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ahundredtimesover · 6 months

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I Want You to Stay (11) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (making out - I know, finally) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 23.5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii so this was quite the wait! We have come to the climax of the story and I'm both excited and terrified to share this with you. I have nothing more to say other than see you on the other side! 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Whenever Jungkook creates some distance between you and him, you often understand it. It’s his default, you think, and after learning about the pain he harbors from his childhood, you’ve come to accept it. You expect it, even.

Recently though, he hasn’t been doing much of it. He often moves closer; sometimes, he lets you do it. Tonight, it’s both - he stands near you, he holds you, and he lets you slowly close the distance until you’re just a breath away. And for a brief moment, you think that he’d eliminate it altogether.

But you’re not in some fantasy world, so when he pulls away, you’re reminded of who you are and who he is and that sliver of hope goes up in flames.

“I—” he mumbles.

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

You grab your bag then rush outside, exhaling the breath you were holding in and letting the shame fill you up as fast as the elevator reaches the first floor. You want to run to rid yourself of the embarrassment, maybe be irresponsible for once and get drunk just to forget. Maybe when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find out it was all a dream - you didn’t actually want to kiss your boss, you didn’t actually think he’d kiss you back, and he didn’t actually pull away, as if it stung him to touch you, as if it hurt him to try.

But the thought doesn’t last long.

You get on a bus and convince yourself that staying sober tonight is a better option than reporting hungover to work tomorrow. You’ll feel embarrassed either way, but might as well be more professional about it, considering that what you’d almost done - and all the things you thought about - was nothing but that. You settle for just cup noodles for dinner; you don’t deserve anything nicer than that tonight.

Sleep doesn’t come until past one later in the evening. You spend much of your time tossing and turning, trying hard to erase the image of Jungkook so close to you.

But nothing works. All you see are his lips. All you can hear is his breathing. All you can smell is him.

You wake up four hours later, exhausted and incredibly anxious for the day. You want it to be over already, and you half think of calling in sick but you know that’ll be too obvious. It could set off alarm bells to Jungkook and he might call and ask how you are, and that’s something you can’t deal with either. So you power through and nap in the car, not wanting to converse with Mr. Ri because you might tell him everything should he ask the right questions.

Your plan of action is to engage with Jungkook as little as you can, in any way that’s possible. You play around with things in his kitchen and make sure you have your back turned when he exits from his gym. The energy drink and glass of water are on the counter and you sense him lingering before he finally walks to his bedroom. You let some time pass before going to his closet to prepare his accessories for the day, then head back out, cooking his omelet as slowly as you can.

The clearing of his throat lets you know he’s done, and you glance at him before placing the dishes on the table.

This isn’t the routine. You always fix his necktie once he shows up. It’s reflex for you, and you know that’s what he’s come to expect as well.

But you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. It’s basically like re-enacting what happened last night and you can’t promise yourself that you won’t want to kiss him again when he’s that close. You can’t look him in the eyes, you can’t take in his scent, you can’t hear his breathing without remembering how he felt like. You know you can’t have it again, so you won’t even torture yourself even more than you already are.

His tie is slightly off and it disturbs you. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t ask you to fix it.

You sigh to yourself. He’ll live.

You eat quickly and it’s a contrast to him picking on his food. You’re tempted to ask if the dish isn’t to his liking, but you told yourself not to start conversations or engage in anything outside of work matters, and you’ll stick to that for as long as possible.

“___.”

“Mr. Jeon, I’ve prepared your notes for today’s meetings,” you state before he could say anything more. “And I’m meeting with the marketing team about the additional promotional materials you wanted. Is there anything else you wish to add to the ones we talked about?”

“None for now. They can go ahead with my initial request,” he responds, his voice too soft than what you’re used to, but you don’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

You ask a few more questions and he responds accordingly. The silence is deafening and though you miss the playful banter that has become part of your mornings, you know you can’t get into that right now. Somehow, this is when you can’t act like everything’s normal. Your stupid mistake and foolish assumption is where you draw the line. You just hope the day ends quickly enough before you give in.

Both of you head down to the car. Before going inside, you hear Jungkook ask Mr. Ri how he looks and if his tie is fixed, and you internally smack your head for being so petty about this. You didn’t think that something seemingly trivial about your daily routine with him would affect you this much, as if it somehow threw things off-balance just because you were so afraid to be close. You realize now that you would look forward to those few seconds because that was the only time you had a reason to touch him.

But he’s everything you can’t desire and given that you almost crossed a line, you know you’re gonna have to slowly pull back. Not just with regards to your feelings but in everything, as you take a peek of your personal phone and see an email notification about an upcoming book launch from Rkive Publishing. You subscribed to their mailing list right after you met their director, and you’ve been sitting on his email address and the application letter you have yet to submit.

Since that encounter, you’ve been occasionally looking at other job opportunities in different fields. You realize that nothing much excites you. There’s not much you think is worth slaving your way for in this corporate jungle, and that while you’re currently part of that machine, the only thing that got you going these past eight years was the debt you had to pay.

You had your reasons to stay but being at this point when you’re ready to let that go, you’re realizing that there wasn’t much else about the job that got you truly excited. Sure, it was also the people, but they’re why you couldn’t leave. It wasn’t until the planning for the Arts Center that you felt you could truly be invested in a project and have impact on it, too; it just so happens that the man behind it is the reason why you have to step away. You know it’s the only way you could finally choose yourself and pursue what you want. At 31, you owe it to yourself to do that.

Your thoughts are disrupted when the familiar building comes into view, and you exit the car and head to your floor, trailing Jungkook this time instead of walking by his side as what you’ve come to do. You can tell that he notices the distance but you don’t want to address it. Being terrible at any form of confrontation, you don’t really want to acknowledge anything that happened. You’ll deal with him if he brings it up, and for all the times that you screwed up, you wish to the heavens that Jungkook lets this one go.

You head to your desk while he heads to his. You make him his coffee then ask him to sign some documents. You focus on his hands as he flips through the pages, preferring to look at those instead of his face. But it’s those fingers that pressed against you last night, and you shake your head at the memory, even if all you want is to feel them again.

You retrieve the papers, your heart stopping when he doesn’t let them go right away. Your eyes widen and you still don’t look at him, even as you anticipate him to say something.

“___.”

“Mr. Min asked to meet with you after lunch,” you cut him off again before he could say more.

“I know. That email was sent to you and me.”

“Yes, sir. I was just making sure.”

He lets go of the papers now and you bow before quickly heading out. You just know he had his eyebrows scrunched at you. He’s probably trying to make sense of how jittery you seem and though he may know why, you’re not sure if he knows why.

You get through the morning in one piece. You attend your meeting while Jungkook attends his own with his father. You grab a quick lunch with Do-hyun, whose narration of her love life takes up the whole half hour, then you return to your tasks once you finish.

Hyper-focused on the file you’re reviewing, Yoongi’s usually unenthusiastic greeting catches you off guard, causing your lips to miss the hot tea that you’re about to drink. You jerk, spilling all of it on you. You subsequently hit the saucer that’s on the edge of the table; it falls on the floor and breaks.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell, as you feel the drink pool on your skirt.

“Shit, is it burning?” Yoongi asks worriedly.

He immediately rushes to your side and grabs some paper towels from the cabinet, placing them on your lap and on the floor.

“Don’t move so you don’t spread the broken pieces,” he instructs. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m just uncomfortable,” you groan, with your knees awkwardly touching each other and your thighs squeezed to keep the liquid from spreading.

You’re at least in a black skirt but you know the stain will still be visible. That’s the least of your problems though, as Jungkook arrives from his meeting and heads to you with a folder, only to find Yoongi kneeling on the floor next to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen, seemingly scandalized at what this looks like, and they flit from you to his friend, whose calm face quickly turns into one of panic.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi explains, raising the soiled paper towels as evidence. He tells you to move back so he can place them over the shards while Jungkook looks on intently. “Are you good? Do you have spare clothes?” Yoongi asks you.

“Uh, ye-yeah,” you manage to say, hating how frozen you seem to be. With the tea having been absorbed, you grab your bag from your cabinet, the one you’ve started to keep and bring with you during trips in case you get stranded again, then throw the towels in the trash bin. “I’ll just go get changed.”

You scurry towards the washroom and leave the men alone, knowing that Yoongi will hold the fort for both of you.

Back inside, Jungkook eyes Yoongi as he calls for maintenance to clean up the mess.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi says again. “She couldn’t move and I just cleaned up.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jungkook states.

“Just making sure, so your mind doesn’t think of whatever it thinks about,” Yoongi shrugs. “But is she okay? She seems a bit out of it.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook looks away. “Don’t you usually know those things?”

“Well, I assume that since you’ve gotten closer, you would know. Unless it’s about you… Were you mean to her again?”

Yoongi’s unusual scowl is one that Jungkook is secretly terrified of but he acts unaffected, merely shaking his head in response and to dismiss the assumption. He’ll admit that his friend’s statement is quite bittersweet, though. Yes, you and Jungkook have both gotten closer and there hasn’t been an incident in months where you could’ve had a reason to be down because of him.

Unless last night counts, which is something he’s still wrapping his head around.

He thinks back to that moment right by your desk. You were so close. And he was so close to doing something more than just holding onto your waist. He saw you eye his lips and he did the same but the realization of where you both were - in a semi-open space in the office - reminded him of his limits. Sure, it was after-hours and no one would have any reason to be on the floor at that time, but it still felt too exposed and he didn’t want either of you to be put in such a compromising position, even if every part of his body was aching to kiss you.

He wouldn’t have known you were talking about him if it weren’t for the way you held him close and that unfamiliar look of yearning in your eyes. At that moment, he let himself hope that he’s who you wanted, even if he’s also the same man you believed wouldn’t cross his boundaries for you.

Even then, you had been so bold, so honest. He wished he was as brave and as capable to express his desires as you were. He never thought you’d feel anything for him - him, the one who made your life miserable for weeks, the one who treated you unfairly because you made him feel - and want - things he couldn’t understand and control. Your calm and warm nature made him think he wasn’t anyone special. He dismissed whatever part of him that thought otherwise because he couldn’t hope for something he couldn’t have.

But last night, the way you looked at him also made him feel like all he desired was within reach, like you were within his grasp. Your lips were everything he wanted all over him. Your soft breaths were what he wanted to take in. You were all he wanted to taste and touch and hear, and he’d been so, so close to crossing a line that he said he wouldn’t because he was afraid it would push you away and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He was overwhelmed but he was just as scared, believing that there’s no turning back if something had happened. He almost stepped over the line but pulled back just as quickly, and now it seems that that’s what’s keeping you at a distance. Because as you return to your desk, you merely bow at him then go through the folder of documents he’d given you.

“Yoongi and I will just meet for an hour,” he says. “Please be ready with the Arts Center opening event budget that I’ll go through with Hoseok later.”

“That’s noted, sir.”

Jungkook sighs in disappointment as you don’t spare him a glance. He just wants to see those eyes again, the ones that yearned for him last night, the ones that asked him - almost challenged him - to get closer. But he’d been the coward who let you go, and now he doesn’t know how to turn back from this.

He enters his room then turns around to face Yoongi.

“I feel so much and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” his friend hums, feeling relieved that Jungkook can now acknowledge something he’d known for a while now. But Yoongi also knows that it’s not that simple, and while he knows of the possibility that you feel the same, reciprocated feelings don’t always mean happy endings. “Just don’t… just don’t hurt her,” he adds.

“Why do I feel like whatever I do, it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway?”

“She’ll know when you mean it and when you don’t. And you know what helps?”

“What?”

“Letting her know that hurting her isn’t what you want to do. You’ve got a lot to say, Jungkook, I know it,” Yoongi remarks. “Just be brave enough to say them.”

Yoongi’s words linger in Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the day, especially during the times that he peeks through the window to get a glimpse of you. You seem determined not to look his way, as you don’t even attempt to look at his direction all afternoon. There is a lot he’s got to say, he just doesn’t know what they are or how to say them. It’s always been that way when it comes to you - he feels so much, but he's unable to let you know.

Despite your avoidance all day, he feels your absence even more when you leave at 6PM, on the dot, without sparing him a glance. He could run after you and ask to talk. He wouldn’t know how to start that conversation though, but if it would bring you to finally look at him or say his name, then it would be enough.

He just wants to know what last night meant for you. And if it means what he hopes it does, then maybe it isn’t about turning back but moving forward. He knows it will be complicated, but he wants to figure it out with you. He’ll choose the path where he gets to be around you, close to you. Always.

Jungkook pulls out the bottle of whiskey he keeps in his drawer to momentarily drown out these thoughts. For some, liquor gives them courage. For him, he drinks it because he’s afraid to be brave.

As he replays the way you looked at him last night, he wonders to himself what he’s more scared of - never having you close enough, or losing you completely.

The three films you watch in the cinema that Saturday afternoon are a good distraction to all the thoughts in your head. You occasionally do this because watching other people’s lives play out in film gives you something to ponder about. Sometimes, you let it inspire you to live differently. Other times, it allows you a peek into a life much more exciting than the one you have. In some instances, it gives you a sense of relief that yours is uneventful, lacking in drama and intrigue.

At this moment, you’re not quite sure what you want out of it other than to forget. What exactly, you’re not sure. Is it the way you felt when Jungkook held you? Is it the way he seemed to want more and then nothing at all? Or is it the hope you had that you’d found someone you were willing to give a bit of yourself to, only for the glass to shatter because that’s not what you do - you don’t desire for things not meant for you; you don’t open yourself to heartbreak like that.

Jungkook has always made you feel a lot of things. This time is no different. But this time it also means more. You could lose him completely or have something with him that could be beautiful. One would hurt right away and the other could hurt you down the road. You don’t know which one you’re willing to suffer through.

Suddenly you wish you didn’t get to this point at all. You could’ve left when you had the chance. You could’ve let him not mean to you this much.

You continue to wallow in the sadness. You eat dinner at a ramen place before going home and settling in bed with your best friends on video call. You tell them about the past two days and narrate your moments with Jungkook during the team building that you left out when you spoke to them about it. Looking at them through the screen, you see a mix of understanding and frustration on their faces.

“Why are you avoiding him, hun?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and comforting.

“Because I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, burying your face on the pillow. “I was so… shameless. I don’t even know what got into me. He just looked at me and I… lost all sense. Who was I to assume that moment would end well? That he’d reciprocate that honesty?”

“And you think not talking about it will rid you of that embarrassment?” She wonders.

“No. But it’s at least better than facing it,” you frown. “I’m not good with words nor feelings. And I’m sure that neither is he. I’m just trying to be professional now because I obviously wasn’t.”

You leave out your fears about meeting his eyes and hearing what he has to say. Even if he returns whatever you feel, there’s so much burden tied to that and you don’t think you’re ready for it. You don’t think you’re ready for any of this.

“It doesn’t seem sustainable though,” Soomin points out. “You’re together all the time. You’ve created a routine and a dynamic that you’ve gotten so used to. It takes more effort to avoid the whole thing, don’t you think?”

“I guess but… we’re all busy with the Arts Center opening. And I plan on tending my resignation right after,” you explain. “There’s no time to talk about feelings. I’ll just let it die down. It’s stupid to have them in the first place.”

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn towards her. “You don’t agree with me, do you?”

“I just don’t think it’s stupid to be feeling what you’re feeling,” Soomin replies. “You spend so much time together. You’re bound to form some attachment and develop affection for him, regardless of how things started. I mean, through all the late-nights and early mornings and stresses and comfort in between, there’s something only two of you share and understand. That’s not stupid. That’s how connections are formed, hun.”

Attachment. Connection. They terrify you but they’re things that you desire as well. You don’t know how deep they are when it comes to Jungkook and you don’t know if they’re something he feels towards you, too.

“Maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that it isn’t that serious,” she adds. “Maybe it’s because you know that it is, and you don’t know if it’s worth pursuing, if it’s worth finding out if he returns it and if being with him is something that can happen.”

You look away, knowing the truth in her words. You turn to Jimin, who’s been unusually quiet all evening.

“What do you think Jimin?” You ask him. “I mean, it’s one thing to feel something and another to act on it and risk everything for it, right?”

“There’s always something you risk once you acknowledge what you feel for another person,” he says after pondering about it. “For me, acting on it just depends on two things. Is it good for me, and is it good for them? In your case, it’s something to really think about. You’re you and he’s him. And you know what I mean. You’ve been wanting to walk away from this company for years, ___. You wanna be something outside of it. How does being with your boss help with that?”

Jimin’s words remind you of something else you’ve been yearning for - that search for who you are outside of your work, outside of all the years you spent working for this family that have become a core part of who you are. For people like you who have to work extra hard for the things you have, it becomes natural for your job to define you as a means of survival. It doesn’t give you power nor influence; it just gives you a means to get to the next day and to give back to the one person who sacrificed everything for you.

As the years went by, it became more difficult to pull away. This family trusts you, and your confidence has only ever increased as an employee of this company, but not as a professional. You’ve been wanting to learn who you are without the burdens you carry, without the need to constantly prove yourself to the people who helped make you, and Jungkook ties you to all this. Whether it’s pursuing him or working for him, you’re afraid you’ll never be brave enough to do things on your own.

You weren’t supposed to be this attached. You weren’t supposed to be this invested. You weren’t supposed to want to be wanted back.

But Jungkook made you care. He made you feel. He made you be brave. And he’s now the one you have to pull away from.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Maybe in a way, I needed this to happen. I needed this… moment to remind me that I have to leave and I can’t let him be another reason for me to stay, not when I feel what I feel, and not when I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“What if he does, though?” Soomin asks. “And what if he asks you to stay?”

“Thinking about it now, I hope he doesn’t,” you say. “It’d be much easier for me if he just lets me go. I can finally walk away from all this. And I can get over what I feel.”

“Is that what you really want?” Soomin adds.

You nod in response. “At least I know I’ll be happy outside of working for the company. Who knows what having him in my life would bring me?”

The book cafe in Mapo district boasts of an elegant yet comfortable design. It has three levels that consist of a library and working spaces, but it’s on the first floor that you find yourself in, tucked in one of the corner tables at the back with your iced coffee and fruit tart.

You listen in awe as the author reads excerpts from her newly released book, which she narrates with vigor and emotion. She answers questions about her purpose for writing this specific story, the inspiration for the characters, and interesting things like who she’d cast if it were to become a movie and what the playlist would sound like. It’s the first book launch you’ve ever been to, and despite not being an avid reader, you have a feeling that it won’t be your last.

There’s something about the storytelling and the process of creating something that captivates you. There’s not much of that in your world. It’s all numbers and profits. It’s soulless, if you’re being honest. It doesn’t give you time to feel or live in the moment or actually bask in the work that you do. You’re there to support, to assist, and while that used to be something you were proud of, the past year has made you think that it’s truly time to move on from it. It’s made you desensitized to things like joy and hope and love, which prompts you to realize that those are what have been missing. Working on the Arts Center gave you a taste of it. You’ve come to the point where you want to know how those truly feel like, and the job has hindered you from fully finding it out.

All your emotions for Jungkook take a backseat the more you think about what your life could be, especially while you watch Namjoon gather what seems to be his team, as he congratulates them for a successful launch. They’re all in casual clothes, looking relaxed, relieved, and fulfilled as the event comes to a close and several people approach the author and ask her to sign their books. You can imagine the stress leading up to all this, but there’s satisfaction in putting together something this intimate and meaningful.

“You made it,” the man with the soft smile says, the child-like innocence of his face, a contrast to his very masculine build. “I’m glad those newsletters and email invites work.”

“I think they’re the only ones I actually read,” you say, earning you a brighter smile from him. “But honestly though, it helps that a book cafe is something I wouldn’t mind being in on a Sunday morning.”

“Exactly!” Namjoon beams. “It’s easy to make it a part of your weekend. Whether it translates to immediate sales isn’t the whole point, although that’s great, don’t get me wrong. But as long as there’s foot traffic and increased interest, then it’s a success. Our launches have been gaining traction on social media. And the—shit, sorry. I’m rambling again,” he chuckles. “I doubt you came here with the intention of listening to me talk about what we do and stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you assure him. “I don’t actually go to things like this but I thought it might be a good way to have a feel of what it’s like working for your company without inconveniencing you. I mean, I haven’t applied yet but I just wanted to see if this is something I’d enjoy doing.”

“And?” He asks in anticipation.

“It kind of is,” you admit. “I don’t know. There’s just something so personal about it.”

“There really is,” Namjoon nods.

His face turns serious now, something that happens when he’s about to go on a speech about whatever it is he feels strongly about. He’s expressive and it’s quite captivating, which is refreshing in a colleague, you realize.

Sitting across from you in your little nook in the cafe, he talks about the journey of this whole process, how he reached out to the author who turned out was trying to contact him as well. He was hoping to publish one of her manuscripts that was shared to him by a friend, but she offered this one instead, a very personal story that she trusted his company would do justice.

“I sat the whole team down and told them what this means for her as an author and as a person, and what that in turn could mean to the readers,” he continues. “There’s so much responsibility but the return is worth more than you could imagine. Of course, it’s not always easy. We have a relatively small team for the amount of things that we have to do but it works. Communication is smooth, accountability is shared, and we build our trust and respect in each other that way. I think that makes it even more worth it in the end.”

“You’re really trying to lure me in, aren’t you?” You laugh.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles. “I just think our meetings are serendipitous. There were two people who were supposed to take on the role but they backed out last minute - on both cases, I see you the next day. The universe probably has plans.”

“It probably does,” you nod, slowly believing him. “The only reason why I haven’t applied yet is because this is all so new to me and I may not be what you’re looking for.”

“But it could be that we’re what you’re looking for,” he counters. “Even if the industry is new to you, if it’s a place you’re comfortable in and that you think will help you grow professionally, then you become what we need. It’s give and take, really. Your approach to the work impacts how you do it. Yes, it’s still a job but it also means a lot more.”

“You’re very good at this,” you say, feeling more at ease as you speak with him, a stranger who has no idea what you’re going through but is somehow saying the exact things you need to hear. “I just have a timeline I’m working around. My company has an important thing coming up in several weeks and I don’t want to leave before then. It’s also why I’ve been delaying applying.”

“Hey, if we see that we’re a good fit for each other, then we can work around your timeline,” he says. “To help with that, maybe we can chat more casually to relieve you of the pressure. I have some things to return to the office not far from here and you can tell me a bit about the work that you do. What do you think?”

It’s a suggestion you take up, so you both start walking a few streets down to a mid-rise building, a structure that sits amidst cozy cafes and small parks.

The Rkive Publishing office is spacious. Instead of solo desks, there are large tables so there are more opportunities for collaborations, but there are small meeting rooms and private spaces as well. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves that are lined with hundreds of books, and quirky art pieces that give the place a unique yet personal touch. It’s leagues different from what you’re used to, and as you appreciate the way the sunlight makes the whole place glow, you start to think that Namjoon may be right - this might just be what you’re looking for.

You disclose who you work for then tell him your functions, narrate how a usual day looks like, and mention the types of people you usually engage with. But you share how you’ve felt lost in the chaos of everything and that you’ve been trying to find purpose in it but have been unable to.

Namjoon purses his lips, attempting to hide a smile, but you call him out on it.

“I’m just trying not to get too excited,” he reasons, giving in and chuckling now. “We need organization, a sense of urgency, a kind of professionalism that someone of your caliber could bring. I don’t want to get my hopes up and yes, there’s a process, but I hope you give us a chance.”

It’s easy to think that this man has no idea what he’s saying, but he’s been talking about going with his gut feeling all morning - he’s said as much that following his heart and doing what feels right for him allowed him to turn the company into what it is right now. Maybe meeting the first time was just a coincidence, but the pull of the universe - of you to this environment and him to you - is just too strong that you can’t help but think that maybe this is the next step for you. For all the challenges you went through all these years, maybe you deserve something a little more smooth sailing this time.

You don’t make any promises but you do assure him that you’ll send him an email. There are obviously other pressing matters that you have to deal with but this has been a good distraction, one that you allow to preoccupy you for the rest of the day.

After saying goodbye, you walk around the neighborhood and spend the afternoon by the river where you wonder about the people surrounding you.

What dilemmas are they facing? What heartbreaks are they trying to move on from? What new adventure are they preparing for? Or maybe, who are they trying to forget? Who’s waiting at home for them? Are they watching the sunset because they know it’s beautiful or because they’ve forgotten that it is?

You let out a breath once the sun has dipped and the sky has turned a dark shade of blue. You feel a mix of awe at its beauty and disappointment because the day has come to an end. You once more have to face the person you’ve been trying not to think about all weekend.

Giving yourself a pep talk, you go to bed that night with the plan of continuing what you did last Friday, which is avoiding any moments and any chances of talking about what happened. If Jungkook brings it up, then you’ll just have to face it and ask him to forget about that night and then deal with the consequences after. But there’s no way that you’ll say anything first; you’ll ride this out for as long as you can.

Avoiding talking to Jungkook about non-work matters - which is really what you only intended to do - is much more difficult when you have to pretend you don’t care about him.

That Monday morning, you stop yourself from asking how he’s doing after spotting the empty whiskey bottle and beer cans in his kitchen bin. While you give him the usual hangover remedy, you stop short of suggesting that he get some rest or buying him his favorite lunch dish.

During the meeting that you accompany him to in the afternoon, you watch him helplessly as his father hounds him with questions about the other projects, adding even more pressure than what he’s currently under, and you look away when he tries to meet your eyes. You used to send him encouragement through your gentle nods and soft smiles but you’re scared you’ll fall into your feelings once again if you do them, knowing that any sign of him needing you is all it would take for you to give in and talk to him, maybe comfort him.

You’ve become so weak for him, you realize that now. His detachment used to put you off and frustrate you, but knowing him the way you do, it’s what makes you want to be there for him; it’s what makes you want to assure him that you’re just there.

But you aren’t, because you’re pushing him away. You’re making him go through his confusion and stress and exhaustion all on his own because you’re a coward, too. You’re scared of your own feelings. You’re scared of them being rejected and you’re scared of them being returned. You didn’t realize just how much you are because you never actually felt something this deeply for anyone, and that terrifies you even more.

