#I have barely any time to myself on weekends GIVE ME A BREAK!!

[blu3-ast3ri4]

Right so next part will be delayed since my laptop has decided to do THIS…

I mainly use it for proofreading and listening to music while I’m writing so this will obviously slow that process down, but I also use it a lot for school work as it’s easier on there rather than on my phone but NOW I’ll have to use my phone for school work until I get it fixed (hopefully?? We definitely cannot afford a new laptop rn this one already cost my mum almost £500)

So unfortunately I’ll have to move EVERYTHING over to my phone, which will certainly be a struggle with how small the screen is compared to my laptop and how much homework I actually need my laptop to be able to do💔💔 there will, again, be a slight delay in part 2 because of this

Sorry guys☹️☹️

[littlexdeaths]

she fuckin’ hates me - e.m.

enemy eddie munson x fem reader x crush steve harrington

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: hate fucking, semi-public sex, mean!dom eddie (he’s secretly down so bad), fingering, they both call each names (slut, brat, asshole, dickhead), big dick eddie, unprotected piv sex (the condom breaks oops), unintentionally cream pie, little sprinkle of angst

a/n: this is entirely inspired by that one audio by eyesofsuggestion (getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend).

word count: 3.5k

also huge shoutout to both @strangerstilinski and @uglypastels for helping me so much. i appreciate the hell out of you both. and also to @lesservillain for giving me the condom idea. enjoy my lil freaks xx.

“Looks like someone’s not enjoying the party…”

You barely register his deep voice over the thumping bass from inside the house when you stomp out onto the patio.

The night air feels nearly as sticky as inside the house, the amount of bodies pressing together causing the temperature to skyrocket.

But the moment you see his lanky figure leaning against the side of Steve’s house and the burning cherry of his cigarette in the dark— you’re half tempted to turn around.

You were already having a terrible night to begin with but you weren’t about to let Eddie Munson make it any worse for you. Knowing this was partially his fault to begin with. 

“What‘s it to you, Munson?” you spit.

His answering chuckle has you gritting your teeth, tucking your skirt under yourself as you sit on the patio steps.

“Oh nothing…” he hums, taking another long drag from his cigarette. “It’s just hard not to notice how you’ve been throwing yourself at Steve all night.”

While you hate to admit it, and you wouldn’t out loud— Eddie was right.

You’d gone out of your way to pretty yourself up for him, wearing your lowest cut blouse and your shortest skirt in hopes of getting his attention. You stayed by his side, laughed at all his jokes. Despite all the effort you put in, Steve barely spared you a passing glance.

It was such a total switch from how he was acting towards you the previous weekend. Steve had barely got you in his bedroom before his hands were in your pants. But now he was too busy shoving his tongue down a pretty blonde’s throat to even notice your absence.

“I haven’t been throwing myself at anyone, dickhead,” you roll your eyes with a scoff.

Eddie just laughs again, leaning his head back against the siding. “I wouldn’t have assumed  Steve’s dick game was so good that you’d be crawling back for sloppy seconds.” 

And when you turn to glare at him, you can’t help but admire the way the smoke unfurls from his plump lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, prick.” 

“— Hey now,” he mocked you with a slight pout, “Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me, princess. I was just stating the obvious.”

You avert your eyes before he catches you staring, but that frustration mixed with unkindled desire continues to mount between you with each passing second. 

So when your eyes are drawn back to him, you aren’t entirely sure why. 

As annoying as Eddie could be, you can’t deny that he was attractive. And if his shitty attitude towards you wasn’t the reason that Steve kept blowing you off, maybe you’d actually like him. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“— you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he teases.

While your face shows mock disgust, your body betrays you when you feel wetness beginning to pool in the fabric of your panties. 

“In your dreams, Munson.”

Eddie smirks a little, taking that as a challenge.

“What are you, scared?” 

Under normal circumstances, you’d tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. Perhaps it was your hormones getting the best of you. 

But there was something about the way the moonlight catches on his rings, and the pale glow that casts shadows over his handsome features— that’s making you think otherwise.

“I mean… I don’t see anyone else lining up to take that bratty ass of yours home.” Eddie takes one last, long drag but this time he notices the way your eyes linger on his lips.

You make it almost too easy.

“And it would be a damn shame to let all that hard work of yours go to waste, you know?” he continues casually while he snuffs out his cigarette. “Since Harrington, clearly isn’t appreciating it.” 

And you really can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Eddie closes the remaining distance between you, causing your head to tilt back as you look up at him in utter disbelief.

“Don’t act so coy, I saw how you were looking at me just now…”

Beneath his cocky demeanor, his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

Because unbeknownst to you, the real reason Steve was avoiding you at every turn was entirely for Eddie's benefit. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Eddie holds up his hand before you can say anything else, his lips lifting in a shit eating grin.

“Besides, we both know that if it’s not for me, you’ll be going home with an empty cunt. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Your body flushes at the vulgarity of his words, but you mull them over nonetheless. 

While you didn’t like him, despised him in fact— this could be an opportunity to get some pent up frustration out of your system. Since it was clear Steve wasn’t up for the challenge. 

So you tuck your lower lip in between your teeth and you rise to your feet.

“Fine,” you hum and there’s a sudden flash of surprise in his eyes. Like he half expected you to tell him to go fuck himself and storm off, but it’s gone just as quickly. “On one condition.”

The patio steps put you an inch or so above him, so now he has to look up to meet your gaze.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, princess?” he smirks.

You grip the fabric of his t-shirt in your fists, urging him closer. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your breasts now flush against his chest.

“You keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

And you use the advantage of your slight height difference to press your lips to his before he has a chance to respond.

Eddie all but groans into your mouth as tugs you closer, hands gripping onto your hips before splaying over the curve of your ass. When he slips his tongue in your mouth, he tastes like a dizzying combination of nicotine and cheap beer.

But the taste somehow leaves you wanting more.

So when you start to grind yourself onto his jean-clad thigh, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. The male fully enjoys the pitiful whimper it pulls from you.

“If you think I’m fucking you out here… you’re out of your goddamn mind,” he pants into your open mouth.

“Well if you had somewhere else in mind maybe you should try taking the reins, hotshot,” you fire back.

Eddie takes a single step up the stairs to place himself at eye level with you, as if to even the playing field. 

And you just stare at each other, both your eyes are ablaze with a mixture of annoyance and lust. It's Eddie who eventually breaks your gaze to brush past you and continue on towards the house.

He dares a glance over his shoulder once he reaches the patio door, a brow rising beneath his bangs as if to give you one final chance to back out. But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

No one spares either of you a second glance when he leads you up the stairs and pulls you into the first bedroom on the right. 

You know upon entering that this is Steve’s room, recognizing the checkered wallpaper from the weekend prior. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it before his lips are back on yours and he’s leading you towards his best friend’s bed.

“In here?” you say between heated kisses, earning you a deep hum when he pushes you down onto the mattress.

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” he mused, dark eyes admiring the way your skirt has risen up your thighs. “Unless… you really wanna make him jealous.” 

Eddie crawls over you after shrugging off his leather jacket and you can already feel how hard he is through the rough denim. You tug harshly on his hair when his lips trail down across your neck, teeth scraping against the hollow of your throat.

But the ache between your thighs only becomes stronger with each press of his lips, and in turn causes your already thin patience to slip further.

“Get on with it already, I don’t have all damn night.”

You can feel his laughter vibrate against your sweaty skin but his hand dips between your thighs nonetheless. Eddie cups your clothed pussy in the palm of his hand, pulling a breathy whine from you when he presses the heel of it against your clit.

“Hmm, givin' an awful lot of attitude to someone who's just tryin’ to do you a favor, sweetheart.”

You merely roll your eyes in response, reaching between your bodies to palm over the bulge that’s straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Huh, seems to me that you like my little attitude, asshole.”

The male groans into your neck when you apply more pressure, his hand quickly gripping onto your wrist before he pins the both of them above your head.

“Ya’know I usually love a bit of a challenge, but you sweetheart, are a giant pain in the ass.”

You giggle mockingly, tilting your head at him with a slight pout, “Aww, Eddie— I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

If only you knew… 

That laughter morphs into a soft gasp when he yanks your panties down your thighs with his other hand. Those calloused fingers slipping between your slick folds to circle over your swollen bud.

His nose skims along the curve of your shoulder, greedily inhaling your perfume. Enjoying the way your body practically shudders beneath his own.

“So sensitive…” he coos mockingly, the tip of his middle finger brushing over your puckered hole. “And I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

Any snarky comment dies on your tongue when he slips the digit inside, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. A small mewl gets caught in your throat when he slides another finger in and your body welcomes the stretch.

Eddie can only grin wider when you grind your hips down onto his fingers, his other hand releases your wrists to tug down the front of your blouse to free your breasts. He has to hold back a moan of his own when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, his lips latching around your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your fingers tangling themselves in his wild mane while his curl up inside you.

“If only Steve could see how much of a fucking mess you’re making for me,” he taunts, leaning his mouth down to suck on the underside of your breast. “Bet he’d be so pissed that you’re ruining his expensive sheets, sweetheart.”

Your answering whimper has him chuckling, urging him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you. Ultimately proving his point as you can feel the wetness dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. But the noisy glide of his fingers are nearly as taunting as his words.

“E-Eddie— I…” your chest heaves as you trail off, feeling that rubber band in your middle about to snap with each pump of his fingers.

He knows what that blissful look on your face means and it brings him a little too much pleasure to see it crumble when he completely removes his fingers from inside you. Your cry of frustration has his cock practically throbbing in his jeans, sticky fingers hurrying to unbuckle his belt.

“Nah uh,” he tuts. “You don’t always get what you want, brat.”

Eddie pushes his jeans and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, the sight of it momentarily distracting you.

He was big, much bigger than you anticipated.

Part of you was almost worried he wasn’t going to fit. Eddie must see the mixture of surprise and awe written across your features, as he leans forward to swipe his thumb along the corner of your mouth.

“Drooling already? You flatter me, sweetheart.”

He reaches over for a condom in Steve’s bedside drawer, ripping the packet open with his teeth. But Eddie can practically see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he rolls the latex on, which only causes him to laugh harder.

“Oh how cute, you thought I was gonna fill you up, baby?” he all but sneers as he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together. “A slut like you has to earn that privilege.”

He lets go of your cheeks, ringed fingers spreading your thighs apart and pulling you down toward the edge of the mattress. Positioning you in just the right spot so he can tap the head of his cock against your clit.

The wet slapping noise it makes has him grinning even wider and it takes everything in you not to slap that look right off his face.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna actually fuck me?” you huff.

He tilts his head at you, a little surprised by your sudden outburst. And to think you were being so good just a minute ago.

“See, that’s not what we’re going to do, brat.” He clicks his tongue, his other hand gripping the meat of your thighs a little harder. “Keep giving me that attitude and I’ll have no issue walking out of here and burying my cock into someone else.”

You just glare at each other, in a silent struggle for power. But this time you are the first to crack when you cast your eyes downward. That uncomfortable silence stretches on for a moment too long, which he mistakes for regret. 

He’s about to tuck himself back into his jeans when you grip onto his wrist with a soft whine.

“N-No, shit— please don’t go.”

Eddie just raises an eyebrow at you, not impressed by that meek attempt at begging. So you blow out the breath you were holding, swallowing your pride when your eyes flick up to meet his.

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please.”

You feel incredibly pathetic begging Eddie Munson of all people. But you also can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs when you feel the thick head of his cock glide against your entrance.

“See? Now was that so hard?” he snickers, giving you no warning before he’s guiding the head inside your sopping cunt.

“Jesus— fuck, you’re tight,” he blurts, marveling as your pussy practically sucks him in. 

You let out a gasp when he bottoms out with a low hiss, his own head tipping backwards when you clench harder around him. But the male doesn’t move a muscle, his hands gripping onto your hips to keep you in place.

An act of mercy really— he doesn’t want to hurt you.

While you are grateful for the reprieve, that slight sting soon fades into a dull ache and you desperately need more.

When Eddie feels you start to squirm in his grasp, he groans low in his throat. His head tips back down to meet your half lidded gaze while he carefully guides his cock out before sliding it back in.

He works up a steady rhythm, but slow enough to keep you both teetering on the edge of desperation— until you can’t take it anymore.

“God— go faster,” your attempt at a direct order comes out as more a breathy plea instead.

But he doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands coaxing your trembling legs over his shoulders before slamming his hips back into yours. An elated moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping onto the sheets as you eagerly meet each hard thrust he gives you.

“It’s too bad Harrington’s missin’ out on all this,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as he watches that creamy ring around his cock expand with each snap of his hips. “But I can put in a really good word for ya, princess.”

And when your eyes roll back, it’s not from annoyance this time— as he hits your sweet spot dead on.

“I hate you,” you huff regardless, but your words don’t hold nearly as much malice. 

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” 

You miss the smug look that crosses his features when your back arches up off the mattress and you cry out his name repeatedly.

“That’s it, brat— say my name louder. Let them know… let Steve know who’s making you feel this good.” 

Your nails dig into his forearms as he fucks you even faster, a low growl pushing past his lips with each hard thrust. The bed creaks harshly in protest but that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.

If anything— it encourages him to go harder, bucking into you like some wild animal. The little uh, uh uh’s that he pushes out of you are music to his ears, the sounds becoming higher in pitch the closer you get to the edge.

And when your eyes flutter shut, he only quickened his pace. The brunette practically bends you in half as he leans into you, this new angle forcing him even deeper.

“Look.” Grunt. “At.” Grunt. “Me.” Grunt.

In your blissed out state, you miss the hidden meaning behind his pointed words. 

When you manage to finally open them, he’s closer. A lot closer than you expected. So close you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the sweat that dots his upper lip. 

Maybe you’ve never wanted to admit it to yourself before, but Eddie really was gorgeous. And from the way he’s gazing down at you, pupils blown out and glassy, you can only assume he feels the same about you. 

And that last bit of self control slips when you smash your lips together.

He kisses you back just as forcefully, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. Gasping for breath, your fingers begin to loosen their grip on his arm. Slipping them between your bodies to rub quick circles over your swollen bud. 

The sensation has your walls squeezing tighter around him, earning you another throaty moan. 

“See how much easier you are to deal with like this, baby?” He mumbles against your mouth, enjoying the small scowl that crosses over your features. “All cockdrunk and stupid… it suits you.” 

While you open your mouth to throw one last insult his way, a pointed thrust into your sweet spot has you trembling. A loud squeal leaving your lips instead when you tumble over the edge. 

And Eddie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart beneath him, memorizing each expression with the utmost sincerity. Even if you did hate him, he couldn’t help himself. 

“Oh, atta girl…” he praises, his hot breath fanning over your lips while he continues to bury himself inside you.

You feel the sudden snap of the latex before he does. The male blissfully unaware as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and finishes with a deep groan, unintentionally filling you up in the process.

“Hm, guess I got what I wanted after all,” you laugh a little breathlessly. 

Eddie lifts his head in confusion, the realization finally dawns on him when he feels his warmth start to trickle down your thighs. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He curses as he pulls out, making an even bigger mess of both you and the sheets in the process. 

“Stupid, fucking cheap ass condoms,” he huffs under his breath, chucking the broken rubber into the trash. 

Although his jaw is clenched in annoyance, his eyes are now transfixed on where his cum begins to leak out of your puffy pussy and onto the bedspread.

Unable to stop himself, Eddie reaches out a hand to graze along the underside of your ass. He collects some of the mess on his fingertips and guides them back inside you.

And despite the sensitivity, the possessiveness of his actions has your walls clenching around his dexterous fingers.

Everything comes to a sudden halt when the bedroom door swings open, knocking into the wall.

“Alright you horny shits, time to…” Steve trails off once he sees the two of you, honey hues widening in disbelief. “In my bed, Munson? Really?” 

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, merely straightening up from where he was hovering over your half naked form whilst you quickly tug the sheets over yourself from sheer embarrassment.

Now all Eddie can see is the way you're looking at Steve. Something sour settles in his stomach, a tangle of jealousy and hurt. While his heart rate slows, his defenses go back up. 

That feeling prickles along his skin as he tucks himself back into his boxers and re-fastens the button on his jeans. 

"Was just warmin' her up for ya, man," Eddie says through his teeth. 

Steve's look of confusion deepens as he glances between the two of you, knowing that this is exactly what Eddie had wanted. 

But now Eddie won’t even look at you. 

He doesn't see the conflicted emotions swimming in your eyes when he speaks again. Throwing the words over his shoulder without a second glance as he grabs his jacket and turns to leave. 

"She's all yours, Harrington." 

That lie burns on his tongue like acid, but he doesn't look back.

taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @popbangcrash @corrodedcorpses @demibats @hellfire--cult @calumfmu @bastardstevie @emmypoisonedqueen @probablyin-bed @luv4peterba1lard @stolen-in-moonlight @potatobeans99 @your-nightmaredoll @rebelfell @josephquinnsfreckles @chaptersleftunwritten @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @callsignmedusa @splendiferous-bitch @spenciesprincess @creepycranberry @idkwhattoputhere08 @obsessed-midwest-princess @joequiinn @celestialbat @rosekicks @not-my-lover @alba8688 @kellsck sorry if i missed anyone!

[alphabetboyluvr]

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying. 

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there. 

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might. 

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers. 

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships. 

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for. 

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

[lanroman]

Taking Care

first (and last) fic- wrote this a while ago, its been sitting in my docs for over a year and a half probably, i came upon it the other day and i figured... why not share?!

a fluffy one shot about reader taking care of lando after a race!

~1k words

WARNINGS: slight suggestive comments, nakedness but not in a sexual way

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, which was slightly out of the ordinary. Race weekends were always exhausting for Lando, but he’d somehow always find the energy to talk and laugh with you up until the very moment he drifted off to sleep. And when you couldn’t be with him in person, he’d Facetime you and give you a rundown on the race for hours. But this time, he was silent. Today the whirlwind couple of weekends seemed to finally catch up to him, as the high hopes and adrenaline started to fade; he looked exhausted. Even with the exhaustion setting in, he was still sporting the same sweet smile he always did, leaning against your chest in the car's back seat. You’ve been together for about two years, but you still feel those butterflies in your stomach you got at the beginning of your relationship when looking at him even now.

You were the first one to speak up after a few minutes as you were almost to the hotel. “Who’s showering first?” You looked down at him and spoke softly. 

He perked up a bit, sitting upright, saying, “When have we ever taken turns?” He jokes as you shoot him a look and nudged his chest. He laughs and then speaks again, but his voice is low this time. “You. I’m about to crash. I’ll take one tomorrow.” He sighs rubbing his eyes, his head now leaning against the headrest.

“Baby, you have to take one tonight,” You say, running your fingers through his hair that was slightly tangled at the ends. “you’ll sleep better all cleaned up.” 

He doesn’t offer a verbal response, just a small nod of his head as he closes his eyes.

“I’m taking that as a ‘me first’.” You whisper to him as the car pulls up to the entrance of the hotel. 

You helped with his bags and was practically carrying him into the hotel and up to the room. 

After opening the door, Lando tries to break free from you and headed straight to the bed, with no luck as you drop your bags and clung to his abdomen.

“Y/N please, I’m too tired. I’ll drown.” He says in between laughs. “Baby come on, I’ll help you. I won’t let that happen.” You say directing him to the bathroom.

He sleepily plops down on top of the toilet seat as you crouch down to untie his shoes, taking them off along with his socks. You set them aside and start the water in the shower.

“Ok, arms up.” You say, grabbing the hem of his papaya shirt. He barely reaches his hands over his head as you pull it off him. He winces slightly, putting his hands down and grabbing one of his shoulders. “Lan,” Your eyebrows knit, watching the pain show and leave his face quickly in an attempt to try to hide it. Your hand goes on top of his.

“Just sore. I’m fine.” He says plainly, rolling his shoulders back. You look up at him, unsure if he was just saying that. 

He smiles and chuckles a little bit. “Really, I’m fine.” He grabs your hand that was still on his shoulder and squeezes it. “Well, tell me if it gets any worse, okay?” You said somewhat confident that we is truly fine. He nodded in response.

“Alright. Stand up.”

“I don’t think my legs will let me.” He wines.

“Your pants Lando. Unless you’d like to keep those on?” You laugh.

“I guess not.” He lets out a big sigh, standing up. You stood up too and was about to help him but he let out a weak laugh. “I think I can manage this part myself, baby.” 

“First time for everything.” You said cheekily, going to take off your shirt. He hopped in the shower first, and you followed behind him after everything was off. 

He did not get very far into his shower routine before giving up, only had body wash done by the time you were rinsing your hair. 

“I need help.” He said handing you a bottle of shampoo. You take some and gently work the product in till it bubbled, then washed it out. He let out a soft breath as your fingers went through his hair, making sure the conditioner was thoroughly massaged in. Once you finished rinsing his hair again, you grabbed both of your towels and dried yourself off before wrapping him up and walking him to the bed. 

He sat upright until you weren’t holding onto him any more. He laid down with his legs off the bed, the towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Come on, you just have to get dressed.” You say as somewhat of an encouragement, taking the opportunity to dig in your suitcase to at least put on your undergarments before helping him. 

You turn around once you were finished to see Landos eyes glued to your frame with a wide sly smile on his face.

”Please, you are wide awake, get dressed yourself.” You say, blood rushing to your cheeks, throwing some clothes at him from his suitcase. 

He lets out a chuckle and gets up from the bed walking to you. He moved your hair to the side and plants soft kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder.

“Finding some energy now, hm?” You say tilting your head to the side.

”Maybe just a little.” He lets out a big over dramatic yawn. With a shake of your head and a laugh, you continue to get dressed as he gets grabs his clothes and does the same. You pull him into the bathroom one last time to brush his teeth before he was in bed for good. You had a few more steps of your routine before you were ready for bed, so when you were finished, he was practically one breath away from being fully asleep. You crawled into bed beside him. His arms instinctively pulled you in closer and held you in a comfortable sort of hug.

He lets out a hum, “Thank you for taking care of me. And not just today.” He said barely above a whisper. 

“Of course baby. I love you.” You place a small kiss on his cheek. He smiles with his eyes still closed.

”I love you too.” 

“Goodnight sweet boy.” You said as the butterflies in your stomach flapped their wings again, lulling you to sleep.

a/n: i feel embarrassed, but thanks for reading <3 maybe throw it a like so im not so self-conscious :)

[7waystreet]

dirty confessions | kim taehyung

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 6 — taehyung

Hi diary,

I have a confession to make. Not only did I indulge in that mind blowing threesome with Jimin and his chick, but I also secretly fucked Jungkook's gf (y/n) in the butt.

It's not just lust when it comes to (y/n)... she's been my best friend for years and I've been in love with her for as long as I can remember, much before the time she began dating Jungkook. I'd never confessed my feelings to her out of the fear of losing her, and looking back, I'm thankful I never did bcuz she ended up falling for Jungkookie anyways. It took me months to finally accept I'd never have her, my heart breaking every single time I saw them together happily in love, until I forced myself to get over it.

Her happiness means the world to me.

But everything changed when (y/n) approached me with a dark cloud looming above her head during our group roller skating meetup last weekend, appearing very much unlike her usual fun self... everything changed forever.

Hobi hyung and I struggle the most while roller skating, the fear of death flashing right before my eyes when I tumbled and got ready to fall smack onto the floor. But I suddenly felt two soft arms curl around my waist and hold me up straight from slipping, her fresh sweet scent seeping into my senses confirming my best friend (y/n) had indeed saved my ass. A heat flared through my chest knowing she was so close to me and enveloping my back in her warmth, my broken heart desperately pleading she'd never let go... but just like that, she inched out of the embrace and helped turn me around, a smile perking up my lips when my eyes met her beautiful ones.

But that happiness quickly faded away after I noticed the somber look on her dulled out face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her with a deepening concern, my fear of being on skates instantly disappearing as all of my attention went straight to her, trying to understand the reason behind her sadness.

"It's Kook."

My heart dropped hearing the depressing tone in her voice bcuz I knew how much he meant to her, her joyless demeanor indicating something was seriously wrong. I asked her what'd happened but it made me feel guilty as her eyes started to flood with tears. So I suggested if she just wanted to hangout after roller skating and talk about it, to which she agreed with a nod, then slowly drifting away towards Jungkookie while he was too busy playing with others.

"I think Kook's cheating on me. He just seems so distracted lately and he barely wants to have sex... I can't help but think he's with someone else. Sorry Tae. I know this is all TMI, but I couldn't share this stuff with anyone else but you."

As much as my sore heart wanted her to shut the fuck up about her sex life with Jeon Jungkook, I knew I had to put aside my hurt feelings and be there for my best friend. I assured her the young one was probably just stressed out bcuz of the upcoming concert prep as he always wants to give his 110% for ARMY, and that's probably why he seemed distant. There was no real proof that could confirm he was cheating on her, and I didn't want to feed her anxiety any more than what the poor girl was already experiencing. I wanted her to feel better.

My tummy madly flipped around when she suddenly flung her body onto mine, making me sink back into the couch's cushion with her weight on top of me, her small face buried in my chest while I could hear her silent sobs and shudders of worry. Nothing else mattered in that moment, my arms engulfing her in a big bear hug at once and holding her tight, her makeup staining my hoodie in the prettiest way possible.

I assured (y/n) that nobody could hurt her as long as I was standing by her side, which would be for the rest of our lives. My gut wrenched when she pulled away and looked up at me with glistening eyes, sniffling her snot heavy before a smile cracked through her gorgeous lips, my own mouth reflecting a grin when she sighed out in ease after a long time of crying.

"Why do you even put up with all my bullshit?" she awkwardly chuckled, cutely wiping her tears away with the back of her palm, but she froze in place when I blurted out "That's what you do for the girl you love."

The next couple of mins are burned into my memory forever for the way they made me feel a roller coaster of emotions... mostly an overwhelming amount of regret though. (y/n) gazed into my eyes while both her hands were still on my chest, her swollen face then leaning up to mine and pressing our lips together in a soft, sizzling kiss. The way our breaths naturally synced and fastened up made us both pause with our eyes closed shut to comprehend what'd just happened, our noses slightly touching as we remained inches away from each others faces. We'd just willingly shared our first kiss together.

I wasn't sure how we'd ended up doing this now after years of being the closest of friends... everything almost feeling like a dream, but to my pleasure it wasn't. (y/n) was mine in that moment, and I was willing to do anything to make her feel happy. I did respectfully ask to check if this is really what she wanted and she confirmed she did... if (y/n) felt peace in my arms, then I was gonna give her just that.

The best part was none of this shit felt weird, not even when we'd both made our way into the safety of my bedroom, probably bcuz (y/n) and I've slept in the same bed plenty of times before, just never in a sexual way like tonight. We'd already gotten into a hot makeout within seconds, our lips struggling to stay detached while I lightly sucked on her tongue, our hands slowly exploring one another's bodies to get used to touching each other in this unashamed way. It's crazy how many emotions I'd repressed all these years, passionate emotions I felt for her that were bursting out of me when my body got on top of hers and saw her crumble underneath my touch.

Her lips quivered when my palm wrapped around her neck and added a slight pressure, her face lighting up with excitement by seeing this hidden dominant side of me in such a way, my lips grazing her shivering ones as I leaned down and asked her "Is there something you wanted to try in bed... something he didn't do that I could help you with?"

My blood set on fire when she choked out "Anal" the more I added pressure on her throat with my palm, my lips immediately crashing into hers after hearing that word, my whole being now kissing her with a raging thrill, her moans mingling with mine while we began to really get into the mood.

The key to making any girl comfortable for anal is foreplay, and although (y/n) suggested drinking alcohol to loosen ourselves up, I refused the offer as I wanted to be in my senses and live in the present without being under any kind of influence. We naturally eased into a rhythm in no time though, our bodies wildly grinding against one another to up our desires even more, my throbbing cock rubbing onto her clit through our clothes enough to make her want to tear my clothes off right then and there.

I'll never forget the shocked looked on (y/n)'s face when she looked down at my big boner pop out after she'd pulled off my sweatpants, her throat visibly taking in a big gulp at the thought of my dick entering her tight lil ass. But the worry on her face faded away the second my mouth touched her clit, the way I was going down on her melting her into sweet pudding, although her pussy tasted way better than that. (y/n)'s moans and yelps were getting me off, my eyes focused up on her face while my tongue circled her clit and sucked on it with the perfect titillating pressure, my mouth then teasing her folds and slurping up her juices already flooding out while I rubbed her clit with my thumb to keep arousing her and loosening her muscles.

It was the most intimate night of my life, the trust we both feel in each other as best friends allowing us to let go and perform such a sensitive act without worry. Just seeing her arch her back and get on all fours for me made me harden up even more, the sexy view of her fine ass right in front of me making my stomach drop while I poured a ton of lube on my cock and rubbed a little on her hole, her knees instantly shuddering at my touch. Leaning down towards her face, I kissed (y/n) and told her to communicate with me if anything hurt or felt uncomfortable and she eagerly kissed me back and smiled to finally give me the go.

