the corners of his lips slowly lifted.
"You're cute."
"I'm annoyed."
"You're cute when you're annoyed."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
You became even more irritated. Which only made his smile wider. Because that was how it always was.
There was a side of Min Yoongi that only appeared around you. A side not many people got to see. The side that secretly enjoyed your sulking. The side that secretly liked seeing you annoyed over small things. The side that secretly felt at home whenever he saw that familiar expression.
Slowly, he stepped closer again. Closer. Until his chin finally rested on top of your head. Warm arms wrapped around you again. This time it was calmer. Longer. Tighter. And for the first time since walking into the bakery, he let out a long breath. Like someone who had finally arrived where he wanted to be.
"You know..."
His voice was low. Slightly rough from the long trip.
"Hm?"
"I got off the plane earlier."
You stayed quiet and listened.
"I thought I was going straight home."
"And then?"
He fell silent for a moment. His arms didn't loosen. Still tight. Still comfortable.
"Turns out I wanted to come here more."
And suddenly, all the exhaustion from the day disappeared. Because after one month. After Las Vegas. After the concerts. After thousands of kilometers. After all the video calls and all the secret calculations of time you both did— the first thing Min Yoongi looked for when he returned to Seoul wasn't his apartment.
Wasn't his bed. Wasn't his home. It was you. And as always, he managed to make something simple feel far bigger than it should have.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Yoongi did end up helping. Not because there was too much work. Not because you genuinely needed the help. But because once he decided he wanted to do something, there was almost nothing that could change his mind.
You were stacking a few baking trays onto a storage rack when you noticed he had already picked up the pile of empty boxes near the back door.
"Yoongi, just sit down."
He didn't even look back.
"You just got off a plane."
Still no response.
"Yoongi."
Only then did he look your way. One eyebrow lifted slightly behind his glasses. "You think I'm weak?"
You immediately laughed. Not because you were mocking him. It was that expression. That uniquely offended Min Yoongi expression that always appeared whenever someone questioned his ability to do something.
"You just finished a month-long tour."
"I just took a flight."
"You had concerts."
"Hm."
"You traveled all over."
"Hm."
"You barely slept."
"Hm."
"And you still want to clean up the bakery."
Yoongi lifted one shoulder. As if there was nothing strange about it. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it was, in his head.
Because Yoongi had always shown his affection in strange ways. Not through grand words. Not through gestures deliberately meant to be romantic. But through things that sometimes seemed so ordinary that other people might not even notice them.
You noticed. Always. Like when he finished filming close to midnight and still came to pick you up simply because he didn't want you going home alone. Or when he suddenly showed up carrying your favorite milk tea even though the shop was obviously nowhere near his schedule that day. Or when he quietly fixed the small shelf in your apartment after hearing you complain that the cabinet door had become loose.
There was never an announcement. Never a romantic speech. Somehow everything was already done. Somehow he'd already taken care of it. And now, after nearly a month away from Korea, the first thing he was doing was standing in your bakery helping you close the shop.
You watched him for a while. The way he folded cardboard boxes. The way he straightened chairs. The way he checked the lights one by one. And slowly, you began to realize something. He kept staying close to you.
Not intentionally. Or maybe intentionally. It was hard to tell.
Whenever you moved to the back area, a few minutes later he would be there too. Whenever you went into the storage room, he would appear carrying an inventory list you hadn't even asked for. Whenever you returned to the front area, he followed along carrying a trash bag. As if there were an invisible thread constantly pulling him in the same direction as you.
At first, you didn't think much about it. Until eventually, you were standing in front of the ingredient refrigerator and nearly walked straight into someone.
You stopped immediately. Yoongi stopped too. The distance between you was too close.
The two of you stayed silent for a few seconds. Then Yoongi took half a step back. But only half a step. Nothing more.
You immediately narrowed your eyes. "You're following me, aren't you?"
"I'm working."
"You've been everywhere I am."
"I'm helping."
"You're following me."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
You immediately laughed. And what made you even more certain was the way Yoongi avoided your gaze afterward. Because normally, when he believed he was right, he would keep arguing.
If he started changing the subject? That meant you were right. And the more you thought about it, the clearer it became.
Maybe it was because it had been almost a month. Maybe because it had been too long. Maybe because the two of you had only seen each other through screens this whole time.
But that night, Yoongi looked like someone who wasn't completely satisfied yet with confirming that you were really there.
Real. Not a video call. Not a photo. Not a phone screen. You.
A little while later, the work was finally finished. The lights in the back area had been turned off. The shelves were organized. The coffee machine had been cleaned. The bakery had finally become quiet again. For the first time since he'd arrived, there was nothing left to do. And only then did you notice it.
The exhaustion. Not obvious. But there.
In the way his shoulders sat slightly lower. In the way his breaths came out longer. In the way his eyes looked heavier now. The adrenaline from finally arriving in Seoul was probably starting to fade. His body was beginning to remember that he'd just endured a long flight. You immediately walked closer.
"Tired?"
"Normal."
"You're tired."
"Normal."
"You're sleepy."
This time he didn't immediately argue. And that alone was an answer.
You smiled slightly. Then, without thinking, brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. A simple gesture. A very simple gesture. But Yoongi immediately went quiet.
His eyes followed your face. Soft. Calm. Making your heart feel unsettled in the best possible way.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Yoongi stayed silent for a few seconds. Then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. Very slightly. But enough to make your heart race.
"I'm just happy."
You blinked. Because those words came out so naturally. Without a joke. Without teasing. Without trying to look cool. Just honest. And because of that, the effect was so much worse.
"I thought you'd go straight home."
"So did I."
"And then?"
His eyes were still on you. Still the same. Still far too warm.
"Halfway there, I started thinking about you."
Silence.
The bakery that had already closed felt even quieter. No employees. No customers. No sounds except the soft hum of the air conditioner. And somehow, out of all the romantic things someone could say after not seeing each other for a month, that simple sentence made your heart beat the hardest. Because it was so very Min Yoongi.
Not poetic. Not dramatic. Not excessive. Just honest. And maybe that was why it always managed to make you fall in love all over again.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The bakery was finally completely cleaned up. Only a few lights in the front area were still on. The street outside looked much quieter than it had an hour ago. The CLOSED sign was still hanging on the glass door. For the first time that night, there was nothing left to do. And it was precisely when everything became quiet that the feeling came more clearly.
Missing him.
Because for almost a month now, you really have been busy.
The bakery was busy. The days were busy. Video calls helped. Messages helped. But it still wasn't the same.
It wasn't the same as being able to touch his hand. It wasn't the same as seeing his expression in person. It wasn't the same as having someone suddenly appear behind you and nearly make you hit him on reflex. And now he was here. Really here.
Not on a screen. Not on a video call. Not thousands of kilometers away.
