illicit | yuta
kinktober day 5: hair-pulling
pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader
word-count: 3.3k
genre: criminal au, rivals to lovers
warnings: swearing, sexual content (oral sex, reader receiving), references to violence and general criminal activity
summary:
You swallowed, banishing the thought. “Are you trying to seduce me into being a hostage?”
Yuta’s lips twitched. “Why not?”
“This is a fucking terrible idea,” you muttered under your breath, as you followed Yangyang and his little detour through the alleyways.
“Don’t blame me,” Yangyang said, with a shrug. He didn’t seem to share your caution, strolling through the dark as if he were walking through his own home and not literally enemy territory.
Technically. It was in warehouse districts like these that territory boundaries blurred the most. That was the reason you’d taken this route in the first place – two blocks of warehouses would belong to the Blood Gate, take a left and you were in Sannoh territory, wander too far to the north and you’d stumble into Oya. It was hard to defend borders as confused as these.
You persisted. “If they want to talk, fine. Why the fuck should it be in their territory? It should be on neutral ground.”
The location was some nondescript restaurant, not quite at the heart of Blood Gate territory but close enough, as far as you were concerned.
“To be fair, what part of this city is neutral ground?” Yangyang asked. “We’ve managed to carve up most of it between us.”
“Maybe you should blame Ten,” came a voice from the back of the group, just a little too loud for a man so low in the hierarchy. “He was the one who lost us that sector.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you and Yangyang snapped in unison.
Ten didn’t lose you anything. The Blood Gate was about to launch a full-scale assault, and Ten chose to save lives and profits by clearing out the restaurants and casinos and various other semi-legitimate ventures your organisation owned, and left the Blood Gate to ‘reclaim’ a bunch of empty buildings and some dingy alleys.
But because there was no big dramatic fight, or blood spilled or people to avenge, small-dicked little shits like that guy wanted to complain about it.
Still, you quickened your pace to reach Yangyang, falling into step beside him and lowering your voice. “Seriously, Yang, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“It’s a risk, I’ll admit. But if anything happens to us, you know it’ll be grounds for a full-scale turf war. That’s why we’re being sent,” Yangyang pointed out, giving you a nudge with his elbow. “The almost un-expendables.”
You hated that he was right. The two of you were high-up in your organisation, valuable enough to keep close, valuable enough to avenge, valuable enough to justify war should you be attacked.
But not quite valuable enough to be protected at all costs. If you were killed, the organisation might suffer, but it would live to see another day when you would not.
One day, you were determined that would change. You would embed yourself within the company, make yourself essential, tie the survival of it to your existence and nothing else.
But until then, you had to grit your teeth and bear it.
Dinner was, amazingly, incredibly, miraculously, uneventful.
The subject of your talks was relatively simple. A new gang, barely shoved out of high school, so new that even their name hadn’t really been established yet, had managed to steal the docks out from under the Blood Gate’s noses. Your organisation had ties to shipping companies, and could get their hands on some impressive naval support.
In exchange for setting up a blockade around the docks to corner these upstarts while the Blood Gate made their move by land, your organisation would be given a whole bunch of stuff: money, weapons, a strip of new territory out by the commercial districts. Definitely nothing to sneeze at.
Your bosses gave the go-ahead over the phone, and you signed the deal. Simple.
Something very much not simple was the way that one of the Blood Gate members had been staring at you all night. You felt it constantly, his eyes trained on your every movement, the way you leaned forward in your seat when discussing blockade logistics, the way you traced the rim of your wine glass when you listened to anecdotes, the way you lifted your napkin to your mouth to dab away any errant smears of sauce.
You’d met him a handful of times before. Nakamoto Yuta. People mistook him for a thug and not much else, but there was a wicked intelligence behind his eyes. He knew how people worked, how they thought, where they would next strike.
At least, you’d thought so. Now, you wondered just how smart Yuta could be if he chose to stare at you so openly and so blatantly this whole time.
You’d made the mistake of glancing over and locking eyes with him twice over the course of dinner, and both times he’d smirked at you. Both times, you’d turned away.
You weren’t certain who had noticed. Yangyang might have, if he’d been paying attention, but the second the deal was signed, he’d been content to divert all of his focus on the pretty waitress assigned with pouring wine for the table. Yuta could have gotten out a switchblade and thrown it right at your face, and Yangyang would have needed a second to drag his eyes away from her legs before he could intervene.
After dessert, when the meal was winding down and settling into the ‘coffee-and-desserts’ stage, you excused yourself to the bathroom.
In there, you gave yourself a minute to decompress, to compose yourself as you tried to grapple with the evening’s events: smooth negotiations, no imminent threats of death, Nakamoto Yuta ogling you for two hours.
That wine had been nowhere near strong enough. You wondered if you could pull a server aside to ask the kitchen to slip a shot of whiskey into your americano. Maybe two.
You took some time to reapply your lipstick, and with one final deep breath, you unlocked the bathroom door and pulled it open.
To reveal Yuta, standing so close to the doorway that you almost ran face-first into his chest. In one quick motion, he pushed you back inside the room with a hand on your shoulder, and sneaked inside after you, locking the door behind him.
