#yuta angst

[kpopcafeeee]

Wanna make a movie?-yuta

Pairing: photographer! Yuta nakamoto x fem! Reader

Warnings: photographer boyfriend Yuta!, Smut, filming sex, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it people!), after care kink, choking, hair pulling, begging, degration, head giving ( m receiving)

Summary: you and your boyfriend Yuta were gonna just chill and watch your favorite movies and fall Asleep you thought but he had other plans….

A/N: so i will post stories they might be short but hey it’s the thought that counts and send some juicy JUCIY requests and please don’t be shy about it and that’s and I hope y’all enjoy it . Also y/n doesn’t get no prep just straight up DICK.

Enjoy :)

You we’re waiting on your boyfriend to get back from work cause he promised you guys would watch a movie and just chill. And when he arrives he has a camera and not just a regular camera that you take pictures with its was a camcorder. He usually didn’t bring his equipment home with him unless he had to work on a project that he could finish at the office. So when he brought home his camcorder it was surprising and confusing. “Hey baby” he said while giving you the most perfect smile along with a kiss on the cheek, “hey, what took you so long?” While stepping aside to let him in the house. “I was only 3 minutes late baby don’t worry I just had to talk to my boss about some things” he says in the a smooth tone while taking your hand and walking you into your shared bedroom.

“I thought we were gonna watch a movie together?” You said while he sat you down no the bed and pulled his camcorder out and placed it infront of you guys bed. “we are the movie” he said while turning back to you with a mischievous smile on his face “w-what do you mean?” You said confused. “I’m going to film us having sex baby, but if you don’t want to we can always just lay down and watch a actual movie and forget the whole thing” he said looking at you with concern tone.

Honestly the whole thing was arousing and you wanted too. “Let’s do it” you confidently he was shocked for a second. He didn’t think you would actually wanna do it. He thought you would simply say no and shut down his fantasies and never talk about it again. “Is it record-“ you ask but before you could get the full thing out Yuta pounced on you and bringing you in with a rough kiss. teeth clashing together in the process.

He then stands up off the bed with a smirk and walks to the camera and grabbed it. He then went back to the bed but this time sitting at the edge of the bed. “Come here” he says with a dominant tone. You then got of the bed and walked infront of him. “yes?” You said curious about what he was going to do “kneel for me baby” he said with the camera facing down to his pants and his growing erection.

You do what he says and starts to unzip his pants. You pull down his pants and briefs all together. His cock springs up with a red tip with precum leaking from his tip, your mouth watering ready to take anything he gave you right then and there. You start kissing his tip, hissing at the contact “s-stop teasing baby girl” he said grabbing your hair into a ponytail while lining your face to his cock “open wide pretty” he said with a mischievous smirk. You open your mouth and not even a second later he shoved his cock in your mouth, he then lets you adjust and starts at a slow pace “s-shit” he says and lets out the most beautiful groan you ever heard. He starts speeding up his pace and bucks his hips into your mouth and you hold onto his legs for dear life, all while the camera is still focused on you taking his cock into your mouth like a pro. You look up at him with teary eyes as he starts to go at a humane pace “f-fuck baby you look so cute with my cock in your mouth” he says while groaning at how your gaging around him. You then tap his signaling that you needed to take a breath for some time. So he lets go of your head and you pull off his cock and look up at him in is eyes “I want you to cum in me” you say with a whimper. “F-fuck baby whenever you look me like that I’ll do anything” he said while flipping your positions to you on the bed and him on top of you with a camera facing you.

He then starts to rip off each piece of clothing on your body like a madman. Leaving you in your bra and your soaked painties. He then pulled your bra down to let your tits out and let’s the camera have a look like someone was watching live, he then starts licking one of your tits teeth grazing it as he sucks “I love your tits so much” he says between your breast.

He then stops and rips your panties off of your body, “YUTA!” You say shocked, “calm down baby I’ll buy you another pair” he says with a wink. He then went back to ruining you. He went down on you with the camera in his hand, he wanted it to get a good view of your pretty cunt before he ruins you. “Who does this pussy belong to?” He says while moving his thumb up and down your slit “y-you” you say in a unsteadily breathing “who baby?” He said looking up at you, when you don’t answer he slaps your cunt asks you again “who does this pussy belong to slut?” He says with seriousness in his eyes and lust “y-you yuta!” You say eyes rolling to the back of your head. Instead of preparing you for his cock he slams his cock into knocking the wind out of you, not Long after he starts moving his hip into your hips “f-fuck so tight for me baby” he says while putting his face in your neck to leave marks on you to let people who you belong to.

You moan so loud at all your most sensitive parts being pleasured that your sure the neighbors probably heard you and thought you being murdered. Springs of curses come from under his breath “f-fuck baby it’s like your pussy was made to take my dick” he says sucking on your sensitive spot.

“F-fuck Yuta!” You moaned your 1st orgasm coming out of you. Clenching around his dick while his lower admen was covered in your juices, “s-shit baby” he says as grunts come out of his mouth, he rides you through your high and cum during that and filling you to the brim with his cum.

(I was lazy and didn’t want to right all that rn sooo I’m sorry baby😢)

He then pulls out of you his cum spilling out of your cunt. You then Relax into the bed until you feel arms wrapping around carrying you bridal style into you and yutas bathroom. Putting you into the tub and then coming and sitting down behind with his phone in his hand “wanna watch a movie baby?” He says kissing the side of your cheek (face). You then laugh and agree and watch the movie on his phone. At least you got to watch a movie it’s a win win.

THE END

Sorry if it sucked ass and took a long time

By: kpopcafeeee

[pipsqueak1507]

Yuta is judging you

[jhdyuiee]

Where are You?

✪ pairing: BIKER!yuta x GF!Y/N

✪ warnings/tags: smut!, angst, fluff, arguing/fighting (verbal not physical), make-up sex, name calling (brat, slut, baby, good girl, princess), breast play, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, riding & doggy, tit sex (?!), spanking, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex (only on pill), cum eating, rough yuta

✪ w.c: 2.4k

✪ a.n: hii!! this is 1 of 2 fics i release today 😆 ! yesterday was my sisters birthday so i wasnt able to upload but im back with 2 stories today yay! anyhow i hope yall enjoy this one && thank u all for the love and support on Mirrors 🤍

3:40 a.m

I turned to the clock once more, the minutes and hours passing with still no sign of him. Yuta promised to be home by midnight, but 3 hours later he’s still not here. His race should’ve finished by now. I tried calling and messaging him but no response. I was about to give him one last call, when the front door opened, keys dingling.

I rushed out and was met with the man. Yuta was taking off his leather jacket, his black tank underneath. His muscular body under the moonlight that shone from the windows made him look even more attractive.

“Where have you been?” I questioned.

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “Racing, where else?”

“I know that, but what took you so long? You said you would be back by midnight,” I said, slightly irritated.

“Johnny got into an altercation with the other team when they wouldn’t shut up about the win being rigged,” Yuta explained.

“Yet you couldn’t answer my messages or calls?”

“Look, Y/N I’m tired. Let’s talk tomorrow,” he said softly. However I wasn’t having it. Honestly, this wasn’t even the first time he’s ever done this. For the past months or so he’s been coming home late after his races. In which I have grown suspicious about.

I scoffed, “Sure you are.” Before he could let another word out, I went back to our bedroom. As much as I wanted to give him a peace of mind, I was too tired from staying up waiting for him.

“Y/N,” Yuta yelled when I sat down in the bed. He came storming in. The patience in him evaporated. “What the fuck is wrong, huh?”

I slightly flinched at his words. I looked up at him, “You, that’s what’s wrong.”

Yuta came closer, “Me? What the fuck have I done?”

“You never come home! You’re always back so late,” I said, my voice slightly rising.

He chuckled, “That’s it? Really?”

‘Why was he treating this as a joke? Laughing? Nothing was funny about this.’ I got up from the bed, “Yes, I’m your fucking girlfriend for fuck sakes and I barely even get to see your face nowadays.”

He took another step closer, “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I didn't know my girlfriend was lonely.” Yuta didn’t seem sorry at all. “Nice try at a lame apology,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Another step, “Why are you acting like such a brat right now?”

I didn’t respond, I couldn’t. Brat. The word sent a chill down my body, in a good way.

“Huh? What’s wrong now?” Step. “Oh, I got it now,” Yuta said with more enthusiasm. His face brightened up like everything clicked to his head.

He brought a hand down my body, placing it above the curve of my ass. I felt as he fondled it, until he went further down and cupped my sex. I gasp at the touch of his hand on my sex.

He leaned into my ear, “You’ve been needy haven’t you? Is that why you’re so upset?” His hand separated from me, he separated from me. He stood there looking at me as I began to lustfully yearn for his touch.

“Answer my question baby.”

Fuck. He was right. I missed his touch, his kisses, his praises, his cock, his entire being.

“Y-Yes. I missed you so much Yuta.”

He smirked, coming back to me. “Sorry for that princess, I’ve been rather neglectful of you. I’m sorry,” he said, kissing down my neck until he reached my mouth.

His tongue entered my mouth, playing with mine. Our kiss was intense, filled with want. This was something not only I, but what we both needed. Our kiss deepened even more until I ended up back on the bed on Yuta’s lap.

His hands roamed over my back in delicate touches, until they ended up back on my ass. I moaned into our kiss when he smacked it. Soon, Yuta pulled away from the kiss—our saliva connecting—and stared at me with lustful eyes, eyes of an animal ready to pounce on its prey.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, and so I did. He began unbuckling his belt, his cock springing out. It was already hard, leaking with pre-cum. “Suck.”

I looked up, his hand reaching to grab my hair, pulling me closer to his cock. I sucked in a breath, I wanted nothing more but to get him inside my mouth.

“I don’t have all day,” he reminded me.

I started kissing his cock, tip to base. Then licking him as slowly as possible, making him year for more. “Fuck. You- take it like you always do slut.”

I decided to stop teasing him and took his cock inside my mouth. He’s too big. The tears pooled in my eyes quickly. “Shit. That’s my girl, taking me so well,” he groaned when he felt the sensation of my moans around his cock. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and started bobbing my head up and down until he relaxed his grip on my hair, allowing me to take him out. I went into a fit of coughing, and my jaw was starting to hurt.

“Done already?” Yuta teased. I glared at him, “You nearly choked me with your fucking dick.” He laughed at my statement. “Take off your clothes,” he said, when he finished laughing.

One by one my clothes were gone. His hands came in contact with my breast, fondling them and pinching my nipples.

“Such pretty tits,” he said. Then next thing I knew his cock laid rested in between them. He squeezed them together as he thrusted in between them, his pre-cum allowing easier movement. The more he thrusted, the harder and faster he went.

Yuta fucked my tits until the ropes of his cum painted my face and tits. He swiped a finger over some cum that splattered on my face, bringing it to my mouth. I swallowed every single drop he gave me.

“Open up your mouth princess,” he said, when I finished taking in his cum. I opened it, and even stuck my tongue out. With another movement his cock buried itself in my mouth again. This time though he didn’t move me, so I started bobbing my head up and down his shaft, my hand following along. I swirled my tongue around his tip, earning a moan from him.

“Just like that,” he said, stroking my hair. He was close again, so I continued my movements on his cock. Finally then he exploded inside my mouth, the white ropes of his cum filling up my mouth once more. He slid his cock out and gathered the cum that had slipped past my lips, and pushed it back in.

“Such a good girl,” he said proudly. “Swallowed every drop right?”

I nodded, “Please… I need you, I want to cum too.” I pleaded with the man, I was so soaked, I felt it on my legs and thighs.

“Come up here then baby, lay down for me,” he said, patting the bed. “I’ll take care of you.”

I did as he said, laying down while he got on top of me. He spread my legs apart, a smile appearing on his face. His fingers slid down my cunt at a slow pace. He then brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. Yuta let out a satisfied groan, “Always tasting so good.”

“Please,” I whimpered.

He looked at me, descending in between my legs. He spread them apart, and placed them on top of his shoulders. “Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere baby. Sorry, I neglected you for so long, but don’t worry because we’ll take care of this,” he said, kissing my clit.

His tongue then darted out, licking a strip up and down my cunt, repeating it over and over. I squirmed at his touch. He drank up all my juices like a starved man, a man deprived of water. I gripped onto his hair, pushing him a little further in.

“Fu-Fuck right there,” I moaned, when his wet muscle intruded inside my cunt. He added to the intensity when he brought his thumb and began circling my sensitive clit. I was close to cumming, just a little more. “I’m gonna cu-cum!”

Yuta’s tongue went out, causing the sensation to be lost. Fuck. “Then cum baby, you deserve it, don't ya?” Soon his fingers came to replace his tongue, plunging in and out of my cunt while his tongue now lapped and played around with my clit. Yes this was what I needed. A couple more thrusts from his fingers, and I came all over his arm. My chest heaving, trying to catch some oxygen. It was too good.

“Good job baby,” Yuta said, kissing my temple. “You ready now?” he asked.

“Ye-Yes please put it inside.”

“Get on all fours then,” he says. I flipped over, my hands and knees on the bed, awaiting him. I felt as his hand fondled the flesh of my ass, before he landed a hard smack on it. I yelped, not expecting that. I turned back, and was met with Yuta stroking his cock while looking at my drenched cunt. He moved in closer, I felt as his tip touched my cunt.

“So tight, so wet. You feel so fucking good,” Yuta muttered, as he pushed further inside me. I felt the delicious stretch of his cock inside my pussy, and how it reached me deeply inside.

Once he was all in he wasted no time. Yuta thrusted into me like a wild beast, going at an uncontrollable speed and pace. His cock was so deep within me that I felt so full already. The sound of our skin slapping and my moans echoed in the room. I turned my head back, and was met with Yuta’s lustful eyes. He looked so drunk of pleasure.

The grip on my hips was sure to show up bruised tomorrow. My eyes rolled back when his tip kissed my g-spot. We just started but I was already so close to cuming.

Suddenly Yuta’s hand tugged on my hair roughly as he continued his excruciating pace. My tongue lolled out, he took it as an opportunity to spit in my mouth. I swallowed it unconsciously, I was too high on the pleasure to comprehend what I was doing.

“Such a good slut,” he said, letting the grip on my hair go and thrusted even harder. His hand once again came in contact with my clit, pinching it until I finally came undone. My orgasm passed through me. I clenched around his cock, erupting in groans from him. “I’m cumming,” he said and unleashed once again. His hot white cum painting my walls white this time.

I barely had time to recover before he said, “Ride me.” I looked over and Yuta was already head against the headboard awaiting for me, his cock still hard. I weakly crawled over, placing myself on top of him. I grabbed his cock, and pushed myself down as his cock entered me once more.

Once I was in I began moving. Up and down, his hands guiding my hips. Slow, then fast, slow, then fast, slow, then fast. I kept this pace up, but it began to feel not enough. So I started bouncing on him even fast, my hands gripping his shoulders. I kissed his lips, melting into the pleasure he was giving me.

I didn’t stop, until I began growing tired. “Let me help you,” he says. Yuta took over, using the grip on my hips to plunge into me. My tits bounced all over his face, until he no longer could resist the temptation and took one in his mouth. He sucked on my breast, then swirled and flickered my nipple. I was approaching my next orgasm, and clenched around him. He detached himself from my nipple with a pop, “Cum for me baby.”

One thrust, then two, and three. The knot in my stomach unleashed, I came once again on his cock once more. But it didn’t stop there, Yuta had yet to cum. Luckily it didn’t take long. Yuta came after a few more thrusts, I probably milked him dry today.

We stayed in that position for a while, trying to catch our breaths. Yuta hugged and soothed me, gently kissing me. “Let’s get us cleaned up,” he said after a while. He walked us over to our bathroom, placing me on the tub as he ran the water. I was growing drowsy, the sex had tired me.

Once the water was done running, he placed me inside and joined in. I didn’t know what happened afterwards as my eyes shut closed, falling into a deep slumber.

the next morning.

I tried shuffling to turn the other way, but something heavy was preventing me from doing so. I stirred my eyes, trying to get them to focus. Once they came into focus the sight in front of me made me widen my eyes.

Yuta lying beside me…

Typically the guy would be gone by now. ‘Was he running late?’ I thought. I shook him lightly, softly repeating his name. His eyes stirred, until they finally opened. He smiled.

Yuta smiling in the morning?!

No yeah perhaps I was still dreaming. I pinched myself, and when I felt the pain I knew this wasn’t a dream.

I finally decided to speak up, “What are you doing here? You’re usually gone by now.

He looked at me, his face softened. “I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, pulling me even closer. His embrace felt so warm and comforting.

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting like an asshole lately. I should’ve been prioritizing you over anything, you didn’t deserve that baby.”

I looked at him, my eyes watering. “Don’t cry Y/N, it aches my heart,” he said, wiping the tears that had started falling down my face.

“I love you so much. You are the most beautiful woman in this world, and with the most beautiful soul too. I am so very lucky to have you Y/N.”

Oh fuck. His words made for more tears to come streaming down my face.

“I love you Yuta, I love you so very much. Thank you for your apology, Thank you for understanding. I love you,” I said, as I caressed his cheek.

“I love you so much more.”

© jhdyuiee

24.03.26

[rrxnjun]

i felt younger when we met | n. yuta

nakamoto yuta was your hero. as the lead singer of the rising punk band takes you along with him on his journey to stardom, you realize that you never knew heartbreak could taste so sweet.

PAIRING: nakamoto yuta x fem! reader STARRING: lead singer! yuta, guitarist! doyoung, bassist! johnny, drummer! mark GENRE: rockstar au, band au. angst, suggestive. WC: 17k (17.630) WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of alcohol, weed and hard drugs, yuta and his band actually played the warped tour (canon!) pls somebody tell me yall get the reference, cheating and breaking up

PLAYLIST: honey - l'arc en ciel ; i felt younger when we met - waterparks ; your power - billie eilish ; motion sickness - phoebe bridgers ; guys my age - hey violet ; praha/vídeň - calin ; drugs - cheridomingo

A/N: oh yall are gonna HAATE this one. thank you arden @zhongriot for brainstorming with me about this it was greatly appreciated <3 growing up is realizing doyoung was actually the only decent one and that jaechan was right. also the original title of this wip was honey so sweet bc of the honey cover just so yall know lol

I. honey, so sweet

The last few tones of a G chord resonate through the garage, the platinum blond’s raspy voice fading out into silence as you watch the band in front of you with stars in your eyes, breathless and with your ears ringing only slightly due to the noise that’s been happening for quite some time now. Feeling yourself clap and squeal at the little show you just finished watching, you’re brought up to your feet as you jump around enthusiastically, the sound of the thick sole of your boot against the ground waking you up only slightly from the weird state of euphoria you’ve been in until now. 

You’ve known Yuta for quite some time now, but this was the first time he let you watch his band practice. Everything you’ve known about the music he plays was through the headphones sneakily passed to you when you had a night shift at the diner, or from the voice memos he’d send you very early on in the morning when you were supposed to be asleep, and everything you’ve known about his band members was through his words shared in the comfort of his car seats or the benches in the park. You’ve seen Mark once before, when he had late dinner with Yuta while you were working at the diner downtown, but your interaction didn’t go further than a polite greeting and a boyish grin sent your way from the charming drummer. 