Yoongi was standing right in front of you. Still wearing the black hoodie that was slightly wrinkled from the long trip. The glasses that had appeared far too often on your TikTok FYP over the past few weeks were still perched on his nose. A few strands of his bangs had fallen forward, partially covering his eyes. And somehow, the longer you looked at him, the harder it became to stop.
Yoongi noticed first.
"Why do you keep staring at me?"
His voice was casual. But you could see the corner of his lips move slightly. As if he already knew the answer.
You took a step closer. Not far. Because he was already close. Your fingers lifted slowly. Brushing aside a few strands of hair that were blocking his eyes.
A small gesture. Simple. But Yoongi immediately went quiet. His eyes followed your face. And for a few seconds, neither of you said anything.
You simply looked at him. Really looked at him. Looked at the face you had only been able to touch through a phone screen for the past month. Looked at eyes you knew too well. Looked at the person you had secretly missed even while being busy out of your mind.
Yoongi finally frowned slightly.
"What?"
You smiled softly. Then answered honestly.
"I missed you."
His expression changed immediately. Very quickly. As quickly as someone who had just been caught doing something. Because the next second, he looked away. To the side. To the floor. Anywhere except for you. And that nearly made you laugh.
Because seriously. After all the months that had passed. After all the concerts. All the awards. All the millions of people shouting his name. Min Yoongi could still get embarrassed over one simple sentence.
"Why are you looking over there?"
"I'm not."
"You're embarrassed."
"I'm not."
"You're embarrassed."
"I'm not."
The more he denied it, the more obvious it became. Even his ears were starting to turn slightly red. And it made your heart melt. He was so adorable.
You immediately lifted both hands. Gently holding his cheeks. Forcing his face back toward you.
"Don't run away."
"I'm not running away."
"You are."
"I'm just looking over there."
"Yoongi."
"Hm."
"Look at me."
His gaze finally returned to your face. And the biggest mistake anyone could make was telling Min Yoongi to look at you for too long when he was embarrassed. Because right now he looked too cute. Too sweet. Too capable of making your heart race.
His eyes widened slightly. As if he didn't know what to do. As if he was confused about why you kept looking at him.
And before he could say anything— You leaned in slightly. Then kissed him quickly. Very quickly. Only for a moment. But enough. Enough to make Yoongi completely freeze. Completely.
He didn't even move for several seconds. Didn't speak. Didn't react. Just stood there. And his expression immediately made you laugh. Because his face was completely blank. As if his brain needed time to process what had just happened.
"What's wrong?" You tried to sound innocent.
Yoongi blinked once. Twice. Then looked away again. And this time it was even worse.
You could see the red color creeping up to his ears.
"Oh my God."
You immediately laughed harder.
"Don't laugh."
"You're cute."
"Don't laugh."
"You're embarrassed."
"I'm not."
"You're red."
"I'm tired."
"That's not being tired."
"It is."
"That's embarrassing."
Yoongi let out a long sigh. A very long sigh. Like someone regretting many life decisions. Including, perhaps, the decision to come to the bakery tonight.
But what made you find him even more adorable was one thing. He didn't pull away. Not even once. Even though he was embarrassed. Even though he couldn't maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. Even though he kept avoiding your gaze.
His arms remained wrapped around your waist. Still close. Still unwilling to leave. And somehow that felt so very much to him. Because Min Yoongi wasn't good at expressing many things. Wasn't good at making romantic speeches. Wasn't good at constantly coming up with sweet words. But his body was always honest.
The way he came to the bakery before going home. The way he helped clean up the shop even though he was clearly exhausted. The way he kept staying close to you from the moment he arrived. The way he was still holding you now even though his face was red as hell. And when you laughed softly again at his expression, Yoongi finally murmured quietly near your ear.
"I missed you too."
The sentence was short. Only four words. Almost impossible to hear. But enough to make your heart immediately stop functioning normally.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The trip out of the bakery took longer than it should have. Not because there were a lot of things to carry. Not because anything had been left behind. But because every few minutes, you still found yourself glancing over at Yoongi. And every time it happened, you immediately remembered the expression on his face a few minutes earlier.
The flushed face. The way he avoided your gaze. The ears that had turned red too. It made you want to laugh again.
Meanwhile, Yoongi, who usually had plenty to complain about when it came to small things, was much quieter now. He simply carried a few of your things to the car, made sure the bakery door was locked, then walked beside you toward the parking lot.
The Seoul night felt much colder than it had during the day. A light breeze drifted past as the two of you stepped outside the building. And without saying a word, Yoongi immediately pulled the zipper of your jacket a little higher.
A simple gesture. A reflex. As if he didn't even realize he was doing it.
You simply looked at him for a few seconds. Then smile to yourself. Because yes. It was always like this.
The car started moving away from the small street where the bakery was located. City lights flickered past beyond the window. The roads weren't particularly busy. Music played softly through the speakers. The atmosphere was comfortable. Too comfortable, actually.
You leaned your head back against the seat. Your body was finally starting to remember that today had actually been exhausting. And for the first time since Yoongi suddenly appeared at the bakery, you could truly enjoy the fact that he was home.
He was already in Korea.
Already near you.
No more calculating time differences.
No more waiting for video calls.
No more seeing his face through a screen.
It felt strange. But nice. Very nice.
The two of you stayed quiet for quite a while. Not the awkward kind of silence. Quite the opposite. The comfortable kind. The kind that could only happen when two people had become far too used to each other.
Until eventually, Yoongi's voice broke the silence.
"You're off tomorrow."
You turned your head.
"Hm?"
"Tomorrow's Tuesday."
"Oh."
Right. The bakery closed every Tuesday. The only day of the week that you usually truly used to rest. Or at least tried to rest.
You nodded slightly. Then looked back out the window. Until a few seconds later— Wait. You slowly turned back toward him. Yoongi was still focused on driving. Too focused. Suspiciously focused. Your eyes immediately narrowed.
"Why?"
"Just asking."
"You don't usually ask things like that."
He stayed quiet.
You became even more suspicious. "Min Yoongi."
"Hm."
"What's going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"What's going on with you?"
Still silent. And now your instincts were kicking in. Because the longer you'd known him, the more you'd realized that Yoongi actually wasn't very good at lying.
He was good at hiding his feelings from other people. But from you? Not really.
"What do you want to say?"
"Nothing."
"Yoongi."
He let out a small sigh. And that was already enough of an answer.
You immediately leaned back against your seat and crossed your arms. "Oh."
"What?"
"Oh, so that's how it is?"
"How is?"
"You want something."
"I don't want anything."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You do."
A few seconds passed. Then the corner of your lips slowly lifted. Because little by little, everything was starting to make sense. You immediately pointed at him.
"Oh."
"What now?"
"So this was your plan?"
Yoongi finally glanced at you for a second. His expression was flat. Too flat. Which only made you more certain.
"You picked me up on purpose."
"I did pick you up."
"So I'd go home with you."
