#I had to deal with this guy for over an hour a few days ago and now again today and I

[widevibratobitch]

omw to play emotional support for my mom disguised as ✨fun family bonding time✨ for the rest of the week <3333 there's something so deeply wrong with me uwu teehee

[js337]

customer got me so frustrated my heart was racing and I came very close to visibly shaking. had to ask my shift lead if I could take my lunch after bc I just could not focus on any work, I actually had to go cool off lmao. this never happens

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[hedgehog-moss]

I went to see the transhumance last week and it was an experience! I've lived here for five years and I'd never been to this event despite it being advertised in the library & town hall every year because I thought, it's just cows crossing a town on their way to their summer pastures, it's not that interesting—but I didn't realise that people turned it into a whole party, as people tend to do. When I arrived in town I found that a nearby field had been (temporarily) turned into a car park to accommodate the many, many visitors who came to see the spectacle—and I was like, maybe I've been missing out on something.

The town was festooned with tassels and garlands (some of the cows were also festooned, with big pompons on their horns) (festoon is a really great English word.) When I arrived there was a thriving little market with several cheese stands, because of course people would take this opportunity to sell their cheeses. They also sold bread, fruit, and cow milk-based desserts including ice-cream, so you were covered if you wanted lunch. (Unless you're lactose intolerant. I'm sorry.)

There were also folk dancers, and a contest going on where you had to guess the weight of an absolutely massive bull (see above). (My guess was way off, he weighed 1 200 kg!) There was a stand with a guy selling beautiful, framed photos of his cows. In one photo a cow was whispering something in her friend's ear. Nearby some prize cows were waiting to be paraded around and one of them was wearing a halter with a little heart <3

(I was invited for apéritif at a neighbour's house a few months ago, he's a retired farmer and he had old Kodak photos of his cows from the 1980s and 90s all over his house. He remembered their names and personalities.)

There was also a stand selling a dizzying variety of cow bells, and I've been resisting the temptation to buy a cow bell for five years now because, well, it's such a cliché tourist thing to buy, but I will probably end up buying one someday. It's hard to resist their allure. I'm not sure which of my animals will have to deal with the humiliation of wearing a bell for a few hours and being photographed cosplaying as a cow against his will.

(Definitely Pirlouit.)

I was buying an ice-cream and asking the vendor if the cows were fashionably late when finally, the herds started arriving. One herd would cross the town, with onlookers clapping and cheering (including from their balconies), then people went back to buying cheese and watching the dancers or the brass band, and commenting on the prize cows strutting on the plaza, then another herd would arrive half an hour later and children would run ahead to warn everyone "They're coming!" (kids love being sentinels) and people would eagerly gather again to clap and cheer as they walked past, and it went on like this all day. You'd think you might get tired of eating ice-cream and clapping for cows but no, people were still enthusiastic when the last herd came.

Imagine being a local cow, and every year when your owners take you to your summer pastures in the mountain you cross a town where people are eating cow milk ice-cream and clapping for you gratefully as you walk past, and buying cow merch (like bells) and admiring an exhibit of framed photos of you and your friends, and watching cow supermodels walking the catwalk on the plaza, and just as you think you've reached maximum levels of appreciation you reach the entrance of town and there's a lifesized statue in your honour in the middle of the roundabout. These cows must have such solid self-esteem.

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt3) | Leah Williamson

A bit more of Leah while everything around you gets more intense warnings: just fluff and slow burn pt1 - pt4 - my masterlist

Leah's love for tennis skirts had just been solidified. She found herself frozen, her fork suspended midway to her mouth. Your video call had caught her off guard, and the first thing to greet her on the screen was you, your back facing the camera, only in your sports bra and the skirt you wore during your recent match, which had wrapped up just a few hours ago.

"Hellooo?" Leah said, gently placing her fork back onto the table.

"Just a sec!" you called out, still with your back turned to the camera.

Leah watched as you reached into your bag, pulling out a black t-shirt that you slipped on.  Unlike the tight one you wore for tennis, this one was baggy—definitely a guy’s shirt, she thought.

"Did you watch my match?" you asked, now facing the camera on your phone, which sat at the coffee table in the room.

"Yep" Leah replied, flipping her phone’s camera to show the TV tuned to the sports channel.  “Feeling nervous about the quarterfinals?” she asked, sounding both curious and supportive.

"Nah... I don't know who I'll be facing yet though," you said, slipping off your socks. "At least I’ve got two days to rest before the game."

"Yeah, like you’ll actually rest," Leah teased.

"You're probably right," you chuckled knowing she had you figured out. During your first call yesterday, you had explained your intense training routine before matches. "What are you having?" you asked Leah, curiosity evident in your voice as you held your phone again.

"Smiley faces," Leah said, poking a potato and showing it to you through the camera.

"What?" you laughed, not quite sure what she was showing you.

"Potato smiles. Delicious," she said, grinning as she popped the potato into her mouth.

"Ew! Didn't your mum teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" you teased, though you found it amusing to watch Leah goof around. "Do they taste like real potatoes? I've never tried them."

"What are you talking about?" Leah gasped, dramatically dropping her fork onto her plate. "Are you kidding me?"

"Whoa, you sound genuinely offended," you said, struggling to contain your laughter.

"Of course I am! How is it possible you've never tasted these? What did you eat all through your childhood?" she asked, her face completely serious.

"Leah... would you believe me if I told you I didn't try a nugget until I was 16?" you said, your tone turning more serious. "It was when a friend from school invited me over for dinner. My mum was always particular about what I ate." Leah's expression turned to a slight frown as she listened intently. "I always had well-balanced, hearty meals. She just wasn't a fan of processed food," you said, hoping to provide context and prevent any misconceptions about your mother.

"Sounds... kind of sad," Leah said, finishing her last potato. "I should invite you over for smiley faces, shouldn't I?" she asked with a shy smile.

"You could... I'd gladly accept," you replied.

"I'll think about it," Leah said, shaking her head with a playful grin. After a brief pause, her face suddenly lit up. "Oh, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" you asked, intrigued.

"Today, something caught my eye. Well, actually, it's been catching my eye for a while now, but I think I've finally spotted a pattern," Leah explained, narrowing her eyes. "Your chain around your neck... I've seen you tug on it from time to time."

By reflex, your hand went to your neck, and you felt a brief panic when you didn't feel the chain right away, realizing it was hidden beneath your shirt.

"Is it something significant to you?" Leah asked.

"Yes and no. It's kind of silly," you replied, settling into bed and arranging the phone between the pillows. "Sometimes when I'm feeling nervous or a bit anxious, I tug on it to remind myself it's there, but it's not a big deal to me. I started wearing it a few years ago for a silly reason."

You hesitated, thinking you might bore Leah with the details. But seeing her through the screen, now cozy on her couch with a blanket over her legs and a smile on her face, you realized that perhaps this time someone would actually be interested in listening to you.

"I've never been picky," you began to explain. "I never asked my parents for anything special. They always gave me everything I needed, especially when it came to things that could improve my game. But as for gifts, I always felt too embarrassed to ask for certain things." You bit your lip, trying to stay on track with your story. "The thing is, I always wanted a chain. I didn't care much about the material. Everyone at the academy had one, boys and girls. It's a common accessory, after all. I wanted to be like them."

You fell silent, suddenly feeling a bit silly for sharing such trivial details. Leah, however, misinterpreted your silence and blank stare, thinking she had touched on a sensitive subject.

"Did someone special give you the chain you wear?" Leah's gentle voice interrupted your thoughts.

"No," you shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. "I bought it myself. That's why it has my initial on it," you explained, holding the chain up to the camera.

Leah felt conflicted. On one hand, the story ended with a bit of humor, but on the other, there was a hint of sadness. It was the kind of gift typically given by a loved one or partner, and in the end, you had to buy it for yourself… which was a bit sad.

"After I won my first WTA title, I had quite a bit of money, so I went to the first jewelry store I could find and bought it," you explained.

You noticed the puzzled expression on Leah's face; she had gone silent when you expected her to laugh at the end of the story. You smiled nervously, wondering if you were diving too deep into conversations with her.

"Maybe she thinks you're weird," the insecurity echoed in your head.

Just then, a notification popped up on your phone, rescuing you from overthinking.

"Ugh, I've got to go meet Lucas. He wants to work on my serve," you said, standing up quickly with your phone in hand.

"You have a great serve," Leah said without hesitation.

"You're only saying that because you're a fan," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach that always fluttered when Leah complimented your game.

"Exactly, and I watch every move you make," she said, crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose playfully.

"How adorable," you thought to yourself.

"Tell your coach you don't need any improvement," Leah said.

"He's my coach. I pay him to help me get better," you said as you slipped on your shoes.

"Yeah, whatever," Leah responded with a playful smirk.

"Do you buy the whole love at first sight thing? Ouch!" you winced as your physio applied pressure, stretching your leg into a position that felt tight.

"Take a deep breath," advised your therapist, easing off the pressure. "There you go," she said, gently returning your leg to its natural position.

"It's not something I believe in, in case you're wondering," you said, laying face down on the table and removing your headphones. Conversations during your physio sessions were rare, you typically dozed off, hence the headphones to drown out the noise around you.

"I guess that's not your cup of tea," your physio chuckled softly, now focusing on massaging your calves. "Is she pretty? They say love often comes in through the eyes, especially if it's love at first sight, as you said."

"She's definitely pretty, yeah," you admitted, wincing as your therapist's thumbs applied pressure into your muscles. "Geez, who said these sessions were relaxing?" you muttered, closing your eyes to bear the discomfort. "She's pretty, but it's more than that... I feel like I can talk to her."

"Y/N, you talk with tons of people every day," your therapist reminded you. "Honestly, you never seem to stop talking," she added with a laugh.

"It's different with her. I can talk about anything, even tennis, but there's no pressure... It's like talking to her puts me at ease," you explained.

It was so calming that you had fallen asleep chatting with her the last two nights.

"I shouldn't be catching feelings for someone I'm just getting to know," you sighed.

"Well, actually, it's perfectly normal," your physio reassured you.

You sighed with relief as the tension in your muscles began to ease under her skilled hands. It wasn't a sigh of relief because someone validated your growing feelings for Leah. Definitely not.

"There are times when love hits you fast and hard, you know? When it's intense." the woman explained, now focusing on your back. "And you, my dear, are intense. It wouldn't be surprising if you fell in love just as fast."

"I haven't fallen in love," you protested, attempting to sit up from the table, but your therapist effortlessly kept you pinned down with a swift motion.

"And you're impulsive," she added with a tired sigh, familiar with your reactions. "I'm surprised you haven't declared yourself to her already."

"There is no one," you insisted.

"You've already admitted there's a pretty girl and that you have feelings for her, even if you're not quite sure what those feelings are yet," she teased with a mischievous smile. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have someone special," she suggested, helping you onto your back on the table. "She could be good for you… here" she said, gently touching your heart. "And here," she continued, touching your temple with her finger.

"What are we watching?" Lia asked, settling down next to Leah on the couch. They had planned a dinner date to catch up, but Lia suspected it was more about Leah avoiding another night of cooking.

"There's a match about to start," Leah replied, quickly grabbing the remote from her friend's hands.

Lia glanced at the screen, which now displayed the stats of two tennis players. "Has Wimbledon started already?"

"No," Leah sighed, rolling her eyes. "There are tournaments throughout the year, not just the Grand Slams," she explained, her focus on the screen.

"Since when are you an expert on this?" Lia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's basic knowledge, not all sports revolve around football," Leah defended herself as the players stepped onto the court.

"Is this match a big deal?" 

"It's the quarterfinals," Leah replied.

"How do they win?" Lia inquired further.

"They win by taking two sets." Leah explained, her irritation starting to show.

"And how do they win those sets?" Lia pressed on.

"God, Lia, just watch and you'll figure it out," Leah snapped, feeling her nerves creeping in. She was clearly on edge.

“Why are you so grumpy today?” Lia eyed her suspiciously.

"What's wrong with her? What's she doing?" murmured Leah, leaning back on the couch, her eyes glued to the match on the tv screen.

"Huh?" Lia turned to her.

"She's struggling to reach her shots," Leah pointed out, just as you lost another point. "She had the match in her bag."

It was true. You had started strong, winning the first set 6-1 and even taking a 4-1 lead in the second set. But now, your opponent had fought back, and you found yourself in a 1-6 tiebreaker, unable to secure more than a single point.

"Set point," was announced on the tv, and Leah waved her hand.

You positioned yourself, shifting from side to side, anticipating your opponent's serve. But before you could react, she sent a powerful shot down the line, leaving you with no chance to return it.

"Bloody hell," Leah exclaimed, standing up from the couch.

"Woah, I didn't know you were so into tennis," Lia remarked, intrigued by Leah's intense reaction.

"It just frustrates me when they give away easy points during a match," Leah explained, which was partly true. Your unforced errors had contributed to your opponent's comeback in the set.

Leah let out a long sigh and sank back onto the couch. She couldn't relax until you managed to turn the match around and win the third set tiebreaker 7-4, securing your spot in the semifinals. You had come dangerously close to losing your spot in the semifinals.

Leah couldn't bring herself to try talking to you all day. It had been a dreadful match, one of the worst she had ever seen you play. Despite not knowing you that well, Leah figured you probably needed some space and didn't want to talk to anyone for a while. She had watched you storm off the court after the match, something she had never seen you do before. The heated exchanges with the chair umpire and the tense moments with your coach had been impossible to ignore. 

She had only mustered the courage to send a brief message: 

"Hope you're doing okay." 

But you hadn't responded yet.

So, when she was already tucked up in bed, half asleep, she was surprised to see an incoming video call from you.

"Y/N?" Leah replied, not looking at the screen as she fumbled to switch on her nightstand lamp.

"Shit, I didn't mean to wake you up." you apologized.

"I wasn't quite asleep yet," Leah said, finally turning her attention to the screen. "Are you okay?" she asked, sitting up in bed, noticing your slightly red and puffy eyes.

"Yeah," you lied, settling back on the couch and pulling your blanket up to your neck. "What about you? How was your day?"

"I just watched your match, which was horrible," Leah thought, feeling sorry for you, but instead she replied, "Not much. I just had dinner with some friends."

Leah couldn't help but smile as she saw your features relax at her answer. She knew you had probably anticipated her bringing up the match. You had mentioned how intense your day usually was: tennis talk at breakfast, tennis talk in the afternoon, tennis talk at dinner.

"Nothing too delicious," Leah continued. "Did you have dinner?"

You didn't respond verbally, instead, you shook your head and bit your lip, a sign of your struggle to hold back tears. Leah immediately noticed.

"I was running late and didn't feel like eating alone," you explained. "But my physio brought me a sandwich about half an hour ago. I'm just not hungry."

Leah frowned. She mentally calculated the hours since the match had ended at noon. Considering the disastrous game, you probably hadn't eaten afterward, and your stomach was likely empty except for breakfast.

"You should eat," Leah insisted gently.

"I don't want to eat alone, it's... depressing," you admitted, sinking further into the couch. Leah could barely see your mouth now, the blanket covering you.

"Okay, hold on," Leah said, letting out a sigh as she got out of bed. She placed the phone on her bed and reached for a hoodie. "Come on," she said, picking up her phone again.

You watched through the screen as Leah left her room and headed to her kitchen, leaving the phone on the counter.

"Okay, what kind of sandwich did you get?"

"Huh?"

"I'll eat with you," Leah explained simply, reaching for the bag of bread. "Well?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. It was such a tender gesture, one that softened your heart. Leaning over to the coffee table, you picked up the bag your physio had left there. You hadn't even opened it yet.

"Let me see..." you said, pulling out the sandwich and reading the ingredients on the box. "Tuna, cucumber, mayonnaise, and salad cream."

"Ugh, not my favorite," Leah said, her face visible at the edge of the screen as she looked through her fridge.

"What's your favorite?" you asked, starting to unwrap your sandwich. Suddenly feeling your appetite return.

"I'm a ham and cheese girl. I like to keep it simple," Leah explained, already assembling her own sandwich.

"Sounds boring," you teased with a chuckle. Leah stuck her tongue out at you. "I prefer egg sandwiches. Probably the store didn't have any."

"What else did your physio get you?"

"Uh... a bottle of water and a bottle of juice."

"Orange?" Leah guessed, reaching for a box of orange juice.

"Yes," you confirmed, smiling as you watched Leah return to the couch, settled in just like you with a blanket on her lap. She held up her sandwich to the camera.

"Shall we eat?"

An hour later, you were in bed, with Leah still on the screen, tucked under her own sheets. The time had flown by as Leah passionately tried to convince you why Arsenal was the top club in London.

"Uh, according to Google, the men's team hasn't won a league since 2004," you teased in a mocking tone, enjoying Leah's furrowed brow and her stumbling attempts to defend her team. "And the women's team... maybe I shouldn't say anything," you added innocently, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oi! You're being mean!" Leah protested. "I just won a cup, you know?"

Of course you knew, you had seen the post on Leah’s instagram. 

"Winning a cup isn't quite the same as winning a league," you continued to tease.