It’s only natural that everything about the late night feels ecstatic to you now. The tones of electric guitars and the rhythm of the drums making your heart beat faster than before, Yuta’s sharp, yet hearty vocals calling to you like sirens in the middle of the ocean. Tonight’s one of the few nights you don’t have night shift at the diner– since you usually take all Friday night ones; you get paid more for them and with your schedule at school, you can’t afford to work more night shifts throughout the week– and Yuta took that as an opportunity to invite you over to his garage to listen to his band play. The lead singer made eye contact with you throughout each song, and you felt yourself flush at the thought that the words coming out of his mouth might have been addressed to you, written about you, adrenaline soaring freely through your veins. 

“That was amazing! Wow, like,” you throw your hands up, at a loss for words, “I literally couldn’t believe my ears.”

“You expected less of me, babe?” Yuta grins at you from his place at the microphone stand, taking a step back from the device to put away the guitar hanging around his neck. You watch his movements intensively, eyes scanning the outline of his biceps and the loose hems of his jet black shirt, the platinum white hair falling into his eyes. “I thought you already knew what we were made of when I let you listen to our songs back then.”

“Well,” you sheepishly hum, “it’s different to hear it live.”

The singer snickers, shrugging to himself. “Told you to prepare yourself.”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you compliment the man, eyes watching the rest of the band as they put their respective instruments away. And again, you don’t know these men that well– you’re not as familiar with them as you are with their frontman, since you haven’t spent much time around them just yet– but there’s something joyful in the bassist, Johnny’s smile when he meets your eye before he puts away his guitar into its dark blue case. 

Their band– Neo zone– consists of four members. Yuta, your friend, plays the guitar and sings. He’s the frontman of the group and also the person that founded the band; at least that’s what he told you. He met Johnny at college– both of them majoring in Finance before they decided to drop out in their sophomore year– and soon after, he recruited his friend to be the bassist for his band. The two of them met Doyoung, their lead guitarist, at a concert of an underground band some years ago through a mutual friend Taeyong, and they all hit it off so well that when the thought of a band first came to light, Yuta wasted no time in chatting up the charming male for the position. And lastly, their drummer Mark– he was the youngest of them all, the most quiet one, and from what Yuta told you, he met the man through his younger brother. The two of them were friends at college, so Mark spent a lot of time over at Yuta’s house, and he knew that the male could play the drums– so after a casual conversation over a beer one evening, here they were.

“I’m heading home,” says the drummer, waving at the rest of the group, “I have a thing I’m supposed to attend with Jaehyun today.”

“Aight,” Yuta hums, nodding, “good job today, Markie. See you next week!”

The male disappears out of the rusty garage in no time, and with him follows the tall one– Johnny– saying he has a morning shift at the store he works at tomorrow, excusing himself out of the after-practice hangout. That leaves only you, Yuta and Doyoung in the room, and while you’d like to get to know his friends and bandmates better, you’d be more satisfied if either all of them stayed behind, or if the only one who stayed was anyone but the lead guitarist.

See, you don’t know Kim Doyoung that well. All you know about him is that he’s a year younger than Yuta and that he’s painfully good at what he does. You also know that he has a sharp jawline and even sharper eyes, which he gladly lands on you whenever he hears you talk, and that motion makes you self-conscious and insecure on most instances. He also has a sharp tongue, which you learned not that long after being first introduced to him this afternoon, and while you don’t know what you did to get on the man’s nerves so much, you figured it’s for the best to interact with him as least as humanly possible if you wanted to spare your feelings and not get yourself hurt.

“Today was good, but try getting over the last song on your own again,” Doyoung offers to his friend, watching him with cold eyes. Yuta makes his way around the room and takes a seat next to you on the dusty, maroon sofa, his legs spreading wide making your eyes drift towards his lean figure. You watch the exchange silently, picking at the skin of your cuticles anxiously, hoping for it to be over quickly.

“The Departure?” Yuta assures himself.

Doyoung nods as he hides his guitar into his case as well, handling the instrument with utmost care. “You went a little off-beat in the last part.”

“Got it, chief,” Yuta jokes, saluting the man, a lazy grin overtaking his features. “Wanna grab a beer and stay over for a bit?” he asks, the question making your insides heaten up with anticipation, stinging a bit of an anxious fear.

It’s almost as if the guitarist feels that you’re afraid of his presence– it’s not like he scares you, to be exact, you’re just slightly intimidated by the serpent-like male– as he meets your eye before he turns towards the frontman. “Nah,” he shrugs, “I’m good. Maybe next time,” he adds, taking the guitar case off the ground and heading towards the door.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“Try not to fuck the kid on the couch, right? We sit there sometimes,” Doyoung snickers before he’s off, his raven bangs bouncing up and down when he skips out of the old-smelling garage. The remark stings you a bit, the harsh words, although you hate to admit it, feel like salt thrown into a fresh wound, having you chew on the inside of your cheek as you listen to the door close behind the male, leaving you alone with Yuta.

The male next to you clears his throat, easing the tension in your muscles when you look up at him and see him smiling softly at you, a twinkle in his eye. “What?” he asks you, sensing that you’re feeling a little down.

“It’s- it’s nothing,” you nod to yourself, not really wanting to be as vulnerable in front of your friend. You treasure Yuta more than anyone else, since you always somehow feel like your souls are connected on a level you haven’t felt with no one your whole life, but sometimes, you feel a bit shameful to admit to your worries in front of him. To the male, the world is his sea, his place that he swims through with passion and enthusiasm. He doesn’t seem like the type of person to worry about what your friends would think of him, no matter how bad it could be. He doesn’t seem like the type of person that would understand you if you worded your anxious feelings out loud, the type of person who’d reassure you without making you feel foolish. 

Still, somehow, he sees right through you. “Don’t worry about Doyoung. He’s got a stick up his butt on most days, it’s nothing to have with you,” he says, offering you the gentlest of smiles, poking your cheek a little when he sees you pout.

You heave out a sigh, but offer the man a loop-sided smile– the kind you fake, but hope the receiving side is satisfied– watching him as he scoots closer to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. The scent of his cologne hits your nose and you feel yourself easing into him, the gesture somehow protective and affectionate in your eyes, but the proximity still makes your heart thump fast against your ribcage. Taking a shaky breath through your nose, you find yourself staring intensely at his face.

“So you’re saying you enjoyed hearing us play?” he asks you, tone of voice kitten-like, yearning for praise. He sounds coy, confident, but still searches for hearing you say it out loud. Sometimes you think he enjoys listening to you talk about him. It makes him feel good when you flutter your eyelashes at the male in the middle of the diner and tell him you love the way he sings, it makes his ego grow when you gasp at all the right parts and compliment the lyrics in the chorus. And you don’t think it’s a bad thing– you think you’d do the same if you were in his shoes.

Hushed voice, you nod eagerly, grinning. “Yeah,” you agree. “I also enjoyed seeing you play,” you muse, watching as the satisfied look on Yuta’s face grows and his excited eyes gleam with more intensity. 

“Did you?” he teases, head ducking closer to you, the proximity making your breathing catch in your throat. You bet he knows about the effect he has on you by now– you bet he realizes that each time he talks to you with that tone, the flirty hint of it in his voice, you feel weak in your knees, ready to fold for him. You bet he is aware of the fact that you watch him all the time, eyes glued to his confident figure, amazed at the way he moves around the garage with his guitar, tinted with a hint of jealousy when the girls that go eat at the diner at the same time he visits you on your night shifts ogle him and he sends some a shameless wink. You’re almost sure he knows about the dreams you have of him at night, about the fact that you fantasize about him writing songs for you and singing them on stage, letting the world know that your feelings might be reciprocated. 

The idea makes you cave in on yourself. “Yeah,” you breathe out, feeling heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“That’s good,” he hums, “wanna hear a little secret?” he asks, eyeing you with a glimmer in his eye. You hum in response, eager to be let in on the confidential information. “I wrote the last song about you,” he whispers. “Maybe I’ll release it one day.”

The sentence startles you, the comment makes all sorts of warm gold sprawl around your stomach, the tips of your ears burning and the nerve endings on your fingers tingling from excitement. “Really?” you gasp. You never imagined having a song written about you. You never imagined someone caring enough– never imagined having someone sing to you, about you. Sure, you fantasized about it happening, almost a little foolishly and childishly, but you never once dared to think of the fantasy as true.

Yuta laughs at your composure. You bet you look small in his eyes. “What? Are you shy about it, pretty girl?” 

“No,” you peep, averting your gaze from him and aimlessly searching through your surroundings, watching the unmoving garage. Your eyes glue to the white wall in front of you, ignoring the fact that Yuta’s face is only an inch away from yours, your hands now clammy as you rest them in your lap.

“It seems that you are,” he grins, “you don’t have to be, though,” he notes, a finger hooking around the bottom of your chin, a gentle hold making you turn your face towards him, eyes locking in a dangerous blink. 

Gaping, not breaking eye contact– too afraid to break the spark– you wait for what’s about to come, welcoming it with open arms. The air around you gets thicker and the silence becomes overbearing, you find yourself counting each white strand that falls into his eyes, when the male leans in to you, the sudden shift making your eyes flutter close on themselves.

It happens, the moment you’ve been dreaming about; the moment you’ve wanted to experience ever since you first met the male, all real and only yours to live over and over in your memories– Yuta kisses you, gently at first, lips playing with yours in a way that makes the soft sense of nervousness flutter like butterfly wings in your stomach. Your shy hands grip the front of his shirt when he deepens the kiss, makes it more firm and urgent, teeth clashing against each other in the messy cacophony of your souls, a sound of a heavy breath flying into your ear as the male grips your jaw and angles your face the way he wants it to, testing the waters with a bit of tongue.

You invite him in, parting your lips and letting him explore, letting him win the battle for dominance– not that you even wanted to be the one in charge in the first place– and although you feel a little overwhelmed, a bit too lost in the moment, you find yourself moving from your place and straddling his lap, the hands that were once cradling your face falling off and gripping your hips, keeping you right where you are. 

When you feel your lungs being knocked out of all oxygen, you pull away from the male, eyes locking with his swollen lips, and you feel a bit satisfied with yourself– having him like this, eyes blown-out and staring at you like you were the only thing in the whole entire universe that mattered right in this moment. There’s something about the wrinkles on his shirt from how you’ve been gripping on it, about his flushed cheeks, that makes you feel proud of yourself. You did this to him, you smile, you are the reason why he looks like this.

Pressing your forehead against his, eyes still staring into his deep, dark orbs, the singer breaks out into a boyish grin, shaking his head in disbelief, wanting to bring himself back to the present moment. “So I’ll take it as my pretty girl will come watch me play more often, right?” he hums.

A fluttery feeling erupts in your chest, warmth spreading all the way to the tips of your fingertips. “Your pretty girl?” you ask.

Yuta nods, snickering to himself. “My pretty girl,” he mumbles, and before you get a chance for a rebuttal, he pulls away an inch, cradling his neck up to press a peck to the middle of your forehead. 

The adrenaline, the smell of his cologne, the excitement seeping right through you and to the space all around– you never knew Yuta would taste this good. You never knew he could taste this sweet.

II. the rush of adrenaline, I'm not scared to jump in

The smell of burned oil and grease fills your nose as you make your way through the kitchen, figure skipping through the whole diner in irregular intervals during yet another one of your Friday night shifts. Taking the plate filled with chicken nuggets, potatoes and ranch dressing, you offer a quick smile to your coworker Jaechan as you walk out of the back, ready to serve the food to one of your regulars. 

As you finally get out of the heated and humid place, back to the main dining area that has air conditioning on, your eyes catch with a certain someone waiting for you at the pult, a grin settling onto his features when you light up at noticing his presence.

“I’ll be right with you,” you say to him as you pass his body and walk over to one of the tables in the corner of the room, smiling at your customer when you give him the plate. Your steps are lighter and more enthusiastic when you get back to Yuta sitting at one of the tall stools, his face still adorned with a soft smile. The male watches you as you work, and you feel warmth envelope your insides. 

“Weren’t you supposed to have practice tonight?” you ask him, settling behind the pult. There aren’t many people in the diner right now, and the work during the night is slow– you kind of despise the fact that you’re open 24/7, but that’s what you get for working at a diner– so there’s no issue in you chatting away with your friends that come visit when you have the time. You always make sure to do your job well and put the customers first, so your boss never really complained. 

“It’s over already,” he says, “we got over the songs quite quickly,” he notes, seeing you nod and smile at his response.

“That’s good,” you say, “I’m glad. Do you want something? Fries? Coke? On the house, obviously,” you grin, making the man eagerly nod to your question, eyes lit up in joy.

“Just a glass of coke is fine,” he says. 

You turn away from him for a mere second, taking one of the clean glasses to your hand and then walking a few steps to the right where the coolers are, taking out a glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Offering the drink back to your boyfriend, you watch him as he pours the black liquid into the tall glass, the two of you enveloped in a comfortable silence. The diner doesn’t play music after 10 PM, and somehow, you’re glad. It gets kind of annoying to listen to the same few songs on loop the whole night– because the speaker system is old and doesn’t have an AUX input, you have to listen to the same 3 CDs over and over again the whole year– and so whenever Yuta comes to visit you during your night shifts, the silence only adds to your sense of intimacy and comfort with the man.

“Was Doyoung less snappy today?” you ask, watching the male grin and shake his head at your question.

“A bit,” he admits, “not too much, though. Don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he’s been a real bitch.”

You hum at his response, eyes tracing his features. “Maybe he’s stressed about something,” you propose, and you don’t really put much meaning into your own words– you don’t know the man enough to know how he reacts under pressure, nor do you really care– but the man in front of you only squints his eyes in thought, shrugging.

“Could be it,” he agrees, “I mean, there’s a lot happening with the band right now, so it would be only natural,” he says, making you furrow your brows at him in question. You weren’t aware of anything big happening– maybe the news were recent, you didn’t know, but judging by the fact that you’re pretty updated on things concerning the band, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, folding your hands at your chest and leaning on the counter, your face now closer to Yuta’s– god, you’ll never get used to just how beautiful this man is in your poor eyes.

The singer grins to himself, acting innocent. “Just… some stuff,” he says.

“What is it?” you ask again, this time with a coat of persistence in your voice. You don’t want to say it out loud, but you’re getting kind of worried– Yuta doesn’t usually hide things from you. Hell, you’d even go as far as saying that you are the first person he comes to when something happens, no matter if it’s good or bad, and with the suspicious way he’s acting right now, your mind can’t help but wander.

“Nothing,” he peeps, taking a sip out of his glass, making you sigh and roll your eyes at the male. You point your finger to the middle of his forehead, poking him– his head lulls backwards a little, making you heave out a soft giggle– before you squint at him in annoyance.

“Come on,” you huff, “you’re not gonna tell me?” you pout, mastering your best attempt at puppy eyes– something inside of you tells you that no matter how stubborn Yuta is, he’s kind of weak for you when you look at him like that– and the man only snickers at you as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I will,” he admits, smiling at you. The gesture has you soften a bit, your muscles losing their previous tension, because come on– if he’s smiling at you like that, there’s no way the news could be bad– but before you get a chance to pry him about it, the ring above the door makes a sound and your eyes trace the figures of two girls, both a bit older than you, smiling at someone in particular.

And that someone isn’t you– of course, why would anyone smile at their server, am I right? – that someone is Nakamoto Yuta, the man sitting in front of you, and you’re already familiar enough with the two girls to know what’s about to happen next. 

See, you are aware that Yuta is attractive. Hell, you blushed under his gaze when you met him in this diner for the very first time, his hair back then raven black, falling into his eyes. You’re painfully aware of the fact that you’re not the only one who finds him beautiful, but there’s something about the very obvious gazes and giggles the girls who frequent the diner send to him that has your stomach turn, making you see red and feel very obvious green, and no matter what you do or try to tell to yourself, you can’t battle the feeling out of your veins.

The scenario is one you’ve seen before– the girls giggle out as they arrive, sharing a knowing look, before they pass the pult you two are standing behind, sending very obvious looks to Yuta as they reach for the table in the corner. They greet him with their soft, honey voices, they say “Hi Yuta!”, because he’s known around the town– everybody knows the name of the rising band’s lead singer, everybody wants to take a glimpse of him, shoot him a flirtatious smile, because once he makes it big, you can tell yourself you knew him, he knew you, he looked at you and said hi back. Yuta looks at them and grins, sends them a wink, greets them with his raspy voice that says “Hi ladies,”, and it makes your stomach growl, it makes your gaze harden, but most importantly, you feel acid on your tongue when the man in front of you sends them his usual wink.

Clearing your throat as all goes exactly how you remember and expect it to go, you watch as Yuta looks back at you with an innocent smile, not really minding that he told you you were his pretty girl just last week, not really caring that now, his actions have very different consequences. Back when you were uselessly pining over him, you knew your jealousy was foolish– you didn’t really have a reason to feel possessive over the man, because he was very clearly single. Now, things have changed, though, and you kind of expected his behavior to alter around the girls– the girls that are a few years older than you, a few inches taller than you, a bit more mature and a bit more pretty.

“Something’s wrong?” he asks you, face coy and feline-like. You glare at him, knowing he’s aware of what you’re implying, but still, he does nothing to apologize as he only giggles at you and leans in, pecking your lips. 

“Everything’s peachy,” you mumble, shaking your head as you take the menus from the counter, ready to serve the customers. 

As you’re about to exit the pult and pass your boyfriend, he grabs your wrist and spins you so you face him, making you watch as he downs the last remains of the Coke in his drink, offering you another smile. “I’m gonna get something at the gas station real quick,” he muses, “I’ll wait for you in my car after you get off?” 

Sighing, still acting a bit annoyed at his behavior– but knowing, sensing that you already forgave him the moment he spared you a single glance– you nod. The male pulls you closer to him, sending another kiss, this time firmer, to your lips, and if he wasn’t in control of the situation, you know you’d get too lost in the moment, too distracted to do your job– but before you know it, he leans away and stands up from the tall chair, pats your bottom and walks over to the front door.

Watching as he disappears behind the glass, laughing to yourself when he waves at you and blows you a kiss, you shake your head as you walk over to the table with the two girls sitting at it, their mood not as bright as it was before, and with a victorious smirk, you realize, with a hint of joy in your heart, that they’ve been watching the exchange.

The singer waits for you in the parking lot, his figure leaning on the 2007 Volkswagen golf he sometimes drives you home in, and although it’s already 4:45 AM (your shift ends at 4:30, but you have to count up the register and change before you go), you find yourself walking over to him with a pep in your step. The platinum white falls into his eyes as he grins at you, reaching his arms out once you���re close enough, pulling you into a hug. 

You and Yuta never really hugged much. You can’t say you dislike the change. 

“How was the rest of the shift?” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close to his chest. His arms feel almost possessive, making you feel secure, and something about the whiff you get of his cologne makes your head spin a little when he lets go, watching you as you walk over to the passenger’s side and get into his car.

“It was okay,” you admit, shrugging, “not busy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he nods, getting in as well and fastening his seatbelt, putting the car into reverse and slowly driving out of the parking lot. The radio is turned off at this hour– a thing that rarely happens in Yuta’s car, because he always has to have music playing in the background of his life– and the silence envelopes you in an intimate, comforting atmosphere.

Hence, why you ask the crucial question that’s been bugging you the whole night. “What did you want to talk about earlier?” you mumble, the tone of your voice light and coated with tiredness. You’ve been up the whole day, since you have classes in the mornings, but now that you know there’s something Yuta’s been keeping away from you, you know you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep even if you tried, overthinking making your mind too busy to lull you into the dreamland.