You raised your fists, stepping one foot back, assuming a defensive stance. “What the fuck is going on?”
Slowly, sharing exactly none of your urgency, Yuta turned away from the door to look at you. He shifted backwards, just slightly, leaning his back against the dark wood, hands in the pockets of his slacks.
He was tall, all lean muscle and long legs. Living up to the Blood Gate moniker, he was wearing a dark red suit, tailored perfectly, to match the rest of his delegation. Before tonight, you’d only ever seen him with his hair down, long and dark and so thick that it almost seemed shaggy, but now it was pulled back into a bun. Two pieces at the front fell loose on either side of his face, framing it perfectly.
“…You don’t seem pleased to see me.”
You blinked.
He didn’t budge, not even an inch.
Eventually, you rolled your eyes and dropped your hands, straightening up. “Figured that out all by yourself, did you?”
“I’m hurt.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He tilted his head, and you caught the subtlest flickers of curiosity in his eyes. “Does Yangyang know?”
“Know what?” You asked, lifting your chin, challenging him directly.
At this, Yuta grinned, his lips parting to reveal a set of perfect white teeth. Slowly, he took a step towards you.
“That you’ve fucked me…four times now? That’s a little concerning, isn’t it? Once, you could brush off as a fluke. But four times–”
“Three,” you interrupted, calmly, as collected as you could manage.
His brow furrowed just a touch. “Four. Shinjuku, Yokohama, Nagoya and Osaka.”
“Three. Osaka doesn’t count.”
“In Osaka, you rode my face until you cried, and you’re telling me that doesn’t count?”
“As fucking? No.”
He scoffed, and even as his grin dropped, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “Semantics.”
You folded your arms over your chest. “Is that why you followed me in here? Because if you’re hoping for another, you–”
“No,” Yuta said, simply, before adding in a slightly lighter tone. “Unfortunately.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, picking up on the subtlest of edges to his tone. You knew when Yuta was being insincere, and this wasn’t one of those times.
And then it hit you. “…No. No, you have got to be shitting me.”
“You signed the deal yourself,” Yuta pointed out. “Both sides are entitled to procuring leverage against the other, to ensure both follow through on their parts.”
“No,” you repeated, unmoved.
Yuta shrugged his shoulders, and you couldn’t quite tell if he was sympathetic or just amused. “I don’t think you have much of a say.”
“I say that all of you can go fuck yourselves if you think I’m just going to sign up for being a hostage.”
“‘Hostage’ is a strong word for it.”
You laughed. “Oh, really? Then, why don’t you come over and be our leverage?”
“Shotaro already volunteered,” Yuta sighed, as if his hands were tied.
“Well, Shotaro’s a moron.”
“Would it really be that bad? I can take the next few days off,” Yuta said, stepping forward again and closing the distance between the two of you. His hand drifted forward, the back of his knuckles coming into contact with your side. His gaze shifted from your face to follow the way his hand slid down. “I could finally fuck you in a real bed.”
Just as he probably intended, the image flashed into your brain of soft sheets, comfortable pillows, and Yuta’s hands gripping a bedframe so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
You swallowed, banishing the thought. “Are you trying to seduce me into being a hostage?”
Yuta’s lips twitched. “Why not? A little revenge for Shinjuku.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. You had sneaked away after your liaison with a USB drive Yuta had sworn to guard, and he continued to claim that the whole evening had been one big honeypot scheme. You pointed out how dumb he was to just drop the jacket in which the drive was pocketed onto the floor and forget about it, and that sneaking away with the drive had been an entirely unplanned happy accident.
As you reminisced, you must have fallen quiet long enough for Yuta to chance leaning in for a kiss. What a mistake on his part.
Your hand reached up and grabbed at his bun, pulling at his hair to jerk his head back. His breath caught, his long stretch of neck exposed. You could just barely make out the edges of his back tattoo, curling around the nape of his neck, peeking out of his jacket collar.
You smiled at him, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s negotiate. Give me your offer in full.”
“Do you always do business like this?” Yuta asked, and the angle in which you had him meant his eyes were almost obscured completely through his dark lashes. He gestured to the way your fist had wrapped itself in his hair.
You looked him in the eye, and let your grip relax slightly. After a moment’s hesitation, and with more than a little reluctance, Yuta went to pull his head away, and you snatched him back again, fingers twisting in the base of his bun. Already, it was starting to unravel.
This time, Yuta couldn’t help but grin. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Of course I am,” you said, with a shrug. “Now, talk.”
“Talk?” Yuta repeated, slowly, and you didn’t realise just how much filth one word could hold. “That’s not usually how I use my mouth when I want to persuade someone.”
Something deep inside your gut clenched. You managed a brief reply. “Oh, really?”
With just a wordless, charged look between the two of you, Yuta moved both of his hands to your hips before suddenly lifting you onto the counter beside the sink. Stepping closer, between your parted legs, Yuta went straight for the sensitive spot on your neck, right at the pulse point – a spot he discovered in Yokohama, after realising the ways in which the muscles of your body would tense to hide your reactions to anything that felt dangerously good.