"What would you know about it? You only just learned the difference between a cup and a league because I explained it to you," Leah retorted, though she couldn't help but crack a smile. Despite her attempt to feign annoyance, she couldn't shake the sense of relief seeing you in a better mood than an hour ago "You're such a headache sometimes.”

"Sorry," you said between laughs. "Well, I'd better get some sleep. Got an early start tomorrow."

Leah's heart sank at the reminder of your upcoming semifinal match. She knew you had pushed yourself to the limit today, both physically and mentally.

"Thank you," you added, catching Leah off guard.

"Huh?" Leah's brow furrowed in confusion.

"For not bringing that up," you explained, your cheeks tinted with embarrassment. "I really appreciate it... I just needed to talk to someone. And you're easy to talk to."

Leah's heart skipped a beat. 

"It was nothing. You can talk to me anytime, about anything, including that," Leah assured, offering you a warm smile.

You fell silent for a moment, your eyes closed. Leah almost thought you had drifted off to sleep until she heard your voice again.

"I've never won a semifinal match on grass," you confessed. "I hate playing on grass. I can't move like I want to, can't slide, the ball bounces weird... It's a faster game, and I don't like it."

Leah struggled to find the right words to comfort you, though it seemed you weren't seeking comfort. You just needed to vocalize your thoughts.

"Well… get some good rest," you said "Speak to you tomorrow."

"Sleep well," Leah replied softly, just before you disappeared from her screen.

Leah hadn't been able to watch your game; she'd been tied up with a radio interview in the afternoon. Perhaps it was a good thing, sparing her from witnessing what felt like a complete disaster.

You were trailing 1-0 after losing the first set 6-2.

"Y/N, listen up," Lucas's voice echoed in your head as you wiped your face with your towel. He sounded both concerned and frustrated. "You've got to get up to the net. Focus and do it just like we practiced this morning.”

The tension intensified in the second set, now tied at 3-3. Each point intensified, increasing the pressure on your already fatigued body.

Struggling to steady your breath and calm your racing heart, you attempted to regain your composure. Lucas's instructions only seemed to agitate you further. Your serves lacked accuracy and power, the weight of exhaustion settled in your arms and legs.

With your breath hitching, you turned to Lucas "Gotta keep your mouth shut," you muttered to him, before returning to your position on the court.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to shut out your coach's voice which, instead of helping, was only adding to the overwhelming pressure and fear of failure creeping in. 

For a while, you felt completely disconnected from the game, just focusing on getting the ball back over the net and hoping for the best. Your ears felt muffled, you swung at balls in every direction, chasing after them when your legs allowed. It felt like your body was on autopilot.

When you finally regained control, you glanced at the scoreboard. It read 5-4, with the set tied at 30-30. Had you been playing for that long already?

"Just 2 more points and I'm out," you muttered to yourself, accepting the ball from the ball kid who hesitated a moment before returning to her position. Your emotional state must have caught her attention, you could feel tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall now. You couldn't afford to show weakness, not in front of them.

You adjusted your visor lower, not too concerned that it obstructed your view. After all, you were resigned to the inevitable defeat, recovering from this set, let alone the entire match, felt beyond your grasp.

Taking a deep breath, you served. Your opponent effortlessly returned the ball, and when you sent it back, she executed a perfect drop shot with spin. Despite your best efforts, your legs failed to get you to the net before the ball bounced a second time. 

All you could do was shake your head and chuckle at the brilliance of the shot. It was a damn good point.

The next rally was a bit longer. Determined to get at least a point, you decided to take a calculated risk. You placed the ball strategically close to the net, hoping to force your opponent into a difficult position. Yet, she managed to return the ball, forcing you to approach the net. Anticipating her move, you weren't surprised when the ball sailed over your head, landing just inside the line behind you.

And with that, it was over.

"Stay the hell away from me!" you shouted as Lucas and your physio entered the dressing room. You pointed your racket at him. "I don't want to hear a word from you!"

"Y/N, calm down," Lucas said, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I said no! Get out!" Tears streaked down your face, your voice raw with frustration. "You're the reason I lost!" you accused him, venom lacing your words as you vented on your racket, smashing it against the ground. "You told me to charge the net," you seethed, the anger palpable. "And what happens? She pulls off the damn shot of her life!"

Deep down, you knew it wasn't entirely his fault.

Lucas struggled to make out your words through your sobs and the racket's crashing impact. He signaled to your physio to grab your bag of remaining rackets before you decided to destroy another one.

"You need to cool off," your physio interjected, her tone firm.

"I need everyone to leave me the hell alone!" you yelled, throwing the shattered pieces of your racket against the wall in a burst of frustration.

Lucas shook his head and firmly guided you to sit on the bench. "Listen to me," he said,but you shook your head, lost in your thoughts. Frustrated, Lucas removed your visor and tossed it aside to get a clear view of your face, then gently tilted your chin to meet his eyes. "I said listen to me, kiddo."

You met his gaze, holding your breath. He looked visibly upset, his brow furrowed deeper than usual. Taking a moment to study him, you noticed the new wrinkles and more gray hairs, likely a result of the stress you often caused him.

"You played well today," he continued, his voice steady but firm, still holding your gaze. "But she played better. It's not a reflection of your performance, it's not about you playing badly. Can we improve? Absolutely. And we will, I promise you that. But for now, we need to stop."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"You're drained," your physio chimed in. "Your body can't handle more. Your muscles are exhausted."

"And your mind isn't much better. Since the first game you've been clouded," Lucas added, sighing. "We're heading back to England first thing tomorrow."

"Eastbourne?" you asked. 

Lucas shook his head. "No, you won't be playing in any more tournaments until Wimbledon. I've made it clear, you need to stop," he said firmly, now taking a seat beside you. "We're heading to London. Your psychologist is already there."

You had resisted having a psychologist travel with your team for months, but now circumstances were different.

"You'll see the psychologist tomorrow and then you'll rest for a few days. Your rackets are off-limits," your physio said, your bag slung over her shoulder as she tried to lighten the mood. "Seriously, no tennis, not even for fun," she added quickly, when she saw you about to protest. "We'll focus on light gym sessions, nothing more. These are your days off, you'll do anything but tennis."

You nodded, feeling somewhat scolded, almost like a child.

As the tension eased, the reality of a few days off in London began to sink in.

"Leah," you muttered. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" Lucas turned to you when he heard your voice. You hadn't realized you had spoken aloud.

"What time is our flight?"

[yeoobiii]

hello, can I ask you to write a mini story about Heeseung, where he teaches Y/n how to kiss 🙏🏻

⋆｡°✩ 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙

꩜ bestfriend!heeseung x gn!reader

꩜ best friends to lovers (?), first kisses

꩜ during a game of truth or dare you admit to all your friends for the first time that you've never been kissed and that you're frankly scared you'll mess up once the situation presents itself. Heeseung sees a perfect opportinity to help you out with that.

or: Heeseung teaches his best friend how to kiss and both of you get a bit lost in it

wc: 5.1k (this has gotten a bit longer than I intended to but honestly I just went with the flow and here we are.)

warnings: consumption of alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request, anon! btw requests are open if you'd like me to write something specific, I can't promise you anything on how quickly I'll get it done or if it's something I'm up to writing but like the link is in my bio :)

I hope you like this, anon!

There’s a few things none of your college friends knew about you. Despite knowing most of them for over three years now, some things just never came up naturally in conversation. Like the fact that you’ve not had your first kiss yet.

Why make a big deal out of it? You’ve also never been in love before. You didn’t feel the urge to inform everyone about these things, especially since most of your friends have a rather active dating life. You wanted to do these things at your own pace and didn’t want anyone involved in how you could “solve that problem”. You simply never intended on telling them. That is until last weekend happened and somehow your roommates were able to convince you to participate in a game of truth or dare.

It was a Thursday night and your roommate told you that they were having a few friends over for a cozy hang out and you were definitely down to chill with them because the both of you were friends with similar people and got along great in general, so having a few drinks with your friends in your dorm room seemed like a nice way to spend the evening.

And everything went smoothly enough, people were trickling in and out, the overall vibe very casual and comfortable. That is however until your friend Sofia suggested a game of truth or dare. To be fair, the overall intake of alcohol increased as the evening was progressing. It was almost inevitable that a suggestion like that would arouse sooner or later.

Before you even properly thought about it, you agreed to play and sat down in a circle with around five other tipsy college students.

Only later on did your brain register that Heeseung was one of the few chosen ones. For a split second you even wondered when he had arrived, but then you remembered that he greeted you with a friendly embrace when he first arrived about half an hour ago.

Technically, there was nothing wrong with him participating in the same game, the both of you were friends after all.

You met Heeseung pretty much the first day college started, you were both in stats together and happened to be sitting next to each other on the first day and it’s been like that ever since. However, you guys didn’t hit it off right away, you were friendly with each other, sure, but that mostly also out of convenience and occasionally you shared your notes with each other or he was making sure you didn’t fall asleep in class. It was all really casual and you would have considered him more like a colleague than a friend.

That was the case until one particular night that was destined to shape the kind of friendship the two of you would have with each other forever.

It was one of your first frat parties, the first semester was about to end and freshmen with various kinds of majors gathered to celebrate this collective milestone. Safe to say the liquor was being poured without much hesitation.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve run into Heeseung at a frat party either. Usually you’d shoot each other the occasional nod, acknowledging the other’s presence and moving on with your night and that’s all there was to it.

However, fate had other plans for this particular night.

At one point you excused yourself from the dance floor and went out the back door into the small garden to catch some fresh air, to your surprise not many people were out there, just you and a small group of three people maybe, who seemed to be passing around a blunt.

It took you a second glance to not only see your roommate but also Heeseung being part of that group, your roommate immediately greeting you enthusiastically upon locking eyes with you and beckoning for you to sit with them.

Shortly after you were sitting on your ass, your roommate's arm interlocked with yours, being pulled into the conversation easily.

Heeseung sent a brief smile of acknowledgement your way, before taking a hit from the joint. You returned his smile and also greeted the fourth person sitting with you who was eventually introduced as Heeseung’s friend Jake.

The joint was being passed around and eventually landed in your hand as well and afterwards the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. You joked and laughed along to whatever your company was saying but were also emerged in the more heated discussions.

At one point you were so deep into the conversation with Jake that you didn’t even realize your roommate getting up and going back inside and like ten minutes later, Jakes excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t seem to return anymore.

Which only left Heeseung and you.

Now, you’d be lying if you’d say being in such close proximity with a cute guy like Heeseung, all by yourselves in this somewhat intimate setting left you completely unaffected. You could feel yourself growing slightly flustered at nothing in particular, but you eventually catched yourself when Heeseung asked.

“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”

You fell into comfortable conversation after that and the longer the night went on, the more intense the topics got.

Whenever you think back to that one particular part of the evening it kinda feels like Heeseung and you were the only two things existing at the moment. Your brain didn’t register the people stepping in and out of the garden as the hours passed by. 

It was well past 3am when you checked your phone for the time since sitting down. You told Heeseung and he was just as shocked as you were at how quickly the time had passed, almost apologizing for taking up so much of your time, but you assured him you were enjoying yourself.

“It has been a while since I sat down like that and was able to talk to someone for hours about whatever popped into my head.” You admitted to him and he seemed satisfied with that judging by the smile that graced his lips.

“Me too.”

And you could swear by the way his eyes shimmered in that moment that there was something – whatever that may have been – between the both of you. Or maybe it was just the weed.

Regardless of what you guys shared was something different than what you thought it might have been, you grew close very quickly after that evening. Heeseung started to joke around with you in class, you eventually asked him for his number and social media, he started sending you memes occasionally, you started to hang out outside of class in your little friend group.

At one point you were convinced he was actively seeking you out at parties, because ever since that evening, you always bumped into each other sooner or later during the night.

And whatever there might have been that one evening, nothing came of it. However, it almost seemed like you grew closer to Heeseung than all your other friends. People in your friend group would casually call you best friends and the more time passed the more that statement became true.

All occurrences in the past have led you to playing truth or dare on a Thursday night on the floor of your dorm room with each other. And usually that wouldn’t be an issue. Heeseung and you have progressed to a stage in your friendship where you knew almost everything about each other; almost.

You could feel the alcohol running in your system and were sincerely hoping you wouldn’t say something that you’d eventually regret. You just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best.

For the most part the game did run smoothly, it was fun and you had a good time, the only dare you had to do was show them your most embarrassing dance move.

That is until your roommate asked you truth or dare.

“Truth” you chose this time

“What was your first kiss like and who was it with?”

The question in and of itself was harmless, it matched the vibe of the very easy going game they had going on, Nonetheless, you felt put on the spot and before you could stop yourself – because you can’t pull off a lie for the life of you – you blurt out that you’ve never been kissed.

None of your friends seemed super unfazed by this seeing how you’ve not dated one person since you started college but Sofia’s eyes grew double in size.

“Not even a peck on the lips or something?” she questioned a bit bewildered.

You just shook your head, seeing from the corner of your eye how your roommate gave Sofia a light nudge at even asking such a question.

You couldn’t help but risk a short glance at Heeseung and were almost a bit startled when his eyes met yours instantly. He sent you a soft smile upon locking eyes with you. Was that pity you saw in his eyes? Your stomach turned itself upside down.

You really wish you could say it didn’t bother you at all, that at the age of 21 you’ve never kissed someone before. You didn’t want it to be a big deal, it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

But you couldn’t help but think that you lacked something or were one step behind everyone. It felt like missing out on an experience that usually people have in their late teens and early twenties.

You don’t know why it hasn’t happened for you yet. It’s not even that you want it to be with someone really special, the moment has simply never presented itself before and you usually take this for what it is, but right now – Heeseung’s expression burned into your skull – you suddenly feel a bit small.

“It’s not just that” you eventually start to break the silence, not yet realizing that you were about to make this so much worse, “it’s also the fact that even if I’d want to kiss someone, I wouldn’t know how.”

It took your drunken mind a hot minute to catch up with what you just said. Something within you simply wanted to fill the silence but the fact that your filter was basically non-existent due to your tipsy state was not taken into consideration the moment you opened your mouth.

You mentally slapped yourself across the face, this time not having the courage to even glance into Heeseung’s direction.

“It’s not that hard, I can show you!” Your roommate offered enthusiastically, intentions pure.

Your face flushed at the suggestion and you cringed a bit, more out of embarrassment that you ended up in this situation in the first place than by the proposal itself.

“I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that suggestion.” You reply as nonchalantly as you can muster.

It’s not like the thought of asking a friend how to properly kiss has occurred to you before, but you could never quite bring yourself to get the request past your lips.

Your friends laugh at your response and easily move on with the conversation, taking the attention off of you. And that was that. Or at least that’s what you thought…

Two weeks later you enter the lecture hall and already spot Heeseung sitting in his usual spot and just like on autopilot you placed yourself next to him and the both of you exchanged greetings, just like you usually would. You’d also catch up about your weekends and shortly after the lecture started, taking up both of your attention.

It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that Heeseung poked your shoulder, extending his notebook to you, clearly wanting to show you something.

With blue ink he has written on the page:

“You want me to teach you?”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at what he meant.

You write down below him:

“Teach me what?” Confusion clear on your face as you watch him write something else.

“How to kiss”

You choked on your own spit.

Heeseung chuckled next to you. You could smack him across the head right now and you made a mental note to do just that once class is over.

Once you collected yourself, you took the pen from Heeseung and wrote three question marks under his proposal.

Why would he offer to teach you in the first place and out of all the places to suggest this to you he chose the middle of your lecture? Why?

He grinned at your question marks and if you didn’t know him any better you thought he was making fun of you. Had any other person done this to you, you’d probably actually have been hurt but first of all you still didn’t know if he was serious and second of all it was Heeseung. You knew him well enough to know he’d never use such a situation to make fun of you.

At that moment the professor seemed to notice your lack of attention and decided to ask you a question directly, returning your attention to the lecture where it stayed until you were dismissed.

The topic didn’t arise again between Heeseung and you even though the whole scenario didn’t seem to be able to leave your mind. At lunch you stared at Heesung making conversation with Jake over something you did not pay attention to, trying to figure him out.

In your head the puzzle pieces were just not fitting. Why would he suggest that all of a sudden? And why was it so hard for you to find an answer to his question…

After the whole frat party thing where you originally became friends, you had developed a small crush on Heeseung that gradually developed as time went by. It’s just after some time had passed and neither of you made any advances towards the other you eventually abandoned the idea of getting with Heeseung and were left with two options, getting over your crush or having to live with your unrequited feelings.

You chose the first option. It took you quite some time but you managed to accept the fact that Heeseung was simply a really good friend and your feelings faded as seasons changed.

You’d be lying saying they ever went away completely. There’s no reason denying that Heeseung was painfully your type and that no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like him like that anymore, you were attracted to him.

So, saying his suggestion to teach you how to kiss took you by surprise was the understatement of the century.

He probably just tried to be a good friend, right? Your roommate had suggested to teach you as well back then and there were no other intentions behind that, you were certain of that. So, why are you questioning Heeseung so much?