Holy shit was it magical... the level of tightness in her ass something I'd never experienced before, the tip of my cock gradually inching in while I observed her moves, (y/n) whimpering and clutching the sheets in fists to get through the initial pain. I wanted to do everything possible to ease her into it so I guided my girl through the entirety of the sex, encouraging her to simultaneously touch herself the way she liked it while I stretched her butt out. My dick was fully nestled inside her hole by now, (y/n)'s fingers rubbing her clit in circles to the dirty talk I was now feeding her, praising her for how hot she was making me feel, how she was going to make me cum so hard, and how I wanted to keep fucking her all night long until she couldn't stand up or walk.

All of my fantasies were playing out one by one as I talked nasty to her and told (y/n) just how bad I wanted to ruin her, her chest shuddering while she kept touching herself and I picked up the pace of fucking her anally, my cock on cloud 9 feeling the friction of her ass against my bare skin, the need to cum approaching soon while (y/n)'s screams indicated she was nearing her end too.

My huge load of cum dripped right out of her asshole like a cream donut after I came straight into her with a breathless sigh, (y/n)'s legs clenching and her chest collapsing after she'd cum herself from the heightened combination of things. The sight was too beautiful to take in. Her legs gave out and she fell flat on the bed, her face in the mattress and body shaking as she tried to gain her severed breath, my body laying down next to her and rubbing her back to soothe her as I tried to calm down from my high myself.

(y/n) finally turned around and smiled at me, the both of us acknowledging the fact that nothing would change between us despite sharing this unforgettable experience together. Everything felt perfect.

a/n ♡

i imagined a "friends to lovers" plot for tae as it'd suit him the best over the others, knowing he's a social butterfly with many friends irl. altho this storyline has similarities to hoseok's, the motive behind the sex in both plots is diff; tae's not wishing revenge or lust like hobi. tae simply loves (y/n) but it blinds his judgement of betraying jungkook. tae is known to acting on whim irl and just doing what his heart freely desires, so the unplanned act with (y/n) doesn't come as a shocker.

— social butterfly: tae's able to establish a rapport with jimin's gf just like he is with jungkook's gf without having his own gf. he naturally possesses the quality to bond with various people, which is shown by the way he's able to hookup with both girls without any awkwardness

— eccentric persona: anal isn't the most common sexual act but it doesn't scare him when (y/n) suggests it. he's accepting of trying new things especially with his best friend, a reflection of tae's "free spirit" personality and lifestyle irl

— care giver: instead of drinking alcohol as a short cut to loosening up, he makes (y/n) feel comfortable by going down on her, easing her into things bcuz acts of service is a big part of his love language irl

[sirfrogsworth]

Last week was crazy.

I honestly can't believe all of it happened in the span of a week. Well, I guess it was more like 10 days. But it was another... Alot.

It all started when I got my disability denial letter. I couldn't wait until I got into the house so I opened the envelope as I walked back from the mailbox. Once I saw the bad part I had an instant panic attack in my driveway.

I ran inside...

Okay, that isn't true.

I walked very quickly inside...

Nope, still not true.

Okay, I walked at my personal top speed which is probably still slow for most people... but the point I'm trying to make is that I was attempting to hurry despite only saving myself about 3 seconds of travel time.

But the hurrying made me feel better, okay?

Out of breath from my geriatric-style powerwalking, I called my lawyer's office immediately. And... he is on vacation. Won't be back until the next Thursday. I spent the entire weekend going through every panic state a body can feel. I go from angry to depressed to anxious to panicked to angry (again) to scared to more scared to extra more scared. Visions of homelessness danced in my head.

I can't sleep for over a day because my brain won't shut off. Finally my body gives out and I fall asleep on the couch watching random YouTube videos. But falling asleep on the couch is bad because I'm not hooked up to my CPAP machine. Then I finally do hook up my CPAP and my damned mask breaks. Thankfully it has happened before and I have a cool hot glue and duct tape solution. But it is hard to manage hot glue and tape when you haven't slept in days and your eyes will barely stay open. So a few burned fingers later, I am sleeping comfortably in my janky duct tape-laden CPAP mask.

Monday rolls around and I decide to go into problem solving mode. Problem solving is my superpower, so I was going to lean into that in an effort to reduce my anxiety. The denial letter said they had no records from before I was 22, so I put on my detective hat and began the hunt to prove I was sick before 2004. My aunt helped me dig through my mom's document drawer. I distinctly remember an essay I wrote to the disability people back when I first got sick. It was part of the paperwork they had me submit. It was a first hand account of my symptoms back in 2001. It also had an essay from my dad talking about how sick I was. I felt like if I could find that, the records surrounding it would all be related and from the same time period.

We go through the entire drawer and only find a few things that might be helpful. Then I realized my mom had a *second* drawer full of documents and my aunt was blocking it. So we start going through that and find a folder labeled "Ben's Disability Stuff." I would have never kept any of that stuff but my mom kept *everything* and it was all in chronological order.

She is still looking out for me.

And she may have kept me from being homeless.

We find the essay and records of my ECT treatments and the names of doctors and all kinds of evidence of my medical woes before 2004. And even if they won't accept it as direct evidence, I can use these documents to show doctors I was their patient. And my primary care doctor said he would be willing to talk to those past doctors to help me convince them to write a letter on my behalf. All they really have to say is they treated me for severe depression and fatigue. And because my mom kept a list of my prescriptions and my ECT treatments, I'm hoping that will be enough to convince them even if they don't remember treating me.

Wednesday I had my monthly checkup. And I got to peek at my main doctor's records from before 2004. It's all handwritten notes and a little hard to read (bad doctor handwriting is the most accurate stereotype in existence). But it clearly says I had depression and was undergoing ECT treatments. It even mentions one of the doctors I want to write me a letter. It's not a lot, but it is first hand, direct medical evidence from that time period. I think it will be very compelling to whoever reviews my case.

I also talked to the nurses/assistants in the office about copying my entire chart, and I thought we were on the same page, but as you will see later... we were not on the same page.

I exit the building and remember how far away I had parked. And once again I forgot to use my cane—even though I keep a spare in the car. The main lot was full and the disabled parking was occupied, so I had to park in the secondary lot. My legs were holding up so far, but it was already a lot of walking for me. Very slow walking.

His office is in the same complex as the hospital. Which is my next stop. It's the same hospital that I have been going to all of my life. And the hospital where both of my parents died.

But I need vintage medical records and that is where they keep them.

Or so I thought.

I drive from the medical office parking lot to the hospital parking lot and only the spots farthest away are empty. And because of goddamn global warming, it is 90 fucking degrees in late September. I park, lock my car, grab my man purse, and start hoofing it to the hospital entrance. I'm so nervous about getting these records that I forgot my damn cane again.

My thoughts are basically, "What if they only keep 7 years of records like everyone else? What if the records from Christian Northwest aren't kept with the records from Christian Northeast? (Christian NW doesn't exist anymore.) What if they won't send them to my lawyer? What if it costs a thousand bucks? What if, what if, what if..."

I get to the front desk and ask the lady where the records department is. She gives me directions that my brain is only capable of half paying attention to. Then I realized I left the records release form from my lawyer in the car. So I walk another half mile in the heat to my car without my cane. And initially, my thought was, "Well, at least I can grab my cane once I get the form." But by the time I got to my car my thought was, "AHHHHHHHHH THAT WAS A LONG FUCKING WALK. KILL ME!"

And so I forgot my cane.

Again.

I get back to the lobby and wave at the lady who gave me directions. I pretend like I remembered and confidently walk in the direction I recall her pointing to. I found the elevator. Thankfully this particular elevator only goes two places. Which seems like a waste of an elevator, but... whatever. I get off on the second floor and am met with a big sign with all the departments and little arrows next to them.

(I'm sure you knew what I was talking about but I'm trying to break up this wall of text with images because I am a professional blogger person.)

I see "Medical Records" and a leftward arrow. I used my keen detective skills to surmise I should probably veer left.

I find myself at the beginning of the world's longest hallway.

Without my cane.

And it is flooded with sterile florescent light and the walls are adorned with the world's most inoffensive art.

Here is a painting of a plant. Here is a painting of a bird. Here is a painting of a bird sitting on a plant. Wait, is that a... WATERFALL??

Suddenly Indiana Jones' voice shouts in my thoughts...

So, if you had to guess, do you think the records department was...

A.) near the beginning of the hallway? B.) in the middle of the hallway? C.) beyond the world's longest hallway in the world's second longest hallway?

As I enter the world's second longest hallway, I notice the art is repeating itself. I've seen that bird sitting on a plant before. I worried I was going in circles, but it turns out they probably just bought the inoffensive art in bulk and weren't concerned about repeats. I get about halfway down the second longest hallway and see a big sign sticking out... "MEDICAL RECORDS."

Note to God: The real world needs a fast travel mode.

I was a big sweaty mess and my legs were like jello. I lumber through the door and find a young woman scrolling through her phone and probably wishing she was anywhere else. She was behind a huge partition with a plexiglass divider—probably still there from COVID days.

I mean, it's still COVID days. But no one is acting like it so I am just pretending it is all over like everyone else seems to.

She notices an out-of-breath Hagrid towering over her and apathetically inquires, "Can I help you?"

I hold up a finger as I try to gain my composure and figure out exactly what I want to say. I usually rehearse this kind of thing beforehand but with all of the anxious thoughts spiraling through my brain, I totally forgot to do that.

"I need to ask questions about records." "What kind of questions?" "Well, how long are the records?" "I'm sorry?" "What year do they start?" "What year do you need?"

I'm suddenly realizing why I rehearse these things. So I take a moment and breathe deeply. I form the proper question in my mind.

"How far back do you keep medical records?" "30 years."

I shoot my hands up like I just scored a touchdown and say, "OH THANK GOD."

She is very confused.

"30 years, oh my god. 30 years just saved my life."

She is still very confused.

"And do you have records from Christian Northwest?" "Yes, we have everything from all Christian hospitals."

I try to give her a brief explanation of my situation and she cuts me off. "Fill out this form."

I look at the clipboard and it is a release form.

Do you remember way back when I walked an extra mile to and from the car to get a release form that my lawyer prepared? Well, turns out they have their own version of that and I walked all that way for nothing.

I finish the form and hand it to the bored, indifferent front desk lady. She tells me someone will be out in a moment. So I sit in the uncomfortable waiting chairs and try to rest a bit. A much tinier young woman walks to the front desk partition thingie and calls out my name. But due to her diminutive stature, she is completely obscured by a pillar and I have no idea where the voice is coming from. We do this little awkward dance on either side of the pillar, attempting to see each other, and finally we both end up on the same side. She starts looking over my form and seemed a little annoyed that I left a section blank. I wasn't sure what kind of records I needed and there was no box that said "everything everywhere all at once."

What I really wanted was any document with my name on it from the beginning of time.

But I was worried about asking for too much labor from this person so I started negotiating for some reason.

I was like, "Well, like, I really need like anything you have from before like 2004. And then maybe, like, some general records after 2004. Like, the pre-2004 records are super important. But, like, I also need to show I was sick all my adult life. So if there are like, summary records? Or, like, something?"

I couldn't stop saying like. I was turning into a Kardashian. Again, some rehearsal was probably warranted.

"I just don't want to be a burden and make you dig up all of my records. I mostly need my ECT records from 2001."

"What is ECT?"

"Shock therapy. It's for depression. I just need to show I was really sick before the age of 22."

"And who is this guy on the form?"

*ramble mode engaged*

"Oh, that is my disability attorney. You see, I'm trying to get a special kind of disability, but I need to prove I was sick before the age of 22. So anything like that before 2004 would be very helpful. But like, if you have less detailed records after 2004 that is good too. Because I may need to prove I've been sick my entire adult life."

*continued rambling until I notice she stopped paying attention*

She did not need to know all of this. And I was not answering the questions she needed answered. I was nervous and babbling and oversharing and I couldn't snap out of it. And I was really concerned if I asked for too much, she was going to be upset. But then she told me all of the records were in a warehouse and she would not actually be finding them for me. She just places an "order" for them. So this weird negotiation thing I was doing to keep her from being annoyed at me was pointless.

And I also realized... this is super important.

I yell at myself, "Ask for everything, stupid! Quit trying to get halfassed records because you're worried about inconveniencing someone."

Finally I just say, "I want every medical record you have from before I was 22 until now."

And she was like, "Sure."

Well... that was easy.

I thanked the tiny lady and the bored lady and exited back into the second longest hallway. My adrenaline was surging. I kept yelling, "30 YEARS!!" in my brain. I had to tell someone this amazing news. I had to tell them right that second or I might burst. So I grab my phone from my man purse and dial Katrina.

The thing is, I only call Katrina when something really bad happens. People don't make phone calls anymore. People text! So when she picked up the phone she answered with a very worried tone. As if somehow a third parent of mine died or something.

"THIRTY YEARS!!!!" "WHAT IS HAPPENING??" "They keep records for 30 years!" "OHHHHHHHHHH!!! That's amazing!"

She probably didn't hop for joy in real life, but in my mind I like to pretend she did. I start explaining everything that just happened and how they most likely have my ECT records and then I realize I am in the middle of the world's second longest hallway and I don't remember which direction leads back to the world's longest hallway. And because I am having unusual and extraordinarily good luck, a medical worker was walking by right at that moment.

"Which way back to the elevator?" "This way!" "Oh great! Thank you!" "Or that way. There are two elevators."

There is that normal luck I recognize.

I can feel the universe realigning itself. But that is okay, because...

THIRTY YEARS, BABY!

I talk to Katrina as I traverse the two longest hallways. Thankfully I was going in the correct direction and found the proper elevator. After a nice chat about various things including problematic 80s movies, we hung up and I decided to treat myself to a hospital cafeteria chicken quesadilla. They are surprisingly delicious and I ate them every single day while my dad was in hospice. Those quesadillas were a single bright spot during one of the hardest times of my life.

So I walk up to the grillmaster and look at the menu.

"Wait, where is the quesadilla?" "We stopped making those two weeks ago."

Universal realignment completed. Luck has returned to its original state.

A male nurse in front of me commiserated. "Yeah, man. I miss them too."

I walked back out to my car both happy and depressed. An odd combination of conflicted feelings. But my day was not over yet. I needed vaccines and groceries. Naturally, I went to the grocery store with the CVS. I got my dad his last booster there, so I was confident they could take care of me. I grab a shopping cart and pick up a few things on the way to the pharmacy. I get in line at the little vaccine check-in spot. The woman in front of me is getting her booster as well. Otherwise, the pharmacy is empty and the three employees are just scrolling through their phones.

After the previous booster seeker was taken care of, I tell the woman I need a booster and a flu vaccine.

"I can give the flu shot now and set an appointment for the booster." "You never required an appointment before." "We just started a few weeks ago." "Can I make an appointment for, like, now?" "No, sorry." "Do you have the booster in stock?" "Yes." "Do you have someone here qualified to give the booster?" "Yes." "Do you have any other appointments right now?" "No."

I tried very hard to keep my composure and remain polite.

"I am disabled. It is very hard for me to get out of the house. Returning another day would be very difficult. Can you please make an exception?"

"I can get you in tomorrow."

I probably should have asked for a manager at this point. But I had no energy for confrontation. She started preparing for me to get the flu shot, but I told her I was going somewhere else. My happy news was quickly being soured by weird rules that made no sense.

But I did see a cool robot.

I got my groceries and loaded them into my car. Some were frozen items so I made sure to turn the A/C on full blast. I called another pharmacy. It was the one run by the Jamaican family who came out to the house to give my parents boosters during the height of COVID. I asked if they could do walk-in vaccinations without an appointment. And in that beautiful accent, they replied, "Sure, come on by. We'll take care of you."

Their shop is in Ferguson. Which I'm sure the news has convinced people is a constant warzone or something. But the main street, West Florrisant, is actually really neat in spots. A lot of small businesses catering to the Black community. There was a soul food place and an African hair braiding place and a Taco Bell. Okay, it wasn't all Black-themed shops, but the pharmacy was directly next to the "Wumzy African Attire" tailoring shop that was combined with the party planning store.

And in the back was an African beauty supply depot.

Three shops in one! Just a very efficient use of space.

And looking through the window of the tailoring shop was like a feast of colors for the eyes. I don't know how they get fabric so bright and colorful. Really beautiful patterns too. I tried not to look like a creep while staring inside so I just walked reeeeeally slow toward the pharmacy entrance.

I just wish people knew that side of Ferguson. It's a beautiful community that was really dragged through the mud by the national media.

I digress.

I walked into the pharmacy and it was long and skinny. They had a few shelves with over-the-counter health products. But the main area was pretty empty. I guess they want to make sure they can accommodate long lines without people having to wait outside. But their working area seemed really cramped. There were some awards on the wall and news articles. Apparently, they are very involved with vaccinating the local refugee community. Something you won't see at pointless appointment-having CVS. I just felt like I was in the right place even if my frozen items were thawing and my legs were buckling from constantly forgetting my cane in the car.

The shop was run by the pharmacist and matriarch. Her son took my information. He looked about 18 and was a bit shy—but very kind and helpful. He directed me to this little partition they set up for vaccinations and they had a liquor bottle full of hand sanitizer. The label had a big "DO NOT DRINK" warning. I found a picture of the exact one on Google.

I washed my hands and rolled up my sleeve. The pharmacist greeted me with my shots prepared. Some people have a sort of magic touch when it comes to giving shots. I'm not sure if it is a special technique or just lots of experience, but aside from a little pressure, I didn't even feel the needles going in. And my arm was only mildly sore despite the double shots.

I really wanted to thank her for sending someone to vaccinate my parents when no one else would. But I was really tired and chickened out. So I just thanked her and drove home.

I unloaded my groceries and collapsed on the couch. I could barely move at that point. Everything hurt.

But... 30 years.

I was feeling good the next day despite everything. My body hurt, but my brain was contented from my success. But there was more to do and everything was trending downhill. I called those doctors mentioned in my personal medical records. I knew it was a long shot, but I asked if they kept records from 2001. They did not. However, I thought the psychiatrist who did my ECT was dead. And it turns out he is just old-as-heck and still practicing. So even though he doesn't have records and probably doesn't remember me, I am hopeful he will write me a letter.

My other psychiatrist from back then is also still practicing. No records there either.

So far my phone anxiety wasn't getting the better of me. But I still had more calls to make and I could feel my brain starting to get melty.

My pocket knife doesn't open correctly and I couldn't get anyone to email me back from SpyderCo. So I called their office in Colorado and tried to get someone to talk to me. I got bounced to three different people and finally a guy told me that model is just hard to open. So that was pointless.

Melt. Melt. Melt.

And finally, I had to call the dreaded CPAP supply place.

It did not go well. At all.

You can read more about it at that link, but the short version is I got angrily sighed at for asking reasonable questions about what the hell "chart notes" are. And the lady refused to answer those questions for no reason I can fathom. She eventually brought me to tears and got angry at me for doing so. And it turned out the call was pointless as well.

Oh, and my lawyer was sick. Remember him? Vacation guy? Who skipped town at the exact moment I got my disability denial letter? Yeah, I had been waiting for 7 grueling, anxiety-filled days to speak with him and he gets sick the day he returns.

Brain is melty goo.

Hey, Universe! I think you are overcorrecting with that luck realignment. I appreciate the 30 years of records thing, but can you let me enjoy it a little?

Friday arrives and I still have calls to make. The CPAP lady really messed up my brain and so just dialing the numbers was freaking me out. But I decided to start with the worst first. I called the CPAP lady and she finally had her precious "chart notes" and put my order through. She was cheerful and helpful and I was confused but thankful.

I thought maybe things were looking up in my phone call adventures.

My next call was to my primary care doctor's office.

One thing you need to know about my doctor is he is a bit of a... hot mess. A very smart, capable doctor. He knows his stuff. I suspect he has an eidetic memory due to his instant recall of medication names and doses and things that happened 8 years ago and detailed descriptions of medical conditions he only heard about in school 40 years ago. Aside from that, he is kind and compassionate and he has my back no matter what.

But he is technologically stuck in the 80s. His personal life is a roller coaster of drama. He once hired his girlfriend of 2 months to work at the office and his regular staff secretly whispered "She's so awful" behind his back. (They broke up soon after.) He is disorganized and constantly running late. And he takes on tons of frustrating patients because they have nowhere else to go. I admire him for treating so many poor elderly folks without any family to take care of them, but you can tell it is extremely challenging at times and a lot of that labor is delegated to his staff.

His office manager is probably the only person on the planet who can tolerate him being a hot mess.

Unfortunately, she is also a hot mess in completely different ways.

She tries to speedrun through everything. It's probably because she has a million things to do and is trying to fit 12 hours of work into an 8 hour workday. I try to be sympathetic and understanding of that. But one of her methods for speeding things along is attempting to use her psychic powers. You will start telling her what you need and she will do this thing where she cuts you off and tries to predict said need.

"I need a prescription for..." "Your thyroid meds are due, right? I'll send it over to the pharmacy." "...insulin. But I have a question about..." "So thyroid and insulin? No problem. I'll send it over." "...increasing my dosage." "Wait, what's yer question, hon?" "Was it 50 units..." "No, it's says 100. Okay? I'll send it over. Take care." "...twice per day or 100 units once in the morning?"

Often her predictions are so bad that it actually takes a lot more time to correct her than it would if she had just let you finish speaking. And this is especially problematic for me because I rehearse everything I need to say and she constantly interrupts and so I have to end up improvising new things to say that I never accounted for. And I'm already anxious and not thinking clearly so I do a poor job of explaining my needs and it just ends up in disaster.

So I have a complicated situation. I need my entire written chart copied and sent to my lawyer. I know it is a lot of work for the office staff. They probably have to copy several hundred pages. But this is probably the most important evidence in my disability case. And my lawyer has already volunteered to pay the several hundred dollars it will cost. It's worth it because if my case goes well, I could get years of back pay.

I call and get the young woman whom I really like on his staff. She is very quiet and unassuming but secretly the star of the office. Like a ninja of competence. If you really need something done properly without mistakes, she is the best one to go to. But her job does not include handling the records, so she transfers me to the office nurse. The office nurse does not process new information well. You often have to explain things several times. And if she gives up trying to understand, she hands you off to the office manager.

The Final Boss, if you will. I was really hoping I could avoid that.

"Okay, so my lawyer needs all of my written records..."

"He needs to fax a form saying what he needs, okay honey?"

"He already faxed a release form asking for records and I brought in a new copy yesterday with all of his mailing information..."

"He didn't fax anything. He needs to tell us what he needs. I'm not seeing any form. Just tell him to call me."

"He is out sick today and he already faxed the form and I brought a second one just in case. I signed it and dated it and I watched Competence Ninja put it in my chart. It asks for everything..."

"Okay, I see it here. This doesn't look right. He needs to tell us what he needs us to send him."

"It says in the letter, 'to release any medical information, including medical records, written letters, treatment reports, testing results, or similar information.' Should it say something different?"

"I've been doing this 20 years and I've never seen anything like this. He needs to be more specific. I ain't sending him all that, hon."

"So, this is for my disability case. I already talked to the nurse about this. And I know it is a lot, but the doctor's records are the only direct evidence that I've been sick since 2001."

"So you just need something from 2001? Okay, the lawyer needs to fax something saying that."

"I need the entire handwritten chart copied and sent to the lawyer. We need a full record of my illness because..."

"This is ridiculous. You're lawyer is fucking lazy. I've never seen anything like this. And I'm worried he is not going to represent your interests."

"This is not a normal disability claim. If you'd allow me to explain I think you'd understand why I need..."

"Disability should already have all this. We shouldn't need to send this. This is fucking ridiculous and you need a new lawyer. You're going to lose your case with his lazy ass."

"This isn't normal disability. I need to prove that I've been sick for a long time and..."

"This is going to cost a fortune, you know? We charge 50 cents per page. You're going to be out hundreds of dollars."

"Okay, but I will be out thousands of dollars if I don't get this copied."

"Fuck it. I am going to copy this ONCE. No more after this. UNDERSTOOD?"

And... she hung up on me.

My heart was beating out of my chest with panic and my eyes were blurry with tears. And in that moment, I thought I had done something wrong. My doctor gave me his personal mobile number so I call him up with tears apparent in my voice. I explain what just happened and that I was really sorry and that I didn't mean to upset her. He told me she is "just like that sometimes" and I shouldn't take it to heart. They have a very serious deadline for something due that day and she was very upset and I was collateral damage. I asked him to apologize for me and he said there was no need. He said we'd work it all out on Monday when this deadline wasn't stressing everyone out.

It wasn't until I calmed down a bit that I realized I did absolutely nothing wrong. That she was just being a big jerk and taking her other problems out on me. And I was probably the one deserving of an apology. I also remembered this is not the first time she has blown up at me. She was the one who tried to make me get a ventilator instead of a proper CPAP machine years ago. She said, "My mom has one and it works fine." And I was like, "So if I travel I'm supposed to take 12 pounds of medical equipment instead of a 1 pound device that fits neatly into a backpack?"

I get why my doctor made excuses for her. She works very hard and puts up with him. He'd never be able to find anyone that would last a week doing that job. And I have a feeling he probably defended me after I called. I played what he said back in my brain and noticed a frustrated tone. Despite what he said, it seems clear he was pissed.

I can make amends and figure things out with her. That isn't an issue. But I am worried that between her and CPAP lady, all of the progress I've made trying to reduce my telephobia was erased. I really was getting better calling people. I used to need Katrina hanging out on Skype while I called anyone as moral support. And while it still helps, I've gotten a lot better at calling strangers on my own. But now, I'm not so sure.

I might ask if there is an office email address I can use from now on. If I can write out what I need there is no way to get interrupted. I can be clear and detailed and use my writing skills to communicate way better than my phone skills.

I don't know.

It was just a crappy way to end a stressful, exhausting week.

But it wasn't the end!

Friday evening my sick lawyer finally called. I had rehearsed all kinds of things I wanted to say to him. But it turns out, all of my emails already did most of the talking—proof that I write a great email. He was really impressed with all of my detective work. And he said if those records pan out, he is very optimistic about my case going forward. He also said that he was expecting a denial. And it was probably good that we got that out of the way quickly. And now we get to mount more of a defense, which is what lawyers are good at. We talked for about 20 minutes and came up with a battle plan. He explained the process going forward. But he mentioned one thing that worried me.

This could take a while.

A lot longer than I was expecting.

I explained that I currently have a runway until about June 2024. That's when the mortgage money runs out. However, my brother should be willing to release my inheritance in March. I hope. I have a hard time trusting anything my brother says anymore. But if he does, then I should have another year of mortgage payments. But I am definitely going to have a Plan B just in case my brother finds a new way to disrespect my father's wishes.

The lawyer said there is a quick thing and a long thing. The quick thing has a low chance of success. But it is worth trying. The long thing is a hearing with a Social Security lawyer. He said a lot of these lawyers are miserable and don't want to be there and don't really care. Which is a good thing because they'll just be like, "Fine, whatever." But it can take a long time to get a hearing due to backlogs.

So, as long as I can gather all the evidence and the hospital records have my ECT stuff, I think there is room for hope. A little hope. After years of chronic illness I know hope is sometimes dangerous. So I allot a tiny bit of hope to keep me going forward, but not enough hope to leave me devastated if things go tits up.

So... umm... I think that is the end of this novel of a post. I feel bad that I don't have a big climax or twist or cliffhanger. Should I add a big CGI dragon fight?

Even though a more down-to-earth kung fu fight with my brother would be a more satisfying conclusion?

Or I could pull an M. Night Shyamalan and reveal that I've been dead for quite some time.

This post is getting really long.

Why are you still reading this?

I am thankful that you are. I just needed to get all of that out. I hope I wrote it in a compelling way and you weren't bored.

I love you all.

[maximotts]

I just have this gut feeling that if you made yeehaw wanda dinner and forgot to make dessert, she’d just look at you with the biggest grin and go “Oh I’ll just have you for dessert, honey.”

Sorry for going a wild with this one I'm not sorry but I just… yeah.. this was supposed to be like three paragraphs max; @caroldantops said it didn’t need edits so blame them for any typos 💖

18+ only please . wc: 1.2k . cw: oral, dirty talk, oversensitivity, Wanda just being a silly cowgirl who wants kitchen table sex after a long week of hard work

Wanda cleaned her plate effortlessly, your long labored over dinner fully appreciated by the woman across the small kitchen table. “You must’ve spent all day on that stew and it was well worth it. What’s for dessert?”

It wasn’t an unfair question; typically every night ended with a sweet treat handmade by you, Wanda eagerly awaiting whatever surprise you had in store. But tonight you stayed seated, head hung low to mumble out your ashamed response, “I forgot.. I thought we had pie left, but I didn’t realize you’d snuck the last piece off to work with you until it was too late to make anything new. I’m sorry, Wands…”

The brunette was silent for a moment while you fidgeted nervously in your seat, tapping her fork against her plate as she thought over your mistake. “Come over here for a second, bunny, lemme talk to you.”

You rose from your seat slowly, rounding the table to hover at Wanda’s side. She pushed her plate far out of the way before pointing to the now clear surface, confusing you until she gently nudged you over, “Sit down, right in front.. there ya go.”