Watching him from your desk as he pores through documents on his laptop is hard, too. You’re done for the day but he’s said earlier that he’ll be staying late to finish a few things because there are many distractions at his place. You want to tell him they can wait, that he’ll need to rest and regain his energy for the week ahead, or that some fresh air could help clear his mind.

But you don’t. Instead, you pack your things and head out, knowing that much as it’s your decision to force this distance between both of you, it’s still something you wish you didn’t have to do. You don’t know how long you can sustain it, but somehow you know that once he gives in, so will you, and so all this might as well just be useless or even worse for you.

Mr. Ri picks up on the change the next morning, as he asks if you and Jungkook had an argument on the way to his penthouse.

“There was no argument, ” you answer. “There’s just a lot on my mind and he’s a big part of that. I just… I just don't know how to deal with things, you know?”

“Things like what?” Mr. Ri asks.

“Feelings,” you sigh. “I mean, you said they can’t be helped. And you’re right, I can’t. That’s my big problem right now.”

“Oh, ___,” he says, softly smiling through the rear view mirror.

You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, something he’s told you before he’s unsure how to do. You brush him off, saying you’ll figure it out, and he assures you that you could talk to him and that maybe, you need to just let it out to someone who knows what you’re battling against. You express your appreciation then inhale deeply once you arrive at Jungkook’s building.

The clanking sound of plates surprises you when you enter the penthouse. You walk cautiously towards the kitchen and find Jungkook already dressed in his work attire, placing the basket of toasted bread in the middle of the dining table where you spot the two plates with eggs in each. You wonder if you’re late, given that he’d gone ahead and made breakfast for both of you already.

“You’re on time,” he says after seeing you check your watch. “I was just up early. I couldn’t really sleep. I think I have too much on my mind.”

“I still could have made this for you,” you say so softly, Jungkook almost misses it.

“I didn’t mind,” he answers, wanting to say more, like that he thought it would be nice to make something for you for a change, or that he hopes you could see the effort.

But he keeps them to himself, just like the many other things that he doesn’t feel ready to verbalize. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since Thursday night, and he thinks that the distance you’re creating has made his desire even stronger, but so has the fear.

He spent the weekend downing alcohol and then boxing for hours to get rid of the hangover. The lemon ginger tea he made didn’t really work. He placed the bandage on his beat-up knuckles incorrectly, not like how perfectly you’d done it once. And the chicken noodle soup he ordered when he wasn’t feeling well last night didn’t taste as good as yours.

His mornings aren’t the same without the briefest touch from you from fixing his tie, or from the casual conversations during breakfast or in the car. There’s not much of your voice or your laughter that he hears, and definitely none of your smile that always encouraged him, that always assured him. This continues for the rest of the day, as he barely feels your presence unless he asks for it. And even then, it almost feels like you’re not there at all.

He feels so lost without you, unable to focus and function properly without your guidance and your care. He doesn’t know how or when he’s allowed himself to need you this much but it all feels so new yet familiar. All he wants is to be near you again but he admits that seeing you consistently pull away hurts him more than anything.

It’s why that Wednesday, he settles for only minimal glances at you in the car, why he conducts his morning meeting in a cafe instead, why he has the blinds on in his room all afternoon, and why he stays to work late and informs you that he’ll go straight to the Arts Center the next day so he’ll just meet you in the office.

He does all those so he’s forced to be around you less, so he doesn’t look up from his desk to find out that you don’t look his way anymore, so that it’s less difficult when you don’t do your usual routine with him. He at least won’t feel as bad when you don’t ask how he’s feeling if you don’t see him look terrible in the morning after not being able to sleep, or when you don’t fix his necktie for the fifth time this past week if he’s not around you in the first place.

You’ve been going out of your way to avoid him and if he had a bit more courage, he’d probably be able to ask what Thursday night was about and if you’d really wanted to kiss him like he did.

But he’s afraid of two things - that you’d ask him to forget all of it, or that you’d both have to figure out how to move forward if the feelings are indeed mutual. There are so many things that could go wrong but just as many that could go right - he’s scared to hurt you either way. And like he’s always said, he doesn’t know how to handle all of this; he doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels.

Thursday morning comes and while you’re relieved that you don’t have to tiptoe around Jungkook again in his own apartment and feel suffocated by the tension, you won’t lie and say that you deeply felt his absence. You also won’t deny that seeing him walk towards his office without sparing you a glance hurt you a little. You know him enough that he’s probably giving you the space that you’ve insisted on, but still, a part of you wonders if he’s just accepted it, too.

And when you hand him his notes for his late afternoon meeting then when he leaves for the CEO’s office without a look of acknowledgment, you worry that he’s become impatient, that he’ll keep pulling away for as long as you are, and that you’ll be so far apart that you’ll start to wonder if you’d come close to him at all.

But you did this, you remind yourself. You’d been the one to get close, to expect, and then to detach because you were so afraid of what would happen next, and what that would mean for you. He’s probably the last thread you’re holding onto, connecting you to this world that you’ve been planning on leaving for so long. Maybe you’re also scared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and the last thing you want is for him to be the reason why you can’t let go, and then resent him for it.

You sigh in your seat as the various thoughts plague your mind. You decide to go to the pantry for a cup of tea, knowing you have some time before Jungkook’s meeting with his father is scheduled to end.

The support team’s office is unnervingly quiet at 7PM with only Mr. Ri around, shaking his leg against the chair while browsing on his desktop. He greets you when you enter and then joins you to make his cup of coffee - his fourth for the day, he says - before you both head out the pantry and sit by the meeting table.

There aren’t any words said as you both blow away the steam from your respective hot drinks, merely letting the tranquility of the evening envelop the two of you. A few minutes pass and Mr. Ri finally looks up and asks why you’re still here, to which you reply that you wanted to be around when Jungkook’s meeting finishes in case he needs you to do something.

“There’s no need to drop me home,” you tell him. “I can manage on my own.”

“You know Jungkook won’t like that,” Mr. Ri responds. “He has strict instructions to drive for you whenever you stay out late. I can’t and won’t disobey those orders.”

You know this, which is why you sit in silence with your hands on your lap as if you’re being scolded, and you nod.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“He’s worried, you know?” Mr. Ri says after a while. “He’s been asking me how you’re doing, as if you’re not at the point in your relationship where he can directly talk to you. But I’ve actually been worried about him this past week. He stays up late to work, then goes home to work out. He’s not himself lately, always out of it and just… sad.”

“Did he… did he say anything else? About us, specifically?”

“He didn’t tell me if anything happened but I’m guessing something did, something serious enough that you’d avoid him for days and personal enough that he won’t confront you about it.”

Your face falls, guilt painting it, something Mr. Ri picks up.

“It’s about your feelings, isn’t it?” He asks. “You like him and you can no longer deny it.”

You nod in confirmation, unable to verbalize the words that your heart has been screaming for weeks.

“Is it so hard to admit? Is it so hard to talk about?” The older man asks. “I mean, he doesn’t tell me anything but I’ve known that man his whole life, ___. I’ll bet a lot and say that he feels the same way about you. Why are you both putting all your effort into avoiding each other instead of talking it out?”

“Because you know us, Mr. Ri. We’re the worst at these things,” you shake your head, choosing to disregard his statement that Jungkook may be reciprocating the feelings, knowing you’re not ready to think about it. “And you know this, too. It’s not just about what I feel. It’s about who he is and who I am and what those imply. It’s this complicated situation that I wouldn’t even be in if I just… if I was just strong enough to leave the first time. Or the second time.”

“Hey, you know it wasn’t about that,” he says. “You were always strong. You held on even when things were difficult—”

“Yeah, I just held on and now I’m here, caught in between liking my boss and wanting to stay away from him, from his family,” you groan in frustration.

But you utter the thoughts that you only rarely entertain, only because they’re what held you back all those years ago.

“Am I being selfish, for wanting to leave after everything?” You ask. “They’ve been so good to me. And now that I crossed the line and fell for their son, I want to let everything go.”

“Is that really why you want to resign? Because you like Jungkook?”

“No… it isn’t just about that,” you sigh. “Or it is. A big part of it, but also not. I… you know I’ve been thinking about this since the whole thing with Mrs. Byun happened, and that was six years ago. But then CEO Jeon asked me to help Hoseok and I stayed. And it was even more important for him that I be there for Jungkook. And I am but now what? How can I continue knowing that I like him? And how can I find myself and learn who I am outside of this when I’m here, when this is all I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever given myself to? They’ll always be good to me. I feel selfish by staying, but I also feel that way if I leave.”

“None of that makes you selfish, ___. You always had a reason to leave and you could have, but there was also always gonna be a reason for you to stay,” he says. “But they were their reasons, not yours. Whether you stay despite what you feel for Jungkook or leave to find yourself and seek the happiness you deserve, you’re not being selfish.”

You look at the man whom you’ve known for years and he sees in your eyes a woman who’s just asking for any kind of comfort, of any kind of assurance because no else is around to do that.

“We do what we can at every moment, and we can live with our choices if we know they’re the best one we can make at that time,” he continues. “Whatever it is you decide to do, I hope you do it for you. You’re the only person you have to look out for.”

Right outside the door, Jungkook remains unmoving as he processes everything he’d heard, while you continue to talk inside, completely oblivious to how you’ve rendered him paralyzed.

Jungkook’s meeting with his father ended much sooner than he expected. They merely discussed some happenings with the Board and the lunch that they’ll be hosting on Saturday to welcome some of their family’s long-time friends who are flying in from Europe.

He headed to the support office immediately to tell Mr. Ri that he plans to go home soon but hadn’t known you were there as well. But then again, you and their trusted aide - who’s been his father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and personal assistant for decades - spend a lot of time together, so it didn’t feel off to Jungkook that you’d both be talking. He’s asked the older man to look out for you, too, especially with regards to things that he feels isn’t really his place.

Jungkook didn’t hear much at first, initially deciding to just walk back to his office and call, but once he heard Mr. Ri asking you about resigning, he stopped in his tracks. He felt foolish to be listening in on a conversation he’s not a part of, especially since it’s also because of him.

It should’ve delighted him to hear you say that you like him. Jungkook could’ve only dreamt up that reality and it still feels surreal. You didn’t have a reason to lie and the fact that he isn’t the only one seemingly overwhelmed by his own feelings should be a good thing.

But that also seems to be your reason for wanting to leave, and the thought breaks his heart in ways he can’t explain. You’ve apparently been planning on leaving for years but never got around to do so. If you stayed when his father asked you to, would you do the same if he asked? And he believes that up until last week, your relationship had become the most comfortable it’s ever been. You seem happy here, but why did it also seem like you just wanted to get away?

The thoughts make his head hurt, and while a part of him wishes he hadn’t heard anything, he at least knows you plan on leaving. And that’s something he absolutely cannot bear.

The sounds of the chairs being fixed disrupt his thoughts. When he hears Mr. Ri suggest that you should start packing up, Jungkook quietly walks back to his office and nonchalantly calls the older man to inform him that he plans on staying up late and that he should drop you home already. If Mr. Ri notices the odd tone of his voice, he doesn’t say anything. He merely expresses his confirmation and not long after, Jungkook hears some shuffling outside his closed door.

“Is there anything you need from me before I leave, Mr. Jeon?” You call out, the walls in between both of you feeling higher and thicker than ever before.

He knows that you know that he no longer asks you to do anything at this hour, and he comforts himself by thinking that it’s your way of letting him know that you’re still there. But the thought is short-lived, as he once again plays the conversation he’d overheard in his mind.

“There’s none,” he says pointedly. “You may leave.”

It takes a while but he eventually hears you walk out. Jungkook feels himself breathe for the first time in the last 15 minutes, before he feels suffocated once again.

Maybe pulling away last week when he’d been so close gave you the idea that he didn’t want you at all, and maybe that had affected you more than he expected. Maybe him, creating more distance that you’d initiated, made you think that that’s what he wanted after all that. Perhaps his being a coward in facing his own feelings had pushed you away, too, and if you’re scared of what you feel for him, maybe letting you know that he feels the same way is what will make you stay. He could be the happiness you’re searching for, Jungkook convinces himself. He could be what you want and need.

And he already knows that you’re all that for him. Whatever rules he created for himself and the limits he imposed are all pointless if he doesn’t have you around at the end of it. If his life after all this doesn’t have you in it, there’s no happiness for him. A new job for you could take you anywhere, maybe far away from where he is; it could lead you to someone, someone who isn’t him.

He hates that an overheard conversation about you resigning is what will take for him to finally be honest about what he feels for you. And that potentially losing you by his side is the push he needs to let you know that he wants you, that he wants everything with you, and that he hopes you want the same.

It’s 9:30 PM by the time he enters the car, his head hazy from the two glasses of whiskey he had. Mr. Ri calls him out on another night of him drinking in the office and orders him to get straight to bed like he’d done a few times before when Jungkook had been too stressed and too stubborn to rest. He merely nods though but he follows through, skipping dinner then mindlessly taking a shower before falling asleep in bed after finishing a bottle of beer.

The ringing of the alarm causes Jungkook to grunt and turn off his phone for the peace and quiet that he needs, given the throbbing of his head. But in the silence, he hears the soft knocks on his door, so consistent that he decides to just open it and ask the person on the other side to stop.

But of course, it’s you, and the way you quickly turn your head away reminds him that he’s got nothing but his sweatpants on and he’s too sleepy for anything else to register.

“It’s 7AM, Mr. Jeon. You have an executive meeting at 8,” you tell him, voice so soft and so far away.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his temples to massage the pain away. “I’ll just take a shower. Don’t make breakfast anymore. We leave in 20 minutes.”

“Noted, sir,” you say, then walk back towards the kitchen.

It’s 15 minutes later when his bedroom door opens and he nervously walks over to you. Unable to still remove the image of his half-naked form in your mind, you focus your gaze elsewhere, but he forces it on him when he asks you to fix his necktie, the first time he’d ever done so.

“I was rushing,” he explains.

You nod and head to him, hating how your hands slightly shake at feeling so close to him again. You can feel his breath as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. He probably feels as anxious as you, perhaps no longer used to this routine after you stopped it days ago. But you manage without sparing him a glance, keeping your distance and your eyes focused on anything else but him from the walk down to the car and throughout the ride to work.

It’s difficult for you to look at him, not only because you’re ashamed but because you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Maybe his eyes will tell of his acceptance of this new dynamic. Maybe they’ll reflect anger and frustration at how you’ve disrupted his routine. Or maybe they’ll show sadness - which is what you’re most terrified of - because that’s your weakness. Any time he looks like he needs comfort or he needs you, you know you’d give in, you know you’d want to be there even if you’ve spent the past week staying as far away as possible.

You know you don’t have much time left here. The Arts Center opens over a month from now and you’ve decided to tender your resignation soon after. You know you should be savoring whatever moments you have with him and perhaps that’s what saddens you the most because you don’t know what will come after.

Your happiness isn’t here, and staying to find out if it’s with him isn’t worth it, not when there’s baggage you carry; not when your own past and insecurities weigh you down.

Arriving in the office, you rush to your desk then walk to his room to give him the notes he needs for the meeting. You turn towards him slowly when he calls you, your name in his voice suddenly sounding foreign.

“Can you prepare me lemon ginger tea? Please?”

His voice is soft, as if he feels burdensome for making such a request. You want to give in so badly and ask how he’s feeling. But you stop yourself. It’s not the place nor time.

You accompany his tea with pastries, your own request for him to have breakfast, and you get your own, in response to him instructing you to do so. You see from your periphery that he’s trying to catch your attention as the meeting starts, but with this, you hold back. You don’t want to see what you now know would be sadness in his eyes.

Jungkook has entered the deepest nook of your heart, you realize. You don’t know how you let him get there, and you don’t know how to push him out.

“Another night of drinking, huh?” Hoseok’s unusually somber voice disrupts Jungkook’s thoughts as he zones out during lunch. “The Arts Center getting you that stressed and anxious?”

Jungkook looks at his cousin questioningly.

“I know how you look when you’re tired and this isn’t it,” Hoseok responds. “You’re hungover.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs, not wanting to get into this with a man who would know when he’s lying.

“You should be, Kook. There’s a lot going on these next few weeks and we need you at your best. Your team has worked so hard for the Arts Center,” Hoseok reminds him. “So trust them. And don’t let them down.”

As always, his words hit Jungkook where they should. Whatever’s going on in his personal life - even if it involves you, his assistant - he has to be professional first, and that means making sure that everything is ready for the launch in six weeks. There’s a lot he has to meet and prepare for, and he doesn’t know how you’re able to do it. You may be distancing yourself from him but you’re still able to focus and carry out your tasks accordingly. You’ll be fine without him, he thinks. But if you’ll go on thinking that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, he knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll regret it even more if he doesn’t ask you to stay.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jungkook assures his cousin. “I’ve been out of it but I’ll get my shit together.”

“Good. I don’t have to remind you that there’s a lot riding on this. But ___ is there to help. I’m here, too. You’ve got people who believe in you, okay?” Hoseok smiles, a slice of comfort that Jungkook didn’t know he needed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Jungkook nods and heads back to his office after a full morning has passed, tricking himself into thinking that things will indeed be okay. He just needs to find the courage to face you, finally talk to you, ask you about that night, and tell you what he feels.

But even getting you alone proves to be difficult, as you have your own lunch plans that he didn’t want to interfere with, and your own deadlines that he set that he knows you’ll make sure to meet.

Jungkook gets caught up in the afternoon in another meeting with some of the Board members who came to visit. Biting his lip in frustration, he manages to not lose his mind as he sits through it, merely hoping to the heavens that you haven’t left yet despite the late hour.

He speed walks down the hallway once he gets to his floor and almost panics when he sees your work space empty. But he spots your unfinished cup of coffee and he knows you won’t leave without cleaning up. He briefly sighs in relief when he hears shuffling from inside his room, walking closer to find you standing by his desk, with your back facing the door. You place a folder on his tray for signatures and a bound manual for review, then turn around and jerk in surprise when you see him standing there.

“I didn’t know your meeting had ended, sir,” you say, the formality grating his ears. All he wants is to hear you speak to him casually again, for you to call him by his name once more.

“It just did,” he hums. “I didn’t know if you were still here. I wanted to see you before you could leave.”

His words catch you off-guard but you try to look unaffected.

“Is there anything else you need me to do, sir?” You ask, knowing that he’s past giving you work at this hour on a Friday, but you’re too nervous to think of what else he needs you for.

“No. I…” he stutters. “You, uh, you’ve been avoiding me,” he manages to say, his eyes pleading for you to look at him.

But still, you don’t.

“I’m with you everyday, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your tone cold. “I can’t possibly be avoiding you.”

“You haven’t looked at me all week.”

As if in reflex, you glance at him, then shift your eyes on the couch to your left.

“That doesn’t count,” he says, his voice oozing in desperation for you to just spare him some time, something you’ve never heard before.

So you give in, as you slowly meet his eyes, and you’re reminded why you didn’t want to do it in the first place. They’re so sullen. Tired, it seems, but just lacking in light. They were always so expressive, even when they’re angry, and even more when they’re sad.

“I just…” you start, knowing that with all that’s happened and with all the stress and pressure he has to endure, you can’t be another one in his list to have to try to figure out. You at least owe it to him to be honest.

You look at the door, suddenly conscious of who might wander in your area, and Jungkook takes your cue, closing it once you nod.

“So, why have you been avoiding me?” He asks again, his voice gaining a bit of life now that you’ve given him a chance to talk.

“I was just ashamed,” you admit, looking away as the scene from last week plays in your mind again. “I said things I shouldn’t have and they made you uncomfortable and—”

“How do you know that?” He interjects.

“Because you pulled away!” You say too loudly, lowering your head in embarrassment at the clear frustration you’re expressing. “I thought you wanted to… uh…”

“Kiss you,” he finishes, earning him the slightest of nods from you.

“But you didn’t and I just felt so embarrassed,” you say, your lips quivering now at how much you’re saying, at how much you’re baring yourself to him, unsure if he’ll do the same. “That was completely out of line.”

“You weren’t wrong though,” he almost whispers as he slowly walks towards you. “About what I wanted to do. You seemed to want that, too, but we were out there and I… I was scared that if I’d done anything you weren’t ready for, then I’d push you away. I still did anyway. Because you’ve spent the entire week avoiding me, talking to me formally, not fixing my tie…”

You stop the giggle that you almost let out, but you can’t help your tiny smile as he whines about what you’ve been purposely doing.

“I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you after that,” you explain, knowing there’s so much more to say but that you’ll start with this. “But you avoided me, too,” you suddenly pout.

“What did you expect me to do?” He exclaims. “You did it first! You know I’m not good with these things.”

“Neither am I.”

Jungkook controls himself from kissing the frown off your face and instead, he walks closer. He gets to appreciate you now as he shamelessly eyes your form, the pastel-colored long sleeved blouse tucked inside your white skirt making his heart race.

He spots your shy smile as you try to turn away, and he steps closer, wanting to see more.

“You still aren’t gonna look at me?” He asks, the soft desperation in his voice prompting you to be bold again.

“I can’t. I might lose my mind,” you admit, groaning right after at your own honesty.

“I’d quite like that,” he hums. “I… I was actually losing my mind all week. It didn’t feel right to have you feel so far away. I wanted to fix things but I didn’t know how.”

“That makes both of us,” you sigh, allowing yourself to finally gaze at him in his black suit, the classic look taking your breath away every time. “But I guess it’s the same with me. I didn’t know how badly I wanted you close until you weren’t anymore.”

You hesitatingly reach out your hand, an attempt to let him know that close is what you want him to be, but also to see for yourself if this is real, if he really is just breaths away from you, and if he could be even closer.

“I’m not pulling away this time,” he assures you, his boyish smile sending your mind in a frenzy.

Your fingers graze his chest, the way it quickly rises and falls telling you that his heart is probably racing as fast as yours. You fiddle with the neck of his tie before pulling it to bring him closer. He follows your lead, stepping forward and meeting your eyes, seeming like he doesn’t want his off of you.

“So uh, are you losing your mind now?�� He whispers teasingly.

The way he utters the words with such yearning is a contrast to the shy look on his face. It’s a side of him you’re not ready for, but it’s one you’re thoroughly enjoying. It’s also pushing you to be even more shameless, as you nod and take his hand this time, placing it on your waist so you could feel his touch again. He’s gentle, trailing his fingers up and down your sides.

“I am,” you manage to say, and you wish he could tell by the way you’re panting that his effect on you is way beyond your control now, and that it’s something you want to embrace. You mirror his smile, soft and warm yet full of desire.

He makes his move, placing his hand on your cheek as he eliminates whatever distance is left. And he stands there, just one breath away.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that night, wishing I’d done things differently,” he heaves, his eyes flitting to your lips constantly, “wishing I had been brave enough to do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long.”

You lick your lips in tandem with his, and once you feel him thumb your cheek, it’s all over for you. With a whisper of his name, you hold your breath, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours.

He kisses you deeply, expressing just how much he’s been wanting to do this. You smile as you return his desire, suddenly feeling like you’re floating, as if he’s some dream that you’re able to reach, like he’s that beautiful thing that’s tangible, that you can touch, that you can taste.

You moan once his tongue gains entrance, entangling with yours and dominating you immediately until he’s all you can breathe in. He cups your face, directing it where he wants, while his one hand trails down your back to knead your ass, as if to keep himself steady as he loses himself in you. Your breathing quickens even more as the pleasure rises, and with your fingers palming his chest and gripping his collar, he pushes you against his table.

He cages you and keeps you in place while he devours your lips, and you feel him all over you just as you wanted. You’re hypnotized by his scent, by his warm breath, and by the large hands that now grip your waist and lift you to sit on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is hazy, high on the drug that is his kiss, lust-filled and passionate and relentless. You yearn for him even more the longer you taste him, feel him, and there’s no part of you that wants this to end. Your moans push him to kiss you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess and with a mind that's truly unable to think a single thought outside of this trance-like feeling. His arms now wrap around you, and his hands, seemingly desperate to touch every part of you that he can, trail up and down your back, as if to caress you, as if to say that he won’t stop, that he won’t let you go.

Finally needing air, he removes his lips from yours only to travel to the most sensitive parts of you - on the shell of your ear that his tongue grazes repeatedly, and on your neck that he licks and sucks vigorously. You feel the chills all over your body, and you grind against him to try to satiate that growing need of yours, as you start to feel the dampness in your underwear. His hardening length makes you want everything he can give you, rules and boundaries be damned.

This isn’t like you but you’ve never felt this much pleasure and desire in all your life. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the ecstasy that kissing and feeling him would give. You feel his desperation and desire for you, as he grunts and moans your name, aching to feel more, to do more. You want to live in this moment, and then live it everyday, just take him in and take everything and give him everything.

But you should’ve known that some things are too good to be true. And much as you hope and imagine for things to turn out a certain way in belief that you deserve good things in this world, they don’t. Those don’t happen to people like you. There’s always something underneath it all, as the fantasy shatters like a glass ceiling breaking at his words.

“Stay, ___. Don’t leave,” he hums against you, the tip of his nose gliding against your neck as he takes in your scent. “Please don’t resign. I can’t… I—”

You feel frozen as you process what he’s said. “Wha-what?” You manage to ask, your mind slowly waking up now.

His lips take a pause at devouring your skin and he faces you, his chest heaving and his eyes glassy and pleading as he repeats his words.

“Don’t leave, ___. Don’t resign. Stay with me. I need you next to me.”

“Where is this coming from?” You demand, your heart racing now for a different reason, your anxiety building at how he could’ve known of your plans. You pull away to get a better look at him, with guilt now painting his eyes.

“I… I overheard you and Mr. Ri talking last night,” he admits shamefully. “I didn’t mean to. I was going to just walk away but you talked about leaving and what you feel about me and I just… I froze. I don’t want you to go anywhere, ___. I need you here.”

The silence drags on as you let his words settle, words you thought you wanted to hear. But not like this, you realize. This isn’t how you imagined he’d tell you he wants to be with you.

He attempts to cup your cheek again but you pull yourself back, the rejection breaking him this time.