You closed your eyes, arching into him slightly as you enjoyed the sensation, but the sudden memory of whereyou were gave you pause. Using your grip on his hair, you pushed his head downwards. “We don’t have much time.”
“You’re just impatient,” Yuta countered, rolling his eyes, but followed your directions. Slipping his hands under the hem of your dress, he pulled it upwards, exposing more and more of the soft skin underneath. You knew he’d glimpsed your underwear when he murmured. “Black? My favourite colour.”
“In Nagoya, you said it was blue,” you said, managing to keep your cool even as Yuta kisses just where the fabric ended and your thigh began.
“It changes,” Yuta mumbled into your skin, before turning his head and pressing open-mouthed kisses through the fabric of your underwear.
You felt the first gasp of breath leave you, felt the way your body began to relax.
Yuta was good – why else would you risk so much for this? He was experienced, and more importantly, he was intuitive. This was the fifth time the two of you had…connected in this sort of way, and he’d already figured out what speed you liked, what pressure. What your body thought it wanted, and how to give what it needed.
When you felt his tongue press against you, as if he were licking through the fabric, the hand gripping his hair began to slacken under the sweet relief.
Only for Yuta to pull away slightly, as he reached up with his hand to grab your wrist and very pointedly kept it pressed against his head. “Don’t stop.”
That was usually your line.
Intrigued, you went one step further, finding his hair tie and pulling it loose from his hair entirely. As it fell down around his head, you tossed the hair tie somewhere and instead grabbed a handful of his hair. You decided to test handling him a little more roughly, tightening your grip, and you were rewarded with a low noise from the depth of Yuta’s throat as his mouth was on you once more.
It developed into the perfect cycle. When Yuta made you feel good, your grip tightened in his hair, which seemed to only spur him on to do more. He didn’t even try to remove your underwear entirely, he just used to fingers to hook under the waistband and dragged them halfway down your thighs, just enough to give him the room he needed.
He seemed to like getting messy – or maybe it was just the enthusiasm he knew was essential in something like this. You couldn’t half-ass it and expect good results, you had to…
You cried out as his lips closed around your clit and he sucked, loud enough that you slapped your free hand over your mouth to stifle any other suspicious noises from reaching that kind of volume. But it was just getting so hard to remember why you had to, because all you could feel was Yuta’s mouth and all you could hear was his noises and yours and your hips were already rocking forwards and you were pretty sure that by this point you might even be dripping down his chin and you wanted–
“Is everything OK in there?”
Yangyang.
It took everything in you, every iota of self-restraint, not to groan in frustration at the sound of his voice. You couldn’t stop now, you wouldn’t, you were getting–
“You’ve been gone a while. Some people are moving to the balcony to smoke, and…is something wrong?”
Your hand shook as you slowly removed it from your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you tried to shout back. “No, I–”
Your voice cracked, breathing heavy, because Yuta chose that exact moment to run his tongue over your clit in the most infuriatingly perfect way. You looked down, trying to summon an expression of disapproval, and you were met with Yuta’s amused, utterly shameless eyes as he continued to eat you out with little to no regard for the consequences. You tried to pry him off by yanking on his hair, but he held on strong enough to stay within reachable distance, eyeing you the whole time.
Gulping, you steeled yourself to try again. You’d survived other kinds of torture before, and this was by far the nicest you’d ever experienced. You could do this.
“Sorry, Yang! I’ve…I’ve got stuff I’m trying to deal with,” you called out, proud of the stability of your voice. “I’ll be out in…uh, ten?”
Yuta murmured into the crook of your thigh. “You won’t last five.”
“Just go to the…” you cut yourself off again with a hiss, as Yuta returned to lavish his attention on your clit. “The balcony. I’ll meet you out there.”
To your intense – intense – relief, Yangyang seemed to take you at your word and left with a slightly awkward goodbye.
With him gone, you turned your focus back onto Yuta. “Fuck, you’re such…a dick.”
Yuta hummed in agreement, which was probably a calculated move, as the vibrations made you physically judder. Immediately, you clutched at him tighter, moving your hips more and more.
You needed it, you needed it, you needed the feeling it gave you, you needed the way it broke you just a little, the way it cracked open your shell, you needed Yuta’s face fucking ruined, you needed it, you needed…
“I…I’m…it’s…” you gasped, tears forming in your eyes. You were clutching Yuta’s hair so tightly that you were sure your nails were starting to dig into his scalp, but he didn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, honestly.
Your orgasm hit, white-hot and blinding, and your brain turned to mush. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t think, you just gasped and shook with the after-effects. Like electrocution, intense, slow, violent.
Yuta let you ride out the last of it against his tongue, and eventually, you recovered. Your breathing began to slow, your body slumping with relief, your eyes fluttered to a close as you tried to come back down to reality.
Your grip finally loosened in Yuta’s hair completely, and you slowly began to card your fingers through it. It was so soft, almost reassuring in the same way stroking a beloved pet felt.
Yuta rested his forehead against your thigh, seemingly enjoying this softer treatment of his hair – nearly as much as he seemed to when you got a little rougher.
Your eyes were still closed when he finally spoke.