The topic didn’t come up again until one day you were hanging out in your dorm room. Just your roommate, Heeseung and yourself. It was often like that, sometimes Jake was also around but today it was just the three of you, that is at least until your roommate told you that they were heading out for dinner at around six and didn’t know when they’d be back.

Once they left, it was just Heeseung and you left.

Ever since he made his suggestion in class, you dreaded being alone with him, because you didn’t know if the topic would come up again or if you even wanted it to.

Heeseung was lying on your bed, his feet resting on your lap, while you were sitting at the end of the bed, back resting against the wall. Heeseung was scrolling through his phone when you decided to address the elephant in the room, because you figured if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, why shouldn’t you?

“Were you serious?” you simply said, not in any particular tone, just wanting to clear the haze in your head.

“Do you mean about the kissing thing?” He said without looking away from his face. The fact that he instantly knew what you were talking about indicated enough that he was aware it’s been eating at you.

You nod.

He locked his phone and threw it to the side, moving to sit up and also lean his back against the wall so that he can face you.

“I was and I still am.” He said, no trace of irony to be found.

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed like it bothered you that day. You know, when you told everyone how you’re scared you’d mess up if it comes down to the real thing?”

He teased at you being so open due to liquid courage, a small smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I was put on the spot and that was the only thing my brain provided at the moment to fill the silence.” You whine more frustrated with yourself than anyone else.

“So, you’re not worried about that?” He asked in return.

It was silent for a moment as you contemplated his question. You could easily dig yourself a way out of this by denying it, convincing him it was mainly the liquor talking. But you and Heeseung were never really the type to lie to each other.

“I am” you eventually admit, not meeting his eyes “I don’t know… It’s a bit silly but like I don’t know anyone my age who hasn’t been kissed before and I feel like it’s gonna be really awkward if the situation arises and I chicken out because I have no idea how to actually kiss someone.”

Heeseung listened to you and took your words in before answering.

“But you know, most first kisses are kinda awkward, I think.”

“Was your first kiss weird at all?” You asked him.

“Yeah, very.” He chuckled, sitting up more on the bed, “it was kinda too much of everything, too much teeth, too much spit, just entirely too much.”

He shuddered a bit, recollecting his first kiss.

“See? And I’d have no idea about any of that.” You said almost a bit frustrated.

“Then let me show you.” He insisted, your eyes meeting.

The way he says it so casually makes you want to rip your hair out.

“It’s just a kiss, right? And it’s me! You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” He said, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to ease your mind.

You look at him. He looks cozy in his oversized sweatshirt, his body language his usual relaxed self. It was still a bit fascinating how he could take this all so lightly but then again, it really was just a kiss for him.

And you know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kiss Heeseung. In fact, your head is screaming at you not to kiss him, because the risk of buried feelings resurfacing is simply too big. But you’d also be lying to yourself if you’d say you weren’t curious what his lips would feel like against yours and it were thoughts like this that’d mean certain doom for you sooner or later.

At your silence Heeseung added “Look, there’s really no pressure at all. I just thought maybe you’d like to know a few things that will help ease your mind, but of course you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And of course he would say that. Of course he’d go out of his way to reassure you that you’re safe with him and that he respected your choice no matter what. Maybe sharing your first kiss with Heeseung wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. At least like that you could make sure it’s someone who respects you and your boundaries, someone who makes sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what.

Maybe you could allow yourself this. Maybe having this as the memory of your first kiss wasn’t too bad.

“Like, right now?” You asked, which seemed to surprise Heeseung a little. He must have been convinced you’d turn him down.

“I mean, whenever is fine.” He responded suddenly you could see his cool demeanor crack, spotting a few hints of nervousness behind the cracks.

“I think, I’d be down.” You eventually say after contemplating for another minute.

“Really?” Heeseung’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

“Lee Heeseung, if you tell me right now that all of this has been a sick joke of yours after all, I’m ending this friendship right now.”

Panic flashed in his eyes.

“No! No, of course not. I was being serious. I just didn’t think…. I didn’t think you’d agree.” he admitted.

“So, how does this work?” you ask, not knowing where to even start.

“Oh, so you really want to do it right now, I see.” Heeseung mumbled more to himself than anyone in particular.

He scooted slightly closer to you.

“Well, first we gotta get closer.” He moves to sit next to you on the bed, shoulders touching.

You watch him, fascinated at how quickly his shyness has been replaced by his cool, nonchalant demeanours once again.

Heeseung and you have cuddled on more than one occasion before, but this feels different, you’re hyper aware of the place where his shoulder is bumping into yours and your tights are touching. This close, you could smell his cologne and shampoo.

“It’s not that complicated really” he starts explaining.

“If you want to just have a small, simple kiss. We’d both tilt our heads slightly as we get closer. Let me show you.”

He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. And you could swear there it was again. That shimmer from the first night the both of you actually talked to each other. You push that thought to the back of your head, the indications behind that too overwhelming for what’s about to happen right now.

His hand hovers above your cheek and you nod, allowing him to gently grab you by the jaw and tilt your head into one direction. The distance between his and your face shrinks as he does so, the pace of your heartbeat picking up in the process.

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke again.

“This is usually the point most people close their eyes and then you just… kiss.”

You close your eyes and a moment later you felt the sensation of Heeseung’s lips softly pressing against yours. All thoughts seem to leave your head the instant your lips touched, your heart basically beating out of your chest. It took you a moment to actually process the sensation and just as you were about to lose yourself in the feeling, Heeseung pulled back slightly.

“You know, this is the part where you kiss me back.” He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and maybe it was all in your head but you could swear his voice sounded different then just a second ago; a bit deeper, maybe even a bit flustered.

“My bad” you said, making Heeseung throw his head back with laughter, making you giggle as well.

It eases your anxiety a bit that even in stations like this, you were able to just laugh with him and easing the tension so easily.

“No worries” he laughed “Wanna try again?”

Again?

What did he mean again? Wasn’t that it?

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Okay, this time make sure to reciprocate the pressure I put against your lips, got it?”

“Got it” you kept your replies fairly short, afraid your voice would fail you otherwise.

Before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning in again.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You close your eyes and soon after you feel the now familiar pressure of his lips again, this time making sure to kiss him back. Without thinking about it, your hand found its way onto Heeseung’s neck, where your fingers absentmindedly played with hair as you were kissing him.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, you could feel Heeseung moving against you and followed his lead. It was easier to flow into the rhythm than you’d have thought, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

You were starting to feel lightheaded as he pulled away again and you had to resist the urge to chase after his lips.

“That was pretty good” he said, slightly out of breath, his pupils slightly dilated, his gaze fixed on your lips before he looked up at you.

“Also the thing you did with your hand, it seems like you’re a natural.” He chucked.

That’s when you saw your hand still resting against his neck, you instantly pulled it away once your brain caught up to what he was saying.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize…”

For a second there was a silence between the both of you; a silence that wasn’t quiet at all. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and neither could he. You could probably cut the tension with a knife.

“And what if… what if I’d want it to get more intense, you know?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows shot up.

“More intense?” He said, knowing very well what you were implying.

“I get how just kissing someone on the lips like that might not be that hard but what if– what if it goes further?”

Heeseung cleared his throat at your words and sat up straighter.

“You mean, if you would want to deepen the kiss?” He inquired.

You just nod, looking up at him, not failing to notice the light blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks, matching your own flusteredness.

“You want me to show you as well?”

You nod. Something about how his lips feel against yours was addictive, making you throw all your previous reservations out of the window.

“It’s kinda hard to explain though. I’d just have to show you?” He said, a bit unsure.

“That’s okay.”

“Okay so, basically you start with a kiss just like we shared before. You’ll just have to let me lead, okay?”

Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine, words refusing to leave your mouth so you just nod.

Soon enough, his lips were on yours again and even though you were only separated for a few minutes, you already started to miss the sensation and the tingle it made you feel in your stomach and chest. Naturally, your hand found its way back into his hair.

Suddenly, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and your heart took a leap. Instinctively, you opened your mouth for him. A few moments pass and he starts licking gently into your mouth.

You actively have to suppress sounds that were starting to build in the back of your throat at the sensation.

You could also feel one of his hands pressing against your waist while the other one was busy cupping your cheek.

Without much thinking you pressed forward, wanting to match his eagerness, which led to your teeth clinking against each other to which Heeseung pulled back slightly, chuckling.

“Take it slow, yeah?” He said, his face still incredibly close to yours.

As you nod at his remark he dives back in, taking you by surprise a bit. You were welcoming the touch of lips nonetheless.

This time you tried to dial down your eagerness and gently let his tongue guide yours, your insides turning into mush in the process.

Without thinking you slightly pulled at his hair, making him hum against your lips. 

He must like that? you think to yourself. 

Your stomach did a 360 at the thought of stirring him on further.

At this point your tongues were dancing with each other gently, no trance of any kind of hesitation left, the feeling leaving your head dizzy and your heart fluttering.

The way Heeseung kept pulling you in by your jaw and how his grip on your hip was getting tighter.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” He suddenly blurts out in between kisses and if you wouldn’t be so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours you’d stop to question his statement, but right now your heart simply leaped in your chest.

Overcome by a sudden wave of braveness, you swung one of your legs across his lap, straddling him. Heeseung looked at you starstruck, his hands instantly finding their way to your hips caressing them.

You took the time to look at him for a moment, his pupils were practically blown out and he looked so pretty with kiss swollen lips, glistering with both of your spit.

This was the first time you initiated the kiss, he easily reciprocated.

The kisses were sometimes still a bit sloppy but neither you nor Heeseung seemed to care, too lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies pressed against each other.

His hands were traveling up your sides and down your tights again and you were drowning in this feeling, of his hands touching you; exploring you. Soon enough, him trying to teach you how to kiss turned into a full on make out session.

That was until your roommate burst into the room without any announcement, making you jump off of Heeseung in an instant, cursing your body for immediately missing his closeness.

You both looked guilty and flustered as your roommate looked the both of you up and down.

“My bad, I’m just here to grab my charger. Continue with what you’ve been doing. It was only a matter of time until this happened anyway.”

They said and were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

You and Heeseung looked at each other for a second. Both of you burst into laughter shortly after.

“I think at some point we should really have a conversation about what exactly this is between us.” He gestured between the both of you after recovering from the sudden interruption.

And you were glad he brought it up because you think your heart would have been shattered into a hundred pieces if this didn’t have the same effect on him as it had on you; making your stomach flutter, turning your insides into mush, craving more.

“Better sooner than later, right?” you smile at him, hope filling your heart.

feel free to let me know your thoughts <3

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 5 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Not edited : 10k words !!!

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

Katsuki and his closest friend decided to make a tradition of camping during the summer. The group mainly just inviting themselves in on his hiking trips and making it a bigger deal. You remember at first that he looked at you for help, only finding that you were already discussing with Mina about sharing a tent. You and the girls all shared a tent that year, in celebration of graduation.

But now, only a year later, the tradition stuck. It was beginning of August and the group of you were all getting packed. Preparing to meet at the camping site at separate times due to schedule errors. It was a small campground in all, you only knew of it if a local told you, so you had no idea how Katsuki got on the good side of a local, but he did. It was barely in service, just enough for phone calls, but Katsuki had a strict no phone rule.

Despite him being a grump about everything, the campground is beautiful, a lake in the middle of it all but surrounded by many different hiking routes. You were excited to spend this camping trip next him rather than the girls, curious about all the ins-and-outs of this campground.

You often tagged along next to him for his hikes, it was the main way you guys spent your off days. He always needed something to do, and you wanted to be near him, so you followed.

It created countless stories between you two, either inside jokes about one falling over a tree or just the deep conversations you shared as you hiked the trail.

After the hour drive out of the city, you were met with the lush campgrounds. It was just as breathtaking as last year. Just being in view of it, lifted a weight off your shoulders. It felt like you could breathe better overall.

The two of you were the first ones there. Arriving just before sunset. The rest of the group said they'd be here soon. You attempted to convince Katsuki to wait so you could share a ride with Kirishima and Mina, but he was too impatient.

Once your foot was out of the car, Katsuki started handing you things to set up. Giving you some of the tents he brought and to place them near the already made fire pit. He brought most of the camping supplies for the group, everyone else would just have to bring the things that they wanted.

You decided to wait to put up the tents until others got here, unsure of the pairing. So you and Katsuki got to work on putting up the fold up tables and some chairs out. Grabbing the ice chest filled of your food and setting it near the camp fire, which Katsuki quickly had going. Thankfully the campsite sold firewood, so you had no worries of running out.

The rumble of Kirishima's super duty truck made you turn you're head. Soon enough Mina barreled out of the truck and came running to you.

"Hi," she squeeze you into a hug, "Haven't seen you since the party!" You squeezed her back, it has been a while since you've seen her, the party was almost a month ago.

"Of course you guys show up after we finish setting everything up," Katsuki grumbled, dragging his feet as he walked to Kirishima's truck to help grab ice chests.

Kirishima gave a cheeky smile, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry man, I'm free to help now though."

"Whatever," Katsuki scoffed.

Kirishima gave you a wave, "Anything I can help with?"

You looked around, finally pushing Mina away from the hug, "We haven't set up any tents, so maybe that? I just don't know who's sharing and stuff yet."

Kirishima and Mina shared a quick glance, turning a shy red in their cheeks. "Well," Mina dragged out, "E and I are sharing, Bakugo and you are sharing, so we can start there."

"Wait," you paused them confused, embarrassed about sharing a tent with Katsuki.

"Huh?" Kirishima turned towards the tents laying on the ground, "Denki and Sero can share, I doubt they mind. They can set up another if hey have that big of an issue."

"We only packed three air mattresses," you pointed out.

"They've shared a bed before, it's fine. They're bros," Kirishima shrugged. He wasn't getting the point. You looked to find were Katsuki went and saw him grabbing stuff from Kirishima's truck, not having heard a lick of the conversation.

By the time you look back over to Kirishima, him and Mina were already off to the side of the campsite and setting up their tent. Mina struggling to stand as she laughed, hitting Kirishima with the tent pole constantly.

It was enduring to see them mess around, especially since they were finally getting ahold of their relationship. Both of them have been struggling with a label since the second year.

You looked back at Katsuki, who grabbed all he needed from the truck and was now crouched and working on the fire again. You walked over to stand next to him, bumping his shoulder lightly with your hip to get his attention, "We needa set up our tent."

He scrunched his eye brows, looking over to were the tent were then to were Kirishima was. "They sharing?" he nodded his head in their direction. You hummed, rocking on the ball of your feet, stuffing your hands in your pockets. This felt odd.

" Okay," he stood up, brushing the remains of wood of his hands. You stepped away slightly, giving him room to stand without bumping into you. "Where do ya' want it?"

You looked around the campsite. It was quite big, plenty of space for anything. Trees lined the dirt center that was meant for parking cars and the rest of the camping supplies. Where the trees lined the dirt, there was plenty of open grass plots for a tent. Kirishima and Mina already taking one of the grass plots near the cars. So you walked to the other side, leaving the ones in the middle for the boys to chose.

Katsuki picked up the tent and followed you, dropping the tent bag where you stopped. It was quite the distance from the cars so you would have to move the car briefly so you could blow up the air mattress.

You went to unzip the bag, handing Katsuki the poles to connect together while you pulled out the actual tent to space out. Switching jobs so he could anker it to the ground. You quickly saw why Mina was laughing so hard. The pole you were connecting broke apart in one spot and swung to hit Katsuki in the back of the head.

He wiped his head around, "The fuck?" he barked at you. You hunched over laughing, his face was so mad, it was as if you took a dogs bone. "Asshat," he grumbled, turning to finish the last anker. Before snatching the pole from your hand and threading it through the tent. Ordering you to help connect it on the other side despite you still laughing slightly at him.

The two of you did the other side without much issue, putting the rain cover up as well as threading the pole over the door to keep it steady. He quickly trudged off to bring the car. Mina joining your side as you two watched Katsuki set up the air mattress. "I hate tents," she grumbled.

You looked at her tent, seeing it messily set up, all their stuff being thrown in as well, fully set up. "Why?" you asked.

"Can't really make noise if y'know what I mean," she wiggled her brows, nudging her arm into yours.

"I better not hear that," you made a face of disgust.

"Same to you," Mina laughed, "Though I am curious as t-"

"Don't," you raised your hand to stop her, "I don't even want to know."

Katsuki called you over to the tent, currently fighting with the air mattress.

"What even happened?" you laughed the second you peaked inside the tent, he was currently struggling to get the air pump connected to the air mattress.

"Can't find the hole," he sighed frustrated.

Mina erupted into laughter, "That's what she said!"

You stifled a laugh, moving Katsuki to the side as you pushed the mattress into a better angle. Getting the mattress blown up easily. Katsuki getting out of the tent to place the bedding and your guys stuff in the tent to the side. It was a large tent, plenty of space for you to stand up straight, Katsuki only had to slouch slightly to not hit his head in the middle.