“You knew I wanted to kiss you last week,” you start, your voice shaking as the pieces fit together. “You knew yet you pulled away. You let a whole week pass with this distance, with no attempt from you to talk to me about it, or to even tell me what you feel but then you learn last night, after listening to a conversation you had no part in, that I like you. And tonight, you kiss me because suddenly you need me? Because you want me to stay next to you?”

“I—” Jungkook starts, unable to say anything as you put it the way you do.

He’s wanted you for so long and always had reasons to keep his distance. He tried to gain the courage to talk to you this week, even as you avoided him, but he didn’t. There was just so much fear, so much worry about what he should do, about you asking him to forget about it, about possibly pushing you away even more. He didn’t intend for things to happen this way but for you to think that he’s only doing this in an attempt to keep you from resigning is all kinds of wrong, even if in hindsight, that’s exactly what it looks like. He could’ve said something earlier, he could’ve told you what he felt, and he would’ve been brave enough if he really wanted to.

“You knew how I felt and you kissed me so I’d stay,” you repeat. “You hate change and me leaving will change everything for you and this… this is how you make sure I don’t.”

Stepping down from the desk, you realize how much you’d lost yourself in him, with your skirt bunched up and your blouse all creased. You fix yourself, suddenly ashamed, and suddenly unsure where you stand. It took so much of you to admit what you felt for him and now it seems that he hadn’t been into you the way that you thought.

You want him with you, but he wants you here, that’s the difference.

“I… want you,” Jungkook says, the words suddenly hard for him to say, as he gets choked up at the distance you’re creating. “I guess I always have. I just couldn’t do anything because I had to be professional and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross. But I couldn’t help it. Those don’t matter to me anymore. Only you do.”

His pleading eyes ask you to believe him, to understand him this time. But your silence and the way you look at him in disappointment tell him it’s not something you’re able to do.

“I never thought you’d feel the same way,” he continues. “And now I know that you do and that just means we can figure it out, right? Staying means we get to be together everyday. We… we get to have this everyday. Don’t you… don’t you want that?”

This is when you realize that much as you want to believe in his sincerity, it’s hard when he thinks of you as a necessity. You make his life easier. You’re his assistant, after all. And that makes you unsure if he only wants you because he needs you, or if they’re just the same thing to him.

He didn’t even ask you why you wanted to leave. Maybe that should tell you enough.

“___, please. I just want to be with you.”

It’s also at this moment when you realize just how much you’ve fallen for him. You’d feared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and that means putting another person’s needs ahead of yours again, just like what you’ve done all these years. Staying would mean that you’d be unable to find yourself outside of all this, and you’ve given up too much not to choose your own happiness this time, even if it means saying goodbye to the person who also makes you happy.

Finding what little strength you have in you, you turn to him. “I don’t want to stay, Jungkook,” you say, your heart breaking as you utter the words, even more when you ask him to forget about everything that happened tonight. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. Not like this. I’m so sorry.”

With your smashed heart in your hands, you do the hard thing and walk out the door, leaving in your wake a man whose broken pieces that you’ve put together all shattered once again.

Walking down the block to get to the bus stop feels like a marathon, as the street feels so long with the heavy burden you’re carrying weighing you down too much. But you manage to get there, only to decide that you’d much rather spend the ride home on your own. You turn to a street to hail a cab then realize once you get in one that it was the spot where Jungkook had seen you, drenched under the rain with a sprained ankle.

He healed parts of you that night, with his quiet assurance that you didn’t have to go through your struggles on your own. You’d hold on to that thought months later, though you’re unsure about now - much as things hurt at this moment, all you want is to be alone.

You get off two stops early and mindlessly walk towards the convenience store, thinking that some snacks for dinner would do. You don’t really feel like eating but your body’s needs are greater than your own desire to eat. Walking down the aisles, you decide you’re only good for some cup noodles tonight. You don’t even deserve boiled eggs that you suddenly craved, nor honey chips, and you definitely don’t deserve dessert after what you allowed to happen earlier.

You stop your movements once you realize you’re sitting on the same spot where you and Jungkook had eaten when he drove you home that night he took you to the park. It had been a terrible evening after that incident with your ex, but Jungkook was the protective one who helped shoulder all the anger that you were too exhausted to feel. He was a reliable and comforting presence, familiar yet new with his warmth. During the occasional moments in the weekend after when your mind would go to that night, you’d think of Jungkook and how he made you feel safe.

It feels too much, so you take your noodles and finish them on the bench outside. You walk home after, letting the crisp evening air envelop you as your mind replays what happened.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to feel someone the way you wanted to feel him, but you suppose that’s why it hurts as much as it does. You wanted him to want you as much as you did, and you were perhaps foolish to think he’d have the same reasons as you. Maybe you were really just stupid for feeling anything in the first place, knowing your place in his world. You’re everything convenient and easy and familiar and despite the week of walking on eggshells around him, you gave in so quickly. He knew what to do when it came to you.

And maybe that’s on you. You allowed yourself to feel so much for a man whose life is so intertwined with yours that it’s hard to know what’s real. Yet you know that despite all that, your desire for him is still too strong. It’s why you had to leave right away.

Another moment of him pleading for you to not resign and you might’ve given in again. Another second of hearing him ask you to be with him and you would’ve believed him - that there was sincerity in all that, that he’d be with you regardless if you stayed in the company or not. Now you’re left with the thought that the convenience was what he wanted, that as he crossed the line, it was all or nothing for him. And that you’d be the weak one, willing to give up what else you could be outside of all this just for him.

Perhaps you’re also asking for too much. He’s used to a life without much consequences to his actions. There’s a lot he doesn’t know, especially what you had to endure and give up to be here and what you want out of life now that you’re old enough to take control of it. Maybe for him, asking you to stay was that declaration and proof of his feelings; doing so took so much out of him already that thinking of what life would be like without being with you everyday was too hard of a reality to accept or work around.

You’re too out of it that you don’t realize that you’ve been standing outside your door. You’re thankful for the weekend at least. You’ll spend half of it in bed, and the other half preparing yourself for how you’ll face him again, and how you’ll finally say goodbye.

You enter and sigh at the warmth inside. Dropping your bag on the floor, you stand by your tiny dining table and take a bite off the apple you find in your fridge. You gaze at your shelf, the one filled with photos of your family and friends and a few more of different sceneries that you took using the disposable camera that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday. It’s another reminder of how much a part of your life he’s become, how, of all the people in the world, he’d been the one to show you that capturing moments is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted.

You often wondered what moments he liked to capture. He doesn’t have photos in his penthouse other than those of structures and buildings that are artistically taken. There are framed old blueprints and historical pieces but nothing of him and the people in his life.

Maybe he doesn’t have good enough memories he wants to keep. For a short moment, you wished that the times he shared with you are ones he’d like to hold onto. But maybe the idea would hurt more - you’ll just be a memory like he would be to you.

You always wanted to keep only good ones of him, but the sight of him rooted in his spot and in shock as you turned him down is far from something you want to remember. He’s something you didn’t know you wanted, but he stands between you and the life you’ve always wished for yourself - one where you get to decide, to be free, to be happy.

He’ll let you go and forget all this, you think to yourself. You’ll be the one who walked away. And he’ll be the one who didn’t run after you.

Jungkook is stunned as he watches your retreating form. The sounds of your heels against the marble floor disappear as he remains unmoving from his spot in his room where he’d kissed you just moments earlier. You felt and tasted just like he imagined, and the moment his lips touched yours, he knew he’d want to keep kissing you over and over again.

It was the first time in a long time that he allowed himself to be honest about how he felt, giddy emotions included. It felt freeing to be able to admit all of that to you after all these months of denying it and walking around eggshells when it came to you. He’d been sure, after last night, that you felt the same way, even more when he felt how your body reacted and how your heart raced, aching for him as much as his heart was yearning for you.

You sounded hypnotizing, too. The way you’d moaned his name ignited something in him that none of the women he’d slept with had ever done before, and he knows it’s because he’d never felt anything genuine for them. They were good for the moment but he knew, especially the instance that he felt you close, that he wanted you for more than that. He wanted the soft touches and the gentle whispers, the longing looks and the intertwined hands. He wanted more than he thought he would, but during his most vulnerable state, he uttered the words he’d been dying to say since last night when he learned of your plans.

He asked you to stay. He told you he needs you, that he wants to be with you.

They sounded like pleas and maybe that’s what they were. From the deepest and coldest nooks of his heart, he was pleading for you to not leave. He’d finally admitted what he’d been so scared to accept, but all his words did were hurt you.

You insisted that all he cared about was the convenience of being together everyday, that you staying meant he’d get to keep all that was familiar. And he doesn’t know what would be taken away from you if you did.

You wanted him, too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough? And wasn’t being with him all that mattered?

Sure, there’d be complications, but those are things he knows you’d both be able to face, they’re things you can navigate around and figure out together because this isn't just a one-time, spur-of-the-moment type of thing. He wants all of you, everything with you, whatever it takes.

He hadn’t realized it until that second he held you in his arms. And then again when you pulled away, looked at him with glassy eyes, and told him you couldn’t stay.

He’d been too hurt to run after you. He didn’t know what to say then. How would he, when you’re the one who couldn’t commit to what you felt by staying around? He felt that betrayal, of that feeling of inadequacy, of his feelings for you not being enough. He bared his emotions to you after being so scared of doing so, and then you crushed his heart just like that, with his broken pieces that you’d just put together, scattered on the floor.

This isn’t like him. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to feel so much for another person, to care for them, to want them in a way that scares him. But you showed him a life where it was possible to open himself up again, to find out what happiness could feel like this time, and in that same breath, you took it all away.

He’s not sure where to go from here. But he decides he’ll think about that tomorrow. Tonight, he just wants to forget. Tonight, he just wants to wallow in his sadness, erase the memory of your touch and the feel of your mouth against his, and let it all go.

Jungkook instructs Mr. Ri to go home. He’ll drive himself, he insists. There’s just no one right now he wants to be around.

He drinks a glass of whiskey for the road and manages to get home in one piece. He settles on the couch as he finishes another half bottle, then chugs down a few cans of beer after. The image of you gets blurry. His mouth numbs and he starts forgetting your taste on his lips, too.

His head falls on the pillow and his hand mindlessly reaches out. There’s no heartbeat that he feels; he’s forgotten how fast yours was already. The sound of your laughter and then of your moans is replaced with a buzzing in his ear as his mind starts to fall away.

The warmth of your body is gone but somehow he feels hot, so hot but he can’t get his clothes off. He struggles a little, his fingers aren’t doing their job so he gives up instead, curls into the corner of the couch, and for the briefest moment, he sees your smile so clearly. And then his mind drifts away completely, taking his confusion and yearning for you along with it.

At least for now, there’s not much of you he remembers. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that’ll all change when he wakes up in the morning and searches for you, knowing you won’t be around to tell him that everything is gonna be okay.

Hoseok massages his temple as his sixth call to his cousin in the last half hour remains unanswered.

“He’s still not picking up,” he groans, the unusual feeling of annoyance bubbling inside him at Jungkook’s irresponsibility.

It’s Saturday morning and some friends of their family flew from Europe last night for lunch at the Jeons’ estate. This gathering was scheduled in time for their grandfather’s death anniversary today, and it’s an event that Mr. Jeon was adamant that Jungkook and Hoseok attend as their respective families’ representatives and as heirs of the company. Those friends had been there when their grandfather built Jeon Corporation from the ground up, and welcoming them is a sign of respect for that friendship and for the memory of the man they’re celebrating today.

Jungkook had informed Mr. Ri that he’ll be driving himself to the estate and promised to be there before 11 AM, as what his father had requested. It’s half past that and he’s still nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been picking up his phone and his friends claim they don’t know where he is. Knowing how important today is, Hoseok wanted to accompany Mr. Ri in going to the younger man’s apartment to pick him up and find out why he’s late. When the elder Jeon asks, which he will, Hoseok would at least have a reason to give. It just better be a good one.

They both arrive at the building and are informed that Jungkook’s cars are still in their respective slots. He’s not in any of the amenities and the guards report that they haven’t seen him since he arrived on his own last night. He may not be a fan of these types of events but Jungkook always shows up. He knows what today means for their family; if not for his father, then at least for his grandfather, a man he respected and looked up to. If, for some reason, he failed to wake up, then he must be in a bad condition, and Hoseok either has to scold his cousin, or cover for him.

With no one answering the door, Mr. Ri uses his access and enters. It’s dark and quiet inside, with the blinds all closed. When he and Hoseok find Jungkook passed out on the couch with an empty whiskey bottle and beer cans on the floor, it’s the same moment that Mr. Ri’s phone rings, and it’s your name that lights up the screen.

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you groggily say. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I had a late night and just woke up. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he sighs, as he watches Hoseok pull Jungkook from his cowering form in an attempt to get him to wake up.

“What do you mean?” You ask, standing from your bed now, suddenly awake.

“I was calling to ask if you knew where Jungkook was. Their family gathering is today and he was supposed to be at his parents’ house 30 minutes ago but he wasn’t. He wasn’t picking up our calls either.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know where he is,” you say softly, the mention of his name reminding you of what transpired last night, the image of Jungkook’s dejected look appearing in your mind. You worry about him though, wondering what time he got home. “Have you found him? Is he okay?”

“Hoseok and I are at his apartment and he’s passed out drunk,” Mr. Ri states, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes and mumbles some words that the older man has to walk closer to hear. “What happened last night, ___? Why is he calling your name? And why is he asking for you to come back?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Jungkook had spent last night drinking his feelings away. You know enough from your time with him that it’s what he does when he’s stressed or mad or frustrated, and then he wakes up the next morning and hits the gym to deal with his hangover. There’s none of that today, apparently, and you stop yourself from instructing Mr. Ri to prepare him some lemon ginger tea.

“What happened last night, ___?” He repeats. “Did you fight?”

“We…” you start, knowing that if there’s anyone who has to know about last night, it’s the man on the other end of the phone. “We, uh… we kissed. And then he asked me not to resign then I pulled away.”

Walking towards the kitchen to hand Hoseok a glass of water, Mr. Ri asks if you’d told Jungkook of your plans, stating that he hadn’t told him about it.

“He overheard us talking last Thursday,” you respond. “He knew what I felt about him, kissed me, then asked me to stay. He said he didn’t want me to go, that he wanted to be with me, and that we could be together everyday. It didn’t feel right,” you continue, your voice shaking now as you recall the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. We were supposed to talk about it. He wasn’t supposed to use my feelings against me like that.”

“Did you tell him why you’re planning on leaving?”

“No… He just went on about needing me to be with him and I… I couldn’t bear it,” you say, feeling the tears dance around your eyes. “You told me that I could always leave but even then, I’d always have a reason to stay but it would be their reason, not mine. I finally built the courage to decide on this because you know I need this. I don’t want him to be my reason this time. Or else I’ll never be able to let all of it go.”

“I know,” Mr. Ri sighs, knowing more than anyone what you mean.

He’ll never be brave like you, but he understands that burden, that desire to just be free; he knows what it’s like to be held back even if it’s your own decision. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always think you have a debt to be paid. He knows he does, but he’ll always believe that you don’t. Surviving was always enough.

“But I think he has to know, ___,” he continues. “He wouldn’t let himself go through this kind of suffering if you don’t mean that much to him. You have to tell him the truth. And I mean everything. You owe it to yourself, too. I know he means a lot to you but you can’t move forward in any way, with or without him, if you’ll just keep him in the dark.”

You let Mr. Ri’s words settle. You told yourself the moment you entered the company that you won’t let your past define you, including your relationship with this family. You’ll work hard and everyone else will know you for that, and not for any other reason. You also knew that you’d spend every second of being here trying to prove to yourself that you’re capable, despite the irony that you were the one defining your time here based on your past that you just somehow couldn’t run away from.

You weren’t supposed to feel anything for Jungkook. You could’ve gone on with your plan of resigning without feeling bad that you were leaving him behind. And even in that alternative reality where he’d ask you to stay, it would’ve been easy to say no. What makes this difficult is that you started to care. You got scared that if he asked you, you would stay. And now that he did, you have to be stronger than your desire to be with him.

Leaving would be hard, but staying would be much harder.

You wish it was easy to make him understand. But you suppose without him knowing the truth, he wouldn’t be able to.

So you give Mr. Ri permission.

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say. “You would. Make him understand. Maybe he’ll let me go. Maybe he’ll still come after me. And maybe he’ll forgive me, too.”

Mr. Ri hums and drops the call. He returns to the living room where Jungkook is now seated upright on the couch, downing his second glass of water and taking medicine to deal with the hangover. The blinds are now up, causing him to squint his eyes. At least he looks alive now.

“That was ___,” Mr. Ri says. “She was wondering how you were.”

“Did you tell her I look terrible?”Jungkook asks bitterly.

“I did. She also told me what happened.”

“What… happened?” Hoseok wonders. “Did you have a big fight?”

Knowing he has no way out of this, Jungkook tells the truth. “We, uh, we kissed,” he answers, earning him a gasp from his cousin, who clarifies that while he’s not that surprised, he’s curious as to why both of you aren’t together right now.

“___ plans on resigning. He asked her not to,” Mr. Ri answers. “But you… you have to let her go, Jungkook. She needs to learn who she is and what she can do without anything holding her back.”

“If that’s her reason, then she has to know that she can keep learning who she is and what she can do here, with me,” Jungkook insists, slowly gaining clarity, as all the words he couldn’t say last night suddenly come out so easily. “There’s so much she can do. If what we feel for each other is the issue and that means she can’t directly work for me, then there are other departments where she’d fit well in. This isn’t just about convenience for me. I want to see her everyday but having her around means I get to make sure she’s taken care of, that she’s treated well.”

“And then what? She’ll feel indebted to you because of that?” Mr. Ri counters. “This is more than just developing her skills or building her career, Jungkook. This is about being someone outside of this company. It’s about doing something without feeling like she constantly has to prove that she deserves what she has.”

“And she does. Who does she have to prove anything to? We’re beyond that. Everyone knows she’s capable.”

“She has to prove it to herself. It may be hard for you to understand but she… she won’t get to accept all that she is until she’s ridden herself of the burden she carries. For as long as she works for your family, she’ll always feel it.”

The words feel a little too personal, Jungkook thinks, as Mr. Ri talks about your insecurities as if he’d seen you live them, and perhaps he has. The older man witnessed those first few turbulent weeks, and having known you since you started working here through the CEO, perhaps Mr. Ri had seen how your spirit broke a little because of Jungkook.

But still, something about the way Mr. Ri looks sullenly at him says that there’s more to what the older man had seen, as if he himself is pleading for Jungkook to let you go this way, as if the care runs deep and the words carry so much more emotion.

“She needs this, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri continues. “She’s planned on leaving a few times before but her gratitude towards your family always pulled her back. If you really care about her, you won’t let that happen this time. If you want to be with her, you’ll have to do it without her being here. Regardless of what she feels for you, she needs this more. You can let her go without really letting her go, you have to know that.”

It all feels too much and Jungkook’s mind is filled with so many questions. What do you owe his family? How does proving yourself have anything to do with leaving the company? How does he fit into all this? What do you need time away for? And how can he be with you at the end of it? Would you still want that, given that he didn’t even ask you why?

“How are you sure that’s what she needs?” Jungkook asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

“I’ve known her for 20 years, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I know it’s what she believes.”

Jungkook may still be dealing with a hangover, but he knows his ears didn’t betray him. Twenty years, that’s how long you’ve known the man he trusts with his life, the man his father trusts with his family’s life.

The tale is an open secret. Ri Byung-hun was a kid who grew up in the streets. He tried to steal from Jungkook’s grandfather, whose construction business then was slowly taking off. The elder man took pity on the young teen and sent him to school, and Byung-hun showed his gratitude by working for the family, eventually becoming Jungkook’s father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and closest confidant all in one. The loyalty goes both ways, and it’s stood the test of time.

Jungkook doesn’t know all the details but he knows enough. What he doesn’t know is who you are in Mr. Ri’s life, and why Jungkook hadn’t heard of you before.

“How do you know ___?” Jungkook finally manages to ask. “Who is she to you?”

“I know ___ because of her mother. And over 20 years ago, Cho Hye-soo was your father’s assistant.”

“She— what?”

Jungkook can’t hide his shock, and neither can Hoseok, who looks just as surprised about the truth as he is. His cousin would’ve been in his early teens at that time, and as it was when it came to their family’s children, training to become company heirs starts early, but they don’t get immersed until during their late teenage years.

“I… I know Mrs. Cho,” Hoseok says. “I’ve met her several times but I… I never knew. They never said anything.”

“It wasn’t something they wanted people to know,” Mr. Ri explains. “Other than both of your parents, I’m the only other person who does. Too much time has passed for people to make the connection. It was just better that no one knew.”

“What else did they not want people to know?” Jungkook asks. “What did ___ and her mom do? What… what do they owe our family?”

The elder man knew that at some point, Jungkook was going to have to learn the truth. He just didn’t think it would have to be under these conditions, and that he’d be the one telling the young man about how your lives are intertwined, that whatever pain you both carried growing up, those would always lead you back to each other.

“Your father and Hye-soo were no different to how you and ___ are,” Mr. Ri starts. “He’d just been appointed President and he was under a lot of pressure - from your grandfather, the Board, the rest of your family… He was always stressed and it didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, just like you. That obviously affected your family, but it also affected those who worked for him, especially Hye-soo, who felt that she had a lot to prove.”

She didn’t have a Seoul education but she was smart and resourceful, incredibly hardworking and devoted, something you inherited from her, the elder man shares. The similarities are striking, and Jungkook braces himself, hoping that they end there.

“She always had to work overtime, including weekends, and that took a lot of time away from being with ___. Hye-soo would leave her daughter in the library where her friend worked, and that seemed to be enough. But of course, it wasn’t easy, especially with a partner who lost his job and started drinking to cope.”

As Mr. Ri continues, Jungkook starts to fear something else, and so he asks.

“Did… did he hurt them?”

“He yelled a lot,” Mr. Ri answers. “I’d hear it sometimes during breaks when she’s on the phone with him and it crushed me every time. Hye-soo wouldn’t say much, just that he was a good guy who just didn’t know how to deal with hardships. She never justified his actions until of course, that piece of shit started hitting her.”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words, unable to imagine growing up in a household like that - feeling afraid, unsafe, and unfree.

“Hye-soo assured me that Kang-ho never hurt ___. She was good at that, at protecting her child. One time, she was called to work on a Saturday and that didn’t go well with him, but she… she always puts her daughter first, and that meant work would always be her priority because it’s what pays the bills and what sends her to school,” Mr. Ri narrates, his eyes growing more dejected by the second as he recalls those times.

“She was rushing and couldn’t properly conceal the bruise on her face. She was worried that’s why she took ___ with her. Hye-soo kept crying as your father asked her what happened. She apologized for being late and for bringing her daughter to work, and she asked to stay in the office for the night until she figured out where they could go. I had never seen her break down like that,” he says, his voice shaking now. “And I won’t forget how scared ___ looked. She was just 10 years old then, clinging to her mother and not wanting to let her go. We were all strangers to her but somehow, she knew that we were there to protect them.”

The silence goes on, as both men take in Mr. Ri’s words, but it’s Hoseok who asks what happened after, and eventually, what got you here.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon didn’t hesitate to help,” the older man shares. “They had Hye-soo and ___ stay at the staff house in their estate for a few nights until they got a new place to stay. I helped them get their stuff after Kang-ho figured out what was happening and ran. The police had a warrant for his arrest but they couldn’t find him for days.”

Turning to Jungkook, he adds, “your parents paid for all the legal and medical fees. Because Kang-ho knew they were helping, you all had to go away until he was found. Hye-soo and ___ went to Busan where he couldn’t trace them; your parents stayed in one of their houses in Gwangju while you and your brother were in Gwacheon.” Mr. Ri sighs at the memory as he recalls those days. “The reason why you were in that cabin was so they could protect you. I know you held a grudge against them for years because you thought they just left you there but they couldn’t stay with you, Jungkook. You were all in danger and they had to keep you and Jeong-sik safe.”

Jungkook looks back at that night when everything changed for him. Things already weren’t going well with his brother; the three-year gap and the way they were always compared kept them from getting along. His parents knew that, yet they still left him with Jeong-sik, who abandoned him in the woods when they played hide-and-seek. That’s where Jungkook was left alone, lost and scared under the rain, the thunder roaring as he yelled for someone to come. He’s always lived with that fear, always carried that memory of anger and blame within him that transformed into a habit of just pushing people away, of keeping them out because that was better to accept than the knowledge that people he trusted left him on his own.

But there’s a reason, he learns now, one that his parents kept from him to protect you and your mother, too. It’s all too much, but he thinks now that maybe there’s a reason why you were so patient with him, why you didn’t judge him that night at the guest house, why you somehow understood what he was so scared of. He doesn’t know if you know that the night at the cabin had anything to do with what you and your mother went through, but regardless, maybe that’s why he always felt so strongly about you. The connection he was yearning for was always there, it’s tied to something, and he realizes it’s tied to your shared past.

“Did the police find the man?” Jungkook asks now, his headache somehow worsening from all the things he’s learning. But he just wants to know that you weren’t even more hurt, that there was a way that his parents kept you safe.

“I did,” Mr. Ri responds. “I still had contact with people in the streets, and I left Gwacheon once I got a call that they knew where he was staying. I hunted him down and I handed him over… with a bloodied face and a few broken bones. They charged him for domestic violence and a few other crimes, including drug possession that would keep him in prison for years, long enough for Hye-soo and ___ to recover.”

“And what about you? Were you charged?” Jungkook wonders.

“No, I claimed self-defense and I—”

“But it wasn’t, was it?” Jungkook counters, knowing there’s more to what Mr. Ri is saying.

“It wasn’t,” the old man admits, turning away as he says the words. “I could’ve done more but I… I couldn’t lose myself to the anger even if it was all I felt. I knew Hye-soo wouldn’t have forgiven me if I did.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” Jungkook says, dawning on him now that everything Mr. Ri had done was so he could protect your mother and you. He realizes that all the times that the elder man looked out for you was because he was looking out for someone he truly cared about, someone who mattered the most to the person who mattered the most to him.