“We could have a week of this,” Yuta pointed out, slowly pulling your underwear back up your legs, putting them back into position. “Every single day. What’s stopping you?”
Maybe it was still the aftermath of that orgasm.
Maybe you were just tired of having to bottle everything up all the time.
You let out a deep breath.
“What happens after that week?” You asked. “It’s getting hard enough as it is, pretending like we hate each other.”
Yuta stilled. Something in the air changed, as if the very atmosphere between you two was surprised by the vulnerability that just escaped from you.
You felt the urge to take it back, pretend you’d never said it. But you were determined to never take a coward’s way out, so you bit your tongue, and decided Yuta would just have to deal with it.
You opened your eyes to find him staring at you, something in his eyes that you couldn’t identify between sadness and affection.
Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. These were the moments that always made it worse, the ones where you forget, just for a second, what lay just outside of those doors.
“We’ll figure it out,” Yuta declared, quietly, when he broke this kiss. “Just…please, say yes. Will you stay with me?”
You rested your forehead against his, exhaling slowly, and opened your mouth to answer.
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I wanna start some shit with Yuta have him grab my face kiss me and fuck me against every surface have him slut me out. He can choke me out too I don't mind.
listen…. THAT!!! is what i need right now. i’m tryna be the biggest spoiled brat ever just so yuta can remind me who’s in charge around here 😇😁
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Feels like
you can love again.
Pairing : Johnny × fem!reader
Rating : 18+
warning: smut with plot, protected sex, i tried fluff? fluffy sex? and heart break. and basically all things sex. oh alcoholism. cute sex? plus doggy style plus face sitting:) oral m/f
word count : 4.5k
summary : I could fuck you, right here, right now, but only if you'd ask.
[if you wanna skip to the smut part just go straight down]
Playlist
all too well, Taylor Swift
you heard me, Heather Sommer
1 step forward, 3 steps back, Olivia rodrigo
graveyard, halsey
right where you left me, taylor swift
wouldn't come back, Trousdale
ghost of you, Selena Gomez
company, Justin Bieber
yours, Raiden
crushing, illenium
begin again, Taylor Swift
feels like, Gracie Abraham
link
When all is said and done, and the person you loved is no longer there, what's left to do? How do you cope when you've given your all, only to find yourself empty, a mere shell of your former self? It's like being left with nothing but bones and muscles, a broken machine barely keeping you going.
So, how do you restart? How do you function when they've taken everything and left you with nothing? How do you shift your mindset to believe that this is all for the better? And most daunting of all, how do you open your heart to love again?
It feels like trying to breathe without air, as if the very essence of life has deserted you, leaving behind a jagged landscape of shattered pieces. It's dangerous to get too close to those sharp edges, so you stand alone and don't let anyone close. Trying to find yourself again.
Stand alone and contemplate what you've gotten yourself into and what you've done to yourself. How could you have ignored the warning signs? They were crystal clear. How could you have not predicted it? Too innocent.
Too gullible to let him in.
Thinking about it now feels pointless. "He was a nice guy, but he was too caught up in himself. He never really saw me. He claimed he did, but I never felt truly understood," you confide while he brews your coffee.
"I never felt loved by him," you add, as he sets the mugs on the counter—one for each of you. It's a chilly evening, and the cafe where he works is quieter than usual. You're a regular here; it feels like a safe haven, a place where you can find comfort in familiarity. You accept your coffee in silence, opting not to say more.
"Take a deep breath," he urges, his voice gentle as he nods, trying to seem strong and supportive. "How?" you reply absentmindedly, staring out the window where the fog thickens by the second. The ache in your heart grows, and despair overwhelms you as you fall back into the familiar trap of negative thoughts.
"He wasn't giving you what you needed. You shouldn't have to beg for love. Believe me when I say it's for the best that he's gone." He says.
"I loved him."
"You did, Maybe you still do, but people change," he interjects gently, his gaze fixed on the coffee between you, his words carefully chosen. "In different ways. You may have promised forever, but forever is a long time. Sometimes you grow together, and sometimes... you grow apart. It's nobody's fault in the end. You just drift away, lose that connection, maybe take each other for granted, and before you know it, the fights start."
His voice falters slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. "I know it might not make sense right now, but what I'm trying to say is... you deserved more than what he could give you. Trust me, you're better off without him."
You inhale deeply, shaking your head in resignation. Raindrops cascade down the window, distorting the glow of the city lights outside. His words echo in your mind, and as you take another sip of coffee, its comforting aroma envelops you. Yes, he's right. You're undeniably better off without him, yet the ache lingers.
Why does it still hurt, months after the breakup? Why does the pain persist, stubbornly refusing to fade away? Days blur into months, but the heartache remains a constant companion. People change, move on. But the pain always stays. It gets a little better each day. You learn to accept. You learn to love yourself. Yet, just when you think you've moved on, something triggers that familiar ache, dragging you back to square one.
But life doesn't pause for heartache. Despite the pain, the world keeps spinning, and you move forward, one step forward and three steps back, hating, crying, wanting, but never stopping.