He moved the car and left you to set up the bedding once the mattress was fully inflated it. Knowing it go cold at night you threw a large open sleeping bag over the top of the mattress to sleep on top of, knowing that the air mattress would be insanely cold otherwise. Just throwing your pillows at the end of the bed and then half-assly throwing heavy blankets on top before shuffling out of the tent, hearing Sero and Denki pull up, music blasting.

Katsuki was instantly barking orders at them.

"Chill man, we brought the booze," Denki laughed, opening the truck and pulling out a cooler, Sero doing the same.

"How fucking much are you planning to drink?" Katsuki went wide eyed at the two full coolers of booze.

"We'll probably have to buy more," Sero shrugged.

"Huh? How?" Katsuki looked dumb founded.

"I mean," Sero pointed and count the group, "there six of us, five of us wanting to get drunk nightly this weekend. We all need to drink a lot to get drunk as well."

Katsuki whiped his head to you, "You drinkin'?"

You shrugged, "I mean yeah- wait Sero?"

"Yeah?" he looked up from where he was fishing a beer out of the cooler.

"Did you pack my wine?" you stepped closer to him.

"In the car," he nodded towards the car. You quickly skipping over and grabbing a bottle to drink for the night. Katsuki was busy yelling at everyone to watch how much they drunk, they still had work monday.

Mina groaned at him, lulling her head over to you, "Can you get the stick out of his ass? He's acting like he hasn't been laid in years."

Your face flushed but you laughed to cover it, "I think it's too far up there for me to help."

"Fuck off," he barked at the two of you, causing you to laugh harder.

The group was standing around the fire, Katsuki making sure it stayed steady. Once you got the wine bottle open you joined them, taking the seat next to Katsuki, stretching your legs onto his arm rest of the chair, knowing he wouldn't mind.

"Y'know, sometimes I forget you two are dating," Denki point at finger between you and Katsuki, that same hand also bringing a beer up to his mouth to take a swig. "I only remember when you do shit like that," he gestured to your legs.

"What do you mean?" you tilted your head.

"Well he'd kill anyone else for that," Denki shrugged.

"Ah yes, you bagged quite a man, one that'd kill some one from breathing wrong," Mina laughed at you.

You flushed, embarrassed that even the ones closest to you barely saw the relationship. You looked over to see how Katsuki took the joke, seeing him staring intently at the fire. Poking at it with a fire stick.

"What's our plan for tomorrow?" you looked around the group, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. Wanting to skip past any talk about your relationship.

"I'm going for a hike," Katsuki said, setting down the fire stick and leaning into his chair, arms cross.

"Okay," you dragged out, seeing if anyone would add their plans. When no one added you continued, "So Kats and I are going for a hike in the morning, then we'll be back and we can all go to the lake?" you suggested.

"Sounds good, I would go with but I need sleep, works been rough," Kirishima sent an apology to Katsuki, only to be shrugged off.

"Have you been taking better care of your support gear?" you nagged at him, annoyed about the amount of times you've fixed it just this month.

"Yes mom," he groaned.

"Oh shut your mouth," you scolded. The group laughed at your bickering with Kirishima.

The group quickly fell into an banter, all thankful they got the weekend off from hero work. Glad they could escape out of the city. It was refreshing. The view of the camp ground and their faces. They looked a least a little more carefree than normal. Tonight was the calm of the camping trip, tomorrow night would be all chatter and drunk games. It was only Friday night and you guys would be staying till Sunday, with work on Monday. It was a short get away but it was all the agencies could agree too. Everyone already ate their meals during the drive here, so all that was to do was set up.

By the time the fire was out, Sero and Denki still hadn't put their tent up. They'd have to do it drunk and in the dark. Katsuki was already well past tired and demanded to get up early, so you couldn't join them. So you had Kirishima promise to watch for them.

With the rest of the group taken care of, you and Katsuki walked off into your tent. Well he walked, you stumbled and grabbed onto his arm, drunk from drinking the whole wine bottle. He unzipped the door of the tent, holding it open for you and closing it behind himself.

"What side y'want?" Katsuki huffed, reaching for his backpack.

You looked at the options for a moment, "The one near the tent wall, I don't wanna be by the door."

"Ight," he was still digging through his bag. You walked over to your side, just about to sit down before he yelled at you, "The fuck y'doing? Change your clothes, I don't want our bed to smell like wine and campfire."

"But you literally smell like a campfire," you pointed out, "And I don't smell like wine."

"I saw you spill it over yourself, and I don't care. Change," he ordered.

"How am I supposed to change with you in here," you grumbled back at him.

"I'll turn around and so will you," he pointed out blandly.

So after grabbing your pjs, you both turned around and changed. You felt the urge to turn and catch a look but you knew that it'd be all you thought of. You laughed slightly to yourself, amused that you've been dating for three years but have yet to change near each other.

"What?"

Your head almost spun to look at him, but you remembered before you did, "Nothin."

"Why'd you laugh?" he asked differently.

You sighed, " Just the fact we are turned away from each other right now," you shrugged your pj shirt over your head, unhooking your bra from underneath it, just in case.

"Want to watch me get naked?" he teased.

A hot wave flashed through you, "Shuddup," you coughed out after a moment. Quickly putting on your sleep shorts. "You done yet?"

"Have been for a minute," he replied. With the okay to turn around, you quickly climbed into bed. Only then did it sink in that you'd be sharing a bed for the first time. Seeing him lift the covers and joined you excited you. It was a first, and it was thrilling, even if it was just sleep.

"Y'know," you moved closer to where he got comfortable, "We've never shared a bed."

"I'm aware," he peered down at you. He had his head rested on the pillow, arms above his head as he laid on his hands.

"It's weird," you whispered, like you were admitting a secret. You moved yourself to lay onto your stomach, propping yourself up with your arms.

"How?" he asked softly, matching your tone. He adjusted himself, getting into a better position to look at you. Even in the dark, you could see his vibrant red eyes peering at you.

"Like," you looked away from him, overwhelm, picking at the blanket that was over your shoulders, "Feels different, we live together but we don't share a bed, but now we are. Feels like a new step without the other foundations in a way."

"What other foundations would we need?"

"Well none I guess, but we didn't choose this one fully," you shrugged.

"I knew we were going to share, did you not?" he nudged your calf with his leg, grabbing your attention.

"Not really, I'm happy we are, just," you paused, "I don't know."

You heard Denki and Sero laughing from their tent, clearly in a struggle to set it up.

"I get it," Katsuki said after a moment, "Feels like we are doing things in a weird order."

"Yeah," you yawned.

"Go to bed," he order softly.

"Goodnight," you muttered, plopping your head onto your pillow.

"Night."

---

Katsuki woke you up just before sunrise, slightly shaking your arm till you woke up. He already has his hiking bag made, filled with stuff for the both of you. Shoving you a granola bar and a protein shake before he left you to change.

After slipping into some pants, aware of the brisk mornings. Katsuki having warned you while you packed. With your legs warm, you threw on a tank-top with a hoodie over it. Tying your shoes before fighting your way out of the tent, meeting Katsuki at the end of the campsite road.

"Finally," he immediately stepped off, following the tree line. Having you jog slightly to catch up to him.

"Do you sleep okay?" you questioned, worried you kicked him or something in your sleep.

"Yeah," he replied. Well, at least he didn't sleep bad. "You?" he looked over at you briefly, before looking back up, turning into a trail that went out of the main camping area.

"Yep, best in a while actually," you followed him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, trailing through the forest. The trail seemed like it faded in and out, clearly not used often enough to keep a path.

Leaves brushed past your pants as you walked through, following each step he made, keeping up with his steady pace. He often looked back to make sure you were still behind him before he made a turn slightly off path, getting yourselves deeper into the forest. It was a steady up hill for the most part, up until you hit a rocky area with a steady climb.

Katsuki easily jumped up the first step, even with it at waist height, reaching down a hand to help pull you up. He let you walk in front of him from then on, just pointing you towards where to go. Letting you climb up the slight rocks, prepared to catch you if you fell, even if it wasn't higher than five or so feet. Soon enough you were standing taller than the rest of the camp, being able to see the lake and even our campsite from the top of the rocks you climb.

"This is," you let out a breath, "wow."

"See, if you didn't get wasted last time I could of shown you then," he reminded.

You ignored him, watching how the sky was slowly gaining color from the sunrise, a faint pink and orange hue barely kissy the horizon.

"This isn't even the best part," he tugged on your arm, lightly dragging you away from the cliff edge. He went in the opposite direction from the cliff, walking through the small forest that coated the top of the rocky mountain you were on. He held unto your hand until you heard the faint noise of running water. Pulling you in front of him as he guided you to the small pond that ran off the cliff edge and into a small creek.

"Why didn't you drag me with last time," you slapped his arm lightly, walking over to the water, crouching down to feel the water. It was freezing.

"You were bitchin'," he shrugged. Setting his backpack down near a tree.

You started untying your shoes, taking them off along with your socks. On a whim deciding to unbutton your pants.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. You turned your head toward him, his face was flushed as he looked away.

"I'm getting in," you shrugged.

"You're wearing a swimsuit?" he looked back over, still red in the face.

"Nah," you pushed your pants down, "I just wear my underwear, it'll dry."

"It's fucking freezing in that water," he pointed out, looking away once again.

"Scared to join?" you teased, folding your pants and setting them on top of your shoes, doing the same with your hoodie and tank top.

"Oh fuck you," he groaned. Not wanting to back out on a challenge, he tugged his shirt and pants off quickly, leaving them on a rock near his shoes. Joining you just as you started stepping into the water.

You flinched at the temperature but forced yourself to fully get in, letting the water reach your shoulders. Hair tied up to stay dry. Katsuki was by your side after a minute.

It was funny to think that last night you changed facing away from each other, but now you were only clad in underwear and in a random pond. It wasn't a first to be around each other in underwear, you've lived together for a little over a year after all.

"Water's not too bad," you commented.

He shot you a glare, "I hate the cold."

"Ice baths are good for you though, lots of health benefits," you chimed, knowing he hated being told something he hated was good.

"Fuck em," he grunted. He let his face fall into a pout as he stared at the water as if it was his enemy. His arms crossed to hold in any warmth. Butterflies filled your stomach as you looked over his feature. He was made but he looked soft. The worries of the hero world gone, if only for a moment. He looked back up at you, "What?" he bit out.

"Nothin'," you shook your head, "Cold?"

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes.

You stepped closer to him, having stuck at arms length from him. "Hug?" you offered.

"How will that help?" he coughed.

"I don't know, body heat?" you stepped closer.

"But you're fucking freezing too," he pointed out.

"Come on, Kats," you held out your arms for him. With a pout of your lip, he groaned and stepped into your arms. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you towards him. "See, not to bad," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He nudged his head into your shoulder, "Shuddup." The tips of his ears stayed red from his blush, the heat from his face warming your neck. "Your warm," he muttered, pulling you impossibly closer, his watch scratching your back lightly.

You scratched at his hair, letting your hands play with the strands at the nape of his neck as you looked around. Soaking in the moment. The sky was slowly waking up, the orange and pinks that were barely visible before, took up the entire sky. A steady blue warming in as well. Katsuki let his shoulders sag into your touch as he pulled his face away, catching your attention.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled, embarrassed as he let his eyes track over your face.

"What's up with you?" you laughed shyly, "All boyfriendy recently."

"Just getting used to things more I guess," his voice was soft, but rough from his daily screaming matches with the boys.

"Took three years?" you pointed out. Watching his eyes as he looked over yours.

"You said I can do what I want right?" he asked, referencing your words from the other week when he kissed you for the first time since graduation.

You flushed, "I did."

He looked over your features again before his eyes fell to your lips. Letting his hand unhook from your waist and gently cup your cheek, just as it had that night. He admired your features for a while, letting his thumb barely trace your bottom lip before he leaned in himself. Letting himself fall into the kiss.

You tilted you head and pushed into your toes, letting yourself get impossible closer to him. Letting your body curve into his, fit alongside his perfectly. You let your hands hold unto his hair, pushing him deeper into him. Grasping onto his hair when you felt his tongue trail alongside your bottom lip. You're mouth falling open, begging him to continue the kiss.

Whining when he pulled away, out of breath and eyes lidded. "You're fine with this?" he asked hoarsely brows still furrowed from how he kissed you.

You just tugged him closer to you in response, locking your lips against his. Luckily, he quickly ran his tongue over your lip again, letting it slide into your mouth slowly. The kiss left a buzz going through your body, making your fingers twitch tighter into his hair, wanting nothing but more. Air could wait. You let your tongue fight with his for a moment, playfully toying with the new feeling of kissing him like this, before you gave in, letting him take over the kiss completely.

His hand dropped away from your face, falling back to your hip and he pulled you closer, fully into him. Groaning lowly when your thigh hit him, it falling between his legs.

The groan snapped you into reality. You were making out with Katsuki, and you felt him against your thigh. Clearly enjoying it. Just in attempt to see his reaction, you move your thigh slightly, making another groan fall from his lips and into your mouth before he pulled away from the kiss. Lazily look down at you, "We should probably stop before we.." he trailed off, his eyes falling on your lips again.

"Yeah," you nodded in agreement, looking down at his lips, plump and rosy from kissing.

Both of you sat in a daze of staring at each other, only breaking out of it when you heard faint talking in the distance.

You quickly scrambled off each other and to your clothes. Throwing them on as quickly as possible, wringing out as much water as possible beforehand. You did not want to be caught half naked in a random pond. It would wreck his hero image.

With clothes thrown on you quickly walked back towards camp, running into the couple you heard from the pond on your way down. Stopping when they asked for a picture with Katsuki. Which he was in a good enough mood to agree to.

After getting out of earshot, you started giggling to yourself. "We are so lucky we heard them."

He laughed breathlessly near you, "Yeah, would of gotten an exclusive photo otherwise."

"Your fan girls would have my head instantly," you added.

"You'd kick their ass."

You smiled at his faith in you, "Thank you, that's what I've been saying. Mei thinks I'm crazy."

After only a few tumbles, you were back at the campsite, letting the laughter from the previous conversation flow out of you. Everyone was awake when you got back. All prepared to head to the lake.

"You guys were out for a while," Mina commented, a hinting tone to her voice, "Why are your clothes wet?"

You looked down at your hoodie, the fabric of your bra having soaked the front of your shirt, just as your underwear soaked your pants. Katsuki was in the same boat.

"I took a dive in the water for a moment," you shrugged, "I'm going to put on a swimsuit, we can head out after."

And you did just that, Katsuki doing the same just after you.

You met up at Mina's side, she was in the middle of teasing Denki for how he applied sunblock.

She eyed you, "So, you guys were gone for a whileee."

"Yeah? We went on a hike?" you asked back, confused at her tone.

"You left at 6, it almost 10," she pointed out. You paled at the realization.

"It was a long walk," you defended.

Denki snorted, "Yeah a long 'walk'," he did air quotes.

Lucky enough, Katsuki was in time to hear that comment and swatted him upside the head. Denki squawking at him.

---

The lake was calm, water a perfect temperature along with the weather. Only a few other campers were at the lake but they were a good distance away. You would be able to mess around with your group without having to worry about being too loud or press getting photos.

You guys had set out chairs next the shore and some coolers, one filled with alcohol and the other having food. When the sunblock was all applied and dried, you and Mina instantly ran in. Her challenging you to a race and easily beating you.

"Mina!" you heard Kirishima shout before he tackled Mina into the water. You stepped back from the two, seeing them actual start to drown each other.

"Hey."

You squeaked, scared of being dunked. Turning to see Sero smirking at you.

"Scared of some water?" he teased.

"I'm scared of being drowned by a pro hero, yes," you turned back to watch Mina and Kirishima start to calm down. Unfortunately seeing them start making lovey eyes and leaning in.

"I'm so thankful you and Bakugo don't do that," Sero cringed, turning away from the site.

Memories from the pond flashed through your mind, shooting a quick glance at Katsuki, who was leaned back in a foldable chair. Legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. Head fully leaded back and face the sky, with a hat blocking his fat from the sun.

"I doubt me and him would ever do that," you agreed, shaking your eyes off of Katsuki.

"You guys were gone for a while this morning," he elbowed you.

You scoffed, "It's a long walk."

"Yeah sure," he laughed, "At least we didn't have to hear it."

"Nothing happened," you shoved him into the water.

Sero started making kissing noises.

"Shut up!" you hushed, looking to see if Katsuki heard. When you aw him lift his hat slightly to peak at you, you jumped Sero. Submerging him under water as you smiled back at Katsuki.

Once he put his hat back over his head you let Sero go.

"I know I'm a hero and everything but damn your strong," Sero laughed, coughing some water out.

"Don't cross me," you jokingly threatened.

"You guys seem to be doing better though, he didn't throw your shoes off his chair last night," Sero commented, voice low so others didn't hear, "Was he just off that party?"

"No, he just doesn't like his hands touched for too long," you shrugged, "He always shakes my hands off after a couple minutes."

Sero hummed, "Well I'm getting a beer, want any?"

"Nah, I'll drink the rest of my wine tonight though," you twisted in the water, letting the water swish near you.