“I did,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I still do.”

Jungkook recalls the night during the team building and the elder man’s words, about the woman he’d loved for so long, and that moving on from her meant expending all that love to those he cares about, and now Jungkook knows that he was referring to you.

“Did she know? And did she love you back?”

“She… she asked me to move to Busan with her and ___,” Mr. Ri answers, his eyes faraway as memories of that conversation come rushing back, how he’d wanted to just run away and build a life he never thought he could have with the woman he’d fallen so hard for, but how he had to make the hardest decision then, knowing it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook wonders.

“I owe everything I have to your family, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri explains. “They gave me a second chance. Your grandfather got me off the streets, your father taught me everything I know, they… they had my records cleaned. They did it when I was a kid and they did it again when I was an adult. The only way I could ever pay them back was through my loyalty. I couldn’t leave, not after everything they’ve done for me.”

“But you loved her. She was your second chance,” Jungkook argues.

“And that love caused me to commit a crime I shouldn’t have. I was going to pay for it one way or another,” Mr. Ri responds. “That’s how I chose to do it, by letting her go, knowing that I’d be able to look after her and ___ better that way. Your father would protect me, and I would protect them. That’s… that’s how things go.”

It’s a tragic love story, Jungkook thinks. Two people who feel so much having to let each other go, their own pasts pushing them towards opposite directions. Decisions were made and that pulled them apart. He supposes that reciprocated feelings aren’t always enough.

“What happened after that?” Hoseok asks now, wanting to know as well how you and your mother managed, and if there’s any more danger that you face.

“They stayed in Busan for a few years. They only returned to Daegu after they learned that Kang-ho died in prison after acquiring some respiratory disease,” Mr. Ri replies. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon helped with the move, too. They had me check on Hye-soo and ___ almost every month, just to make sure they were doing well. It was hard, of course. Hye-soo wasn’t earning the same as she was so she took another job just to keep ___ in a good school. Mr. Jeon knew that, so he kept offering to pay for her education but Hye-soo always turned him down. That continued until she got to college, and knowing that her mom won’t accept help again, ___ was the one who decided to take the offer. They paid for her tuition, and she eventually got an internship in the company. She took the job offer, too, and she’s just been working hard ever since, thinking that she has everything to prove.”

“Why does my father think he can buy people’s loyalty just like that?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “It traps people… it gives them no option.”

“I know it may seem that way but your father knows how important loyalty is, and it’s something that he gives, too. He trusts me just as much I trust him,” Mr. Ri defends. “But when it comes to Hye-soo and ___, it isn’t about loyalty but guilt. He blames himself for what happened to them. Even if it was all Kang-ho’s fault, your father always believed that if he hadn’t been so demanding, things wouldn’t have escalated. It was all the overtime, all the unfair requests that took Hye-soo’s time from her partner, from her daughter. He carries that guilt with him and how he treated her. In a way, I think that was his wake-up call. Work stopped consuming him after. He became considerate of his staff, asking about their families and how they’re doing. He tried to make it up to you and your brother but that seemed to be the hardest thing for him; he didn’t know how to get your trust back.”

“But wasnt ___ choosing to work here about loyalty? She stayed every time he asked her to. She wouldn’t have if she felt indebted to our family,” Jungkook remarks, not wanting to delve into his own relationship with his father.

“She wanted to repay them just so her mom would stop carrying that burden,” Mr. Ri says. “They were able to get away and build a new life where they were safe because of your parents and for ___, that always meant everything. She planned to work for them, but even a part of her felt that all the opportunities she was given was out of kindness. She always felt she didn’t deserve it but your parents also think they can’t ever make it up to her and her mother enough.”

At the silence, he continues. “People are complicated that way, I guess. We all have our own burdens to carry, our own past to deal with, our own actions to make peace with and accept. We make decisions based on what we think is best and just hope we don’t regret them in the future. But we also make them as a way to take control of our own lives. Even if I regret letting Hye-soo go, I at least did it knowing that I’ll either have another chance at being with her, or that someone else will. And someone did, and I know for a fact that he loves her and ___ with all of him.”

“In that sense, maybe resigning is ___’s way of taking control of her life this time, don’t you think?” Hoseok turns to Jungkook, understanding where you’re coming from now, as he knows the feeling of not having to constantly prove yourself to others. “She finally wants to let that burden go, to live as she wishes without feeling like she doesn’t deserve what she has, even if it means not being next to you the way she wants to. If you make her stay, how do you think she can move on from all this? How can you be sure she’s happy?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, knowing it’s not enough to process everything he’s learned this morning. There’s that past he didn’t know he shared with you, there’s his relationship with his father that he doesn’t know how to mend, there’s his feelings for you, one that’s still so strong and inescapable.

And then there’s the thought that you’d known everything all along. You’ve been patient with him, you've been kind and understanding. Was that all because you felt like you had to? Because he’s the son of the people you feel that you owe a lot to?

It’s not that Jungkook doubts your feelings for him, but he wonders if you do. Now that you’re able to make that decision to leave, what if walking away from his family also means you realize that your feelings are tied to that indebtedness, too? How real was it for you? And after you find yourself outside of all this, would you still want him?

The thoughts make his heart break, and this tells him that after knowing everything, he still can’t deny what he feels about you. He still wants you just as much. Maybe the familiarity he always felt was because you are familiar. Maybe the connection was because of a painful past you both share, of a kind of pain you both understand. Maybe the intensity of feelings is a remnant from his childhood, one that’s tied to yours in a serendipitous way.

He’d like to think that even without knowing, you held out for him. You could’ve chosen to leave anytime before he came but you didn’t, and your paths crossed this way and he convinces himself that you were always meant to meet each other, that you were always meant to make up for how intertwined and unfortunate your lives are. You never met then but this time, when you did, it meant so much more. He could only hope that it’s something you hold onto as well, and that when you decide to finally walk away, it doesn’t mean you walk away from him completely, too.

“Kook, I know there’s a lot to think about but you have to get going,” Hoseok disrupts his thoughts. “Your father still wants us at that lunch. I know grandfather would, too.”

“You should go ahead, Hoseok,” Mr. Ri says. “Just make an excuse to your uncle and say I’m helping Jungkook fix up. We’ll head there right away.”

“No, tell him that I know,” Jungkook insists. “If… if he’s always wanted to mend our relationship, he and I have to start being honest with each other.”

“I will,” Hoseok says as he stands up to leave. “Get your head together, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jungkook massages his temples, knowing that he doesn’t have time to get a workout in and rid himself of this terrible hangover. But he tries, as he takes a warm shower and asks Mr. Ri to prepare him a cup of lemon ginger tea and get some ginseng jelly for the ride.

The trip to his parents’ estate starts off quiet, but the thoughts in his head are so loud that the older man asks what else is bothering him.

“How was her time in Busan?” Jungkook asks.

“It was good. She was a shy kid but she found good people she trusted and that meant everything,” Mr. Ri answers. “I visited them often, even when they returned to Daegu. But I stopped once ___ moved back to Seoul after college. I’d ask her about her mother every now and then. It was nice to hear how well they’re doing, and how happy they are with their new family. Min-woo’s a good man and his daughters love Hye-soo and ___ so much. It turned out well for them. When I think about that, it’s really hard not to justify the decisions I made.”

“Will you make them again? If given the chance?”

“If I still think it’s what’s best then, then I would. Sometimes we make decisions because of the other person, not exactly for ourselves. Sometimes that’s how we realize just how much we love them, you know? When their happiness trumps our own.”

Jungkook merely hums. While he doesn’t think he’s at that point with you, he cares enough to want you to have that chance to find your happiness, in whatever form that may be. And if leaving the company is what it takes, then he knows you deserve that and more. It doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you can search for it while being with him, but perhaps it’s better if you find your way back to him instead. He’ll at least know you chose him, and not because you felt like you owed it to him to stay.

They make it to his parents’ estate over an hour late. The guests have arrived and Jungkook greets them before finding his father. When their eyes meet, there’s a look of sadness in the elder man’s eyes. Perhaps it’s understanding; maybe it’s an apology.

His mother gives him a long and tight hug, one that he savors for the first time in a long while. He remained distant from his parents after he decided to pursue further studies and then work in their office abroad. It’s a relationship he’s still navigating. While his mother has always been present and affectionate, Jungkook is the one who stopped reciprocating. It just seemed easier that way, but he realizes that he’s missed her warmth after taking it for granted all these years.

The lunch gathering lasts for a few hours. Jungkook tries to pay attention to the conversations since engaging requires too much from him, especially after the morning he’s had. But his father doesn’t reprimand him this time, and for that, he’s thankful. Hoseok keeps him on his toes though, but Jungkook’s mind constantly wanders towards you. He wonders how you got home last night, if you managed to get some rest, and if you’re spending your time being angry at him or if, by any chance, you’re missing him like he’s missing you.

It’s 5 PM by the time the last guest leaves, and with Hoseok and A-yeong needing to attend a dinner party, Jungkook is left to speak with his parents alone.

“I heard you know the truth now,” his father says as he sits across from Jungkook in the garden. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“Did you intend for me not to know and find out from someone else?” Jungkook asks.

“___ applied to the company with the intention of contributing in a small way,” his father says. “She made it without any say from me and that’s a testament to her skills and capabilities. When we met after her first day, she asked that she not be treated any differently, and I agreed. I stayed true to my word and I kept my distance, but when I heard about how Mrs. Byun treated her, I knew I couldn’t just stand back. I encouraged her to apply for the EA position, knowing that she would be treated well. And with that, she asked me not to say who she is - not to Hoseok, and especially not to you. That’s not how she wants to be known. And I always respected her request.”

“Does it make any difference, son?” His mother asks. “Does knowing who she is to our family change the way you see her?”

“No, but it makes me wonder how she’d seen me all this time,” Jungkook says. “She put up with me despite how I treated her. She was kind even if I was distant. She… she let me open myself up and that’s… that’s why I like her. That's why I asked her to be with me.”

The surprise on his parents’ faces is immediate, but they stay calm, and it’s what prompts him to continue.

“I just hate to think that she suffered all that time because she still felt like she owed us. If you asked her to stay and help me, she wouldn’t have been able to turn you down. And what if… she’s confused her feelings for me for just… gratitude towards you?”

“Oh, my dear son,” his mother sighs, taking his hand as a form of comfort. “We are so sorry that all this has caused you to doubt her sincerity but if there’s one thing we know about ___ is that she’s genuine, and if you felt cared for by her, then she meant all that.”

“Yes, I did ask her to help you, because I knew that if there was someone who could get through to you, it would be her,” his father says this time.

“So you took advantage of her? Because you knew she’d do what you’d ask,” Jungkook huffs.

“I did that because I knew that she would care, that she would understand. Thinking about it now, perhaps I asked for too much,” the elder man shakes his head. “She’s a lot like her mother, and I’ve come to realize that you’re a lot like me. I needed someone like Hye-soo and somehow I just knew that you needed someone like ___. Both of you opening up and finding comfort in each other just happened, I suppose, and that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

“I don’t know. Because now, she doubts what I feel and I’m not sure about what she feels, too,” Jungkook admits, letting his own insecurities get the better of him. He hates that he’s started to doubt you as well.

“If it matters, I’ve seen how she is with you. She cares about you, she worries about you. And the way you respond to her just means that your heart feels her sincerity, too,” his father responds. “Don’t let anger or fear taint that for you.”

“Aren’t you mad about what happened?” Jungkook wonders. “She’s my assistant and I ended up crossing a line. I kissed her. In my office.”

“Perhaps I should be,” his father hums. “But with her planning on resigning, I suppose you’re already feeling a lot of emotions about that. I don’t want to add anymore. You’re an adult and you know that your actions have consequences. You just have to deal with them now. And don’t ever do that again.”

There’s no anger in his father’s words. In fact, there’s comfort that Jungkook has never heard before. It suspends his worries only for a short moment, as he’s reminded that you indeed plan on leaving. When that is, he doesn’t know. But he’s gonna have to start dealing with your loss just as he needs to deal with his feelings for you. It’s all too complicated; getting together despite what you both feel isn’t that simple. Your happiness comes first. He knows he cares so much that it’s what he wants you to focus on.

“Letting her go now doesn’t mean you have to let her go for good,” his mother tells him. “She’ll choose you if that’s what her heart says. And at least then, you’ll know for sure that she still wants you after everything.”

Jungkook’s parents’ words echo in his mind for the rest of Saturday that he spends in his living room, choosing wine as his companion for the evening. There’s no intention of getting hammered unlike the night before though. The drink calms him down and allows him to have proper sleep this time. He spends the most of his Sunday in bed, thinking about you, then attempting to remove you from his mind.

Not wanting to deal with any more tension, he instructs Mr. Ri that Monday to just drive you straight to the office. Jungkook arrives and sees you stand up to greet him as he walks through the hallway, and he responds with a nod as his own greeting before heading straight to his room.

There’s that feeling again - of missing you, of hoping he could fix things but not knowing how, of wanting to ask you to stay but knowing he has to let you go, and of wishing that when he does, you’ll find your way back to him again. He shakes off the thoughts during that short walk to his desk, feeling himself weaken with every moment that he spends far away from you.

Jungkook takes his seat and sighs as another day starts without his usual routine. Knowing he has no other choice, he pushes on. From his periphery, he sees you glancing at him through the window, and a part of him wishes it’s your attempt at seeing if you could speak with him, maybe ask if you could talk about what happened later on or about what he now knows about you. Or anything, really. He just wants to hear your voice again. Hopefully see your smile. Despite all his doubts about you, the emptiness he feels tells him that nothing’s changed - what he feels for you is real, and he might not know what’ll happen next, but he at least knows that what he wants is to be with you; he hopes he’ll figure out how to do that with you.

He sees you glance at him again and it sparks a bit of hope. That is, until he spots the envelope on his desk, and inside it, your resignation letter.

He tries to act unaffected as he reads what you’ve written. It’s straight to the point, as you narrate your journey in the company, having started as an intern and then working in logistics before finding your footing as the Vice President’s assistant. You list the skills you’ve developed and other things you’ve learned but that you think it’s time to venture into something new and different, noting how you’ll take all your experiences with you in this new stage of your life.

You thank him for his guidance, and he almost breaks towards the end when you mention the Arts Center. You apologize for leaving before its completion, but you’re thankful because it allowed you to appreciate the beauty of things, that it made you understand the value of meaning and connection, and that his passion for it pushed you to find something that you want to be passionate about, too. You’ve given him something, and now he knows that in his own way, he’s given something to you, too.

You type away on your desktop while not-so-discreetly peeking into Jungkook’s office to see his reaction to your letter. Your plan was to resign after the Arts Center was launched, knowing how big of a project it is that needs all of Jungkook’s attention. He can’t be distracted, and a part of you scolds yourself for being selfish about deciding to do this now.

But you also knew that you couldn’t delay it any longer. After what happened last Friday, you didn’t know how you could face him again, especially now that he knows everything. It didn’t feel right to continue on, not just because of your feelings but because you crossed a line - you kissed and did all that in his office. That itself is unacceptable; it almost feels like a betrayal to his family, whom you’ll have to painfully say goodbye to as well.

Mr. Ri visited you yesterday to give you comfort, knowing that you’d choose to go through this on your own again. Jungkook was devastated but was worried about you more than anything, you were told, and somehow that made the decision less difficult but still painful to make. You don’t know if he’ll ever truly understand, especially if finding yourself means letting him go despite the happiness he gives you.

It’s not everyday you find someone you feel so much for, but then again, human beings are complicated - they can want something and be scared of it at the same time; they can have the chance to have it but doubt it all the same. What you feel for him should be enough to dispel your worries about his sincerity but there’s too much going on in your mind at this point. Right now, you just want to get away. With him learning the truth, you suppose he needs time to process all that as well.

You’ll miss him though. You’ll miss everything about this place. But you’ll miss him the most.

Your phone ringing disrupts your thoughts, and your heart races when you hear Jungkook’s voice on the other end.

“Ms. Cho, please come to my office.”

You calm your nerves and find the strength to get off your seat and walk towards him. He’d been expressionless the whole time, and you wonder if he’ll hold off your resignation because it’s terrible timing. Either way, you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

But clearly, you didn’t do so enough, as you’re still left speechless when he holds out an envelope for you to take, the sight of his hands that once held you close breaking your heart again.

“I accept your resignation,” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “You have a month until your last day but you have two weeks worth of vacation and I urge you to take them before you leave.”

“Thank you, sir,” you manage to say, your voice soft and shaking compared to his. “I… I will.”

“And this is your recommendation letter,” he says, handing you another envelope. “You’ve shown exceptional skills throughout your tenure here, Ms. Cho. Everyone you’ve worked with says so, and I’ve seen that firsthand. I’m sure that wherever you decide to work after this, you’ll be another great asset. And my family wishes you good luck in your future endeavors. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

The words are too formal, too professional for your liking, and this breaks your heart even more. But you suppose there’s no other way to do it. You’re the one leaving; you’re the one who pulled away. After everything that’s happened, you’re the one who walked out to find your happiness when Jungkook needed you the most, and you could only hope that one day, he’ll forgive you for it. That he’ll forgive you for all of it.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in thanks. “I’ve said it all in my letter but once again, I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”

You bravely look him in the eyes as he seems to have found the courage to look at you, and the longer you do, the harder it all becomes.

“Shall I commence the process of finding my replacement, sir?” You ask.

“There is no need,” he replies. “I’ve received approval from my father to have Lucas come in as my assistant effective immediately. He’s scheduled to arrive this week, so you can spend the remaining time you have here turning over everything to him. I will announce your resignation to the team before then. You can also begin the offboarding process with HR so that there are no delays.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon,” you say, the light in your eyes dimming as each second passes by.

“Is there anything else I could do to help you, Ms. Cho?”

There’s a prolonged moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, his eyes tinged with a kind of sadness that you perhaps mirror, with words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d say that he’s okay, that he forgives you, and that he hopes it didn’t have to be this way.

He wishes you’d say that you’re sorry for leaving him, that you’ll be thinking about him, and that you hope you’ll find your way back to him again.

You want to tell him that he’s all you could think about, that you’ll miss him everyday, that you’ll search for beautiful things that are tangible like you said you would, and hope they would lead you back to him.

He wants to say that he’ll look for you everywhere, that he’ll hold onto every good memory you have together, that he hopes you find whatever makes you happy, and that he’ll wait for you until you realize that it could be him.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and head out the door.

You take your seat and will yourself not to cry. You can’t help it though, even as you press your palms against your ears to drown out the sounds of your own sadness, of your heart’s call of his name even if you’re the one walking away.

You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place.

Maybe you weren’t meant to have him at all.

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fandomxo00 · 19 days

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Ok but imagine this: having four kids with logan au

Overhearing Logan helping your son when he's struggling

note: I think this will be a continuous imagine with just little situations with the family it will have the 'having four kids with logan au' tag

Theo, was your oldest son, he was now 15, he looked a lot like Logan, though he had your eyes and you couldn't believe that your baby not your baby anymore. He'd been extra emotional lately, taking his anger out on you, Logan, and his younger siblings.

Logan knew he had to prepare for this if he had children, his anger issues would most likely pass on. But he also knew that the anger was misdirected, that there was something wrong and he was asking for help. So, when Theo marched into the house, throwing his bag down, heading downstairs to his room and slamming the door shut. His younger brother, Parker, sighed looking over at his brother before going into a kitchen for his afternoon snack. You went after him, going down and knocking on his door.

"Leave me alone!"

"Baby-." You tried.

"I don't want to talk to you." Theo spat.

"Well I'm here if you do, alright?" You didn't hear anything from the other side, your heart breaking a bit as you turned to see your youngest, Sophie, she was three and she moved over to you. She had the biggest heart, and she was really close with Theo.

"Is Teo sad?" She asked, pointing at the door from the top of the stairs.

"He just needs some alone time, baby."

You brought Sophie to the living room, setting her up at her dollhouse and a snack, she knew to keep her snack at the top of her doll house so your dog, Charlie, wouldn't be able to reach it.

Your middle child, Valley, would be getting picked up by Logan on his way home from work. She always stayed after school to spend time with her friends, or going home to play with them. Some days you picked her up to bring her friend's home or if she had low energy. But she was the most social child, but you also understood her on a different level as she struggled with social cues or 'saying the right thing'. She found her group though; she always did and you'd always be there to guide her through it. Hopefully she can do the same for Sophie, though you would always be there for her too.

She rushed through the door and Logan stepped in after her, taking off his boots before following behind her. "Hey baby." He grinned, coming over to and wrapping an arm around you to pull you and kiss your lips.

"Hey, can you go check on Theo?" You pressed, your eyes scanning his, he understood the look in your eyes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. He goes over to Sophie, before crouching as she talked him about the doll in her hand, he kisses her head before standing up. As he started towards Theo's room, Parker skidded in front of his dad and started going on about soccer practice tonight. Logan volunteered to coach for his team.

"Hey, bud, we can talk about this on the way to soccer alright?" Logan started as Parker went on to talk, a look of defeat came over your son's face. Then Logan clapped him on the shoulder and looked down into his eyes, "Maybe we'll practice your drill, tonight."

"Really?" Parker's eyes lit up, as he smiled over at his dad. Your chest ached a bit as you knew Logan never wanted any of his kids to feel left out or less loved than another. You knew you had the same worry, it's the reason why you decide four kids rather than five. Logan didn't want more than three and Sophie was a very wanted oops. It just seemed like the missing piece of the puzzle. So even though your fantasies were filled with more children, now you couldn't imagine having any more.

Parker came into the living room, getting his video games set up as he rested on the couch. You went downstairs to start on laundry and also overhear little parts of the conversation Logan and Theo were having. You knew that Logan would fill you in later but your worry sadly outweighed privacy. It wasn't something you were proud of, and you were working on it.

"Theo, you're our baby, you are the one who truly started this family, I love you with all of my heart, you are strong, and you're going to live a happy long life. You kids are everything to me and your mom, something I'll never know how to truly express. I know you don't wanna upset mom but she'd understand what your going through."

"I-I just don't know why I feel this way." Theo cried.

"Your mom and I have always struggled with mental illness, and we aren't here for a lack of trying. All you have to do is try, alright?"

"Okay."

"How about we go for a walk in the morning?"

"That sounds good." Theo murmured, before their voices faded, as you started the dryer before grabbing a laundry basket and walking up the stairs just as Theo's door opened and Logan walked out. As you turned your head, his eyebrow quirked up as a small smile came over his face as he shook his head. He definitely knew you were eavesdropping.

"I'll look up some therapists, tonight." You said, softly as Logan got to the top of the stairs as you leant down to put the basket on the floor. His arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you tightly, his head in the dip of your neck.

"Are you upset?" He asked, his voice calm and soft.

"No, I'm just glad he opened up to you." You breathed, rubbing at his forearm as he started swaying the two of you back and forth.

"Mom! Sharlie got my crackers!" Sophie yelped from the living room, as Logan chuckled as you sighed, he kissed your cheek before letting you go. As you started towards the living room, you turned to see Logan grab the laundry basket before heading towards your room down the hall.

"Coming baby!"

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viennakarma · 6 months

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My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #brocedes #Spotify

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ghosty-writes-23 · 8 months

Text

I'm Home Sweetheart. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, NSFW Content, !CONSENT IS KEY!, Body worship, !WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Choking, Breathplay, Size kink, Spit play, Doggystyle, Blow Job, Eating out, 69, Dom!Leon, Aftercare.

Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “Tell me about your book sweetheart, I want to recreate those scenes with you.” Where your kind and caring husband Leon comes home early from a mission and surprises you by building a private in-home library as you were starting to run out of space to keep your precious books and wants to recreate your favourite scenes from your favourite authors.

Word Count: 3.7k

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

Ada's Version.

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18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.

Using your teeth to pull open the bottle cap top of the ice cold orange juice, you took a few huge mouthfuls as you waited for the stop light to turn green, the drink was cold and refreshing causing a shiver to run though your body as you placed the bottle on the passenger's seat. Today you were coming back from annual and yearly no boyfriends or husbands girls vacation weekend you and your best friend always planned since you were in high school.

The trip started out innocently just spending the day at the spa getting your nails done and relaxing, to only end up going clubbing last night and dancing on the table to when I grow up by the pussycat dolls in 6 inch stiletto heels. As much as you loved the girls' vacation and letting loose for a couple days, you couldn’t wait to get home and curl up next to your husband, with a spicy enemies to lovers book with your dog Ace cuddled into your side.

Ace is an old German shepherd that is also an ex police dog whose owner was killed in the line of duty, the poor dog was so confused on why his owner and handler didn’t come back, he would wait for his older owner to return, as time went on Ace grew more and more depressed he refused to work with anybody else or be social with other dogs.

It go so bad that the police department thought it would be better to put Ace up for adoption and hope he would find a loving forever home but Ace just stayed in his kennel hiding away, he refused to eat and would growl at anybody who came near him.

That was until he met your husband of 8 years Leon who was looking for a dog that could protect you while he was away on missions, but also he could play around with at the park or at home when he had time off, the moment the two of them meet they were inseparable and Leon rushed to adopt him that day and after waiting for a week you both welcomed Ace into your little family and you both became the dogs whole world.

Always coming for cuddles and acting like a huge baby even letting you put Leon’s sunglasses on him and take pictures, it filled your heart with so much joy when Ace started putting on weight and started looking healthier.

Then you have your sweet little Oreo who was just your average black cat with white little paws and little face markings with one marking on her chest that looks like a heart, she was a stray when you first found her huddled in a small box on a stormy night outside your mom’s bakery, she was so small and fragile you didn’t think she would make it through the night, she was really skinny and her fur was matted to her skin nearly, she must of been abandoned at a very young age which broke your heart.

She had no collar and no microchip so it was pointless trying to find her old owners. So that night you wrapped her up in your warm woolly scarf and took her home, where both you and Leon very gently brushed her fur, clipped her nails and gave her some food and water after you asked Leon to get some kitten food before you got home. She warmed up to you both but she mostly stuck to your side always wanting cuddles and pets.