“Are you mad? I’m sure I can make find something in the cupboards to-“ But Wanda shushed you, scooting her chair forward once she’d settled in place between your legs. You felt terrible about forgetting one of your girlfriend’s favorite things; the only thing keeping you from tears was Wanda’s strong hands smoothing up your thighs. “Would you be opposed to going out? It’s the weekend, we could get ice cream.”

“Nah, I don’t want any of that,” Wanda shook her head, playing with the short hem of your dress. She could care less if you never made dessert for her again, all she wanted was time with you at the end of every long day. “I’ve got my dessert right here, honey.”

A curious eyebrow cocked down at her, confusedly searching for whatever sweet she was seeing that you couldn’t, “You didn’t forget to eat the pie at lunch, did you? Because it can’t be good anymore if it’s been sitting out all day…”

“Oh no, I ended up eating that way before break time, couldn’t help myself,” Wanda dragged you to the table’s edge, letting your dress ride up with it. The second she spied those pink lace panties she practically begged to let her buy for you, she fought not to rip them right off. “Thankfully you’re sweeter than any pie or cake in the world… You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you?”

The forwardness of it all made your entire face hot, Wanda's wolfish grin and shameless groping of your now exposed ass making you feel like captured prey. It wasn't the first time either, Wanda loved to overwhelm, to make you feel like the owned plaything you longed to be, but couldn't dare say aloud.... until she came along. She didn't mind if you were bashful about your desires, not in the slightest; if she was honest, it only served to turn her on more.

So when you nodded, whispering out a yes and spreading your legs to give her free reign where she couldn't wait to get her hands on, Wanda barely held back a feral growl. "That's a good girl. Now relax and let daddy get her fill of dessert."

She lifted you just enough to tug that temptatious lace off, tucking it in her back jeans pocket for safe keeping. Wanda had never been a patient woman, not in work and certainly not when it came to you. Tilting you back just enough, she hitched soft thighs over her strong shoulders and dove in, mouth devouring you as if she hadn't just eaten two helpings of dinner.

"Such a pretty little cunt... always so wet and ready, all for me," Wanda loved to mumble her way through eating you out, bestowing endless praise on the girl she grew helplessly drunk on. Your hands buried themselves in Wanda's hair, hips stuttering as her tongue rippled over your clit, "Go on, bunny, you can fuck yourself on my face if you wanna. Use me all you want."

And use her you did, rutting over the rough surface until your back arched and you were clamoring with your arms and legs to try to bring Wanda impossibly closer. You could've been ashamed of how needy your girlfriend made you in so short a time, but you knew she loved you just like this, willing and pliant, and all you ever wanted was to make her happy. "Can you go inside? P-Please..."

She had her tongue in you before you could finish your sentence, pushing deep as she could manage and your groan was so loud, Wanda swore it rattled the walls. It was enough to leave her grinding against the ridge at the front of her chair; you always managed to do such a number on her, Wanda's head already swirling with ideas how to have you help her get off in bed later.

"Wanda.. Wands, I'm so-" The tip of her nose bumped against your clit as she tongue fucked you as best she could in time with your erratic thrusts. It dawned on you that you were going to cum on her face, right on the kitchen table Wanda'd built with her own two hands out back and you've never been so in love.

When that coil in your belly finally snapped, you swore you blacked out for a minute, the euphoria too great for your body to cope with. Your girlfriend worked you through your orgasm effortlessly, not minding how you suffocated her between your sex and thighs, lapping every drop of wetness she could before you leaked onto the table.

Pulling away was hard, but you were panting so heavily, Wanda knew she had to lay you back before you fell, prying your legs apart to safely lower you down. She laid her head on the top of your thigh, using her fingers now to play in the mess she'd made while you still twitched and shook. "Best dessert anyone could ever get, honey. You're such a gift..."

"You're sure you're not mad? Even a little?" Your question was still quiet, tone wavering as earlier insecurities crept in again. Wanda hated hurting your feelings; even though you insisted she be honest with you, she'd clocked your sensitivity from day one and always covered up any frustrations with you as best as possible.

But Wanda was too busy smothering your legs with kisses, marking your inner thighs with love bites to worry about one night of missed baked goods. "I'd never be mad over something so silly. I'm lucky enough to have my sweetheart to come home to every single evening."

The brunette sat up then, only to bend over when your arms reached out for her. It was a painfully awkward angle, but she could care less, brushing the hairs that'd shaken loose from your pigtails back behind your ears. Wanda had that silly grin on her face again, the one you couldn't help but melt for, and just like that you felt yourself smiling right back at your girlfriend. "You're so sweet to me, Wanda, it's adorable."

"I love ya, you've got nothing to worry about, bunny." As her lips met yours, Wanda fiddled with the thin bow on the front of your dress, her free hand hitching your leg over her hip to press your bare lower half to her denim-covered one. "Now... am I adorable enough to get a second bit of dessert or do I have to sneak it again?"

[middlingmay]

Single dad Gale x Baseball coach Bucky AU Part 3 (Finale!)

Read Part 1 here.

Read part 2 here

Amie is convinced her dad is starting to get suspicious.

She saw the way he stared at Coach Egan when he picked her up from school. He barely blinked. He was definitely getting suspicious.

The Coach Egan tells the team their first game is in four weeks, and a very big clock in Amie's head starts to tick.

Because she's excited about the game and she wants her dad there. But when he finds out she lied, she's positive it's going to be one of the rare times he absolutely loses it.

Then, her next day in school Coach Egan wants to see her after practice. And he doesn't tip toe around the subject.

"Why does your dad think I'm your track coach, Amie?"

A habit she'd inherited from her dad, Amie flushes read like she's just been caught in the cookie jar. She tries to stammer and bluster her way out of it, but there's no mirth on coach's face and she stops talking completely.

"Does he even know you're on the team?"

She shakes her head.

"He should. He'd be proud of you."

She doesn't mean to scoff but it comes out anyway. Her dad will be too busy being furious to be proud of anything.

And that's when Coach Egan upends her whole twelve-year-old world.

"You tell about the team, and have him sign a new slip, which he'll hand in to me himself by next practice. Or I'm sorry Amie, but you can't be on the team. And I'll have tell your dad about this myself."

She doesn't like this stern side of the coach and runs out of his office upset and embarrassed.

At home, she storms right up to her room, ignoring her dad calling after her.

After a good scream into her pillow, she writes I Hate Coach Egan several times over in her journal. But then she feels terrible and rips the page out and stuffs it in the trash.

She resolves that she's not going to next practice, or any practice ever again, so there's nothing to tell her dad. It breaks her heart a little (a lot), but she'd rather that than face the music.

It takes her dad a few days to clock on. But he does notice her despondency. When he asks about track which usually always has her so chipper, she tells him she was cut from the team.

Gale is incensed and threatens to march down to the school and give them a piece of his mind. But Amie begs him not to and he reluctantly agrees.

Until he finds a crumpled up bit of paper that says I Hate Coach Egan on it over and over again.

He takes a day off work - a day he knows Amie never used to have practice and schedules a meeting with Egan for 11am when she's still in class.

He storms into that office and Egan goes from pleased to alarmed in half a second.

"What the hell did you say to my girl?!"

Egan looks a little miffed himself at that and starts to get out of his chair, but Gale slams the bit of paper down on his desk.

Egan looks at it and frowns, and dares to look hurt, even. "Jeez, Cleven. A little harsh."

And that unleashes all of Gale's fury. He lets all his frustrations out and berates Egan for getting kids' hopes up and claiming to build their confidence, only to tear them all down. Only caring about winning and not about the kids. He calls Egan callous and cruel and grits his teeth and clenches his fists to stop himself from reaching across the table and strangling this man.

When he says Amie refuses to so much as even talk about track anymore, Egan finally cuts him off.

"That's what she told you? Track? Do I look like a track coach to you? Buck, I only run if there's a base at the other end or there's a dog on my ass."

Gale does not understand a single word he's saying. "What?"

"Bad weekend in Germany." The Egan calls in the Assistant Coach and tells him to fetch Amelie Cleven, pronto. "I think you're better hearing this from her," he says.

He invites Gale to sit but he doesn't. He just stares at Egan, half scowling, half bewildered until finally a very sorry looking Amie is ushered into the office.

She refuses to look at her dad or Coach Egan, but the latter is well versed in sullen pre-teens by now. He asks Amie if there's anything she wants to tell her dad. Gale wants to tell him to back off, but he sees how guilty Amie looks and he doesn't know which way is up.

"What is going on, Amie?"

And it all comes spilling out. Amie loving baseball and knowing he wouldn't approve of her trying out, never mind joining the team. About forging his signature on the permission slip for try outs (John shows him the form) and lying to him for weeks.

Gale hasn't ever felt such a mix of sadness, disappointment, anger and guilt. But it's all aimed at himself. He feels like a failure, that his daughter didn't feel like she could come to him. And that she was probably right - he wouldn't have reacted well.

"You shouldn't have lied to me, Amie," is all he can say.

Amie's eyes fill with tears and Gale thinks his might, too, and Egan gently breaks in.

"Mr Cleven. I know it's not my business. But Amie is good. Really good. And the team love her. you said yourself that she enjoys it and it's helped her build confidence. is it really so bad if she plays?"

Gale's slumped on the chair in front of Egan's desk and Amie sidles up to him and plays with the hem of his sleeve like she's not sure she's allowed.

"I'm sorry I lied. But I really want to play, daddy."

An oh, she hasn't called him daddy in years. She knows, it, he knows it, and judging by the smirk Egan is trying to hide, he goddamn knows it to. But she's pulling out the big guns.

Gale can't help himself. Never can when it comes to his daughter. He folds her into his arms and holds her tight. He murmurs his own apologies into Amie's ear and where she can't see, he waves for Egan to get him a fresh slip and a pen.

Gale gently pushes Amie back and holds up the other piece of paper that brought him here. "I think you have something to say to Coach Egan, don't you?"

Flush and wide-eyed, Amie rushes out, "I don't hate you! Was...just mad when you said I couldn't play 'less my dad said so."

Egan accepts her apology gracefully and tells her he expects her at the next practice, and she can stay late to help him clean up to make up for everything - and Gale agrees.

Equal amounts relieved and humbled, Gale ushers Amie back to class, and mumbles a very hasty goodbye to Egan. Without looking him in the eye, he beats a hasty retreat

He's outside and halfway back to his car when he hears, "Mr Cleven!" behind him.

Egan jogs after him and stops a foot away, hands on his hips.

"I can't keep calling you Mr Cleven. What's your name?"

"Gale."

Without missing a beat, Egan says, "Nice to meet you, Buck. Name's John."

And then Gale is trying to stumble out an apology. "Look. I'm sorry I -"

"Can I take you out?"

Gale feels thoroughly derailed. "I..is that - is that allowed?"

John says "Yes!" very quickly and is almost shy as he rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, I mean, I can check. Again."

Despite himself, Gale chuckles. He feels a thrill of excitement and nerves. He's not dated anyone since Marge. But John is beautiful and charming and apparently very forgiving.

So he bites his lip and cocks his head and says, "Sure. Let's paint the town red."

-

Fin.

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 108

"Hey, Steve," I whispered, sitting down in front of the gravestone, the grass prickling against the bare skin of my legs. The summer heat had been relentless these past few days, and the stone felt warm beneath my fingertips. Coming here alone had been tough, but I would have to get used to doing many things by myself in the future.

I was giving Bucky the space he asked for. He’d called me last night, but I was in the shower when it happened. I thought about calling him back, but part of me hesitated. Maybe I wanted to respect his need for space, or maybe I was afraid he wouldn't answer. Either way, he didn’t call again, and I convinced myself that he would if it was really important. But the silence felt heavier than I expected, like a knot tightening in my chest.

I traced the letters of Steve’s name, the familiar shape of each line grounding me for a moment. "I wish you were here," I murmured, feeling the sting of tears I’d been holding back. "I feel so alone in that huge house."

I had thought about selling the house and moving back to Brooklyn. It was a beautiful place, full of light and warmth, and there was so much space—perfect for a big family. I could imagine other people's children running and laughing in the backyard, their joy echoing off the trees. But mine never would.

The emptiness of it all seemed to swallow up the laughter that should have been there. The rooms felt too large, the silence too heavy. It was as if the house was waiting for something that would never come.

"Sometimes, I just wish I could have gone with you," I whispered, my voice breaking as tears welled up. My fingers traced the edges of the gravestone, feeling its heat against my skin. "Living feels like a mistake... If you’re up there... if you’re with our son... I don’t want to be here anymore."

Bucky was the only reason I’d held on, the one thing tethering me to this life. But now, he’d decided that it was all too much. There was nothing left keeping me here anymore, and the emptiness was swallowing me whole. My mind drifted to dark places I tried so hard to avoid.

I didn’t want to stay at the cemetery any longer, but the thought of going back to that empty, echoing house felt even worse. And I couldn’t show up at Bucky’s doorstep—not now, not like this. The weight of it all crashed down, and I buried my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face. The sudden buzz of my phone startled me. I fumbled to pull it from my bag, my heart leaping when I saw Sam’s name on the screen.

"Hey, Sam," I said, my voice shaky despite my best attempt to sound normal. It felt strange hearing from him after so long, especially after everything we'd been through together. We'd shared so much when we were on the run, but since Thanos was defeated, we had hardly spoken.

"Hey, what's up? It's been a while, so I thought I'd give you a call. How are you doing?" he asked his tone light but with a hint of concern underneath. He sounded cheerful, but there was a hesitation in his voice like he already knew things weren’t great.

I hesitated, unsure how much to say. "I'm... managing. It's just—" I paused, my voice catching, "—it’s been tough, you know?"

Yeah, I get that," he said. "Listen, why don’t you come down here for a while? I’m in Louisiana with my family. It might be good for you—a change of pace. What do you think?"

I paused, the idea sinking in. I had never been to Louisiana before, and everything around me lately felt like a constant reminder of Steve. Maybe getting away from it all, even for a little while, was exactly what I needed. "You know what? That actually sounds like a great idea."

"Great! We’re having a big barbecue this weekend—why don’t you join us? I’ll send you the details," he said, the relief clear in his voice.

"Sounds good... and, uh, thanks, Sam. This couldn't have come at a better time," I admitted, thinking back to the dark thoughts I’d had just moments before.

"Anytime. See you then!" he replied before hanging up with a click.

I sighed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I looked back at Steve's name etched into the stone. "I don’t know if you had anything to do with that, but... thanks," I whispered, wiping away a tear.

Three days later, Sam picked me up from the airport. The hot Louisiana air felt thick and almost suffocating, but even so, I’d rather be here than alone in Brooklyn.

"Hey, it's good to see you," he greeted me with a warm hug, a big smile lighting up his face. Already, I felt a little lighter.

On the drive from the airport to his place, we talked about the weather, the incredible food here, and his family. Not once did he mention Steve or ask how I was coping, and for that, I was grateful.

The house was nestled by a lake, surrounded by woods; it reminded me a little of the fishing cabin where we’d stayed while on the run, but this place was much larger and felt more open. Sam introduced me to his sister, Sarah, and her two sons, AJ and Cass. They welcomed me as if we’d known each other for years, making me feel at home right away.

Sarah showed me the room I’d be staying in—a spacious bedroom with a large bed and its own bathroom. It felt cozy and comfortable, a perfect place to escape for a while.

At least that’s what I thought until I found out they had invited Bucky too. The barbecue was already in full swing—people chatting, drinking, and waiting for their burgers. That’s when I spotted him, talking to Sarah. They seemed to be getting along well, judging by the smile on her face.

He’d cut his hair and shaved, looking different, almost like a weight had been lifted. He even smiled at her, which made me hesitate. I thought about slipping back into my room, avoiding the whole situation, but the barbecue could go on all night.

"Look who’s here!" Sam called out as I stood frozen on the porch. Bucky turned, and for a moment, his smile faded, his eyes locking onto mine. But then he quickly recovered, noticing the people around us. He grabbed Sam by the arm, pulling him aside to whisper something in his ear.

I caught a bit of their exchange as Sam led me toward the others. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said before turning his attention back to me with a welcoming grin.

"Hey," Bucky greeted, lifting his beer casually, though there was a slight tension in his eyes.

"Hey," I replied, forcing a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

Bucky turned to Sam, his tone light but pointed. "Yeah, right back at you. Someone forgot to mention that."

Sam laughed, giving both of us a pat on the back. "Must have slipped my mind. Anyway, I’m starving," he said, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Sarah glanced between us, sensing the tension. "I'll see you around then, Bucky," she said, quickly excusing herself and leaving us alone.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to ease the awkwardness. "New look?" I asked, attempting to break the ice.

"Uh, yeah, it was time," he replied, tapping his foot nervously, his gaze shifting around us. "Listen, I can leave if this is too awkward for you."

I scoffed, my arms crossing defensively. "You were the one who said you couldn’t be around me anymore."

He shook his head, frustration evident in his eyes. "That's not what I said! I just needed some space... I called you, and you never called me back..."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off. "You said to call you if I needed anything, and I did call, but nothing—no text, nothing." His voice was rising, and I could see agitation building within him.

"I'm sorry, okay? I was hurt!" I stammered, my voice quieter but still laced with emotion.

"That's why I stayed away in the first place," he said, shaking his head, frustration etched on his features. "We would just end up hurting each other."

"Well, it didn’t work," I replied, a lump forming in my throat. "I’m hurt, but I’ll respect your wishes. I’ll give you the space you want." I took a step back, trying to create some distance between us.

"This isn’t about what I want," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He shook his head again and downed the rest of his beer in one swift motion as if hoping to wash away the tension hanging between us.

Just then, Sam returned with two plates piled high with burgers. "Who wants some burgers?" he called out, handing one to me.

"Thanks," Bucky murmured, his gaze already drifting toward one of the tables further away, where he took a seat, clearly eager to put some distance between us.

I turned to face Sam, raising an eyebrow. "Did you do this on purpose?"

He looked guilty, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. "Well, he kept bugging me about how he screwed up and didn’t know how to fix things," he admitted. "So, I thought a little push might help. You can't fix things if you don't talk." He leaned in closer, a hint of encouragement in his voice. "So... talk."

I sighed, feeling the weight of Sam's words. "I wish it was that easy, Sam."

"Well, you've got plenty of time; he's staying at the house too," Sam said with a grin before he disappeared back into the crowd.

My gaze shifted to Bucky, and I felt my mouth fall open in surprise. He was staring at me, his burger untouched on the plate. A look of discomfort crossed his face when he realized I was watching him, and he quickly turned his attention to Sarah, who had settled down next to him.

Their laughter echoed in my ears, and I felt a knot tightening in my stomach. The warmth of the barbecue seemed to fade, replaced by the chill of uncertainty.

Next Chapter

[mastermindmiko]

Secrets

Pairing: Remus Lupin + fem!reader

Word count: 1411

Summary: You and Remus have been together for a while. He's been keeping secrets and you've had enough.

Warnings: negative emotions? breaking up. angst with a happy ending

an: two marauders posts? is this beginning of an era?

hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Remus this has been keeping secrets. The reason why I know this is because I know him, or at least I thought I did.

Even before we became official, I always knew that he was hiding something. His disappearances, his mother's illnesses, and his father's random need to need him back home. And even, dare I say it, his scars. I love them in every way. I don't believe that they are flaws like he does, instead, I believe that they only enhance his appearance. However, I do understand that it is unusual for a teenage boy to have them littered across all his body and his face starting from even his first year.

This thing that he had to hide, it never bothered me before. Maybe because I was spending less time with him or maybe because I didn't love him back then. Since we've become official about a year ago, I started to notice it a bit more since he will randomly be very opposed to going out at certain times. Or he would snap at me when we are simply studying together.

I always understood because I get it. His world isn’t supposed to revolve around me? He doesn't have to tell me everything but it's hard to be understanding when you don't really know what you're supposed to understand.

I never pressure him even though I know that it's eating me inside. Maybe they need to help him too, because every time he randomly disappears or goes to help his father, or check up on his mother. I feel like the shine in his eyes dims every time.

I want to help, I want to know what makes the boy I love hurt. I want to make it go away and maybe even fight it to do so.

What hurts me the most is that his friends know. James, Sirius and Peter, all all know, but he never once told his own girlfriend. I would try to find out myself, but I wouldn't want to invade his privacy. Instead, I wait for him to come to me, if he comes...

"Maybe we can go out next weekend instead." Remus suggests, and I frown, it's supposed to be this weekend, not any other one. I ask, "Why not this one?"

"I have-"

"Things to do, your father needs you, there's a prank you need to pull. What excuse are you going to give me this time?" I snap, I shouldn't have, but this weekend is important. If I'm being honest, I could've listed off all the excuses he's given me for hours. I had them all memorized.

"You don't need to act like this. I don't have to go out with you every weekend, we spend enough time together as it is. I don't have to explain myself, I said next weekend." He snaps, and a part of me feels like I deserve it for getting angry first, but I still feel the ache in my chest.

I gulp as I watch him gather his books in a huff and leave the library. When I can no longer see him, I cover my face with my hands and a few tears fall. I feel pathetic, but can you blame me for not wanting to spend our anniversary alone?

~~~

I'm going to talk to him, I'm going to find out what he's been hiding and we're going to talk about it because this is a relationship, he doesn't get to keep secrets as long as they effect me.

It's been a few days since I had that fight? with Remus. I've barely seen him around, but in a way, it helped me.

I first went insane trying to think of what he's been hiding. The possibilities of him cheating have come to mind several times, thinking about why, with who, and when, but ultimately I decided that Remus wouldn't cheat, at least I hope not.

Then came the idea that he might not love me anymore, but he's only told me that he did two months ago, so could he have loved me and then stopped so quickly? I didn't know, what I knew is that I did still love him, and if he didn't love me anymore, I'd rather not waste my time and postpone the heartbreak.

It was after breakfast, and I heard a few first years talking about how the famous Gryffindor boys (Remus, James, Sirius and Peter) were in the hospital wing. I assumed of course that it was because of a failed prank, wouldn't be the first time one of those happen.

I knew Remus was too smart to get involved in anything that could fail, so I assumed that he would be fine. I reached the hospital wing, and Peter's the first one that saw me. He tapped Sirius who looked at me, eyes went wide, then tapped James who had done a similar reaction.

Peter quickly closed the curtains around one bed, and they all came rushing to me, all of them, except Remus. I panic, I rush over to them, but they meet me half way and start turning me around the opposite way. I say, "Is Remus okay? why's he here? what happened?"

I sputter a lot more questions but they already have me out of the wing. They all look panicked possibly more than me. James speaks out first, he rubs a sheepish hand to the back of his neck and says, "Remus is fine, he just had a bit of a headache this morning."

"Well, if he's fine, then I can go see him." I say, and try to push past them, but they hold both my arms to steady me in place. Sirius says, "Yes, but uh- he doesn't want a lot of noise, so we can't let you go in there."

"And of course, when someone wants some peace and quiet they go to you guys." I say, pointedly and give them all unconvinced look because I was unconvinced. Why were they hiding my boyfriend from me? Unless...my boyfriend is the one that wanted to be hid from me. I frown, "Does Remus not want to see me?"

The boys stutter around and look at each other panicked, wondering what to say. They all begin sentences unsure, and it only makes my frown deepen, he doesn't want to see me. James says, "Of course, he wants to see you, just not right now."

Sirius elbows him when he notices my expression turn sadder after James' words. I nod my head and I feel my eyes begin to burn. No, I wasn't going to cry and especially not in front of them, they'd tell Remus in a flash. I take in a deep breath, and say, as steadily as I can, "Well, I wouldn't want to force myself on him, so, uh, tell him I hope he gets well soon, and that we need to talk."

I can see their faces change after I say those last few words. It wasn't a secret that 'we need to talk' was the beginning of every break up talk in the world, but I didn't want that to happen. I loved Remus, we just needed to improve our communication.

I head back to the common room, and on my way there, I can't think of anything else, but the fact that Remus didn't want to see me. My thoughts trace back to the idea that he doesn't love me anymore. They go downhill from there, and I ask myself, what if he really is cheating? Maybe he's too busy with another girl to notice the one he already has.

I bump into someone, and I notice who it is by the flaming red hair. Lily grabs my forearms to steady me and herself, making sure neither of us falls. She chuckles, "Sorry about that, I wasn't looking at where I was going- are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say and I give her an unconvincing half assed smile. she frowns and I bitterly chuckle, "Things just haven't been going well with Remus lately."

She turns white and starts to fumble. She avoids my gaze and shifts on her feet. She stutters, "He's got a lot going on lately, he's been busy with...um stuff. I'm sure it'll be over in a few days."

"He told you." I say and it's a revelation that shocks me. He told Lily. He told James, Sirius, Peter and Lily, but not his girlfriend. She starts to fumble for excuses, but it doesn't matter because I already make my away past her and get to common room as fast as I can. I need to be alone.

Luckily, my dorm is empty. People have already gone to classes, but I don't think I can. My heart sinks and I can't believe that my boyfriend doesn't trust me with whatever secret he's got. I try to stop the tears that start flowing, but I cant.

He forgot our anniversary, and he's keeping secrets, secrets that he's told everyone close in his life, but me. A secret that he's been hiding for who knows how long. He doesn't want to see me either. I sob harder and I keep on asking myself what's going on in this relationship that is beneficial for me, and isn't' hurting me.

Maybe it's time that Remus and I break up.

~~~

"Hi, James told me that you wanted to talk." Remus says, two days later. He catches me right as I'm about to leave for another lesson. I check my watch, I have ten minutes before I need to get to class, maybe now's the time to do this.

"I do want to talk."

"James told me that it's going to be something bad, but I know you, I know us. I told him it was nothing." Remus chuckles and I feel myself getting guilty. I push that feeling away, I wasn't the one keeping secrets. I don't say anything in reply and Remus' grin fades.

"It's nothing, right?" Remus asks, with a frown. He takes a few more steps towards me, and I feel my heart race like it always does when he's near. I realize I won't be able to do this if he's any closer. I place a hand between us and he stops.

I hop on the desk, and I avoid his gaze. This should be simple I'm the one who decided, it isn't like he's the one ending this, I am. I look at him, take in a break then exhale. I say, "I think we should break up."

I didn't think anything could've hurt me more that what Remus has done to me, but the look on his face after I said those six words...nothing can describe it. I takes a step closer to me and I shuffle away. The pain becomes etched deeper into his face.

He still reaches out a hand and grabs mine. He looks up at me and his eyes water. He stutters, "B-but why? I love you. Don't you love me too?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why are you doing this? I don't want to break up. I don't ever want to break up. I actually think this happened in a nightmare before." Remus says, and his tears escape his eyes one by one. I say, "Because you're keeping things from me, Remus."

"I don't want to break up, but there's something going on with you, and you don't want to tell me about it-"

"I can't-"

"Yes you can, you very well could when you told James and Sirius. Peter and Lily, you told them all but not me. This isn't about you keeping something to yourself, this is about you trusting me." I explain, I sniffle, I didn't notice when I started crying. I say, "You even forgot our anniversary."

His face comforts with realization. He smacks a hand to his head, and he grips my hand with both of his and he squeezes. He pleads, "I'll make it up to you, please."

"That's not enough-"

"I'll spend every free moment I have with you."

I shake my head and lower my gaze to the floor. He says, "I'll buy you gifts, so many you won't be able to count them. Please, I don't want to lose you. I love you."

"I want you to tell me."

"I can't...you'll hate me." Remus says, and he looks down to the ground. I say, "You're losing me by not telling me."

He doesn't say anything, and I believe he's contemplating walking out right now. It would hurt, but it would make the getting over him process much easier. He takes in a deep breath, and he holds my hand tighter. I realize that he's going to tell me. He opens his mouth then closes it. I say, "Take your time."

"I-I'm a werewolf." Remus says, and I have to say, it makes sense. The scars, the attitude, everything. Even his disappearances happen on a monthly basis, it adds up in every way. I'm surprised, but it doesn't change anything. I say, "Okay."

"I tell you my biggest and possibly only secret and you're answer is okay." Remus says, and I nod my head. I shrug my shoulders and say, "What do you want me to say? It makes sense."

"I doesn't change the way you think of me." Remus asks, and I furrow my eyebrows. I hesitate before saying, "I think it makes you sexier."

"what?"

"You know, I just-" I stutter and flush pink, "It's just so brave that you go through that every month and you know these are kind of like your battle scars."

I smile sheepishly and trace on of the scars on his arms. He looks at me incredulously and he chuckles a bit. He repeats, "You think it makes me sexier? but werewolf are classified as monsters."

"You're a cute, sexy, book-loving, sock folding monster then." I chuckle and he does the same thing. He presses a kiss to my forehead and he wraps his arms around me in a big hug. I mutter, "I really wish you could've told me sooner."

"I didn't want you to hate me."

"I don't think I could ever hate you." I say, and he looks at me as if he doesn't believe me, I'll make him believe eventually. He lowers his head and places a smooth, loving kiss on my lips. He asks, "Am I forgiven?"