“Are you up for a drive? I’ll tell you and then drop you off at dorms,” he asks, eyes locking with yours for a split second before he focuses back on the road.

Humming, you agree with his idea. You give him some time while he takes the turn that goes out of the city and towards the ring road, tracing his actions with your hazy, half-asleep eyes. The car takes a steady speed, one that’s neither alarming nor too slow, and Yuta’s palm easily takes a hold of your thigh, the steering wheel now being operated with only one of his arms. The affectionate action makes you feel heat in the tips of your ears and on the highest parts of your cheekbones, gaze shifting away from the male next to you towards the empty road. Everything about the things you’ve been dreaming about– the subtle touches, the glances, the pet names– makes you shy away from the man. It’s not that you don’t enjoy it, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t, but still– the novelty of it all still surprises you, keeps you on your feet.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit before proceeding, “you know how I told you we now practice more often than we used to?” he asks, eyes peering at you with expectation, waiting for you to answer. You offer him a tired hum, too sleepy to really master up anything else, and when it reaches his ears, he takes it as his lead to continue.

“Well, it was for a reason… at our last gig, there were some scouting people, or whatever you call it… and I didn’t tell you before, because it wasn’t certain and I also don’t really know how these things go– y’know, that’s Doyoung’s thing, sorta– and I also didn’t wanna sound silly if things didn’t work out,” he explains, deep voice resonating through the low hum of the engine, keeping you awake, “but things did work out and we got signed to a label.”

Yuta gives you a minute to process the information. He doesn’t say anything for a bit, only waiting for you to reply back to him– to react, in any way, really– and when he doesn’t get any words out of you, he looks at you with a look so fragilely expecting that you almost want to coo at the male and hold him in your arms, tell him you’re just as excited as he is, because it’s the truth, and you are; you just can’t really find the right words to express so right now. 

“Wow,” you heave out, half-lidded, something warm and proud bundling up in the depths of your chest, “that’s- that’s awesome,” you mumble, watching as the male next to you visibly relaxes at your response.

“Yeah,” he nods, suddenly more energetic than before, and you chuckle at the realization of just how important your opinion was for him– even though it shouldn’t be, really. It’s always been his dream, and what you think of the matter shouldn’t be any of his concern. “So they heard us play and listened to our songs and stuff, and they said we can record an album somewhere towards the end of the year, but they said we gotta promote ourselves a bit first, so…” he freezes a little, chewing on the bottom of his lip.

Suddenly, he seems nervous again. It’s a strange sight– you don’t often see Nakamoto Yuta so worried about the opinion of other people. You don’t often have the privilege to see the singer so open and so vulnerable, so easy to break. It only happens with stuff important to him, you think– the band is always his priority, and you’re more than happy that he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves and strives for. Hand slowly reaching for the one that’s resting on your thigh, you interlock your fingers with him and squeeze his palm in a reassuring manner, as if to tell him that he doesn’t have to be afraid, that you’re his biggest supporter, that you’re always here for all the news– good or bad.

“So…?” you prob him.

“So,” he clears his throat, smiling at you when he gets reassured, “we’re going to tour this one festival. It’s only for a couple of weeks, and it’s around the country, so we don’t have to fly out and all, but… I’ll be out of the city for a while, is what I’m saying.”

The confession makes your stomach churn in fear. Suddenly, you’re painfully aware of Yuta’s worry about talking to you about the topic. Somehow, you understand him completely. Ever since you met Yuta, you haven’t gone more than three days without seeing each other. You two are like puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, always searching for the other pair when it’s not in its place by your side. Your relationship is very fresh, very new, and although you know your bond is stronger than the distance, you can’t help but feel a bit of worry in the tips of your fingertips, in the pit of your stomach. And also, there’s this silly feeling– small, but yet so overbearing– that comes with the image of not being close to Yuta for weeks, of not being able to see him every day and find the light in his eyes to get you through the week. There’s this silly feeling of missing him, of yearning for him to be there with you every minute and every second of the day, and hell, sometimes you miss him even when he’s away for a day, and you don’t know what you’ll do if it’s gonna be weeks, a big, nasty thought that’s both unreal and too realistic prickling your brain– how will you even survive when he’s not by your side? Without Yuta, you’re nothing. No one.

Still, you’re not about to ruin this for him. You’re not about to act sad, or act disappointed, because you’re not, at the end of the day. At the end of it all, you’re aware that this has always been his dream. You are happy for him– you’re ecstatic. And that’s exactly how you’re gonna react.

“That’s awesome, Yuta,” you muse, and you’re glad the tone of your voice stays genuine, “that’s big news. I’m so happy for you,” you say, seeing as the male next to you breaks out into a boyish grin, excitement spreading into every inch of his body, fingers tugging at yours to bring your interlocked hands into his lap. 

“It’s gonna be over soon and then I’m right back by your side,” he hums, and you shake your head at him.

“I’ll wait however long it takes,” you disagree with his statement, “don’t you worry. I’m gonna cheer for you every night.”

The road in front of you signals a turn back into the city, Yuta’s car naturally and smoothly driving back towards the center of life. You subtly hear your partner talk excitedly about all his dreams and all the visions he has of the festival tour– how he’s going to have the time of his life, how the boys will make it big, how he can’t wait to show everyone what they’re made of– and although you’re happy and content, the buzzing excitement of his voice does nothing to keep you awake in the late hour. You feel a peck pressed to the back of your hand, your sleep-filled eyes meeting with his, when he shakes his head at you in disbelief.

“We’re almost at yours now,” he hums, “I’ll wake you up in front of the building.”

Smiling, you nod. Somehow, you drift off with thoughts of full crowds cheering for Yuta, with thoughts wishing for him to make it just as big as he’s always dreamt of. You battle your own worries away, telling them you’re silly for thinking that things will change between the two of you when he’s away, writing them off to be your own unreasonable anxieties. 

Things won’t change, you repeat to yourself, and if so, only for the better.

III. a little bit of California with a little bit of London sky

Life has stilled into a pleasant, comfortable routine for the two of you. You admired just how easily Yuta fit into your daily schedule, just how easily he managed to get used to the cycle of your days, and the knowledge makes you that much sadder to let him go. You go to class from Monday to Friday, snatching mostly the morning ones this semester, which is a thing you’ve grown to be appreciative of, since it means you have time off in the afternoon for your shifts and hanging out with Yuta. On Friday evenings, you take the night shift and have your boyfriend drive you back to dorms when you’re off, and on Sundays, you and Yuta go out to eat in your favorite sushi restaurant downtown as he talks to you about the events of the whole week. He talks your ear off with his excitement, sometimes not even giving you a chance to speak yourself– which he apologizes for on most days, and you’re not mad at him, because truly, you understand– telling you about how practice is going and how their new manager, a thing they haven’t had before, is keeping everything in check for when the festival tour happens. 

You went to listen to them practice one more time. You don’t really dare to go close to the garage anymore, since Doyoung has not grown warmer to your presence, but you still enjoyed yourself as you realized that their mutual passion only made them perform better. 

And with days going by slowly like this, you almost don’t notice when it’s time for Yuta to leave, and suddenly, you’re standing in the crowd of the first show of their first festival tour– the thing that’s supposedly going to make their career take off– as they play songs you know like the back of your hand by now for thousands of people around you in your hometown. Something about the first stop of the tour being your hometown made you feel a bit unsettled– isn’t it always the other way around? Aren’t you supposed to reunite with your lover while he plays his last show back home? But then you realize that it’s a festival, and not their own tour– they aren’t as big to have one themselves yet– and you’re understanding of the logistics. They can’t all play the last show in their hometown.

You brought your roommate Aeri along with you to the show, both of your outfits matching in shades of black and red as you make your way towards the front row, making sure you have good enough of a view to see your boyfriend on the stage. There’s a nervous pep in your step when you wait for the band to arrive, the knowledge that your roommate has never seen Yuta before; you wonder if this is how he felt when he was introducing you to his bandmates all those weeks before, and if so, why he didn’t tell you about it.

Murmurs of the people in the crowd fill your ears, and you watch them with a horrifying realization that you don’t seem like you belong here– so out of the general aesthetic of the crowd, making you feel not cool enough, not punk enough, not good enough to be by the side of someone like Yuta– but before you get a chance to really vocalize your thoughts, there’s a sound of a drum coming from the front of the stage that makes you turn your head forward, watching as Mark grins at the crowd with something you’d call a nervous, yet excited smile, starting off their gig with an up-beat song.

“They’re kinda good!” you hear Aeri scream into your ear, and something about the compliment makes you relax. This is a good thing, you think– she doesn’t hate it, which means she probably won’t hate the members of the band themselves either. 

Once Yuta walks on the stage with his guitar slung over his neck, playing the chords you’d be able to name by memory– having your boyfriend repeat them to himself for a few good minutes once when you came over to his house and he was practicing the song by himself– and even though you wouldn’t be able to play it, you’re sure you’d recognize this song even if you were woken up in the middle of the night, slightly sleepy and still out of it. The crowd cheers, and you find yourself smiling in a sense of euphoria. 

Jumping around with the rest of the population, you get lost in the music. Their set plays out for a good hour and a half, combining cover songs and their own originals, the sun setting with the sound of their eclectic guitars. There’s always something about concerts that makes you lost in time, not really register the way it flows by and leaves you unknowing in the spiral. You didn’t even realize it– you don’t think you even fully registered the experience of seeing Yuta play live on a stage for the first time– and it’s over and you’re catching your breath, feeling your ears ring from the noise that’s been there for the last hour or so and now isn’t, everything around you muffled and a little bit hazy.

“Let’s go, we gotta catch them in the back,” you hurriedly mumble into Aeri’s ear, the girl following you with excited steps as you drag her around the crowded space. Yuta told you he is leaving as soon as the festival ends so their van can drive over to the next city as soon as possible, and since they were the second to last to go on, you feel a threatening bubble growing in your chest.

There’s a group of girls waving at the band leaving off stage, and you pray that you can somehow catch Yuta before he has to walk over to their van.

You catch a glimpse of the platinum white bangs when you jump around and try to see them, and as your eyes meet, the singer breaks out into a smile before he turns towards the rest of the band, waving at them and telling them that they can go and that he’ll find his way back in a bit. The gesture warms your heart, a sense of relief settling onto your shoulders. 

“You were amazing!” you holler as you get towards the metal gate that keeps the artists away from the crowd, your body getting into contact with the cold material as you throw your hands around your boyfriend’s neck, grasping him harder than ever before. His arms reach around your waist, squeezing out all of the air in your lungs, as a laugh bubbles out of his chest and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

“I was singing the songs for you, babygirl,” he hums into your ear, heat rising to your cheeks at the sentiment. When you pull away visibly flustered, Yuta laughs at your face, making you swat his arm in an act of playfulness. “You must be Aeri!” the man notices your roommate tagging along, smiling at her with his welcoming, warm smile. 

The girl nods at him, greeting him almost a little too politely. “Yeah! I heard a lot about you, so I’m glad Y/N wasn’t lying, y’know,” she giggles, and you roll your eyes.

“See, I would never lie to you,” you snicker, and as you put your arm on the metal gate to steady yourself, you feel warmth cover it as Yuta’s own palm envelopes it in a sweet gesture that still surprises you whenever it so effortlessly happens, but also puts you at ease all in one minute. 

“I liked the drummer,” Aeri muses, making Yuta laugh at her.

“I’ll let him know,” he salutes, and with that, he turns back to you with wide eyes, a thousand glimmering stars behind them making you admire just how beautiful and full of life the man in front of you suddenly looks. It tugs at your heartstrings– it’s only the first show and it’s already gone so well, he was born for this, you think, and even though it’s difficult, you suddenly feel like letting him go will be so much easier after the sight, because you’ll be doing it with the knowledge that it’s the best possible thing for him, something you would never be able to give to him if he was stuck with you back home.

“It went exactly how we wanted it to go, it was- it was so great,” he sighs, the crowd behind you suddenly disappearing and grouping around the front of the stage again, signaling that the next band is about to play and finish off tonight’s stop, “thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, you know,” you shrug, gazing into his eyes. There’s a lot of noise around you– the sound of the people talking and cheering behind your back, the beat of the drums, the shuffling of feet– yet, you feel like in this moment, everything else tuned out, everything around you disappeared for a second and left only you and Yuta in the big place, eyes and hearts for each other.

“I’m gonna–”

“Don’t say it,” you hush him, chewing on the inside of your cheek in nerves. You don’t want to hear it– you don’t want to hear him say it, because then, it would make it feel more real, more raw. You wanted to name the sensation when it comes to you, not have it in your brain before you even get a chance to get it, but Yuta shakes his head at you and sighs.

“I have to say it.”

“No, you don’t,” you giggle, amidst a little sadly.

“I do,” he nods, “because it’s true. And you deserve to hear it face to face, not over the phone,” he says, and you heave out a sigh at his words.

“Fine,” you grant him permission. Get it over with.

He shakes his head at you in disbelief, his hair bouncing in the motion. It makes you want to reach over and brush back the damp locks, put the wet strands into their place, but you don’t– and why you stop yourself is a question you don’t get to ask. “I’m gonna miss you,” he completes, and you nod.

Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes, and you promised yourself you’re not going to cry when Yuta goes– something about it feeling childish, too overly dramatic for a fact that he’s gonna be away only for a couple of weeks– and that’s exactly why you didn’t want him to say it, why you didn’t want to hear the words before he’s miles away and talking to you through the phone, because crying seems foolish in this moment. It seems stupid, dumb, dramatic, because tonight’s a good night– one that should be celebrated– and you feel like you’re ruining it.

“I’m gonna miss you more,” you muse, choking through the tears, battling away the heat in the corners of your eyes and begging that no tears actually fall down your cheeks– you could handle tearing up, but crying was a bit too much– but when the man softly scoffs at your state and brings you towards his chest, you feel them escape and fall freely, wetting his sweaty shirt more as you hold him closer, trying to hide into his body.

Who knows? Maybe if you hug him hard enough, you’ll be able to fit into his skin so he could bring you with him. Maybe you won’t have to be apart. 

“Don’t cry, you dummy,” he sighs as you push yourself away from him, trying to laugh through the pain that’s hitting you in your gut right now, praying hard you can ease the situation, “I’ll be back in no time,” he says, wiping at your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs– one of the only fingers that aren’t calloused with the force he plays on the guitar– the action so tender you swallow in on yourself.

His voice is as soft as it can get over the loud music, and you nod at him, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth so you can stop it from trembling. “Come here,” he hums, tugging you into him once more, but before you get a chance to hide your face into his chest, the male leans towards you and kisses you on your lips, a firm, sweet contact with the chapped surface.

When you pull away, he goes in for another, a starved man wanting more, and you try to remember the imprint of his lips on yours so you don’t miss it on lonely nights, so you can remind yourself of it whenever he’s away. 

There’s an arm on his shoulder when you pull away from him, a tall figure tugging him backwards, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you recognise Doyoung telling your boyfriend that it’s time to go, we gotta get on the road soon, and you’re left aimless and lost in the crowd, the hollowing feeling in your stomach only deepening once Yuta nods at his bandmate and turns to you again, smiling.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, hating the fact that you can barely see him over the tears, but not really caring enough to try to stop them now. 

“I will,” he reassures you, hand coming up to your hair to pet it, a soft laugh escaping his throat. “I gotta go now, baby.”

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay,” he repeats, taking a few steps back from you. You watch him, his figure skipping away from you, when he turns and hollers over the loud set. “Love you!”

You don’t get a chance to react before he disappears out of your sight. You don't even get a chance to say it back after hearing it from him for the first time, and something about the fact brings countless worries to your chest. Still, you chant to yourself– nothing’s gonna change. And if so, only for the better.

IV. no matter where you go, somebody follows

Navigating through the foreign city with the hood pulled over your head, the plastic bag full of take-out hanging loosely from your hold, you squint at the buildings around you and sigh in relief with the recognition of your surroundings– you didn’t get lost, despite your biggest concerns, and you’re at the parking lot behind the venue, multiple buses parked right in front of you. Jogging through the space, your sneakers hitting the pavement in a sound you find satisfactory and calming to your nerves, you reach one of the older buses parked in the corner of the parking lot, the windows dark and the vehicle painted in a chipping, rusty white color. Still, it’s a tour bus– an upgrade from what Yuta and his band departed in from your hometown just three weeks ago– and you feel a sense of pride swell inside of your chest at the sight. 

Yuta’s band has been growing successfully and steadily– just like his new manager thought would happen. Their songs are catchy, their fanbase is growing in amount, their exposure is getting bigger on social media and some of their songs even play on the radio. Sure, you wouldn’t call them radio hits– it’s not like your parents or your professors would recognize the band or know the lyrics if you showed them the tune– but it’s still something, and even that something feels tremendously big in your eyes.

The decision of skipping school for a few days and coming up to visit Yuta on his tour was spontaneous. It came to you after you missed him particularly much one night, going to sleep without his call– he apologized a day later, telling you he’d been too busy to talk– and after you counted up the money you saved up from working at the diner, you realized you can afford going on a little getaway to meet up with your lover. Yuta was delighted to hear about your plan and even got you a free ticket to the festival, and after watching him and his band play, you decided to get McDonald’s as a form of a late night snack. 

You expected your boyfriend to follow you, but he didn’t. It was okay, though– he was probably tired. Traveling both gives and takes a lot from you, and while Yuta was given a thousand opportunities over the past few days, his energy has been slowly receding. You understand– as his girlfriend, it’s your job to.

Knocking on the door of the bus– and hearing the ruckus coming from the inside, making you gaze at the darkened windows in suspicion– you get inside after the driver opens the door for you and nods at you in acknowledgement. The tour bus is kind of old, again– Yuta isn’t at a point in his career yet where he could afford the latest gadgets– but although the lights aren’t neon and the space isn’t big and modern, it still serves its purpose. It has a functioning bathroom in the front, with a surprisingly working lock on the door, and it also has a kitchen area that’s big enough to host a couple of people behind the efficiently placed table. The bus has a corridor with bunk beds on the sides and a small bedroom in the very back of it all, which is used by their manager Sangyeon. 

Usually, the bus stinks a bit. You don’t really know what it is, but you can’t really get the bad smell out no matter how hard you try. Now, though, the bus stinks even worse– and although the smell is a tad bit different than the one you’re used to (even though you’ve only been here for 2 days, with the next day being the morning of your departure back home, to your ordinary life), you can’t quite put your finger on the cause. 

You walk over to the kitchen area, the plastic bag full of food still loosely placed in your grasp, and the noise gets even louder now, the laughter and the loud music over the speakers mixing together in a way that has your head pounding similarly than to what you experience when you stand front-row during the festivals, and when you put your head through the entry to the small area, the sight in front of you has you gasping. There’s a bit more people in the tour bus than you’d expect– you mentally count the heads, realizing there are four unfamiliar faces in the small crowd– and that’s what initially makes you shy away and want to hide. See, your experience with Yuta’s band mates wasn’t the brightest– that’s why meeting another potential friend group of your boyfriend has you shrinking away in worry.

“You’re back already?” Mark asks you, your presence noticed by the man first. You nod at him, offering him a tight-lipped smile as you hold up the plastic bag in the air, showing him its contents. He smiles at you, but doesn’t pay you much attention after, instead focusing back on the commotion in front of him. 