Soon you heard Mina start giggling, so you turned and saw her and Kirishima obviously flirting. "Guys!" faked throwing up, "Get a room."

Mina groaned, "You're just like Bakugo," she stuck her tongue out at you, you doing the same.

Before you saw anything more you decided to bug Katsuki, walking out of the water and grabbing a towel to wrap around you shoulders before walking to his seat. With the new shade you moved his hat off his face.

"Hi," you smiled down at him, happy to be here.

"Hey," he returned, "Why ain't you in the water?"

"Missed you," you shrugged, "you should join us."

He hummed, looks around the lake. "We brought the paddle board right?"

"I think Kiri set it up," you looked around for it, seeing it leaned against the picnic table, "Yeah he brought it."

Katsuki stood up, stretching slightly before moving over to it. You had trouble keeping your eyes off the way his back rippled with each movement. He grabbed the paddle board and placed it in the water, "Hold it will ya?" he gave you the foot strap, making you keep it from going too far away as he walked to grab some fishing stuff.

It was small hobby he hardly got to do, but he loved it all the same. Once he grabbed a fishing pole and the right bait he walked back over to you. Setting his stuff down to the said as he grabbed the foot strap from you.

"Get on," he directed, holding the board still. Unaware you were going with you quickly put your towel down before carefully getting on, keeping yourself near the front so he had room on the back.

He handed you the paddle and his fishing gear before he joined you on the board. Taking the paddle from off your lap and pushing you guys off the shore and into the waters.

"Don't fuck on that paddle board! I want to use it later," Denki shouted from his spot next to Sero.

"Shut your damn mouth," Katsuki wacked him with the paddle once close enough.

Denki and Sero crackled out a laugh as Katsuki paddled away from them, further out into the lake.

He was mumbling under his breath. Before he could let it consume his thoughts more you spoke out, "It's beautiful here."

You looked around the lake, it was surrounded by greenery, cliff formations closing the lake in, making it feel closed off from the rest of the world. It was peaceful, Cottonwood trees shedding and filling the air with small puffs of white cotton, it looked like a dream.

"Yeah, last year you were too drunk to remember anything," he poked. Reminding you of how last year you were stumbling around half the time. You hardly remembered that trip, just the bruises that followed when you got back. You had countless scratches covering every inch of you.

You turned to shoot his a glare, seeing him looking amused at your frustration. "Well at least I had fun, you had a stick too far up your ass to have any," you shot back.

He glared at you for a second before letting his face rest again, paddling you guys into a small cove, good for fishing and still in sight of your group. Slowly you turned to face him, careful not to shake the board much.

Katsuki was tying on a hook, looking down intently at the knot. His brows furrowed as he focused. You watched as he tied it off and attached some bait before throwing it in.

Only then did he look at you, finally feeling your eyes on him. "What?"

"Just funny watching the symbol of strength tie a knot," you grinned.

He rolled his eyes. Silence took over for a moment, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "It's still all crazy to me."

"What is?" you shuffled slightly, leaning back on your hands rather then having your back hunched.

"Everything," he looked around, "Like, I really am number two."

"Yeah, you are the shit," you joked.

He shot you a look, sighing, "Not even just that, I'm second and I'm fine with it. Obviously I'll beat Deku soon, but for now I'm content."

Feeling the shift of the conversation, you joined in, "Well you've grown up a lot, you're not who you used to be in middle school anymore."

"It's weird," he looked down. Playing with the string at the end of the pole. "So much has changed but so little at the same time. I've become a top pro hero but I'm still closest to our class in UA."

"Yeah," you nodded along, watching how the sun hit his hair, " I mean, I'm in the top of my business yet I'm still dating you," you teased wanting to lift some weight from the conversation.

He looked up at you, keeping his head down, "No idea why you are. Our relationship is one of the things that haven't changed at all."

"Which is good," you finished for him.

"I mean at all," he added on, "We haven't changed our relationship since second year."

"That's not true," you frowned at him, "We've grown closer, we live together now, we go on dates," you started to list.

"You know that wasn't what I meant," he raised his head, moving to reel in the fishing pole, no longer in the mood for it. Connecting it to the side of the paddle board, securing it so he didn't have to worry about it. Same with the paddle, letting you guys drift with the wind.

"Then what do you mean?" you were trying to get him to say it. He's been hinting at it for ages but hasn't actually said it.

He raised an eyebrow at you, "Need me to spell it out?

"Yes actually."

"We've kissed five times in the total of three years, having know each other since we were fuckin' five," he explained.

"Yeah and?" you pushed.

"E' and Mina have been dating for all of three weeks officially and have probably done everything under the sun," he stated.

"What does that have to do with us?"

"It's just my fault, you've apparently have been wanting to and I've been holding you back," he confessed, shame filling his eyes as he looked at you.

"I'm fine just with you by my side," you answered, leaning up to grab his hands. A spark shooting out before you could.

"Fuck sorry," he dipped his hands in the water, then turned his watch on and his quirk off.

"Have you figured out why you spark?" you wondered, looking at his hands.

He looked back up at you, his eyes clearly searching for a way out of the conversation. His quirk activating clearly setting him far from the idea of talking about it anymore. "I just was trying to keep the watch off to test it earlier," he shrugged.

"No," you shook your head, " I meant overall."

Katsuki paused, looking back down at his hand. You wanted to comfort him, he was obviously not willing to talk about his quirk but you wanted him to confined in you.

Before you could cut in, his hands shot out and grabbed you by your knees, pulling you into him. He smirked at you, wearing his classic grin he wore in battle. The one that made you weak. Your hands flew to his chest to keep balance. "What are you doing?" you squeaked.

Instead of giving an answer he leaned down and crushed your lips in a kiss.

In just the span of a month, you doubled your kiss count with him, and made out with him.

You held your hands steady on his shoulders, letting yourself fall into the kiss, bones melting into his hold as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

A gasp left your lips as you tied to deepen the kiss, pushing yourself more unto him.

Unfortunately in the process of doing that, you pushed both him and yourself off the paddle board. Breaking apart before you hit the water.

You came back up laughing together.

---

Everyone only got tired of the lake way into the afternoon. Finally decided to go back for dinner. Which would take a while to set up as it is. Especially with Katsuki wanting to cook a steak on the fire. While he seasoned the steak he left Kirishima to start the fire.

You took your wine out of the cooler, quickly taking the cork out. Everyone, minus Katsuki, was well over tipsy. Having been drinking since the start of the day, so you needed to catch up.

Mina stepped to your side as you poured yourself a cup. "So," she swayed, "Bakugo's a lot calmer today than yesterday."

"Okay?" you focused on how much wine you poured yourself, having a third of your wine in one cup.

"And I saw you two on the paddle board," she hinted.

"Okay?" you took a sip of your wine, finally looking at her.

"Saw you kiss too," she stated.

You flushed, "What are you getting at?"

"Did you guys do it in the forest?" Mina asked excited.

"What?" you coughed, "No!"

"Come on, you can tell me," she pleaded, "Me and E have a bet going."

"We did not have," you lowered your voice, "sex in the forest."

She huffed, "Lame, did you at least do something?"

"Mina," you groaned, embaressed.

"You did!" Mina squealed, "What did you do?"

Katsuki heard the squeal, being only ten or so feet away, and turned his head, "You did what?"

You lost all color in your face, throat going dry. He only just started kissing you. You didn't know how'd he react you telling Mina of all people. You didn't even know if Katsuki talked about that stuff to other people, he didn't even talk about it with you.

"She's just telling me what you guys did in the forest," Mina teased.

Katsuki face flushed red.

"I didn't tell her anything!" you cut in, "She's just making stories to herself."

"Get your nose out of it racoon eyes," Katsuki spat.

You were relived he wasn't mad at you. You didn't know how you would handle that.

Picking up your cup, you decided to drown out the thought with some more alcohol. Switching to listen to the boys banter about who could get a brand and be plain faced during it. Clearly it wasn't wise to keep them near the fire. Deciding to no longer watch that shit show, which Mina joined to egg them on, you walked up to Katsuki. He was still seasoning the steaks, eyes focused as he carefully chose what to add. You stood being him, uttering a small hi before you raised on your tip-toes and rested your chin on his shoulder. Getting his view of the steak.

"Is Mina giving you a rough time?" he mumbled, voice low so the others wouldn't hear.

"Not really," you wrapped your arms around his waist, "she just really thinks we had sex."

He scoffed but didn't add anymore, he just let you watch him. Only pulling away when it was time to put the steak on the fire pit, having them hover on a small grate to cook fully.

---

You stared up fascinated by the stars, they covered the entire span of the sky. With the pollution in the city, you hardly saw the stars unless you were out in the mountains like you were now. It was a breath of fresh air in so many ways. It calmed your soul.

Every part of this camping trip did. You and Katsuki got time together, away from the stress of the world, and you got to spend it surround by your closest friends. They were always lively but you could tell they were even more alive with this trip. It's been the thing you guys talked about all summer. Planning every moment so you could live it up to the fullest. Yet, typical to the group, you guys didn't follow a single plan. The only plan you did follow was getting drunk each night. The group will have downed every last drink in the cooler by the end of tonight.

You looked back down towards the group, they were laughing at the old stories they shared from high school. It was a bond you didn't have with them. After the first year, you were back to a somewhat normal high school experience. And you'd rather forget that year, everything went horribly. You looked at the back of Katsuki's head, watching as he shook his head at what Sero said. You don't think you'd ever forget how you had smeared Katsuki's own blood on his face, trying to keep him with you. Fighting to stop his blood from flowing out of him before he pulled your hands up to his face weakly.

Tears blurred the look on his face, and you hated that you might of forgot his face. Might of had your last moments with his face foggy with tears. It ate you up inside.

The wasn't the only time you've seen him like that, and it wouldn't be the last, but it definitely set a dark tone for each day he left for work. Worried he wouldn't come back that same night. Wouldn't be there to yell at you for reading too much and not there to complain about your shows. The fact that you'd have to eat his last premade meals without him.

You worried about your friends too. You glanced at Mina. There was a day where each of your friends almost died. Mina have burned her own skin off with her quirk. It was a fate that shattered your heart, yet it happened in the hero world all too often. Denki constantly fried his own brain within an inch of life and Kirishima has broken pieces of his skin off after rough villain encounters. Hell, even Sero was almost strangled with his quirk.

Dark memories flooded your brain. Each day they sacrificed themselves yet they were sitting here without a care in the world as they sipped on their drinks. Sometimes it felt like you were the only one that cared and felt the toll, but Katsuki came home drained enough times for you to know that just isn't true. They find that saving others is worth ripping themselves apart. You shook your head at the idea. It was selfish of you, but you knew they wouldn't be selfish of themselves, so someone had to.

Not allowing yourself to fall deeper into that long fall, you took a deep breath and watch how alive they were right now. The biggest thing about knowing heroes, was that you had to live in the moment rather than the what ifs. Those would tear every inch of you apart.

The trees framing the campsite didn't look nearly as alive as your group did. They sat around the fire, poking fun at each other any chance they got. Bringing up Denki's horrible pick up lines and Kirishima's brick of a head. Their very much alive laughter echoing around your campsite.

The group was stuffed full, sitting around the campfire as they told stories. Alcohol stirring up their blood warm.

"No I swear," Denki laughed, "Bakugo literal came up to the photographer and barked."

"Shut it," Katsuki growled at him.

You were gathering supplies to make smores, craving them with the energy of camping. Arms full you walked back to Katsuki and dumped everything on his lap. "Thank you," you hummed, ignoring his protest.

Grabbing the graham-crackers from his lap you cracked one for a smore. "Can you prepare one for me too?" Katsuki asked, putting a marshmallow on a stick for both you and him.

"Breaking your diet?" you quirked a brow but prepped a smore for him as well. Placing less chocolate on his than yours because you knew he didn't care for sweets.

"Haven't had a smore since I was a kid," he confessed, handing you your stick.

"Seriously?" you were shocked, "Are you talking about that summer from when we were seven?" Recalling the last time he made a smore well. He boasted about his skills until he dropped his second one into a fire.

"Yeah," he followed your movements and put his marshmallow above the fire, letting it slowly melt.

"You guys are so cute," Mina gushed. Honestly, you were so wrapped up in your conversation with Katsuki and the memories, that you forgot about everyone else.

You felt the warm of your blush in your ears, grateful that it was dark and no one could poke fun.

"I'm serious," she whined at your silence, thinking you were disagreeing, "Childhood best friends to lovers, I mean come on! Who doesn't love that trope?!"

It was obvious she was drunk.

"Mina, you're drunk," Katsuki shook his head.

"I don't know, I agree with her. It's admirable," Kirishima followed.

"Thank you," she huffed happily.

"I don't know how you've stayed loyal for so long," Denki said, fumbling when you all gave him a weird look, "In the sense of never having a relationship with someone else before, not cheating."

Sero hummed, "Yeah, weird to know you guys haven't dated anyone but each other."

Katsuki shot you a look, you returning it all the same.

"Wait," Sero leaned forward, "Have you guys dated other people?"

"I haven't," Katsuki side eyed you as he focused back on his smore.

Mina whined your name, "Why haven't I been told this?"

"Did we go to school with them?" Denki butted in.

"It had to of been during first year right?" Sero analyzed.

"Oh my god," you shot Katsuki a glare, annoyed he pushed you into the wolves, "It was middle school." He was smug, seeing his friends basically gasp in betrayal before they heard the 'middle school.'

They let out a series of 'ohs.' The dots easily connecting for them. They never heard you mention anyone in first year, plus you dormed with them so their was no way they wouldn't of noticed someone you were dating.

"See. Not a big deal," you kicked your foot into Katsuki's. Annoyed at how he made it seem. They didn't know before because it was irrelevant. You often forgot about it entirely until he threw it in your face as a joke.

"Still, didn't you have a crush on him then?" Sero pointed out.

Making Katsuki turn his attention back on you, "Did you?" Another thing that wasn't shared

"Yes," you looked at him for a moment, "Hence why the relationship was nothing." You and Katsuki never got deep into the discussion of when your feelings started. Just deciding to date after agreeing on mutual feelings and never really resurfacing it.

You looked back at your smore, you've been absentmindedly rotating it, a little too low into the fire. It was charred. You pulled it back to sadly put into a smore. Looking at Katsuki ready marshmallow before making yours.

"Awh," you pouted, "Can we trade? Your looks better," you basically pleaded.

With a huff he gave in, "Fine."

"Thank you," you smiled at him happily. Putting your mostly charred marshmallow into his less chocolatey smore and putting his golden brown marshmallow into your chocolate heavy smore.

You looked back at the group after handing Katsuki his smore. Happy with the new arrangement.

They were in disbelief, Denki speaking up first, "We're not just moving past your previous relationship, are we?"

"Why does it matter?" Katsuki butt in, confused about how this turned into an entire conversation.

"How does it not matter?" Sero shot back, "Your entire relationship is a lie."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, "Not really. It's one small thing that you didn't know."

"It was a dumb middle school relationship," you filled in.

"Yeah, a relationship before Bakugo," Mina added on, "I need details."

Now you were rolling your eyes, "I don't even remember his name at this point, it's been like five years," you dismissed.

"You player," Denki cut in. You gave him a 'really' look, "Hey! I remember their names."

"I dated him for a week before we 'broke up,' it was hardly a relationship. I think we just dated for a school dance," you shrugged, biting into the smore Katsuki made for you. Melting into your seat at the sweet taste.

"Why'd you break up?" Kirishima questioned for the first time.

You smirked, glancing at Katsuki who was already shaking his head. Glad that the conversation could be flipped back onto him. "This dude," you pointed your thumb at him over your shoulder, looking at the group to see their reaction, "Scared him off by barking. Seems like a habit he hasn't lost."

Denki started cracking up, hunching over and spilling his beer sightly, "Why do you do that?" he laughed harder seeing Katsuki's face scrunch.

"He was dropped on his head," you answered for him.

Denki fell over sideways in his chair, the alcohol clearly making him laugh harder than usual. He always laughed when you and Katsuki bickered, but never this hard.

"Fuck you," Katsuki spat at you, "Shouldn't of given you my smore."

"You're the one that started this conversation," you shrugged, patting your stomach, "Smore was delicious though. Would of been a waste on your lame tastebuds."

"My tastebuds are normal," he argued. Kirishima laughed. "What?" Katsuki growled at him.

"Bro, you chug protein drinks and don't even wince," Kirishima answered.

"Cause I'm not a little bitch," Katsuki defended.

You and Mina cringed. "I can't believe you kiss that guy," Mina looked at you face holding pure disgust. You snorted out a laugh at Katsuki's face.

"Me either," you agreed, likely for different reasons.

"That's it," Katsuki stood up, standing in his classic gremlin stance. Arms out, hands up, and knees bent. He sparked his hands briefly, which made you oldy relived. It was nice to know he didn't have the watch constantly turning his quirk off, that wouldn't be good for him. "I'll kill you all," he stepped straight past you and marched to the others.

Denki scrambled behind a chair, pointing out at you when Katsuki stormed past you, "How come she doesn't?"