This time he didn't answer. At all. And that was far more suspicious than any denial could have been. You immediately burst out laughing.
"HEY."
He stayed quiet. Still driving. Still pretending to be calm. Still trying to look innocent. Even though he'd obviously been caught.
"This was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it."
"I was just asking."
"You're lying."
"I was just asking."
"You're lying."
A small smile finally appeared on his face.
Faint. Almost invisible. But it was there. And it only made him seem more adorable. Because apparently Min Yoongi, who looked impossibly cool in front of millions of people, secretly made little plans like this. Just to ask his girlfriend to stay over. After nearly a month apart.
You were still quietly laughing while looking out the window. Meanwhile, Yoongi fell silent again. But this time it felt different. Because a few moments later, he finally spoke again. Softer. More honest.
"It's been a long time since we saw each other."
You immediately turned toward him. And somehow, with just that one sentence, all of your teasing stopped.
The red light at the intersection brought the car to a stop for a moment. Red and yellow lights filtered into the cabin. Illuminating part of Yoongi's face. He was still looking ahead. Still sounded casual. But there was something in his voice that made your chest feel strange.
"I missed you."
Silence.
Your heart immediately started beating a little faster. The annoying thing was that after all the time you'd spent together, after all the video calls, after all the hugs, after all the kisses, a simple sentence like that could still make you nervous. Badly.
"I missed you."
He repeated it again. Softly. As if he were explaining something very simple.
"I want to spend more time with you."
And yes. That was it.
Your heart had officially stopped cooperating. Because Min Yoongi was always like that. He rarely said romantic things. Rarely expressed things directly. So when he finally did, the effect was always multiplied several times over.
You slowly turned toward him. Then immediately regretted it. Because the look on his face gave you absolutely no chance of winning.
There was no teasing smile. No confident expression. Quite the opposite. A little pitiful. A little hopeful. Like someone who already knew the answer he wanted. But was still waiting for it. And that was far more dangerous.
"Why are you making that face?"
"I'm not making any faces."
"That's not a normal face."
"It is."
"That's a pity face."
"I'm tired."
"That's a pity face."
"I'm tired."
You immediately covered your face for a moment. Because he was adorable. Because he was ridiculous. Because it wasn't fair. Because this person had just come home from a month-long tour and now looked like a kitten asking not to be left alone. And the most annoying thing— you couldn't say no. Not at all.
Eventually, you let out a long sigh. Pretending to be annoyed. Even though you'd actually lost several minutes ago.
"Fine."
Yoongi immediately turned toward you. So quickly that you almost laughed again. "Fine what?"
"We'll go to your place."
A few seconds of silence followed. Then the corner of his lips slowly lifted. Small. Very small. But enough to make your heart race all over again. Because you knew that smile.
Happy. Truly happy.
And somehow, seeing it made your whole chest feel warm too. The car started moving again. Heading toward Yoongi's house. While outside, the lights of Seoul continued passing by beyond the window. And for the first time that night, the longing that had been building up over the past month slowly began to feel lighter. Because this time, there was no flight left to wait for.
No time difference.
No phone screen.
There was only you.
And Yoongi.
And a long night still waiting ahead of the two of you.
Author Notes: Surprise! Since they've just returned to Korea, I thought it was the perfect time to release this story. I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know your thoughts now that they already return.
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⭒ Masterpost ⭒ 08/17/2025
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ᝰ Jannik Sinner
JANNIK SINNER FIC MASTERLIST | @gamesetattach
Reps and Races | @/gamesetattach
Jannik Sinner x F1 Academy Driver!Reader Gym crushes are the best crushes, especially when it's Jannik Sinner. Reader is his, too... on the low—he keeps up with her more than she might see...
Biggest Fan | @/gamesetattach
All because our stoic Jannik gets jealous: a sweet, supportive drop in on one of Jannik's practice sessions somehow ends up resulting in an outcome that's anything but. Anything but sweet, that is. It's still supportive somehow... eventually.
Mixed Doubles, Mixed Signals. | @sinnerinwonderland
She brings the fire, he brings the calm. After the match, the line between doubles and something more disappears.
Playlist Confessions. | @/sinnerinwonderland
She made the playlist as a joke. He changed the title as a confession.
Lucky Ones | @ithinkimokeei
Y/N and Jannik come together at the 2024 Australian Open for the first time after what happened at the 2023 Wimbledon.
sweet nothings | @/ithinkimokeei
You try to help out your boyfriend after the heartbreaking Roland-Garros final.
TENNIS LESSONS | @saragarnier
Jannik teaches y/n how to play tennis
Final feelings | @game-set-canet
have we met before? | @bharlesbeclerc
a familiar face reappears throughout the year, and he somehow makes you feel the same every single time
me & you together song | @trickst3rs
jannik had been hopelessly in love with you for years but just couldn't find the courage to share his feelings
𝑴𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 | @charlieluver
Just Be You | @lifeofpriya
Reader and Jannik having opposite personalities and reader being insecure that he doesn’t like them
Optimal Proximity | @barcaism
in which jannik is oblivious to the fact that you’re pinning for him
❛ but you know i’m never home ❜ | @sinnersphile
you meet and then you're dating, but how can this work out when your boyfriend is a full time tennis player and you're a full time student?
ᝰ Carlos Alcaraz
Doubles, fries and interviews | @endzithefangirl
Carlos does somethng unthinkable and you just have to expose him on TikTok
wimbledon winner | @pastryfication
ferrari fan | @/pastryfication
Maps | @afterglowsainz
after you break up with carlos, you never thought you would have to play against him. too bad the wimbledon mixed doubles finals have different plans for you
Clay & Kisses | @/barcaism
in which carlos wins at roland garros and after a grueling match he runs straight to you—and even you get in on the clay action
The Chapstick Clause. | @/sinnerinwonderland
It started with strawberry lip balm. It ended with lips on lips.
Shy | @/charlieluver
Biggest Fan
Jannik Sinner x Reader All because our stoic Jannik gets jealous: a sweet, supportive drop in on one of Jannik's practice sessions somehow ends up resulting in an outcome that's anything but. Anything but sweet, that is. It's still supportive somehow... eventually. Warnings include... possessive degrading? maybe smut, , hickeys and extensive description of... idk, I was in a mood, fingering, female-bodied reader
}}}
The Monte Carlo Country Club never failed to charm with its understated elegance. White parasols dotted the terrace, bougainvillea spilled lazily over stone walls, and the air carried that salty tang from the coast mixed with the warm, earthy scent of clay. Jannik was already out on court by the time you arrived, his routine set in motion. The clean thwack of his forehand echoed crisply as he moved through familiar drills, all muscle memory and quiet control.
You found your usual spot up on the balcony overlooking the court, arms draped over the rail. From your view, he looked smaller, framed by the lines he spent nearly everyday between. You watched the way he shifted weight, adjusted grip, reset. He’d do it over and over, and you loved when you had free days like this to come watch.