Disappointment washes over you when you realize your presence hasn’t been acknowledged by your boyfriend– mainly because everyone else at least offered you a nonchalant nod of a head, Doyoung included– and that’s when you sigh to yourself and move closer to the small table, ready to put the food in the middle and try to join the conversation. You’re taken by surprise when you realize it’s harder to find an empty space on the crowded surface, bottles of beer, shot glasses and a bottle of tequila settled all around, a potato chip bag thrown in the corner, almost falling off. An ashtray in the middle of it all, almost full to the brim, something white and messy lined up on the other side of the table, folded arms falling to the surface with a loud thud that have you snap your head around and watch Yuta as he settles his chin on them and closes his eyes and then slowly opens them in a hazy blink, pupils almost as big as his whole iris.

This has you stopping in your tracks, this has you slightly wake up in a cold sweat, making you too aware and alert of the situation. 

Your eyes scan the surroundings again. The four men at the table seem a bit older than your boyfriend, and you’re sure you saw them on stage a few hours ago, playing their own set. The bottles of alcohol are almost empty, the ashtray filled with cigarettes, your gaze finding the source of the weird, sweet, yet earthy smell when you see a bag of dried weeds loosely thrown behind a beer bottle, rolling papers settled on the side. Finding the platinum blonde head again, the line of white substance close to Yuta’s elbow, chills run down your spine when the male looks at you with big eyes, his smile slightly out of it, yet amazingly satisfied.

Suddenly, you’re terrified. You’re scared and afraid, and you wonder how things could have gotten so out of hand in the time you were gone. Surely your trip to McDonald’s didn’t take more than a few minutes, or did it? 

“What’s all this?” you ask Yuta, your voice hush, yet loud enough to be heard over the music.

“What?” he asks, voice coated in a blissful sweetness that has your hair stand up, goosebumps rising all over your body. Frustrated, you run your hand through your hair, seeing that your interaction doesn’t have many viewers comforting you only the slightest.

“What’s all this, Yuta?” you ask, pointing everywhere around the place, but mainly to the substances found on the small, dark-wooden table.

“We’re just having fun, baby,” he says lazily, grinning at you from under his eyelashes. Were the circumstances given to you different, you’d admire his features– his flushed cheeks and his strangely starry-glazed eyes, the satisfied and comfortable smirk playing with his flush lips. But now, you feel shaken-up; a strange kind of terror you’ve never experienced before, and frankly speaking, one you wouldn’t imagine experiencing even in your worst nightmares.

“This is fun to you?” you ask, scoffing. “Is- what happened here?” you keep dumbly asking, not finding any more coherent thoughts in your brain that could be expressed by words. Somehow, the whole situation is painted right in front of you, yet, you don’t think you have it in you to describe it or admit it to your brain.

“Why are you freaking out?” he asks, reaching out one of his hands to you to hold your hand, but you shake it off with a different sense of vigor. 

Why are you freaking out? Is he out of his mind? Does he not understand the consequences of his actions; the full implications of everything that’s going on right in this moment? Are you overreacting? You find it hard to think that’s the case.

You scoff at him, not really believing you’re in this situation right now. Something in you feels a bit shameful to be acting like this, now that you’ve been called out on it. You’re in a battle of opinions– one side telling you to drop it and let him live his life, because he’s an adult and he knows what he’s doing, the other one shouting at you that this is not okay and you need some space to breathe and get away for a second. Yuta said he was having fun, but to you, none of this was even close to funny.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, moving away from him and sending him a gaze you hope signifies the turmoil of emotions on your insides right now, your hands shaking as you cross your arms on your chest. You’re not met with the desired reaction, though. Somehow, Yuta makes the matters even worse as he scoffs at you, shaking his head and pointing it towards the group as he mutters something under his breath.

“And you’re being unreasonable.”

The argument makes your blood cold, your eyes widen. You’re being unreasonable? In your eyes, you’re being ignored. You’re being put on the very end of the ranking of his priorities, and you’d understand it if the first one was held up by his career, his dreams– you’re not willing to battle for that place with alcohol and drugs, though. You’re simply not.

Storming out of the area, suddenly feeling like there’s no air in your lungs, no oxygen in the whole planet Earth, you run through the small and crowded place, making eye contact with no one as you run out without a plan. You bump into a slender figure as you plan on escaping the vehicle, right in the place where the stairs down are located, crossing your paths– one going in and the other one out. The person smells of cigarette smoke and when you look up to find a raven-haired boy staring at you with a glare, the plan of leaving sounds even more urgent in your head.

“Where are you running off to?” Doyoung asks, voice laced with indifference.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” you snap at him, trying to push through the small corridor past him so you can get out and get some air.

“Saw something you didn’t like?” he mocks, laughing at you.

“Doyoung-”

“Those places aren’t for college kids like you, Y/N,” he snarls, huffing out air as you push against his chest to get him out of the way, “this is how this world works. Get out before it gets you too, kid.”

V. you're the only one I'll miss when I'm gone

The coldness of the liquid spilling down your throat makes you cool down noticeably, your fingers working on the lace around your waist to loosen up the apron you’ve been wearing for the last couple of hours. You sit on one of the tall bar stools, facing the diner with your back, as you scroll through your phone and look through all your social media. You’re working another one of your night shifts, the diner surprisingly empty as you allow yourself some time to just sit around and do nothing– it’s not like you have anything else to do or any customers to serve in the first place.

Checking your messages– and finding none, much to your dismay– you move over to other apps, opening up Instagram with a swift tap of your finger, eyes tracing the posts appearing on your phone screen. There are some from your favorite music artists and some from your friends from high school, and you’d usually find an Instagram story from your boyfriend’s band right at the very beginning of the little reel on the top as well, but ever since they got signed to a label, their page is hands of their manager Sangyeon, so the account is no longer as active and as unserious as it was when Yuta was the one behind the posts. 

Scrolling down a little, your eyes zero in on a post of the mentioned account– a carousel of professionally-looking pictures of the band on the stage, taken from multiple angles and in perfect quality, colors most likely edited and lightning adjusted so they look as nice as they can. You were in the crowd just a week ago, and although you only left your visit recently, you already miss seeing Yuta in real life, playing and talking to you, existing by your side. 

You haven’t heard from him much since the day you left. Still shaken up from the sight in front of you that one night, the band’s manager let you sleep in the only bedroom of the tour bus before you took off to the station in the early morning, having Yuta groggily press a kiss to your forehead as a goodbye, telling you to stay safe as you travel, before he went back to sleep. The events of your last night with him went unnoticed and unmentioned and you’re not exactly sure if it’s for the best– you two barely call nowadays, since your schedules don’t align, and it’s kind of hard to talk about it over a text, especially when the conversations are short and dry, like they’ve been for the last few days. 

Zooming in on the picture, fingers pinching the screen to take a closer look on Yuta’s face, you chew on the inside of your cheek, letting your thoughts run a thousand miles an hour. What did you do wrong? Or was he just busy? 

That must be it. He’s in a band. A touring, rising band. He must be busy.

“What are you staring at?” you hear a male voice coming from your right, making you jump in your seat. Eyes landing on Jaechan, your coworker from the kitchen, you watch as he throws a damp kitchen towel to the counter and takes a seat on the chair next to you with a sigh. You shrug. The male takes a peek over your shoulder, craning up his neck to get a closer look, a hum escaping his throat at the sight. “Is that your boyfriend? I heard he’s in a band.”

You find yourself humming in agreement at his question. Jaechan nods at you in acknowledgement, resting his head into his palms, eyes zeroing on your stoic face. “Did something happen between the two of you? You don’t sound too happy talking about him right now.”

Sighing, you put the phone down, the screen still on and displaying the professional picture their photographer took, showing Yuta with his platinum blonde hair damp and all over the place, the singer in the middle of a song gripping his microphone tightly, veins protruding due to the notes he’s singing on his sweat-covered neck. Once again, you find yourself shrugging. “I don’t know. He’s just… not really talking to me?”

“Did you two have a fight?” 

“No,” you shake your head, “not really. It’s not like he’s not talking talking to me, it’s just that he’s not doing it as often as he used to before,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip as you tear your eyes off the picture and glue them to your companion instead, seeing as the older male hums, pressing his lips into a tight line. 

“He must be busy,” you say, not really knowing who you’re saying this for. Is it to prove to Jaechan that your relationship is completely fine, that there’s nothing shifting in the dynamic you had with Yuta, or is it to reassure yourself, try to manifest the thought into life? You’re not quite sure at this point.

“Well, he texted you a lot more often before,” he points out, “how busy can a singer really be, you know what I mean?”

“There must be something that’s taking up so much of his time,” you sigh, the male in front of you scoffing and rolling his eyes at your naivety. 

Jaechan argues with you, and something about his sentence makes your mood even gloomier, your composure shake further. “I mean, what does a singer even do? He plays a gig in the evening and then he’s lazing off the whole day, it’s not like he’s recording an album or something, do you feel me?”

To this, you shrug. What does Jaechan even know about this? He’s never dated anyone in a band before. He’s never been in one either, so he can’t know how this life works. Maybe he’s just jealous that your significant other is famous and his is not (because it’s non-existent, just for the record), and that’s what’s making him say all these things.

“What do you know?” you scoff.

Jaechan looks at you with a softer look in his eyes now, the black bangs falling into his forehead serving as a sort of a curtain when he smiles sadly at his next words. “Enough to see when a guy gets bored, Y/N. If he had time before, he just can’t be assed now. I’d hate to see your heart break over him,” he says, each word like a sharp knife to your heart, a stinging pain erupting into each crevice of your body. Your mouth opens to reply to him, to argue that he is clueless, he is snide, he is acting like a know-it-all, when the bell above the entrance rings and a small group of teenagers enters the diner.

Before you get a chance to stand up from your place to re-tie your apron and serve them, Jaechan, who doesn’t usually serve– since cooking is his job around here– beats you to it and pats your shoulder as he goes. “I’ll get it.”

You’re left sitting at the bar, eyes bearing into the screen of your phone, gazing at Yuta on the other side of the country, almost begging him with your eyes to text, to call, to do something, before the screen darkens and your phone eventually locks, the time running out already.

VI. and he holds me like a woman

Prepared for another night of staring at the ceiling, not even the sound of Aeri’s snoring present to lull you to sleep with its monotonicity, since the girl went out and stayed over at her (as she calls him) sneaky link’s place, you settle into your bed sheets and pull your blanket close to your neck. Unlocking your phone and scrolling through social media, planning to do so until your eyes are droopy enough that you don’t have much time to overthink in the late hours of the night, waiting for sleep to take you, your finger moves through all the different apps, begging for your brain to stay occupied. You have to treat yourself like you’d treat a little child while trying to get them to sleep– except you don’t watch Cocomelon, instead you settle on the latest episode of your favorite podcast– and it starts working eventually, until you’re woken up with a knock to your door, cursing at the person behind the wall for disturbing your routine, because now, you’ll have to do it all over again.

Sighing, you stand up from your bed, lazily walking over to the door of your room– sometimes, you despise the fact that your dorm layout looks like the corridor of a hospital wing, with rooms all over the hall and a common kitchen and a bathroom at the very end, since the living space for you and your roommate Aeri is a 5x6 square meters with little to no storage room– but this time, you thank the god for this fact, since it means that nothing is too far out of reach and nothing can get lost in the small space. You think of whoever might be behind the door– is it Aeri? You doubt it’s Aeri. She usually doesn’t back out of a hook up, and even if she did, she’d text you about it before– she has her own set of keys as well, so she wouldn’t just knock. 

Is it your dorm mate? Yeji from three rooms down the corridor sometimes comes over and asks you if she can use your frying pan– since the ones in the common kitchen suck and are hardly ever clean– so maybe it’s her. However, you’re not quite sure why she’d want to cook something so late in the evening.

Shrugging, deciding that you’re not gonna dwell on the thought much longer and instead look for yourself, you unlock the door (you learned to do that every night after Ningning, the freshman that lives across the corridor from you, once stumbled into your room at 3 in the morning, drunk out of her mind, because she confused her left and right) and crack it open, shock overtaking you as you recognize the figure casually standing on the other side of the wall.

“What are you doing here?” you gasp, the man with platinum blonde hair snickering at your parted lips and big eyes.

“Visiting,” he shrugs, “I missed you.”

Taking a few seconds to process the situation, you stay standing in your place, a metaphorical loading bar appearing in the middle of your forehead. Yuta shakes his head at you in disbelief, taking a step closer towards you. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

“I- I am, but-” you stutter, taking a step away from the doorway, watching as your boyfriend walks in as if he owned this place, “who let you in? We can’t have visitors after 10 PM,” you mumble, suddenly aware of the fact that you could get in trouble. 

You close the door after yourself and lock it– old habits die hard– as you watch the male giggle at your shaken composure. “The doorkeeper recognized me,” he announces, “I just had to say I have a girlfriend I haven’t seen in a while living here and he let me right in,” he shrugs.

Humming, you play with your fingers as you walk over to your bed. “So you’re like, famous famous now, huh?”

“Not that famous,” he sighs, “but quite a few people know me now.”

“So I’m dating a rockstar,” you joke, taking a seat on the uncomfortable mattress, watching as the male follows you and invites himself into the sheets.

“Something like that.”

A smile overtakes your features at that, and your room breaks into silence. Something about the quiet makes your skin scatter with goosebumps, the discomfort of his stare making you almost hate the fact that he’s here now, after not talking to you properly for a couple of weeks, but at the same time, you know you don’t really hate it. You love it, actually– the fact that he came to surprise you in the middle of the night, the fact that he’s here, the fact that he thought of you, spared you the time of his day. You love it and you love him and the fact that he came back to you. He came back for you. Only you. That sounds like a prize, doesn’t it?

Still, you feel a bit of a distance in between the two of you, and you can’t believe the fact that he feels further despite being closer in space. Maybe it’s because you can’t blame his lack of words for him being busy now– he’s right in front of you, paying you his full attention.

“How long are you staying?” you ask, picking at the skin of your cuticles.

Yuta averts his gaze from you, looking almost shameful at his reply. “I have to leave tomorrow afternoon,” he whispers, “I left suddenly, but we gotta get back on the road.”

You hum at that, not offering him a vocal reply– you don’t have any words to say to him anyway. What is there to say about a fact you can’t change? You only have to accept it.

“We only have a couple more stops to go. It will take another three weeks or so, and I’m back with you,” he says, this time locking his eyes with you in a sincere gaze, “I promise.”

The sentence has you gazing at your hands, clasped in your lap, nodding. Holding eye contact with him is suddenly hard when you feel just how far away he is from you, in another world, in other circles– and you can’t help but not see yourself fitting those, you can’t help but hate the fact that you’re so far away from everything that completes him as a person now. Maybe you’re a burden now– maybe you’re a nuisance, a baggage he has to carry even though he doesn’t have to, but keeps holding on to just because of a promise.

You remember how you chanted to yourself– believed– that nothing’s gonna change, and if so, only for the better. But you’re not so sure it came true, looking at everything now. And you do admit, you feel a little silly. Both for making the promise to yourself, and both for feeling so defeated when your world is shifting. Because things did change, and you should’ve expected it, and for Yuta, they did change for the better. He’s chasing his dream and everything’s coming out well for him. You should be happy.

You should be happy that he’s texting you less, talking to you less, having less time for you. Because that’s proof of him succeeding, after all. You just wish you could’ve been there to witness it with him.

“It must be so hard for you,” Yuta suddenly hums, leaning closer to you and wiping your cheeks. You haven’t even realized you were crying– you failed to keep your emotions in control– but instead of pushing him away and not showing him just how much the distance hurts you, you only hold him closer, crying into his chest.

His hands caress your hair, smoothing down the strands and providing you comfort, your body folding into his hold. He lays you both on the bed and tugs the blanket over you, strong arms shielding you from the pain. “Are you- are you having fun at least?” you ask, hiccuping through the sobs.

“I am,” he hums, and something about the sentence comforts you, making you fail to address everything you’ve witnessed when you came to visit him and just how much it made you worry, “wish you were there with me, but I know it’s hard. We just gotta hold on and get through this, and it will only get easier as we go, alright?”

You hum, fists bunching up the fabric of his thin black shirt. “Promise me to hold on for me, pretty girl? It’s gonna be okay. I swear.”

Another silent sob accompanied by an eager nod, hands letting go of his shirt and instead sneaking around his waist, nose burying into his chest intaking his scent. “I promise. It’s hard, but the thought of you having fun and chasing your dream comforts me.”

“That’s my sweet girl,” he hums, smoothing down your hair, “now stop crying. There’s nothing to be sad about.”

Nodding, you try your best to relax. He’s right– you were being unreasonable. Silly, even. Everything’s okay and everything will turn out just fine, you just gotta hold on for a few more weeks. Once Yuta’s back, your relationship will go back to normal and things will get better.

Leaning your head back, you press a kiss to his lips. He holds you to his chest, deepening the contact of his mouth with yours, wiping the last tears off your cheeks and placing pecks all over your face. When his lips find their way back to yours, his kisses are deeper, more firm, experience making him smoothly slip his tongue into your mouth to battle with yours, passion dripping off the muscle and tasting just like honey. 

He makes your heart race, just like he did when he first kissed you in his garage, and when his lips smoothly travel down your neck, placing bites and kitten licks to smooth the area after, you let him work his magic. You relax under his touches, you let him unravel you from your clothes, big hands testing flesh, calloused fingers pressing into all the right places. It feels amazing. It feels rewarding– and even though you’ve never done this before, you’re glad he’s your first. It’s good to look back at your first time when it’s done with someone you love– someone that’s admired, older, but still so fond of you. You feel beautiful with his hushed compliments, whispered promises. It’s like you’re running on a high, and you’re not sure if and when you’re ever gonna get back down.

You ache a little when you wake up for your morning class the day after. Throwing on his shirt you find on the floor, taking a seat next to him on the bed and brushing back his disheveled hair, his arm finds yours and tugs you back towards him.

“Stay,” he hums.

“I can’t,” you reply, “I have class in a few,” you explain, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek.

He sighs, dissatisfied, but lets you go. When he chants a goodbye at you as you close your door after with the knowledge that he won’t be there when you come home in the evening, you chew on the inside of your cheek with the crushing feeling of living in a different world than he does. And it shouldn’t matter to you– because he loves you and showed you so last night– but still, it keeps annoyingly eating you up from the insides.

He’s in a rising punk band, and you… you have to get to class.

VII. he used to sing me sweet melodies

The news hit you on a Thursday afternoon, on your way to dorms after your last class of the day. You feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, and so you decide to take the bus– the journey isn’t long, but you don’t feel like walking, and so you slung your pained body onto one of the free seats after pressing your travel card against the terminal to pay for the ride.

Fingers searching through your tote bag, a small sense of victory filling your veins when you finally find your phone in the mess of things, you grip the device and unlock it, deciding to search through social media to pass time and let yourself dissociate. 

A flood of uninteresting posts flashes through your vision as you absent-mindedly scroll through your feed, unfunny memes making you roll your eyes at the absurdity of the jokes, political discourse just making you sigh. After a while, posts from Neo zone update pages that you selfishly and amidst a little foolishly followed quite some time ago start appearing one-by-one on your Twitter feed, the face of your boyfriend smiling at you from fan-taken pictures from the last few stops of their festival tour. It’s been three weeks since you last saw Yuta, and even though you’re glad he’s enjoying his life to the fullest, you can’t help but admit to yourself that you oh so desire to have him back home as soon as possible.