"She has to go home with me, she'll get it," Katsuki stomped towards the electric blonde. You blushed at the way Katsuki said it, knowing the others would think of it the same way as you.

"Ew," Sero gagged, "I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Katsuki's hand sparked brighter, "That's not what I meant!"

"Sureee," Mina teased, sending you a wink, "Hear that, you're gonna get it later."

You were bright red at this point. "Shut it," Katsuki all but shouted, running towards Mina. Quickly chasing her around the campsite. Mina using her acid to slide further away from him.

---

After Katsuki successfully singed everyone at least one, they gave in. Kirishima, Sero, and Denki all having cried 'uncle' when Katsuki twisted their arm behind their back. Winning easily due to them all being wasted. Katsuki quickly yelled at them to go to bed. Wanting them to sleep before the group hike early tomorrow so they were back in time to pack up to go back home.

Just like everyone else, you stumbled into the tent, similar to how you did the night before. Barely able to unzip the tent to get in, having Katsuki open it for you

"You're a mess," Katsuki chuckled, zipping the tent close behind him after he saw you stumble in.

You grumbled, grabbing the ends of your shirt and raising it above your head. It was dark enough so he'd hardly see as well as anything he would see, he saw earlier in the pond. Which was a lot more intimate than this. You also had the liquid courage of wine in your system.

"What are you doing?" Katsuki hissed.

"Huh?" you turned to look at him, shirt off your head and in your hands.

"Oh god," Katsuki snapped his head the other direction, his quirk sparking off before he quickly fumbled for his watch, turning his quirk off. "Put a shirt on."

You reach to grab your bag off the floor, setting it on the bed to put your shirt back in, grabbing a sleep shirt, "Why does it bug you?"

"Your half naked," he exclaimed in a hushed tone, not wanting the others to overhear despite them being at least twenty feet away.

"Need I remind you of the pond?" you raised your brow at him, but followed his wish. Pulling your shirt back over your head.

"That's different," he argued, looking back at you.

"I was also in a swimsuit all day," you pointed out, unhooking your bra from under your shirt.

He flushed so bright you could see it well even in the dark, "Will you stop that?"

"I'm just getting cozy," you shrugged, "You could do the same y'know?"

You pulled off your pants to slip on your sleep shorts.

"Oh my god," he groaned. You would of laughed at his dramatics but he was covering his eyes at this point.

"What's so bad about it?" you asked softly.

"You're half naked," he repeated.

You crossed your arms over your stomach, "And that's a problem?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. Exclaimed. Eyes still covered.

"Y'know," you paused for a shaky breath, "you make me feel so insecure."

"What?" he dropped his hands from his eyes.

You looked down, "You're acting disgusted by my body."

"What?" he repeated, "That's not what-"

"Yes it is Katsuki," you cut him off. You could physically feel like heart drop at you calling him his full name and not just Kats. "You're covering your eyes and telling me to cover up. You'd think my boyfriend," you emphasized, "of three years wouldn't be appalled at the idea of my body. "

"You've got it all wrong," he step towards you, you taking a step back.

"Do I?"

"Yes, extremely," he nodded, frustrated.

"Then explain it to me," you offered, "Jolting away from my touch and hugs all these years and now wishing me to not show my skin."

"Fuck," he rubbed his hand over his face, taking a step closer to you, "I just can't handle it. It's too much for me," he admitted.

"I'm going to need you to elaborate."

"It's overwhelming, becomes all I can think about," he took a step closer, and you let him. Arms still crossed as you looked up at him. "I want you more than anything, fuck, more than being number one."

You dropped your arms to your sides, "What?" you asked softly.

"I can't let you touch me for too long because then I just want more. Can't look too long or I'll want to see more," he spoke softly, "it's fucking annoying."

"Then why haven't we..." you left off, knowing he got the hint.

"I'm fuckin scared," he ran his hands through his hair.

"Kats, there nothing to be scared of, " you tried to comfort, "What could the symbol of strength possibly be scared of?"

"Of just that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm worried I'm going to fuckin' blow you up or something," he blurted.

You paled, expecting anything but that.

"Fuckin' see?" he sat down roughly on the air mattress, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his head in his hands.

You took a seat next to him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "Why have you never told me?" you asked gently.

"Didn't want to bother you with this stupid shit," he slapped his hands down, looking over at you.

"It's not stupid," you shook your head at him.

"I should be over it at our grown ass age," he huffed, his eyes were getting bloodshot.

"How are you going to get over something you've never addressed?" you pointed out. Dragging his hands away from his eyes when he tried to rub at them. "Why do you think you'll do that?"

"I can't fucking control it, you see my quirk go off," he stared down at his hands.

"Do you know why it does?" you were trying to figure him out, for his sake and yours.

He sighed, "I get freaked out," he paused for a while, "I get nervous then I start freaking out about my quirk going off and it does."

"I don't see it happening in interviews?" you questioned, knowing he gets anxious in those.

He gave you a blank stare, "What are you? Stupid?"

"Hey!"

"I get nervous around you," he spelt out, "This shit only happens around you."

You flushed from head to toe. All you could do was stare at him dumbly. Mei was right. His quirk went off because of you. You couldn't help the light smile that crossed your face.

"The fuck you smilin' for?"

"I honestly just relived," you confessed, "I thought your quirk going off meant that you wanted me as far away as possible, since when I got too close you pushed me away."

"You'd think your quirk would help your dumbass brain but it doesn't," he looked at you in disbelief, "Why would I be with you?"

"It's also why I thought you kept bring up the physical touch thing," you shrugged, "Thought you were using it as your way out of the relationship."

"Why would of put up with your shit if I didn't want you?" he pointed out.

"Y'know, Mei brought up the same points," you laughed.

He groaned, "Mei knows?"

"Sorry," you apologized, "It was eating me up inside."

"It's fine," he brushed off, "I'm sorry too, didn't really think about what you thought was going on till recently."

"It's fine," you stifled a yawn.

"Tired?"

"Very," you admitted.

"Sleep, we have an early mornin'," he motioned to the bed. You happily moved up the bed, happy to get cozy under the covers next to him after he changed into his sleepwear. Watching the way the small light of the flashlight, used to light your way to the tent, created shadows over the span of his back. It was always a welcomed site to see. It felt even better now, knowing that he wanted you in the same way you wanted him.

"It's fuckin' cold," you mumbled, holding the blanket over your cheeks as you curled up.

Without saying a word, Katsuki pulled you into his side. He was a human furnace, so you instantly melted into his side. Flushed with the closeness. Having gone three years with no touch, to making out in a pond and cuddling in bed together in the same day.

The relief the conversation gave you was insane, you no longer felt disgusted and you no longer felt like he wanted out of the relationship.

This camping trip lifted more than a small weight off your shoulders, but all the insecurities and worries of your relationship along with it. Progress in the right direction could finally be made, rather than the stand still you've been at this entire time.

You let out a sigh of relief, curling into his side more as you let sleep cloud your brain.

-Next Part-

I did not expect this to be so damn long, fuck. I've written this in two days and it's literally the longest thing I've ever written for a chapter. I hoped you like the camping trip, it was fun to write and I hope I illustrated it well enough. Thank you <3

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

@ldk3347 @suki0 @ez4ra @mithicakurogo @aomi04 @ellielover69 @minori-taiga1 @54fangirl @zoast32 @mushroomsneedystuff @kazuumii @snxwflwr @keiva1000 @thescarletwallflower @juicyfingers @atashiboba @ofcqdesi @americasass1942 @kaboomkayla @ilovedenk-i @iamyoursonly @albakugo @venusluvslove @fairiesgloss @limitedstar @i-bitch-you-bitch @drageonix24 @sweetpandabiscuitrebel @sinyaaa @xreiiss @oddball08 @imsuperawkward @lomlchi @anime-manga-fanatic @irlpadfoot @lord-goosifur @chocoyanchan @gollumsmygel @yuptha-tsme @icedemon1314 @alstrums @suki0 @yesiamrobbysimp @supersecretsamm @maeveorsomethinggg @ivuriexo

(make sure your can be tagged, your blog might be hidden)

[coquettebratzdoll]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Okay a while ago I made this post talking abt how I haven't shifted yet bc I'm lazy, and while the sentiment holds true, I made some advancements is my beliefs. I've come to the realisation that I wasn't lazy, I just lacked some things 😭😭. Since many of you guys seemed to relate to my struggle, I'll go over what I found to be lacking and how I am fixing it:

1. Persistence - I just wasn't persisting in the fact that I am a master shifter. Some days I believed, only to give up a few hours later. I let the 3d tell me stuff that was literally not true. Like okay not you tryna be relevant gtfo 💀💀

2. Direction - I had no clear goal in mind. Like ofc I wanted to shift, but I was switching up on myself every half hour. First, I want to shift by xyz date, but then I change my mind and say that I'll shift tonight. So by the time night actually came around, I would just say one aff then give up on myself.

3. Mindset - talking abt giving up on myself, my mindset is all over the place rn. I don't hate myself (far from it), but I do not believe in myself. It's even crazier cus I KNOW I can shift, and I HAVE SHIFTED multiple times to realities like this one 😭😭. Ik that it has to be real, but I am limiting myself by believing that I personally can't shift (or don't deserve to). I know that it is possible to shift with doubts, but if you don't believe in yourself, where will that get you.

4. Methods - there are a plethora of methods that I can choose from to aid my shifting, but I just don't resonate with the traditional methods of shifting. I know that you don't need a method to shift, but I wish someone told me sooner how little methods actually matter. Lemme be honest, I've never been a Type A planner person. Steps and instructions aren't my strong suite. I prefer to be 'lazy' and just go with the flow.

So now that I listed my problems, here are my solutions !!

For persistence, I'm just gonna shut my ass up and do it 💀💀. Like ik 4d is the only reality that matters, so imma continue to hold true in that assumption.

As for direction, imma focus on one dr for now. I'll also gaslight myself so badly yall just wait 😭🙏

Mindset is gonna be the most exposing one lmao. Imma do some shadow work to find the root cause of the problem and deal with it from the source.

For methods, imma use the law of assumption to my benefit. I alr apply it to everything else, so why not shifting ? I'll also add on lucid dreams cus they're fun 💀💀

Overall, this really made me think harder about why I am so 'lazy' when it comes to shifting and inspired me to do something about it. I hope you do the same :)

[amesemii]

Anything she wants.

A/N: HEY YALLL this took a lil long an im sorrryyyy!!! i haven’t made my rules yet so just don’t act like idiots or ill block you💋💋 this was my first time writing in a while and im a little rusty😩 tryna keep up with yall and the new trends in writing tho!! feedback is always appreciated so please don’t ever hesitate❤️💋.

WK; 1.1k

summary: your father forces you last minute to attend a meeting with him to get you out of the house and you meet a certain someone who wants to give the spoiled girl a try.

tw; nothing really, he calls you mama, he lowk a simp, flaunts his money too😒, daddy’s girl, spoiled yn, just be aware ig

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠

“Y/N please come down, it’s time to leave” your father yells up the stairs, and you rush to tie your heels up. Your father knew you took long to get ready so you don’t know why the hell he trying to rush you now when he only let you know of this event a few hours ago.

That was one of the things your father did that you didn’t like much and he was quick to apologize and get you a gift knowing you wanted to look your best in front of other people,he couldn’t tell his lovely daughter no. You were his pride and joy being the only girl out of 2 children. Your older brother long gone a few hours away with your lovely sister in law and your niece.(who you could argue is more spoiled than you)

So now you’re here in the blacked out car with your dad going to some random business party that you didn’t even wanna be at but at least you’ve got your card(your dads card) so you can sit and online shop while your father mingles with his partners.

You sit there scrolling on Amazon just adding things you think are cute to your cart, not even caring to look to into the details. Daddy will handle that, you think to yourself as you add a new vanity to the cart. You’re just scrolling through things when you hear someone mumbling in your ear

“You sure are a spoiled little girl aren’t you?” You look up startled to see a man that should be described as nothing BUT sexy. Tattoos adorning he lights lined body grillz and chains glistening short black hair and he was looking just SO good. But that was besides the point, why was he all up in ya phone?

“An you sure are nosey” you go back to scrolling on your phone now having had moved on to another store until you feel him sit next to you and you try to ignore him but you can feel his eyes grazing over your outfit, you’re about to speak up but he’s quick to interrupt.

“I’m Constance but you can call me Connie , and you are?” He’s not mumbling anymore and you’re pretty sure you hear a little accent but you’re not sure from what.

You look up at him from your phone and introduce yourself but that’s not enough for him, he wants to get to know you. You look pretty, smell good, and got an attitude. His favorite mix. You guys talk for a bit, mostly trying to get to know each other and flirting a bit till he asks a certain question.

“Let me take you out mama”

You actually let out a chuckle at that because there was no way In hell he wanted to fuck with you. You’re too expensive and hard to deal with, you know this for a fact because your brother makes sure to tell you every other day on the phone how you and his daughter make flies come out his wallet.

“You can’t handle me” you say smirking at him and his eyes darken and he’s quick to retort “I’m pretty sure I can handle a little girl like you.” And you scoff cause who tf he calling little?? Ain’t nun lil bout you. “Tuh show me then.” He hands you his phone and you put your number in but he looks confused and excite out and goes to show u other apps.

He goes from cash app, to a regular bank, to a bank you’ve never heard of and then still pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket. “I’m pretty sure I can handle you pretty.” And you can’t help but smile a little bit. “We’ll see Constance.” “I said you can call me connie”

“I know.” You chose to call him by his government because why not try to get under his skin? You look up to see your father coming towards you two and you sit up straight and smile “hey dad!” You start hoping and praying that he says it’s time to go home so you can plot.

“Hi baby girl, are you ready to go?” And you nod your head but go to introduce your father and Connie and they shake hands, you give Connie a side hug as you prepare to leave.

You and your father get to the car and you both slide into the back and he’s quick to start questioning you “so is he your boyfriend?” And you’re quick to say no. You only just met him an hour ago, he was NOT your boyfriend.

the rest of the ride was silent after your father basically played 21 questions. you just chill texting some of your friends and watching instagram reels til a text pops up on your phone.

you had to think for a second about that. did you want to lie and say you had plans or just tell him nothing? you take a second to decide and choose to tell the truth.

you just decide to leave him on read since your ride pulls up to your house. you and your father get out and he asks you what you want for dinner so he can order it and you tell him then quickly get upstairs.

you get to your room and open the door and are hit my a breeze. damn! you always leave that fan on to make sure you don’t get hit but it’s cold as a motherfucka in here.

you go to your closet and pick out some pijamas and go into your bathroom. you turn on the shower and wait for it to get hot and you step in.

you wash your body and just think. did you really wanna go on this date with connie? you know if you were to get hurt your father would handle the situation, so that wasn’t a worry.

you were worried about yourself, you didn’t want yourself to fall for him just cause he makes you feel nice and can give you butterflies. he could be just live everybody else.

but he might not be. it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and by now you already know what to look out for. so you turn off the shower and go out to your room.

you grab your shea butter and body oils, to lotion yourself and get dressed. as soon as you’re done, you decide to text connie back.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself in anticipation of what was to come tomorrow. you were gonna enjoy this

[gh0stlyfixation]

5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant

John Price addition

Simon Riley addition here

Johnny “Soap” McTavish

1. You were very emotional as it was, but now? Four months pregnant it was a rollercoaster ride. Man, what John would do to avoid those tears, you want a cheeseburger from across town and that lemonade only the gas station in the other town had? He’ll get it. But sometimes things can’t be avoided.

You walk in with your shopping bags, eyes full of tears. You drop the bags and catch John's attention from the kitchen only for him to drop what he was doing to rush to you. “What’s wrong baby?” He asks you.

“A little bumblebee died on my car while I was shopping.” You sob, you felt so stupid but you just couldn’t stop crying. John was taken aback not knowing how to respond as he generally rubbed your back to try and console you.

2. You tried, you tried hard not to call John during his debriefing meeting with the team. John checks his phone as he speaks to the team, “hold on guys,” he sighs and walks out. He steps just outside the door keeping it open. “Love?” He asked, he sounds annoyed.

It was only month six, you felt useless and helpless. You heard the annoyance in his tone. You felt even more guilty for calling for such a stupid reason, “never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You say sniffling.

John immediately feels guilty for the way he answered, “no baby, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to sound mean.” John says quietly as the team watches him through the door.

“I um, I can’t open the orange juice jug and I want the orange juice and I can’t have it.” You ramble crying harder.

He pinches his nose, “the meeting is almost over, I’ll be home soon so you can have your orange juice. Just stay strong. You can do it.” He says making all the men snicker, including Simon. Price hangs up after consoling you some more. “I suggest you shut it. Especially you Simon because not long ago, your petting zoo started.” Price says. All the boys laugh at Simon now, what started as a cat ended up as a baby goat that now rests happily in his house.

3. It was 3 am, your designated snack time. Tonight? Cupcakes WITHOUT the icing, but to your dismay, you didn’t have any cupcakes. Tears, immediately.

You waddled to your bedroom where Price slept soundly (not for long), you shake him awake not being gentle, did you eat my cupcakes!” You yell at him.