~~~
A year and almost a half have passed since then. Things have been getting better. The clouds are clearing up, leaving behind a little less hurt and a lot more clarity. There's a sense of hold, of something stirring within—gratefulness, perhaps, or hope. Or maybe its the sound of a familiar ring at the door. You turn around to see a familiar face, a smile lighting up your face as you recognize Johnny.
"A latte, please," you say as he approaches, his presence bringing a comforting warmth to the room. Johnny nods, his gentle demeanor never faltering as he starts to brew your coffee. Johnny's a gentleman, and a law student. He works part-time in this cafe, not because he's broke or anything. He simply lives the high life. Gym first, then college, and then in the cafe followed by late nights of studying. He's a quiet guy who keeps to himself. Disciplined and courteous. Doesn't really like to waste his time on the things undeserving of his attention.
Your friendship with Johnny began in this very place. You remember it must have been around 10 o'clock at night, you had just split up with your ex. It was a stormy night, It felt like the world was collapsing around you and someone was sucking the breath out of your lungs, alone and broken, you found this cafe nearby. The rain was pouring nonstop, so you decide to take refuge, sitting in the corner, your tears flow with the raindrops tapping against the windowpane.
Jhonny brings you a cup of coffee and a napkin with words of reassurance, "It'll be okay, just hold on."
He saw you when you felt invisible to the world, and he understood you when no one else could. In Johnny, you found not just a friend, but a shimmer of light in your darkest moments.
You still have that note.
Jhonny could hardly fathom the possibility of falling in love, especially with someone as uniquely eccentric as you. Little did he know, his heart had already been quietly captivated by your presence over the passing months. As you walked through that door, disheveled and drenched from the rain, the only word that echoed in his mind was "beautiful." From that moment on, an unspoken longing stirred within him, urging him to reach out and connect with you. He extended that napkin, not just to offer solace, but as a gesture of his desire to understand you, to unravel the mysteries you hide behind those smiles. There was an enigmatic force pulling him toward you, compelling him to take that first step.
You became a regular at the café, grateful for Johnny's caring nature. It seemed like nobody else noticed you like he did. Unintentionally, Johnny had fallen deeply in love with you over the past few months. He paid attention to everything about you - your likes, dislikes, comfort songs, and movies you could watch a 100 times.
He became your confidance, your best friend, always there when you needed him. Watching you cry over someone unworthy filled him with the desire to show you wat true love actually is. Late at night, he found himself thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you had eaten, or if you were thinking of him. He felt your sadness as if it were his own and rejoiced in your happiness. But despite his feelings, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love.
Simply put, Johnny wanted you. He wanted to show you what true love was, and that no girl deserved to be treated the way you were, left alone in the middle of nowhere, weeping in the pouring rain. Hearing about your past hurt him, but it also revealed your strength and resilience, which only made him love you more. He wasn't drawn to the roses and smiles you showed the world; he was captivated by the scars and bruises you tried to hide.
The more Johnny got to know you, the deeper he fell.
However, he made a conscious decision to hold back because he didn't want to become a rebound love. Instead, he wished for you to heal from the wounds of your past relationship, to move forward and see him for who he truly was, not just as a replacement for what your ex lacked.
He longed for the day when you would accept him completely, with no remains of the past clouding your judgment. So, he waited patiently, hoping for your heart to mend. Hoping for you to let go. Hoping for you to see him.
Time passed away, six months turned into a year, yet you still struggled to let go completely. Though it was getting better, the ghost of your past still lingered, haunting your thoughts and emotions.
How could you not feel shattered? Johnny was just too good for you, too kind. But when you've been hurt before, love becomes terrifying. Trying to piece things together while pretending to be okay is exhausting. It's hard to focus on anything when you're struggling to keep it together. Knowing you love someone and they love you back, yet being unable to fully embrace it because you're afraid of losing them, of getting hurt again - it's paralyzing.
And then there's the guilt. Even though your past relationship ended a year ago, the promises made still weigh heavily on your conscience. How do you reconcile having Johnny in your thoughts while someone else occupies a part of your heart? It feels unfair to him, but you can't shake the feeling.
How are you supposed to let go and move forward when your heart is still stuck in the past? People say "move on" like it's easy, it's anything but easy. It feels like an impossible task, especially when nobody seems to understand what you're going through.
Except for him. Johnny. He understands.
It's so damn difficult," you thought to yourself, feeling the weight of your emotions. Letting go seemed like the simplest solution, but in reality, it was anything but easy. As Johnny led you towards his flat, the thought lingered at the back of your mind.
He mentioned the party he was hosting with his friends at him appartment, someone got a job or something. The atmosphere inside was luxurious, yet simple. with crimson sofas exuding a regal aura in the soft golden light. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles and the sound of champagne being poured, it was cozy.
The gathering was intimate, with only the chosen few invited. Amidst the fancy party, all you could think about was Johnny. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you'd fallen for him too, about the guilt that shouldn't be feeling. Johnny was the best guy you'd ever met, and you couldn't just let him go because you were scared. Even though your past hasn't been great, you didn't want to hurt him because you knew he loved you too. Since the day you met, he's been there for you. And he still is, always there in every little thing. It feels like you're stuck in between, torn between your feelings for him and the uncertainty.