One post in particular makes you stop in your tracks, furrowing your eyebrows as your eyes scan over the headline of an article with your boyfriend’s face clearly staring down at you through the screen. It’s not often that Yuta or his band get interviewed– or at least, it wasn’t the standard before, but you heard from him that he did get an interview from one of the local newspapers right after he got signed to an agency– but it seems that after getting interest from the punk scene during the festival, everybody wants to know more about the lead singer and his friends; press included. The existence of the interview itself isn’t what makes you so startled, though– it’s the headline of the article, each word like a sharp knife to your heart, making you more and more confused.

“No, I’m not dating anyone right now.” Neo Zone’s frontman reveals in our latest article, the title reads, your shaky fingers pressing down on the picture to have the text pop up, making you brace yourself for the impact. You know that the press loves to twist words and put statements into people’s mouths, but you don’t really know how those exact words could come out meaning something completely different– your very much taken boyfriend told everyone he is very much single. Do you not deserve to be talked about, after everything? Is he ashamed of you?

Sighing, taking a peek out of the window to see if you’re at your stop yet– you’re not, and you think you have just the right amount of time to read the whole article before you have to get off. And so you do that– eyes quickly skimming through the words, Yuta’s answers transcribed so perfectly you can almost hear his voice saying the words in your head, the essence of him everywhere, making your chest tighten on itself.

The Seoul-based punk band Neo Zone is picking up everyone’s attention as they take over the Warped tour festivals with their ecstatic performances and amazing stage presence. Their sound is like no one else’s, making their fanbase rise quickly, the fastly growing popularity making a lot of questions rise in the heads of the public– one question in particular mostly in the female side of the spectrum. 

We met with the frontman, 28-year old Yuta Nakamoto, to ask him a few questions about the band’s slow, but steady journey towards stardom, and also a bit about his personal life. Stay with us to get all the answers to questions you’ve been wondering about!

Eyes only briefly reading over the questions that ask about their journey– since you do know how they got where they are now, being there to witness it all; from band practices on Fridays, Yuta’s worried words at midnight over your night shifts, the songwriting sessions they had with Doyoung, where Yuta would send you pictures of his lyrics, asking for advice from his one and only muse, to them getting signed and going from playing local gigs at bars filled with cigarette smoke to venues filled with thousands of fans, all in the course of a few months. There’s only one thing you’re searching for in this article– although you’d read it all anyways, taking your time to patiently skim over each sentence, cheering Yuta on silently, there’s a thing in particular that makes you so jumpy to get to the bottom of the headline.

Finally, you get to it. You can only imagine the voice of the woman who did this interview with Yuta to be annoying, her eyes sneaky and coy as she asked him the question– but you soon catch yourself and sigh at your antics, at disbelief with what you managed to turn yourself into just for attention of a man that deemed you worthy.

“I’m sure a lot of girls are wondering the same thing, Yuta– especially after seeing you play on stage. I mean, you have an amazing stage presence, one that can’t help but attract people. The public– me included– wants to know: are you dating anyone right now?”

The singer laughs at the question, shrugging to himself. The words don’t take long to come out of his mouth. “No, not at all. With how things have been going for us, it’s been really hard to find some time to date, but I’m sure that if anyone shoots me a wink from the audience, I can change my mind quickly.”

The words make you scoff. You rest your head against the seat, your tongue poking the side of your cheek, when you notice that you’re at your stop– resulting in you scrambling for your things and practically throwing yourself out of the bus so the doors wouldn’t close on you and drive you away from the bus stop you need to get off on. Yuta’s response keeps repeating in your brain– ‘it’s been really hard to find some time to date’ –  at least he’s not lying about that, you think. 

And yes, maybe you should’ve understood his motives. Maybe he wanted to protect you from the hate, maybe he simply wanted to give you your privacy, but still– something in you breaks at being denied, at being hidden, and that burning, green feeling has you dialing Yuta’s number, waiting for the singer to reply.

It takes him a few seconds to pick up the call– you expected it, since it’s an usual occurrence now, with your texts going unanswered and calls mostly ignored, if taken, then either after a lot of ringing, or being returned to you after a few minutes when you get through to the voicemail. Still, you’re relieved when you hear his voice on the other side of the line, a little low and groggy, but still familiar.

“Hello, my love,” he says, and the pet name makes you equal parts warm and furious. So now you’re his love? What about the time he did the interview?

“Hi,” you breathe, walking down the sidewalk to your dorm building. 

“Why are you calling?” he asks. Do you need a reason to? He seems to be asking this a lot lately, but now that you actually have a reason is when the question hurts you the least.

You hum into the phone, finding the right words to say. Something inside of your gut is screaming at you, telling you just how silly and childish you’re going to sound– at just how demanding and clingy you’re going to look. But still, you can’t help but let the words slip past your mouth. “I was just wondering… about the stuff you said in the interview,” you say.

The male is silent for a little, not really responding to your worries. When he seems to gather that you’re not going to explain– and you don’t have to, since you’re aware that he knows what you mean by your subtle prompt– he talks to you with lightness in his tone, something akin to playful teasing in the reply that has you feeling stupid, so stupid for calling him. 

“About that? Y/N… you know you don’t have to worry about the two of us,” he says, laughing, “it’s just… I couldn’t just tell them I’m dating. My manager said I couldn’t, since it may damage the band’s image. I have to stay desirable to keep up the interest.”

You’re silent. So he did it for the band. Not your privacy, not your safety. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

You find it in yourself to hum at his explanation– no matter how unsatisfactory it was, no matter how it made you feel even worse about the situation than before you called. It’s okay, though– you know that his band always comes first. You can’t tarnish his dreams like that. If a secret is what you have to be, then you’re more than okay with that, if it means Yuta gets to shine like the star he’s always been in your heart.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” he asks. “I have to go now, if you don’t have anything else.”

“That’s- that’s all, yeah,” you mumble, sighing as you walk over to the dorms, opening the door with your student ID and slipping inside. 

“Okay,” he hums, “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

No I love you, no how was your day, no I miss you. No I’ll see you soon, no I can’t wait to see your face, no I can’t wait to hear your voice. It’s okay, though– he must be tired.

VIII. broke, but gave all money to an airline

The next time you allow yourself to travel to see Yuta (despite all your responsibilities at college, with finals coming up and assignments piling up, making you bring your laptop to work with you and type away to finish up all your essays in between customers, having Jaechan read over the passages when your sleep deprivation gets the best of you and you can’t even recognise if you’re using the correct grammar and punctuation anymore), is on the last show of his festival tour. Something inside of you is telling you that you should go watch your boyfriend’s last gig for the time being, to congratulate him and show him just how much you support him, despite your busy schedule (that he is unaware of. You don’t want him to worry). 

And on top of that, it’s his birthday– the surprise visit to the show is only an addition to the gift you bought him, though. The personalized lyric journal and a box of his favorite chocolates seems too silly of a gift for somebody like Yuta Nakamoto, but it’s all you can afford, all you can give him. Still, you hope the sincerity and love is able to be felt through the action; you hope he realizes just how much you love him and just how much you missed him all those months.

The journey to the last state was long. You didn’t get enough sleep, you felt jittery and anxious, everything in your bones was screaming at you and cursing you for allowing yourself to make such a trip so early after the old one. Traveling is exhausting, you realize– both mentally and physically– when you have to walk distances and flash all your savings down the drain just to get bus tickets, when you have to rack your brain over to not get lost and take the right directions, make the right turns and walk the right distances. You guess you could understand Yuta a little bit better now– you’re not the one traveling somewhere else every night, and still, you feel insanely tired.

You didn’t tell Yuta about your visit. All you texted him the night before was that you wish him good luck on stage today and that you’re proud of him– sentences that get a short-cut response, an uninterested tone. You guess he just got bummed out that you didn’t stay up and wish him happy birthday the first thing at midnight– a thing he did for you when you weren’t even dating yet, the action warming you up so much back then– but even though it broke your heart, you couldn’t blow your own cover. You wanted to wish him happy birthday in person, to his face.

There is a buzz in the tips of your fingertips when you arrive at the festival. You’ve watched countless of clips online, experienced the concert first-hand multiple times before– you’re sure you could recite the setlist and the exact order of the acts playing if you were woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat– but still, you can’t wait to see Yuta perform. You can’t wait to watch the joyful look on his face, the dreamy eyes gazing over the crowd, the raspy voice calling to you like a siren in a love song you were told was about you in the middle of the night, holding him in your dorm bed.

You didn’t stand in the front rows this time. For some reason, you don’t want the singer to know you’re here. You want to watch the show unnoticed, unannounced, enjoying it like every other fan would– except, you’re expecting to meet him after, the way so many girls dream of every night, but never get to experience.

And in a perfect reality, the show ends and you run backstage. The security acknowledges you as his girlfriend and lets you in, smiles at you and pats you on your lower back– go get him, he’s all yours– as you excitedly grin and get ready to finally close the distance between you. In your perfect dreams, that don’t become reality, you’re meeting Yuta and holding him close, chanting whispers at the universe and telling them see? We made it, no matter how many obstacles you threw our way. We made it despite the distance. 

Maybe somebody should’ve told you you were a naive dreamer before you came here to embarrass yourself. Nobody did, though– and so here you are.

“Unfortunately, fans aren’t allowed backstage,” the security says, and you understand him– your relationship is secret, not public, so really, he couldn’t have known you were not just a fan, but his girlfriend (despite still thinking that you are Yuta’s biggest fan, always. Nobody could ever support him the way you do).

“I’m not a fan, sir,” you grin, “I’m his girlfriend. I know anyone could say that, but if you just get someone from the back and tell them my name, they will tell you that I’m his partner, trust me,” you explain, a desperate inkling in your voice.

“I don’t have time for that, kid,” the man says. And it’s fair. He’s just doing his job.

“Please, I went here to surprise– there he goes!” you point towards your boyfriend walking off the stage, his head snapping towards you at the sound of your voice, still recognisable even through the flood of screams around. The man locks eyes with you and you wave at him, a fond smile overtaking your tired face, the flame inside you that’s currently giving you third degree burns of anxiety finally starts to get more subtle when recognition flashes through Yuta’s face, but again– you were naive. Naive to think he would appreciate your visit, naive to think he’d like the surprise, naive to think nothing would change between the two of you, naive to think he wouldn’t get tired and find someone new.

A naive kid.

That’s what you are.

Nakamoto Yuta runs off stage, envelopes an excited girl around her shoulders when she runs after him from backstage. Her hair is longer than yours, her face more mature, her smile similar to the ones you saw all the time at the diner whenever Yuta was around, a flirting spark somewhere in between her pearly white teeth. She kisses his jaw and he grins at her, not bothering to look around. The crowd around you gets silent, but your brain tells you it’s foolish to think everyone suddenly stopped talking– it was just your senses slowly shutting out, your vision getting blurry.

So this was the problem all along, you think.

“Anything else? If you’re done being delusional, you can get lost,” the security spits at you, and you chuckle to yourself. 

Delusional. That hits the nail on the head.

Nodding, you chew on the inside of your cheek as you stumble backwards, running off through the crowd as you try your best not to get your legs tied and fall over. Your vision is hazy and you refuse to look up, too embarrassed, humiliated by the events of the day to show your face to anyone, resulting in you bumping into someone, your figure limply falling to the ground. Sobs make your shoulders shake, all motivation to stand up and move leaving your body when somebody crouches down next to you, a considerate female voice reaching your ears.

“Everything okay, hun? I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched my step,” she says, a hand patting your back, the smell of her perfume filling your nostrils. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

Shaking your head, you refuse to speak. The female considerately sneaks her arms around you, pulling you to her chest. “What is it? You can tell it to a stranger, I won’t spill.”

“Yuta-” you choke out. Embarrassment is finally the least of your concerns.

“What? What about him?”

“I loved him and he– he threw it all away,” you finish, now completely breaking.

The girl rocks you back and forth, hand running up and down your back to get you to relax. It’s strange, since you haven’t even seen her face, haven’t even asked her name– for all you know, she could think you’re just a crazy fangirl, crying for no reason. But the universe has its way of looking out after you tonight– the soul next to you holding you tight, fingers running through your hair. “It’s alright, babygirl. Cry it out,” she says, “he doesn’t deserve you… I know, I’ve been there. That’s a lesson you have to learn, though– you never date a band guy. 

He’s always gonna break your heart.”

EPILOGUE - try not to abuse your power

Yuta Nakamoto was your hero.

He was your everything. He was someone you admired, someone you longed for, someone whose attention you craved for ever since the day you met him for the first time. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a guy that’s in a band, and it’s also not every day that the said guy shows you any type of interest or gives you any type of attention– and in your foolish heart, you took all of that and ran with it, chasing down the adrenaline and calling it love.

You guess it’s never a good idea to date your hero. See, people tend to idolize the ones they admire. People tend to put their heroes on the pedestal and do everything for them, putting them as their priority and disregarding their own needs and interests just to be worthy in the eyes of the other. You were too young to differentiate between healthy love and toxic obsession. You were too young to realize the relationship you had with Yuta wasn’t built on healthy grounds.

Yuta was your hero, yet, he managed to ruin you in a little not over a year. You bet it wasn’t even that hard.

Yuta was sweet. He tasted of honey and adrenaline, of chasing your dreams and running through empty streets with sparkles in your eyes. Yuta was someone older than you, more mature, promising you security and safety that he failed to give you despite your delusional beliefs of having your haven in him. You were young; thinking that guys your age don’t know how to treat you, won’t ever know how to treat you right– being with someone like Yuta was only right in your eyes. You were his fragile piece of pottery, the thing he was supposed to handle with care, and yet, you found yourself shattering at his touches. You should’ve expected it– his fingers were always too calloused to know how to touch anything gently anyway.

And yes, you do feel guilty. You do feel like it’s your fault that you let someone do this to you. You should’ve known better– you shouldn’t have been so childish, so naive. But really, you didn’t know any better. No one ever told you it was wrong. No one warned you. No one told you how it’s supposed to look.

No one told you that you weren’t supposed to spend all your money on plane and bus tickets just to see him for a couple of days. No one told you you weren’t supposed to support him unconditionally, ignore all the bad signs and pay no mind to the way his treatment made you feel worthless. No one told you you weren’t supposed to believe his sweet words, put trust into his empty promises.

It makes you sick, in a way. He knows your freckles, he knows your skin. He knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe, just maybe, you’d still fold under his touch if he dared to get close to you again. You don’t know if you’re strong enough to resist.

And maybe you do know better now, you do hate him for what he did, but you still miss him like a little kid. It’s like you were put on a drug that made you hate everyone and make him the only one you miss when you’re gone. 

You do miss him. You do sometimes look at his social media. You do read the headlines of magazines when his face is on the front page. You do think of him whenever you wipe the counters during your night shifts, gazing at the spot he used to sit in whenever he came to keep you company, almost as if you could wish him back into existence. It’s a weird battle. The strangest type of inner conflict.

Driving down the road, back to your dorm in the car you saved up for, the radio humming lowly to keep you company in the silence, you recognize the first few tones of a G chord, the song sending chills down your spine. You listen for a few seconds, waiting for his voice to start– the raspiness, the strongness of his vocals still making you feel some type of way– before you chuckle to yourself.

You guess he did end up releasing the song, after all.

You sigh. It feels like ages have gone by since you heard the song for the first time. It feels like you aged a thousand since you last saw his face.

It’s still strange to hear him on the radio. He made it big, you think. 

After all, you still wish him well. Somehow, you still think he deserves the glory.

You skip the song.

You park the car. 

You get inside your dorm.

You live your life.

[epinebleue]

bad at love (m) | nakamoto yuta

Yuta has got morals, of course. He knows that stealing is wrong and that one should help others in times of need. In his defense, he didn’t know you had a boyfriend before having sex with you. Therefore, he hasn’t done anything wrong and he’s not a bad person. Calling you up on Sunday morning does make him a bad person, though.

pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader (female)

genre: cheating!au, mature, angst.

warnings: cheating, explicit sexual context.

who do you love (taeyong’s pov) (coming soon)

The first time Yuta sees you, he’s at a party hosted by a friend of a friend of a friend, a guy he has never met. 

The house’s full of drunk and high strangers unable to hold a proper conversation. Not that he wants to talk, anyway. Yuta leans more toward the introverted side. He prefers to sit back and observe, scanning the room until his orbs fall on you. 

There are five other girls around you, yet you’re the one who catches his attention. Your pink velvet dress is so short that it slides up whenever you move, exposing your thighs a little more each time, and although he knows he should stop looking, he can’t. 

You’re just so freaking attractive. 

“Hey, creep.” His friend, Taeil, says, handing him a cold beer. Yuta doesn’t know whether to drink it or press it to his hot cheeks. “You can go and talk to her instead of staring, you know?” 

“She’s surrounded by an army of girls.” Yuta brings the bottle to his lips. “I don’t stand a chance.” 

“You don’t stand a chance sitting here, that I’m sure of.” 

The conversation ends there. He keeps on drinking until his bladder can’t take it anymore. To go to the bathroom upstairs, he has to walk past your group, something that intimidates him. A second later, he realizes how stupid that sounds. What is this, high school? He’s an adult, and he can go to the bathroom just fine. 

His friends nod when Yuta tells them he’s leaving, even if he’s sure that they haven’t heard a thing. The music is loud enough to drown his words. 

It takes great effort to not look at you on his way to the stairs, but Yuta’s weak, so he gives you a quick look. Shockingly, he catches you doing the same. It lasted a second, but you’ve looked at him. He breaks out in a cold sweat. 

Oh God, you have noticed him. You know he exists. 

He climbs the steps two by two, closing the bathroom door once he’s inside. He empties his bladder for a good minute, then flushes the toilet when he’s done. He walks over to the sink, pressing the pump of the liquid soap twice. 

It smells like apples and makes him wonder what you smell like. For some reason, he thinks you smell of flowers. Or maybe something fruity, like peaches. 

He’s about to dry his hands with the towel below the sink when the door suddenly opens, making him jump. Yuta can’t believe his eyes when you burst into the room, holding your purse with one hand and the door’s handle with the other. 

“Sorry, this is the only bathroom in the whole house. Can you believe it?” You say, your voice sweet as honey, closing behind you. “Keep doing your thing, I just need a retouch.” 

The click of your high heels against the floor tiles as you walk to stand next to him ricochets in the walls of his mind. It takes him a moment to realize he’s looking at you without blinking. 

Taeil’s right, he’s a creep. 

Yuta reaches for the towel even though his hands are almost dry. He just wants an excuse to be near you for a little longer. From the corner of his eye, he watches you grab different containers from your purse. You brush your eyebrows and apply mascara. 

Then, you stop and make eye contact with him through the mirror in front of you. 

“You’re staring.” 

Your words snap him out of his gawking. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re staring.” 

You repeat, slower this time.  

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He leaves the towel on the rack and turns, mortified. 

“It’s fine, you’ve been doing it the whole night.” Your words freeze him in place. 

Fuck, he’s so pathetic. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. 

“Stop saying that, I’m not mad.” You point out, closing the zipper of your purse and turning around, leaning on the sink. “Do you think I’m hot?” 

It would be rude to say no, and a lie. But, you’ll think he’s a stalker if he says yes. There’s simply no right answer. He looks into your eyes, which are filled with satisfaction. 