He’s half asleep, all he sees is your red face and angry tears streaming down your face. He’s groggy, “I- I don’t know?” He mumbles.

“You ate them!” You cry harder now realizing there weren’t any cupcakes.

“I’ll go to the store, and get you some more!” He says now realizing how dire the situation is. He works in two hours, this isn’t how he wanted to start his day.

“I don’t want icing on them!” You yell at him.

“I’ll eat all the icing, you won’t even notice there was icing!” He says quickly pulling on his shoes.

When he returns home, he sits at the dining table as he eats off all the icing and you sit happily with the naked cupcakes. He glares at you as his stomach starts to ache from all the sugary icing, he hates sugar, but seeing you smile after just screaming at him, he’ll deal with the aches.

4. You starred long and hard at the ground constantly shifting your body around, “what are you doing love?” John smiles as he lifted himself on his elbows on the bed to watch you.

“Can’t see my feet.” Your bottom lip trembled and he sees it through the mirror, he gets up to try and stop the tears, “I’m so fat!” You cry stomping your foot on the ground.

“No love, you aren’t fat! Your growing a tiny human in your belly!” John tries to argue.

“I’m fat!” You say sobbing, pushing him away, “don’t wanna be touched.” You cry even harder.

5. You’ve sent John through the wringer these last few months but month nine? Fuck, it was a challenge. You were angry or horny most of the time, even he couldn’t keep up with your pace.

“Johnn,” you whine, “it hurts.” You sniffle.

“What hurts baby?” He asks rubbing your lower back

“Down there, need you.” You sob into the pillow. Fuck, this was one of the times he loved seeing you cry. Crying for him, “please,” you ask looking up at him with tears running down your face.

“Oh baby, how can I say no to you looking like that?” He asks before lifting your nightgown and diving in.

[deceitfuldevout]

Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

“But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

[crestapex]

Boop!

Everyone’s getting booped by kitty paws on tumblr right now so in honor of that here’s big boy Simon with the cat he didn’t want 🐾 I also didn’t give a description for the cat aside from being a kitten in case you wanted to imagine this kitten as your own LOL

Oh, that cat. That damned cat. That’s what Simon thinks, anyways. At first.

He was never too much of a pet person. He loves animals, for sure, but given his choice of career and the way he grew up, pets were just never really in the question. So, when you came home one day with a tiny, soaking wet kitten in your arms, he wasn’t exactly too pleased about it. Not because you were being kind and treating the small critter—that you found huddled up on the side of the road—to some proper care and a warm meal. It wasn’t even because it was a cat, he liked cats a lot, actually. He just never planned on owning one.

And that was exactly why it all had to deal with the fact that he knew the tiny little thing wasn’t going anywhere. A permanent resident of the Riley household. He’d have to pry it from your cold, dead hands. It was no longer just you and him—it was now you, him, and this kitten you now referred to as your child. Not even your child, our child.

So, here he was, staring down at his laptop in complete disbelief. He only left it there for a minute, just to grab a quick snack and return right back. Are you serious right now? He internally questioned, his eyes scanning the trail that lead to the ‘child’ clawing at the armrest on the opposite end of the couch.

Big, wet paw prints decorated the new laptop he had just bought. A trail of them leading from the wet-food bowl in the kitchen, across the wooden floor, and over the couch cushions. He looked over at the culprit, rubbing its furry body all over the armrest, dragging its tiny claws in and out of the fabric. The kitten seemed to have paid no mind to Simon, who found himself sighing and groaning in frustration, crossing his arms and bringing his fingers up to rub the croaked bridge of his nose. He grumbled something to himself, something unintelligible, maybe a few curses here and there.

“Sweetheart!” He called out to you, his voice gruff, laced with clear annoyance.

You quickly came into view, rounding the entrance of the crammed hallway in your cozy little flat. You looked up and over at him, having yet to notice the mighty mess that the small kitten had made. “What’s up?” You asked, brows raised as you began to leisurely walk over to your beloved.

Simon, on the hand, didn’t respond for a half-second, instead staring at you with his permanent R.B.F. that had only slightly softened up since you came into his life. “The cat,” he plainly said, gesturing to the kitten that resided on the couch.

“What about ‘the cat’?” You said, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. Well, he was still getting used to the new addition to your guys’ little family, that much was obvious.

“Love, am I the only one seein’ this?” He quickly responded, his deep British accent thickening. He now gestured a hand to the paw-print stained couch, and his laptop.

Your eyes followed suit, your arms quickly dropping to your sides and your eyes widening at the sight of a path of little bean-prints decorating the sofa, which you had just cleaned hours ago. You followed the path, and Simon watched as you took in the trail of destruction your new furry friend had caused. How are you just now noticing this? Perhaps you were blinded by the pure love and affection for your kitten that, in your eyes, no evil wrong-doings could be done, not by your precious angel baby.

“Oh… shit,” you turned back to look at Simon, his own gaze set firmly on your kitten. “I, uh, I’ll clean this up,” you nodded, giving him an awkward smile. “Watch our baby, please,” you pleaded, turning on your heel and practically speed-walking into the kitchen.

He watched as you gathered all the kitchen towels you could find, as you pulled open the cabinets under the sink and grabbed a bottle of blue liquid. Sigh. He turned away, watching the kitten intently. He couldn’t be mad at you, it wasn’t your fault, technically. No, it was the god of destruction over here’s fault, the progenitor of chaos. The…

Simon silently walked over to the opposite end of the couch, staring down at the small beast. Its tail swaying wildly, quickly catching its attention, and Simon watched a sort of glint in his eyes. Watching as the kitten jumped around, stretching its paws out as far as it could to try and catch and eliminate the weird, furry snake that seemed to follow it around everywhere. The fur around its little pink beans still stained with the remnants of mushy cat food, though no longer wet and painting everything in sight, at least.

How could such a small critter do so much? Have so much… spunk? The brute of a man hadn’t even noticed the way his brows relaxed at the sight of the little fiend.

He bent down, scooping up the kitten in the palm of his hands, then placing it in the crook of his arm. He was just making sure it didn’t go anywhere, that it couldn’t do anymore damage than had already been done, he reasoned with himself… So small and fragile, he could swear that a single pinch from him would break its bones. That if he were a cat tower this little kitten would never get bored, there would always be a new part to explore.

He watched intently, watched as the kitten laid on its back, quickly finding the drawstrings of his jacket. Watched as it extended its little arms and swung its paws wildly, whacking the dangling drawstrings as it fell entranced by such a simple object. Occasionally, the kitten would miss, tiny claws and beans accidentally digging into the fabric of his jacket, an almost unnoticeable smack at his chest.

He hummed, contently, surprisingly. It was stupidly adorable, but he would never admit that, not after the events that had just taken place. Yet, he couldn’t even stop himself from wrapping a hand around the kitten, bringing the creature up to his eye level, because all it took was one hand, two hands would be too much. He was about ready to scold it, to finally let loose his inner cat-dad.

God, he hoped that you weren’t secretly watching. That you were too busy picking up the big mess that such a tiny kitten had made. Besides, you would never again let him live peacefully without teasing him if you saw the way a stained paw reached out and placed itself gently on his nose. A just barely audible chirp and subtle purring emanating from the creature.

That damned cat, he scowled. It was too good at this, even better than you at working its way into his frozen heart. A heart that was beginning to melt.

[tinykittendelusion]

Seventeen's reaction when they overhear another member having sex (🔞)

a/n: overheard my friends have sex at the party last weekend made me curious how the boys would react.

triggers: sexual content (MINORS DNI)

Scoups

Dad mode activated

He was just going about his day when he suddenly heard loud moans from the maknaes room. He'd sigh with a faint blush on his cheeks. Later when he sees Dino he'd remind him to be safe.

Jeonghan

Teases them about it

Jeonghan was backstage with the rest of seventeen and they were about to go on stage. He notices that Joshua is missing. He'd go to check on josh near the toilets when from one of the cubicles he hears yous softly moaning Joshua's name. Would smirk and later tease him about it.

Joshua

Would laugh and ignore it

Now you need to understand Joshua has the patience of gods. so when he overhears you and Dokyeom in the shower he just shakes his head and finds another room to hang out in.

Jun

Face red whenever he takes to both of you

In your defence you thought all the members had gone home. But jun came back to get his sweater when he hears you and hoshi in the practice room going at it he'd just turn around and leave forgetting all about his sweater. He'd be so red the next day that the members would think he's not well.

Hoshi

Would yell Horanghe and leave

When he walked past Woozi's studio he heard something fall and he wanted to check just that. It's not his fault that you both were going at it on the floor. He'd yell loudly "HORANGHE" and leave but you'd notice his red ears for the next few days.

Wonwoo

Leave and stay in a hotel for a few days

You and mingyu were having sex in the kitchen when this precious bean arrived home.But as soon as he opened the door he could hear you both so.. he closed it. Would stay in a nearby hotel for a few days just to give you privacy. Mingyu might start thinking that he is seeing someone.

Woozi

Would make a sensual song

They were overseas on a schedule and you had flown over to surprise Seungkwan and woozi's only mistake was his room was right opposite seungkwan. When coming back from drinking with the other members he could hear your moans loud and clear in the hallway. Later that night he kept tossing and turning thinking about what he overheard. Ends up writing a millian dollar song.

Dokyeom

Avoids you both for a few days

In his defence he thought the both of you had passed out somewhere, he didn't expect you both to be having sex completely wasted in the restaurant's washroom. He would immediately turn around and send a hyung to deal with it. Would avoid both minghao and you for a few days because he would be so awkward and embarrassed.

Mingyu

Would give you soundproofing material for your birthday/anniversary

You and wonwoo were LOUD not his fault. He'd be sitting in his room and contemplating why he's living with his best friend and his girlfriend when he is rich enough to afford another house. Would gift you guys some soundproofing equipment cause "i want to be sane". Is more annoyed than embarrassed.

Minghao

Invest in soundproof headphones

The dorms were a place for him to relax but how could he when you and Jun were apparently having the sex of your lives? would roll his eyes and text vernon for recommendations on soundproof headphones. Again he's more annoyed than embarrassed but he won't bring it up to either of you.

Seungkwan

Starts singing loudly

His house was filled with moans every time they'd come back from an overseas schedule you and your boyfriend jeonghan kept going at it for all night. Tired and irritated boo starts singing on the top of his voice and ends up singing till dawn. He gets so lost into singing and having fun he never realised that the noises stopped hours ago.

Vernon

Shuts the door

The boys were all at your and scoups place to watch a movie between which you and scoups had escaped to his room for more interesting things but one of you forgot to close the room properly and vernon was tired of you both ruining the movie for him finally got up and shut the door and then turned up the volume of the tv.

Dino

Gets turned on

You and vernon sounded like you both were having the best sex of your life. Dino was sitting in the living room with the strawberries his dad had given for all the members.He suddenly realises he's sporting a boner and leaves quietly. It's not because he's attracted to either of you but the act of sex in itself.

a/n: I laughed way too much while writing vernon's and hoshi's parts😭🤣

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART ONE

"trying to play it coy, trying to make it disappear"

⚠️ new series alert! ⚠️ and also my 1k follower celebration!!! (altho it might as well be the 2k celebration now considering how fast my following has grown. thank you ;-;) i polled my followers a little while ago to choose between 3 different fic premises and this one was the winner! it was originally meant to be a stand alone but i'm actually more interested in making it a brand new series, so i hope you guys enjoy! i'm not exactly sure how many parts this will be yet, i'll let you know when i do. title and lyrics are from 'bad liar' by selena gomez.

summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: (for this fic in general) age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink, dirty talk, general smut, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic) -- (for this chapter) wet dreams, mentions of masturbation. word count: 5k ao3

The sun is warm and pleasant on your bare skin as you lay out in the freshly mown grass of your backyard, absorbing the heat and smiling languidly despite the humidity. You're grateful for your family's wealth on days like today, knowing that at any moment you could take a few steps and dive headfirst into the cool water of your pool, fresh and inviting. It's been about a month since you returned and you've spent almost every day outside among the green grass, the chlorinated water, the burning Texas sun. It's been heaven.

The backdoor suddenly swings open and your father's voice booms out into the backyard, "Family meeting," he states, loud and serious, "Five minutes."

Or hell.

With a groan you slowly sit up, hands digging into the thin towel laid out beneath you. You know better than to ignore an order like that. Being back from college for the summer has certainly had it's perks; no annoying roommates, no loud parties, a large backyard and pool to yourself, but having to deal with your parents again certainly isn't one of them. You'd thought coming back after three years might have softened them a bit, lowered their guard, made them less strict. Instead, it's almost had the opposite effect.

You slide into your flip flops and walk begrudgingly inside the house, making note of your mother standing anxiously by the stove with her arms crossed. What's the issue now? At least once a week your father calls these "family meetings", which always pertain to you and only you, seeing as you're their only child. Last week they'd spent half an hour berating you about forgetting to put the garbage out, the week before they'd tried to explain the importance of an early bed time to you, like you were seven.

You're a grown woman, a full fledged adult. Sure, you're only twenty one, you're unemployed, you're currently in the process of obtaining an arts degree that probably won't secure you anything tangible in the real world, but you're an adult nonetheless. You only have one year left of school before you can leave all this behind and start fresh somewhere else. You'd thought coming back home for one more summer would bring nostalgia and happiness, a few months of normality before life exploded in front of you.

Turns out your parents had pictured something different.

Your father gestures toward the kitchen table, urging for you to sit. You hate when they do this, make you feel small and childish while they both stand above you and reiterate rules they've had your whole life, rules that apparently you'll never grow out of. You wonder what rule you've broken now.

"We've noticed that you barely leave the house," your father begins, voice deep and authoritative, "We were under the impression that when you came home you'd be spending time with old friends, doing some volunteering again."

"Going to church," your mother adds beside him, a frown permanently etched on her face, "You've only gone twice since you've been here."

Call the cops, you think to yourself, forcibly holding back an eyeroll. Ironically your father is a police officer, and you highly doubt he'd ever come if you called.

"Instead, you just spend all your time in that backyard," he continues, nodding along with your mother, "We didn't invite you back to simply laze around all summer, there have been clear expectations you're not meeting."

You take a deep breath, feeling a hint of anger and stubbornness burning in the pit of your stomach. You shove it down, back to that secret hiding place you've cultivated throughout all these years of having to deal with them.

"I'm sorry, dad," you say, trying to sound as earnest as possible as you look to him and then your mother, "Sorry, mom."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, we need to see action," your father replies quickly, brow furrowed, "No more lounging around in the backyard on weekdays, that's a weekend activity from now on, we clear?"

You nod, "Clear."

"We want you to get involved in something," your mom takes a step forward, places her hand awkwardly on your shoulder, "Why don't you call Bethany? She's always looking for more helpers at Sunday School, or maybe Alice? I hear she's been volunteering at the soup kitchen for the summer."

You haven't spoken to either Bethany or Alice since you left for university three years ago. The thought of calling them, let alone having to work with them in either setting, makes you feel ill. You nod again, pretending to agree.

"That sounds good, I'll call them tomorrow morning," Both of your parents smile, appeased, "I think I'll go for a walk now, if that's okay. Clear my head, think about things I can do to improve."

"That's the spirit," your dad says, wrapping an arm around your mother, "Remember, be back before dinner or the door will be locked."

"I know," you nod, forcing a smile, "I won't forget."

--

Well, that's it, then. You'll have to leave.

It sounds dramatic to say that your parents telling you to get off your ass is enough to send you packing, but it goes so much deeper than that. You've spent your entire life doing everything these people say, nodding and smiling when you're meant to, apologizing for everything, doing anything you can to appease and impress them. You'd spent your high school years in youth choir, church group, organizing fundraisers, studying your ass off, tutoring, joining as many extracurriculars as possible until you had no free time. And even then, nothing ever seemed to be enough for them.

When you'd left for college they'd both cried at the airport, held you in their arms and told you with sincerity that they'd miss you so much. Your mother had kissed your face and held your hands and your father had hugged you for the first time since you were eleven years old. And because of their sudden burst of emotions, of affection, you'd actually missed them once you left. You remember you'd cried on the plane, scrolling through pictures of them on your phone until the battery died, thinking to yourself that maybe they weren't the horrible, authoritarian people you thought they were.

They called you once a week while you were at college, asking for updates, telling you they missed you, giving you neighborhood gossip that made you laugh and feel nostalgic for home. Being away from them, it was like they suddenly became two entirely new people, bonded together by their suddenly empty nest and seemingly trying to do right by you now, even if it felt a little too late. You'd thought about coming home a few times for a visit, but the memories that triggered the anger in the pit of your stomach kept you from doing so. You'd kept them at arm's length until you felt ready to come back.

And now you're back, and nothing has changed. They're the same people they always were, expecting too much of you, thinking they can control you, never quite believing that you're trying your best. You'd told them before you came that you just wanted to relax this summer, spend some time at home, maybe meet up with some old friends - keyword being maybe - and they'd seemed totally on board with the idea. There had been no mentions of keeping busy, no mentions of Sunday School or soup kitchens or rules. Then you'd arrived and realized how stupid you'd been to believe that they could ever change.