As Johnny left momentarily, you found yourself walking towards the balcony, away from the small talk and pretense inside, with a bottle of champagne. all you needed was a stunning view of the city's glittering skyscrapers, illuminated by the twinkling lights.
You craved peace of mind, a moment to quiet the storm raging within you. Being around Johnny, even for just an hour, had a profound effect on you, all the thoughts and insecurities on one side, and all the feelings of desire and lust, unlike anything you've ever experienced before.
There was no rush of blood and getting all hot and bothered every time your prior partner looked at you. You would never have felt this shy and nervous in his presence. Yes, there was attraction, but nothing like this, but with Johnny, it is the exact opposite. His mere presence left you weak-kneed and breathless, yearning to surrender to the intoxicating pull between you. He awakens you. He makes you want to succumb to him, give into him.
Yes, you yearn to experience the warmth of love, to be cherished and valued in return. And perhaps, deep down, you crave these feelings from Johnny, who has shown himself to be both kind and breathtakingly amazing. The way he gazes at you speaks volumes about his feelings for you.
It's confusing, isn't it? Frightening even. Because all you've ever known about Love is that it breaks and burns and ends, yet here you are, falling for Johnny despite your fears. It's a terrifying feeling, but there's something about it that makes you want to continue. Makes you want to keep dreaming. But you're afraid to confess your feelings, terrified that you'll only end up hurting Johnny in the process. It's hard to find the words, to admit to yourself, let alone to him, that you're falling for him. But despite the uncertainty and the fear, there's an urge within you, a desire to reach out and claim him for your own. All you want is to grab his face, to feel his lips against yours, and to lose yourself in the sweetness of his embrace.
Hard.
And never let him go. You've been thinking about it, about you. And him. And since, you've been moving on, you've been trying to forget and forgive and embrace and accept. You have come to a conclusion that amidst all the chaos, Johnny was the only one there. And that you have hopelessly fallen in love with him.
~~~
Hey," he says, joining you on the balcony, "you're standing alone?"
"Hey jj," you reply, meeting his gaze.
"You call me 'jj' when you're happy," he remarks, puzzled because your tone isn't cheerful.
"I guess I'm happy, sort of. It's been a while, but it feels good," you admit, looking at him standing beside you. He smiles, his eyes filled with happiness. He's genuinely pleased for you.
"That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."
He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"
That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."
He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"
"Nope, I'm having a pretty good time," you say, pulling the glass away from him. He noticed a whole bottle nearby on the floor. "I think you've had enough for the night, darling."
darling.
Even in the dim light, Johnny couldn't miss the blush spreading across your cheeks. He's skilled at noticing your reactions and knows how to tease you.
Trying to steer the conversation away from any awkwardness, you say, "So I was thinking..."
"About?" he interjects playfully, trying to provoke a response.
"Everything that's happened, you know, with my ex, and then with you," you begin, but he interrupts.
"Oh, nothing happened between us, as far as I can remember... unless..." he trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarify.
"Okay, okay, just kidding. But I kinda wish you did mean it," he mutters under his breath, a smirk forming on his face.
You feel your thoughts becoming fuzzy as you both dance around the topic. Usually, your brain would shut down any such ideas, but tonight feels different. Instead of being repelled, you feel drawn to him, wanting something you've suppressed for so long.
Despite trying to hold back, you find yourself unable to think of anything else.
As the alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening your desires, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to ask him what has been in your mind for quite a long time, and so you ask "If I were to ask for a kiss, would you kiss me? Right here, right now?"
The intensity in his gaze heightens, his pupils dilating as his demeanor shifts, becoming more serious. "Ask me," he demands, his jaw clenched with anticipation. His eyes linger on your lips before locking onto yours, a silent plea echoing within them.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you turn away, feeling a rush of emotions flooding your senses. With a deep breath, you struggle to compose yourself, but before you can respond, he chuckles softly. "I knew you didn't have the nerve," he remarks, his tone teasing yet tinged with disappointment. Meeting his gaze once more, you're taken aback by his confidence. As he straightens himself and takes a sip of his drink, his words hang heavily in the air. "I don't know how much longer I can wait for you," he confesses, his voice low and filled with longing, "but if you were to ask me to fuck you right here, right now, I wouldn't even think once." With that declaration, practically deadpanned on your face, he goes inside the flat, leaving you to grapple with your miserable self.
~~~
The night after that seemed to stretch endlessly, a void you couldn't escape. Frustration and regret gnawed at your mind, You turned to more alcohol, a fleeting attempt to numb the pain within, but it only amplified the train of thoughts swirling in your head.
As you sat alone on the balcony, the chilly night air enveloped you, matching the coldness you felt inside. Time lost its meaning, slipping through your fingers as you drowned in a sea of overthinking. Every possible scenario played out in your mind like a relentless storm, each outcome more daunting than the last. What could have happened if you could have just said.
Johnny appears through the doorframe. His presence was unexpected, you thought he was mad yet oddly comforting, a reminder that you weren't completely alone in this chaotic night. "Will you spend the whole night here?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to fully grasp his words.