Even his breaks had a rhythm—a nod to his coaches, his hitting parter, then a slow walk to his towel and his water. On occasion, he’d glance up. Up towards the small sea of spectators that would inevitably hover around his practices.
That part was just for you, though.
Had he not known you were coming, he probably wouldn’t have spared a single look towards the other side of the fence or towards the ledge of onlookers on the balcony. But you’d texted that you were on your way right before he’d begun—so he knew to search for you.
“It is a beautiful day for tennis, yes, but you have not looked up once,” someone said offhandedly, breaking your focus, the voice edged with amusement.
The figure that had vaguely been watching the court behind you since you sat now shifted to stand beside you. You turned, following the voice, to find a crisp shirt, polo sneakers, and a head of neat, brown waves. Coffee in one hand, the stranger leaned his weight onto the frame of the empty chair next to yours.
He nodded toward Jannik down at the courts, voice relaxed and smile friendly. “Big fan?”
“Yeah,” you nodded politely as you looked up to him, casting a hand over your eyes to shield the sun. “The biggest possible, really.”
“You have good taste,” he said, then stuck out a hand. “Jules. I usually come for the golf, but when I heard Sinner was hitting today—well, I had to come.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and accepted his handing, shaking it briefly and offering your own name. “I honestly don’t come to the club often, but when I do it’s to watch… Nothing more satisfying than Jannik’s strokes against the ball.”
“Yes, yes, the best sound. I agree.” He smiled, nodding earnestly.
With that, the introduction and brief conversation came to a natural end. You both turned to look back down onto the courts, Jules’ one hand still resting on the chair beside you. Tracing the ball moving back and forth across the court, your heads turned in unison as you watched Jannik rally. He moved strong and steady, sharp lines of motion cutting across the court as he slid from one side of the baseline to the other.
When Jannik delivered the final blow of the rally—the balls ricocheting clean off his strings—a quiet murmur of oohs and ahhs passed through the balcony. You caught eyes with Jules as you gently clapped with the rest of the crowd, sharing another, cordial smile.
“Superb shot.” He said to you, raising his brows, and you hummed in agreement.
Now noticing he was still standing close by, you gestured to the seat by you. “Feel free to sit, also. No one’s sitting here.”
“Oh,” Jules smiled easily, pulling the chair out to sit. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” You shrugged. “The more comfortable you are, the longer you can watch—pro tip.”
“This is true. Very good point.” He laughed at that, immediately lifting a leg to rest his calf on his thigh as if taking your advice to heart. “Do you attend many tennis matches, then?”
“Oh yeah.” You gestured to the court and then back to yourself. “Actually, Jannik and I—we’re together. So I travel with him and watch when I can.”
“Ah, really?” Jules tilted his head with genuine intrigue and surprise. “I see—So you are his biggest fan.”
“I like to think so, yes.” You chuckled and he joined in with you.
The rest of the practice consisted of the same casual and comfortable exchange with Jules. Easy to talk to and full of good-natured questions—he asked about your favorite spots in Monaco, if you ever played tennis yourself, what it was like dating someone with that kind of discipline. You enjoyed the idle company, always answering him while continuing the small talk yourself, and Jules was personable and open. One more than one occasion, you made each other laugh with quiet banter and commentary about the tennis play below you.
Of course, Jannik continued through his routine with characteristic skill. Hitting with controlled intensity. His footwork was clean, movements economical—entirely lasered in the game, the way he always was when he stepped on court.
But, in his brief moments in between, he’d still look to you.
When he next paused to towel off, he glanced toward the balcony, out of habit, searching for you. His gaze landed on you quickly, as it did each time—having catalogued exactly where you’d sat as soon as you entered—only this time, you weren’t looking back.
You were angled just slightly away from court, toward someone else. You were still facing forward, but right now you seemed to be looking at the person sitting beside you. Jannik didn’t recognize the man, though you must have been acquainted—you were listening and nodding at whatever he was saying.
Jannik blinked and watched for a moment longer, mostly in hopes of catching your eyes, before shrugging it off. There were a few club regulars that had come to know you by name, and you’d often exchange neighborly conversation when running into each other. And even if it were a stranger, it wasn’t uncommon for bystanders and well-meaning fans to approach you. It was one of the things he appreciated most about you—you took all that came with his career in stride and with grace, never buckling at the pressure of his fame. Even the way you’d taken time out of your own busy schedule to watch his practice from a distance was just one of the many examples of your unconditional support.
So Jannik transitioned into the next phase of his practice without another thought of it.
The next stretch of drills was longer, his coach feeding balls rapid-fire as Jannik moved side to side, powering forehands into the corners. Hair tucked under a faded white cap, shirt clinging to his back with sweat more and more, limbs long and focused as he moved across the baseline. His coach and team were off to the side, giving quiet notes between drills, but otherwise letting him fall into his own rhythm.
He stayed that way, immersed in the regimen all the way up until the next break.
Then Jannik nodded to Simone’s quick corrections, walking over to the bench again. Reaching for his towel and sitting, he pulled in a breath. His eyes drifted up to the balcony—it seemed that man was still there.
You were both laughing at something this time. Not just a passing, polite smile. Heads tilted in, shoulders nearly touching, you were looking at something on his phone. Whatever was on the screen had you grinning, and when you leaned away it was with a delighted clap.
Jannik exhaled through his nose, but he continued to look up in your direction throughout his brief break. He tuned out the usual banter of his team, not adding into their light conversation. Even when directly asked something, he just barely glanced at them while answering before his eyes strayed back up to you.
Never once did your eyes meet his, though.
He returned to the line with a huff—dragging a hand over his face, he tried to shake himself out of it. But his concentration was undeniably frayed.
He managed to keep moving for the remaining half hour—serve practice, volley drills, point simulations. But, every so often, he’d glance up. His eyes would dart to you, quick glances at any possible opportunity. And, everytime, you seemed to miss it.
You were watching Jannik throughout, but your trained gaze was split with humoring the charming banter of your new acquaintance—and usually Jannik was your sole focus during these practices.
In the beginning of seeing each other, you’d bring a book or your laptop with you, but quickly realized you wanted nothing more than to watch him. And only him.
There was something mesmerizing about the silent way he filled the space when he stepped on court, entirely in his element. You knew you loved watching him like this before you even knew you loved him. At first you’d watch the neat angles of his game, the discipline in his repetition, but now you’d come to watch for smaller moments like when his lips twitched with amusement after a particularly difficult shot.
You couldn’t come often, which made days like this rare and sweet. And you knew Jannik just liked knowing you were there—when you could be tucked into his peripheral, it was always a welcome treat. You liked giving him that—your steady support, your ready eyes. He’d always share those stolen glances with you. A flicker of his gaze, the ghost of a grin after. You felt lucky, every time—somehow today, there’d been less of those moments.