You ended up adopting her a few days later after she passed all the vet checks and got her vaccinations, she was a little cautious of Leon since he smelt like Ace, but Ace was a good boy and let Oreo get used to him, even if it meant he got bit and clawed at a few times but slowly they became friends, then even shared Ace’s bed on cold nights and play with their toys with each other.

When the stoplight finally turned green you started driving down the main highway listening to the music that softly played in your car, distracting you from the slightly throbbing pain in your head from your dull hangover. The drive home was quick and you pulled into your garage within 10 minutes, the throbbing in your head subsided and you didn't feel as bad but you where really hungry.

Getting out you grabbed your bag and started heading inside to where you could hear Ace happily barking at the front door, you could even hear his tippy tappy paws, it caused you to smile thinking somebody was excited that you were home.

“Hey Baby.” You say happily after opening the front door, Ace was running around your legs, his tail wagging so fast it was almost like a dark blur as he was barking, it was so sweet, you heard Oreo meow from the small table by the door as if she was saying welcome home, putting your bag down you kneeled down and started petting ace and gave Oreo’s head a soft kiss.

“Yes yes I missed you guys too.” you say as Oreo rubbed her face on your cheek and Ace was nuzzling into your hand. “Where you talking to me sweetheart.” Your husband Leon says with a soft chuckle, causing you to look at him wide eyed before running over and hugging Leon tightly. “Your back early.” you say happily wrapping your arms around his neck, his large arms wrapped around your waist pulling your body closer to him.

“Surprise.” he says as you nuzzle into his chest, you were so glad your husband was home in one piece. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whined softly hitting his shoulder causing him to laugh before he grabbed your smaller hand in his larger one. “Because I have a surprise for you.” he hints as he starts walking down the hallway of your house, you were a little confused but you followed your husband anyway.

Soon you found yourself outside your storage room, it was a spare bedroom you and Leon used for storage since it was pretty spacious and you didn't really use it, pulling out a key from his pocket Leon slid the key into lock and softly popped open the door. “Go inside.” Leon says, by his tone you could tell he was excited for you to see his surprise, pushing the door open you gasped softly, your one messy and chaotic storage room was turned into an in-home library.

There was black floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your books and some new ones you recognized, there was also a small wooden ladder that travel down the bookshelves, a fluffy rug on the ground, your window seat was decorated with comfy pillows and a blanket, there was a small coffee table in the middle of the room with a container with bookmarks, colorful page tabs, highlighters fine tip pens, and a blackberry and guava scented candle accompanied by a box of matches, in the far right conner was a little coffee and tea station where you could make a hot drink and cozy up with one of your books, The room felt warm and cozy, you could feel your eyes tearing up at the sight.

“Leon…” you say quietly, your voice cracking slightly, you looked up at your husband teary eyed to which he softly cupped your cheek and kissed you softly. “Happy valentines day, I wanted you to have a place for all your books since they were kind of taking over the house.” he says with a chuckle as he rested his forehead on yours as his rough thumb stroked the soft skin of your cheek, it would explain the black paint smudge on his face.

“I love you so much.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve Leon. “Not as much as I love you sweetheart.” he says as he gives your hips a slight squeeze.

Later That Night

You where cozied up in your little library reading one of the new books Leon had purchased you, it was a spicy romance novel that has a few dark twists, just as you were about to turn to the next page your library door opened and saw Leon was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest he must of come back from his night run with Ace.

When your gaze met his there was a soft and gentle look in his baby blue eyes as he took in the sight of you reading your book, the soft light of the lamp casting a warm glow on your skin, to him you where Leon’s little slice of heaven from the rest of the chaos in his world.

“What's this book about?” Leon asked with curiosity as he walked into your library and rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble tickling the side of your face. “A spicy forbidden romance between a DEA agent and a criminal mastermind.” you tell him with a small giddy look on your face, it was no secret that you had an ‘interest’ in forbidden romances but Leon was no stranger to that.

“Do you like a man in uniform?” he mumbled deeply in your ear as he started to press soft kisses to your neck, a soft sigh left your lips as you bit your bottom lip.

“You know I do.” you say as your eyes flutter closed enjoying the loving affection from your husband, your book now just a passing thought. “How about you put your book down and get that pretty little ass upstairs.” Leon suggests against your ear, his voice a few octaves deeper causing you to squeeze your thighs slightly, you felt one of his hands make its way from your hip up your stomach and chest before he wrapped his fingers around your neck and gave it a light squeeze causing a soft whine to leave your lips.

“Okay.” you say looking up at him through your lashes, releasing your neck he placed an innocent kiss on your forehead before you started making your way to your shared bedroom upstairs.

Once you made it to your shared bedroom you could hear Leon doing something downstairs, but you just went and waited on your bed for him with your hands in your lap, after a couple moments you could hear his heavy footsteps coming up the steps “he must be wearing his boots.” you thought and when he came into view all the moisture in your mouth evaporated, thighs squeezed together and your pussy clenched.

There Leon stood in his work clothing which consisted of a navy blue short sleeve top that was tight around his biceps, dark grey cargo jeans and black combat boots, but what really caught your eyes was the grey tactical vest that was strapped around his front and back. You felt yourself gulping slightly as you looked at your husband up and down, “I’m in danger.” you thought but you couldn’t help but be excited.

“Like what you see doll?” Leon asked, there was a slight tease in his tone as he walked over to you and gently grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, you nodded your head not trusting your voice as you nuzzled your face into his hand, hearing a soft chuckle you felt Leon gently tug your face up before he gently kissed you, his lips were warm and soft his kiss gentle and sweet.

Feeling his hand move away from your chin you felt him start to strip you of your oversized shirt that was clearly his, only breaking the kiss for a second to tug his your shirt off then tossing it on the ground before reconnecting your lips again, you feel back onto your plush bed one of his knees in between your legs as he hovered over you.

Your fingers found their way into his dark hair and gently tugged on his roots, earning you a soft groan from your husband as he tugged your leggings off your legs leaving you in your bra and panties. When Leon finally broke the kiss you looked up at each other breathing heavily, nothing but love and affection swimming in both your eyes for each other.

One of his gloved hands rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip sticking your tongue out slightly you ran it up the front of his glove before taking his gloved thumb into your mouth and gently sucking.

“And you say I'm a tease princess.” Leon groaned, cheekily you gently bit his thumb and your teeth leaving a little imprint in his glove, before you leaned up and kissed him then used your strength to push Leon over onto the other side of the bed then straddle his waist, you felt his eyes on you but you where on a mission you wanted to pay Leon back for the library and the thoughtfulness then went into the idea.

You unclipped his tactical vest and placed on the ground be your bed before you trailed gentle kisses down his clothed chest and stomach as your hands worked on unbutton his pants and tugging them down his legs leaving him in his underwear.

When you finally reached the top of his underwear that had a wet patch, you gently tugged them down revealing his hard cock that was leaking precum everywhere, you looked up at Leon as if to ask permission Leon nodded his head and ran his fingers through your hair and held it in a makeshift ponytail so your hair didn’t get in your eyes.

Smiling soft you let your tongue run up the side before you wrapped your lips around the tip and slowly began to bob your head you could feel every vein and ridge, he was heavy on your tongue but there was a small comfort, you made yourself at home placing your hands on his muscular thighs as you set a smooth pace.

Slowly bobbing your head occasionally he would hit the back of your throat, causing tears to prick your eyes but you blinked them away quickly.

Above you could hear Leon groaning and giving you soft praises of “such a good girl” and “feels so good darling.” the praise sent heat to your cheeks and kept you going, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to be his good girl.

You could feel your jaw was being to hurt slightly when your suddenly pulled off, breathing heavily saliva coating your slightly swollen lips a soft whine leaving your throat as you looked at your husband with a pout, he was breathing heavily his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Want to make you feel good too.” Leon says before you can think about what he said he pulls your lower half over his face, his stubble tickling the inside of your thighs, you could feel his warm breath on the wet patch of your panties causing you to clench around nothing and a soft whine to leave your lips.

When you felt him move your panties to the side and his tongue ran up your folds, a soft moan left your lips as you slightly arched your back. You could feel the heat running through your body as he feasted on you, as if he was in his own little world with his tongue deep inside you.

Feeling his wrap his arms around your hips to keep you in place, you went back to giving him the same pleasure, your pillowy lips wrapping around his cock again and bobbing your head at a steady pace with your cheeks slightly sucked in.

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, you pulled away slightly and swirled your tongue around his tip causing his hips to jolt slightly you knew he was close, but so where you as your thighs shook slightly around his head.

“Fuck doll cumming.” Leon groaned before you pushed him all the way down your throat, a few tears rolling down your cheeks at the sudden intrusion but you ignored the pain as your throat muscles tightened around him.

Leon came down your throat with a deep groan and even slightly bucked his hips, you soon followed and came with a loud moan, pulling away slightly you breathed heavily and wiped your mouth. Leon was breathing heavily but there was a huge grin on his face as he moved so now he was hovering over you.

“Another round princess?” he asked as he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a silver square, you could barely pull a thought together but you nodded your head and let your husband position you how he wanted, lucky this time you were laid on your stomach with a pillow under your hips, your head resting against your pillow and soft hum leaving your lips as you where in a comfortable position.

You heard the sound of the condom packet being torn open and the lid of a lube bottle being cracked opened, it wasn’t that you weren't used to Leon’s size but sometimes it made it more comfortable, you heard the sound of the rest of his clothes hit the ground beside the bed as he stripped off, he even carefully took your soaked panties off and tossed them onto the pile of his clothes.

“Cold.” you whined softly as a shiver went down your spine, you felt Leon placed a small blob over your slit and gently rub it in. “I know sweetheart, you'll warm up soon princess I promise.” Leon says before you felt him at your entrance, you closed your eyes and waited for the familiar stretch, a soft moan left your lips as he slowly pushed in being careful and soon bottomed out a soft groan leaving both of your lips as you felt each other.

“Fuck.” you cursed as you placed your face into your pillow, no matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms you with how good he makes you feel.

“Are you ok?” Leon asked when you felt him gently kiss your shoulder, when he was this gentle with you it made your heart skip a beat, you nodded your head and gave him a smile as you leaned up and softly kissed her cheek.

“I’m ok but I do have one request?” you say when you notice he is still wearing the gloves on his hands, you saw him glance between you and his hands a small smirk on his face as he already knew what you were asking him for, moving his arm his bicep wrapped snug around your neck giving a soft squeeze Leon began to thrust slowly, teasingly but you here in heaven with his bicep around your neck.

“Such a dirty little girl, do you like it when I choke you? Deprive you of oxygen until you nearly pass out.” Leon asked his tone was mean and nasty as the pace of his thrusts picked up, your brain was going fuzzy you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

You loved it when Leon was your kind and sweet husband but deep deep down a part of you liked it when he was mean and dominant, it made you feel so small being under him, his body towering over yours, his muscles and strength double if not triple then yours and it was such a turn on.

“Yes I do.” you choked out as you looked up at your husband, there was a smirk on his face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.

“Open.” he demanded and you opened your mouth without hesitation then you felt Leon spit into your mouth making you feel even dirtier, but you loved it and grinned up at him almost as if you were a crazed woman, you swallowed before you opened your mouth again and stick out your tongue.

“Fuck I love you so much.” Leon groaned his voice deeper as he tightened his bicep around your neck, causing small spots to come into your version. You knew your safe word but you didn’t want to use it, this feeling felt like pure ecstasy and you were floating. “You close darling?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach.

“Yes.” you choked out in between moans, your thighs were trembling and your head was feeling foggy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow. After a couple minutes you slowly felt him pull out then discard the used condom in the rubbish.

an hour later

You were freshly showered and dressed in one of Leon’s shirts and a pair of panties, you both were relaxing in bed cuddled into Leon with Ace sleeping in his dog bed next to the window and Oreo resting and purring in between you and Leon.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” you heard Leon asked as he was tracing his thumb on your hip bone under his shirt you were wearing. “No, you were perfect as always.” you say you press a kiss to the top of his bare chest that had a few old scars, this caused him to smile and pull you closer to him being careful of Oreo as he doesn’t want to be attacked by her again.

“Happy Valentine's Day doll.” Leon says as he kisses your head and makes sure both you and Oreo are comfortable on the bed, “Happy Valentine's Day honey.” you say as you leaned up and softly kissed him, grateful to have a husband as kind, caring and gentle as Leon….

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 month

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I'm Sorry I Left You Behind

SUMMARY: The Bead Brawl tournament ends and Leona, Kalim, Vil and Lilia run away leaving you, Grim and Jack behind. Later, they will realize that they hurt you by doing this to you and will apologize to you.

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim; Vil Schoenheit; Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort

WARNING: Spoilers from Cloudcalling on the Savanna (Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina) and its respective cards.

WORD COUNT: An average of 640 words per character.

COMMENTS: At first, I was going to write scenarios for all the event cards, but as Leona's was so personal, it ended up inspiring me to write a lot. So I decided to let him have his solo post:

There's a Calm Surrender (Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

By the way, I was undecided whether to use the name Neji or Kifaji, so I used both. 😅

I hope you enjoy. 😘

CONTEXT: To escape from Cheka, Neji(Kifaji) and the palace guards who were with them, Leona rushed to the car to drive back to the hotel. Vil, Kalim and Lilia went with him. And you, Grim and Jack were left behind in the rain.

I mean, Leona wanted to escape and the car didn't have seats for everyone but... still... it made you a little sad. At least you had Jack who never left your side. Eventually, Cheka and Neji(Kifaji) reached you, after Leona and the others had already fled. Of course the first thing Neji(Kifaji) did was apologize for Leona's rudeness and offer to take you back to the hotel.

When you arrived at the hotel, you went to your room with the intention of showering and changing your clothes. But before you can do that, someone knocks on your door.

“[Y/N]! You won't believe the ride we took with Leona.” Kalim tells you, enthusiastically. “It was amazing! I’ve never been in a car that shook that hard! It was so heart-pounding...” He stops himself when he actually looks at you. “Ho! [Y/N] You're soaking wet! What-?” and then he remembers “HA! We left you behind in the rain! I'm so sorry! Do you need anything? I can go ask for more towels for you.”

You say it's not necessary, that you're fine, you just need to take a shower and change your clothes.

“I'm glad. Let me know when you're done, okay? I really want to tell you about the ride... And made up for leaving without you.”

You shower, put on your pajamas, and text Kalim that you’re ready. But then, seeing Grim sleeping and remembering that Kalim can talk loudly without realizing it, you send him another message asking if you could be the one to go to his room instead, so you can be more comfortable talking without worrying about waking Grim up. He says it is a great idea and that you're welcome in his room anytime. Plus: “But come quickly. I really want to talk and be with you.”

SUNSET VILLA - KALIM'S ROOM

Kalim opens the door for you. It shouldn't be a surprise to discover that he had a much fancier and more luxurious room than yours. He closes the door and takes both of your hands to take you with him to sit on the bed.

“I have lots of snacks, you can eat whatever you want.” he tells you with a smile and pointing to a large basket full of traditional snacks.

He excitedly tells you how crazy and fun the ride with Leona was. And about when Jamil finally found him. You wanted to be happy that he had so much fun, but you couldn't shake the thought that while all that was happening you had been left behind in the rain, as if it would be easy for them to forget about you. And it showed on your face.

“Hmm? What’s wrong? Don't you like the taste?” He asks as you were eating one of the snacks. “You can always leave it aside and choose another one, no problem.”

You say that's not it and your expression becomes sadder as you wonder if you should tell him what you were really thinking.

“Well, I can see you're sad. Can you tell me what's going on. Nothing would make me happier than seeing a smile back on your face.” He smiles innocently.

You decide to tell him and say how abandoned and forgotten you felt.

“Oh no! I'm so sorry for doing this to you! We didn't want to abandon you and we didn't forget you. Well... I mean... I think technically with all the adrenaline we forget... But it wasn't out of spite! We just...” he sighs “No, there is no excuse. We did you wrong. I should have stayed with you.” There is a short pause. “I know a hug isn't enough to fix things, but can I give you one?”

You let him and he wraps his arms around you. It's very comforting, you feel a strong but gentle hug, that meanwhile loosens without releasing you.

“Can you forgive me?” He asks in a soft and sad voice, close to your ear, still hugging you. “I promise I won't do it again. I’ll never leave you again.”

You gently ask about what he just said. He breaks the hug calmly to look at you, still with his hands on your arms.

“I really like you. I feel really bad knowing that I hurt you. I don't want to do that again. I want to see you happy and smiling and I want to share all the good and fun moments I have with you. So I will never leave you behind again. It's a promise!”

When you arrived at the hotel, you went to your room to shower and change your clothes, but before you enter the bathroom, you receive a message. It's from Vil.

“I heard that you have already arrived. I would like to talk with you. Take a shower and let me know when you're dressed.” You reply to him to confirm that you saw the message, and shortly he replies to you: “I stopped by your room earlier and left the soap soap packed with hot spring minerals I bought in your bathroom for you to use this. But it's just this once, then I'll take it back with me. So enjoy it, but don't spend too much.”

You do so. You not only feel more comfy but more relaxed. You put on your pajamas and text Vil that you're ready.

“Grim is sleeping, isn't he? I'd like to talk without worrying about waking him up. Could you come to my room?” You say that you can and that you are going there now. “Thank you, [Y/N]. I'll try not to steal too much of your rest time.”

SUNSET VILLA - VIL'S ROOM

You knock on Vil's room door saying it's you, and you hear his voice giving you permission to enter. You enter and see him sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out on the bed and a bandage on one of his ankles with a bag of ice on top.

“There is no need to worry.” Vil tells you. “Personally, I think they are exaggerating a bit, but it wouldn’t be wise of me to refuse treatment.”

You close the door behind you and go to sit next to him on the bed. You look at his ankle again and sees that it and his foot are very swollen. You ask if it's really the doctors who are exaggerating or he who doesn't want to make a big deal of it.

He sighs. “Very well. I may have gone too far in hiding my injury and making it worse during the tournament. But now everything is under control. So please don't worry, okay?” He smiles to reassure you. “It is another subject I wanted to talk to you about.”

“And what is it?” You ask.

“I am sorry.” Vil’s words and look say.

“For what?”

“For leaving you behind and in the rain. I know it was Leona who ran away and left his guests behind, but I was one of those who went after him and got into the car. Which is equally rude and inelegant. You supported us the whole time and did what you could to help us and not be a burden and we treated you like one in the end, and for that I am deeply sorry. Did you arrive well at the hotel? Any symptoms of a cold?”

You answer no, that you arrived well, Neji(Kifaji) took it upon himself to guarantee that.

“I see. I must thank him, and apologize as well.” He smells the air. “Ah, you used the soap I left for you.” And you apologize for forgetting to bring it back. “It's okay. You can return it to me tomorrow. I can see that it's really good, the skin on your face looks beautifully healthy.” You smile thanking him. “You know, come to think of it, you can keep the soap. That skin matches that smile very well.” He smiles, and then laughs when he sees how flattered you got. “You should go back to bed now. It would be a shame to ruin the effects of your bath with a short night's rest.”

You agree and get up, but before leaving you notice his foot again and ask if he would like you to help him lie down.

“I told you you didn't need to worry. But thank you, I'll be fine.”

How silly, he was right. You rephrase the sentence: You WILL help him lie down.

“[Y/N], I already told you-” But you pretend you're not listening, and hold the bag of ice with one hand and his foot in the other. You look at him as a sign that he can settle in bed now. He sighs as he does so. “You are so stubborn. It's almost charming.”

“Almost?”

He laughs softly. “Stubbornness isn't charming most of the time, but... I think you can make it quite cute.”

You thank him for the compliment, and feeling bold, you lean in and kiss his forehead. “Good night, Vil.” As you start to straighten up, you feel a hand on your arm pulling you back. And he kisses your cheek.

“Good night, [Y/N].” he whispers with a smile. “And thank you.”

You arrive at the hotel and go to your room. You take a shower, put on your pajamas and when you're about to go to bed, you hear a light knock on the door. Grim groans and turns over, but doesn't wake up. You get closer to the door to ask who it is, but before you do it, you get your answer.

“It's the cute old me.” you hear Lilia's voice on the other side. You open the door. “Hi [Y/N]. Sorry to interrupt your rest, but I wanted to tell you something.” He says quietly. He leans to the side to see Grim sleeping behind you. “But maybe we should do it somewhere else. I don't want to wake Grim... again. In my room perhaps? I have some snacks.” he smiles invitingly.

SUNSET VILLA - LILIA'S ROOM

The two of you enter Lilia's room and he immediately grabs a bag full of snacks. He sits on the bed and invites you to sit next to him, with the bag between you.

“You can take whatever you want if you are hungry.” He says. You take one and it continues. “You didn't catch a cold, did you?”

You seem a little confused at first, but then you realize what he's referring to. You say no, and that you immediately took a hot bath when you arrived, but regardless of whether you tried to hide it or not, Lilia would immediately realize that you were sad about what happened.

“My deepest apologies.” he says regretfully. “I knew you wouldn't be in danger. You were with Jack and Neji(Kifaji) and the royal guards were sure to bring you back to the hotel safe and sound. That's how I usually see things at first. But... I didn't think about how that act could be interpreted. Running away for fun leaving you behind in the rain. Sounds like abandonment, doesn't it?”

You look away, with a sad expression that confirms what he said.

“That's why I wanted to talk to you. That was absolutely not my intention. I am quite knowledgeable about whether or not someone is at risk physically, but it seems like I'm still learning to understand the same emotionally. After all, what is no big deal for one person can be a very cruel act for another. I'm not saying you're too sensitive, but I think it depends on how much you like the person committing the act, right?”

He holds both your hands in his. “Your heart is your most wonderful quality. And as someone it can love, I should protect it better and not taking it for granted.” He kisses the back of your hands. “Could you forgive me for my mistake?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Kalim Al-Asim #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

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msmk11 · 2 months

Text

Best Friend's Mom Part Two

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Word count: 5.6k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of absent parent, hints of angst, light smut in the middle, full smut at the end

Summary: You and Wanda had just slept together. You had just slept with your best friends' mom. But what happens after? Will the best night of your life be a one-time thing?

A/n: GUYS. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on part 1. I was so anxious to post it because I had never written for Wanda before, and I thought it was lowkey crap. But you guys have been so kind, and loving, and supportive, and it made my week. I was feeling a little bit of pressure to write this next part because part one did so well, but I'm happy with the finished product. I've also decided to have a part 3 and 4 to finish up this story because I want it to span the whole week of reader's spring break. I hope that you all enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list for this series just lmk.

Seriously all my love, MK <3

There is something hot blowing on your neck when you first wake up, and your sleepy brain is a little more than confused. Through your bleary eyes you look for the source, and that’s when everything from the night before comes rushing back.

Wanda.

You and Wanda.

Sleeping together.

Not only are you currently sharing a bed with your two best friends’ mom, you slept with her.

What makes it worse? It was fucking amazing. And you want do it again.

You know you’re going to hell. You’d just crossed so many boundaries, and you aren’t sure Billy and Tommy will ever forgive you if they find out.

When they find out.

“Detka,”

Your racing thoughts, and also heart, comes to a halt at the soft whisper of Wanda’s own personal nickname for you- one that sounded so different less than 12 hours ago as you made her hoarse with pleasure.

Cautiously, you roll on your side to meet Wanda face-to-face. Even in the morning she looks so incredibly beautiful, with her red waves sprawled out on her pillow, her green eyes soft and warm, and her pink lips just a little swollen from the night before.

“What’s that pretty little mind of yours thinking about so early,” she asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into her touch and close your eyes, “You. Us. Last night.”

Her hand pulls away and you open your eyes, “Do you regret it, Detka?”

“No Wanda, of course not. I don’t. It’s just, this-“

“Makes things complicated?”

You sigh and nod. You chew on your lip anxiously as all the racing thoughts come back.

“Honey, stop,” Wanda says, placing her thumb on your bottom lip, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

She pulls you into her arms and places the softest, sweetest kiss against your lips. You melt into her embrace and decide to ignore all your problems for just a little longer. Anyways, how could anything really be wrong when Wanda holds you as if nothing could hurt you?

“We’ll figure it all out in time, baby. But for now, just lay with me for a while, yeah?”

You press a gentle kiss to her neck, an action that speaks far louder than any words, and snuggle closer into her. With her fingers running gently through your hair, and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat against your ear, you are lulled back into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake up a little while later, the spot next to you is cold, and you know that at some point Wanda slipped out while you were sleeping to avoid suspicion. You know she did the right thing, and that it’s for the best, but the secrecy of it all is just a little painful.

You shrug it off, however, and crawl out of bed. Until you can assess the state of your skin- Wanda’s mouth had been all over- you throw on sweats and a hoodie. As you traipse down the hall you’re met with the smell of pancakes and quiet chatter. Before you step into the kitchen, you admire the pretty picture before you- Wanda sat between her two boys at the table as they all eat pancakes and reminisce about the past. You almost feel bad ruining it.

Almost.

But your hunger wins out.

“She finally decides to join us,” Tommy teases as you step into the kitchen.

You stick your tongue out at him as you sit down to his right and begin to pile pancakes onto your plate.

“I was starting to worry that you were dead,” Billy adds, and you roll your eyes.

“I must’ve just been worn out,” you reply, briefly glancing at Wanda before looking down and shoveling food into your mouth.

“Did you not sleep okay, honey?”

You look up at Wanda again and notice a glint of mischief in her green eyes, “Just always a little restless sleeping in a new bed, but I fell asleep eventually.”

“You just let me know if I can do anything to help,” she says sweetly. And then, she winks.

You choke on your pancake a little and Tommy starts patting your back. When you finally get a little air back in your lungs you cough out, “okay, thanks, Wanda.”

She’s gonna be the death of you.

*****

The boys decide that the four of you will head into the beach town today to look around the shops and restaurants. You’re more than grateful for this, especially with the alternative being that you’d have to see Wanda in a bikini yet again.