You’re getting off on his suffering.  

“Why would you ask that?” He questions, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. 

“I think you’re hot.” You reply. Yuta doesn’t know what to do or say anymore. His breath hitches when you take a step forward, then another, and another one until you’re pressing your body against his. Turns out you smell of vanilla. “And I like your tattoo.” 

Placing his hands on your lower back seems just right, so he does it. You round his neck with your arms, and Yuta thinks he might be dreaming when you start kissing him. Your tongue tastes like whisky, but it doesn’t bother him. The flavor is as intoxicating as you. 

With your body, you guide him through the bathroom. The back of his knees touch the toilet and your hands fall on his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as you push him down, making him sit on the closed lid. You sit on his boner, and Yuta’s about to faint. 

The hem of your dress hikes up, allowing Yuta to glance at your thighs more closely. He can’t help but touch them, stroking the exposed skin, getting lost in how smooth and warm it is. 

He sighs at the feeling of your lips against his neck, a moan getting stuck in his throat. There’s a silent command in your hands rushing to undo his pants. Yuta’s quick to hook his thumbs on the waistband, pulling down both his jeans and boxers as you stand for a second, leaving him space. 

He thought that the feeling of your core against his hard crotch was amazing, but now that the barrier is thinner, he might simply combust. 

Your sneaky hand closes around his hard dick. Yuta moans against your mouth, looking for your tongue in the dark, biting it as you start moving your hand up and down, using his precum as lube, taking your time to reach the tip, then going back down. It’s torture, a delicious torture. 

Yuta leans his head against the cold surface of the wall, mouth wide open in an attempt to catch a breath. He closes his eyes shut, lost in the pleasure offered by the kind stranger sitting on his lap. 

It hits him then that he doesn’t even know your name. 

Yuta opens his eyes and tries to talk, but you’re quicker. 

“Have you got a condom?” 

He rushes to grab his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, fishing for the spare condom he always carries around. It’s not often that he finds himself in a bathroom with a stranger, but he likes to be prepared. 

Yuta opens the package and proceeds to unroll the condom down his length with eager hands. He wants to ask if you need help, but the question dies in his throat the moment you lift your hips, aligning his dick with your entrance, your free hand holding your green lacy underwear to the side. 

He holds on to your waist for dear life as you lower down on him, the feeling enough to make you both moan at the same time. 

Yuta has had sex before, but it has never felt this good. 

You start slow, rocking your hips back and forth at a steady pace. He holds you down whenever he can, trying to reach further into you, to hit a point that will have you melting in his arms. 

He forces himself to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss anything: how you frown, how you lick your lips. 

You’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You’re the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. 

There’s a sudden change in the pace that causes him to dig his fingers into your sides as you move your hips roughly. Yuta wishes he could just throw you to the ground and pound into you like a madman. 

He’s close, he’s so fucking close, and yet he doesn’t want this finish. He wants to have you over and over until the end of his days. But your chest is starting to shake and so are your legs, and he’s starting to feel your velvet walls tighten around him. 

It only takes a few more thrusts to have you coming all over him, Yuta following closely. It feels like heaven. Heaven is this bathroom and you’re an angel. 

You press your forehead against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. Yuta wishes you could stay like this forever, but, carefully, you stand up, and Yuta has no choice. He stands up, too, lifting his underwear and pants at the same time. 

He still doesn’t know your name. 

The chance to ask slips through his fingers, because your phone rings the very moment he opens his mouth. 

“Hey… Yeah, I’m still at the party. I think I’m going to leave, though, I’m pretty tired…” 

Yuta stands there, not sure of what to do. Should he leave? That would be rude. At the same time, isn’t it rude to listen to other people’s conversations? 

He’s not leaving, he wants to know your name. He decides he will fix his hair in the meantime, combing it with his fingers in an attempt to look decent when he goes back with his friends. 

“No, don’t worry, Nahyun will take me home… Okay, baby, sleep well.” 

Wait, baby? 

“I love you.” You hang up, shoving the device inside your purse. “Sorry, my boyfriend wanted to know if I could get home okay.” 

Yuta takes a while to react. He turns around, visibly shocked. 

“Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Boyfriend as in… partner.” 

“Yes, as a partner.” You place a hand on your hip while Yuta looks for any trace of deceit on your face. He doesn’t find any. “What?” 

“We just had sex.” 

“We did.” 

“And you have a boyfriend?” 

“Are you deaf?” He can’t believe it, you’re actually irritated! “Yes, I’m dating someone.” 

How has his angel turned into a devil so quickly? What are you going to do now? Rip his heart out and devour it in front of his dead body? 

“Why would you have sex with me if you have a boyfriend? What if he finds out?” 

“Are you going to tell him?” 

“Obviously not, but-” 

“Then what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Give me your phone.” Yuta doubts for a second, unaware of where he stands in this whole mess. In the end, he complies. He watches you type something before giving his phone back. Your name shines on the screen, your number below it. “This was fun. If you ever want to repeat it, I’m one ring away.” 

You walk past him, brushing his shoulder on your way out, your smell slightly changed. 

Not only do you smell of vanilla, but of his perfume, too.

He spends the following day locked in his apartment, thinking. 

Yuta has got morals, of course. He knows that stealing is wrong and that one should help others in times of need. In his defense, he didn’t know you had a boyfriend before having sex with you. Therefore, he hasn’t done anything wrong and he's not a bad person.

Calling you up on Sunday morning does make him a bad person, though.

You knock on his door hours later, all smiley. 

Yuta feels like he should show you his apartment, and you play along by asking about certain items scattered around. 

You sit on the edge of the bed when you reach his bedroom, the ghost of a smirk in your mouth and a sparkle in your eyes. 

Yuta wants this time to be different, to be slow. You’re a goddess, and he’ll worship you like you deserve.  

You attempt to grab the belt loop of his jeans, but Yuta pushes your hand away, leaning down to kiss you. A day and a half has passed since he tasted those lips, but it feels like years somehow. 

The longing he has for you is out of this world. 

As he forces you to lie down and settles in the spot between your legs, Yuta starts kissing your neck. Your fingers play with his hair, goosebumps appear all over your body. 

His lips move down, reaching your collarbone. He bites the skin, gently, even if the only thing he wants is to mark you. It makes your back arch, pressing your chests together, and Yuta wonders if you can feel how fast his heart is beating. 

Yuta reaches behind his back to take his T-shirt off and you mirror his actions, your lack of bra taking him by surprise. He hovers over your body again, tongue falling flat against a bud. Even his favorite song is nothing compared to the moans you’re letting out. Your pretty lips are parted, red and swollen from all the kissing, the biting. To kiss you becomes a need. 

His hand travels from your hips to your underwear, which is damp where it meets your core. When Yuta trespasses the barrier, he’s amazed by the fact that you’re this wet just from kissing. You gasp as he gently touches your already sensitive folds. 

You beg him to do something, anything. 

So, he pulls one in. You’re a mess underneath him, asking him for more when he hasn’t even started moving. But he listens, adding two more fingers and pumping them in and out, finding satisfaction in your voice filling his room. 

Being able to touch you isn’t enough. He needs to taste you, too. 

Yuta slides down the mattress, the movement of his fingers never ceasing. His tongue falls flat against your folds, licking up and closing his mouth around your clit. You curse, a hand closing in a fist around his hair, the action fueling his need. 

You attempt to close your legs the faster he licks, the further his fingers reach, but you won’t find him complaining. Your feet fall flat against the mattress, and your hips move up, looking for more contact, looking for more anything. 

“Shit, Yuta, yes.” You can already feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter. “Don’t stop, baby, I’m close.” 

Yuta keeps going, his wrist on fire, his mouth closed around your clit, sucking and licking until you’re a mess under him, a loud moan ripping up your throat. 

The boy stands up to take his bottoms off and grabs a condom from the bedside table that he opens and unrolls on his way to bed. 

You’re on him the moment he’s back, tasting yourself when you kiss him, begging him to fuck you into the mattress. You know Yuta can’t say no to you. 

He stands on his knees, grabbing the back of your knees and pulling you in, watching you squirm in excitement as he slides into you. He moves right away, hoping you’ll adjust to his size eventually, because he loves watching your vagina swallow his dick. 

You’re just as fucked up as he is, he notices when you pull him in, wanting to have him as close to you as possible. Your breath hits his mouth whenever he gives a rough thrust, and you bite his lower lip until blood comes out. 

Yuta kneels again, pressing his hand to your belly to keep you in place, then starts pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow, trying to seize the moment as much as he can. He gets lost in the way his name spills from your mouth, in the way you try to follow his lead, looking for more.   

The view is enough to send him over the edge, his pace becoming erratic and messy, his sole purpose being to make you reach a second orgasm before he finishes. You clench around him and close your eyes, seeing colorful sparks as the knot in your stomach explodes. 

Yuta follows closely, his dick prisoner of your tight walls. He falls forward, so not ready to let you go. 

You leave, but at least you promise to come back for more.

There are two unspoken rules when it comes to your weird relationship. 

Number one, Yuta can’t catch feelings. 

Number two, you don’t speak of Taeyong, your boyfriend. 

He was happy with fucking around twice a week if he was lucky, and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about that other man. Yuta thought it would be easy. 

At least, at first. 

Perhaps it was the guilt starting to weigh up on him, or maybe he was just bitter after seeing all those pictures on your Instagram feed beside him. 

Taeyong’s handsome, Yuta’s not going to lie. He seems cool and laid back. Yuta wonders what you think he’s missing, and at the same time takes pride in that whatever Taeyong is missing, he can provide. 

But if he can provide, why won’t you stay? 

He breaks the second rule on a Tuesday evening. Taeyong is out of town and you have decided to stay for the night. Yuta is so glad because that means sleeping with you after sex. It makes this whole thing feel more intimate, and real. 

Maybe he’s breaking the first rule, too. 

“Do you love him?” 

Yuta expects you to storm out of the room in the blink of an eye, coming at his throat because he dared to ask such a thing. You don’t. 

“I do.” 

Somehow, your answer sinks his heart further. 

“Are you happy?” 

“Do you think I’m not?” 

“You’re having sex with other people behind his back.” 

“Sex is purely physical.” You say, starting to get defensive. “What Taeyong and I have is on another level.” 

Yuta answers before he can even think of the consequences. 

“Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“That’s complete bullshit.” 

“Drop it, Yuta, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You get up, grabbing your underwear and pants from the floor and putting them on. “I thought I had made it clear.” 

“I have the right to ask.” He fights back, rushing to put on his underwear, too. His tone grows harsher the more he speaks. “It’s me you’re cheating with. I’m the fucking third wheel in this fucked up game!” 

You look at him as if you’ve just had an epiphany. Or maybe you’re acting. It wouldn’t surprise him at all. You can’t keep playing dumb now that he has admitted his true feelings out loud. 

“Is that why you’re pressed?” You’re wearing his T-shirt, but he doesn’t say a word about it. He has the feeling that it’ll be the only thing tying you to him after this. “Yuta, are you in love with me?” 

His silence is enough to answer your question. He just stands there, looking miserable. 

“We talked about this.” 

“I know, I fucking know!” 

“Look, the sex is amazing.” You start, and he already can tell how this conversation is going to end. “But it’s not enough. Yuta, we don’t even know each other.” 

“We could.” 

God, he must sound pathetic. 

“Yuta, I don’t want to know you.” He doesn’t dare to look at your face. “I have no intention of leaving Taeyong. You should know that already.” 

You grab your sneakers from under his bed and walk out of the room. Yuta finally breathes out the moment he hears the front door close. 

Yuta knew he would see you again. His friends and you moved in similar circles, after all. What he didn’t expect was finding you on your boyfriend’s lap, laughing about something he’s sure it’s not that funny. 

Taeyong’s even more handsome in person. He’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans, and his green hair shines under the kaleidoscopic lights of the club. Fuck, he hates the guy. He hates how bubbly you seem around him. He hates that you can display your affection for him in public. 

It makes his blood boil, fantasizes with the idea of going over there and telling Taeyong everything, hopefully ruining your relationship. 

He watches you peck Taeyong’s lips before standing up and making your way toward the bathroom. He waits a few seconds, then follows your steps. 

No one’s in the corridor, so he grabs your arm and shoves you inside the narrow space. It’s awfully lit, yet enough to catch the surprise in your face. He quickly locks the door. 

“Yuta! What the fuck?” Your hand is pressed against your chest, which falls as you let out a sigh. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“What are you doing here?” He sounds so angry that even he’s surprised. “What are you doing here with him?” 

“What am I doing here with my boyfriend, you mean?” 

“You knew I was coming here.” He points a finger at you, the venom in his system begging to come out. “You knew, that’s why you brought him. Are you trying to make me jealous?” 

You scoff, smiling sideways. You can’t believe his words. 

“Are you hearing yourself?” You lean against the bathroom’s wall. “Do you really think I want to hurt you that badly? See what I meant when I said that you don’t know me? This is exactly why we can’t keep this thing going.” 

Your words make him come to his senses for a few seconds. He growls, kicking the metal bin in the corner. It makes you jump in surprise. 

“What the fuck are you?” He asks, turning around. You simply raise an eyebrow. “What have you done to me? You’ve driven me fucking crazy!” 

“Don’t blame me for your jealousy!” You snap, taking a step forward. “It’s not my fault you’re delusional.” 

“Is that so?” Yuta closes the distance between your bodies. You look up, holding his gaze. “Am I being delusional?” 

“Yes, you are. So don’t blame me. Accept we’re over and move on.” 

He pushes you against the wall, his hot breath hitting your breath. It awakens something in you, he can tell by the way you look at him. He presses his body against yours, his hand sneaking under your dress. 

You don’t fight it when he moves the thin fabric of your underwear to the side, collecting your juices with his middle finger. 

The action makes you shiver. 

“Tell me this is over again.” 

“If you’re going to fuck me, do it already.” 

Yuta has never kissed you like this, so violently. His mouth crashes against yours, and his teeth scratch your lips, but there’s pleasure in the pain. You’ve never seen him angry before, and you must admit that it turns you on. 

Before you can register what’s happening, Yuta grabs you by your arms and takes you away from the wall, turning you around to place you in front of the bathroom sink, facing the mirror. 

Behind you, Yuta lifts your dress enough to expose your ass. He touches you from behind, making you arch your back only for him to grab your neck and push you forward, keeping your head low. 

The hand caressing you moves away, and you hear Yuta undoing his belt. Next thing you know, Yuta’s burying himself inside you without warning. You try to fight against the hand holding you down, only to fail. It forces you to press your hands against the mirror, trying to find some sort of support. 

Yuta sets a brutal pace that makes you think he’ll break you in half. You’re pressed against the sink, the edge hurting your abdomen. But you don’t ask him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. 

If you had known that Yuta would react like this upon seeing you beside Taeyong, you would’ve forced an encounter sooner. 

The hand holding your head closes around your hair, grabbing a handful and forcing you to straighten your back. You whine as Yuta presses your back against his chest. 

“What would he say?” He growls in your ear, sucking your earlobe. It makes you moan out loud, close your eyes. “What would Taeyong say if he knew that the love of his life is being fucked stupid in a nasty bathroom?” 

Your lips curve in a wicked smile that makes him shiver. But you don’t answer. 

“You’re a horrible person.” He snaps. “You’re evil.” 

“If I’m so evil,” you manage to say in between whimpers. “Why do you love me so fucking much?” 

Your words cut him like a knife. He has asked himself that same question ever since he met you. He hasn't found an answer yet. 

He finds your eyes in the mirror, reading your face. You're close, and so is he. His movements become erratic, but he doesn’t let go of your hair. 

The rough growl he lets out vibrates through you, his cum filling you up to the brim. You feel it slide down your inner thighs when he pulls out, taking your orgasm away from you. 

You turn around, surprised and offended at equal parts. 

“He can take care of you better than me, can’t he?” He pulls his underwear and pants up. “Let him finish my job. Let him taste me.” 

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips. You arrange your panties and fix your dress. 

“You’re pathetic.” 

Yuta grabs the lock in an attempt to leave, but he can’t bring himself to open the door. 

“Delete my number. I’ll delete yours. If I don’t, I’ll come back. Please, don’t make me come back.” 

You swear you’ve never seen anyone as sad as him. 

“I won’t.” You say, pride taking over your voice. “As far as I’m concerned, you and I have never happened.” 

Yuta nods, finally able to unlock the door, stepping out of the narrow room and into the wide corridor. 

It feels like reaching the surface after being held underwater, being able to breathe after being choked. 

But if he feels so free, why does his chest feel so hollow?

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝ YOU DUMPED ME BUT YOU'RE STILL MINE  ❞

⟶ yuta okkotsu x reader

⟶ cw. drabble, hufflepuff!yuta, slytherin fem!reader, TOXIC, ex to lovers, unprotected sex in public, CHEATING, sub!yuta, quickie, whiny cry baby!yuta

⟶ note: not edited at all : P

the feeling was magnetizing, anytime he'd enter the halls you'd see him. even all the way across the rows and rows of tables. he's so noticeable even if he thinks no one ever notices him, he's far too cute. he doesn't even notice the way all the hufflepuff girls gawk at him when he passes them.

even with the abundance of boys you'd shagged day in and day out, it was nothing like him. you'd never admit it to him, no way, you'd never tell him how much you missed him.

your blood boils seeing his pretty face up against hers. her legs over his lap in the dining hall as she kissed him. in the pits of your guts you hoped to notice him flinch or cringe after the kiss, but it seemed like he enjoyed it. fuck.

days go by, and it gets worse for you. the constant amount of sex doesn't do much to numb the pain. it just reminds you of him.

you find him in the library, he's usually there trying to catch up on his homework. he didn't expect to see you, somehow he remembers her schedule. you were usually in class at this point, alchemy.

he gulps, noticing the way you walked straight to him, eyes full of a look he knew too well.

"does she taste as good as me?" his breath is staggered, face flushed looking up at you with cute puppy eyes.

your fingers fondle the collar of his shirt, pull off his yellow tie and revealing his neck to you. he smells like her, "does she smell like chanel? or cheap drugstore perfume."

your hands press into his thigh, while he sat on the table in the corner of the library with his back being pressed into the bookshelf as he shrinks due to your gaze.

your warm hands make him choke on his saliva. tingling and burning closer and closer to his uncontrollable bulge, growing more and more from the mere sight and touch of you. it had been weeks, almost 2 months without you, your words, your face and your touch.

fuck. he misses the way you smell, perfume strong, spicy just like yourself. your nails are pointed, you never used to do them before. you've got a lot more makeup on than usual, lined wings making your eyes look more ferocious, like you were going to devour him and hell, he was going to let you.

"does she suck your cock like i do?" you purred, your lips lingering on his exposed neck. you can feel his pulse throbbing, his hearts racing. it pleases you, your effect on him makes it even more exhilarating. "does she take all of you, does she take you deep inside her throat until you unravel and cum endlessly like i do?"

he whimpers, his lashes feathered at through his submissive gaze. his lips pouted naturally as he shakes his head, admitting what you wanted to hear.

you bite your lip, palming his cock through his pants at this point listening to his soft moans. he tries to keep it down around all the other students who were studying. who knows where this girlfriend of his was.

your lips mere inches from his, brushing hastily against his plumped bruised lips all from the biting he kept doing to make as little noise as possible. he's whining, making noises nudging and pursing his lips towards yours. wanting it.

you give in, planting your coloured lips against him without a care that your lipstick would be all over his mouth by the end of it. the taste of him, you missed it. you angle your head, holding his with your palms deepening the kiss hearing the low grumble that left his lips as you completely engulfing his lips within your own. tongue curling to the roof of his mouth, exploring what you lost.

his hands found comfort around your waist, pulling you in closer. locking you in. he didn't want to let go, fuck, he wanted you to stay here forever.