And that stayed true all the way through the rest of practice.
Eventually—after a decidedly rough second half of practice where Jannik missed twice as many balls than usual—the team began wrapping up. The coaches collected the balls and Jannik reached for the rake.
He took his time smoothing out the clay, dragging the mesh across the court then back again with careful, wide lines. A meditative act, Jannik always felt grounded in repeating the motion he’d done almost daily since he was a kid. Familiar and calming, he took the quiet moment to clear his mind.
But halfway into his sweep, that peace was interrupted—disrupted by one of his favorite sounds. Your laugh. Carrying you down from the balcony.
Jannik froze mid-rake, and his head shot up. At first by instinct and then with frustration, because it wasn’t the polite kind you might have offered a true stranger. It was the real thing. Loose and warm and melodic.
He looked up in time to see you throw your head back, another wave of laughter, that ripple of sound that he could pick out in any crowd with no trouble at all. The man beside you was doubled over in a similar state and when he finally straightened as you wiped a tear from your eye, he set a hand on your shoulder.
Jannik had to snap his face down, glaring down at the clay as he fell instep again—yanking the rake after him harder than necessary. He clenched his jaw, a tightness taking over his chest, heavy and immovable even as he left the court.
Practice had ended, but that knot in his stomach stayed taut.
---
Jannik, after cooling down in the gym and washing up in the locker room, chatted with his coaches as they headed into the parking lot. You were already by the exit, leaning on the gate, still accompanied by Jules and engaged in his easy going conversation.
"Anyway," you said, cutting yourself off when you spied Jannik out of the corner of your eye. "I have to go, but it was nice meeting you."
"Of course," Jules nodded with a smile, already stepping towards his car. "It was nice to meet you as well—maybe I will see you around."
"Maybe,” you said with a smile, offering a final wave as you moved to join Jannik. “Take care."
Jannik had watched the goodbye unfold from a few yards away, looking over Simone and Darren. Jannik’s eyes were still trained on Jules when you approached the circle of his team and joined right beside him.
"Hey," you greeted Jannik, nodding to the team with a bright smile. They all exchanged brief, friendly with you before dismissing themselves for the evening, chiming their goodbyes as everyone separated to their respective cars.
"See you next tomorrow," Darren patted Jannik before giving you a warm smile. “And good to see you.”
“You too.” You said as Jannik nodded in reply before he silently unlocked the car. From the other side of the lot, Simone waved goodbye and you called out to him. “Ciao."
Jannik slid into the driver's seat without a word, and you followed suit in the passenger’s seat—though your quiet was unsuspecting and not nearly as loaded.
The engine was already purring to life when you buckled in and Jannik backed out of the spot soon after without so much as glancing in your direction. The silence between you felt heavy and unprompted in the gentle buzz of early evening.
"You looked great out there today,” you said sincerely before joking slightly, reaching over to pat his thigh once. “Missed some easy ones in the second half, but, still, you looked great.”
He barely nodded, not even acknowledging your affectionate teasing, his tone clipped and neutral. "Thanks."
"How did you feel?" You prompted.
"Fine."
"... Just fine?” You tried. “You were working those corners so hard, I’m surprised the lines didn’t wear down.”
Silence.
You tilted your head, turning to scan him a bit. "Was that the new technique you were working on with Simone?"
"Yeah."
“Wow,” you laughed softly under your breath. “Getting a lot out of you today."
Again, he didn't respond. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, jaw ticking a bit.
Sometimes he was quiet after practice—tired and depleted, there were times when his body and mind was so spent that he couldn’t quite carry conversation. Sometimes it was the opposite, and his head and heart would still be rushing with adrenaline even when stepping off court. And even then, he just needed space to decompress, to let the intensity of training settle. Often, he’d go quiet in moments, his focus wandering to his game play. Always analyzing each serve, each movement, mentally replaying every missed shot.
You’d learned to give him that room when he needed it, trusting he’d come around in his own time. In all other instances, Jannik was a devoted and attentive partner—so when he needed you to, you’d fill the silence.
And so you did just that, chatting lightly to no one in particular as he drove you both home.
"I actually met this really nice guy while I was watching. Jules. He comes to the club to play golf. He was funny. Super easy to talk to. He was born in Paris, but he’s lived here since he was ten and—get this—his dad worked for the royal family here. He had some crazy stories about that."
You went on. "He said he attended the Monte Carlo Masters in the same box as the royal family when he was a kid. He was in tears the whole time because he hated tennis for whatever reason, but his dad made him sit through it quietly, which only made him hate it more, of course.”
You looked over to Jannik for a second, continuing when you saw he was still unresponsive. “He said he hadn't really taken to tennis until very recently—said you were a big reason for that, actually. But I’ll be honest, I don’t think he’s that into it yet because we talked throughout practice and—"
"I saw."
The words landed abruptly, cutting straight through your sentence. You blinked, caught off guard not just by the interruption—though Jannik never interrupted you—but by the tone. Sharp, hard-edged, not like him at all.
You blinked, turning back to look at him.
His jaw was set. Eyes forward. One hand flexed a little too tightly on the wheel.
It clicked.
“Wait…” Your mouth parted slightly. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at the corner of your lips. "Jan... Are you jealous?"
He didn’t answer. But he didn’t deny it either, and that was confirmation enough.
“Oh my god.” You let out a small laugh, genuinely amused. "You are. Oh, Jannik."
His shoulders stiffened even more, pressing his lips tighter together. "... I don’t see what’s funny."
The way he said it, low and flat, only made you laugh a little more. You couldn’t help it—it felt absurd. Sweet almost, in that the reaction was so unlike his usual self-control.
It felt harmless to you, but he didn’t say anything more for the rest of the ride…
---
You kicked off your shoes and padded into the hallway, dropping your phone on the coach. Jannik followed a few paces behind, keys left in the dish by the door, tennis bag and jacket shrugged off in silence.
He still hadn’t said a word.
You glanced back at him as you turned on the light. Unimpressed by how long he’d kept up the attitude, you decided to lightly bite back with a bit of your own—the novelty of his jealousy having worn off.
"You gonna keep pouting forever or are we still making dinner?"
He gave you a look—unreadable—before brushing past you into the kitchen. "I got it."
"Okay... Okay yeah, you better." You followed, leaning against the island as he opened a cabinet to pull a pot out. "Because I’m not sure this silent treatment is conducive to a productive cooking environment… I mean, would you carry boiling water behind me without a word? Because that feels unsafe."
He went to the sink and filled the pot without answering, not taking your bait.
You let out an exaggerated sigh. You cast your eyes to the side and, mostly under your breath, you said, "I bet Jules would have said a dozen things by now."
Still nothing. But you saw it—the small twitch in his jaw, the way his shoulders immediately squared too tight. Too soon, you sucked in a regretful breath. Way too soon.
“Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for…” You wrapped around the island to join him by the sink. “I’m sorry. It was a poor attempt at a joke… One of many, actually...”
He shut off the water, swatting the faucet down, turning his face away from you. You didn’t have to see him to know that his brows were furrowed and his mouth was set straight.
“Jan. Come on.” You closed the space between you and slipped your arms around his waist from behind, cheek resting against his back. "You don’t have to be weird about it... Or worried…
He was still stiff in your arms.
“I’m yours, you know that." You said.
And that cracked him.
He turned in your arms slowly, hands finding your hips, and you pulled back a little to look at him. "Say it again."
You cocked your head. "That I’m yours?"
His grip tightened slightly, his eyes cast down and focused on you. He didn’t say anything, but you knew.
"I’m yours." You smiled up at him now. “I’m yours, Jannik.”
He inhaled, a deep breath through his nose. His eyes stared back into yours for a single, loaded beat.
And then he surged down, meeting your lips and pulling you into him—his lips caught yours mid-breath, stealing it from you with the sheer force of it. He kissed you hard, heavy and anything but gentle. One of his hands came up fast to cradle the side of your face, his thumb resting on the swell of your cheek. The other found the back of your neck, squeezing the sides before his fingers threading through the bottom of your hair.
His mouth moved over yours with determined hunger and claim. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, tongue briefly tracing your lip in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands shot to his chest, steadying yourself, then slid around his neck.
When he broke away for air, his breath was ragged against your cheek for just a moment before you pulled him back just as hard, your pulse spiking as the air between you narrowed down to nothing and a low sort of growl left him. Every press of his mouth said what he hadn’t.
He knew you were his, but still needed to feel it. To prove it.
"No one knows you like I do" he murmured, voice rough.
His hands were rougher now, more urgent, mouth demanding, breath shallow. He tugged off his own shirt before pulling yours over your head, lips only leaving you when they had to. As the fabric slipped away, he stepped away from the sink and backed you slowly into the island, his body pressing flush against yours. His mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, then lower, working along the line of your throat with such a deliberate slowness that it made your breath hitch.
You tilted your head instinctively, granting him more access, and he took it—his lips dragging hot and open across your neck, tongue teasing, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring you in place against the marble’s edge as his mouth moved all around you—along the slope of your shoulder, down to the hollow just above your collarbone where he left a slow, bruising kiss that made your eyes flutter shut. Then lower, dragging his lips along the curve of your chest.
And then retraced his path back up with the same intensity, his breath hot and uneven as it ghosted over the damp, swollen places he'd just claimed—your jaw, the sensitive skin under your ear, the side of your throat now marked with his insistence.
You felt his hands flexed rough against your waist, as if you couldn’t already feel his passion from the way every kiss seared into you. He wasn’t being gentle. He wasn’t trying to be.
He sucked hard just beneath your ear, another kiss he was making sure would bloom into a bruise, and you felt yourself melt against the counter, knees unsteady, hands curling into his shoulders. He nipped lower, to the crook where your neck met your shoulder again, mouth hot and open, dragging a slow, wet kiss across the skin before biting down enough for you to suck in a sharp breath.
You squirmed, a quiet moan escaping you as he moved again, lips brushing across the top of your chest—he latched onto a spot above your heart, sucking hard and slow until the pressure left another raw and aching mark.
He pulled back for a moment to look at the trail he’d left—faint hues turning deeper by the second. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and sure. Then he dipped again, mouth sealing over your pulse point, sucking as you gasped and gripped his hair.
“You are mine.” He spoke into your skin. “Always.”
Each place he touched burned, and you knew he meant for it to last. He didn’t pause to ask if it was too much. He didn’t need to—not when you were all but pushing him deeper into your neck, moaning at just the thought of how you knew you’d feel him for hours afterward.
You’d barely nodded to agree when his mouth found yours again, in a kiss that was all heat and friction. Even deeper this time—slower, more layered.
His tongue brushed against yours once, coaxing rather than demanding. A hand came up to cradle the back of your neck while the other gripped your waist, anchoring you as his hips slotted between your legs. You kissed him back eagerly, breath quickening, hands threading through his hair again to tug him closer.
Then his hand drifted lower. Confident and unhurried—he began to work the button of your jeans open. The pop of it coming undone broke the rhythm of your breathing in anticipation, and you gasped softly into his mouth. By the time his hand eased beneath the waistband of your underwear, the heat stirring low and tight in your stomach had been long-awaiting, and you lifted your hips slightly for him.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a shaky breath as his fingers first grazed you.
He stroked you slowly at first, his touch precise and maddeningly slow, just enough to tease. His fingers moved in light circles, brushing over your clit before retreating just off over and over again. Then he’d sweep lower to slide through the wetness he was pulling from you, then come back up, stopping just short of where you were aching for more. Each pass felt like a test, like he was daring you to ask—to beg.
You whimpered, thighs twitching as your hips rolled into his hand, trying to catch more of him. Your breath hitched every time he withdrew, a soft noise slipping from you that only made him smirk against your jaw.
He pulled back a little to watch your reactions. To take in every flutter of your lashes, every rise of your chin. His jaw was tense, but his eyes blown out and almost prideful at the sight of you all flushed and breathless under his touch.
"Look at you," he whispered, sounding just as reverent as he did possessive. "Who else could make you feel like this?"
You shook your head, and barely breathed out a response. “Just you.”
You bucked into his fingers just then and a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it, soft and breathy and helpless. The sound made something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, hunger, maybe both. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing the tail end of your moan. His lips moved hard and sure against yours and you kissed him back the best you could, but it was messier now, shakier—your lips parting against as his fingers kept working between your thighs, unrelenting, Jannik knowing exactly what to do to keep pulling more sounds from you.
It was calculated and intimate and almost cruel just how well he knew exactly what and how to withhold to make you feel everything that much more.
And then he finally slipped a single finger inside you, slowly easing past your walls in a way that made your breath seize. You really couldn’t kiss him back now—not properly, not when you moaned into his mouth as your body clamped down in welcome, greedy for more.
He moved carefully at first and your mouth fully slackened against his when his finger curled just right inside you. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as your kiss devolved into breathy little gasps. Jannik let you break the kiss, but stayed close to watch your face, the flicker of his eyes sharp on your every expression as his mouth hovered by yours, his breaths and your gasps mixing.
When he slid in a second finger, your hips jerked forward with a choked sound. The stretch was perfect—full, insistent—and his rhythm stayed steady, coaxing and pressing and dragging against that spot that made your spine arch. His fingers moved inside you in tight, controlled strokes, curling expertly against that sweet, devastating spot with every push. And the heel of his palm caught your clit with every movement, sending sparks ricocheting through your body.
You let your head fall forward against his collarbone. Your lips moved but no sound came out at first, your whole body pulsing under the weight of what he was doing to you. You bit out the words. “Please, Jan."
He grinned, low and pleased, you felt the smile from his cheek against your head.