You’re dressed simple in cutoff blue jeans and a plain white tank top, and you’ve tucked your hair under a white baseball cap. Wanda, it seems, is still trying to tease you, wearing the cutest flowy, white skirt with a maroon tank top. It’s maddening and you almost scoff at her audacity. If her boys weren’t with you, you’d probably drag her off to a bathroom right now and take her right then and there. Alas, they are, and so you have to practice self-control. It’s still easier than maintaining self-control around her in a swimsuit, so you feel grateful to walk around with your friends and fawn over little trinkets you absolutely do not need. You plan to do your very best to forget that Wanda’s even there, but she has other plans.

Wanda’s hands are all. over. you. all. day.

Mind you, all of her touches are subtle enough that Billy and Tommy would never suspect a thing. But they’re not subtle to you. You feel every touch tenfold, and it leaves you a little dazed after each interaction.

When you get to the first shop, a mini boutique, Billy, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for you and Wanda. The redhead doesn’t just motion for you to go inside first. No. Instead, she places her hand on the small of your back and guides you into the store, letting her hand linger a little near your ass until Billy and Tommy step inside.

At the book store, you find a copy of the romance novel you’ve been dying to read but couldn’t find anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s up on a high shelf that you can’t quite reach. Just as you turn to look for one of the twins, Wanda saddles up behind you touching your shoulder, “I got it, honey.”

She uses you as a balance as she stands on her tip toes and grabs you the book. It’s in your trembling hands the next moment and then she’s disappeared to another aisle.

The local thrift store in town is packed full of clutter. Realistically, only one person can walk down a row at a time because of how narrow they are. Wanda, of course, ignores this unsaid rule entirely, at least when it comes to you. As you sift through the racks upon racks of clothes, Wanda wonders over and begins to make small talk about your thrift finds. Then, without warning she says, “excuse me, honey,” and grabs your waist, shifting you so that she can pass by. Her tits rub up against your back when she does it, and you shiver.

The four of you have lunch at a cute cafe, and sit at a circle table on the outdoor patio. Unsurprisingly, you end up sitting next to Wanda, and her hand magically finds its way to your thigh. You desperately try to keep your cool throughout lunch and hope that your face isn’t too flushed. Near the end of the meal, her hand begins moving up and down your thigh, creeping a little closer to where you want her. You cough and stand abruptly, getting startled looks from your friends.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

You rush inside and splash water on your face.

Throughout the day, even when Wanda isn’t touching you, she somehow always manages to drive you crazy. At the tourist shop, Wanda decides to try on a sweatshirt. When she’s taking it off, her shirt rides up a little and you see a little patch of her soft, beautiful skin. When you grab a treat from the ice cream shop, you nearly lose your mind as she licks whipped cream off her fingertip to “sample it.”

Wanda’s teasing is nonstop and relentless all afternoon. By the time you get back for dinner you’re a complete and utter mess. But you’re not guaranteed any relief because Billy and Tommy drag you away to swim. Even though you shoot Wanda a desperate glance, she only winks and gets back to cooking.

*****

The evening had been spent by the pool, getting out occasionally to eat a little, and then jumping back in. You competed in races with Tommy, dove for pool sticks, and convinced Wanda to join you three for Marco Polo. As night settles in, the air cools down and the pool becomes much too chilly to bear. Not wanting to go inside just yet, you move to the hot tub. As you sink into the bubbling, hot water you sigh loudly. Your tense muscles ease and you begin to regain some feeling in your chilled fingers and toes.

You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you call out goodnight to Billy and Tommy. Wanda goes in with them, taking the dishes to the kitchen, and you have to admit that you’re a little disappointed she doesn’t stay outside.

The door shuts with a resounding thud, and you are left alone with your thoughts. It’s quiet, and the only thing you can hear are the crickets chirping and the bubbling water in which you sit. You’re blanketed in darkness, even the moon asleep for the night, save for the stars that sprinkle the navy sky.

The peaceful evening soothes you, and you close your eyes. You hear the wooden door open and close again, and soft, padded footsteps across the deck. You’re too scared to open your eyes and see who it is- for fear of disappointment. This time, you’re not disappointed.

Eyes still closed, you feel soft lips capture yours and you gasp softly. When Wanda pulls away your eyes flutter open and you find hers staring back at you fondly. She hasn’t yet joined you in the hot tub, but is rather standing at its edge, leaning over to kiss you from upside down.

You smile softly at her, “Hey, Wanda.”

“Hi Detka. I missed you,” she whispers against your lips.

“You were with me all day.”

“Not in the way that I wanted to be.”

“Well you sure got your fair share of teasing in,” you fake scold, “did that satisfy you enough?”

She slowly shakes her and rasps, “no.”

“We’ll have to fix that then.”

Wanda walks around the hot tub to the stairs and wades into the water. She slowly, tantalizingly, makes her way towards you. You sigh out her name impatiently and then finally, finally, your lips connect. You grab her waist gently and pull her closer to you.

Wanda’s hands find a home in your hair as she tugs on it a little and you moan.

“God, I’ve been dying to touch you all day,” she murmurs.

“I could tell,” you pant, “such a fucking tease, grabbing my hips, touching my shoulders, rubbing my thigh. It’s too bad Billy and Tommy were there, or I would’ve had my way with you.”

“Not very nice to say about your best friends.”

“Hard to care about them when you’re in front of me,” you admit, “all beautiful, and interesting, and alluring.”

You press a final kiss to her lips and then pull away, kissing her cheek, then her jaw, then behind her ear, her neck, her collarbone, and then right between her tits.

You keep your mouth there, hoping to leave a mark behind that will be just out of sight when she wears a tank top or a revealing dress. She grabs your head and pushes it forward, burying it deeper in her chest. Her soft moans and sighs make you grip her waist harder, and you pull her onto your lap where you’re sitting in the hot tub. When you nip slightly at her skin she whimpers and you moan against her.

“You sound so pretty Wanda,” you tell her, voice muffled.

You place kisses back up her chest as your hands move downwards to squeeze her ass. She squeals a little and you press another kiss to her lips to silence her.

“Wanna see you, baby,” Wanda tells you.

Her hands creep around your back and slowly untie your swimsuit. Your top falls away revealing your tits to her. It’s too dark for her to see much, but she still whispers, “so beautiful, Detka.”

She leans forward and presses a kiss to each before reaching out and groping them. You throw your head back and sigh. It’s a relief, finally having her hands on you again after all the teasing. She slowly massages each of your tits and you pant, gripping her waist so tightly you’re surprised she hasn’t yelped in pain. When her thumb runs over your sensitive nipples, your hips buck up into hers.

“Wanda, I-“

“I know, baby.”

Just as she is leaning down to take you into her mouth the door to the house squeals open. You jump apart, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you cover yourself and sink lower into the water.

Tommy peaks his head out, “Guys, come watch a movie with us. We’ve got it queued up.”

You quietly groan.

Thankfully, Wanda responds for you both.

“Okay, moya lubov. We’ll dry off and be in.”

Tommy closes the door, and you groan much louder now, letting your head fall back against the hot tub in defeat.

Wanda chuckles lowly, “we’ll finish this another time, baby. Promise.”

You sigh and nod.

“Here, let me help you put this back on,” Wanda says kindly, picking up your discarded top.

You turn away from Wanda, and she wraps it back around you. She breathes on your neck as she ties it back in place, and her fingers just ghost over your back. You hold your breath, savoring every moment.

When she’s done, she places a kiss to your neck and pats your ass, “there, all done. Now let’s go watch this movie.”

*******

The rest of your evening had been 2 hours and 12 minutes of torture, and then bedtime. You’d sat in an armchair cuddled up to Tommy while Billy and Wanda had laid on the couch together. You don’t recall a single second of the movie because you had been too busy watching Wanda the whole time.

You adored the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, how her frown during sad scenes was a little crooked, and the way her brows furrowed together when a character was being particularly ridiculous. No matter what face she was making, she was beautiful. And you couldn’t understand how anyone could have been interested in watching a movie when the picture of grace herself had sat before you.

It was mind-numbing, the way Wanda seemed to consume every waking and sleeping second of your mind. There was nothing you could do to ease her from your thoughts, and she was so clearly not keen on helping you out either. You desperately wondered if you’d ever get another moment alone before you headed back to college in four days. If you didn’t, you weren’t sure what you’d do.

Was death by longing even a thing?

Your bed had been cold that night, and you weren’t sure how you’d ever slept without Wanda by your side. Her warmth eased your tense body, her arms kept you safe, her tender kisses reminded you you were alive, and her sweet words whispered into your ears filled your heart to the brim. You knew you were totally fucked, but in a state of denial, you hoped that just one more good fuck would get it out of your system.

The next morning is calm and peaceful, the late night before having kept everyone confined to their beds until a much later hour. You opt out of breakfast and instead lay sprawl out on your bed, fan blowing cool air on you and the windows cracked to hear the waves. You decide to finally start the new book you got in town, and you cozy up in your comforter excitedly.

You open the paperback and crack the spine a little with a resounding pop. This and the smell of fresh pages sends a shiver up your spine and you kick your feet happily. Your eyes eagerly scan the first few pages as you take in the plot, setting and characters. You can feel yourself slowly sinking into the magical fictional world before you and you feel triumphant. Finally, finally, you’ve found something that distracts you from Wanda.

And it does. For a little while. But about twenty pages in a flash of red hair crosses your mind. You shake it off and read another page. Green eyes pierce your vision. You blink it away rapidly. Her perfume seems to waft into your nose, and you stuff your face into your shirt. You try to persevere, but when you realize that you’ve read the same line about ten times now and have yet to process it, you know it’s hopeless. You’re never one to treat a book unkindly, but you’re so frustrated that you toss it across the room and bury yourself under your covers.

Since your brain seems so keen on it, you let yourself indulge in a fictional scene of your own- one of domestic bliss between you and Wanda.

It’d be a hot summer day, just like this one, and you and Wanda would be at your shared cottage home in the countryside. The fan would be humming softly above you while birds and bugs chirped and buzzed through the screened back door. You and Wanda would be on your long, white couch with colorful throws, bare legs tangled. It’d be too hot be fully dressed, so you’d each just be in a pair of underwear and the other’s shirt. Maybe Wanda had made you two some ice-cold lemonade that you sipped on slowly as you casually drew patterns on her leg. Wanda, on the other end, would have a book propped open. She’d be reading it to you, in that soft, sweet voice that makes you melt. When you’d get lost in her eyes instead of listening to her read, she’d playfully scold you.

You could almost hear her now saying, “Detka, Detka. Are you paying attention?”

It’s when an arm touches your shoulder that you realize the real Wanda is actually before you, talking to you.

You jolt and inhale quickly, “huh? What? Sorry I was daydreaming.”

She chuckles and you notice that she’s sitting on the edge of your bed as she smoothes out the wrinkled corners, “I just came to tell you that we’re going out for a nice dinner tonight and that our reservation is at 6:00. Do you have something to wear?”

You do, luckily, and you thank past you for thinking ahead, “yes, I have a few options to choose from. What time should I be ready by?”

Wanda thinks for a moment, “5:00 probably. I want to get some pictures of everyone dressed up too before we head out. And you know how my boys are about photos, always so particular.”

You snort out an understanding giggle, recalling the many times you've taken ‘unsatisfactory’ photos for your friends, and then having to redo them all.

Wanda stands then and smiles sweetly at you, “well, that’s all I had to say, but I’ll leave you to your daydreaming now.”

And when she’s sure no one is coming down the hall, she presses a few hurried kisses to your lips and then leaves the room and you, yearning for more.

*****

You decide to doll yourself up extra nice for the occasion and try to convince yourself it’s all for you and not… others.

You’re wearing flowy blue pants made of a silky material and a white tank top with a scoop neck and wide straps. A dainty gold necklace sits prettily against your collarbone and one or two gold bands rest on your fingers. Strappy white sandals are your shoe of choice, and you make sure to paint your toes a blue color similar to your pants. You keep your makeup simple, only a few swipes of mascara and a quick brush of your brows.

You head out into the living room and whistle lowly, “what a group we are.”

Tommy and Billy have dressed up rather nicely. The former is wearing a nice, short sleeve white shirt and khaki pants. Billy has on a nice red polo and black slacks.

Instead of rustling the boys’ hair like you usually would, you pat their cheeks like a fond grandmother, “look at you two, my boys. All handsome and grown up.”

You wipe away a fake tear and they roll their eyes at you, exasperated.

“I’m just glad you were able to dress up nice,” Tommy retorts, “instead of your usual sewer rat look.”

You scoff, more than offended, and this time do go to ruffle his hair, “did your mother never teach you manners?”

“She taught us to respect those who earned it. You haven’t yet,” Billy deadpans.

You smack his arm rather hard, and you don’t miss the way he winces and rubs the sore spot a little.

“Would it really kill you to tell me I look nice?” you ask, hands on your hips.

Billy dramatically groans, “fine, fine. You look… nice.”

You look at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.

“You know you look beautiful,” he replies, “do I need to say it?”

You sit on the arm of the couch next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “just feels nice to be appreciated sometimes.”

Tommy scoffs playfully, “as if we don’t spoil you rotten with attention.”

You wave him off dismissively and reach out to grab Billy’s hand, giving him a kind squeeze.

It’s in this warm embrace that Wanda finds you all when she emerges from her room. She looks absolutely breathtaking. Of course, she always does, but this. Wow.

Wanda has pulled her hair back into a slick bun and is wearing a slim-fitting, long green dress. It’s an emerald green that looks so nice against her pale skin, and the red lipstick on her lips makes them look even more kissable than usual. She has dangly silver earrings in, a chunky silver necklace, and a small chain bracelet for jewelry. You’re literally speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Well, how do I look?” She asks with a little spin.

Tommy stands and gives her a side hug, “beautiful as always, Mama.”

“The prettiest lady ever,” Billy agrees, joining his family on his mom’s other side. She presses tender kisses to the sides of each of their heads, a big beaming smile on her face.

“Honey, could you get a picture of us?” She asks you sweetly.

You simply nod, too dumb to talk, and take Tommy’s phone. They stand together, arms around each other, and they look like a perfect little family. Wanda is clearly so proud of her sons, and them so devoted and loving to their mother. It makes your heart ache, not only because of fondness but also regret.

Billy and Tommy have opened up to you about how hard it was for Wanda to put their lives and family back together after their dad left. And now, seeing them together, so happy and complete, you feel like an intruder. Out of place. And when you think about Wanda, you want her so badly. But you wonder if you want her enough to risk tearing down everything she’s worked so hard to build.

“There, that should be good,” you say quietly.

Wanda steps forward, “here let me get some pictures of you three.”

When she takes the phone from you, your fingers brush, and you jolt away a little. You try to play it off coolly and go stand in Wanda’s place between the two boys. You smile widely, your arms wrapped around each brother, but the ache is still a little present in your throat.

“Okay, I’ve got some,” the redhead tells you, “but I want a few with you too, honey,” she says, looking at you.

“But why, mom?” Billy asks.

“Well I have to document the best Chicken duo this world has ever seen,” she says with a teasing voice.

The boys groan simultaneously and roll their eyes.

“No need to rub it in, mom.”

She smirks a little as she goes to stand next to you.

“They’re just jealous,” she says, with a stage whisper.

And then, when they’re not paying attention, she actually whispers, “and stop worrying, Detka. Everything is going to be okay.”

“How did you-?”

She briefly glances at your lips and you realize that you’re chewing on them yet again. You stop immediately and she squeezes your side reassuringly. You face the camera and wrap your arm loosely around Wanda’s shoulders. This time, your smile is much more genuine.

*****

Dinner had been amazing. Red sauce pasta with a delightful layer of cheese, and rolls that seemed to be coming out as soon as a basket was emptied. You all had indulged in a little red wine too, and you felt perfectly relaxed and full. The night had been near perfect. But something was missing. Dessert.

You don’t have to go looking far, because it presents itself in the form of Wanda Maximoff, sitting there at dinner looking so delectable in her emerald green dress, teasing you with her sneaky looks and seductive red lips. It feels like ages since you’d last really touched Wanda, and you don’t think you can hold off much longer. You hope your eyes tell her so as the four of you sit around the living room coffee table playing various card games. Eventually, you feign a yawn, and proclaim that you are calling it a night- wine always making you a little sleepy.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. You are wide awake and alert. You waltz off down the hall, but you don’t go into your room. Instead, you take a turn into Wanda’s and quickly shut the door behind you. You wait for her on the soft, bouncy mattress.

It seems as if you’re waiting for Wanda for ages. But you suppose impatience on your end and her need to prevent suspicion only makes it seem so. Finally, you hear the faint creak of the floorboards coming closer and closer to the door. It cracks open and there she is in all her glory. She shuts it softly behind her and you both share a giddy smile like scheming little kids. She uses the door handle as a balance as she slips her heels off and tosses them to the side. Then, she reaches to her hair and pulls out all the clips and hair ties holding the bun together, and her long red waves cascade down her shoulders mesmerizingly. She slowly slinks towards you, drawing you in with her seductress powers. She slots herself between your legs at the edge of the bed and bends down to kiss you deeply.

You inhale sharply against her lips and hold her jaw with your hand. After a few deep kisses she breaks away and whispers, “take that shirt off for me pretty girl. I want to see you.”

To her surprise, and maybe even a little to yours, you say, “no.”

She raises her eyebrows in shock and then they furrow into worry, “do you not want this? I’m sorry if I misread the room I-“

You place a finger to her lips gently, “No, Wanda. You didn’t read anything wrong. I do want this. I want you. But I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanna take care of you. Is that okay? A woman like you should be worshiped.”

Her features soften into what you’d almost coin adoration, but you don’t get your hopes up.

She moves around the side of the bed and lays down up against her pillows, “okay baby, you take charge. Do whatever you want.”

You groan at how soft, and vulnerable, and open she is to you.

God, there are so many things you want to do to Wanda right about now. But what you need most is to taste her. You crawl up to Wanda and place yourself between her legs. You place your hands gently on the back of her neck and lean in for a tender kiss. It’s slow and deep and Wanda just sighs softly. Her hands find a home on your back as you continue to kiss her, slowly adding in tongue. As your hands begin to travel from her neck and down to her sides, just barely grazing her breasts, the kisses get a little more passionate and your breathing heavier. Like last night, you begin to trail kisses down her body. But this time, you don’t stop at her chest. You keep going, pressing kisses to her clothed stomach. When you get to her legs, you teasingly slide your hands up under her dress, fingers dancing around her ankles.

“I need you higher,” she rasps, and you smirk smugly just a little.

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

You slowly push the hem of her soft, green dress upwards, revealing more and more skin as you go. You push it all the way up, letting the dress pool around her waist. You start at her ankles again, this time pressing soft kisses up her legs until your hot breath is on her thighs. She nearly whines at you being so close to touching her, and you giggle, “be patient, sweetheart. I’m almost there.”

And then with one or two more gentle kisses to her inner thighs, you place the softest, teasing kiss on her clothed center. That alone causes Wanda to moan, her hips bucking up into your face a little.

“Detka, please,” she sighs.

You grab the top of her underwear and pull it down her legs, tossing it across the room somewhere.

“Such a beautiful pussy, Wanda,” you sigh.

You lean forward and press another kiss to her, this time, bare cunt. You know she likes it because her legs squeeze your head encouragingly. You lick one strip up the middle and she moans so prettily you squeeze your own legs together. After you’ve gotten one taste, you’re ravenous. You immediately dive in headfirst, licking and sucking at her soft, pink pussy.

She continuously lets out sighs and moans of your name, honey, or Detka. You hold onto her thighs as you continue to eat her out and squeeze them gently, letting her know how good she’s doing. You can tell when Wanda starts to get close because she only gets wetter and wetter. She reaches down and grabs your hair roughly, shoving your face further into her pussy. She lets out a whine and her back arches, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“F-feels so g-good,” she stutters out.

You hum against her and you know it feels good because she lets out yet another moan. To get Wanda to her orgasm, you decide to double the stimulation. Your face moves downwards, sending your tongue in and out of her wet hole. Then, you add a finger to the mix, rubbing small tight circles on her clit quickly. Her back arches again at the newfound pleasure, and the grip she has on your hair is almost painful. But you don’t stop. You continue to thrust in and out while pinching and rubbing her clit. Her moans are so consistent and fairly loud that you’re a little worried her boys will hear. But you’re so lost in her pussy, and she in her pleasure, that you don’t care. With one final hard thrust of your tongue, Wanda plummets over the edge. Her thighs squeeze tightly around your head and your hair is wrapped around her fingers in a coil. Her back arches off the bed significantly and her body shakes in waves of pleasure. The pretty little whines and moans she lets out as she comes makes you want to instantly go for round two. But you don’t, letting her come back down from her high. When she does, she looks a little dazed.

“Well?” You ask slyly.

“Detka,” she sighs, and then she pulls you upward by the shirt and passionately kisses you. When she tastes herself on your lips, she moans again.

You and Wanda are all over each other for quite awhile, and you’re both left feeling pretty fucked out and spacey. Everything with her felt and feels so good. And you know you’re ruined for anyone else. You lay on her bare chest, legs intertwined, and she strokes your back softly. Your eyes flutter shut at her featherlight touches and you’re sure you could fall asleep right then and there. Paired with her slow, quiet breathing, you are in bliss.

“You’re so perfect and beautiful, Detka,” she whispers into your ear.

It tickles and you shiver a little. You place an affirming kiss on her bare chest and snuggle in closer to her side. And as she holds you, as you begin to fall asleep in her arms yet again, you know for sure now that you are fucked. You know then that you are not just attracted to Wanda. You have feelings for her. And the once pleasurable, fluttering butterflies in your stomach are replaced by a big, solid rock.

______________________________________________________________

tag list: @xenaizogie @alexawynters @eclipse727 @idkwhatever580 @opp-jumpscare @starynn @alessiaswifey @noturlondonboy

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coff33andb00ks · 3 months

Text

Rule Breaker - Pt 5

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, disgusting amount of fluff Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4153 auth.note: logan girlies rise up, new banner, also broke this into two parts for reasons, this is a poly fic now and I need to update the summary too don't I spotify: i made a playlist

Kevin sighed heavily, his breath fogging the window. Wiping it away with his hand, he kept staring outside. As though by sheer willpower he could change the weather. "It's rained all day."

Max chuckled, swirling his coffee in his cup. "I know, maate. But it's getting better now, yeah?"

The boy shrugged, turning and jumping down from the sofa. Max knew he had to be bored. There were only so many races and demolition derbies he could put together with the few toy cars he'd brought. The tablet he sometimes played on was charging, and they'd already watched two movies since that morning.

Sighing, Max finished his coffee in one gulp and set his cup down. "Right, come on."

Kevn looked confused, even when Max shrugged on his coat and reached for Kevin's boots. "Where we going?"

"Anywhere but here." Max grinned as the boy rushed to him, nearly falling over as he tried to shove one of his feet into a boot. "We'll go out in the rain, yeah?" he suggested, helping him get his boots on then his raincoat. "It's just a little water."

"Can we splash?" Kevin asked hopefully as he skipped to the stairs.

"Wouldn't be a walk in the rain without a splash," Max promised, picking him up and carrying him until they were outside. Kevin immediately pushed the hood of his coat back, closing his eyes and giggling as the rain landed on his face.

He made sure to get plenty of pictures for y/n of Kevin riding his scooter along the asphalt, and of him trying to jump hard enough to make the puddle water splash above his head. And then he had to do it himself, the boy's childish glee contagious to the point his side ached from laughing. The rain let up and Max knew he had to be ready to go back inside but no, it was time to hunt for wildlife. His shoes squished with water at each step as he held onto Kevin's hand, letting the boy lead him to where they'd spotted groundhogs earlier in the day.

"What if they drowned?" Kevin asked worriedly a few moments later, wringing his small hands and looking down into the flooded hole at the base of the barrier.

"I'm sure they didn't, mate. They're smart, yeah?" Max squatted down, looking at the hole. "They know how to get away from the rain."

"They're on the other side of the wall," a voice said behind them.

Max wanted to be annoyed at the interruption. But Kevin's face lit up at the sound of Logan's voice, and within seconds he was trying to scale the wall.

"I'm too small." Kevin's voice was mournful and accompanied by a world-weary sigh.

"C'mon, I'll hold you up." Logan extended his hands, giving Max a quick nod as he lifted Kevin.

Straightening, Max moved over to peer over the wall, seeing one of the groundhogs creeping away. "See, little mate? They're fine."

Kevin looked and sounded relieved, waving at the animal though it didn't seem to care. "I like animals, Mister Logan."

"Country kid. There's a bunch of geese over on the lake, you wanna go see?" Logan asked.

And he had to tag along. He couldn't just push Kevin into Logan's care, even if the guy was seeing the boy's mom. Kevin chattered nonstop about animals, telling a garbled tale about a goose that had chased him in the park. Squeezing past the turnstile, he waved at the security to indicate the child was with him. Not that he needed to worry, since Kevin already knew the person by name.

"Wow," Kevin breathed in awe as they stepped onto the temporary platform and he saw the dozens of geese gliding over the water.

He looked on as Logan affectionately pushed Kevin's damp hair back from his face, keeping a firm grip on his hand when he walked to the very edge to look down into the water. The breeze sent a chill through him and he worried that Kevin might be cold, too, but didn't want to ruin his fun. Just a few more minutes. It was almost the time y/n had said she'd be done.

"You're good with him," he said to Logan once they were on their way back. He kept his eyes on Kevin, who had gotten back on his scooter and was just ahead, steering so he splashed anyone he passed. But he felt Logan look at him in surprise.

"You think so?" Logan asked.

Max nodded. "He can be a handful, yeah?"

"Yeah, but… He's a good kid." The smile was evident in his voice. "You… You ever think about having kids?"

Only if they looked like… He sighed, nodding. "Sometimes. You?"

"Not really." Logan cleared his throat. "Not until recently."

And now it was time to change the subject. Because—

"You're close with y/n." It wasn't a question.

His stomach twisted. "She's my coworker. An important member of the team."

"Well, yeah, but… You don't watch Checo's kids when they're at the track."

Fucking Americans and their need to point out the obvious. "Okay, so I'm close. I guess I'd consider her a friend." That hurt to say and he didn't want to investigate why. "Why?"