"Give me more of those kisses and then we'll talk."

[inairbinad]

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire!

part one of seven | 4.9k | AO3 Now Complete!

Where Eddie wakes up a little bit different, Steve is obsessed, and Dustin gets his Meddling Kids Platinum Badge™. I know I posted a couple teasers from the last chapter of this over the weekend, but friendly reminder that this is primarily an idiots to lovers fic, and they take their sweet ass time getting there. Warnings: None for this part, except the obvious mentions of blood.

Steve didn’t ever really leave Eddie’s bedside, while he was sleeping. The only breaks he took were to shower or go visit Max down the hall. Most nights he stayed past visiting hours, the nursing staff having long given up on trying to stop him falling asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair—oftentimes with Lucas's head resting on his shoulder.

One of those nights, with Steve already leveled with exhaustion and barely holding his own head up, Robin came in to sit with him.

“Steve,” she all but whispered.

“I’m okay, Rob,” he said automatically. “Just gonna rest my eyes for a bit, then I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Robin said, sounding fondly annoyed. “Nancy’s gonna drive me. But—don’t you think you should go home and get some rest?” she tried.

They’d had this conversation every day for the last three, now. Steve hadn’t yet relented.

“I’m just gonna worry if I go home,” he said honestly. “I won’t sleep. At least here I know they’re both still breathing.”

Eddie had made strides in that regard, at least; they’d extubated him earlier that day. There still weren’t any signs of him waking up, though, and there was no change at all with Max.

Robin sighed, apparently having expected that answer. She was quiet for a minute, as they both listened to the slow beep of Eddie’s heart monitor.

“Can I ask you something?” Robin asked, voice still low. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, to be clear.”

Steve had an idea of what was coming next and let it happen anyway.

“Sure,” he said.

“This,” she started, gesturing towards Steve slumped in his chair, “is more than just guilt, isn’t it?”

Of course Robin knew. She always went on about how she couldn’t read social cues very well, but Steve couldn’t ever get anything past her. Maybe it was their “telepathic brain thing” that Dustin always complained about them doing. Sometimes it weirded Steve out a little, but right now he was just grateful for it. For Robin.

“No,” he said. His voice sounded small. “It’s hardly guilt at all, really.”

Robin just made little humming noise to herself. Steve took that to mean she wanted him to keep going.

“I mean, I wish we’d done things differently, obviously” Steve said, laughing bitterly so that he wouldn’t cry instead. He’d go back and do things over a thousand times not to end up here again. “I wish I’d stayed with him and Dustin, maybe. Or dealt with Jason when we’d had the chance…” he trailed off, thinking of Max down the hall, Lucas’s swollen face, and the way Erica jumped at every loud noise now. “I’d do a lot differently—or I wouldn’t do it at all. But I blame Vecna more than I blame myself, believe it or not.”

He couldn’t quite figure out what Robin was thinking, or what the look she was giving him meant. Her eyes were soft, a little sad, but also something else.

“I just,” Steve started, but he didn’t know how to say it out loud. Except he knew Robin was waiting for him to, and that she’d be proud of him if he did. The promise of that propelled Steve forward. “I can’t lose him, Robin. Not when I just got him.”

Steve didn’t think he had Eddie, not really. He just knew how Eddie’s teasing grin made his insides warm. How whichever pet name for Steve fell out of his lips at any given moment made him almost forget the apocalypse they were fighting together. Steve didn’t need to have Eddie as his own, he thought. He just needed to know he was alive, that Steve had more days ahead of Eddie invading his personal space, and leaving Steve breathless when he left his scent of smoke and something spicy in his wake.

“You won’t,” Robin said, something steely in her voice now as she grabbed Steve's hand and squeezed. “Neither of them are going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

Steve did his best to believe her.

———

On the seventh morning of Eddie’s hospital stay, Steve dragged himself into Eddie’s room like usual. Coffee didn’t really do much to quell his exhaustion these days, but he sipped on some anyway as he got to his new routine. He played one of Eddie’s cassettes—quietly, as he’d gotten plenty of dirty looks from the nurses for being too loud before—humming along as he pulled a chair up next to Eddie’s bed. He was so still, Steve couldn’t help reaching out to thread his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, just to feel his pulse still beating away.

This time it stuttered under Steve’s touch. That was new. Steve looked at Eddie’s face, confused. He looked peaceful, like this. His skin was still cool to the touch, but his breathing was even, pulse slow and now jumpy. Was that a good sign?

“Hey, Munson,” Steve said, settling in. He let his grip around Eddie’s wrist loosen, leaving his hand to cover Eddie’s own instead. “It’s been seven days in here, now. Three since you’ve been breathing on your own again. Max is still asleep, too. I wish I had better news. Dustin misses you. I miss you,” Steve sighed and tried to think of something cheerful to share.

“The press does seem to be buying the government’s alternate serial killer theory, since it’s simpler than ’Satan did it,’ I guess. Wayne said the police are working on closing the case against you, so that’s a relief, at least.” Steve dropped his head into his free hand. What good was clearing Eddie’s name if he wouldn’t wake up to see it himself?

“I was wondering why I wasn’t handcuffed to the bed,” a surprisingly smooth and awake voice said above him.

Steve’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. Eddie was looking down at him already, his brown eyes darker, somehow. But they were open, bright, and alive. Steve felt his mouth stretch into a wide grin. He didn’t know what to say for what felt like a long time, just smiling stupidly at Eddie.

“Disappointed by that?” Steve finally replied, then immediately felt like kicking himself. Here Eddie was, waking up from a coma, and Steve couldn’t even figure out how to say something normal. Something like, how are you feeling or can I get you some water, sprang to mind too late. But apparently all Steve’s stupid little brain could manage was something not-so-vaguely flirtatious under Eddie’s gaze.

But Eddie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if Steve wasn’t totally deluding himself, it seemed like Eddie liked it. He didn’t blush, but he looked flustered. Hungry. Steve let that revelation settle deep into his bones, warm and pooling like syrup.

Then he got his shit together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He was still cold. Eddie’s gaze flicked down to Steve’s neck and back. If Steve hadn’t been analyzing Eddie’s every move—for any sign that he might break, might fall back into a coma, might leave again—he’d have probably missed it.

“Starving,” was all Eddie said with a devilish grin.

Steve watched, somewhat dazed, as Eddie let the doctors marvel over his recovery for about forty-five minutes before checking himself out against medical advice. His bites had already scarred over, completely healed in somewhat miraculous fashion. The doctor’s seemed mildly concerned about Eddie’s circulation, given how much blood he’d lost and how slow his pulse still was. But all of his tests were normal, had been for days now. He didn’t seem to have any muscle atrophy, no loss of brain function. He was just Eddie.

So Steve didn’t argue when Eddie asked him to drive him home as soon as possible. Steve wheeled Eddie down the hall to visit Max before he took him back to the motel where Wayne was staying. Eddie had complained loudly about the wheelchair, only relenting when Steve gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “Humor me.”

They sat with Max for a while, sobering Steve’s giddiness at Eddie’s complete turnaround. But Steve knew if anyone had the strength in them to do the same, it was Max Mayfield.

No one was here visiting yet—it was still early by anyone but Steve’s standards. So they took their time talking to her, Eddie giving her the daily update like Steve had done for him. He gave Steve a knowing grin as he said, “We all miss you, Red.”

Steve was too busy looking at his feet in embarrassment, so he didn’t notice Eddie hopping out of his wheelchair at lightning speed.

Then Eddie was in his space again, quicker than Steve had time to even account for. Eddie turned into Steve’s neck and whispered, “Cover for me, Stevie.”

Then he dipped down the hallway and into the stairwell.

Steve fumbled to recover for a minute, wondering what on earth had just happened. He looked to Max’s sleeping face as if maybe she’d know. Steve imagined her usual lazy shrug and his heart ached.

Sure enough, a minute later one of the younger nurses came looking for Eddie with discharge paperwork. Bewildered as he was, Steve could handle this part. He leaned against the door frame next to her and grinned.

“I think he went back to his room for something,” Steve said, before putting on the most convincing show of fake flirting he could muster. It still wasn’t his best—Steve was mostly still thinking of Eddie whispering into his neck and ear—but it worked well enough to distract her. Steve was actually surprised to see her face fall when he brushed her off for Eddie’s return.

Take that, Robin, he thought, picturing her damned tally board. Steve thought this whole endeavor probably warranted a point in the ‘You Rule’ column, but he didn’t care much. He was too busy watching Eddie saunter over to his side with his now-zipped jacket suspiciously full looking, and his grin bright.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand, shall we?”

Steve was too busy caught up in the thrill of Eddie—alive, probably healthy as Steve had ever seen him, laughing breathlessly as they made their escape to Steve’s car—to even ask what he’d been covering for. He wondered if they’d just robbed the hospital pharmacy.

Eddie seemed to wilt a bit once they got outside and the sun peeked out from behind a cloud overhead, hitting him straight in the face.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, ducking back into the shade by the doors. “Didn’t think of that.”

“What?” Steve asked, offering his sunglasses over. Eddie accepted them with a grateful smile, then took a tentative step back into the sunshine.

“It’s nothing,” he said, seeming to relax a little once the sunglasses were on. Steve couldn’t help but notice they looked good on him. “Help me to the car, would you?”

So Steve did, offering Eddie an arm to lean on as they made their way through the parking lot. Steve eyed him carefully, but didn’t ask questions.

Well, at least not until they got into the beemer. That’s when Eddie immediately pulled something out of his jacket—was that donated blood?—then tore into the bag and sucked its contents down like, well, water.

Then Steve had questions. The first of which being a hearty, “The fuck?”

Eddie drained the bag and let his head fall back to rest on the seat, exposing the column of his neck. Steve swallowed, cursing his brain to pay attention to what the hell was happening instead of being a slut for once. Eddie lolled his head to look at Steve and gave him a gleaming, bloody smile.

“So, funny story,” he paused. If Steve had to guess it must’ve been for dramatic effect. “I think I’m a vampire.”

———

Admittedly, the whole vampire revelation made Steve a little anxious in a what-in-the-Vecna-fuckery sort of way, but he didn’t trust Eddie any less over it. Just because he was on the slithering asshole’s radar, Steve didn’t understand why he’d have to worry about Eddie being mind-controlled by Vecna anymore that he did for Max or Will. The whole vampire bit was admittedly a curveball, but so was the rest of Steve’s life at this point.

All the same, Eddie himself had insisted that they give it a few days before letting him around the kids, to be sure. Dustin only gave it twenty-four hours before calling a “family meeting” and inviting everyone over to Steve’s. Steve had not been consulted, but what else was new?

So there he sat, Eddie sandwiched between himself and Robin on his couch, while Mike, Lucas, and Dustin took turns pacing in front of them.

The kids eventually devolved into having a rapid-fire debate about some dude called Kas—who apparently destroyed things? Steve wasn’t sure it really mattered. Dustin kept yelling something about Kas and betrayal, whatever that meant, but Mike was countering with something about evil and alignments. Steve guessed it wasn’t about any dark desires from a chiropractor.

Eddie had finally had enough of their bickering and whistled for them to shut up.

“Look, kiddos. I want a Vecna-free brain just as much as you guys. Well, more than you guys do,” he paused to fiddle with his rings. Steve wondered if they weren’t real silver, or if that was just a myth. Then he realized he’d thought all vampire-related things were myths up until yesterday. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Eddie continued. “If he is secretly hanging out in the ol’ noggin, I can’t tell. But don’t you all keep telling me about a girl with mind-reading abilities? Think she could suss him out?”

The room went silent, blessedly, for maybe one-and-a-half seconds.

“Genius!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Where’s El?" Mike asked Lucas at the same time.

“Will that work?” Lucas questioned over everyone else.

“One at a time, Jesus,” Steve cut in, rubbing his eyes. When he stopped, Eddie was looking at him with some emotion Steve couldn’t quite interpret. He stopped trying and turned back to the kids, who stood there staring at him like they were waiting for assignments. Steve sighed, and pointed at Mike. “You first, Wheeler.”

Mike turned to Lucas. “Was El still at the hospital when you left?”

She spent most of her time with either Hopper or Max these days, so it was a fair assumption.

“She was,” Lucas confirmed. “Is that something you think she can do?”

“Probably,” Mike shrugged.

“Definitely,” Will amended, speaking up for the first time in a while.

And so that’s how Steve ended up going to get El so she could “do a proper seance” on Eddie’s brain, as he’d put it.

“I don’t feel him,” El said about an hour later. “Your mind is strange.”

Robin failed to hide her snickering behind her hand.

“Believe me, kid, I know,” Eddie agreed with a grin.

With everyone more relaxed after that, Eddie regaled the kids with his tale of evading tipping off the nurses to his being awake while he pieced together that he’d woken up not quite…human.

“So I played dead,” Eddie told them and flopped on the floor like a sack of dead weight, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth and everything. Steve watched the hem of Eddie’s shirt ride up just far enough to give him a glimpse of the worst of his scarring. They already seemed to have faded again since the day before. “And hoped like hell I wouldn’t eat anyone before I could figure out how to get down to the blood bank. Then Stevie came to my rescue.” He flashed Steve an exaggerated wink and whisked himself back to his feet as he told everyone how waking up felt.

Eddie apparently had a lot of weird dreams while he was still under, too. When Dustin asked, Eddie explained how most were like watching his body turn cold, like steel—or dreams about blood. He recounted waking up and being overwhelmed by feeling almost everything around him, of being able to hear the heartbeat of the patient in the next room over before the monitor even registered it with a beep.

As an added bonus, Eddie also enjoyed showing off the fangs.

Steve had to work to control his face every time Eddie popped those out. Steve thought the fangs should be freaking him out, but they didn’t in the slightest. To the point where Steve thought maybe there was something wrong with his fight or flight response after one-too-many trips to a different dimension. A normal person would be scared, not inexplicably turned on by the thought of them sinking into the flesh of their neck.

In the interest of not exposing himself as a lovestruck idiot to absolutely everyone in the room—Robin absolutely already knew, based on the looks she’d been shooting him all afternoon—Steve excused himself to the patio for a smoke break. He didn’t usually smoke much anymore, unless he was drinking, largely due to Robin’s incessant nagging about it. But Steve was pretty sure if he had to keep his blossoming crush on his friend the vampire in check, he’d need a lot more nicotine to distract himself.

Except Eddie slid out of the patio door to join him. Steve offered him one from his own pack wordlessly. Eddie accepted with a toothy—but thankfully fang-free—grin.

“Do these do anything for you anymore?” Steve asked, suddenly curious.

“Not really,” Eddie shrugged. “I just wouldn’t know what to do with my hands if I quit. Or for an excuse to leave the room when I’m uncomfortable.”

Steve huffed out a nervous laugh, unsure if that was meant to be Eddie calling him out. Unwilling to really find out, Steve stayed quiet and stared up at the few stars that were starting to show themselves.

“Are you sure you wanna let me drive them home?” Eddie asked after a minute, staring determinedly at his shoes. Steve didn’t know what the hell to make of that question.

“I’m not your mother, Munson,” he tried for a lighter tone.

“True,” Eddie smirked, “but you’re kind of theirs, though.”

Fair, Steve thought. But he still wasn’t sure what Eddie was actually getting at. “What’s this about?”

Eddie sighed and stubbed out his cigarette with a frustrated flourish. “I guess I’m asking if you’re sure you trust me to be around them. By myself. When I’m like…this.”

Steve almost laughed, but managed to hold it in once he saw that Eddie was being serious. He was tucking into himself like a pill bug, like he was expecting the fear and revulsion to finally come rolling off of Steve in waves.

Steve had wondered if it was a delayed reaction on his part, as well, and if eventually he’d be disgusted or freaked out by the whole situation. So far those feelings showed no threat of surfacing, and Steve didn’t really think that they would, either.

Instead, all he felt was relief. He was relieved that Eddie was still alive. Or, well, kind of alive. He never really mastered the logistics of all the vampire movies Robin has made him watch. And really, after all of the Upside Down creatures that had tried to eat them over the years, Eddie seemed positively tame.

Most importantly, he seemed like himself.

So, gently, Steve reached his hand across the empty expanse between them and laid it on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own.

“I trust you,” Steve said, putting every ounce of sincerity he could muster into the look they shared. Eddie seemed to believe it, because after a moment he deflated, melting back to lean against the house. “And more importantly, so do they,” Steve added, jerking his head back towards the kids inside.

“Your trust is pretty important to me, too, Harrington,” Eddie admitted with an almost shy smile.

Steve sucked whatever he could out of the last dregs of his cigarette and prayed for the strength to survive being a total goner for Eddie Munson.

———

Max seemed to be improving physically, but there were still no signs of her waking up anytime soon. The longer she slept, and the more things deteriorated in town, the more everyone wanted to find Vecna and finish the job.

Soon enough they all coalesced around a plan to end the Upside Down nonsense once and for all. With El and Will back in town, and Eddie’s newfound enhanced abilities of his own, it didn’t take much. Especially once they realized their old friends the demobats were now more inclined to follow Eddie’s lead than “Old Slitherfuck,” as he called Vecna.

One spring night they snuck into the Upside Down one last time and ended things for good. Max woke up in Lucas’s arms the moment Vecna was done and dusted, and El closed the gates for what they all hoped was the final time.

And now? Well. Now everyone was trying to get back to normal. Or as normal as they could be when they had to figure out ways to steal blood for the vampire in their friend group.

So on they went, trying to settle into yet another new set of skin. Eddie was still wary of himself, Steve could tell, but he never withdrew into isolation or tried to convince everyone they were better off without him.

Which was good, because everyone wanted Eddie around that much more.

Dustin wanted nothing more than to test his abilities, and did test whatever Eddie would let him get away with. Robin asked if they could have vampire movie nights, or if Eddie would find that insensitive (he heartily agreed to it). Nancy had a million questions like the good reporter she was, and she and Dustin often piggybacked off each other’s ideas. Mike tended to go between staring at Eddie in awe and wondering if maybe his sexuality was just “people with superpowers.”

Or at least that’s what Steve and Robin assumed when no one else was listening (and Robin wasn’t pointing out Steve’s own crush on a certain vampire).

Steve was just doing his best to cope. He was getting used to the whole “Eddie Munson is now an undead vampire” situation. Really, he was.

Was he sometimes inexplicably a little bit jealous that he apparently didn’t get enough demobat venom to also be turned? Jealous that he wasn’t the one with superhuman strength and outright awe from the kids at his mere existence? If he was, Steve wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Because he knew where the jealousy was really coming from, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit how attractive he found Eddie’s new set of pearly whites, no matter how many times Robin tried to get him to.

With everyone’s support (and curiosity), it didn’t take very long for Eddie to finally relish his adaptation into an immortal being either. They’d determined that the sun was hard on him—it made him feel sluggish and itchy, “like Kryptonite"—but he didn’t burst into flame under its rays. Usually he just wore sunglasses and carried around an umbrella like an old-timey gentlewoman who didn’t want to accidentally gain a freckle.

Eddie had been a night-owl before, anyway, so nothing much had really changed there either. Silver didn’t hurt him, mirrors still worked on him, and garlic only made him sneeze. No one was willing to check if a wooden stake would do anything, and Eddie seemed as glad of that as Steve was. Other than the commanding an army of bats, invulnerability, and the obvious diet changes, Eddie didn’t seem all that different.

It was driving Steve wild.

The simplest of flirtatious remarks sent him into a tailspin most days. And Eddie was full of flirtatious remarks by default. The more Steve let on that the flirting flustered him, the more elaborate Eddie got with it.

Eddie’s retelling of his and Steve’s escape from the hospital became more embellished, as well. Steve didn’t exactly know what had happened before he’d arrived to visit that morning, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve a ravenous Eddie hanging upside down from the hospital ceiling to avoid being caught out of bed while he looked for the blood bank, like Eddie claimed.

Once, he was regaling Will and Dustin with his harrowing journey down into the basement on the “hunt for blood,” as he stood on top of the coffee table in Steve’s living room. (Steve did not have it in him to object to this, a bit of a double standard that Robin mocked him mercilessly over.) Steve was only half paying attention—he’d been there, thank you very much, he remembered what actually happened—from the kitchen while dumping a bag of chips into a bowl.

He perked up though when Eddie said, “Steve was pitifully flirting with a nurse for my benefit—“

“Hey!” Steve protested as he made his way back to the living room. He shoved the bowl into Eddie’s chest and flopped on the sofa next to Will. “She was into it.”

“I could tell your heart wasn’t in it, sweetheart,” Eddie said, and shot Steve a wink. It was so simple, barely even a blip on anyone else's radar, but it had Steve feeling heated through.

Steve tried not to melt into the floor as Will gave him a sideways glance. He did his best to ignore it. The last thing he needed was for someone other than Robin to needle him about his ridiculous behavior.

That particular desire was quickly snuffed out by one Dustin Henderson, though.

———

One day in May, Dustin cornered Steve on their way out of the Henderson house.

“Do you have a problem with Eddie?” Dustin asked him, point blank in his hallway. Steve was suddenly very grateful that Claudia was not at home at the moment.

“No?” Steve couldn’t help but let it become a question. Dustin narrowed his eyes.

“Well, it seems like you do. All you ever do is stare at him, you barely talk, you act like you’re going to jump out of your skin if he even looks at you. Are you afraid of him or something?” Dustin’s face softened, like he was trying not to be quite as harsh as usual. There was still a fierceness there, though, that Steve knew was just born of protectiveness over Eddie.

“No,” Steve replied without hesitation. “Even though you might think that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to have to our friend the newborn vampire, I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well that’s just it!” Dustin half-yelled, throwing his hands in the air. He just barely missed clipping Steve’s nose. “He’s our friend, but you’re back to treating him like some kind of freak. So if you’re not afraid of him, I’d like to know why you’re being a dick.”

Steve flinched. Dustin wasn’t outright saying it, but he got the implication all the same; you’re acting like King Steve again.

He so violently wanted to reject the accusation that he considered telling Dustin the truth.

It wasn’t like Dustin didn’t accept queer people. He knew about Robin now—thank god—and practically mooned over her for weeks with how cool he found it. Steve was pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t react any differently to finding out he was also a member of the fruit basket, as Robin had dubbed them.

Steve took in the sheer disappointment on Dustin’s face and sighed. He retreated into the living room and plopped on the couch, restlessly running his hands through his hair. Tews came up to him and rubbed her cheek against his pant leg. He gratefully scratched her ears.

Steve knew if he just admitted to the jealousy, Dustin would feel better, but wouldn’t entirely lose that kicked-puppy look. ‘I just want my dads to get along,’ he’d taken to whining whenever he felt like Steve and Eddie weren’t bonding to his specifications. Steve tried not to spontaneously combust each time any of the kids referred to him and Eddie as such.

Fuck it, Steve thought. He knew Dustin would latch on to his confession like Dart with a Three Musketeers, and Steve dreaded the conclusions he’d jump to. But he couldn’t stand to disappoint the kid. He took a deep breath in as Dustin sat beside him. For once, he’d kept his mouth shut instead of berating Steve into submission. He waited patiently, quiet.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Steve said again. “I don’t think he’s a freak. I’m not turning back into King Steve.” He gave Dustin a pained look, who had the grace to look a bit sheepish in response. “I like him, okay?”

“You don’t seem like you—“

“No, Dust,” Steve interrupted. He held Dustin’s gaze this time, hoping he’d connect the dots without too much explanation on Steve’s part. “I like him. I stare and barely talk and tense up because he makes me nervous. But in the butterflies in your stomach kind of way, not the oh god he’s going to kill us all in our sleep kind of way.”

Dustin stayed silent, but his eyes were wide as saucers. Steve wondered if he should give himself a pat on the back for rendering Dustin Henderson speechless for possibly the first time ever.

“You okay?” Steve asked instead, picking at his pant leg. Steve was nearly certain Dustin wouldn’t care that he was bisexual, sure. But he couldn’t help but worry that Dustin still wouldn’t approve—that Steve wouldn’t be good enough, not for Eddie, not in Dustin’s eyes.

Dustin had a knack for surprising Steve, though.

“This is amazing,” he said, eyes practically fucking sparkling with delight.

[PART TWO]

[kiiwiigii]

Night-Time Reading

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a rough day managing your POTS/CFS. All you want to do is relax and Alec is there to help.

Warnings:

Fluff! Nothing but tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 400+

Requested?: Yes!

So I'm going through a really rough time, I'm disabled (pots and CFS) and my cfs is acting up badly cause school started and I've been so busy I haven't had a break period, constantly walking and running and being busy. now I have a three day weekend so my body is letting myself feel the consequences of pushing myself too far, so I was wondering if I could suggest some comfort? Alec with a mate that either has cfs or just has some symptoms and just him keeping them as comfortable as possible while they're in pain Common symptoms (including the ones I'm going through) - joint pain (I can barely go up stairs and walk -extreme temp fluctuations (really hot to really cold quickly) -brain fog (brain is foggy. I'm too weak to open a bottle of coke so I left it open and while talking I tipped it over and forgot it was open) -migraines/headaches -sore throat -trembling -really tired but can't fall asleep and/or sleeps for a really long time Thank you for listening 🫶🏼 -🦊

A/N: Hey nonny! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to write this. Honestly, I was (and still am I suppose) intimidated to write this, simply because these illnesses are not something I am not even remotely familiar with. But I also want to thank you because it's a good writing exercise for me. I'm also sorry that you're having such a rough time. I can't even imagine. So here's a fic, just for you, darling. I hope you're feeling better.

Another A/N: So the wonderful and amazing @alecvolturi did an amazing edit of Alec reading the first bit of The Hobbit. Please give it a listen as you read. It's PERFECT.

Miserable.

I was fucking miserable.

It began just by sitting up. I could feel the migraine building, and I was already in the throws of a hot flash. It didn't help that the pain in my joints was flaring up again.

It was 3 a.m. and I was already this close to crying. I couldn't remember the last time that I had a proper nights sleep. I just wanted one day, one day where I didn't have to be in pain or worry that any movement I made would set off a whole other series of symptoms, all of which almost all of them were painful.

"Darling?" Alec was next to me, his cold hands running over my heated skin, trailing goosebumps behind in his wake.

His hands were a sweet, cool balm on my flushed skin. It gave me a little relief. I leaned into him, enjoying the cold. His lips pressed to my forehead.

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

"7 to 8." I mumbled.

One would think with how long that I've lived with this disease that I would have a high pain tolerance. That couldn't be further from the truth. I could already feel a few tears slipping from beneath my lashes. I just wanted something to make the pain go away.

I whined as Alec disappeared, only to reappear with my meds and a bottle of water a moment later.

"Here, drink." He handed me the pills and water, and I took them gratefully. He pulled the comforter from the floor where I had kicked it off, bundling it back up on the bed for us to lay down on. He then grabbed my phone, pulling up my favorite playlist, the one he made for me to help me calm down when I felt like shit. The music started flowing through the speaker near my bed at a low volume.

"What book, darling?" His eyes were already scanning my bookshelves.

"Uhm…" I blinked back at him slowly, trying to process what he said.

"How about The Hobbit?"

"Perfect." I rasped with a small smile.

He was next to me again in a flash, his back against the headboard as he pulled me gently to him, a pillow already ready in his lap.

"In the hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit." His voice lilted over me, and I felt myself begin to relax as his hands gently ran through my hair and along my neck.

The fine mist that signaled the use of his gift began to unfurl from his fingers and I felt myself begin to numb. The first time he had done this it had been disconcerting, but now I welcomed it with relish. A small reprieve from the pain. I smiled to myself, letting my eyes slip closed as I listened.

Then finally, sleep came for me.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @rosedpetal

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[successblueprints]

So, I woke up late again. My 50 alarms went off, but instead of jumping out of bed, I hit snooze too many times. Now, the day feels ruined before it even starts. I have so much to do, but the more I think about it, the less motivated I feel. My focus is gone, and instead of being productive, I’m scrolling through social media or just zoning out. It’s like waking up late sets the tone for the whole day. And it turns out, it actually does—there’s science behind it.

Why Does This Happen?

According to research, when you wake up late, your body’s internal clock, or circadian rhythm, gets out of sync. This is called delayed sleep-wake phase disorder, and it affects everything from your focus to your mood. Waking up later than planned disrupts your routine, messes with your discipline, and makes it harder to concentrate, leading to less productive days overall.

How Can You Fix It?

If you want to stop waking up late and regain control over your day, here are a few tips:

1. Set a Consistent Sleep Routine: Going to bed and waking up at the same time every day, even on weekends, helps stabilize your internal clock.

2. Limit Screen Time Before Bed: Blue light from your phone or computer can mess with melatonin production, which is the hormone that helps you fall asleep

3. Use Morning Light Exposure: Getting sunlight in the morning helps reset your internal clock and makes it easier to wake up on time.

4. Make Snoozing Harder: Place your phone or tablet across the room, preferably with the loudest, most cringe-worthy alarm you can find. I like closing my tablet case and putting it away, so when it goes off, I’m embarrassed enough to get up and turn it off.

But What If You Still Wake Up Late?