And then he gave you just enough.
Your body was trembling now, hips grinding into the counter, seeking friction anywhere you could get it. Every nerve ending was lit up, every breath a shallow shudder. Your moans came in uneven bursts, higher-pitched now, and you were barely holding on.
“Jan—”
He growled low in his throat when he felt you pulse around him, and his thumb pressed down just right on your clit—firm, steady, circling in time with every stroke inside you. You cried out, the sound raw and desperate, and his eyes went darker.
“Jannik.” You moaned his name again, drawn out and wrecked, a sound you couldn’t hold back.
His hand slid up from your waist, pulling your head from his chest, his fingers wrapped around the front of your neck—not squeezing, just holding, firm and possessive. He tilted your head back with the soft pressure of his palm so he could watch everything, eyes locked on yours, demanding that you stay with him, show him every second of how you fell apart under his touch.
"Again," he breathed. “Say it again.”
You whimpered it this time, more breath than voice, and he rewarded you with a deeper curl of his fingers inside you, his thumb never letting up on your clit.
"Again. Look at me when you say it."
You did—barely opening your eyes, your gaze glassy and heavy lidded as you panted out his name once more.
His breath caught, something guttural and satisfied tearing from his throat. He doubled down on everything—his pace faster but just as controlled, his fingers thrusting into you with unrelenting precision, curling harder with every inward push to grind against that spot that made your vision blur. His thumb pressed tighter against your clit, circling with more insistence, the rhythm perfectly synced to each thrust of his fingers. Every motion was deliberate, practiced, devastating and you were chasing it shamelessly now. Hips jerking forward to meet every stroke, your hands gripping his forearms, his shoulders, anything you could reach.
Your moans were louder now, higher, breath breaking in sharp bursts as you writhed against the Jannik, your thighs trembling around his wrist. Your gaze met his in flickering, desperate intervals—barely holding, your lashes fluttering, pupils blown wide. You tried to keep looking, tried to hold his eyes, though each wave of pleasure made your vision blur and your head loll.
Because just the look on his face—dark and possessive, lips parted just slightly as he drank it all in, every twitch of your mouth, every helpless tip of your chin—that alone was enough to send you over. The way he was watching you come apart because of him, just for him.
"—close. Jan, I’m close," you gasped, your voice cracking as he let your head fall forward against him again. He held you to his chest, a light hand on the top of your hair.
“That’s it. Just like that.” Jannik muttered above you. You felt him dip his face into the crown of your head, breathing in deep.
You were unraveling, the pleasure curling tighter with each second, pushing you closer. The edge of the island dug into the backs of your thighs as you clung to him, gasping his name again and again, broken and urgent.
And when you shattered, pulsing around his fingers, your mouth was open and his name was still on your lips like a prayer. Your knees buckled instantly, body sagging against him as the wave of pleasure overtook you—all-consuming. You clung to him, legs trembling, gasping against his chest as aftershocks rippled through your core, his fingers now gentle inside you, coaxing out every last drop of your release.
But then you barely had time to come down from the high before he was moving again, further stirred by the feeling of you falling apart under him.
He pulled his fingers from you slowly, making you shudder at the sensitivity. Before you could catch your breath, his hands were already on your waist, spinning you around with a firm, determined grip. You stumbled slightly from the motion, only for your chest to meet the island a second later, cool marble shocking against your flushed skin.
He bent you over it without hesitation, crowding you forward until your hips bumped the edge. With a strong hand at your lower back, he pressed you down until your torso was flush against the surface, your back in a deep arch and your hips jutting back toward him.
His other hand slid down to spread your legs just a little wider, positioning you without words, until you were aligned perfectly. You gasped, bracing yourself against the counter as your body adjusted to the sudden new angle. You couldn't help but whimper at his decisive adjustments, just as eager for more.
You heard a rustle as he quickly stepped out of his shorts and boxers and clenched in anticipation. He wasted no time, yanking your pants and underwear down past your knees in one motion.
One hand pressed low between your shoulder blades to keep low as you squirmed, the other sliding over the curve of your ass. Your thighs instinctively parted, your breath hitching as the head of his cock dragged against your entrance. You were still pulsing, sensitive and slick from everything he’d just pulled from you, and the feeling of him lining up behind you sent another sharp thrill through your core.
He stepped even closer behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other guiding himself. And then he plunged into you in a single, fluid thrust.
You cried out at the entrance, fingers gripping the marble edge as your body adjusted to the sudden fullness.
And then, after only a moment, he set on with a punishing rhythm from the start, each thrust deep and fast, his hips snapping into yours with force that made the counter squeak beneath your grip. The feeling of the stretch was heightened in your sensitivity, and every push sent jolts of sensation ricocheting through your limbs.
Any restraint from earlier had shattered the second he saw you come undone the first time, and now he’d filtered out entirely into possession and urgency. His hand stayed firm on your hip, holding you steady while the other braced against the counter beside you, angling his body so he could drive deeper. Your thighs trembled, your back arched instinctively, and your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the counter as you gasped for air. Every stroke hit hard, thick and relentless, and your breath stuttered into broken moans, louder with each thrust as he filled you just right. The drag and slide of him inside you had your toes curling, fingers scrambling for any grip on the surface. Every time he bottomed out, your whole body clenched around him in response.
He growled behind you, low and ragged, his breath hot on your neck as he leaned forward, grinding his hips to push himself even deeper. "You feel that? You were—" another thrust, harder, sharper— "made for me."
You nodded, whimpering, the sound barely coherent over the slap of skin and the breathless whine that tore from your throat. You didn’t need to say it—your body said it for you, rocking back against him, desperate for every inch, for every rough, possessive thrust he gave you. His hand smacking against your ass as his pace snapped harder and you moaned openly, helplessly, each sound tumbling from your lips without restraint.
You were soaked and throbbing, your walls gripping him tight, and the way he kept hitting that perfect angle—again and again—had your vision going white at the edges. You couldn’t stay still, hips rolling, chasing him with every motion, trying to take him deeper, harder. Trying to get him impossibly closer.
The noises spilling out of you now were shameless—gasps, choked sobs of pleasure, whines that only grew higher the more he fucked into you.
And then his hand snaked around your hip and down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit with ease. He rubbed it in tight, firm circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts, the contact sending a shock straight through your core.
You thought you might have collapsed from it, had you not already been flush against the island.
Your body jolted, the added friction so overwhelming it bordered on unbearable. Your moan cracked apart, high and strained, hips bucking wildly beneath his grip.
"Jannik—fuck—I’m gonna—"
"Let go again," he leaned forward to say into your ear, breath hot and ragged. "Give it to me."
His fingers pressed harder, holding the pressure just how you liked it—you rocked forward into his hand and then back into him each time. Your body clamped down around him, desperate and close, and he could feel every gasp, every pulse inside you.