"Maybe you don't know, if you're only – Do you know why she's shy about a relationship?"

Fuck.

"I mean, we've gone out a few times, but." Logan sighed. "I just thought you might know. You're closer to her than anyone else."

"I don't know," Max said, trying his best to not sound annoyed. Watching Kevin, he slowed when the boy stopped to show his scooter off to Oscar. He spotted a Red Bull shirt up ahead and knew it was y/n, was certain when Kevin squealed and took off towards her, leaving Oscar holding his scooter. Stopping, he turned to Logan. "I don't know why, but I think it's because she's a single mom. His dad's not around at all, that's all I know."

Logan nodded. "Thanks, mate."

Max wrinkled his nose. "You've been around Alex and Oscar too much. It sounds weird when you say mate."

"I can't help it," he laughed. "Not enough Americans around here."

"There's a couple," Max said, nodding towards Kevin and y/n, who were slowly heading back towards them. And though it hurt, the words formed in his mouth. And though he didn't want to say them, they came out. "She likes you. Little mate likes you. I think… If you don't push her, it'll work out like it's supposed to."

"Really?" Logan looked over at her, and Max felt the usual bitterness in his chest when he smiled. "Thanks, Max."

It wasn't fair. Max knew that was something that only would be acceptable if Kevin were to say it, because only a three year old could make that statement and not be looked at with disdain. So he kept it to himself, swallowing down the jealousy as Logan moved first, taking up the boy's scooter and meeting y/n and Kevin. He felt unnecessary and wondered why he moved to join them when he could be heading to the motorhome to change his shoes and get ready to go back to the hotel for the night.

She reached out, smiling as she squeezed his arm. "Thanks so much for keeping an eye on him. I can tell he had an amazing time."

Suddenly he didn't feel useless. "We both did, but he was going stir crazy."

"I'm glad you took him out." She looked him up and down while Kevin jumped in a nearby puddle, encouraging Logan to join in. "Did he splash you?"

He looked down and saw the water and bits of mud splashed up his legs. "Ah, a little bit. Then I had to do it myself."

"You did?" she giggled, squeezing his arm again and letting go. "Oh I wish I could have seen that."

"I'll send you the video," he sighed as her hand slid down his arm.

"Mama, gotta pee."

"C'mon, kleine maat." Max reached for him, waving off her insistence that she could do it. "I've got to change anyway. I'll take care of it while you get your stuff packed."

"Thank you, Max," she said softly. "I just need to check in with the other admins about tomorrow then I'll be up."

He nodded, settling Kevin on his hip. The boy wrapped his arms around his neck, head resting on his shoulder as he was carried off. "Toilet then we'll get dry yeah? And—"

"Grote maat?"

"Yeah?"

Kevin sighed and Max wondered if he was just tired. It had been a long day and as far as he knew the boy hadn't had more than a thirty minute nap just after lunch. Or maybe he wasn't sure how to say whatever it was he wanted to say. "Nothin'," he finally mumbled.

"It's something," Max said gently, catching the closing door with one foot and pushing it open so he could enter the motorhome.

"I don't have a daddy," Kevin blurted once they were upstairs and Max was setting him down.

Max blinked, freezing for a few seconds. "Hasn't your mum talked to you about that?"

"No… Yeah. She said…" His face screwed up in thought.

And Max remembered he had to use the toilet. Guiding him into the bathroom, he turned his back to give him privacy, using the time to take off his coat and sodden shoes.

"Laura has a daddy," Kevin announced once he'd flushed.

It took him a couple seconds to remember who Laura was. "Yes… Her dad has the same name as you."

"But he's not my daddy."

"No, he's not," Max sighed. Picking up the discarded raincoat, he threw it over his shoulder and held the boy up at the sink so he could wash his hands. "What did your mum say?"

Kevin drew in a deep breath. "Not everybody gets a mama or a daddy. Some people get both." He shook the water from his hands and stretched to get a paper towel, his expression far too serious for one so young. "I love mama."

Max swallowed the unbidden lump of emotion in his throat. "I know you do, kleine maat. She loves you too."

"Mister Logan likes her."

Max inhaled slowly and let it out even slower. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, setting Kevin down and ushering him from the bathroom. "But that—"

"Do you think he'd be my daddy?"

"I don't—"

"You like mama."

Oh no. No. He had to put a stop to this. "I—"

There was a gentle knock on the door and Max would have gladly kissed whoever was on the other side. "We'll talk later, yeah?" he promised in a rush, moving to wrench open the door and more relieved to see y/n than he should have been.

"Hey," she said, slipping past him. "Alright, doodle bug, let's get ready to go, okay?"

"I'm just gonna… Change," Max said, still numb from Kevin's assertion. Grabbing a clean set of clothes from his suitcase, he carried them into the bathroom and closed the door with a sigh.

Maybe spending so much time with the kid was a bad idea. Obviously he thought that time together equaled a father figure, and since that would never happen, he should pull back. Let her be happy with Logan. Or not. Whichever path she chose wouldn't include him, so there was no need for him to continue to stick around.

He could hear them talking softly, wondered what Kevin was telling her about his afternoon. Wondered what her reaction would be to her son suddenly wanting a father. He had probably brought it up before, so she would just deflect or give him her usual answer, and—

"Max? Have you got his raincoat?"

He blinked, saw the bright blue coat he'd tossed over the sink. "Yeah, sorry. A couple of his cars are in here, too. Just a minute."

"No rush, I'm making him change into dry clothes." Her voice faded as she walked away from the door.

When he came out a few moments later, Kevin was pouting as she worked a comb through his hair. Wordlessly he draped the raincoat over the back of the chair and dropped the cars into Kevin's bag then made sure to give the boy a quick smile while smoothing his own hair.

"Want Mister Max to fix it," Kevin said suddenly and Max grunted in surprise when the boy suddenly bolted towards him.

Y/n shrugged, tossing the comb to him. Sitting back on her heels, she rolled her shoulders then bent to make sure none of Kevin's toys were hiding under the couch.

Kneeling down, Max shared a smile with Kevin and began to gently work the comb through his unruly curls. "Your mum has more experience with this than me," he whispered.

"But she's tired. Work," Kevin whispered back.

He almost laughed, wondering what Kevin considered his own work that day. "Do you know what she does?"

Kevin shrugged. "It's on her phone. Pictures and movies for the online people."

"Bit more than that, but yeah. And she's very good at it," Max promised, focusing on guiding the curls back from the boy's face.

"Can you do it? Or do you just drive?"

So that was what he did. Just drove. "No, I can't do what she does." He felt her watching them and looked over at her. "She's the only one who can do it."

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

"Taxes!" Kevin answered with a giggle.

Max grinned, shaking his head as he finished combing his hair. Aware of her disbelieving look, he shrugged. "You heard him, we're talking about taxes."

"What about taxes?" She narrowed her eyes.

"They suck," Kevin said with all the certainty only a child could produce.

Max tipped his head. "Exactly."

She snorted, taking the comb and slipping it into her bag. "You're lying but whatever. Let's get your—" She stopped, because Max was already helping Kevin with his raincoat.

"Keep your hood up outside, yeah? You don't want cold ears." Max sat down fully, stretching to get a dry pair of shoes from his suitcase. "Do you need a ride back to the hotel?"

"I was just gonna Uber," she said, zipping up the bag of Kevin's things. "Gotta stop and get some dinner, so—"

"Y/n."

"Hm?" She looked at him as he stood. And sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Okay. He cleared his throat and grabbed his jacket. "Unless you and Logan…"

"No." She looked on while he moved to help Kevin with his rain boots. "He's… Got stuff on his mind."

"The car?" Max guessed, seeing her nod. "I don't blame him. It's fucking shit."

"Max!"

"It is," he said with a shrug. "He'd have better luck with a bicycle."

"That might be true, but—"

"He's good," Max told her. "It's not him, it's the team and the cars. They brought him up too soon and when he wasn't immediately amazing they lost faith in him. You can't earn points if the team is constantly shitting on you."

"Max," she hissed.

And he felt himself blush. "Sorry," he mumbled to Kevin.

"Mama says it too," the boy told him.

"The point is—"

"Vowles is stupid, that's what the point is. Instead of supporting his driver he's telling the world he's looking for someone new. He favors Alex, gives him the better car, and leaves Logan to struggle." Max straightened and sighed. "Logan's not perfect on the track, y/n, but he would be improving if his team believed in him and helped him learn."

"I know," she whispered sadly. "He's—" She pressed her lips together. "Are we even supposed to talk about it?"

They probably weren't, but he didn't care. "Doesn't matter. He's what?"

"He's worried about next year. He loves this," she said. "It's what he's worked so hard to get to, and now it's slipping away."

And Max knew she was falling for the American. She, who'd known the man for barely a month, showed more concern for him than the so-called team he drove for. He wondered if Logan had any idea. "I'm sorry," he said softly. When she looked at him doubtfully, he sighed. "I really am, y/n. But we've got more than half the season to go. Don't give up hope, yeah?"

"I'll do my best," she murmured. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Worry," he finished with a nod. "I know. C'mon, let's go, yeah? Get him some dinner before he falls asleep."

"Not sleepy," Kevin said, ruining the announcement by yawning.

"We were talking about you," Max murmured once they were in the back seat of the car and on their way from the track.

"What?" The fading daylight was just enough for him to see her look over at him.

"Taxes."

"Oh." She chuckled, shifting Kevin in her lap as he leaned against her. "That's what I always tell him when me and Ellie are talking about something I don't want him to know."

"Good idea." He looked down at his phone, replying to the messages he'd been ignoring from his father. "Did you know I just drive?"

"Yeah, you should really start doing Uber," she teased.

He snorted. "Sixty or seventy laps, three hundred kilometers an hour. Practically a Sunday drive in the country."

"Well… Isn't it usually?"

"You're not funny," he muttered, ignoring his fathers lengthy questions about strategy and stats for the weekend and opening his messages with Christian.

"I'm hilarious. You just have no sense of humor."

"The groundhogs at the track are funnier than you – Ay!" he laughed when she shoved his shoulder.

"You're such an ass, Max."

"Y/n," he gasped in mock shock, pointedly looking at Kevin.

Kevin, who was almost asleep.

"Fine, you're such a butt, Max," she corrected.

To his delight, they playfully bickered all the way to the restaurant she'd ordered their dinner from. And from there all the way to the hotel. It was fun and playful, and kept Kevin from falling asleep, and he reveled in making her laugh so hard as they climbed out of the car at the hotel, turning to get Kevin. Max waved her off, holding the boy and pausing to greet some of the fans waiting, ignoring their questions about who Kevin was. He had a sinking feeling that the photos – and movies, as Kevin called them – would be plastered online before he reached the elevator and wondered if he should have let her carry her son inside. But she had to know it would happen, and he could only hope the fans online would be polite.

"Thanks, Max," she said when he carried Max into her hotel room. He opened his mouth to say she was welcome, but she continued, "I don't mean just this. You've done more than anyone would have expected you to for me the past couple days."

While she spoke she unpacked her and Kevin's food, and Max instinctively moved to help Kevin out of his boots and jacket, sending him to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I really don't mind."

"You sure?" she asked, looking up from her phone.

"I like—" he stopped when there was a knock on the open door.

Apparently Logan didn't have too much stuff on his mind. Exchanging a nod in greeting, Max looked away, his lightened mood dimming as y/n spoke to him, insisting he come in and eat, she'd gotten an extra burger. Despite Logan's assertion that he was fine, she had him seated at the small table in no time and Max wondered how it felt, to be fussed over so affectionately. Kevin, even though he was tired, greeted the man with exuberance, and at least he knew what that was like, and wondered if he looked that happy when the boy climbed into his lap.

"I should get going," he said, feeling like a third wheel. Like he was intruding on a private moment.

She looked ready to say he didn't have to, but nodded. "Okay. Thanks again, Max."

"Anytime," he promised.

"How do I look?"

"Amazing."

Y/n huffed. "You didn't look!"

"Sorry!" Ellie turned from the counter and her eyes widened. "Holy shit."

"Too much?" she fretted, tugging at the hem of the black dress. She would swear it had been a few inches longer in the shop.

"What's the end goal for tonight?" her friend asked.

"Dinner?" she answered slowly.

"And what else?"

She sighed. "It's just dinner, El."

Ellie leaned to make sure Kevin wasn't coming into the kitchen and lowered her voice. "Have you slept with him yet?"

"Ellie."

"I'll take that as a no." Ellie nodded. "Then it's perfect."

"What does that mean—"

"He's tall, so put on your highest heels. And since your tits are out and we're not in Carolina, grab my shawl. That blue one, it looks great with your eyes."

"My tits are not out."

"Please, one good sneeze and you'll be flashing him." Ellie smiled knowingly. "It's okay to want to have sex, you know."

Y/n huffed again, reaching to run her hands through her hair but stopping when she remembered how long she'd worked on the simple updo. So she settled for an annoyed gesture. "I know that. I just – He – I'm – El, it's been four years. And last time—"

"Not every guy is a Josh," Ellie said gently. "Give yourself some credit, babes. You were young and a little dumb, and now you're older and wiser."

"I know," she sighed.

"You worry too much. You like Logan, he likes you. He and Kevin like each other. You've been seeing him for over a month now."

Nodding, y/n opened her mouth. But her best friend kept talking.

"He's a good guy. Stop holding him at arm's length."

"But what if—"

"What if you let yourself have a little fun for the first time since you got pregnant with Kev? What if you put yourself first even if it's just for one night? What if you have the best night that makes the four hours of getting ready worth it? What if—"

"Okay, okay, okay! Point made," she said with a groan. "It was three hours."

"You really hate admitting when I'm right." Ellie crossed the small kitchen and hugged her. "You look great, sweetie. He'll drool even more than he already does when he sees you."

"Ew…"

"Fine." Ellie squeezed her tight. "No woman has ever looked more gorgeous than you look tonight, and no woman ever will. Traffic will stop, heads will turn, and everyone who sees you will wish they could be graced with one of your smiles."

"That's better." She laughed softly, hugging her friend back. "Okay, he should be here soon, I've got to get my shoes."

"And the shawl."

And the shawl. By the time she found it in Ellie's closet she was nervous, palms sweating as she fixed it around her shoulders and checked and rechecked and then triple-checked her appearance in the full length mirror. He was there, she could hear him talking to Kevin and she took several calming breaths, jumping when Ellie entered her bedroom.

"Here," her friend said, reaching to slip something into her purse.

"What—"

"Just in case. He is from Florida."

Y/n looked at what she'd dropped inside and slapped her friend's arm. "Ellie."

"Come on, before Kevin gets him to watch Cars again."

Sighing, she nodded and closed her purse after making sure she had everything. Logan was on the sofa with Kevin and her breath caught a little, both at how patiently he was listening to her son 'read' his book and at how handsome he was. She was so used to seeing him dressed casually so each time he wore something other than jeans and a hoodie it was a pleasant surprise.

"You look gorgeous," he said when they were outside. He'd said great upstairs and she still felt the surge of feminine adrenaline over how he'd stared for a full ten seconds before speaking.

"Thank you." His palm burned the small of her back as he guided her to the waiting car, and when he opened the door for her he sighed her name. She wondered if it was a good thing to start a date with a kiss and decided that it was. Because it made her feel gorgeous. Great. Beautiful.

Wanted.

Driving to the restaurant, his hand strayed to her knee and she covered it with hers, meeting his eyes when he stopped the car.

"Are we still figuring it out?" he asked softly, turning his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I think we already have," she answered, swallowing when his hand squeezed.

Wondering why it wasn't as scary as she'd thought it would be.

Taglist:

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #logan sargeant #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #logan sargent x reader #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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lovelytsunoda · 3 months

Text

(what’s the story) morning glory // lando norris

summary: noel gallagher’s daughter has a reputation for two things: being the funniest woman on the internet, and really having a thing for american guys. to the delight of all, she shows up at one of her dads concerts with a boy from bristol on her arm.

pairing: lando norris x gallagher!reader

yngallagher just posted!

northern quarter, manchester, united kingdom

liked by oliviarodrigo, heatherbarongracie and 3,457 others

yngallagher break through the barrier - tina turner

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user mommy? sorry, mommy. sorry!

user she really is that bitch

user real question: is she united or city?

-> yngallagher would you hate me if i said neither?

yngallagher just posted!

manchester, england

liked by noelgallagher, rollingstone and 4,170 others

yngallagher acquiesce - oasis

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yourbestie SLAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

noelgallagher it was an honor sharing the stage with you, my wonderful daughter

-> yngallagher awe love you too dad!

user is it just me or did it look like she was blowing kisses to someone off stage?

-> user no ur so right someone was definitely there for her

user yn could single-handedly bring oasis back together

entertainmentbuzzmanchester

liked by 984 users

entertainmentbuzzmanchester YN Gallagher spotted last night in the VIP area of her fathers Manchester show cozying up to this unidentified man. Gallagher, who performed at the show, was later seen leaving the arena with the same man.

see all comments

user has she finally found her american prince?

user we’ve lost her to a fucking yank y’all! the hold that eighties matt dillon had on her was too much!

stacey_spacey I’ve seen that shitty haircut somewhere before

yngallagher posted to her story!

landonorris so born jovi is better than me?

yngallagher maybe maybe not ;) listen i'm ready to hard launch whenever you are, but don't feel like we need to rush things

yngallagher you have my dad's approval, and where i come from that's like being knighted

yngallagher just posted!

liked by noelgallagher, caitybaser and 2,391 others

yngallagher my daddy likes him so you guys should too :) silvo dump is incoming, just have to get some film developed

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user hottie

user now that's defo lando norris fight me

-> user idk bro it seems like a reach to connect them together

-> user yes but have you seen the twitter thread by user stacey_spacey? she makes some good points

noelgallagher im just gald you aren't dating an american. i wish he was from manchester, but beggars can't be choosers

noelgallagher im just kidding, darling. glad youre happy xx

yngallagher just posted!

tagged: landonorris

liked by landonorris, stacey_spacey, noelgallagher and 5,000 others

yngallagher . . . surprise!

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user holy shit

charles_leclerc what the fuck

-> oscarpiastri what the fuck

-> carlossainz55 what the actual fuck

-> alex_albon what the literal fuck

-> yngallagher why are you guys being so mean to pookie?

stacey_spacey i was right HAHAH

landonorris you're my wonderwallll

-> yngallagher i love you too my sexy loser boyfriend

-> oscarpiastri what is wrong with both of you

user lmao why is everyone so shocked?

-> maxfewtrell when i saw them together at silverstone i was certain it was like a joke or a pr thing?

user he looks like he negotiated with god to be allowed on earth

#lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #ig aus #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #Spotify

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lavendermunson · 1 year

Text

dancing with our hands tied — eddie munson

୨ৎ ˙ ˖

summary Eddie seems to live in constant hell except when he is with you.

tags +18. eventual smut. friends to best friends to lovers. angst. pining. no upside down. slight chrissy x eddie and jealous reader. fingering. p in v without protection; be smart irl. no use of y/n, eddie calls reader peach. lose of virginity.

tw eddie has an older brother who punches him. slight mentions of blood and violence. alcohol. mention of drugs. if i forgot anything lmk!

w.c 7.6 k

a/n hey people! it’s the first time i write something like this. the fic is divided in tiny chapters that are titled by the lines of taylor’s song (see title) i hope it’s easy to understand and let me know if you like the format ♡ enjoy!

I. First sight, we love without reason.

It came to you as a surprise, really. The moment he sat down on the nearest seat to start the tutoring lesson. The secret is Eddie has always been good at English, it’s a thing among others that he kept as a secret. You weren’t sure why he would hide it, even lie about it.

You and Eddie became friends easily. But you wish the relationship had more meaning, you weren’t friends just school friends. The worst kind of friend you could be with someone as cool and pretty as Eddie.

One day, in the early morning of a cloudy Thursday Eddie attended school with a black eye. He rushed past you mumbling a kind Hey and going his way. You said hi back but it was too late, he was gone.

You missed him the rest of the day, he didn’t show up to class. His friends were alone at lunch. There was no sign of Eddie until later, tutoring sessions.

He slumps on the chair next to you, taking a deep breath and scratching his scalp nervously. His hands were shaking as he started to scribble on your textbook.

Your mind wasn’t focused on the textbook once, you looked longingly at the maroon-tinted bruise on his eye. A cut, maybe 12 hours old, rested on the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting” you whispered “I can’t keep my eyes off…your… are you okay, Eddie?” you pointed your finger at his eye, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Yeah, no don’t worry” he sighs, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair and taking a deep look at your face.

Your mouth has formed a pout and your brows are furrowed, Eddie tried to read your mind and he succeeded. You were worried.

“My stupid older brother, he comes in unexpectedly, and when I tried to kick him out of the trailer he punched me”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Eddie” You lean your head to the side, his face looks better from this angle.

He looks tired, the punch looks like it hurts a lot, more if it came from a person of his own bloodline.

“You know what, we can study another time and you can go rest” Your hands are quick to close the textbook, gathering all your stuff as Eddie’s body comes closer to you.

He takes your wrist on his hand, with a little more pressure than intended. When your mouth leans to the side he realizes he is hurting you (not too much, but still he didn’t mean it).

“No, I'm sorry” he drops your hand on your lap, delicately “We can study, I'm fine. Please I need the money”

“I know, I will pay you. But I can’t sit here and I can't focus knowing you are in pain or your mind is somewhere else” You smile at him, and he nods.

“Thanks…I'm having a really bad day. I cannot thank you enough, tomorrow we can study double I promise”

“Don’t worry, I got you” You head out of the library beside him “Take care of that, it looks like it’s going to stay there for a while”

He giggles at your comment, you are not sure why. You pay him for today and he smiles at you.

“Thank you, Peach”

He didn’t talk about his family much, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was something interesting to talk about. His mom left a few years ago, along with his older brother, leaving little Eddie and Uncle Wayne alone.

You knew Wayne from one of Eddie’s stories he told you about. He loves the man like he is his own father, but he is in a lot of debt with him.

Wayne takes care of Eddie as if he’s his own child. He surely loves Eddie like that. He works most of the day and night leaving his nephew alone in the trailer park.

One of those cold and lonely nights Eddie’s brother came to visit him at the trailer park only seeking some money. He was out of luck, and so was Eddie, when his furious brother came in and punched him in the face. Not once, but twice.

Eddie’s head and face hurt the rest of the night. He unfortunately overslept and didn’t get a chance to start school properly so he chose to show up just to the tutoring sessions. He needed the cash, you needed help.

II. Picture of your face in an invisible locket.

A week has passed since Eddie’s brother came to town. You’ve grown closer to Eddie than before.

You hang out after school now that tutoring lessons are over, he invites you to Hellfire Club to watch the campaigns and you sit there watching the whole thing unravel. He had a great imagination, and a wonderful mind full of creative stories and riddles. The kids enjoy his company as much as you do.

He talked about his problems at home with you, trying to get the ugly feeling out of his chest. You listened to him buying him a cup of ice cream and enjoying the wonderful summer breeze.

“I enjoy being with you,” he said “You are a great friend, Peach”

You smiled at him. He smiled at you. His dimples showed up for the first time since you’ve known him, a simple gesture that knocked some sense on you, you had a crush on him.

“Me too, Eds”

Your relationship with Eddie has evolved, not only do you have pet names for each other but it seems like you are best friends. It’s been some weeks since the first time he offered to tutor you and you accepted immediately.

You’ve always liked Eddie, he is his true self every time and he is proud of it.

You admire it.

People at school used to call him awful names, it was always like that until he met Chrissy. The popular kids are the ones that make more fun of him as if it wasn’t exhausting for them to be assholes and jerks nine hours a day. They have toned their jokes down knowing that the queen of Hawkins has a soft place for Eddie and he is more than happy hanging out with her sometimes.

That made your heart ache, it was a dreadful feeling.

After spending some time with Eddie you went home. Still under that lavender haze of accepting that you had a crush on him for a while. It was embarrassing to you only because you were so, so obsessed with him.

His face. His hands. His scent. His hair. Realizing everything about him made you crazy was scary, he only had eyes for one person who was the most perfect cheerleader in the history of high school.

To distract your mind from all the lousy thoughts you took a shower, it was quick, you needed to brush off the sweat and release some tension with a thorough massage on your scalp. The lavender shampoo lingered in the air, relaxing every inch of your body.

After the shower, it was time to eat some dinner. Instead of making a complicated meal you decided to heat some leftovers from yesterday and enjoy your evening eating and dancing in the kitchen with some of your old records playing upbeat songs to cheer you up.

A knock on your door makes you jump after finishing dinner. No one used to come by at this hour, not when your dad was out of town.

You get close to the door and look through the peephole to see who’s interrupting your godly moment. It was Eddie.

A gasp falls out of your mouth and you open the door as quickly as possible. You meet Eddie’s trembling body standing in front of you, his lip is bleeding and his eyes are watering.

“God, Eds…” you whisper, he leans closer to you, wrapping his hands around your neck and hugging you.

You didn’t say anything else, just mirrored his movements and wrapped his waist with your arms. Taking a few steps back and leading him in, you close the door with your foot and he stands there, still not letting you go.

You rub his back as he tries to ease his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go so I-” he takes a step back breaking contact with you, his head falls as his eyes look at his feet.

“He, he did this to you again?” he broke contact so fast you decided to stay in your place, careful not to overwhelm him with unwanted touches.

“Yeah, shit shit, sorry I should've called. My mind sort of blacked out and the only thing I could remember was your street and the color of your house, the one with the weird birdhouse…”

“Eds, it’s okay” you interrupt “Let me help you, alright? let me clean your wound and make you some hot chocolate”

He nods, walking with you to the bathroom and past your bedroom. You are quick to find the first aid kit, taking some rubbing alcohol and gauze to clean Eddie’s cut. He hisses at the stingy feeling in his mouth, you apologize and he encourages you to continue.

And there you are, with the boy that you like so much. He leans on the counter closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel at peace with you around him.

You stand between his legs, his inner thighs rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs. The ungodly thoughts need to go away so you blink pretty fast, focusing, it’s not the moment nor the place nor the person.