Even if you sleep in, the day isn’t completely ruined. Here’s how you can still turn things around:

1. Set a 5-Minute Timer: Start by committing to just 5 minutes of work on any task. You’ll see that once you get started, it’s not as bad as you thought. Afterward, take a short breather and give yourself some positive talk—then do another 5 minutes.

2. Prioritize Your Tasks: Focus on one or two important things for the day. This way, even if you’re behind, you’re still making progress on what matters most.

3. Forgive Yourself: Don’t dwell on the fact that you woke up late. Instead, accept it and shift your focus to what you can still do with the rest of the day.

4. Time Block: Organize your tasks into chunks of time. For example, dedicate 30 minutes to one task and then take a short break. This gives structure to the rest of your day, even if it started late.

What If You Still Can’t Get Yourself to Do It?

When you wake up late, it's like your inner child is throwing a tantrum, refusing to focus. But you’ve got to turn that tantrum off, remind yourself that the day isn’t over, and get to work. You don’t have time to argue with distractions—you’ve got things to achieve.

Breaking Tasks Down Even Smaller: Instead of thinking about the entire task, just focus on the very first step.

Starting with Something Easy: Sometimes tackling the easiest thing first can create momentum.

Doing Something Active: Go for a walk or stretch to reset your mind before trying again.

Note from me: It’s a bit of a bittersweet moment today. Maybe I barely studied and it freaked me out, but instead of getting stuck in that panic, it pushed me to dig deeper, do the research, and come up with solutions to help not just myself, but other people dealing with the same struggles. So, even if today didn’t go as planned, it inspired something bigger—a better plan for the future, and hopefully, a little help for anyone else going through the same thing. ^-^

[fandoms-writings]

“It’s okay to break.” - “I’m not going to break.” with my baby Bucky please 🥺💜

Mir 🥺 I had to hold myself back from making this longer 🤍

“Bucky?” You called from where you stood on his doorstep. You wanted to check on him, to make sure he was okay after that last mission.

You all knew the risks of taking him on that one, infiltrating not just any hydra base, but the one you learned he was held in. The mission was a success - you brought the building to rubble and ash for him - but after, he was quiet and reserved. More than usual.

When you’d gotten back to the compound, he silently walked off towards his room even though it was routine procedure to get checked by Cho’s nurses after any mission. You gave him some time, but when dinner came and went and he still hadn’t shown face, you decided to check on him.

So here you were, knocking on his door at almost midnight, trying to get a glimpse just to make sure he was alright with a plate of food from the dinner he’d missed. You listened for any sort of shuffling movement on the other side while the cold tile of the hall seeped into your bare toes.

You raised your hand to knock again when the handle jiggled before turning. The door pulled back to reveal a solemn looking Bucky on the other side and your heart sunk into your stomach.

“Hey,” you tried to give him a small smile, a tilt of your lips really, and he tried to give one back, but his lips barely moved.

“You missed dinner,” you muttered, slowly holding the plate up so he would notice it. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“I’m good,” he tried to claim, but right after his stomach growled so loud you could hear it from where you stood three feet away.

You tried to hold in your giggle as he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut before stepping aside.

“Alright fine, maybe I’m a little hungry,” he stated as he held his hand out to motion for you to come in.

You sat with him while he slowly ate, mostly just pushing the food around his plate, disinterested.

“Are you okay?” You asked once he’d put the rest of the food in his fridge. “I know today must’ve been a lot for you, emotionally.”

“I’m fine,” he claimed, sitting across from you on his small couch.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not right? It’s okay to break.”

“I’m not going to break,” he looked over at you, the first time since he’d let you in and you could see the raging mix of emotions swimming in his eyes. “I just needed some time to think.”

“Okay, but still. Just know it’s okay. You don’t have to be this strong man who doesn’t let stuff get to him. And if you ever need to talk, you can always talk to me. Whatever you tell me remains locked in here,” you pointed to your heart. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

He huffed somewhat of a short laugh at that and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. There was a sort of pride surging through you at getting him to crack just a little.

“I might take you up on that,” he looked down at his clasped hands for a moment before looking back at you. “Go get some shoes on.”

Your back straightened and you raised your eyebrows. “Why?”

He stood from the couch, holding a hand out to pull you up, “I was thinking we could go get milkshakes at the diner down the street. I’ll spill my secrets to you but only over sweets.”

Come join me for a drabble weekend!

Come join me for a drabble weekend!

[supercorpkid]

He’ll never love you (like I do)

Supergirl, Lena Luthor x Reader, Kara Danvers x Reader, Alex Danvers, James Olsen, Sam Arias.

Word Count: 3120.

Notes: prompt by @thebifisignal. It took me forever but here it is. The heartbreak of being left for James Olsen is worst than a normal one guys.

Superfriends group text:

Kara: Guys, game night tomorrow at my apartment. 

Alex: Great! I’ll invite Sam.

Lena: Is James coming as well?

Kara: He just said he’ll be there!

Lena: Great! See you guys tomorrow.

You furrow your brows at Lena’s text, surprised and utterly confused. Why is she asking about James and not about you, her own girlfriend? You look at your calendar on your work desk, knowing you can’t join the game night because you have a meeting.

Y/N: Sorry guys, can’t make it. I have to work. 

Kara: Aw no. Should we reschedule?

Y/N: No, don’t worry about it. I’ll go to the next one.

Kara: Alright, but if you want me to go pick you up at any time during the game night, let me know.

Alex: You’ll be missed, Y/N. But don’t worry, we’ll take care of Lena for you.

Lena: I can take care of myself.

Ok. Alright. You immediately shoot Lena a text to know if everything is alright. Lena was never one to need anyone to bring her flowers or climb her tower, but still she is usually more sweet than that. She answers with a dry, ‘yes, going into a meeting now’, and you swallow deep. Have you done something?

Sure, you’ve been working a lot, but that’s no excuse. Lena always works a lot herself and this was never a problem for the two of you.

You don’t make it to game night, and on the weekend Lena comes up with a lame excuse not to see you and you decide not to push, afraid this might drive her further away from you. But if you’re being honest, you’re starting to get worried. Even with Kara reassuring you that Lena seems fine. 

Must be a little bump in the relationship, you try to convince yourself. You should give her the space she needs.

You go to the next game night, a week later. Lena is already there and she is sitting extremely close to James. You feel a lump on your throat when she says they’ll be partners for the night, but you don’t fight her on it. 

So you pair up with Winn, and end up winning more games than you ever did when you were partners with Lena. Except that winning doesn’t matter at all to you and you’d rather lose all night and have her smile at you like she is smiling at James, than winning at this term.

When everyone just gets really tired of competing and playing games, and you all fall into a comfortable conversation about your lives, and what’s going on with National City (nothing good, really. There’s barely ever anything good happening here), you think Lena is going to come back closer to you and talk, instead she sighs loudly when she notices you’re staring and that’s all.

“Hey,” Sam whispers in your ear when everyone else is distracted by Kara enthusiastically telling a story. “What’s up with you and Lena?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.” You look at her, and she furrows her brows. “Has she mentioned being mad at me or something?”

“Not really.” Sam thinks about it for a second. “To be honest, she hasn’t mentioned you in a while.”

“Oh.”

“Are you two on a break?”

“If we are, then I think she forgot to mention it to me.” You feel stupid and completely out of place.

 When you first started dating Lena you knew it wasn’t a good idea to date someone from your group of friends. But the attraction and respect between the two of you was undeniable, and everyone in the group encouraged you two to get together. But now, now you see why you had your doubts in the first place.

When the night ends, you run after Lena before she leaves without saying a word directed at you.

“Lena!” You call her, but she doesn’t stop walking. “Lena, hey! Wait a second.”

She stops, giving you a loud sigh. “What, Y/N?”

“What’s wrong?” You try to hold her arm, but she moves away. “We haven’t seen each other in a week, then you act like you don’t even know me, and what was that whole thing with James?”

Lena blinks at you, like that’s a good answer, or like if maybe you don’t even deserve one. “Y/N, I’m so tired.”

“Of what?”

“This.” She points at the two of you. “This conversation and us and – Look, we should leave this for later.”

“Later when, Lena? You’ve been avoiding me for an entire week!” 

You hear someone clearing the throat and you look behind yourself to find James there. He forces a smile, and excuses himself so he can walk down the stairs.

That should be all. It should be James feeling embarrassed to see you and Lena having an argument on the staircase (or trying to have one), but you can tell there’s more. There’s more to it. You can feel the tension between them. They share a look as if they were more than friends, as if they were allies. It’s funny how they say nothing to each other or to you, but they don’t have to because the whole moment was so tension-filled that it already says everything. 

“Shit.” It’s your only reaction. You let yourself fall on your butt, sitting on one of the steps when James is out of sight. “Shit, Lena.”

She looks at you, totally aware of why you’re saying this. She knows. She can see how much you know and yet she does nothing to deny it. Nothing to ease your mind. Nothing at all.

“You're leaving me for him, aren’t you?” It’s not like you don’t know already, but yet you need confirmation. You need an admission for it to feel real.

Lena bites her lower lip. Then she looks at her hand, ignoring your gaze. “I’m – Yeah.” She breathes out. “Yes, I am.” 

Your heart stops on your chest. God, you did not see that coming. So you miss one game night and she replaces you like that? She switches partners not only to play games, but to live her life with? How did that happen? How did it happen so fast? Unless… It didn’t.

“What happened?” You look up to her. She doesn’t look like your Lena. She looks small and so distant, it’s like you can feel this barrier around her. “How did we ever come to this?”

“We grew apart.”

“In a week?” You can’t hold the surprise in your voice, because things were not this bad a week ago, at least not for you, and if it was so bad for her why didn’t she mention it sooner?

“I can’t explain, I just don’t feel the same way about you anymore. Or about him.” 

“You know he will never love you like I do, right?”

“Y/N.” That’s all she says. She says your name and it says it all. So sardonic and sharp, it leaves no margin for wondering. You agree with your head reading her perfectly. 

She doesn’t care about that, she doesn’t care about the fact that you love and respect her like no one ever will. She doesn’t care that you completely understand what it is like to be a woman in this business, because you are one yourself. She doesn’t care that you respect her space, and that you took your time to break down her barriers and open up to someone. Lena doesn’t care that you are the first person she truly trusted in years. 

And you feel stupid.

Stupider than you’ve ever felt. 

She is leaving you for James Olsen. Which only makes this whole thing a lot worse. 

You get up, passing her and running down the stairs so she doesn’t see the tears springing on your eyes.

To be honest, you’ve never expected this to happen. It’s not like you were planning to marry Lena, although you did think there was a great possibility of that to happen. But what you didn’t expect at all was her breaking your heart like this. Especially not after everything the two of you went through. 

And God, for everyone she could leave you for… James Olsen? That fucking idiot who doesn’t even believe in her. Who judged her because of her name on several occasions. Who broke her trust and lied to her before. 

She is leaving you for the most absurd, worst suitor possible. Which leaves you feeling like crap. There’s too much stuff running wild in your mind, on the ride back home. Too much stuff leaving you hollow and devastated.

Oh, how much you despise him.

Despise is a strong word, you know that. It’s not James’ fault. You try to tell yourself while your brain floods with images of you shooting daggers at him. He stole Lena from you. 

But that’s not what happened, was it? Lena cannot be stolen. Cannot be whisked away like she can’t make her own decisions. No. Despite all of your anger and your fury, and your clouded judgments; Despite the fact that this is just another reason for you to hate his entire being, you can’t be unfair.

It was her who made this decision. Hell, it was her who let her feelings for him change, and her feelings for you disappear. It was her who decided to break your heart and not even dignify you with the truth before you connected the dots. It was Lena who decided to throw all that you guys built out of the window and move on with her life as if you weren’t there to begin with.

And you try to do the same. You do. You leave the Superfriend group chat, throw yourself into work, into alcohol, into sadness. You cut ties with everyone related to Lena, with all of your friends too. You ask your assistant to send her assistant a box with all of the stuff you could find in your apartment that belongs to her, and if you leave behind the sweater she wore the first time she stayed over, well, then that’s just you doing a crappy job, isn’t it?

You stop leaving the house, scared you might run into her and James at some restaurant or Kara’s apartment. You don’t go to CatCo, even when you miss your best friends because you know you will see him there. And the world goes on, and on.

The silence from all the ends grows heavy, interminable, and it says too much even when it's not saying anything at all. Your friends are on their side. They agree you should be left. They agree James is better for her. They agree you're the odd one out and they are leaving you too.

And God, you wonder if all of this pain is going to go away someday. You wonder if the relationship was real in the first place, or whether it was just an act to love you from her end. And you wonder if this pain is for nothing.

You snap out of it when the doorbell rings. Clean your tears, and hide your bottles. Toss Lena’s sweater under a cushion and let your hair down. Then you make your way to the door.

She looks at you in pity. Kara’s blue eyes are filled with sadness and warmth, but also pity. And you hate that. 

“You’re not picking up my calls.” She states as to why she is here unannounced, before you even have a chance to ask her. “And I cannot let you do this.”

“Do what, not pick up my phone?” You bicker and she winces at your harshness. But this is Kara, and that’s not enough to push her away. So, instead, she steps inside your apartment.

“That, too. But I cannot let you do this.” She walks to the bottles of alcohol you just hid behind the couch. You roll your eyes at her x-ray vision, and the clear invasion of privacy. “Hide and suffer alone.”

“Well, I am alone.” Your tone is accusatory, and completely unnecessary. Kara didn’t leave you for James. She didn’t break your heart and left you wondering what was wrong with you and if you did something unacceptable. 

She comes back to where you are, because you still haven’t moved. Kara’s hands go to your arms, stroking the length of it, careful and shielding. “You are not alone. I’m right here.”                 

“Kara.” You argue with her name alone. Too tired and drunk for more. 

“It will get better.” Kara says, sadly and hopeful. And you want to laugh at her for still being able to say this after the whole thing that just happened. But you also want to yell, scream-cry and fall on the floor in a hyper-ventilating crying that would make anyone pity your situation. You do none. You breathe deep.

“But this doesn’t make it better right now.” 

She agrees with her head, and pulls you in for a hug. You don’t fight her on it, but you don’t hug her back. Yet, you feel completely safe and loved inside her embrace, which allows your angry tears to leave your eyes and soak her button-up shirt. She doesn’t let go, though. She would never.

You don’t know how, or when, you two moved to the couch. But you notice the change of positions when she kneels in front of you, hand on your knee.

“What happened?” Kara’s other hand goes to your face, trying to wipe out some tears. But your own hands are in the way, hiding your face and your shame for crying over a woman who just left you like you were nothing. It takes a few minutes for Kara to ask again. “Honey, what happened? Why did Lena tell me she hopes it hurts?”

“She did?” Your crying is put to stop, although the tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “She left me for him, stabbed me in the back, and she hopes it hurts?”

“What?” Kara’s brows quirks. “She – What?”

“Left me for James.” You think about the absurdity of it all. About the pain and the crisis you just fell into because of her. Because of him. And you laugh sharp and sour. “She left me for James fucking Olsen, Kara.”

“She – She couldn’t.” But at the same time that her voice is incredulous, her face is filled with anger and ire. Looking like she could spit fire instead of freeze air. Like she might be capable of breaking them like twigs. 

She blinks one lonely tear, as if she can feel what you’re feeling and you wipe your own face clean, aggressively. 

“Well, you can tell her that it doesn’t anymore.” You resolve, with new found strength and petulance. “I won’t allow her to leave me in pieces.”

You can’t believe you let this situation keep you up at night. You can’t believe you let that woman break your every heartbeat.

Kara holds your neck, pulls your face onto her shoulder, and you bury your nose on the crook of her neck, breathing her in. “I’m on your side. I’m with you. And you’ll never be alone.” She whispers a promise, kissing your temple softly and loving. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Kara.” You whisper too, pulling back, until your forehead is resting against hers.

“It will stop hurting, and it will get better. And I’ll be by your side until it does. And when it does… I’ll be right here.” She blinks at you like she is saying something else. “I will not break your heart or your trust.” She whispers. “I will not leave you.” 

And you blink too, unaware of what it could be. Confused as to why she is making sure you know all that. And she sees the confusion crossing your face, so she kisses your forehead, loving but respectfully. 

“Let’s start with getting you sober, and out of this crisis.” She smiles, making way to your cabinets, and your coffee pot. “Wanna take a shower while I get this ready?”

“Okay.” You whisper, baffled by the change of her demeanor, but not ready to get into that just yet.

Nia comes on the very next day. And not long after Alex texts and a game night is quickly arranged at your apartment. Lena and James are not invited, but everyone else is. They don’t bring out their names, though Sam lets it slide that Kara has cut all ties with them. 

You don’t tell Kara she didn’t have to. She knows she didn’t. And there’s nothing you can say that would change Kara Danvers’ mind anyways. 

You strive to get better. Some days you don’t even remember who Lena Luthor was, and some other times… Well, you try to cry alone under your blankets so Kara doesn’t hear you, but every time without fail, the depression session turns into a sleepover and you forget about Lena once again.

They break up after a few months. You don’t keep up with the news about her, but sometimes you hear things, no matter how much your friends try to shield you from it. You don’t want Lena to be sad, but you’re glad to know you were right. He could never love her like you did.

He almost dies and Kara tells you she is going to visit him, as if she is asking for permission to do so. You fear for what this could mean. Ties are being mended and maybe that means that she is not with you, like she promised. But she comes back. And she doesn’t break your trust. 

It stops hurting, and Kara is still here. She doesn’t break your heart, like she said she wouldn’t. Instead, she helps you heal it. She patches it up and aids it. And never once you are left alone. 

It takes you a few months but you finally get it. You get what she meant in her whisper.

Kara is not leaving, because real love doesn’t flee. It doesn’t expire or grows apart. It grows together in the same direction. It doesn’t leave you alone with a deep cut and a nightmarish heartbreak. No. It nurses your heart back to health, sure it will be able to love again. Real love waits for its turn and, when the time comes, holds onto the chance. 

And it never, ever, breaks your heart and your trust, nor leaves you. 

[moonlightndaydreams]

Room 143 Series: A Han Jisung 18+ fanfic - Part 1 - A Night to Remember (the beginning of the 143 Series)

Premise: If someone told me I would spend a night with Han Jisung, I would have laughed in your face.

Stray Kids are in Sydney Australia for their Maniac concerts, and so am I. Little did I know that I would be staying at the same hotel as them, or what was going to unfold that night.

Characters: Han/ OFC, Very little mentions of Stray Kids Ensemble.

Trigger Warnings/ Warnings: smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, sex toys, mild spanking, angst, romantic feelings, videotaping sex, cum eating, explicit language, making love, anal sex.

This is an adult 18+ story.

Approx 22k words

If someone had told me that I would have one night with Han Jisung, I would have laughed in your face.

[ Han heard my frustrated, pathetic cry. “Tell me what you need me to do.” He whispered huskily between kisses.

“Touch me, Han.” I breathed, and I reached down to touch his hand on my thigh. “Please.” My voice was barely audible.

He let out a shaky breath and looked down to where our hands were resting together on my leg. My hand slid back up his arm to grip his bicep, and he slowly inched his fingers up the inside of my leg, his hungry eyes following his hand as it disappeared under my skirt. ]

Sophie pov Earlier that day…

It was finally Tuesday, and I woke up in the hotel room with excitement. Tonight was the night. Stray Kids were having their Sydney concerts tonight and tomorrow night and I was going to both! YES!

I flicked the sheet off of me but continued to lay there trying to ground myself that I was actually going to see them in real life. They would be in the same place as me. At the same time. I squealed and flapped my arms and legs around in excitement. I was such a nerd.

Sydney had been hot this week. February was the hottest month of the year in Australia, but this week was outrageously hot, and STAYS were getting worried about the outfits they had chosen for the night. It was definitely not the weather for black pants and boots, or any of the punk/goth-like attire many had planned to wear. I’d been sweating for days! I hoped the boys would be able to cope tonight. They had already performed two concerts in Melbourne, and that city had had a heatwave too.

I had arrived at the hotel yesterday evening, to give myself a little bit of a mini break from my busy life, and, because I didn’t know anyone who liked Kpop, my mini break was also a solo one.

But that didn’t bother me at all. I knew from the STAY’s Facebook group that many were going to the concerts solo. I loved the idea that young people these days are happy to enjoy the things that light them up, even if no one else they know likes it. I am a slightly older STAY. Early thirties. So doing things independently doesn’t seem as big a deal as it would have 15 years ago. I was fine with flying solo.

I checked the time on my phone. 8am. I had too many hours to kill, and decided I’d go and have some breakfast and then go do a workout in the hotel’s gym. That should pass some time and get a smidge of my pent up excitement out of my restless body.

I went down to the restaurant where breakfast was your standard “Continental breakfast”, and I filled up on pastries and orange juice. The restaurant was practically empty. Any business folk would have already eaten (if they had even eaten at all) and be off to work, and since it wasn’t the weekend there weren’t any families around. Empty and quiet.

Once I had enough to eat and drink I headed to the gym room.

I wasn’t the fittest person in the world, and I was definitely not the most confident person in a gym setting, but I did like to make sure I exercised three times a week.

I opened the door to the gym and found it to be empty. Good, no one would see my awkwardness. The room was moderately sized, with several treadmills and elliptical machines along the back wall, a floor area for mat work, some strength training equipment and free weights along the full length mirrored side wall. Two weights benches were parked nearby.

After warming up on an exercise bike, I decided I’d use some free weights today. I wandered over to the weights and picked up the 4 kg dumbbell and sat down on a bench and began a set of bicep curls.

Even though I was alone I felt so uncoordinated and self-conscious. But I tried to push through. Something I had learned about myself a long time ago was that after the first ten minutes of anything, some of that weird anxiety lessens, and I settle into what I am doing. So my first goal was to get through ten minutes and surely I would feel okay after that.

That’s when I heard voices outside. Male voices. Getting closer to the gym.

Fuck. Don’t tell me some gym bros are going to come in here?

I could feel my skin flushing as I became flustered. I listened hard trying to find out what the voices were saying.

I could here them. One voice was bellowing loudly, another laughing. But I couldn’t understand them. They were speaking a foreign language.

The gym door burst open and three men dressed in black confidently sauntered in.

They noticed me right away and nodded a polite hello to me, bowing slightly when they did.

I automatically responded with a friendly smile and a “hello, how are you.” But inside I was frozen.

It was fucking 3Racha.

------------------------------------

The three men moved so confidently around the gym whilst I tried to mind my own business and not look at them. Every now and then I would steal a glance, and each time I could feel my heartbeat kick up a gear.

They looked like gods as they helped each other with weights, admiring each other’s physique as their muscles became pumped up. Changbin said something to Han and Chan burst out laughing uncontrollably. Han then pouted and complained. Was Changbin teasing him? I smiled to myself as I watched their interactions. If it wasn’t for the nerves and anxiety swirling around my body telling me that this is fucking real, I would have pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.

I felt like an outsider who had no idea what I was doing. I couldn’t stay any longer. But I also couldn’t leave. I’d be an idiot to walk away from this scenario. But I couldn’t keep sitting there with my 4kg dumbell. I needed to move onto some other exercise.

I scanned the room, seeking out a piece of equipment to use. Something that didn’t look too difficult. The pull down bar. Yes, I have used one of those before.

So over to the pull down bar I went. It was set to some outrageously heavy weight that only Chan and and Changbin would be able to manage, which meant that I’d have to figure out how to change the weight setting. I stood there looking for the pin that readjusts the weight. How the fuck do I do this?

“You look a little lost with that.” Oh my fucking god. Chan. My heart stopped and felt like I couldn’t find my words. Be polite. Be polite.��Somehow I managed to pull a smile and actually speak.

“Um… yeah I… I’m just trying to adjust the weight.” Okay, so I managed to speak, but it didn’t come out well.

Chan came in closer so he could adjust the machine. He was standing so close to me that I could feel a warmth radiating off of him, and the smell of his skin which was of a fresh deodorant and sweat mingled together. His bare arms so close that if I reached out I would touch them.

“What setting would you like?” he looked at me and smiled that gorgeous smile we all know and love.

“Um… maybe the second lightest.” I said shyly realising what a weakling I am.

If Chan had any judgment about how not-strong I was he didn’t show it. He just simply slot the pin in, and then held the handle bar steady as I sat down on the seat. He was about to pull it down for me when I felt someone come up behind me. It was Changbin. He took hold of the handle bar, ushering Chan to let go of it, and pulled it down so I could hold onto it. Chan let him, taking step back, but stayed lingering by my side.

Changbin’s thick arms were on either side of mine as he held the bar steady for me to take hold of, his hands merely inches away from mine. I couldn’t breathe.

“Thank you.” I managed as Changbin let go and stepped back. By now Han was hovering around as well and I felt like I could die of embarrassment on the spot. How was I supposed to do this with them all watching me?

I took a deep breath and pulled the bar down, and then released it back up. Although I didn’t know how to change the weight on the equipment, I did know how to do the exercise properly with good form. Thank God. Satisfied that I was doing it correctly, Chan and Han went back to what they were doing at the bench press, but Changbin took this as an opportunity to be ‘personal trainer’ and stood close by watching, nodding. Approving.

“I think you can do heavier.” He stated, more to himself than to me. He took hold of the handle bar again, this time his fingers brushed mine, sending a shiver through my body, and eased the bar back up to it’s starting position. Then he considered what weight to set the machine. I watched him with one of his arms crossed across his chest, across his skin tight black t shirt, his other hand at his mouth in thought. Han was back now standing at Changbin’s side.

“What do you think? This one?” he asked Han.

I looked from Changbin to Han. Han looked at me. I felt my skin redden. He raised his eyebrows up and down at me as if to say “look at Changbin… He can’t help himself can he?”. I let out a small chuckle and Han laughed too.

“Okay try this one.” Changbin had reset the weight and helped me get back into position.

It was far heavier than I expected, but manageable.

“Changbin! A hand.” Chan called out over at the bench press. Satisfied he’d selected the correct weight for me, Changbin went back over to his leader, leaving Han to supervise me.

I felt like I was going to die. Han fucking Jisung. In the flesh. His slim body was covered with a white muscle tee, showing off his toned arms and he had slim black sweatpants on. We were in the middle of a heatwave and he had sweatpants on!

I had experienced performance anxiety in the past but this would have to top it. I attempted to keep my breath steady and my mind focused on the exercise. I tried to block out this stunning young man’s energy. This stunning young man who was… gazing?…at me.

After I completed ten pull downs, Han took the bar from me and let it slide back up. His chest grazing my back as he did so. My breath hitched. Was that on purpose? Then he came around and crouched down next to me, and from seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a bottled water and offered it to me.

“My names Han.” He said “and over there, that’s Chan and Changbin.” He pointed to his band members then turned his attention back to me, waiting for me to introduce myself.

I smirked. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I know.” I whispered quietly.

Han raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth in surprise.

“You know who we are?” he leaned forward “are you a Stay?” added excitedly.

I nodded. “Umm.. Yes.. But only a new one. I am not sure I know enough to even call myself a Stay. I am going to the concert tonight though.”

“You’re a Stay. Trust me.” Han grinned.

A dreaded thought hit me then. What if they think I stalked them here!

“I wouldn’t have imagined JYP would have put you guys up at this hotel, though.” I hoped that didn’t sound extra stalker-like.

“Actually we weren’t meant to originally. It’s all been changed up last minute. But it’s not too bad. I got to meet a Stay and that is always a bonus.” He playfully punched me in the arm.

“My name’s Sophie.” I offered.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie.” Han grinned. His smile was infectious, and I found myself grinning like an idiot at him.

The next little while was spent with mostly me talking about where I live, what I do and how I came there alone and that I'm going to their concert. 

“So how are you getting to the venue?” Chan piped up. By then all three members were sitting around chatting to me, and I felt more comfortable and at ease.

“I don’t know. I guess an Uber?” I replied.

“Don’t be silly. You can come with us.” Han said and turned to Chan. “Can’t she Hyung?” Han looked hopeful.

“It’s okay. I am a grown woman.” I didn’t want to cause any problems or tension between the members or staff.

Chan held up his hand. “Of course she can come with us, but you’ll have to get her a pass and she’ll have to be there for soundcheck, and we won’t get back here until quite late.”

This was too much. I didn’t need any special treatment.

“Look. I’m really grateful you want to look after me, or be kind or… whatever… but it’s really okay.” I insisted.

“What’s your room number? I will collect you myself.” Han said sounding chivalrous. It was rather endearing to see him eager to take care of me.

Maybe I should run with this and see where it goes?

I swallowed hard. “Okay,” I said. “Room 143.”

----------------------------------

Back in my room I flopped down onto the bed. What the hell just happened? I kicked my legs in flurry, and brought my hands up over my face to muffle a squeal. After I let reality sink in, I sat straight up. I needed to get ready! Han had said we had to leave by 2pm and that left… I looked down at my phone… two hours.

I jumped in the shower, but my mind was still in the gym with Han, Chan and Changbin. How does something this exciting happen to me? Me!! It just kept repeating itself over and over in my mind like one of those TikTok looped edits.