A cry was ripped from your throat—raw, uncontrollable—as another orgasm crashed over you. Your walls seized around him, fluttering in tight, wet pulses that drew a strangled groan from his chest. Your entire body convulsed, legs trembling so hard you nearly lost your footing. You pressed your face into your arm on the counter, eyes squeezed shut, your voice catching in broken gasps and whimpers as the pleasure continued to clench.
Behind you, Jannik's pace slowed abruptly, almost to a stop—his rhythm breaking as he gasped through gritted teeth. You could feel him twitch inside you, still hard, still thick.
"Fuck, I have to—” He hissed and leaned over you, panting “... I'm close."
As he said it, his hand slipped up the back of your neck to curl into your hair to gently pull you upright with him as he straightened. Your back pressed against his chest, breath still ragged, and he turned your face just enough to capture your lips in a messy, heated kiss. You moaned softly into it, still catching your breath but eager—your body still humming, somehow still open and greedy for more. The feeling of him still inside you, pulsing with tension, only made the urge return faster. You reached a hand behind to clutch at his hip, grounding yourself as he deepened the kiss, groaning softly into your mouth.
Then he pulled back slightly, steadying you with a hand on your waist as he guided you forward and down once more. This time, it wasn’t sudden—it was measured and careful. He bent you slowly back over the counter, one hand keeping your hips anchored while the other hooked under your knee, lifting your leg up and setting your foot on a lower-cabinet handle. The stretch opened you up to him completely and you gasped at tilt, moaning when he slid out then back in with one smooth thrust, hitting even deeper than before.
The edge of the island bit into your skin and your elevated leg trembled even where Jannik held it in place. The change was immediate—every stroke hit higher, sharper, right where you needed it most. You couldn’t even get out his name, your fingers clinging for the surface as he picked up the pace again—harder, deeper, the sound of skin against skin quickening in tempo. His grip on the back of your thigh tightened, holding your leg steady against the cabinet handle as his other hand returned to your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He used the leverage to pull you back into each thrust, fucking you with the kind of force that made you cry out with every slam of his hips. The new angle had you seeing stars. Each stroke devastating in pleasure, making your walls flutter and clench around him uncontrollably. Your mouth hung open, voice cracking under the onslaught of sensation.
Behind you, Jannik was falling apart too. He groaned low and deep, each thrust punctuated by a ragged breath or a curse hissed between his teeth. His pace stuttered once, twice, as your body clenched hard around him, and he choked out your name.
The sound of his hips meeting yours echoed in the kitchen in a wet, slick rhythm. You were soaked from your earlier orgasms and now every thrust was a liquid slap that filled the air.
Your body was trembling, overstimulated and raw and needy—and the new angle was devastating. Your walls spasmed around him, and the squelch of each thrust grew louder with your arousal. And behind you, Jannik cursed low and desperate, burying himself to the hilt with a shudder, his voice nothing but a rasp against your spine.
"You take me so well," he groaned. "Come again. Just for me—come on."
You whined, unable to form words, your jaw slack as another wave of heat coiled inside you.
Your legs shook. Your moan turned into a cry—raw and unraveling—as the pressure inside you surged to a boiling point. Jannik’s thrusts grew harder, more erratic. He was panting behind you, each breath a ragged growl, his teeth grit as he chased his own high through the way your body clenched around him.
His hand on your hip was brutal now, doing all the work as you gave in, pulling you back to meet every snap of his hips.
"One more," his voice was more of a whimper than a growl now. "Let me feel you… please."
And that did it. Your vision went white, your muscles locking up as your climax tore through you—hot and overwhelming. Your walls clamped down around him in wet, pulsing waves, and you heard a guttural curse behind you just before he thrust deep one final time and then stilled.
Jannik came hard with you, letting out a groan as his body tensed against yours. He spilled into you with a shudder, head bowed between your shoulder blades, breath hot and stuttering. One of his hands curled tightly around your waist, the other still holding your leg up even as it shook in his grasp from the release. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak—just held you there, still buried deep, panting. Jannik’s chest pressed tightly against your back, every inch of him still wrapped around and inside you for a long moment.
Eventually, with a shaky exhale and a kiss on your spine, he loosened his hold on your waist and gently lifted your leg off from the cabinet handle, guiding it back down until it touched the floor again. Even then, he didn’t step away—arms wrapping fully around your middle, peeling you off the island to hold you close.
You both stayed that way, letting your heartbeats slow, and when you finally stirred, Jannik’s arms stayed locked around you, steady and warm.
You turned in them slowly, your legs shaky, your chest brushing his as you shifted to face him. He didn’t let go—just moved his hold so his hands slipped to the small of your back.
You kissed him again, and this time it was soft. Just lips pressing gently, mouths brushing in a tender echo of everything that had come before.
When you finally broke apart, you didn’t go far—just rested your foreheads together for a beat before slipping into a quiet embrace. You leaned into the island and looped your arms over his shoulders, and his slid up your back as he pulled you flush against him.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin on a slow exhale, tucked into the side of your throat where your pulse still thudded, and you leaned your head to rest against his. You stayed there, tangled and quiet, your breaths syncing as the silence turned soft and golden. His hand pressed you close, and you reached a hand over to the nape of his neck to gently play with curls.
And then he whispered your name softly into your skin, kissing the curve of your neck, his words muffled but clear all the same. “I love you.”
You let it hang in the air for a moment, then gently threaded your fingers through the back of his hair to tug softly, coaxing his face up from your neck.
His eyes met yours, and all traces of the tension seemed to have melted from his expression.
And you knew—there was nothing more to clear up, nothing more to reassure. Any doubt at all being false and fleeting. You were his just as wholly as he was yours, and he knew that.
But you figured you’d say as much anyways.
"You know it’s only ever been you for me, right?" you said softly, brushing your thumb along the side of his face. "... You’re not just the only one who can make me feel this way—You’re the only one I want... Ever… Always."
"I love you.” You added, leaning in to press your forehead to his. “I’m your biggest fan, and it’s not even close."
His arms tightened around you and he exhaled against you, your words only settling what he already knew. You stayed there like that, the heat of him pressed against you, the love resting in that space between your breaths.
---
“... You’re still making dinner, right?”
“Is it too late for take out?”
{{{
Added the jealousy plot point in last minute, because who doesn't love that!! Tried my best to make both reader and Jannik faultless despite it... Wanted their relationship to be loving and supportive at its core, and I didn't want either of them crossing any relationship lines and tetering on toxic, you know? Just wanted some tasteful tension and a perfectly acceptable and healthy fight and hot, hot sex with getting dicked down the fuck down against a countertop as a resolution.
Also!! The very last minute additions means that this is not so proofread... apologies
Been sitting on this one for a minute. I kind of maybe did too much, idk... Working on reigning in to an appropriate amount, so thoughts and feedback on my pacing and description when it comes to smut or any writing is much appreciated!! xx