"does she ride you like this? does her pussy drench your cock, swallow you up like this? does she fuck you so hard that you start crying and begging to cum, does she? tell me, yuta, use your words." his face is twisted so cutely, trying his hardest not to completely cry out in pleasure.

god knows who could hear or see this. could they see the way he's sat on the ground on his ass, you're sat on his lap with your underwear around your ankles and tights ripped at the crotch, getting fucked in your school skirt? maybe, but it didn't matter. they could watch all they wanted.

your hips roll into his, taking his shaft along your walls dragging and pulling. his girth stretches you raw. he's got tears running down his face as groans escape his lips uncontrollably. so warm, so wet. he can't fucking speak.

your lips curl, knowing he's so close and would start begging soon. "use your words, yuta, you used your words damn well when you dumped me for a discount hufflepuff whore."

he hiccups through his breaths. "i'm sorry."

your ass slaps against his trouser-covered thighs, your mixed arousals spreading all over it. "that's not what i wanted to hear."

"sorry," he chokes, "you're right, she doesn't, she doesn't do anything like you."

"i know. baby, i know."

his eyes flutter, looking up at you. the girl he dumped for absolutely no reason but fear. he feared he wasn't good enough for you. but hell, you treated him so well, he didn't even think about his girlfriend, he didn't think of the consequences at all. only of you.

© moongumi 2022. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

[writemekpop]

Situationship | Nakamoto Yuta

Summary: You need to tell Yuta that you're pregnant, but you're worried how he'll react. 

Genre: Friends with benefits AU, angsty, Yuta is cold

Word Count: <0.5k

“Yuta… I have something I need to tell you," you breathed. 

Yuta nodded, his face not betraying an ounce of emotion. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded. “Go ahead.” 

“I’m... pregnant.” You gulped.

Yuta said nothing, his black eyes on yours. “Whose is it?" 

You frowned. “Yours - obviously..." 

Yuta scoffed. “How can you sure? I can’t be the only man you're sleeping with. We never said we were exclusive."

 His voice was calm and cool, each word slicing through you. 

You stifled a gasp.

You watched Yuta’s face shift as he realised what your silence meant. He raised one brow. 

“Oh,” he said. “So there isn't anyone else."

Your cheeks warmed. You turned away, unable to face Yuta’s judgemental gaze.

“I guess that changes things,” he said wistfully. 

You scowled. “Forget I ever said anything. Go back to your millions of other women. I’ll deal with this on my own.” You picked up your phone with shaking fingers. 

Yuta smirked slightly, as if laughing at some internal joke.

You slammed the table with your fist. “What’s so fucking funny?” 

Yuta pushed himself off the wall, and tucked his hands into the pockets of his white jacket. He let out a long sigh. 

“I don’t mind,” he said. 

You frowned. “You don’t mind what?” 

“Being exclusive… with you.” Yuta cleared his throat. “If that’s what you want.” 

"You're... confessing?" you said in amazement.

Yuta shrugged, a smile toying on the edge of his lips. 

Your heart started to flutter. “And what about… this?” You touched your stomach. 

Yuta hummed thoughtfully. “That’s a tricky one. But, I think it’s something we can figure out together.”

You watched as closed the gap between you. You stared into his eyes, deep brown and unrevealing. 

“Y/n…” Yuta was so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Yes?” You could feel your heartbeat quickening.

“Can I kiss you?” 

You nodded. 

Yuta leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips. Your hands curled into his blonde hair as you leaned into him. 

When you parted, Yuta chuckled to himself. He swung his arm around your shoulder and held you to his side. “I could get used to this.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[chatsukimi]

𝕄𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕓𝕠𝕪

you live in a house next to the mountains in Tokyo and there is a magical boy who comes to visit. multi x reader (jjk)

There's a boy outside your window.

You live in a two storey house.

Midnight boy. He's been coming since you were both fifteen. He tells you he's just a runaway, so you let him stay with you one night when he was too injured to walk, but you know better. You've seen how he descends from the mountains, cloaked in a shady black uniform- you almost ask if he is a delinquent, but hold yourself back, several times. His shirt smells of forest. His hair, smooth like moonlight- sometimes with a tinge of blood.

His stories mirror that of a soldier, you tell him. And he stares at you as though shell-shocked.

In the shadows cast by the lamp, the two of you fumble around like fools. Half answered questions, hovering touches, nervous jokes. And so many apologies.

Who did this to you? you've always asked.

No one, he says. No one, just me.

Mysterious wounds on his hands and across his body which always take you tiptoeing to the drawer downstairs with the first aid kit. He always claims it's an accident- he randomly tripped, this and that.

The bandages end up migrating permanently into your room.

As you grow older, these "accidents" stop appearing so often. He moved with growing effervescent grace, a maturing temperament and greater care, as he steps over your windowsill. With time, you stop seeing him walking from the forest. He is simply beside you; his steps, utterly magically silent.

One night, he brings along two of his friends, two other "runaways". They prod at him and joke at you: "we've got to keep him on a leash at night, or else he'll slip off to you. He's whipped."

That night, you reach out across the space from one end of the bed to the other, sinking lips to lips, melting into the sheets. Stars explode in your head.

Since then, your midnights become noon. Board games played with a sudden squeal then a hand reaching to quench the sound from waking up your parents. Conversations about life, settled comfortably on the pillows and pillows stacked up on your bed. More stories. This time, he doesn't shy away from his identity- he's a sorcerer and kills invisible beasts.

His pearly smile hides a million secrets.

But not to worry, he will come back, he promises. The monsters do not scare him.

Midnight boy shows off his skills on the rooftop as you're watching falling stars. The pulse of wonder thrums through the air. Never before have you seen a human perform such feats.

You think, he shines the brightest of them all. You think, you can't imagine him ever burning out.

Midnight boy hugs you as you watch movies together, up until dawn. He presses long bittersweet kisses on your temple and lets you go, escaping out the window with the dawn.

Then, one night he doesn't show up. The window stays open, for months on, afterwards. Then, you screw it shut. You're left wonder if he existed, at all.

Midnight leaves no traces.

But when you're older, you tell your children, there are boys and girls from the mountain who come down once and then. You say, beware, keep watch, for they are boys and girls of magic.

gojo, GETO, yuta, itadori.

[yutahoes]

Polarity

Masterlist

characters: mafia boss! Yuta Nakamoto x innocent! florist! reader

summary: While running away, you seemed to be moving closer to the man you were avoiding. Are you even heading to the right direction?

genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen (last)

[the-delusion-corner]

ℑ𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 - 𝔜𝔲𝔱𝔞 𝔒𝔨𝔨𝔬𝔱𝔰𝔲

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

𝓎𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶 𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In which, Yuta had chosen Kenjaku's side.

(¯`◕‿◕´¯)

"I never meant for this to happen....really, I didn't"

"You made a choice. You fucked up"

The ruins of Shibuya, the crater where the beaming city once stood, where the streets used to bustle with people, living for the first time, was now an ugly bomb sight, the sign of destruction, an unhappy thought.

Your head lay meekly on the black haired boy's lap, he'd been too weak to kill you, his personal feelings from the past got in the way. One year ago you were end game, saviours together. But you had been left for his own agreement on a sick desire for a new and apparent perfect world. And it took your approaching death to make him realise how wrong he was in his choice.

"I hate you Yuta, i hate you so much.

But I love you, i love you so much but seeing you hurts"

The blood covered face of yours stared up at his tear filled expression, the breaths from your rising chest becoming more suppressed. You became hazy, and you were ready. You'd had enough, the pain was slipping away. You've done what you can, you saved so many people, been the perfect person.

He didn't respond, simply because he had no words. But his voice found him meekly as your eyes brimmed.

"everything hurts Yuta"

"...Im sorry. Im so sorry (y/n), this is my fault"

He was so right that this was his fault, but as you became dazed, what good did it do blaming him further? You loved him before. He was the right person, at the right time.

But he'd made the wrong decision.

The world grew blurry, hazy, and breathing became a chore. Your half lids stared up into his glossy eyes, and you gave him a smile, one he didn't deserve.

"Maybe....in another life we got our happy ending...maybe we could've protected each other, instead of causing pain."

His salty tears fell onto your face, the pitiful face Yuta gave you was almost upsetting, but don't be weak now. You're gonna be happier. He didn't get chance to respond in life, as you slipped away on his lap. But that didn't stop him from cradling your head in apology for what he'd done and speaking, in hopes that wherever you were, you'd hear him.

"𝕴𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊.. 𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓" "𝕾𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌, 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

𝓅𝓁𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝑒

[kpopcafeeee]

I have eyes everywhere-yuta

Paring: Nakamoto Yuta x fem!reader

Warnings: mafia! Yuta x sly and innocent reader smut, giving head(m receiving), hair pulling, face fcking degration, overstimulation, orgasm, pet names (princess reader gets called slut 3 times blah blah that all folks

Summary: you went out with your friends without telling your mafia boyfriend Yuta or sharing your location because you guys got into a argument but that’s ok cause he has eye’s everywhere so it doesn’t take that long for him to find you dancing with some random guy 🫣

A/N: I think i had to much fun with this story I might make a series about this one I think but I like Yuta mafia stories they are just so…ENTERTAINING😏 and I really hope I did a good job on this one and I’ll be doing tag lists if you guys want too:)

ENJOYYYYY😏😏😏

It all started when you and Yuta got into a fight on the phone because he said he couldn’t make it to movie night and he was sorry, this was the fourth time he canceled on you and you were sick of so while he was talking you hanged up in his face “asshole” you mumbled under your breath you walk into you guys closet to find you a dress until you came across yutas favorite dress that you wore on you guys first night it was short and it showed a lot of cleavage you had told your friends you changed your mind about going with them, you grabbed your purse and made your way to your friends car that was parked outside you and Yuta house, “OMG Y/N YOU LOOK SO GOOD” one of your friends said “thank you” you say, once you guys made into the club it was kinda loud and you liked it, you started dancing on the dance floor with some guy he had his hands on your waist if Yuta was here and he this he woulda killed the guy and oh boy he was, he was watching the whole scene unfold right in front of him

He was literally seeing red he started to walk up to you and the guy and grabbed your wrist and pulled you beside him he was squeezing your wrist so hard that you swear it would leave a mark tomorrow “ow Yuta” you said to him looking up at him “don’t fucking ow me you slut” Yuta said “let go of her man” the rando said to Yuta, but Yuta didn’t instead he punched the dude and walked out of the club pulling you by your wrist he pushed you into the car and walked over to the driver seat and started the car, he was still seeing red, you knew that dancing with some other guy would piss him off and get his attention but you kinda felt bad do the dude that got punched and you really wanted to say sorry but Yuta pulled you out the club before you could say anything else

“Your in big trouble slut” Yuta said to you as he’s pulling into the driveway you look at him with innocent eyes “why?” You said you knew why and you wanted this to happen you liked when he did you rough until you had tears coming down your you’re face “don’t fucking act innocent” you both go out the car and when you do hes already pulling you by your wrist again, he sits on the couch while your standing in front of him “take it off” you didn’t waste no time taking your dress of course you liked how he demanded you take it off “sit on your knees” he spreads his legs and you don’t take no time doing that either, you put your hand on his bulge and starts rubbing bulge through his pants you look up at him with those sweet innocent eyes

“Fuck” he curses you pulled his pants and briefs down enough to release his fully hard cock out you felt arousal pooling in your stomach you were already wet from the start and he knew that, you started sucking his tip your about touch your wet cunt until he slaps your hand away and you hiss at the contact, you start taking him all the way in your mouth he grunts when you do you slowly go up and down until he bucks his hips up and grips your hair and starts fucking your face as he does this tears are brimming your eyes and you mascara is messy but you like it he fucks your face a few more times until he cums in your mouth “sallow” he says you sallow is cum and shows him how your mouth has no cum in it “get up” you get up from off the floor your knees red and hurting you knew it would leave some kind of mark tomorrow

He pulls you down on his dick without any kind of practice, he holds your hips in and starts fucking into he grips your hips tightly as you moan his name “y-Yuta” you said your brain was turning into mush as he was fucking into your cunt “you like that slut?” He said instead of answering you nodded quickly he slaps your ass “use your words” he says “y-yes” you say as your trying your best not to cum then and there “I-I’m going to cum” that earns you a slap to your cunt, you moan his name at the contact “don’t you dare cum yet” you trying your best, tears coming down your cheeks (face) after a few minutes “can I cum Yuta” you say in half moan and he smirks “cum for me princess” so you cummed he starts to slow down to let you ride out your high he was almost there and after a few fucks he cums inside of you “have you learned your lesson y/n?” He says raising a eyebrow at you “y-yes Yuta” you mumbled “wanna take a bath and then watch a movie?” He says you two happily go into the bath and watched that movie

At least you got a good fuck and a movie after

END OF STORYYY

I hoped you liked it 😏

By: kpopcafeeee

[pipsqueak1507]

My dude is so beautiful

[nctsplug02]

requesting a princess reader x bodyguard yuta smut pleek ><

Just A Bodyguard . . . . . . nakamotoY

GENRE: fluff and smut

WARNINGS: spanking, praising, unprotected sex, forbidden love, degrading, and crying. (licking too lol).

you tighten your grip around the towel as the prince of monaco walks you back to your hotel room. “i had fun tonight, princess y/n.”

“i did too, thank you for walking me back to my room.” your body tenses when he gently grabs the tips of your fingers and places a kiss on your back hand. “it was a pleasure having some time to ourselves— beside your bodyguard shooting daggers at me the whole time.” he awkwardly laughs.

“yuta.. yeah, he’s like that. don’t mind it though, im sure he’s just doing his job by being protective.” the prince lets go of your hand. “on the topic of him,” oh, boy. “is there something going on between the two of you?”

there it is.

“me and my bodyguard? no, he’s just a bodyguard. nothing else.” such lies you fed the prince. “anyway, thank you for tonight— the dinner, the private pool was all amazing.”

“you’re welcome, princess. i should get back to my hotel room— i’m sure you’re worn out from today.” you nod and place your hand on your door handle. “goodnight, princess.” you nod once again before slipping into your room.

you stop when seeing your body guard sitting in the singular chair placed in the corner of your hotel room. “mr nakamoto.” you greet him and look away, quickly grabbing a few clothes from your suitcase.

“just a bodyguard?” you look up with a pile of clothes to your chest. “what?” what was he going on about? “just a bodyguard— that’s all i am.” shit. he must’ve overheard you and the prince earlier.

“mr nakamoto—?” yuta stands up and slowly walks over to you. “tell me; does a bodyguard make you cum every single day and night?” you don’t answer— you don’t even breathe at this point. “does a bodyguard fuck you until you can’t walk for days?”

“does a bodyguard make you scream every night and day?” your breath hitches. “answer me, princess,” he mocks the princes nickname. “does a bodyguard do that, princess?” you shake your head.

yuta tilts your chin up. “words, princess. i want to hear you say it.” fuck, your chin wobbled in embarrassment. “n—no.” you didn’t mean to stutter but with how he was treating you at the moment— your throat resembled your knees; wobbly.

“i guess i’m not just a bodyguard, right.” your eyes twitch at the sudden arousal pooling in your bottom bathing suit. “n—no, you’re not just a bodyguard.” yuta smirks.

“take off that towel.” you remove the towel and let it drop to your feet. “how slutty of you to wear this.” he reaches forward and tugs on the waistband of your bathing suit. “what princess wears this type of bathing bikini, hm?” you ignore him instead, focusing on the strings of your bikini suit.

“get on the bed.” who’s bed? your bed? his bed? you climbed on whichever one was closest. “slowly climb on it,” he fixes his command. you stick your ass out when slowly climbing onto the high leveled bed.

yuta groans at the sight of your lush ass and dripping cunt. “fuck.” yuta groans, again. you flinch at the loud sound of his palm meeting your ass.

“stay.” you come to a halt when hearing his command. you start to look around when hearing him dig around for something in your nightstand. “yuta—?” your head jerks up when hearing a faint buzzing sound.

“we had fun with this earlier this morning and afternoon, didn’t we.” you gasp and let your upper body fall forward when feeling the buzzing connect with your clit.

your hips jerk as you muffle your whines with the fluffy blanket. “y—yuta!” you groan, shutting your eyes and grasping onto the sheets. “that’s right, scream my name.” you weren’t screaming it, more like moaning it loudly into the sheets.

“you’re so fucking wet, princess.” yuta groans, messing with your slit. “who’s it for?” that catches you off guard— what did he mean? “wh—what?” you heave, trying to best to control your breathing. “is this for me or for him?” oh, he meant your arousal.

“y—you!” you push your hips more back, attempting to slip your cunt around his fingers. “it’s always for you, yuta.” you squeal and jerk your hips forward when feeling the buzzing increase.

yuta holds your hips still as you attempt to run from the buzzing bullet. “y—yuta, please!” yuta spreads your cheeks while adding more pressure on your clit. “please what, princess.”

“please let me cum?!” yuta had a strict rule with cumming. and you love to play by it.

rule five, no cumming without permission. you must beg before doing do.

“since you’re being so good, go ahead, princess.” you let out a sigh cry out relief when pleasure wash over you. your clit numb and frustrated. “that’s it, baby.” yuta rubs your ass before giving it a firm smack.

finally, the buzzing bullet stops and a thud is heard. “i guess we used up all its juice— after all, we did use it all night yesterday.” yuta sighs and sits up. he uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart, watching as your arousal strings.

“oh my g—god!” your voice hitches as yuta brings his mouth and attaches it to your pussy. “mmmm.” yuta hums causing a strict vibration to be sent up your core. “stay still, princess.”

his nose brushes against your other entrance above your cunt making you shiver. “i— yuta, it’s too much!” your hand lands on his head. “you taste to sweet— i just can’t get enough.” he whispers before sucking on your clit.

“o—oohh, god!” your trembling, arousal covers thighs quiver as yuta continues. “stop trying to run away, princess. even if you try, you always come crawling back for more.”

your second orgasm doesn’t let you argue back. it crashes on you causing a squeal to corrupt your throat. yuta finally pulls away with your cum dripping down his chin.

“so far only two orgasms— i don’t think the person who’s just a bodyguard is satisfied with that.” you whine, remember how you told the prince of monaco about yuta just being a bodyguard.

“yuta, please,” you pause when hearing the sound of him undoing his belt and it hitting the floor with a light thud. “i’m really s—sor— fuck!” you cry out when feeling him sink in without warning.

your hands firmly grip the sheets— tugging it off the corners of the bed and rolling towards you. “yuta, please forgive me—!” the position makes the tip of his cock hit your sweet spot.

“forgive you?” yuta scoffs while pounding your hips against his. “p—please, i love you!” yuta doesn’t let those three words phase him, instead he continues pounding your hips against his. “i love you, yuta.” your eyes sting and your tears bleed into the white sheets.

“aren’t i just a bodyguard? you can’t love a bodyguard, it’s against royalty rules.” yuta grunts out, his jaw clenched in anger as he remembers how he can’t have you.