I don’t know how I managed it, but before I knew it I had blow dried my hair, applied my makeup and was slipping on my frayed denim skirt, and a pink and white tee covered in little love hearts. The theme I was trying for was “Maxident”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the knock on my hotel door.

Was it already time?

I hurried to the door, almost tripping over my own feet. “Coming. Just a sec.” I called out. I took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door.

There stood Han… Han. Fucking. Jisung. Standing at my hotel room door. He was now donning baggy cargo pants and a grey, oversized hoodie, which he had pulled up over his bucket cap. He was gorgeous, and I felt my nerves pick up.

“Hi there.” I smiled and welcomed him into the room.

“Room 143?” he replied pointing at my room number “143 I love you!” he sang and finger hearted me, making me laugh. “I’ve got you something.” He gestured to the black cross-body bag he was wearing.

I ushered Han into my room. My room. Argghh how was this even real?

The hotel room was pretty standard of hotel rooms. An ensuite bathroom off to the right when you entered the room, a double bed in the middle, and a 2 seater couch and coffee table on the other side of the bed. A large window looked out onto a mediocre view.

“So…this is my humble abode for the next day or two.” I said gesturing around the room as though I was giving him a tour. Han scanned the room like it was somehow unique, until I saw his gaze land on an item of clothing laying on the floor… a black lace garment. Fuck, my bra!

In the most ungraceful way, I kicked the bra away and under the bed. “Sorry about that.” I stuttered. How fucking embarrassing. Han simply grinned at me as though he wanted to tease me, but he didn’t say a word.

“So… I brought you a present.” He said as he pulled off his cross-body bag. My eyes widened as he unzipped it and he pulled out a band tshirt. “I thought seeing as though you are part of the team tonight, you would like to wear this?” he handed me the shirt.

“Naww… thanks…Han.” I unfolded the black shirt and held it up against my body. The little green Maniac logo on one breast, and green print on the back.

I looked up from the shirt and met his eyes to find him looking at me expectantly. “Go try it on.” He encouraged me. “I mean I love what you’re wearing right now, so you don’t have to change it if you don’t want to,” He scratched his head nervously, “but I’d love to see you in it.” He added coyly, lowering his eyes to the floor. A rush of heat rose through my body.

“Of course. Yes…Just give me a minute.” I choked. “Um, I’ll be right back. Grab a drink if you’d like.” I waved towards the mini bar and kettle.

I stood at the bathroom sink in my new band t-shirt, trying to decide whether to tuck it into my skirt or not. What would Han prefer? Stop it, Sophie. He’s just being kind. It’s not like he’s attracted to you. I turned from side to side to get an idea of how I looked, and settled on tucking it in to highlight my hourglass figure. Then I touched up my make up. Han Jisung is in my room! I slapped my cheek to bring myself back to my senses, my stinging skin telling me this was very real. Okay, breathe Sophie. You can do this.

I stepped back into the room to find Han making two cups of tea. It was an interesting sight. Him looking all street-wise whilst brewing a comforting warm tea. Just like he can deliver hard hitting rap lines and then turn around act like a Baby-girl.

“Tada!” I exclaimed and Han turned around. He looked me up and down and nodded in approval. “Looks good, baby!” He grinned nervousnessly, fidgeting with the cords of his hoodie.

“Aren’t you hot in that?” I asked pointing to his hoodie? “It’s so hot today! Even for those that live here!”

“It is hot today.” He whispered and bit his lip, like he wasn’t talking about just the weather.

I ignored the sudden tension that had filled the room. It was suddenly suffocating, and I started twirling my hair around my finger to try to look busy.

“Well… feel free to take it off if you’re too hot, ok.” What the fuck are you saying? But Han was already removing the hoodie and his bucket cap anyway, and draped them on my bed before returning his attention to the tea. His long, slender neck, now on full display, had a thin sheen of perspiration. It set off something inside of me. I am not generally a fan of sweat, but seeing Han with just a light amount of perspiration, well, it was doing something to me. I wanted to…taste it.

“Tea’s ready!” he announced, turning around with a hot teacup in each hand. “Should we sit on the couch…?” he nodded towards the two seater couch at the other side of the room.

“Huh? Mmm.. Yes… sure…” I was brought back to reality, and it seemed I was finding it difficult to find my words, so I just awkwardly led the way and sat down.

Han placed the tea on the timber coffee table and settled into the couch and grinned at me. My eyes darted around the room nervously. What was one supposed to say to a Kpop idol who was sitting in your hotel room and just made you a fucking cup of tea?

“So…” I sucked in my breath and picked at the the hem of my skirt with my fingers.

“This is awkward for you isn’t it?” he concluded, tilting his head to the side as he watched my nervous hands busy with the frayed hem.

He glanced up capturing my gaze and I nodded, sucking in my lip. “Yeah… Sorry?” I offered.

“You don’t need to be nervous around me, baby.” He chimed endearingly. It was supposed to make me feel at ease, but all it did was make me nearly choke on air.

“If it helps, I’m nervous too.” He continued, leaning in closer like it was a secret. He looked so perfect. Big eager eyes, and an expression of wonderment, like he thought he was the lucky one in this situation.

“Really?” I whispered. “You’re nervous too?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He seemed so confident and outgoing, although I had only ever seen him perform.

He nodded. “I am the most nervous person I know!”

I laughed softly. Han looked at me suspiciously. “What is it? Why are you laughing?” he teased.

“Han,” my laugh becoming louder. “I’m the most nervous person I know!”

The rapper looked at me in disbelief, mouth hung open.

“Mm mm,” I nodded. “You don’t want to know how nervous I was in the gym this morning.” I confessed, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“You looked pretty cool and calm to me.” He argued cheekily.

“Well you don’t look nervous right now!” I taunted.

Han grabbed my hand from the hem of my skirt and held it against his chest. “Feel how fast my heart is.” He whispered seriously. I could feel his hard pecs under his shirt and the pulsing of his heart against my hand, as he stared into my fucking soul. My eyes were locked on his. I couldn’t escape his gaze. Han may have thought his heart was beating fast, but it was nothing like the racing of my heart. The pounding sounding like a fucking drum line was standing in the room.

“Can you feel it?” he asked hopefully. Oh god what was happening?

My mouth was dry. I needed a drink. I pulled my hand back quickly, and without thinking, I picked up my teacup and took a big sip in a bid to busy myself. Big mistake. “Fuck!” I pulled my mouth away and almost spilled tea down my new shirt. “I burnt my tongue!” I couldn’t believe how stupid I must’ve looked.

Han chuckled “Well it is fresh, baby.” He teased and he took the cup off me, returning it to the table. Baby?

I hung my head. Why oh why did I do that? I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head, hoping to shake out the embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Han’s teasing turned serious as he saw my reaction, springing from his seat to dart to the mini bar to grab a bottle of water.

“Here,” he offered me the water. “Drink this, it will help.”

I took a big gulp of water, hoping that it will dissipate my embarrassment as well as my burnt tongue.

“Hey!” Han edged closer to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” I could feel his eyes on me even though my gaze was firmly fixed to the floor.

I shook my head. “I’m just so clumsy.” I whispered and looked up shyly to meet his gaze. His eyes were kind and warm, and he was smirking a little.

“Baby,” Baby? Really, does he have to keep saying that? I knew he said it to everyone, but it didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat. “You are talking to the clumsiest Idol known to man!” he sat up proudly. “You want someone to forget lyrics? You’re looking at him. You want someone who falls on his butt? Me!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He was far from clumsy, but his attempt to be relatable and make me feel better, well, it was kind of working.

“You’re good? You promise?” he asked again, double checking, rubbing my shoulder. I nodded my reassurances along with a smile.

“Good.” He whispered, nodding satisfied that I was okay. My eyes drifted to where his hand was still lingering on my shoulder, although now he’d stopped rubbing it. Han followed my gaze to where his hand rested, and for a moment it felt like time stood still. My heart stopped, my lungs weren’t working, and butterflies were starting to swirl around in my stomach. I could’ve sworn I saw longing in his eyes, and his breath catch in his throat. He abruptly came to his senses, quickly retracting his hand and nervously pushing his hair back.

“So,” he picked up his tea and blew on it before carefully taking a sip. “I take it you don’t live super close if you’re staying in a hotel?” he asked. “Wow! That is hot!” he gasped, referring to the tea, and quickly placed it back on the table.

“I guess not, I live about two hours from here. I could’ve driven home after the concert, but you know what?” I looked at Han “I wanted to just have a bit of a break. You know, from the real world. Just a couple of days.”

Han nodded approvingly. “I’d love to have a few days just for myself.” He gazed softly across the the room as though he was imagining what it’d be like to have time off to do whatever the hell he wanted.

“I take it you don’t get a lot of free time?” I asked curiously.

Han shook his head. “Nah," he paused momentarily and smiled. “but it’s all good. I certainly don’t have anything to complain about, that’s for sure.” It was as though he was trying to convince himself, more than me.

His demeanor seemed so bubbly and energetic, but as we talked there on the couch I could feel there was a lot more going on for him. It felt like underneath that happy, dorky young man there was something else, like something was missing. A sense of emptiness, perhaps? Sadness? Loneliness? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but what I was quickly noticing was that Han, although he wanted to come across as carefree and fun, deep down he yearned for something. Whether that was more of something, less of something, or something different to what he currently had, I didn’t know.

“Are you okay, Han?” I asked seemingly breaking his thoughts.

The young man paused, considering my question. “Really. I don’t have anything to complain about.” He repeated, but his words sounded empty. “But lately I’ve been lonely. I mean, I have the guys, the staff,” he sighed. “But… I don’t know. I’m tired and I suppose, maybe, I need some newness in my life.” He nodded to himself thinking through what he had just said out loud. It seemed like he was processing his thoughts and speaking them out loud for the first time. “I feel like I need some respite. From everything.” He half smiled.

A pang of empathy rushed over me and without thinking I reached for his hand that was resting on his thigh and squeezed it tightly. For a long moment, Han studied my hand covering his, and sucked in his lip. Then he looked up locking eyes with me questioningly.

I thought there was no longer any oxygen left in the room. I didn’t even know if I’d even taken a breath for the past three minutes, and it seemed Han wasn’t breathing either. We were both frozen still. The only sign that we weren’t actually frozen in time was his expression as he searched my face, like he was silently asking me a million questions and trying to find the answers in my eyes.

“The tea is probably good to drink now.” He said, swallowing, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah… the tea.” I acknowledged, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away either.

Han cupped my face with his other hand, causing me to finally remember how to exhale. With slightly parted lips and eyes that conveyed a glimmer of want, he glanced down at my mouth and subconsciously licked his lips. His eyes flickered back up to mine for a brief moment before returning them to my mouth as he slowly closed the space between our faces. He was merely inches away and I could feel his hot breath close to my skin. I wanted nothing more than to feel his breath directly against my mouth. I wanted his breath in my mouth. I wanted to taste him, and have his wet tongue slip inside me. I wanted his teeth to hungrily bite into my lip and then softly kiss away the pain.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

I bit my lip and nodded.

Han’s lips had barely even touched mine, but I could already feel the electricity shoot through my veins, making my body tingle. The butterflies in my stomach started to go berserk and I truly thought they’d make me float away if it weren’t for Han’s hand on my cheek.

He pulled away momentarily searching my eyes for permission to continue. I let go of his hand and slipped it around the back of his neck his skin hot and sweaty underneath my fingers. I needed to hold on for dear life if he was going to keep kissing me.

Our lips connected again, starting off slowly and carefully as though one of us would break if either of us moved too suddenly. His lips were soft and he tasted like mint. Did he brush his teeth before coming here? His hand slid from my cheek to my waist and in response I melted in closer to his body. Han took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, parting my mouth slightly so he could sneak his tongue inside to find mine. He moaned and peeled away again.

“Is this okay?” he panted, checking in with me.

“Yes, don’t stop” I begged, wrapping both my arms around the back of his neck and finding his mouth again with a sense urgency. My heart kicked up a notch when I felt his hand land firmly on my thigh, my skin burning from the touch. I dove my tongue into his mouth and his fingers squeezed the flesh of my leg as he let out a low groan.

My body was rapidly responding to the man that was kissing me. We were only kissing and I’d only just met him, but my core ached for more, my panties close to soaking. Han’s hand wasn’t far away from where I was craving to be touched. All he’d have to do was slide it up the inside of my leg and he’d be there.

I gripped his upper arm (the one attached to the hand on my leg), pulling him closer, encouraging him to keep going, inviting him to explore my body. His hand moved to the inside of my thigh, sending shivers up my leg all the way to where I wanted him most. He was setting me on fire and I whimpered with need.

Han heard my frustrated, pathetic cry. “Tell me what you need me to do.” He whispered huskily between kisses.

“Touch me, Han.” I breathed, and I reached down to touch his hand on my thigh. “Please.” My voice was barely audible.

He let out a shaky breath and looked down to where our hands were resting together on my thigh. My hand slid back up his arm to grip his bicep, and he slowly inched his fingers up the inside of my leg, his hungry eyes following his hand as it disappeared under my skirt.

“Han!” I gasped when his fingers reached my panties.

Han smirked as he pressed his finger against me. “Is this what you wanted?” His eyes were hooded and hazy with desire. I whimpered and nodded, parting my legs a little to give him more access. Han ran his finger along my underwear, grazing over my clitoris. “You’re soaking!” he sounded surprised. His fingers moved more hurriedly, finding the edge of my panties and pulling them to the side. “Kiss me.” He commanded and I smashed my mouth back onto his. He slid a finger through my wetness, rubbing it over my bare clit.

“Fuck!” I huffed. Then he sunk two fingers deep inside of me. My eyes rolled back from the relief of finally being filled making me throw my head back in pleasure. His hot, wet mouth moved to my neck, sucking and nibbling my skin as he started to move his fingers in and out of my pussy.

“You’re so wet, baby.” He cooed. “You really needed this, huh?”

“Mhh-hhm” was all I could manage. I had lost access to my vocabulary. All I could do was lose myself to Han and how incredible he felt.

“Sophie?” he kissed up the side of my neck and brought his mouth to my ear. “There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, anything.” I panted. I didn’t care what he planned to do, I just wanted more of him.

Han removed his fingers from me and brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth and sucked my wetness off them. “You taste so good. I want to taste more of you.” He leaned his forehead on mine. “Will you let me?”

---------------------------------

Han pov:

“Sophie?” Han kissed up the side of her neck and brought his mouth to her ear. “There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, anything.” She panted. Her voice was husky and so fucking sexy.

He removed his fingers from her pussy and brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth to taste her wetness. “You taste so good. I want to taste more of you.” He leaned his forehead on hers. “Will you let me?”

Han could’ve just kept making out with Sophie, but he felt an uncontrollable urge to serve the woman in front of him. It had been so long since he felt the kind of nerves that came with desire, and it felt good to lose himself to whatever was unfolding. Even though he didn’t know her, the woman in front of him illuminated warmth and comfort, and understanding, and he wanted to envelope himself in her aura. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to please her. To satisfy her.

“Yes…please…” she purred, her neediness going straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Lean back for me, baby.” He breathed.

Sophie sank against the back of the couch, not taking her eyes off of him as he slid to the floor in front of her, pushing the coffee table away to make room.

Han’s hands trembled slightly as he undid the button on her skirt. He could’ve just slid it up around her waist, but he wanted the option to explore her body more easily. He slid both her skirt and soaked panties slowly down her legs and carefully put them to the side, then leaned in and kissed her mouth softly while his fingers gently dug into her hips. His lips tingled and his cock twitched as she deepened the kiss and slid her tongue into his mouth. Han felt his insides melt as his heart rate rose (and his dick getting even harder). He could kiss her forever.

They only had forty five minutes until they needed to be in the vans to head to the venue. That wasn’t nearly enough time. But the next forty five minutes were theirs, just theirs, and no one else’s. Part of him wanted to devour Sophie rough and urgently, but what he wanted more was to slowly savour every second, making the most of the little time they had.

A small whimper escaped Han as Sophie tried to pull his hips between her legs and kiss him more frantically. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was enough to spur him on. Han matched her intensity with the kiss before pulling himself away.

Sophie reached for the hem of her shirt.

“No, baby. Leave it on for me.” He panted. The thought of eating her out while she was wearing their band t shirt turned Han on more than he could imagine.

Sophie nestled back into the couch and opened her legs offering herself to him. Han met her eyes. They were looking at him longingly and beckoning him to come closer. Then he dropped his gaze to her slightly parted mouth. Her lips were silently begging him to ruin her. Then he allowed his gaze to drop all the way down to her centre, between her legs.

Fuck! Han subconsciously licked his lips as he took in her beauty. She was a goddess. 

“Touch me Han.” Sophie panted.

It was all he needed to hear. He hooked his arms under her thighs and pressed his mouth against her pussy. Sophie gasped. Han groaned. 

Han had only gone down on a woman a handful of times. It was always a rushed encounter, and he didn’t think he’d ever made a woman orgasm through oral sex either.

He realised that he might not be equipped to satisfy Sophie and that frightened him somewhat. He didn’t want to disappoint her. But he knew that he was great at improvising, he was after all one of the best freestyle rappers. He had a clever, talented mouth. He could learn as he goes.

Han carefully tuned into how Sophie responded to his ministrations. 

He learned that she lets out shallow pants and whimpers if he used to tip of his tongue on her clitoris.

He learned she made long, low moans when he used the flat of his tongue to lick stripes up from her entrance all the way up to her sensitive nub.

He learned that she stilled in anticipation when used his hands to spread her lips with his fingers.

And he learned that she rocked her hips when he slid his tongue inside of her while rubbing her clit in firm, fast circles. 

Han never knew that anything could taste this good. He felt like a starving man who had been offered the most scarce delicacy in the world and he was trying not to consume it too fast.

He’d never had anyone respond to his touch like Sophie was either. She was hot and wet, and when he stole glances of her face her cheeks were flushed and her eyes unfocused.

Han wanted to worship this woman. 

“Sophie, baby. I want to put my fingers inside you again.”  He said “tell me how you’d like me to do it.” Han didn’t want to undo all his good work with clumsy finger fucking.

Sophie looked dazed but managed to find her words.

“I like two.” She said through a ragged breath. “Palm facing up.” She added. Han licked two of his fingers and brought them to her entrance. “And.. could you keep using your mouth too?” 

He slid two fingers into her vagina as he sucked and licked her clit firmly. Then he began to gently thrust his fingers in and out of her in rhythm with his tongue. 

She was so wet that his fingers slid easily, and the wet sounds of him fucking her with his fingers made his cock ache. Han couldn’t help but imagine his cock inside her. He could tell it was swollen and in need of a release. He knew there’d be pre-cum leaking into his boxers. He tried to concentrate on bringing Sophie to the edge, but his mind kept thinking about her wet, tight walls squeezing his cock.

“Han?” Fuck, his name sounded so fucking hot coming out of her mouth. “Han…please… I’m close”.

Han registered Sophie’s words, and it was enough to push the thoughts of being buried inside her away.

“Yes baby…tell me what you need me to do.” Han encouraged her to guide him.

“Curl your fingers… push up…into…against the front of my body…keep sucking my clit”. She managed between groans.

Han did exactly what she asked. He curled his fingers and began to thrust them the way she'd described. He could feel the flesh there had a different texture, and he focused his attention there. He used his mouth with a renewed vigour.

Sophie was coming undone. Her hips started to buck against his hand, and she was getting louder as she was getting closer. Her legs began to shake and her back arch. 

“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She said and threw her head back. Her whole body tensed and stilled, but Han could feel her walls squeeze and then pulse around his fingers. He supported her through her orgasm and eventually her body melted back into the couch and he removed his fingers.

It was the most incredible thing Han had ever witnessed. Again, he was overcome with the urge to lick her wetness off his fingers. So he did. He wanted to remember this taste forever.

Sophie sat up and cupped Han’s face in her hands. She looked freshly fucked and so gorgeous. Her cheeks were pink. Her lips were full. Her eyes warm and happy.

Han couldn’t help himself and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. 

“That was so good, Han.” She grinned like a drunk fool. It made Han’s heart burst.

“You were so perfect, Sophie”. Han whispered.

——--------------

After they had both calmed down and their heart rates had returned to normal, Han realised that they only had 15 minutes to get down to the cars that were taking them to the venue.

Panic set in as they scrambled to get dressed, tidy their hair, compose themselves and get where they needed to be.

But they made it with 2 minutes to spare.

------------------------------------------

Sophie pov

Before I knew it I was seated in the arena with the perfect view of the extended stage. The atmosphere was buzzing as Stay were getting excited. Before the show I was able to get a behind the scenes glimpse into what goes into a production like this. It was fascinating and I felt grateful for the opportunity to see how it all came together. Sitting next to me were two young women, probably around nineteen, and they started chatting to me.

“This is SO exciting!!! How long have you been a Stay?” the black haired girl asked me. I was embarrassed to admit it had only been a few months.

“Oh so you’re a Baby Stay?” the lighter haired girl said excitedly, and leaned forward. “Do you have a bias?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows. What the hell was I supposed to say? Did I have a bias? “Kind of?” I squeaked. “What about you?” I quickly deflected the question.

“Jisung.” The black haired girl cooed, closing her eyes, imagining her bias.

“Oh!” I choked and cleared my throat. “Yeah, I like him too.” I said smiling. I wonder if she’s imagined him between her legs? How many people in this room have visualised him doing all sorts of obscene things to them? Oh god Sophie, stop. Just stop. Focus.

I watched Han as he performed their stages. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Everything he did on stage was magic. Whether he was rapping, singing like an angel, or being a goof-ball during the intermissions, he was captivating. Stay loved his sense of humour and listened intently as he told us about going to the pool with Lee Know and just walking around in the water because he can’t swim.

Han didn’t really search for me in the audience, instead focusing all his attention on performing for their fans. Muddy Water was next, which meant that Han and just three other members were going to wander around the second stage in a less structured and choreographed way. I knew it was going to be a treat. Han fucking Jisung looked so god damned hot strutting around that stage. All of them did. When it was his turn to rap, I could really hear how skilled, smooth and talented his mouth was, and what it’d be like to have him rap in my ear in his bedroom voice. I couldn’t help but think about that mouth between my legs only hours before, giving me the best orgasm of my life.

Oh God it was the best orgasm of my life. I felt an ache between my legs and a moistness developing. Surely I’m not the only one here horny in this place? I crossed my legs and ignored the pressure that was building.

Shaking my head to jolt myself back to reality, I looked up at the stage to see Han had stopped in front of me and was making eye contact with some of the nearby fans. His eyes found mine and he smirked and brought two fingers, the two that were inside me earlier, up to his mouth and licked them, then winked at me. The horror on my face made him laugh as he continued to wander the stage.

It was quite a flurry after the show. I was ushered backstage where I met Han in a corridor.

“What did you think? Did you have fun? What was your favourite part?” he bombarded me enthusiastically with questions.

“It was fucking amazing! All of it!” I squealed excitedly. Han beamed at me, “and your favourite part?” he looked at me devilishly.

“Ummm…” I thought for a moment. “The part where Chan lifts his shirt in Charmer.” I teased. Han’s face turned to feigned disapproval, like I was a traitor.

“Okay, okay…” I laughed. “I really loved it when you hit the high notes in Hellevator.”

Han looked proud and happy. “Was that the only part you liked?”

What was he pushing for? Oh. I realised what he was hinting at. “Yes, yes… In Muddy Water you reminded a fan of something you are very good at doing.” I stated coolly, but I felt like I was going red.

Han grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Did I?” he said pretending he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Hannie!” a voice interrupted. We turned to see Chan ushering us into a room.

“Come, join us Sophie.” Han gestured for me to lead the way.

I entered a rather large, unremarkable space, much like a conference room. Several black couches were positioned around the room, and there were so many people chatting excitedly. I assumed they were staff of some sort. The room smelled of sweat and deodorant and although I knew the air conditioner would be cranking, it wasn’t enough to cut through how hot the night was. I was sweating too, the thick band tshirt clinging to my skin. My makeup had probably melted off long ago. I felt so un-sexy.

“Come meet some of the guys.” Han said, holding my elbow and guiding me over to the right side of the room. “This is Lee Know.”

Sitting on the black leather couch in front of me was the most intimidating man I had ever seen. He wordlessly glared at Han as if to say “How fucking dare you bring a woman home.” Han made an innocent face, and blinked his big gorgeous doe-eyes that said “I haven’t done anything wrong… Can we keep her?”

I stood there awkwardly. Is MInsung really a thing? They both looked at me and burst out laughing. “Come on Hyung, we are not on stage anymore!” Han whined. Lee Know’s face softened and he bowed his head, greeting me politely. “Hello, nice to meet you. Did you have a nice night?” Lee Know smiled. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as I first thought. Just a man of few words.

Han continued to introduce me to the other members and some of their staff. Everyone was really polite, and I wondered how often they see this situation. Does Han find a girl in every city?

“Would you like a drink? Are you thirsty?” Han pointed to a table with bottles of water. He opened a bottle before handing it to me, and grabbed one for himself. I was so parched that I had already nearly finished the bottle by the time we sat down on one of the couches.

Han grinned at me sheepishly. “You know, Sophie… I have a secret.” He leaned in close “You know when I licked my fingers in Muddy Water?” I felt my skin burn up at the memory. “I could still taste you.”

I felt my stomach drop and arousal hit me like a flash flood. My vagina clenched with need. Why did he have to say that? I looked away only to lock eyes on the beauty that was Hyunjin. He was sitting on a nearby couch watching us curiously. The look in his eyes made me feel like he was reading my mind and that he knew exactly what Han had just said and what he was referring to, even though he wasn’t even in earshot. He parted his mouth and his tongue slid slightly along his lip like he was concentrating on something really hard.

I swallowed and tore my eyes away, preferring to stare at the floor instead.

“You don’t think I’m weird do you?” Han whispered. I lifted my head to look at him. He looked worried.

Embarrassed, I smiled and shook my head. “No… it was kind of… hot.” I admitted.

“Excuse me…sorry.” A middle aged woman politely interrupted. I was relieved. She had perfect timing. “We are taking you back to the hotel now.” My heart dropped. Already? I snapped my head back to Han. He looked crestfallen. Did it feel too soon for him too?

“I’ll walk her out to the car.” He insisted. The woman bowed and nodded.

-----------------------------

Han walked with me along corridor that led to where the vehicles were waiting. I couldn’t believe this was over already. We walked in silence. Each step we took was a step closer to goodbye. I fucking hated it. We had almost reached the exit door, when Han suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me through a side door and into a some sort of dimly lit storage room.

“I didn’t really think that’d be unlocked.” He said surprised, referring to the door.

“Han what are you doing? The car… it’s waiting for me.” I protested.

“I need to kiss you… feel you… one more time.” He purred.

Han gently pushed me against the wall, pressing his body against me and moaning low. His hands slowly roamed my body. His lips found mine. Oh god I wanted him. I wanted him to take me then and there. My heart pounded, my body silently screamed for him. I pulled his hips hard against me so I could feel how much he wanted me too.

I peeled my mouth away from his, but his lips landed on my neck, making me swoon. “I have to go…” I whimpered. Every part of me wanted him to ignore my words and keep me there longer.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” He panted and pressed his head against mine. “I could just take you right here… right now… if you wanted me to. Do you want me to, baby?”

We looked into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity as we silently considered how possible, how easy it would really be for him to hike my skirt up and slip himself inside of me.

“I want you to…” I whispered. Han exhaled and his hand flew to the button on his jeans. Adrenaline coursed through me as my body anticipated what was about to happen.

“Hey are you in here!?” a deep voice said as the door flew open, startling us.

“God. S-ssorry…” It was Felix. “Guys… Um…they’re asking if you still need a lift, Sophie.” Felix eyes were everywhere but on us.

Han looked at me sadly. “Yeah. I’ll walk her out. Just give me second.” He said solemnly, adjusting his crotch to try and hide his erection.

This time, Han really did walk me to the car. I felt heavy. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cling onto him. I didn't want this to end.

Han apoligised to the driver saying he was to blame, not me, for making them wait.

“Bye Sophie.” He said as I stepped into the van and took my seat.

As I was driven away, Han didn’t move to go back inside. He just stood there watching the van drive away. I watched him too, for as I could, before the van turned the corner and I could no longer see him.

It was over.

--------------------------------------

I got back to the hotel and had a long, hot shower (even though the night was stinking hot). Today had been like a dream. From running into 3Racha this morning, to having Han Jisung going down on me, to the incredible VIP treament in at the concert, to almost having sex with him in a storage room. If only Felix hadn’t barged in, I would have been able to feel him inside of me.

I sighed deeply, as the water washed any trace of Han off my skin. My mind flashed to Han watching me drive away earlier that night. Today would be hard to get over. I felt a pang in my chest.

Don't you dare get sad.

I slid into bed and pulled out a drawstring bag from the side table and shimmied off my panties. Today might be hard to get over, but I was still horny. I pulled out my small bullet vibrator. I let my mind drift off with thoughts of Han Jisung standing nervously in my hotel room. Han Jisung holding me close, kissing my body as he made his way down to the place he drove me wild. Han Jisung's fingers inside of me.  Han Jisung on stage. Han Jisung fucking me in a storage room. Han Jisung knocking on my door.