Your entire life you've been their perfect girl, their A+ student who volunteered and read bible verses and tutored the neighborhood kids, sacrificed your happiness more times than you can count for the sake of keeping them satisfied. But that's the thing: they're not satisfied, and they never will be.

Your flip flops smack against the concrete of your suburban street, sun beginning to set in the distance as you think about how exactly you're going to escape this hell. Yeah, you could just walk out the front door without a word, but it's not like you have anywhere to go or the money to do it. You have your plane ticket for your return flight back to school, but it's not 'til September and it's under your father's name. Your family might be wealthy but none of that wealth has ever gone directly into your pocket, and you doubt it ever will if you just bail on them in the middle of the night with no warning.

Your thoughts scatter when you hear someone call out your name nearby. Your head swivels and you see one of your neighbors, Mrs. Lillard, waving from her front porch. You wave back, give her a small smile.

"How's college treatin' ya?" she calls to you, taking a sip from a bottle of beer, "Got a boyfriend?"

Your cheeks warm immediately and shake your head, "Not yet!" you call back.

"I bet you're battin' 'em all away," her voice is slurred and you're sure that's probably not her first beer of the day, "Nobody's good enough for ya, huh?"

"I guess," you say awkwardly, continuing to walk and hoping she won't ask you to join her for a beer, "How's your husband?"

"Pain in my ass," she responds with a grunt and takes another swig, "Bet you can't wait to have your own white picket fence, perfect as you are."

Her words make you uncomfortable but you just give her your signature fake laugh and flip your hair, waving again, "Bye, Mrs. Lillard."

Your face falls as soon as you turn around, anger burning again. You've spent so much of your life being the picture perfect little suburban girl, doing everything your parents say, saying your prayers and reading to the elderly, killing yourself to get straight A's and only speaking when spoken to. Your reputation is widely known around the neighborhood; the sweet little girl, the pure and innocent God fearing angel. You've portrayed yourself as that girl for so long that you almost don't know which part of you is real anymore.

You keep walking down the street, eyeing the sunset as you go and wondering what would happen if you just didn't go back home tonight. As your father had said, he locks the door every night after dinner; you don't have a key, you've never had a key. You're only allowed into your house on the basis of trust and good merit. If you just refused to go back tonight, how would they react? The thought of doing something like that sends a warm flush of rebellion across your skin, eyes bright with intrigue. But where would you go?

You turn the corner and your nose is suddenly hit with the delectable scent of a barbecue, smokey and delicious. You slow a bit, closing your eyes and breathing in the warm air, stomach growling. You suddenly realize that if you don't go home tonight you'll also miss dinner. Another rule broken. You keep walking, trying to follow the scent like some kind of bloodhound. Maybe you know whoever's cooking and they'll invite you to eat with them.

A few houses down you start to hear the sound of music. There must be a party going on, a birthday or some other special occasion. It's only as you get closer to the sound that you realize it's not being played from a speaker or stereo, but from someone's front porch; a real guitar, live and acoustic.

You approach the house in question and see a man sitting on his front step, guitar in hand as he strums a steady tune. He's looking down, watching his fingers, monitoring his movements, but you see dark brown curls with hints of grey peppered throughout, a stubbled jaw line and curved nose. You slow your speed, furrowing your brow as you try to place him. You're not sure you've ever seen him before.

His music is calm and inviting, a plucky sounding tune that seems vaguely familiar. You're suddenly filled with intrigue, trying to place the song and slowing to a complete stop in front of the house without meaning to. You watch the man's callused fingers pick away at the strings, fast and professional, like he's been doing this for years. He probably has.

You're still trying to place the song, biting your lip and swiping through songs in your mind like an invisible rolodex. Johnny Cash? Bob Dylan? It sounds like one of those songs your parents would forbid you to listen to as a kid, the ones with devil worship in their lyrics, sung by bad men who didn't believe in God. You'd always questioned this logic, wondered how songs about living out in the country or falling in love could be inherently against your religion. They didn't even listen to it, just blindly told you it was against the rules.

Suddenly the man stops playing and you realize the song has come to an end. He looks up then, notices you standing there at the end of his walk with your furrowed brow and flip flops. His eyes are brown, expression startled at first but then fading into something softer as he gives you a small smile.

"Been there long?" he asks, voice crackling slightly, like he hasn't spoken much today.

You shake your head quickly, "I'm sorry, I heard you playing and I-"

"S'alright," he replies strumming his guitar absentmindedly and giving you a shrug, "I don't mind an audience."

He's southern, definitely a Texan, but you're sure you've never met him before. His face and voice are unfamiliar to you, but certainly not unwelcome. He's older, probably in his 40s or even 50s, but he's handsome and slightly boyish in a way despite his greying hair and freckled skin. He reminds you of one of those men on album covers your father had slammed down one day in the record store when you were nine, yelled at you in front of everyone that the men who made that music were filthy sinners. It hadn't stopped you from listening to them, though, curiosity getting the better of you.

Is that who you're looking at now? A filthy sinner?

"You okay?" he asks slowly, tilting his head. You realize you're just staring at him, gathering your thoughts.

You shake your head again quickly, feeling yourself blush under his gaze, "Sorry," you repeat, "I'm uh, I was just passing by and I heard you playing that song. It sounded really familiar."

He gives you a crooked smile and a nod, "Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan," you say, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. That song was from one of the albums you'd listened to in secret, one of the only times you'd had to delete your browser history. You feel pride swell in your chest at the smile you elicit from the man in response, like he's recognizing a fellow music lover.

"Good ear," he continues to lightly pluck at the strings of his guitar, "You play?"

"Um, not really." It's a half truth but mainly a lie, you've never played in your life. You feel slightly disappointed in yourself and you're not sure why; it's not like you've ever felt any kind of urge to learn, especially considering your parents would've made sure you only learned appropriate songs. When would you have even found the time between all your extracurriculars?

"Well, it ain't difficult," he starts playing the song again, slower this time, "Pretty repetitive chord progression, room for some adlibbin' here and there once you get the hang of it."

You nod like you understand what he's talking about, suddenly lost in the way his fingers pull at the strings, make the music come to life out of nothing. His hands are big, fingers long and thick as they curve back and forth, up and down. It's hypnotic to watch. He stops again and looks up, catches you staring.

"How old are you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You swallow, unsure what exactly the right answer is. Part of you wants to lie, tell him you're older than you actually are so he doesn't just see you as some bright eyed kid. This is the first person you've encountered since coming back who doesn't know who you are, doesn't know about your reputation. You could tell him anything, be anyone, and he'd take it at face value.

"I'm twenty five," you lie, but it sounds unnatural in your mouth.

He looks you up and down, eyes raking your body in a way you're unfamiliar with. Like a man. Like the way your roommates back in college get looked at, sensually and flirtatiously, being eyed up by drunk guys at the bar who only have one thing on their mind. You feel your heart begin to thrum quicker in your chest; is that really how this man is looking at you? This grown man, not a high school crush or a college fratboy, a real man?

"Sweetheart, we both know that's a lie," he says with a chuckle, eyes coming back to rest on your face, "I'd guess twenty."

You make a face, "I'm twenty one, actually."

He laughs again, putting his hands up in surrender, "My bad, twenty one."

You watch as he starts to strum once again, something new and unfamiliar. You listen for a few moments, eyes trained back on his fingers, watching him play.

"You wanna come in for a bit?" he asks, voice nonchalant, like he's asking you something completely casual.

And maybe he is, but the words make your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat. The way he'd looked at you just then, laughed at your words, wanted to know your age... now he's inviting you into his house? You've never actually been flirted with before, not when it mattered, and you're not entirely sure if that's what's happening. But it feels like it, even though you can't imagine how someone like him could see anything sexy about a girl like you.

"...Why?" you ask quietly.

He looks up at you with another smile, still plucking the strings, "If you need to ask then maybe I read you wrong," he chuckles again, eyes trailing down your legs and taking in your short dress, the way it stops at your knees, "Now that I really look at you, maybe I'm talkin' to a good Christian girl."

"You're not," you say it too quickly, "I mean, I'm not. I'm not a good Christian girl."

"No?" he smirks, "Don't have a good southern daddy waitin' for you to come home? Momma waitin' with a pie in the oven?" he's not being serious but you feel your skin flush at the accuracy of his words.

"Maybe," you mutter, hand going down to touch your dress nervously, "But maybe I don't wanna go home."

He nods and stops plucking, licking his lips and thinking to himself. You have to admit, there's something about him that draws you to him, something masculine and new. He's much, much older than you but not in a way that creeps you out or makes you want to run away. You find yourself hoping he'll ask you to come inside again so this time you can give him the right answer, the one he wants to hear.

"You probably should," he finally says, then stands up on his porch steps and slips his guitar onto his back. The strap digs into his broad shoulders, accentuating his size as he suddenly towers over you on the step.

"Sh-should what?" you ask breathlessly, and you wonder if he can tell your heart race has picked up, see the thumping of your pulse in your exposed neck.

"Go back home," he says with a shrug, "I mean, if they're waitin' for you..."

"They're not," you say it with firm finality, shaking your head, "I'm twenty one, I do what I like."

He walks down the steps then, getting closer and closer to you until he's suddenly standing directly in front of you. His eyes cast downward, assessing your expression; you swear he looks at your lips and licks his own again.

"So would you like to come inside?" he asks again, peering down at you with a dark sense of desire that makes you swallow roughly, feel a light and steady thrum between your legs, "Let me teach you how to play that song?"

Here's your chance. Just say yes.

"N-no," you gasp, taking a step back from him, "Um, n-not today."

He smirks, almost like he knew that would be your response. He hitches his guitar up his shoulder and gives you one last smile before turning around and walking back up his steps.

"Well, I'm here if you change your mind," he calls back to you, reaching for the doorknob on his front door and peering at you with another side glance, still assessing you, "Would love to teach a pretty thing like you how to use her fingers."

You feel your lips part in surprise, an unfamiliar tingling sensation flooding your body as he gives you a wink and walks into his house, shutting the door behind him. You've still got that steady throbbing feeling in your underwear, something you've only felt a handful of times. You know what it is, you're not completely clueless, but you can't remember the last time it happened.

You take another step back slowly, heart still pounding in your chest as you stare at his closed door. Then you turn on your heel and speed walk back the way you came, flip flops slapping against the ground aggressively. You revel in the way your thighs rub together as you walk, soothing that ache.

Any thoughts of not going home have gone from your mind. You need to ask your parents who this man is. As soon as possible.

-

You get home right before dinner, giving yourself just enough time to formulate exactly how to ask your parents about the man with the guitar. You're slightly afraid that you might seem too eager, too curious, and that they'll see right through you; you can't imagine how they'd react to knowing their perfect little girl is getting butterflies over a middle aged man.

But that's what you have: butterflies. In your tummy, all over your skin, between your legs. Being talked to the way he did, being looked at the way he did, it's making you feel hot all over, itchy and uncomfortable but in a good way.

The last time you felt this way was during your first week of college, at a party you'd gone to with your roommate. You'd seen him across the room, tall and blonde, watched as he licked his lips and looked you up and down. He was gorgeous, an angel you were convinced God had placed at this party just for you. You felt that tingle between your legs, swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat and imagined what it would be like to be kissed by him.

Then he'd approached and you realized he'd been looking at your roommate the entire time.

Your mother is just beginning to plate the meal when you slip into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table beside your father. She serves you both with a smile and sits, then extends her hands to both of you.

"Bless us, O Lord, for these, Thy gifts," she begins quietly, and you quickly hang your head and close your eyes as she continues, "which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," you and your dad echo, then begin your meal. Just the same as always.

"How was your walk?" your father asks.

Here goes nothing.

"It was nice," you say, nodding thoughtfully to yourself and hoping you sound nonchalant, "I said hi to Mrs. Lillard."

"We've been praying for her," your mom interjects immediately, "She's an alcoholic, you know."

Your mom stays on top of all the neighborhood gossip, part of the reason you feel she might know something about the mysterious man. With a nod of your head you continue, "And then I saw someone else, a man playing guitar on his front porch, but I've never seen him before."

"Oh, him" your mom rolls her eyes, "Mr. Miller. Piece of work."

Bingo.

Your eyebrows raise, intrigued, "How so?"

"Kindness, dear," your father says with a disapproving nod to your mother, "He's done nothing to us."

She sighs and shakes her head, "You're right, I'm sorry."

The conversation is definitely going somewhere but it's already taking a turn into dangerous territory; you're not one to question, to interfere or interject. Pressing them further might make them suspicious, but you have to know.

"What did he do?" you ask, trying your best to sound casual, "If you don't mind me asking?"

Your mother is about to speak but your father gives her a look, almost a warning. She closes her mouth and sits back in her chair, waiting for him to answer you instead.

"He didn't do anything," your father explains, "Your mother invited him for dinner and he declined, that's all."

"It's the way he declined," your mother sits forward again, voice curt and irritated, "He was very rude."

"Rude?" You can tell your mom wants to talk about it, dredge up something she hasn't been able to discuss for a while; you're surprised she hadn't already told you over the phone while you were at college.

"This isn't appropriate conversation for the dinner table," your father says sternly, and you're not sure if he's talking more-so to you or your mother, "End of discussion." As usual your mother folds in on herself, picking up her fork and starting to eat again.

"Your father's right," she says, though you know she doesn't really believe that, "Let's just eat."

You wonder what the man - Mr. Miller - could have said to make your mother react this way. It's not unusual for her to get stiff and bothered by people - it's pretty easy to push her buttons, actually, but the list of things that offend her is long and detailed. He could have said pretty much anything to set her off. The specifics are lost on you.

You resign yourself to defeat and eat your dinner, sincerely glad that the tingling sensations in your body have subsided. You do not need to be feeling like that with your parents in the room.

-

You dream about him.

It's muddled and confusing, taking place simultaneously back at college and in your childhood bedroom, but he's there. In both places, somehow. You're back at that first week of college party, but instead of the blonde boy it's him standing across the room, eyeing you up and down. But this time he doesn't go for your roommate, he walks over to you and looks deeply into your eyes, gives you that delicious smirk and brings his hands down to touch your waist. He's so big compared to you, so much older. He pulls you in with a strong grasp and holds you to his broad chest, runs his hands down your back.

Then you're both transported from the college party to your parent's house. You're on your bed, sitting next to him atop the covers and watching him play guitar. You watch his fingers, long and thick, hypnotizing you with their movements. He stops playing and brings one to your chin, tilts your head up to look into your eyes again.

"You're not a good Christian girl," he whispers in that southern drawl, breath ghosting across your face, inching closer and closer, "You're all mine, aren't you?"

You wake up with a start and immediately feel the dampness in your underwear, the butterflies back again with a vengeance as your pussy throbs and pulses. You've never felt anything like this before, grasping your chest and reaching for your bedside lamp in the darkness. You sit there in bed for a few moments, catching your breath and waiting for the feelings to vanish again, for your aching core to stop reminding you that it's never been touched, not once, even though you know it's absolutely begging for it.

With shaky hands you reach down and run a finger through your wet folds, shivering at the soft touch. You've never masturbated before, never had sex or anything else you've learned about from your friends at college. They'd looked at you with disbelief when you'd told them you'd never even had an orgasm; one of them had gone so far as to ask if she could give you one.

"No," you'd said curtly, "No thank you."

Now you sit on your childhood bed with your legs open and a finger pressed lightly against you within your underwear. You're not even sure what to do, where exactly to touch, how to bring yourself to completion. You're twenty one years old but you've spent your entire life being the good, pure, God fearing girl waiting for marriage like her parents taught her.

"Enough," you whisper into the darkness, "I'm done waiting."

You yank your finger out of your panties and lay back on the bed, switching off the lamp and closing your eyes again. You've already decided before you drift off that you'll be paying Mr. Miller another visit tomorrow, as soon as possible.

He told you he wanted to teach you how to use your fingers; you intend to make sure he does.

[quizzicalwriter]

i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood

Cherry

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.5k

Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.

It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.

Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.

While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.

Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.

"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"

With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.

"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."

Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."

You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.

Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.

Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.

"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.

"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.

The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.

"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."

All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.

"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."

Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.

The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.

It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.

Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.

"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.

"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"

"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."

Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.

"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."

And then he ruined it.

You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."

The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.

"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."

Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.

"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"

You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.

"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.

"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."

"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."

The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.

"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."

Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.

With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.

"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."

You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.

"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.

Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."

Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.

You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.

"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."

Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.

"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."

"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.

"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."

So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.

The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.

So you did.

He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.

You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.

“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”

With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”

His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.

“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”

You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.

A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.

“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.

The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.

“Dal-“

There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.

White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.

“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.

“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”

Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.

In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.

You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.

Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.

Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.

"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."

He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.

His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.

You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.

“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.

Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.

"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."

All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.

His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.

The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.

"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.

"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."

Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.

So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.

A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.

"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."

Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.

You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.

His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.

"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.

"It won't happen again, alright?"

His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.

"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.

"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."

"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.

"Yeah, guess I am."

A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!