Refusing to retreat from your self-imposed exile, you remained rooted to the spot, the numbness spreading through your limbs. Yet Johnny persisted, his care evident as he gently coaxed you back inside. "It's cold. Come inside, everybody left already," he urged, worry evident in his eyes.
Too weary to resist, you allowed him to guide you indoors, his touch grounding you in reality. As he settled you into his bed, a wave of familiarity washed over you, a stark reminder of the times you'd been here before, always on the edge of leaving. You had been here countless times, yet never truly stayed. But tonight was different. Tonight, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to leave, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, if only for a fleeting moment.
As he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, you instinctively reached out, clinging to his shirt. "Kiss me," you implored, your gaze locking with his warm brown eyes, overflowing with affection.
His response came with a gentle sigh, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "You're drunk," he stated softly, his voice laced with worry.
"I am, but I can still make sense of it all," you insisted, determination shining through the haze of intoxication.
"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" Johnny reassured, his face drawing closer to yours.
"Please," you exhaled, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your confession pressing down on you. "I know I'm the worst person alive right now but I- I'm just afraid. Please understand. I want you, I do, but it's so scary."
"Shh, it's okay, I know," he murmured, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. "I know you're trying."
Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingled, each exhalation a testament to the vulnerability you shared in that moment. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the weight of your guilt heavy on your heart.
"You don't have to be," he replied, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture of forgiveness. "Look at me."
As you met his gaze once more, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Relax, okay? I'm happy that you opened up about it."
"I'm sorry," you repeated, the words a mantra of remorse.He shook his head gently, his touch comforting. "Let's try sleeping now, shall we? Don't think about it." With his reassurance enveloping you like a warm blanket, you allowed yourself to drift into the embrace of sleep, for the first time with him.
As consciousness reluctantly seeped into your foggy mind, a wave of discomfort washed over you, fueled by the repercussions of last night's poor choices. The harsh glare of morning light pierced through your eyelids, adding to the throbbing ache behind your temples.
Attempting to remove yourself from the confines of the bed proved to be a tough task, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and your head swimming with dizziness. Searching for Johnny's presence beside you, you found only an empty space, adding to the disorientation.
Succumbing to defeat, you surrendered to the comfy embrace of the mattress, sinking into its softness as you lay there, gazing blankly at the ceiling above. Dehydration gnawed at your parched throat. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around you faded into a haze of half-formed thoughts and fleeting sensations. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above served as a lullaby.
In the midst of this surreal feeling, fragments of memories from the night before flickered like distant stars in the night sky. Realization and what-ifs danced at the edges of your mind, their haunting presence a constant reminder of the consequences of your actions.
Yet, amidst the turmoil, there lingered a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of possibility that perhaps, despite the mistakes of the past, redemption was still within reach. You clung to this fragile thread of optimism, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.
Minutes stretched into hours, the passage of time marked only by the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the curtains. And then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps drew near, with a weary sigh, you opened your eyes to find Johnny standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, you nodded sleepily.
As you reluctantly stirred from your sleep, you felt the duvet being tugged away, prompting a sleepy protest. "Erugh, let me sleep," you mumbled, trying to shield yourself from the intruding light.
But his teasing remark about your state of dress snapped you awake, and you jolted up, "You're completely naked," only to realize you were already covered. He pointed out with a playful grin, causing you to blush and scramble for cover.
However, your movements triggered a sharp pain in your head, and you winced, instinctively reaching to soothe it. Before you could fully register the discomfort, another hand joined yours, gently stroking your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him sitting close, his concern evident in his gaze.
"Who told you to drink that much? You puked two times," he said softly, his tone filled with worry and care. Giving in to his touch, you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence amidst the pain.
"I... may have overdone it a bit," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his concern. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to massage your head as you relaxed against him.
"It's okay. Just drink some water and take it easy," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. With a nod, you reached for the glass he held out to you
He's far too good for you. A voice at the back of your head screams at you.
"Johnny..." you say, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. His presence alone was enough to make your heart race, but you needed to speak your mind.
He turns to you, his gaze softening as he listens intently. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his words.
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I've been thinking about..." you trail off, unsure of how to articulate the right words.
Johnny reaches out, his hand placing a strand of hair behind your ear,offering silent support. "Go on," he encourages gently.
"I'm sorry," you say, the words heavy with regret. "I know this is complicated, and i am making it even more complicated but I just don't want to hurt you." You could barely manage to say even that.
Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trail through the loops of your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His hum reverberates through you, a sensual melody that ignites a fire deep within. But then, in an instant, his demeanor shifts, catching you off guard.
His hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back with a swift, yet gentle force. The sudden change in his touch sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses to the electrifying proximity between you.
Your eyes meet his, dark and intense, and you find yourself unable to look away. His breath, warm and fruity, fans over your face, stirring something primal within you. In that moment, you're acutely aware of every sensation, every heartbeat, as you surrender to the magnetic pull of desire that envelops you both.
"Can't you see what you do to me?"
Johnny..." you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.
He pauses, his eyes locked with yours, waiting for you to continue.
"I... I didn't mean..." you stutter, struggling to find the right words as his grip on your hair loosens.