You finish up cleaning his wound and placing a band aid over it to avoid any sort of discomfort while it heals.

“It’s ready” Eddie opens his eyes, finding you in front of him. So close. The white light in the bathroom makes you look like an angel.

“Thank you, peach” he squeezes your cheek slightly. Neither of you move from where you stand, so close to each other but so far at the same time.

“It’s nothing, let’s make you some chocolate”

“Wait, I'm not really hungry. I need to clear my mind and feel at peace for a bit, ‘m just gonna go back to my place to rest but again… thank you” he stands up straight and you step back, missing the heat of his body.

“No! you can’t go back, it's dangerous. My dad is out of town, you can stay here”

His head leans down to one side, he looks at you concerned.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for my best friend” you say. It’s the first time you call him like that. It’s the first time anybody has called him like that.

“Thank you, again, thank you”

“No problem, let me get you some fresh clothes”

You get Eddie some of your oversized clothes that only get out of your closet on rainy days. You give him some space to change and freshen up in the bathroom, getting him a new toothbrush and a towel so he can wash his face.

When he gets out you offer him the guest room, he immediately denies it and asks if he can sleep with you. You shake your head and show him a gentle smile.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or bother you” he asks while you get the bed ready to sleep.

“It’s okay, Eds. I get that you don’t want to be alone, do not worry”

You get in bed, he drops his body beside you. Both of you rest your head on the pillows while looking at the ceiling.

“You can stay here in the morning if you don’t want to go to school, I do have to go and hand in this paper I’ve been working on”

“Thank you, I owe you one,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting out a sigh.

“You don’t, I’m happy to help you” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, Eds”

“Goodnight, sweetheart”

The pet name falls from his lips so beautifully.

You close your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, aware that the heat of your cheeks is present leaving a pink tint.

You are thankful it’s dark and Eddie is about to fall asleep so he won’t notice.

When you fall asleep Eddie does too. It takes him a couple of seconds to get into a deep sleep, he hasn’t slept like this in weeks, all thanks to the torture of his stupid brother and the constant thought of him coming back to punch him.

He feels safe around you and he is more than grateful to be your friend.

III. ‘Cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me.

Eddie has been staying over at your house multiple times, Your dad is out of town and you appreciate the company, his company. Sometimes he comes with you right after school, other times after he hangs out with Chrissy. You are not sure of what kind of relationship they have but it still hurts your heart every time he laughs at something she says.

You are thankful for having him over. The nights consist of movies, old tv shows, watching the commercials on the tv, and listing in your head what to buy next for these reunions.

The last slice of pizza remains in the box, it should be cold and washy but

Eddie is fine with it. He watches you from the corner of his eye, your gaze glued to him.

“Sorry, did you want the last slice?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts into reality.

“Huh? No, no you have it”

“Sure?”

“I hate it when the pizza is cold” Your mouth falls to the side, and you look at the slice with disgust.

“Bummer, I’ll have this baby for myself”

He raises his hand with the slice between his fingers, his head falls to the back and he takes a bite of the tip of the slice. You watch him in awe, not really thinking about how weird it is to watch Eddie eat, but your eyes can never leave his face. His mouth opens and his jaw tightens when he takes a bite, and another, and another until he finishes it.

“Don’t know why you pushed this aside, it was so good”

The corner of his mouth is full of tomato sauce and cheese grease, you laugh at him shaking your head.

“You have something… there” you point with your finger, Eddie furrows his brows and leans his head to the side looking like a confused puppy.

“Where? Here?” He wipes his mouth and smiles victorious, although it is the opposite side.

“No, here”

You get closer to him. His body is fully turned to the left so you sit in front of him kneeling.

He watches you getting close, he takes a deep breath as his Adam’s apple bobs as a result of his own nerves. You are too close, you’ve never been this close –just once when he hugged you – not even when you two are sleeping in your bed.

As you take the napkin to clean his face you get the opportunity to get closer, you wipe his mouth slowly and pinch his chin between your fingers. You breathe and he is mixing up, the room feels suddenly too hot.

Eddie wants to give in, he gets his head closer. He doesn't care about anything, just you. The only source of light is the TV which gives a shadow of multiple colors on your face, it’s adorable. Your body, your naked thighs, your pretty face so close. He is about to kiss you until you speak.

Shit.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot”

“How do you punch someone?” you ask, he shakes his head confused shaking off the thoughts he had earlier. He was so close to kissing you, but he couldn’t. You are his best friend.

“Wow,” Eddie laughs, grinning “Who do you want to punch, exactly?”

“I met someone”

Your news hit Eddie in the chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this but he is… jealous?

“He told me to go to this party with him… and a friend told me I should be prepared for everything”

“Everything? Like if he wants to get in your pants you’d punch him?”

“Only if he is a real jerk and thinks he is too smart”

Eddie nods, he takes your hands in his standing up from the couch. You follow him.

“Alright, pay attention”

He drops one of your hands and takes your dominant hand in his, the cold rings on his fingers keep you from falling apart from his touch.

“The secret is in your hips and shoulders, that’s where the power comes from okay?”

“Yeah, but please don’t teach me how to kill someone. I just want to throw a little punch if needed”

“I know, peach” he laughs “Stand up like this” His stance looks professional, maybe he has done this before. Maybe to protect himself from his older brother.

“First things first, your stance gives you balance so you don’t fall to the floor and break your nose too y’know?”

“Am I going to break his nose?” you ask, a little scared of what you are getting yourself into.

“No! ‘M just saying. You don’t have a lot of strength to do that, don’t worry”

“Like this?” You mimic his stance, feeling a little awkward.

"Exactly. Now, focus on your fist” He hasn’t dropped your hand yet “Curl your fingers in, and tuck your thumb under them. This way, you won't hurt your hand when you punch”

“Why do I feel like I shouldn't be learning this?”

“You are fine, watch” Your hands form a perfect fist, Eddie holds it in his hands and tries to set you up on the perfect stance. Your knuckles turn a bit white as you focus on the lesson “See? Perfect”

“I got it”

"Now punch me,” he says, he is serious.

“What?”

“C’mon I’ve taken the worst punches, bet yours will feel light as a feather” he grins. Inside he feels dumb for aching your touch so much even if it means taking a hit “Twist your body and extend your arm in a straight line, then go straight to my cheek” his fingertip touches his cheek “Not my nose! Please” he remarks, but at the same time he is encouraging you.

“Alright,” you do as he says, swinging your arm back and forth. Your fist comes into contact with his cheek and he groans in pain, his head falls to one side.

“Jesus H. Christ!” he caresses his cheek with the palm of his hand “I underestimated you” A chuckle falls from his lips, and you are covering your mouth with your hands surprised. Your eyes are glassy.

“No, no don’t cry I’m fine”

“I’m so sorry Eddie. I thought- fuck, I didn’t see that coming! I am so fucking-sorry, sorry” you cry, your cheeks glow red as embarrassment washes over you.

“No, don’t” he is still laughing “Oh god, come here”

Eddie opens his arms and wraps them around your shoulders. This is the second time you hug him, and this time it feels different. One of his hands rubs your back to calm you down as you keep murmuring sorry. He keeps thinking you are the most adorable thing on the planet.

“Do we count this as tutoring? Am I getting cash for getting punched in the face?” he chuckles.

You bury your face in his chest, hugging his body tightly. He feels you trying to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah if you want”

“I'm joking, peach, you did good!”

You smile at the praise, although he can’t see it.

“Thank you for teaching me”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was a pleasure” he breaks the hug, and his hands come to rest on your arms. He is not giving up touching you “I hope whoever you punch… you do it harder than this one” he smiles.

As you watch his face, hypnotized, you smile back.

“I will, only if he is a jerk…”

“Or thinks he is too smart, gotcha” he interrupts, filling up the rest of the sentence “But you know if someone bothers you, you can call me and I will kick his ass right?”

“I’m a big girl, Eds. I can take care of myself”

“That I see! ‘M just offering, You did good honey” He pinches your cheek, and the new pet name hits right above your stomach where your anxiety rests. He has never called you that before, you feel the heat on your cheeks.

“We- uhm, we should sleep is getting late” You watch the clock, it is 3 am already.

“Oh shit, yeah. Let’s go”

IV. I’m a mess but i’m the mess that you wanted.

Watching Eddie kissing Chrissy was a punch on the tits. His hands are on her waist, she grabs his jacket getting closer. Their mouths were glued to each other. You were sure this was the night, this was the night you would tell Eddie your feelings, but instead, you decided to meet up with the guy you told him about. Ignoring your feelings for Eddie.

Nothing ever comes out as you wish, after punching the guy for trying to touch your ass after he didn’t even know you were in his math class, you punched him. Your hand hurts, but it was worth it.

You try to find Eddie but he isn’t around. Ignoring the feeling in your chest, you decide to fill the guilt and the secrets with alcohol.

After a lot of refills, the living room’s bottles are empty so you make your way around the house to find more. That’s when you find Eddie, you take your sixth? seventh? Cup of the night and walk to him.

“Eds!”

Your voice is like honey to him, he didn’t want to be here but as soon as Chrissy mentioned you were coming with “the guy” he wanted to be there. She was nowhere to be seen after spending some time with him.

“I did it! I punched him!” you mumble, proud of your achievement and so, so drunk.

“Fuck, I missed it?”

“Yeah, I have been looking for you everywhere to tell you” You lie, you’ve seen him multiple times and ignored him. It was a decision that sober you took. Drunk you is a little more insistent “I didn't think you were coming”

“Chrissy wanted to be here, I'm just keeping her company… was, she left” he looks around, but she is still somewhere else.

Her name rings in your ears, your stomach crumbles.

“Well, let’s get drunk!”

Deep down Eddie is grateful that the guy you were meeting up with fucked up everything and now you are with him. Chrissy is nowhere to be seen and you seem like you need someone to watch you. Take care of yourself.

You are so drunk, your whole body feels light and your head is in the clouds. Maybe you are a little bit high too.

“Can we find somewhere more quiet? I wanna smoke” Eddie finds himself screaming, the music getting louder with the minutes.

“Sure, let’s go”

You hold a red solo cup with something in it, enough to make you more tipsy. You follow Eddie outside, to the porch. The night is hot and Eddie realizes your dress is too short. He takes a deep breath, looking at your thighs as you take a sip from the cup.

Eddie lights a cigarette and takes a peek at the party from outside, The window leaves a space so the warm light of the house hits your face. The night at your house, the one when he almost kisses you comes back to his head. A side of your face lit up by the chaos inside, yet you look so peaceful, so beautiful.

“I need more of this. I- shit I forgot the n-name” you slur your words again, taking a step forward. Eddie takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“What the fuuuuck?” you say.

“I think that’s enough for today, let’s go home”

Your whole body is on fire, all of your insides begging for more alcohol.

“Home? What? I didn’t know we lived together!”

“C’mon, peach. You know what I mean” Eddie’s cigarette bounces on his mouth, his voice is firm and his free hand comes to cup your waist.

“No, no. Let’s go dance here” You take his hand, the alcohol makes you bold. He follows you to the living room after dropping his cigarette.

The music is too loud, you empty the cup you had and throw it away.

“I’ll be right back, need to take a piss'” Eddie says, disappearing. You don’t hear him.

His “girlfriend” is still ignoring him, but he remembers what she said. She got mad because he was looking for you, and she got jealous too. Chrissy wanted all the attention but Eddie was giving it to you.

He stopped eating lunch with her, he was with you instead. Talking about random tv commercials that you thought were clever, it was some of an inside joke.

As he comes back from the bathroom he hears a crowd cheering, he is so done with this party, tired of the happy sappy music playing over and over, and the smell of sweat and alcohol makes him sick. He makes an effort to find you and he does.

There you are, standing on the table dancing. You were dancing, making some sexual moves that all the guys were screaming. Your hips move as the music gets to your ears, the whole room electrified by this little show.

Eddie’s face goes beet red, he can’t take this. He isn’t enjoying this.

Jealousy takes over him and he grabs your hand, yanking you down and letting you fall on his shoulder.

He carries you away from the table, a hand comes behind your back and he places his palm on your ass in an attempt to stop your dress from going up. You feel the cold of his rings again, your whole body lights up in anger as he carries you outside.

“Let me down! Eddie, I'm not joking!”

“Whine for as long as you want, I’m taking you home”

“Eddie please, I'm going to throw up”

He gives up, he lets you down and you pick up your breath. You place a hand on your belly trying to steady yourself and make the nausea go away.

“I need a moment… just give me a–”

“No! I know you will go back inside. You can’t even walk by yourself”

“Yes, I can! Don’t- don’t try to babysit me” you bicker.

He lets out a deep sigh, he is not letting you go back and you know it.

He wants to protect you, but more, he wants you to be with him and not dancing and showing off for anybody else. Yes, he was jealous and it was time to admit it. His feelings for Chrissy were never as intense as what he feels when he is with you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that!” you scream, his eyes open wide.

“Please just-”

He tries to hug you but you don’t let him.

“I'm not your sweetheart! The other day you called me like that too and I- what are you doing to me?”

“I don’t- fuck, what are you talking about?” Eddie is confused, you are acting like you don’t want him around, and that hurts him.

“I- I like you, Eddie! I fucking like you so bad but you… You don’t and I know it!” you have no time to breathe, the alcohol encourages you to confess your feelings.

“Peach-”

“No! No, I- I like you since that first day of tutoring… I’ve liked you since then and you don’t know how fucking hard it is to oh- sleep with you and you- almost fucking kissed me and I panicked. This, you, her- it’s too much ah- go away!” you cry out, your head is spinning and you can feel your temples aching.

This wasn’t planned, future you will kill you for this. But right now in the heat of the moment, you let Eddie know how you feel. Your whole body aches and your heart is shattered.

“I know you like her! Just- I don't want to talk to you right now!”

A salty taste lingers in your mouth, your tears. Your arms ache from the sudden cold breeze as the night gets darker. It’s maybe two or three in the morning. You are drunk and high. Eddie’s brain seems to stop working.

He is quiet, looking at the grass under his feet. It hurts seeing you like this.

“Fuck!” you turn around and start walking, thinking you can walk home from here knowing it’s impossible.

“Hey! Let me take you home”

You stop.

“Please, I won't stay. I’ll drop you off and go to my trailer- you can’t get home by yourself” he is right.

You don’t move. Too heartbroken to say everything else or even turn around to see him. You are ashamed, he can’t even look you in the eyes.

He sees you waiting for him and he asks you to follow him to his van.

The ride home is long and torturous. He didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you don’t blame him. Who could fall for a mess like you?

You fall asleep in the passenger seat of his van, he opens the door carefully and carries you to your bed. He wants to change your clothes but he knows it is not okay, he does peek at your naked thighs before covering your body with the sheets.

His calloused fingers move the hair off your face “I like you too, peach” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. You can’t hear him of course, he knows it damn well.

V. Deep fears that the world would divide us.

The last time you talked to Eddie was two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to talk to you since that night, he didn’t know what to tell you. It is now summer break, you are in your bed facing the ceiling and letting the air from your window hit your sweaty body.

You were so bored. Without Eddie it feels like the world just turned gray, you regret everything you said that night. He never should’ve known.

He is now in his trailer, maybe with Chrissy. Your brain starts to think of a hundred scenarios. They could be spending time at the local pool, going to starcourt and eating ice cream, trying on some new clothes, or playing at the arcade.

You miss him. Your whole body aches without him by your side. Your bed feels so empty.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, you are all alone in this gigantic house. It doesn’t feel like home, not without him.

You can’t pick a book and read it to kill time because every book you own is about romance.

You can’t watch movies without Eddie’s sudden comments.

You can’t even watch fucking commercials without him.

So you just let yourself on your bed, waiting for the sheets to swallow you whole.

Night came by after a nap, it was time to close the windows to stop the mosquitoes. It was time to eat so you headed down to the kitchen, the leftovers seem to always keep you company.

You wish he came back. Knocking at your door and getting in. Kissing you.

It doesn’t happen. To you. But it can happen to him.

You take your keys in your hands and head down to the trailer park, it isn’t that late so you go by yourself. With your clammy hands tapping on the steering wheel and a feeling of uncertainty.

It takes you from ten to fifteen minutes to get there and you park your car close to Eddie’s trailer. You’ve given him a ride home before, you know where he lives.

As you get closer to his trailer you hear screams. The door of his trailer opens suddenly and makes you jump. A tall and slightly old man comes out of the trailer, his white tank top is covered with some blood.

No, no, no. You mumble under your breath and run to the trailer. You find Eddie with a cut on his lip, his eye is purple already and his nose is bleeding.

“Eddie?” you whisper, he panics.

“No, no you can’t be here” he gets up from the floor and places his hands on your arms, pushing you out.

“Why? Please I just want to talk”

“You can’t be here! He- if he does something to you I’m never going to forgive myself Please just leave” his breath quickens, and his chest rises up and down. He is nervous, he is scared. The feelings are contagious.

“Come with me, please. Eds-”

“Just fucking leave! please please please, leave right now”

Nothing you do is going to convince him you should stay, as much as you want to. You hear screams of an angry man getting close to the trailer.

Running out back to your car and driving home, the radio becomes an annoying background noise screeching. Your heart is beating so fast out of fear, and your hands are trembling.

You set yourself down on your bed once you get home. You are scared of what could happen to Eddie. You know he is in danger and you also know he doesn’t want to see you.

The tears come back, your eyes are blurry and the walls feel like they are closing in and are about to crush you. You cover yourself with the sheets, as some type of protection, just like when you were little and scared. Yes, you are scared now, so fucking scared. But there is nothing you can do now so you sleep, and you fall asleep crying, again.

VI. I'd kiss you as the lights went out.

The next day goes by quickly, it’s currently midnight and you are sitting in front of the tv watching a random documentary about dolphins. You’ve slept all day so sleep is not an option. A huge bucket of ice cream in your hands gives you a cold feeling of serenity.

A knock on the door makes you jump, the thing you’ve been waiting for.

You open it quickly, and Eddie is there. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, some of his wounds have healed since yesterday.

“Before you say anything… I am sorry, sweetheart” You don’t let him in, and he doesn’t take a step forward “I like you too. I like you so much. I tried to date Chrissy because I thought I could get my mind distracted by the fact that I'm crazy for you. "He licks his lips, he moves his hands in the air as he always does when he explains something or rambles about a thing he loves.

“I was scared to tell you, that night at the party I swear all I could think about was- fuck, I wanted to rip those clothes off of you and kiss every part of your body but I was fucking terrified” his chest rises up and down, his heart is bumping in his ribcage. “I didn’t want to say anything because

I didn’t want to lose you, You are too good to me and I didn’t want you to be with someone like me-”

“You don’t get to make that choice for me” you interrupt, your own heart is beating so fast it could burst.

“I know, I know. That’s why I'm here… is it too late to hang out? Look, I slept all day and some little bird named Steve told me the sunrise at Lovers Lake looks awesome and I really just want to be with you”

You look at him, he is standing at your door confessing his love to you and, weirdly, it doesn’t feel like a dream. It all feels too real, too peaceful.

“A date at midnight? Did you plan this because you look like you even showered”

He lets out a big laugh. You see those dimples you love so much.

“I- I wouldn’t see it as a date because I think we’ve had tons of them” he shakes his head, and his curls bounce with the movement. “Pretty please? Join me on this adventure”

“We must be connected by some kind of thread because I slept all day too” you chuckle, he laughs with you “Sure, I want to be with you. Let me change and I’ll be right back”

You head upstairs quickly as Eddie goes back to his van for something.

With the quickest movements in the world, you manage to get yourself some pretty clothes, a tiny bit of makeup and fix your hair.

Running to the first floor to meet Eddie, your legs stop working as he stands up in your living room with a bouquet.

“You did have this prepared” You are smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt, but you can stop it. After days of missing him, he is now here and everything feels right.

“I did. You look- you look beautiful” he looks at you from the bottom to the top, taking every detail of your figure. “I mean, you always look so beautiful I just-”

You come closer to him, he hands you the bouquet and you take it.

“You are beautiful too, Eds”

Your fingers touch his cheeks, he feels the warmth and breathes in to take everything in. Your scent, your touch, the closeness. Your cheeks have a pink tint from blushing and it makes you look so pretty. He leans in and in a second, his lips are touching yours.

You gasp at the sudden feeling, your whole body electrifies. His hands come to rest on your lower back, keeping you close to him. Your hands travel to his shoulders as you stand on your tippy toes.

His lips trap your bottom lip, sucking in your taste. Your whole heart flutters as your head goes back to catch some air.

“I wanted to do that for so long”

Goosebumps travel from your arms to your lips, missing him already.

“Me too” you bite your lip.

“C’mon, let’s go watch the sunrise sweetheart”

VII. Deep blue but you painted me golden.

The trip to Lovers Lake in the middle of the night resulted in love confessions and a heavy make out session, Eddie packed the back of his van with christmas lights, sheets, and blankets along with some pillows.

You and Eddie sitting in front of each other, his lips crashing into yours as sweet as honey.

“So yeah- that time when you sat down and started tutoring me I fought so hard to pay attention but I just loved the sound of your voice” You take a sip of beer.

“It was hard to teach you when your confused face is just so adorable.

Every pout you gave me was a kiss I wanted to give you” Eddie laughs.

“You can give me all the kisses you want now, I'm all yours”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his face glows pink and you let out a chuckle.

“Honey, I will” he takes a sip from his own beer, finishing it.

Alcohol makes both of you giddy, dozy, and dumb. Or maybe it’s just the love you have for each other.

“What time is it?” you murmur against his lips, his hands travel from your waist to the back of your head.

“I have- no idea” he stops, with his head leaned slightly back he watches you. Your lips are puffy and pink, his too. Both of you have a maroon tint on your cheeks. “It’s almost six, we have time” he peeks at the clock on his left hand.

“Alright, c’mere” With your hands placed on his shoulders, you try to get closer to him.

You kiss him. He is addicted to your taste already.

This time the kiss is messy and uncoordinated. His teeth collide with yours, saliva drops from the corner of your mouth.

With a firm hand caressing your back, Eddie helps you fall back with your body pressed against the sheets. Your head rests on a pillow as he gets comfortable on top of you.

You can feel the van getting hotter, a cloud of passion and love around you. Eddie makes a quick move with his knee as it presses against your hot core.

Absent-mindedly you start to grind against his knee, feeling the combination of friction with his sloppy kisses sending chills through your spine.

His lips now travel all the way to your neck, he presses sweet wet kisses against your skin.

“Eddie-” you whisper, letting the air out of your lungs. “I want you”

You have been dreaming about this, he has been dreaming about this.

This moment. This very golden moment is going to live in your head forever.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his lips tingling your skin.

“I’m sure, please”

He takes a break from the kisses, looking at your sweet face.

“Have you ever…?” he asks.

“No,” you bite your lip nervously.

“I’ll take care of you, I promise”

You nod, and he returns to kissing your neck. One of his hands travels to your thighs, he gives a slight massage on them making his way closer to the heat between your legs.

His cock gets hard against his pants as he feels the wet spot between your legs.

“You are so soaking wet, peach-”

With both hands, he takes off your panties, gently. He is so gentle with you.

“And so, so pretty”

Eddie starts to rub your clit with his thumb, his circular motions make your toes curl. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. With his mouth pressed against your jaw two of his fingers get inside you slowly, the pain of it quickly goes away and turns into lust. His fingers move in and out, making sure not to hurt you and make you feel good.

Your back curls and your thigh touches the bulge on his pants.

“Eds, please”

“What do you want, princess? Say it”

“I want you to fuck me”

Your voice makes his heart flutter. He leans in to kiss you more as he curls your fingers inside you.

“Oh god, Ed-Eddie” you mewl, your head too giddy to make up words.

“Good girl” his voice is now deeper, and his pupils dilate as his body perks up with electricity.

His fingers leave your pussy, you whine and he tells you not to worry.

He is gentle on taking your clothes off, smiling after admiring every inch of you. He wets his lips with his tongue admiring your figure.

“You are so fucking beautiful, princess”

“You too, baby”

The mood has clearly changed, you are still so horny and whining for each other. But Eddie has decided to take his time to make you feel like the princess you are.

Your hands help him take his clothes off, you admire his bare chest and your eyes focus on his tattoos. When he takes his pants and boxers off it is inevitable for you to take a look.

Your mouth waters at the sight. Eddie caresses your cheek and leaves small kisses on your lips as he goes inside you. You feel his hot cock

inside you, it twitches as you stretch and leave out a louder moan.

A grin shows up on Eddie’s face as he thrusts into you. Your nails scratch his back slightly. He feels his skin burn.

“Feeling good?”

“Yes, god yes”

He groans at the same time he increases the speed. Your moans get louder and he kisses your neck again, his bare chest meets yours and you whimper. He is moving on top of you, his cock inside you, and his chest rubs your nipples.

The tiny knot in your stomach untangles as chills go down your spine. You moan as your orgasm comes to you.

“You are such a good girl, go on cum for me”

His words are sweet, he keeps praising you as you finally come.

“So so good baby, I’m going to-”

He moves back but your hands are quick to tangle around his neck, not letting him leave.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over me”

Your encouraging words get into Eddie’s head, his thrust becomes sloppier as he relaxes and he comes into you as requested.

The hot sticky combination of cum slides down your legs as Eddie hugs you and pulls you to him to the side. His back is now pressed against the dirty sheets, your head falls in his chest.

He kisses your forehead and runs his hand through your back.

The sun starts to show up.

Eddie leans forward to open the back doors of his van, he comes back to his place next to you as quickly as possible and hugs you harder.

The lake glows with a yellow tint, the water now shows a baby blue color.

“I love you, sweetheart”

Surprised you turn your head to look at him, you give him a big smile.

“I love you too”

You stay there a couple of minutes, touching each other and loving each other.

there it is! my little baby. feedback is appreciated REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! and DON’T throw a punch like it has been described!!!

tagging everyone who interacted, tysm 💕

@ali-r3n @witchwolflea @ghostlyfleur @littlegingerbat @live-love-be-unique @expiredcum21 @emma77645 @silent-stories @hellfirenacht @eddiemunson95 @tenthmoon

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