Han Jisung knocking on my door?

My eyes flicked open as I registered the tiny knock on the hotel room door.

What the fuck? The intrusion scared me, my heart almost flung out of my chest, pumping adrenaline through my veins. There is no way this could possibly be -

I tossed the toy on the bed, padded to the door and cracked it open.

It was Han fucking Jisung.

-----------------------------------------

The feelings that came over me when I saw Han standing there freshly washed and in a new set of sweatpants and hoodie, was hard to describe. There was this dull ache in my chest that resembled angst and heartbreak, but also a tension that flooded south to my core.

It was like a longing. Longing to be close to him. Fuck my body absolutely craved him. But there was also a knowing. Knowing deep down this probably wasn’t a good idea. There was a chance I’d let my heart get in the way and I would then have to get over him. He would be long gone in a couple of days.

Who was I kidding? My heart was already in it and I would have to get over it, regardless of whether I let him in or turn him away.

You should turn him away. For your own good, Sophie.

I don’t want to turn him away.

I didn’t have the courage to look at his face. I just kept my gaze somewhere chest level, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel his eyes burning into my skin, and I knew if I dared look, I’d see want in his eyes.

I didn’t need to look.

I couldn’t bare to look.

The tension was so thick I thought I was going to choke.

Neither of us had said a word yet. We both knew what he was asking by simply being at my door. We both knew what it would mean if I let him in.

You shouldn’t let him in, Sophie. It’ll only lead to heartache.

I want to let him in.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and slowly, bravely, met his eyes.

I shouldn’t have looked.

Longing. Hope. Desire. Hunger. Sadness. How could eyes convey so many emotions all at once? And how could eyes look so fucking beautiful?

My body felt like it was melting, like he had some fucking lasers coming out him or something, and I was about to become a puddle on the floor.

Despite my brain screaming that this was a bad idea, I stepped back and opened the door, making space for him to pass through.

Still a word had not been spoken.

My heart kicked up a beat as I pushed the door closed, and I rested my head momentarily on the door frame.

You’ve let him in.

I’ll take my chances.

It was lucky I took a second to ground myself, because when I turned around Han was on me. His mouth smashed against mine in a messy, feral kiss, and his hands gripped the sides of my waist to push me back against the door.

He’d already lost his hoodie and was now in a singlet tee. I ran my hands up his arms, over his toned muscles, then I slid them down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. His skin felt electric under my fingertips sending shocks through my body.

He slowed down to caress me gently. His hand brushed my cheek and he planted hot, breathy kisses on my neck. His hard cock pressed against me, making me ache for him. It was almost unbearable.

“I had to come, Sophie.” He panted. “I couldn’t just end things like that.” Referring to earlier at the concert venue. “I hope it’s okay, baby… I want you so fucking badly.”

“I want you too.” I whispered, tugging gently at his elastic waistband. A choked whimper escaped him when my hand gripped his cock and released it from his pants.

He was rock hard, and as I explored it with my hand, I could feel that it was already leaking. He was about to find out that I was leaking too.

Han’s hand dropped from my waist to reach under the hem of my short nightshirt and slid its way up between my thighs to find my bare pussy. I let out a sharp exhale at the touch. My body absolutely craved him. Han hissed through his teeth from the unexpected access, and leaned close to my ear.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he whispered low “I like it.” And he parted my lips with his finger and slid it roughly back and forth over my clitoris, as he buried his face in my neck.

“Fuck! You’re so wet baby!” Han sounded incredulous as he explored my lips, my clitoris, and teased the entrance to my vagina.

I really do love it when he calls me baby.

I started to writhe against him. I wanted to make him hungrier. I wanted him to snap. I wanted him to ruin me.

“It’s for you, Han.” I confessed, as I tried to guide his cock between my thighs.

He reached his hands under my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pinned me hard against the hotel door.

I held on for dear life, my arms around his neck, as the tip of his cock brushed against my entrance. It was so incredibly close, but not quite where we needed it to be. It was pure agony for both of us.

Frustrated, and desperate, Han swiveled his hips in such a way that it only took a moment to line himself up.

I ached for him to be inside me, and we both gasped when the tip of his cock slipped inside.

Han stopped still. He glanced down at where we were barely connected, and then looked back up at me questioningly. It was like he was running through some internal dialogue, some sort of inner conflict, and he was frozen.

“This is okay, right?” he said searching my face. “Cos I want you so bad, Sophie.”

“Fuck, yes…please.”

He pressed his cheek against mine, inhaled deeply, and sank me down onto his length in one motion, until he was buried all the way inside of me. We both sighed in relief and the stretch felt excruciatingly delicious.

Then he started to fuck me. He needed the friction. I needed the sharp jolts of his powerful thrusts. His hips slamming into me at a relentless pace, like some wild beast.

Han fucking Jisung was inside my hotel room.

Han Fucking Jisung was inside of me!

“I was going to go slow…” he panted as he hammered into me “I promised myself I was…but I couldn’t stop myself…I can’t hold back…” he said breathlessly. “There’s just too much…feeling… so much… I…don’t know the words…” he trailed off as he vigorously worked his hips.

He didn’t need his words though. I knew what he meant. It was like the the desire…the need… was so strong and so…visceral…that we just might lose our minds if we didn’t get it out of our bodies. And the only way to rid ourselves from that feeling was to meet it with this hot, burning release.

“I want to make love to you after this…let me stay the night…can I… can I stay…?… you feel so hot…and tight…” he choked.

His words were my undoing.

He wants to stay?

This isn’t going to be the only time?

We’re going to have sex again!

He wants to ‘make love to me’?

Knowing that I didn’t need to hold onto this moment forever, knowing that we had all night, my body let go completely and I slipped over the edge. I felt like I had been kicked in the guts and thrown off a cliff. I held on tighter to Han to try and slow the fall.

“Come inside me, Han…I need you to co-.." I didn’t finish my sentence. Han’s hips had become erratic and a stifled whimper came from him as he reached his own climax.

“Baby…” He panted as he slowed down. “How can something feel that good?” he chuckled.

Then, with him still inside me, Han took us over to the bed, gently laying us down on the mattress. He hovered over me and kissed me as he pulled out and collapsed by my side, pulling me against him. I could feel his semen leaking out of me, sticking to my inner thigh. But I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned it was part of Han, and I wanted him to completely own me.

“Sophie, baby?” Han said finally.

“Mmm hmm.?”

Han propped himself up on an elbow and searched my face, tenderly brushing some hair out of my eyes. He looked contemplative, but he still had that hope in his expression.

“Can I really spend the night with you?”

I broke out I a smile. “Of course. You know, Han, I’d say yes to anything to you asked.” It was true too. This man could ask absolutely anything and I’d say yes.

The thought scared me.

-------------------------------------

I reached up and traced my thumb along Han’s bottom lip. Han fucking Jisung had the most perfectly plush, perfectly shaped, perfectly pink lips. They were wildly talented too, in so many ways. He had certainly shown me that today. But there was something I hadn’t seen yet. Not up close anyway. I had this secret “thing” for something he did when he rapped, where he pulled the corner of his top lip up in what can only be described as a -

“Snarl for me Han.” I demanded. “You know… like when you’re rapping.”

Han’s eyes widened in surprise, then his features softened momentarily before he narrowed his eyebrows in an expression of "you naughty girl.”

��Okay… but I have to do it rapping.” He said and sat himself up to kneel on the bed about to prepare himself for a private performance.

“Wait!” I sat up suddenly too, and kneeled in front of him reaching for his shirt. Han followed his gaze to where my hand grabbed onto the fabric.

“I want you completely naked first.” I stared at him dead seriously. Han’s mouth fell open.

“Oh you are a bad girl.” He was trying to sound dark and sexy, but he couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. He sounded thrilled that he was about to be naked and began lifting his shirt.

But I tugged his hands away and shook my head. “I want to undress you.” I whispered. Han was frozen to the spot except to open his mouth to speak, and when he realised no words would come out, he simply nodded vigorously.

I took my time lifting his shirt, slowly revealing his slim waist and bellybutton, his hard abdominal muscles, then his chest and nipples. A shaky exhale escaped me as I pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the side. Han didn’t move, his eyes just followed my hands as I let them roam his bare upper body, dragging my thumb across a pink nipple and leaning in to graze my tongue over the other.

My other hand explored the peaks and valleys of his abs as it made it’s way down to waistband of his sweatpants.

“Stand at the edge of the bed.” I directed Han to stand up so I could remove his sweatpants.

I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes as I bit my lip. A naked Han Jisung standing before me and about to give me a private show. Han Jisung following my instructions. Something was triggered in me. Whatever it was made me want to demand naughty things of him. It made me to want to deny him just to make him beg. It made me want to be mean just so I could make it better again.

But the feeling was fleeting, and left just as quickly as it arrived when Han spoke.

“So…what is the lovely lady’s request?”

“Hmmm…” what to ask for? “What about… Venom?” I sat back on the bed as Han proceeded to perform for me, showing off that ‘snarl’ I loved as much as possible.

As he was rapping I knelt on the mattress and slowly lifted my nightshirt, revealing my breasts. Han stumbled on his lines as he took in the sight of them for the first time. Then I tossed the shirt to the side.

“Continue.” I instructed.

He moved on from Venom to then demonstrate dance moves like the ‘Poppin’ part of Maniac, which now that I had seen in this context, could never be unseen again.

It all finished in a fit of laughter from both of us as the performances got less and less serious and more about making me cringe.

His finale was taking a run up and landing face down on the bed.

“Owww!!!” he cried and lifted his head. “What was that?”

He picked up the item that had assaulted him when he landed on the mattress and looked at it quizzically, and held it up for inspection.

My bullet vibrator.

Han pushed the button on the side and the unmistakable buzzing sound began pulsing from the device.

“Who are you?” He said looking up at me wide eyed and mouth open.

I smirked. “Well I thought I’d need it after going to a Stray Kids concert. Apparently those guys dance pretty raunchy.” I winked at him.

Han chuckled and turned the vibrator off, which took some time for him to figure out. “So…any other surprises?” he asked cheekily raising his eyebrows up and down.

I sucked in my lips and looked up at the ceiling. “Well…” I hesitated as I considered showing him my other items I kept in my drawstring bag.

“I have these.” I took the bag from the bedside table, loosened the strings and tipped the contents out on the bed in front of Han.

His eyes bulged as he registered what was in front of him. One slimline black vibrator dildo, a second bullet vibrator, and two butt plugs - one black, the other with a white fluffy tail attached, and a little bottle of lube.

“I like options.” I offered as an explanation of why I needed more of one kind of toy.

“You certainly do!” he gasped as he picked up the black dildo and admired its curves and texture.

As Han curiously experimented with the settings, I let my eyes drift down his body. His shoulders and back were muscular and sinewy. I needed to run my nails down that back later. His hips were slim and perfect for wrapping my legs around. I’d already done that, but the thought of doing that again made my heart beat faster.

Then my eyes landed on his round, pert ass.

Oh my God. I have to touch it.

My legs felt like they had a life of their own as they crawled me closer to sit by his side, and my hands moved of their own accord as I firmly grabbed one, meaty cheek and squeezed it in my hand.

“Hey! That’s my butt!” Han squealed and looked back at me in surprise.

I stared back at him, not attempting to move my hand at all.

“Don’t stop.” He added and went back to exploring my sex toys.

I alternated between squeezing and massaging one cheek, then moved onto the other. His ass looked scrumptious. Perfectly perky, but squishy enough to sink my fingers around. I knew why people refer to an ass as ‘buns’, because Han’s looked like two perfectly baked bread buns.

I growled and smacked him on the left cheek, finishing with a hungry squeeze.

Han gasped. I repeated the action. It just felt so satisfying. Then I did the same on the other cheek. I followed up with a gentle rub of the area I just slapped.

Han started responding with little gasps and his hips began to grind into the bed. When I paused he whimpered and wiggled his ass at me.

He likes this.

I felt encouraged to continue and that feeling I had earlier of wanting to be mean, making him beg and me being in control came back to the forefront. I wanted to make his cheeks burn red and and make him wait for permission to touch himself, or touch me, or to come. I wanted him to whimper and beg for relief.

“Do you like this baby?” I cooed and my hand landed down on his skin in a loud slap.

Han shuddered. “Yes..” He panted. “It feels… so good… please… don’t stop.”

I massaged the red skin, soothing it momentarily before spanking it again. Han’s breaths were becoming louder and more laboured as I increased the intensity of each slap. His hips desperately pressed into the bed for friction.

I want to wreck him.

I glanced back up towards Han’s head, he had the fluffy tail plug in his hand, his fingers stroking the long white furry tail and staring at it longingly.

I smirked. I knew what I wanted to do. “You like that toy do you, baby?” I leaned down and kissed his butt cheek. It took all my effort not to sink my teeth into the flesh.

What is happening to me?

Where are these urges coming from?

“Does Han want me to share my toy with him?” I held my breath. Was this too much? Had I gone too far? Would he leave?

Han nodded. “Hannie wants...” He whispered.

Hannie? He was calling himself in the third person.

I carefully took the plug from him, and the lube, applying a generous amount the to the steel plug. This toy was new. I admired the long white fluffy tail attached to a vibrating silver bullet. It would look so good with Han’s ass.

Straddling his thighs I realised I had no idea what I was doing. I had never touched a man’s asshole before, let along insert something. But there was no backing out. Han had given up on the rest of my toys. They’d been pushed aside. The side of his face was buried into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of his head. His hips still wiggling in frustration.

“Patience, Hannie.” I said.

I placed one hand on his cheek, pushing it to the side so I could find my target. Then I turned the vibrator on and placed the tip on his rim. Han sucked his breath in at the contact, then relaxed into the bed as I gently massaged him with the tip.

I wasn’t sure when I should apply more pressure. What if I actually hurt him? But the sounds he was making, the beautiful, needy moans, prompted me to push the tip in slightly.

Han let out a long, deep, relieving moan at the stretch. The plug wasn’t all that thick or long, it was dainty, and I wondered if maybe I should just push it in all the way.

“Hannie? Do you think you can take the rest?” I asked gently.

“Fuck… yes… just put it in.” He sounded frustrated.

I pushed the plug in all the way and turned the vibration up to full.

“Yes… fuck… yes… baby…” Han was writhing underneath me, but he couldn’t do much while I was still straddling his thighs.

I simultaneously massaged both Han’s cheeks roughly, pulling them apart on each circle, eliciting a sharp breath from him each time I did it.

I was so fucking turned on I could feel the wetness between my legs.

“Hannie,” I said crawling up to meet his face with mine. “Can you put this one in me?” I held out the little black butt plug and offered it to him.

I positioned myself on all fours, while Han knelt behind me.

“Here, baby, put some lube on it first.” I instructed. Han didn’t look like he was alert at all.

I heard a squeeze of lube, presumably on the plug, and then cold lube being smeared on my entrance. Then I felt the vibration against me. I was so ready, so aroused, so desperate that I began to back myself onto the vibrating plug. The stretch burned, but eased quickly, and it was only a moment later that it was snugly inside of me. The vibrations pulsed through entire pelvis and causing my whole body to shake.

But I needed more.

And so did Han.

I felt the head of his cock push against me, trying to squeeze inside. But I was tight. As the tip stretched me open, both of us gasped.

“You’re so tight with that in there.” He growled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I whined in frustration. “Just fuck me already, Han.” And I pushed back hard against him as he pushed equally as hard into me.

I felt so filled up, so stretched, and so stimulated that I knew this wouldn’t last long.

“I...I c..can feel the vibrations through your walls.” Han exclaimed. I could only imagine what Han must be feeling, with the vibrator inside of him sending shivers through his body, to having his cock being squeezed in my tight, clenching and vibrating vagina.

I lost all sense of myself as Han fucked me for the second time. I forgot my name, where I was, everything. Everything except how good it felt to have Han fucking Jisung inside me, ruining me, owning me, and taking me to ecstasy.

----------------------------

Han pov.

Han laid on his back panting. He had just had his mind blown to oblivion. His brain tried desperately to catch up with what had just transpired. He’d never shown a woman that side of himself before. The side that liked to be submissive. He’d never had a women play with his ass like that either.

Sophie leaned over him and kissed his neck. “I’ll be right back.” She cooed bringing him back to reality.

She quickly checked her phone then placed it back on the bedside table and disappeared into the bathroom.

Han’s eyes gravitated to the phone. The screen hadn’t locked yet. His brain started to kick into overdrive. Could he? Should he? Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed her phone and opened the contacts.

Then he selected “Create a New Contact.” He stared at the screen.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing Jisung? He said to himself. But his fingers kept going as he entered the name Han Jisung. Then he typed in his number.

Really, what the fuck are you doing, you idiot?

Then, he phoned the number letting the call connect. Lastly, Han went to the recent call log and deleted the phone call he just made.

This is a bad idea.

He heard Sophie exiting the bathroom, and he quickly put the phone back where she’d left it.

She slipped back into bed laying herself against his side and placed a leg across his stomach. Han turned his head to kiss her, his hand resting on her thigh. She was so soft, warm, safe.

He’d wanted to go slow. That’s what he’d decided when he made his way to her door earlier. He wanted to take his time with her. He wanted to remember every moment - every sigh, every whimper, every quiver of her muscles. He wanted to look into her eyes while he slowly fucked her.

But this was good too. More than good. This was the best sex he’d ever had. He grinned. He still wanted to... make love... to her though. Why do those words keep popping in his head? Oh why had he said that out loud to her before? MAKE LOVE? He covered his eyes with his free hand. How fucking cringe.

He stole a glance at Sophie, worried she might be reading his mind, but she had dozed off, her breath had settled into a calm and steady rhythm.

Han let himself settle into the bed and drift off to sleep too. In the back of his mind he remembered what she’d said earlier that day. “This is my humble abode for the next day or two.” Did that mean she would be still here tomorrow night?

Could he see her again?

-----------------------------------

Han squinted as he opened his eyes to the glaring morning sun streaming through the crack in the blinds.

Where the fuck am I? He rubbed his eyes as the memory of last night’s events came back to him.

He registered the limbs that were wrapped around his body, and sighed in relief. It was real. It wasn’t a dream, he thought as he turned his gaze to the woman in his arms. Fast asleep. She must have tired herself out, he chuckled to himself and stroked her hair, moving it out of her face.

Sophie was older than he was, he was sure. A Noona. He wondered how old she was. Thirty maybe? It didn’t matter though, did it? This could never go anywhere anyway. All Han knew for sure was that he lost his capacity for commonsense and self-control when he was near her.

His muscles tensed as the goddess wrapped around him stirred and eventually opened her bleary eyes.

“Hey, baby.” He whispered. Sophie blinked several times to wake herself up properly, then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. Han’s skin burned at the touch and a warmth spread from his chest to the rest of his body. Imagine waking up to someone like this everyday? He pushed that thought away immediately. He had another concert to think about.

Shit, the concert. Fuck, what time was it?

Panicked, Han glanced around the room trying to locate his pants where he kept his phone. “What time is it?” he cried.

“10 o’clock.” Sophie answered looking at her phone.

“Fuck!” He sprang out of bed, scrambling for his clothes. Frantically he searched his pockets and eventually pulled out his phone.

10 missed calls. Fuck, he was in trouble. He unlocked his phone to see who exactly had been calling him. Five calls from Chan, 4 from Changbin and one from…and one from… He remembered what he had done last night.

Guilt replaced the panic that Han was feeling, and as he dressed he peeked over at Sophie who was sitting propped up on the bed watching him with a worried expression. It was a bad idea to have her number. It was a bad idea to leave the door of possibility open.

“Sophie?” He said “I have to go. I’m late.” He choked and gestured at his phone.

Sophie nodded in understanding and smiled, but Han didn’t miss the solemn expression that appeared for just a fraction of a second.

He felt like he’d been kicked in the guts and his eyes began to prickle. His mind, his fight or flight response, the adrenalin coursing through him, they were all screaming at him to hurry the fuck up and get where he supposed to be.

But his heart, his fucking heart, rooted him to the spot, paralysing him.

Sophie bit her lip and looked at him with hazy eyes, and Han felt like he was being magnetised towards her. It was like something in her had reached out and grabbed onto his heart and was literally pulling him to her.

He didn’t know how, but the next thing he knew he was sitting by her on the bed, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her like his life depended on it. They explored each other’s mouths, their tongues dancing together, trying to memorise the feeling and the taste. He felt himself getting hard again.

Sophie reached down towards Han’s rapidly growing erection with one hand, her other hand cupped his cheek “Can I take care of you first?” She gazed at him longingly. 

“Baby… I’m not sure there’s time…I’m going to need to be quick…” Sophie put a finger to his mouth to sush him.

“I want to take care of you… will you let me?” Han’s heart began to pound. How could he say no? He wanted to stay for as long as possible. He wanted to stay forever. He wanted to forget about commitments, schedules and work. He was tired. He was lonely. He needed connection outside of his band mates.

Han nodded. It was all he could do. Despite knowing that he should have already left, Han stood next to the bed while Sophie made quick work of undoing his pants.

“You shouldn’t have bothered getting dressed.” She teased, freeing his cock.

Han knew he didn’t have the biggest or thickest dick in the world, but he knew it was pretty. Well as pretty as cocks could be, and he loved the way Sophie’s eyes widened as she admired it hungrily.

All thought left him when she took him in her hand and licked the leaking pre-cum from his tip. 

“Fuck, Baby!” He hissed in surprise.

Sophie looked up at him. “Use me.” She said. Han blinked. “Fuck my face…Do it how it feels good for you…I want to take care of you… I know you need to be quick…Please...I want to take it. I trust you.” The last part was whispered.

Sophie opened her mouth for Han’s cock, locking her eyes on his has he sank himself into her mouth. 

“Fuck!” He sucked in a sharp breath.

Sophie giggled around his dick sending shivers through Han’s entire body. Her mouth felt so good that he couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to, and he began thrusting himself in and out of her mouth fast.

Her eyes watered as he assaulted the back of her throat. For a split second he worried that he was too much, that he was going too hard, but when she reached around to cup his ass and pull him in deeper into her mouth, he let go completely, ramming himself into her with abandon before releasing himself down her throat. 

Han pulled out and knelt down on the floor in front of Sophie bringing her in for a kiss. He needed to kiss her. He needed to be close to her. He didn’t even care that she hadn’t completely finished swallowing his cum and that he could taste it in her mouth.

“Baby…” Han reluctantly broke the kiss. “Did I hear you right, you will still be here tonight?” he said hopefully.

Sophie brushed the hair out of his eyes. “Yes, Han. I’ll still be here tonight.”

Han’s breath hitched at the possibility of seeing her again, but then he remembered. He had commitments after the show, and he didn’t know how long that would take.

“Sophie, baby… I really wanna see you again tonight.” He kissed her cheek, then nibbled her ear, drawing a slight shiver from her. “Could I? Would it be okay?” His hand explored her stomach and drifted up to cup her breast. Sophie leaned into him humming in approval. “Yes, Han… You still have to make love to me remember.” She grinned sheepishly.

“Oh you heard me say that huh?” He said, turning beet red.

“Mmm. I did… it made me come… actually.” It was Sophie’s turn to burn red.

Han raised an eyebrow “Really?” he was surprised. He was convinced she’d think it was cheesy. Then for another long moment he kissed her again.

“Hey…” His tone turned serious.

“I have to do some things…after the show… and I’m not sure how late I will get here. But I’ll come. I promise. I just don’t know how what time it will be… I hope…”

“Han!” Sophie took his face in her hands. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you.” She beamed that beautiful warm smile, and Han felt himself relax.

She stood up and climbed off the bed and Han drank in her naked form as she sauntered over to the coffee table.

“Here.” She held out a keycard for the hotel room. “They gave me two of these at check in…” She trailed off, handing him the card.

Han looked at the rectangle piece of plastic in his hand, and then looked at Sophie with a hopeful gaze.

“Just let yourself in when you get here.”

---------------------------------

Sophie pov.

I didn’t tell Han that I was going to the concert that night. I didn’t want to give him the chance to offer me special treatment, or take more of his attention when he needed to focus on his actual job. I imagined the disapproving glares I would have got from his fellow band members when they realised that I was the reason Han was late to his schedule.

No today I would stay out of his way.

After Han left, I went back to bed for a bit longer to try and get a little more sleep, but the events of last night kept running over and over through my head. That was so wild. It seemed that Han fucking Jisung knew how to unlock parts of me that I never knew were locked up!

I reached down between my thighs and touched myself. I was slightly tender, and the contact from my fingers sent a shiver through me. He felt so perfect inside me. It sounded so cliche but it was as if he was made for me.

What am I saying? Of course he isn’t made for me! He lives in another country. He is far too young for me. He’s a fucking idol for Christ's sake!

I let out a big, loud sigh. Get up, Sophie. Pull yourself together.

I gathered the used toys and went into to the bathroom to clean them up. A smirk plastered on my face as I washed the silver-fluffy-tail plug, carefully holding the fluffy tail out the water. Han Jisung you are going to be a hard man to forget.

——

The day passed so painfully slow. Every time I thought I was distracted, my mind would either wander to the activities of last night, or to the possibilities of what was to come later that night.

Those thoughts were okay. It was the intrusive thoughts that bothered me somewhat. In the cafe I imagined Han sitting in the seat across from me trying to feed me a piece of cake, wide eyed and silly. When I was walking outside the strip of shops I imagined Han by my side, arm linked with mine as we browsed shops and bought each other gifts. When I was in the Uber I imagined I was going to see my boyfriend perform on stage.

I felt a rush of adrenalin when I arrived at the venue, the energy amongst Stays was buzzing. I took my seat, this time further away than the evening before, and took a deep breath.

He’s not your boyfriend. He’s an idol. He is unattainable.

He is just a bit of fun. An unforgettable experience. One I will never forget.

He just wants to get his rocks off. It’s not about you.

He says he wants to make love to me.

He’ll probably just fuck you again. If he turns up at all.

I gave him my key card. He’s going to come to me tonight.

He might not.

Shut up and just enjoy the show.

The concert was amazing as expected. This time I got to hear Changbin’s solo “Mirror Mirror” and Chan looked like was almost going to cry when he said is ending speech.

Han was his usual energiser bunny self. Where did this man get his energy? Considering what he got up to last night.

I was almost going to cry too. It was all going to be over too soon, and I wasn’t talking about the concert.

--------------------------------

Anticipation buzzed through me as I laid in bed that night. Han fucking Jisung was going to be here soon.

But the hours passed and he still hadn’t arrived. I tossed and turned restlessly. Part of me was waiting to hear the door. Part of me felt agitated that I couldn’t fall asleep. I cared too much about whether or not he turned up and it made me angry with myself.

Where was he?

See he isn’t coming.

Yes he will, you’ll see.

Just go to sleep.

I eventually resigned myself to the possibility that he might not come at all, and eventually I fell asleep.

——-----------------

Han pov.

Han was distracted and fidgety after the show. He had to do some official work with the other members, but all he could think about was when he could go to Sophie. Was she waiting for him? Did she think he wasn’t coming?

Once they had wrapped things up Hyunjin took Han to the side. “Hannie, bro, what’s going on with you?” he whispered. “It’s that Noona isn’t it?”

Han dropped his head but didn’t say anything.

“It is!” Hyunjin blew out a loud breath. “Did you sleep with her last night?”

Han lifted his head to meet his friend’s eyes and nodded. “I…She… she makes me feel…” he drifted off, he wasn’t sure how he could narrow down everything he felt into one word.

“Comforted?” Hyunjin offered, wrapping an arm around Han’s shoulder.

Yes. Comforted. That was the perfect way to describe it. But he felt a myriad of other feelings too. Safe. Warm. Euphoric. Complete. Satisfied. Insatiable. But comforted? That resonated with Han the mostl

“She does, Hyunjin. She makes me feel really good. She helps me forget about the pressure… the stress…” he smiled just at the thought of her. But his smile disintegrated when he thought about the reality of the situation. Sophie could never be his, as much as he wanted to pretend that she could be.

“Shh… It’s okay.” He soothed. “Are you going to go to her tonight too?”

“I know I shouldn’t, Hyung” Han sobbed.

Han leaned his head against Hyunjin’s chest and Hyunjin wrapped his arms around him entirely, holding him in a strong embrace.

Hyunjin stroked Han’s hair affectionately. “Hannie. I think you’d regret it more if you didn’t go to her tonight.”

----------------------------

Han’s nerves skyrocketed as approached room 143. This was going to be his last chance with Sophie. He wanted to make it count. He wanted to make it a night to remember. He wanted to memorise every single thing that was about to happen so he could draw upon it again and again.

He stood outside Sophie’s room and took a deep breath. This is it Han. He nervously pulled the key card out of his pocket and studied it for a moment. Was this the right thing to do? He silently told his brain to shut the fuck up, and with a shaky hand opened Sophie’s door and slipped inside.