“yo—you’re my bodyguard and i love you.” his thrusts become slow, catching him off guard. he shakes it off and continues to pound your hips with his.

your back arches more as his nails dig into your skin, leaving indentation. “i—im cumming.” your throat was raw. “do it. squeeze your tight pussy around my cock, princess.”

you fall forward as yuta slams his hips once more and pushes you. you clench tightly around emptiness while feeling yutas cum drip out of you and onto the sheets.

yuta goes to the bathroom and grabs a wash cloth, he comes back and wipes your thighs clean. he washes the wash cloth and hands it til it dries.

yuta comes back to you shaking. “cold, princess?” he asks and receives no answer. “princess.” he swipes his underpants off the ground and sits next to you. “whats wrong?” he turns you to see tears dripping down your temples.

“princess.” his tone was worried as he pulled you into his arms. “why— what’s wrong?” you shake your head, pushing him off. “look at me and talk to me, princess.” you uncover your face and yuta melts.

“what’s wrong.” he repeats. “yuta, i really do love you.” your voice cracked as the lump still wouldn’t leave. “princess, our love is forbidden. we can’t love each other.”

“but, yuta, i love you. i really do.” yuta softly grins and leans forward, pressing his lips on yours. “princess,” he sighs. “i love you, too.”

“do you really?” your eyes bubble up. “yes, i’ll say it, again. i love you and only you.” the heavy ache on your chest leaves. “good because you’re stuck with me forever. i’ll fight for us.” yuta softly laughs.

you sure as hell did.

[nakakitty]

Primeiramente, Feliz Niver!!

Segundamente, vc poderia escrever com o Yuta?? Eu gostaria q fosse uma fic inspirada na musica Insegurança - Grupo Pixote.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰̧𝗮 -𝗬𝘂𝘁𝗮

notas: oie! espero que não tenha desistido de mim, me perdoa pela demora mas fiz com carinho esse pedido hein! tô meio sem prática mas logo vem coisas melhores! feliz ano novo e beijos da mimi!

gênero: meio angst; fluffy

avisos: menção à insegurança no relacionamento e crise de ansiedade.

Você caminhava pelo tapete, desconfortável com a respiração irregular, com a tremedeira no corpo, e sentia que não conseguia se acalmar. Ligou a TV para abafar o som de seu choro incessante a fim de não acordar seu namorado que dormia tranquilamente sobre a cama de vocês, no entanto, ele sabia que havia algo errado quando passou a mão para o lado esquerdo da cama e o sentiu vazio.

Yuta se levantou silenciosamente, coçando os olhos pesados de sono. Quando chegou no corredor, conseguiu ouvir os seus soluços enquanto continuava caminhando em círculos. O japonês foi se aproximando de você, a envolvendo nos braços e assim você foi parando de andar.

O calor do corpo de Yuta foi te acalmando até que você voltasse a respirar melhor, o coração foi desacelerando mesmo com aquele aperto no peito. Se sentaram no sofá, a mão dele foi até seu cabelo o afagando, tudo isso em silêncio, apenas com o som da TV no fundo. Ele preferiu esperar você se sentir confortável para contar o que havia te deixado tão aflita.

Mas você estava envergonhada. Como Yuta reagiria ao saber que você estava insegura com o relacionamento? Não é como se você não confiasse nele ou duvidasse do sentimento dele, nada disso, mas veja só: Yuta é bonito, é inteligente, um grande cavalheiro, muito brincalhão, tem uma personalidade muito atraente. Ele é perfeito. Quem não se apaixonaria por ele? Mas a questão é: Quem se apaixonaria por você?

Você ultimamente se sentia cabisbaixa, não o suficiente para Yuta. Ele era tão bom, um príncipe, perfeito demais, ou como alguns inconvenientes costumavam dizer "ele era muita areia para o seu caminhãozinho". Você sabe que Yuta não pensa o mesmo, mas isso não diminui a sua aflição. Por fim, mais descansada, decide falar:

— Desculpa... — você diz baixinho, com o rosto escondido contra o pescoço dele. O cheiro de Yuta é tão bom, te acalma tanto...

— Não precisa se desculpar, amor... quando se sentir melhor para me dizer o que houve, pode me contar. Não vou te pressionar. — ele sorri para te reconfortar enquanto acaricia seu cabelo, fazendo um cafuné gostoso.

— É só que eu tenho medo... medo de que você me deixe. — você sussurra com a voz um pouco embargada, sentindo que iria chorar de novo a qualquer momento.

— Te deixar por quê? Tu é minha mulher, princesa... — Yuta te puxa mais para perto deixando um beijo no topo da sua cabeça. — Eu notei que você tá meio triste esses dias, e olha... eu só quero dizer que tô contigo pra sempre. Eu te amo, bebê.

Nessa hora seu coração se aquece, aquele aperto no peito se afrouxa. Seus olhinhos marejados brilham com as palavras dele e você admira aquele sorriso que a conforta tanto, que a faz tão feliz.

— Também te amo, Nayu... — você sorri minimamente e o abraça mais ainda, com mais intensidade.

Você sabe que insegurança não some assim do nada, mas que pode trabalhar isso, e Yuta é o homem que vai te provar todos os dias que você é o suficiente e ainda muito mais para ele.

[wontune]

Yuta wallpaper? <3 (NCT)

★ Yuta ( nct 127 ) lockscreens

[epinebleue]

for him (m) | 02

after a year abroad, you think summer back home can’t get any better. then, a charming ginger boy catches your eye.

pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader (female)

genre: rich kids!au, fluff, angst, mature.

warnings: mention of low self-esteem and racism.

chapter index | previous chapter | next chapter

Every summer, Jennifer’s parents spend two weeks in France to celebrate what they call their “annual honeymoon”.

Every summer, Jennifer throws a pool party while they’re away.

You’re supposed to be at her place at 10 AM to help her prep the space, but having stayed up late the night before, the annoying sound of the alarm does little to wake you up in the morning, Oliver doing so, instead.

You step into Jen’s patio exactly two hours later. She clicks her tongue at you, as if saying: “Finally!”.

Through the dark lenses of your sunglasses, you glance at her body as she approaches. The beautiful baby blue bikini she’s wearing fits her like a glove, as if it had been tailored with her in mind.

You’re used to feeling insecure whenever you’re around Jen. You know you shouldn’t, but you do.

It’s been this way since middle school, when one day the boys in your class rated the girls’ bodies from 1 to 10 on a piece of paper. You came second to last, while Jen’s name sat comfortably in first place.

“I know, I know.” You let out a sigh, allowing Jen to give you a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

Johnny and Sooyoung wave at you from inside the pool and you wave back, walking to where the rest of your friends are. Wendy, who was sunbathing, sits beside you under the parasol. Victoria gets out of the pool and joins the group soon after.

Once settled on the lounger, you scan the space. Ten and Lucas are sitting on the edge of the pool with sunglasses on, swinging their legs in the water, immersed in what seems an intense conversation. Sooyoung and Johnny splash around as they try to drown each other, much to Yuta’s annoyance, who finds their game an obstacle to what he really wants: swim in peace.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but then, the switch in your mind flips: someone’s missing.

“Hey, where’s Chris?”

There’s a moment of silence where Wendy takes a sip of her lemonade, eye-siding Jen. “They argued yesterday.”

Your brunette friend looks away, missing your surprised expression. “Again?”

Chris’ parents are family friends, so you’ve known him for as far as you can remember. However, you had never interacted much until he became Jennifer’s first serious boyfriend.

Being an only child, Chris is expected to inherit his family’s wealth and business. If he’s famous for something, though, that’s his looks. You must admit he’s drop dead gorgeous. Of course, Jen wouldn’t settle for less.

Soon after they started dating, you realized that having a handsome partner had its drawbacks. Jennifer would whine in your group chat every week about how hard it was to stand girls checking him out, how some would go as far as to sneak papers with their phone numbers when she wasn’t looking.

Even if Chris politely rejected their approaches every time, Jennifer started to gradually get sick of the whole situation until, one day, it exploded.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He’s a Greek statue come to life, Jen, of course he will be hit on!” Wendy says. “You’ve got to learn to cope.”

Jen rolls her eyes at Wendy’s words, a sign she’s getting angry.

“On what side are you on, exactly?”

“We aren’t picking sides.” You try to mediate, making a gesture to your blonde friend, asking for her sun cream. Having prepared your bag in a rush, you must’ve left yours at home. “I know it’s hard to watch people flirt with him all the time. But Wendy has a point, too. Being good-looking isn’t his fault, you know?”

You end your statement with a glance in Victoria’s direction, but the girl doesn’t say a word. She’s the type to not participate in debates like this.

“Exactly!” Wendy agrees, pointing at you. “Besides, he always rejects those advances. He would never hurt your feelings on purpose, Jen. He’s literally the sweetest boy I’ve ever met.”

“Talking about me, I see.”

You turn around to find Yuta standing behind you, soaked from head to toe. A water drop on the tip of his hair falls on his shoulder and you follow it as it slides down his chest and reaches his happy trail.

You fan yourself. Good thing it’s hot today. Otherwise, what would you blame the fire in your belly on? 

Jen chuckles as Yuta sits next to her, seeking protection from the aggressive sun. “Humble as always.”

“I thought I was the nicest boy you’ve ever met.” He shoves her with his shoulder, smiling. You’ve got the urge to look away. The fire in your belly is quickly replaced by an unsettling feeling you’re familiar with.

“After Chris.” Victoria finally speaks. “If that makes you feel better.”

“Not really, but I’ll get over it.” Yuta shrugs. “How come you’re still dry? It’s a pool party, ladies, come on!”

All your friends stand up, encouraged by his words and the terrible heat, and start walking to the pool. Except you. When Yuta notices, he gestures to you to join them.

“I’m not done.” You say, shaking the suncream bottle in the air.

“I’ll wait for you, then.”

“It’s fine.” He sits exactly where he was a few seconds ago. “Just go with the others.”

“Some more time in the shade never hurts.”

“So that’s why you’re here.” You find it hard to hide the disappointment in your tone. “You’ve fooled me. I thought you were a gentleman.”

Yuta leans back, his abs flexing as he speaks. He’s got such a tiny waist, adorned by a tattoo of a butterfly. You wonder if it carries any meaning.

“Oh, but I am.”

“I don’t believe it.” You finish extending the cream on your left arm. “You’ve hung around Ten for too long.”

“Other people’s personalities don’t change mine. I’m not Lucas.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to him.” You’re aware of the bad reputation that precedes Lucas. A drunk heart-to-heart conversation that happened before you went abroad helped you realize Lucas uses his behavior as a mask to hide his numerous insecurities. In a way, you can relate to that. Besides, being the youngest of five successful siblings makes him subject to his parents’ expectations, which tend to be unrealistic. And his brothers, far from supportive, are entitled assholes, straight-up bullies. No wonder he feels he has to act all tough to be taken seriously. “He’s a good kid.”

“Sorry, are we talking about the same person?” You’re about to defend Lucas again, but upon watching you struggle to apply the cream on your back, Yuta interrupts you before you can talk. “Do you need a hand?”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll get sunburnt there, anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Yuta grabs the bottle and sits right behind you, deaf to your words. At his insistence, you reach for your hair with trembling hands. Before you can even move it aside, he does so, his fingers brushing your back in the process.

You hold your breath at the sound of the cream coming out of the bottle. And then, his hands are on you.

You think your heart will jump out of your mouth and start running around the patio.

His warm palms delicately rub the cream into your skin, and you hope he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that bloom when he reaches the small of your back.

God, you’re so touch-starved it’s embarrassing.

You wonder if you’re tripping when Yuta takes a little longer to massage your shoulders. Trying to focus on anything else, your eyes land on Jen, who has joined Lucas and Ten by the edge of the pool. The bikini lets her flat stomach on display. Unconsciously, you suck in yours. She places her hair behind her shoulders as she laughs at something that Ten says.

Even her laugh sounds beautiful, everything about her is!

That must be why Yuta likes her so much.

You stand up, getting as far away from his hands as possible.

“I think that will do.” You say, eyes fixed on the floor, aware of how much you’ve just embarrassed yourself. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” His tone remains normal, but if you had looked at him, you would’ve seen him frown at the sudden mood change. Yuta leaves the bottle on the chair and follows you to the pool.

“About time you stopped playing handsies back there.”

You simply lift your middle finger at Ten, quickly making your way towards the staircase, hoping the water will hide your body from the rest.

It’s close to midnight and you’re on the verge of begging your parents to leave.

You’re celebrating the promotion of someone you don’t even know; drinking alcohol-free champagne, which you don’t even like that much; and bored Robinson Crusoe level.

Oliver and Noa left the moment they found their friends. Oli had invited you to join them, but you kindly refused, knowing that you would feel like a babysitter around his friends.

So, here you are, glued to your parents’ side, forced to listen to important conversations with important people, interested in neither.

Why have you been forced to come if your presence isn’t even going to be acknowledged? Your dad said it would be rude not to attend after a year abroad. What you understood was that they wanted to show you off, and the party seemed to be the perfect occasion.

You gulp the remains of your drink and leave the empty glass on the nearer table. You open your mouth, about to ask when you will be heading out when your dad’s name comes from the crowd.

“Jonathan!” He exclaims in surprise, shaking the hand of the man that appears in front of him. “Natalie! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well, we didn’t know you were coming!” Natalie, or what you call her out of respect, Mrs. Fulger, kisses your mother’s cheeks before addressing you. “You’re back from your trip! How was it, darling?”

You deliver a polite smile to the Fulgers, saying how the trip was “absolutely fantastic” and “a truly enriching experience.”

“You must be proud of her.” Mr. Fulger tells your parents, placing his big hand on his son’s shoulder. “Chris will take a gap year after graduating. One last taste of freedom before joining the company.”

The Fulger marriage laughs and your parents join them, and in less than a minute you’re back to being ignored, business taking over the conversation. You awkwardly stand beside your mom until you decide it’s enough.

“I’ll get something to drink.” You excuse yourself. “I’ll be back.”

“Chris will be enchanted to go with you.”

His father pushes him forward slightly. Chris gives you his signature charming smile before saying: “Of course.”

You make your way towards the bar immersed in an awkward silence. Of all people, you had to bump into him.

“Are you liking this party so far?” 

“I’m bored to death.”

“Me too.” You tap the bar counter with your long nails, laughing at his honest answer. “How’s life going?”

“Good, it’s good.” He looks around, playing with the glass he’s holding. “I’m in the training process to start working in my father’s company. He wants me to get familiar with the business and its processes before stepping in.”

There’s nothing worse than inheriting a position in a family business, but that’s just your opinion.

“You must be excited.”

“I am, yeah.” Chris nods, taking a sip of his drink. Even if you’re both trying hard to ignore the elephant in the room, Chris gives in first. “Have you talked to Jennifer, by the way?”

“She’s my best friend, Chris.”

He gives you a half-smile, only realizing now how stupid his question must’ve sounded.

“She won’t return my calls or my texts. She has blocked me on every social media, she doesn’t even want to see me! I don’t know where we stand right now.”

You’re not sure of what to answer, afraid you may say the wrong thing. One thing you know, though, is that even if you’ll always be loyal to Jen, you must admit she’s handling this whole thing terribly wrong.

“I’m sure it sucks.”

Chris genuinely laughs for the first time tonight.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh at his irony-filled tone, too, and the atmosphere feels much lighter now. “Relationships are so fucking complicated. Don’t ever get into one.”

“I’ll be fine.” You say, taking a sip of the drink the waiter has just served you. “It’s not like there’s a long line of men dying to date me.”

“Now, that’s surprising.” 

Much to your delight, he’s too invested in his problem to notice how the blood has rushed to your cheeks.

A certain someone comes to your mind and with him a question you’re dying to ask.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Chris straightens his back, shoving a hand into the pocket of his suit pants, nodding. “Have you and Jen argued due to a… third person?”

It’s just like when people yell at a character to not go into the room where the killer awaits. But it’s just you in the cinema, screaming at yourself to stop talking.

“Of course not! What the fuck?” Chris’ blue eyes open wide in shock as he reaches for his phone. “Did she tell you that? Does she think I’m cheating?”

“No, Chris.” You place a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him from texting Jen, who will murder you if she finds out you have planted a new suspicion in Chris’ mind. “God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry. It was just a question! I swear-”

“Hey.”

You aren’t sure if you should celebrate or bury a hole in the floor and hide when Yuta appears out of thin air, his eyes falling on Chris’ arm, where your hand is. You quickly move it away, which is exactly what is needed to make everything look suspicious.

“Hi.” Chris greets, not interested in Yuta’s presence at all. His head is elsewhere now that you’ve completely fucked up. “I’m leaving, I need to call her.”

Chris disappears in the crowd before you have the chance to say goodbye, leaving you behind with Yuta, who raises an eyebrow at you.

“Um, what was that?”

Whatever he’s insinuating offends you terribly. Do you look like the type to steal your best friends’ guys?

“That was nothing.” You snap. “He’s Jen’s boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“It’s a rough patch, they’ll end up getting back together.”

“Hopefully, they won't.” Your heart drops at his remark, but Yuta’s too busy looking in the direction Chris has disappeared, resting an elbow on the bar. “I hate that guy.”

Chris has always seemed kind and very down to earth. You wonder what could he have possibly done to gain Yuta’s resentment. To that question, you’ve got a theory. And you’d hate being right.

“I think he’s nice.”

“Oh, you think he’s nice?” Yuta snorts at your words. “You don’t know him that well at all, then.”

Yuta glances around the room, which allows you to scan him for a while. He looks really handsome in a suit. He reminds you of those vintage Hollywood stars.

“Why do you hate Chris? Is it because you like Jennifer?”

The question shocks you both. Again, you’re alone in the cinema begging yourself to just shut the fuck up.

“What?” He lets out a laugh of disbelief. “What does Jen have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know...”

“Oh, you do know. What have you seen that made you think that?”

Congratulations! You’ve just dug your own grave.

“Nothing in particular.” You answer, shrugging. “You seem to get along really well, now you hate her boyfriend...”

“First of all, I don’t like Chris because he’s a racist piece of shit. And I get along really well with Johnny, too. Do you think I want to fuck him, too?”

You can feel the color draining from your face.

“I don’t know what you like.”

If there’s something you’ve learned about Yuta, it’s that he’s the straightforward type. He’s unbothered and an expert when it comes to turning around the conversation to make it beneficial for him. He’s something like a mastermind, you’d say.

“Do you like me?”

“What?!” You shriek, trying to hide your shaky voice with a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“Why then would you ask me about Jen?” Yuta presses, tilting his head to the side. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m not! I was just curious!”

“You’re full of shit.” You’d be lying if you said you don’t find his smirk insanely attractive. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t mind. I would be very glad, actually.”

It’s at this point that your head starts spinning.

You see, you have never been confident. Out of the friend group, you’ve always been the shiest one. You don’t smile in pictures because you think your smile is ugly, and you don’t wear tight clothes because you hate your body.

You have had a single relationship in your life, at sixteen, and it crushed your self-esteem even further. A promise to yourself was made after that: no one would put you through that hell again.

Is that what Yuta is playing at? Making you believe he likes you just to laugh in your face once you take the bait?

He had seemed genuine when he defended you the night you met. Had it just been to give a good first impression?

You hold your purse tight, hold your head high.

“I hope the rest of your night goes well, Yuta.”

And you walk away with your dignity intact.

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023