Han moved quietly, shedding his clothing and slid into bed beside Sophie. She was asleep and she was…naked. He scooched up to spoon her, pressing his entire body against hers, and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

He didn’t want to wake her, but he also didn’t want to lose a moment either. He was leaving the country tomorrow. He slowly peppered light kisses along her neck and shoulder, and his hand delicately stroked her arm as it made it’s way down to caress her hip. He pressed his hardening length against her ass, the pressure against his cock made him release a shaky breath and bite his bottom lip. He explored her body with a slow and gentle touch while his mouth continued to nip at her neck. He felt her breath change from a slow, steady rhythm to shallow gasps, and as she woke she started to push her ass back against him.

Han pulled away, allowing Sophie to roll onto her back, and he moved to hover over her, holding himself up with his arms either side of her.

“You’re here?” she said wearily.  “Yes baby. I came as soon as I could… I’m sorry it’s so late.” 

Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her for a kiss. It was like he’d been gone for a month. Her mouth devoured him, her hungry tongue searching for his.

“I need to see you… can we put a lamp on?” Han needed to see everything if he was going to add it to his memory bank. With a flick of a switch above the bed one of the bedside lamps came to life.

Now Han could see properly, he set to work. If yesterday was all about release and relief, tonight would be all about creating a memory that he could draw upon time and time again. Tonight he was going to go slow and take his time.

------------------

Sophie pov.

Han Jisung was really here! See he hadn’t stood me up. He hovered over me with an expression of overwhelm and desperation that made me yearn for him with every cell of my being. The way his wide eyes bored into me made me feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

He explored my bottom lip with his tongue, slowly running the tip along the sensitive skin and slowly pushed it into my mouth as our lips connected. His tongue massaged mine. Slowly. Deliberately. The way he was kissing me made my pelvis ache, my vagina squeeze tight and my body feel drunk. He pulled away and looked down on me with now hooded eyes and he bit down hard on his his lower lip, before leaning down to kiss the side of my neck, nipping at it and sucking the flesh. I let out a slight squeal and he smiled against my skin. 

Han’s hands and mouth explored every inch of my skin, first making his way from my neck to my breasts. He pinched one nipple lightly while his mouth found the other and sunk his teeth around it. It was pure heaven having his mouth attached to me like this. Then he swapped, taking the other nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue over it before biting it gently.

Eventually, his mouth made it’s way to my stomach and he kissed me there while his hands massaged my breasts. I didn’t take my eyes off of him while he worked his way down to my core. 

Han knew exactly what to do. He’d really paid attention yesterday, and he applied the same technique that had taken me over the edge. But this time he slowed the pace right down, and then he alternated from gentle and soft motions to hungry and passionate. I loved both, and I showed him how good he felt by rewarding him deep moans and whimpers.

He brought me to orgasm with his fingers deep inside me and his mouth covering my clitoris. I saw stars and I thought I was going to float away from how fucking amazing it felt. 

He made his way back up my body just as slowly as he went down it, making sure he gave every inch of skin equal care and attention. “I wanna remember. Every. Single. Part. Of. You.” He said between kisses to my stomach and crawled his way back up to be face to face with me. His lips glistened with my wetness and he had the audacity to lick his lips. “You taste so fucking good. Did you know that?” and he leaned down to kiss me messily so I could taste myself on him. “See… delicious right?” and he crashed his mouth back down on mine.

My hands explored Han’s body too, running them up and down his back. Stroking the back of his neck where his shaved undercut met his skin, and then slid them all the way to his fucking perky ass to pull his hips down to press against mine. I could feel his hard cock trapped between us and I was ready to beg him to be inside of me.

As if sensing my thoughts, or reading my body’s signals, Han lifted his hips enough to slide his hand down to my lips, sliding it through my wetness.

“Fuck!” I didn’t know if I had said it or if he did. All I knew is that this was pure bliss.

He removed his fingers and reached around the back of my thigh pulling it to the side, giving him access to nestle between my legs. With eyes locked on mine he allowed the head of his penis to brush against my lips. I inhaled sharply and my eyes plead with him to sink into me. He didn’t break eye contact as he pushed his hips against me and his cock effortlessly found my entrance and slipped inside with one motion.

Han let out a wobbly exhale, and once he was fully inside, he pushed even further ensuring he was as deep as possible. The stretch felt incredible, the pressure against my cervix exquisite. He really was made for me. 

“You doing okay, baby?” he panted. He hadn’t even started moving yet and he looked out of breath.

“Mmm-hmm” I nodded. I wanted him to start moving. I wanted him closer. I wanted him to consume me.

He began to move in and out of me, and the kisses started again. On my mouth. On my neck. My shoulder. My nipples. Whatever hand wasn’t propping himself up was caressing me tenderly.

He pulled away and leaned up on both his elbows to drink in my body with his gaze. Then he looked down to watch his cock as he pulled it out almost the whole way only to push it in again with long languid strokes. His mouth hung open and his tongue poked out the side and he lifted his head back up to me. 

“Your cock looks so good doing that to me.” I said.

“It sure fucking does. Your pussy takes me so well. It’s like we were made for each other.”

It was like we were made for each other.

Something in me snapped and I pulled him back down so that his whole weight was crushing me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist so that I could cling to him and hold him as close as possible. 

Han took both my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand, and reached around to my ass with the other, pulling my cheek to the side so he could grind deeper. He buried his face in my neck and sucked the skin hard enough it was going to leave marks. I wanted him to leave evidence.

His thrusts were still slow but they had more force behind them now. He’d pull out so slowly only to slam back in, hitting my cervix and creating a loud slapping sound as his body connected with mine.I wanted him to make me sore so I could feel him for days to come.

I want him to hurt me.

-------------------------------

Han pov.

Han knew he wanted to make love to Sophie, but he didn’t know making love could mean pinning her hands above her head as he his cock slammed into her. He didn’t know it could mean bursting the blood vessels on her neck or pinching her nipple so hard she arched her back and cried his name. He didn’t know it could mean digging his fingers so hard into her hips that she was bound to bruise, and he didn’t know it could mean placing a hand on her neck and gently applying pressure while she watched him with lustful eyes. But it was making love and Han couldn’t think of any other name to describe what has happening. It felt so…right.

Han balanced his forceful ministrations with tender kisses, gentle caresses and sweet words. He loved to hear the different ways her body responded under his touch, from high pitched cries, to long low moans and everything in between.

“Ride me, baby.” He huffed lifting Sophie up and top of him as he flipped onto his back. He had the perfect view now as she rolled her hips against him and eagerly cupped her own breasts. Han laid back and enjoyed what was happening above him. He watched her facial expression as she rode him, her breasts as she massaged them, and then his eyes drifted down to where the was sitting flush against his pelvis.

Sophie leaned down to kiss him gently as she began to move up and down along his length. He wrapped his arms around her tight and lifted his hips to meet hers as she slid back down his cock. She was so fucking wet too. Obscene, wet noises filled the room as their breathing became ragged and strained.

“I’m really close…. Can you come with me?” He stammered.

“Yes…I’m…I’m gonna come…I’m close…” and with that Sophie lifted back up and threw her head back as she bucked and rocked on him with abandonment. Han held her hips guiding her as she started to falter and he felt her walls tighten around him. It sent Han over the edge and he choked on his breath as he released himself deep inside of her. He felt like the air had been stolen from his lungs and his entire body buzzed.

“That was fucking incredible, Han.” Sophie flopped down on his chest panting. “Where did you learn to be so good at that, huh?”

Han stroked her back that was now covered in a sheen of sweat. He could feel her heart racing against him.

“What? Making love?” he joked.

“Yeah…Making love. How’d you learn to be so good at it?”

“I don’t know…I’ve never really…made love before. It had always just been sex.”

Sophie slowly slid off his spent cock and laid against his side.

“If that's what making love's supposed to be Han, then I’d never done it either." She smiled.

---------------------------

Sophie Pov.

Han made love to me three more times that night. The man truly had an endless supply of energy and an endless supply of semen! Each time we started slow, his cock would struggle to squeeze into my sore and swollen lips.

“I’m not hurting you am I baby?” He’d ask me each time.

“No Han, it feels achingly good…keep going.” Would be my answer.

I lost count of the number of times he took me to the stars. During one time tears sprung from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, sending me into a blubbering mess. We both came and then broke down in sobs. Fuck he made my heart ache so bad.

Eventually, Han did run out of energy and we fell asleep covered in sweat, tears and cum. We could clean up in the morning, but for now I needed to be mingled with him for a while longer.

--------------------------------

“Can I video you?” Han asked through ragged breaths. I hesitated. He wants to what? He wants to video me?

My brain ran through all the possible implications. 

What if someone saw it?

What if it got leaked?

If I let him record me I’d have no control over it.

Has he done this before?

Does he video all his encounters?

Does he have a whole hard drive of conquests?

Han and I had woken up half an hour earlier at half past five in the morning, so that we could have a few more hours together. He was lazily fucking me, because we needed to be connected for as long as possible, when he popped the video question.

“Baby,” he broke my thoughts. “We don’t have to…” he reassured me. “I..don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He stroked my inner thigh lightly, tenderly.

“Yes…” I whispered. “Yes it’s okay…it’s just…I’ve never done something like that before.” I lowered my eyes sheepishly.

“Me either…But I really want to… If you’re okay with it.”

I studied his face. His expression was soft and caring. He was being honest. He was telling the truth.

I nodded. “Yes… let’s do it.” My concern faded and was replaced with a nervous smile.

He’s going to have me forever.

He’s going to jerk off to this later.

I’m going to make him come long after today.

The thought excited me.

Han pulled out of me and fetched his phone. Then repositioned himself, kneeling between my legs.

He looked up at me. “Are you ready, Sophie.” He whispered.

I sucked in my bottom lip and nodded profusely.

Holding the phone near his chest, he aimed it down towards my pussy. Then with a few pumps of his cock with his hand he pushed the head against my lips, sliding it from the entrance up to my clitoris. I gasped and looked down to watch his cock slide up and down through my sensitive labia. They were swollen and sore now from all the delicious fucking we’d been doing, yet I wanted him to give me more.

“Han…” I squeaked, my voice cracking. He looked up at me, camera following his gaze. “I…Please…I need your cock inside me…” I begged. I wanted him to know how much I needed him, right now in this moment, and every time he watched his video in the future. I hooked a hand under each of my thighs and pulled them as wide as I could so I could give him the best view possible.

With what could only described as a growl, Han pointed the camera back down between us, and plunged his cock inside of me.

“Fuck… you feel so tight…baby.” He panted. He’d been saying that all night, as though every time he penetrated me was for the first time. For me, each time I felt that first push inside of me it felt like relief. Relief that he was finally back where I needed him most. Back where he belonged.

His jaw was slack, mouth agape, as he concentrated on long, slow thrusts. He’d drag his cock out almost to the tip, pause, then squeeze back inside to the hilt. His eyes flickering between what he saw in real life, and the screen on his phone. The noises I was making were becoming obscene and pornographic. I needed him to know how good, how perfect, he felt.

He looked so fucking hot filming me like this just as it felt so erotic being filmed!

“I wanna see you play with yourself, baby.” He instructed.

I let go of one of my legs and Han pressed against it with his free hand, keeping it pinned out of the way. He was stronger than me and pushed my leg further than I thought it could go.

I reached down to my pussy and spread my lips with two fingers, exposing my most intimate parts to the man filming me.

Han’s eyes glazed over, his eyes hooded, and he hadn’t closed his mouth yet. He hungrily licked his lip as he watched me begin to swirl my fingers over my clit and then rub and flick the nub in an upward motion.

The camera drifted up my body and to my face. I stared right into the lens with with an expression of pure ecstasy. I bit my lower lip hard as my eyes begged him to ruin me.

Han whispered a “Fuck!” under his breath and he suddenly snapped his hips faster, making my breasts bounce and knock the breath out of me.

“That’s it, Han… Fuck me faster…harder…” I cried out. “I wanna come on your cock!”

Han’s hips pounded into me, and the sudden change from the relentless, slow thrusts that he had been torturing me with previously, to this forceful pace, tipped me over the precipice. My back arched off the bed, my hands gripped the sheets as I released a long, primal guttural moan. I didn’t care how I sounded or how I looked, or what it must’ve looked like on video. I was too wrapped up in the moment to give a fuck.

“That was so god damned hot.” Han said dead seriously. He’d stopped fucking me and was staring at me in wonderment.

“You make me this way.” I panted and relaxed my body back into the bed.

Han paused in thought. “Baby…Sophie…?” he put the phone down on the bed beside him and crawled up to meet my face. He stroked my cheek and kissed my jawline. “There’s something…one more thing I want to try…” he hovered over me, looking in my eyes with a nervous expression. “And… We really don’t have to do it… And if we start…and you feel like you need to stop… you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

I cupped his adorable cheeks with both hands and kissed him.

“Han…” I cooed. “What is it? What do you want to try?”

Han swallowed “I wanna fuck your ass.” He said and exhaled loudly.

I raised an eyebrow, then softened my face. “Then do it.”

Han’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re sure?” he sounded shocked. “Okay… Um…Well…lube…We’ll need the lube.” He scrambled off me to retrieve the lube from the bedside table (we’d been using it here and there throughout the night), and I positioned myself on all fours.

Han knelt behind me. “Do I need to…you know… prep you?” He had already squirted some lube on his fingers and massaging my rim. Oh fuck! It felt so good. I dug my teeth into my lower lip to muffle a moan when his thumb breached my opening. His other hand greedily attacked my sopping pussy, slipping two fingers inside of me and digging into my g-spot.

“Fuck Han!” I squealed. “You’re gonna make me come again doing that!” my surprised reaction morphed into a laugh, and then into a low moan as his fingers dug at my sensitive walls.

“Just trying to get you ready to take me.” He grinned and slid his two fingers out only to return with three fingers directed straight into my g-spot. I mewled at the stretch and the ache in my pelvis.

“Ah but Han, baby, that’s not the hole you’re getting me ready for!” I teased. He growled roughly and removed his thumb from my ass and repositioned his hand so he could press against me with two lubricated fingers. “Are you ready, baby?”

I nodded “Please…hurry.”

He pushed his two fingers into me.

“Is that better?”

“Mmm-hhhm.” I hissed through gritted my teeth.

“Does it hurt, baby? I can stop.”

Does it hurt, baby? Those words made me want nothing more than to have him hurt me deliberately just to say those words. But in my mind instead of “I can stop” he’d say “Can you be a good girl and take it for me?”

“Yes…yes it hurts but in the best possible way.” I managed through my panting breath. “Hurt me more.” I whined.

Han hesitated.

“I’ll say red if I need you stop, okay?” I promised.

“Okay baby, if you’re sure.” His words were barely a whisper.

Han removed all his digits and I cried out at the emptiness. The emptiness wasn’t just in my body, it was in my heart too. Is this what it will feel like when this is over?

I felt Han’s cock push against my rim. “If you’re ready, baby, I want you take me, okay? All of me. I know how badly you want it.” He pushed the head past my rim.

“Oh…fucking…God…” The stretch was like nothing I’d ever felt. It was like I was being split in two. I gripped the sheets and squeezed my eyes shut, panting until the burning eased.

“M..more…” I mumbled. “I…want…need -”

“Shhh. It’s okay, baby. It won’t be long until I’m fucking you, okay?” Han cooed and massaged my ass cheeks.

As Han continued to penetrate me it sounded like he was struggling to compose himself. His breath was short and shallow and he kept muttering how “fucking tight” I was and how good it felt. It felt satisfying knowing that I made him feel this way.

I continued to hiss through my teeth at the intensity of pleasure I felt with every slight movement that was caused merely from our breathing.

It felt like Han was filling up my entire body, stretching me so wide I thought I’d die.

And then I felt his hips against me. He was completely inside me.

“You’re taking me so well.” He was saying all the right things to make me completely lose my mind, and I started bucking against him.

Holding onto my hips, Han guided me forward halfway off his cock and then slid my hips back to meet his.

“Jesus Christ…this…fuck…Oh shit…This feels…” Han cried “I have to go harder…is that okay? Do you think you can take it?” He pulled hips away and slammed then against me, ramming his cock into me. Then again, groaning loudly.

My arms gave way making me fall face first into the mattress, and my legs were struggling to hold me up. He was so deep inside me it felt like I was going to choke on his cock. My body felt like it was going to burst into a million pieces and scatter across the universe.

“Yes, Han…Please…Fuck the FEELINGS out of me!”

Han stopped abruptly and went quiet.

“Han?” my voice was tiny and wobbly. Fuck! Shit! Why did he stop?

He pulled his cock out of my ass and flipped me onto my back forcefully. Anger burned in his eyes and his brow furrowed as he glared at me. Wordlessly, he grabbed a pillow, folded it in half and pushed it underneath my hips He grabbed my legs not caring how hard he gripped me and hooked them over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he cupped the side of my face and roughly shoved a thumb into the corner of my mouth forcing me to suck his thumb. Then his hand slipped down to my neck. I stared into his burning, furious eyes as he squeezed his hand around my neck. I felt the air constrict. My eyes widened.

“WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?” he growled. “Why do want me to fuck…the feelings… out of you?” he winced at the last part, his voice sounding hurt. The anger in his eyes turning to despair.

I placed a hand over the hand on my neck, tears welling up in my eyes. He released his grip, but his hand remained where it was. He dropped his head and sighed.

“Han…” I sobbed. “It hurts.” He looked up at me confused. “In here.” I moved his hand from around my neck and placed it on my chest. His eyes followed his hand to where I’d placed it over my heart. “I thought maybe you could…like…fuck it away.”

Han’s face turned soft. “Oh baby,” he soothed and took my hand to his chest “it hurts for me too.”

Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed loudly.

“Baby…shh” he leaned in kissing away my tears, stroking my face. “It’ll be okay. It will. I promise.”

“I know…it’s just…hard.” I sniffled.

“Hey, come here.” He said soothingly and mouth met mine with a slow deep kiss. A kiss that made every part of me surrender, and every inch of my body and every cell of my being melt. His tongue danced tenderly with mine, and I moaned into his mouth making him smile. I sucked on his lower lip taking the flesh into my mouth savoring the feel and the taste, before pushing my tongue into his mouth.

I could feel his cock twitching against me.

“It seems you’re getting excited again, Sir.” I teased.

“Grrr… you make me crazy, you know that?” He grinned.

I smirked, although I must have looked a complete mess with my puffy eyes and tear-stained face.

“You know…” he leaned in close to my ear. “I won’t fuck your feelings out…but I tell you what I can do.” He whispered darkly.

“What?” I asked eagerly, my breath hitching.

“I can fuck your brains out.”

He pushed himself up to kneel between my legs. “Would you like me to do that?” he asked, pressing himself against my ass again.

“Yes, Han I want you to.”

He reapplied whatever remaining lube we still had to his dick, and with barely any warning he pushed his entire length into me.

I welcomed every sensation that came with it. The burning, the stretch, the fullness, the pain. The sensations were amplified more than double, as they resonated with how my heart felt too. It too burned, and stretched, felt full, and it was definitely in pain. My heart and body together.

I closed my eyes losing myself to the feeling as Han hovered above me.

“Don’t take you eyes off me.” It was more of a beg than a demand or request.

I locked my eyes on his, his face contorted with angst and euphoria as his cock dragged along my inner walls and I squeezed around him like a vice.

“I’m gonna fuck your brains out now…and you can’t come ‘till I say.” He said huskily. “And you can’t look away. I wanna see your eyes the whole time.”

“O…okay..” I nodded.

Han set a brutal pace. It was the hardest he’d gone the entire two nights together. His hips snapped fast, rutting into me relentlessly. He slammed into me so hard that I knew that I would be feeling this for days. It’s what I had wanted all along, to feel him even after this. His body was sweaty and burning hot as I ran my hands over his biceps and shoulders, and my fingernails down his back.

The noises were absolutely obscene, my groans, whimpers and cries becoming louder and more feral. Han was making a lot of noise too, his breathing was laboured and heavy, and he kept muttering in Korean. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but when they were they dark and hazy and locked on mine. We only truly broke eye contact when our mouth crashed together in messy, wet kisses.

“Fuck, I really do think you were made for me, Soph-” he breathed.

I could feel my orgasm approaching, and was nearly sent hurtling over the edge with one particularly hard thrust that made me cry out. “Han…!”

“Yes, Sophie?” he said as he slowed his pace for a moment.

“I…I’m so…so close.” I whined.

Han smiled and kissed me. “Me too, baby. You can come when you’re ready, okay?” he leaned his forehead on mine. “I won’t be far behind you.”

I nodded. “Okay… keep going.”

Han began to move again but he didn’t match the pace he had set before. His thrusts still had force behind them, but they were much slower and it heightened the sensations. I could focus on how exactly his cock felt as it dragged against my insides, or the how my stretched rim felt as he passed through it back and forth, or how my vagina would clench and ache as it yearned to be filled.

“Oh God! Oh….fuck!!!” My entire body stiffened and I choked on my breath as I saw stars. My orgasm wouldn’t slow down, it just kept going and I dug my fingers into his shoulders as I cried out.

“Come for me Han. I want you to own me.” I somehow managed, even though I thought my lungs had stopped working.

Han groaned as he released himself deep inside me, coating my walls as my extended orgasm eventually faded.

Han pulled out and collapsed on top of me out of breath and panting. He removed the pillow, not caring about the cum seeping out underneath me (we’d given up caring at this point), and propped himself up on and elbow.

“That was…intense.” He grinned the biggest fucked-out grin I’d ever seen. “You’re incredible.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m so lucky to have met you, you know that?”

I stroked his cheek. “You know what happened, don’t you?”

He looked at me intrigued. “What?” he smirked.

“We turned what was supposed to be raw and dirty anal sex into making love.”

“Ha!” he bellowed “True! You know what that means, right?”

I shook my head “No. What?”

“With all this making love, we might be in love.” He nestled his head onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around him tight.

“Maybe.” I sighed, but I didn’t let my mind entertain that idea.

————

Han pov.

Han turned on the shower and waited for the hot water to come through.

“I can’t promise I won’t grope you.” He joked as he ushered Sophie into the shower with him. She stepped into the cubicle and allowed Han to soap her up.

“And I can’t promise I won’t spank your ass.” She equally teased, smacking him on the butt.

Their time together was almost over and they had finally come to terms with it (not just putting on a brave face, surely).

And after their shower they ordered room service breakfast and scoffed down muffins and fruit because it was tasty (not to squash down their sadness, or anything like that).

Eventually, it really was time to say goodbye.

“Sophie,” He held her tight as they stood at the hotel room entrance. “I’ll never forget what.. What we shared. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me…to feel like myself again.”

“You’d better not forget!” She playfully punched his arm. “You’ve got a fucking porno of me in your phone!”

Han grinned like an idiot. “Yeah!” he feigned embarrassment.

“Well…” he started and looked down at his feet.

“Yeah…” Sophie responded quietly, eyes downcast.

“I.. I have to go.”

Then Sophie threw her arms around him, almost knocking him over.

And she kissed him. Really kissed him. A kiss that was full of love and sorrow. A kiss that was a “thank you” and a “you’re welcome”. A kiss that was a “goodbye” and an “until next time”.

And Han kissed her back. He wanted to say so much but he couldn’t find the words. At least not English words. Actually, even the Korean words were hard to find. It was unlike Han to be speechless. But he tried to convey how he felt in the way he kissed her. A slow, tender, deep kiss. He tried to memorise the softness of her lips, and the taste of her tongue, the way she’d bite his lip as he pulled his mouth away.

“Remember me, okay?” He whispered.

“How could I ever forget you?” she replied.

—-----------------------

Tears had already escaped Han as he walked back to his room, and once he was inside he fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably, where no one could hear or see him.

-----------------------------------

One Month Later

Han Pov.

A month later Han was in a hotel room in Atlanta. He’d just finished a show he was alone again with his thoughts.

Even though he always kept himself busy, thoughts of Sophie still crept into his head. He hardly slept because he’d dream about her. Last night he dreamed that she was on tour with him, but when he woke up he was alone.

He searched for her face everywhere he went. Every show, every meet, fucking everywhere! He searched even when he knew there was no possibility that she’d even be there. He wrote songs about her. He tried to distract himself with work.

And every night he would open his phone and watch the video of her. Seeing how she came undone on his cock always made him so hard and so heartbroken.

Sometimes he’d jerk off to watching the video like a porno. Sometimes he’d just listen to the audio in the dark and fantasise about fucking her while he got off.

Sometimes he just watched it without masturbating just to see her face and hear her voice.

And sometimes he’d cry when he watched it.

“Pull yourself together.” He would say, “or this is the last time I’m going to watch this.”

He even contemplated deleting the video entirely but he could never bring himself to do it.

That night, Han opened his contact list, like he did every night, and brought Sophie’s number up on the screen.

“You can’t fucking call her.”  He’d say each and every time.

This time he hit dial.

----------------------------

Sophie Pov.

After my time with Han my life went back to it’s regular rhythm, but it was like I was living on autopilot, and in some sort of hazy state. It was like I was doing all of the things Sophie does, but nothing felt right anymore.

Stray Kids were finishing their final leg of their tour and it took every ounce of will power not to watch clips of Han on Instagram. I didn’t want to be reminded of him, and I knew if I did look, it would be like picking a scab off a wound too soon.

It was a struggle to move on and I had often found myself thinking about him. 

It would start when I opened my eyes in the morning. I’d imagine he was curled up beside me. Then I’d wonder what he was doing right now. If he was in Korea was he still fast asleep? What is he dreaming about? Does he dream about me? If he was in another country what is he doing? Do I creep into his mind too?

Does he watch the video he took?

And then eventually I’d get up and go about my day functioning as best I could. 

I didn’t know how he felt. All I knew for sure was that I hadn’t forgot about him.

The weeks passed and the foggy haze that had been clouding be began to ease just slightly. I’d decided that it was okay to be sad and to grieve. It was a special, once in a lifetime, romantic encounter, and I shouldn’t want to forget it. I somehow found the trust in myself that eventually the pain will fade and this will one day be a cherished memory. One that will make my heart burst with happiness, rather than feel heavy and ache. I just wish it’d hurry the fuck up.

One Friday afternoon I was in a cafe working on my laptop, enjoying a coffee and cake. Stray Kids were in the US finishing off their tour. I knew because I’d started to become brave and and sneak a few peeks at Instagram. It was okay if I looked at clips of the other members, but if I saw Han my chest would pound and I’d have to turn it off. I was still not ready to look at him.

I finished my work, packed up and paid for my afternoon tea before heading out into the warm afternoon sun. 

As I walked I focused my mind on my surroundings.

What could I see? The beautiful parkland to my left. The green grass. Trees that have been there far longer than I’ve been alive.

What could I feel? The warm sun. The breeze. The heaviness of my laptop bag strap digging into my shoulder.

What could I hear? People talking. Seagulls squawking. My phone ringing.

My phone ringing? Fuck! 

I scrambled into by bag searching for my phone. It was probably a client. I pulled it out and looked at who was calling me.

Incoming Call: Han Jisung

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Han fucking Jisung?

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Han video called me every week. And in between he’d send me selfies and sweet messages. Occasionally, I’d get a cheeky dick pic. He said those particular photos were to make me so hungry that I’d fly to Korea.

I would count down the days until our video calls. It’s where we got to learn about, and get to know each other properly. We’d talk about everything. From my childhood to his time as a trainee, our passions, interests, dreams. Sometimes we’d talk about random shit, or he’d show me a new song.

He’d share with me his struggles and worries, and he’d listen to mine, always offering me empathy.

Sometimes our calls turned sexy and he’d masturbate while he instructed me to undress and play with myself. Sometimes he’d get me to use my toys or demonstrate the fluffy plug for him. 

One particular evening we were on one of our calls and I’d slipped my top off for him. 

“Fuck, baby! I’ll never get sick of your tits!” He hissed and I knew he was playing with himself.

“I should’ve given them more attention.” He said regretfully.

I responded with a seductive smirk and began to play with my nipples and then cup them in my palms, squeezing and massaging them. 

“Imagine these wrapped around you cock, Han.” I suggested huskily as I pushed my breasts together. “Would you like to fuck my tits?”

Han’s mouth fell open and his tongue hung out the corner as he worked his cock. I couldn’t see what he was doing but his face told me that he’d come because of the way he squeezed his eyes shut, and from the choked sound in his throat. I loved seeing Han’s “pleasure face” as we’d affectionately started calling it. 

Once he came back down to earth he stared at me lovingly, and reached out to touch the screen.

“I’d give anything to hold you right now.” He whispered. He had pure longing in his eyes.

I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I’d planned to taunt and tease him and drop hints. But the pained, tormented look he was giving me melted my heart.

“Well baby!” I smiled. “You will get to touch me very soon.” 

Han’s expression changed from longing to confusion, and then to hope. He raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened questioningly as realisation hit him.

“Wait! What? … Does that…. mean?” 

I grinned “Yep, Han. I’ve bought flights to Korea!”

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Thank you for taking the time to read my Han and Sophie story... I am a sucker for a Han love story.

Hope you enjoyed.