He chuckles softly, his laughter dancing in the air, easing some of the tension between you. "I know, I know," he reassures you, his tone gentle yet teasing.
"But..." you start, only to be cut off by his next words.
"You talk a lot when you're drunk," he says with a smirk, his fingers tracing light patterns along your skin.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing he's right.
"What did I say?" you ask, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.
His gaze softens, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "That you tend to get... aroused whenever I say your name," he says, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
You shake your head in denial, but deep down, you know he's right.
He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your veins.
"Johnny..." you breathe out his name, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in your mind as he hovers above you, his presence consuming your senses.
"Say it," he urges, his voice low and demanding, sending a thrill through your body.
"Johnny, listen to m—" you begin, but he cuts you off with a firm command.
"Say it!" he insists, his intensity leaving no room for argument.
"I want you, for fuck's sake, I want you," you finally admit, your voice tinged with both desire and vulnerability.
Closing your eyes, you release the grip you've been holding onto, allowing yourself to surrender to the overwhelming attraction between you.
You lay back, flattening against the bed, pushing your hair away from your face to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes, dark and intense, never waver from yours, sending a flutter of nerves through your stomach.
"I want you, in every way possible, and it's no secret. I'm just afraid," you confess in a small voice, baring your soul to him.
Johnny's smile is reassuring, his touch gentle as he lays on top of you, ensuring he doesn't overwhelm you with his weight. "Don't be afraid," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "You'll love me just fine."
In that moment, as you lay entwined with him, all your fears melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. You know that no matter what lies ahead, you're ready to explore this newfound connection with him by your side.
As Johnny hovers above you, his gaze dark with desire, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. His lips brush against yours in a teasing caress, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce between you.
"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an expert touch that leaves you trembling with desire.
"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against the skin of your neck as he takes you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.
With each touch, each caress, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by an electric current of desire that pulses through your veins. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour with a reverence that leaves you breathless.
You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he explores every inch of your skin with a delicate touch that sets your senses ablaze. His fingers trace patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.
Your lips collided with his in a heated embrace, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through both of your bodies. Crashing into each other, feelings of desire over powering you both. In that moment you knew, it was gonna be a hell of a ride and you couldn't be any more excited than you are right now.
After the kiss, you both laid side by side, "By the way you didn't really say any of that." Johnny gently whispers in your ear, and you both end up laughing, cuddling.
~~~
You like it?" Johnny asks, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watches you take a lick of the ice cream. You nod enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face like a child on Christmas morning. His smile widens in response, a soft glow of happiness emanating from him. It's moments like these that make everything feel so right.
Since that unforgettable day when you poured your heart out to him, your life has been like a dream come true. Flowers, date nights, chocolates – you name it, he's made sure to fill your days with joy and love. From cozy movie nights to endless cuddles, it's like you've found the missing piece to your puzzle.
But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Like any couple, you have your disagreements. Yet, what sets you apart is the unwavering understanding and support you both offer each other. Johnny never lets you go to bed upset, always there with reassurance and kisses to mend any hurt feelings.
He constantly reminds you that you're doing just fine, and it's true. It's not just about healing from past wounds; it's about the beautiful exchange of giving and receiving love. It's about reciprocating the care and affection you both share, knowing that the more you give, the more you receive.
In a world where it's easy to become complacent, you both choose to love each other every single day. And that, in itself, is the greatest gift of all.
You plead with puppy dog eyes, urging him to let you indulge in more ice cream because, well, why not? 'Pleeease let me have another scoop!' you whine, the anticipation of the creamy goodness making your mouth water. But alas, he declines with a chuckle, warning, 'No way! You'll catch a cold!' You pout, but secretly admire his concern."
Disappointed but not defeated, you pout and playfully stick out your bottom lip, giving Johnny your best puppy-dog eyes. "But Johnny," you protest, "I promise I'll bundle up extra warm tonight! Pretty please?"
Johnny can't help but laugh at your antics, finding your determination to get that extra scoop of ice cream utterly endearing. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and gently takes your hand in his. "As much as I love seeing that adorable pout of yours, I can't risk you getting sick, [Reader]. How about we save the ice cream for tomorrow, hmm?"
You sigh dramatically, but a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "Fine," you concede, "but only if you promise to share a warm blanket and snuggle with me tonight."
A grin spreads across Johnny's face as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Deal," he agrees, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you, my love."
As you both leave the ice cream parlor, the cool evening air wraps around you, the gentle breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of your intertwined hands. As you both step into the cozy cafe, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, bringing back memories of the first time you met. Johnny's hand tightens around yours, his touch sending a thrill through you that's impossible to ignore.
You find a secluded booth in the corner, and as you settle in, Johnny's eyes lock with yours, a silent invitation sparking between you. "You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."
You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting here, nervously sipping our coffees," you reply, your voice filled with affection.
Johnny leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But this time," he whispers, "we don't have to be nervous." A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you meet his gaze with a newfound sense of boldness. "No, this time," you say, your voice steady and sure, "we can just be us."
With a gentle touch, Johnny cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. It's a dance of tongues and teeth, of whispered words and soft sighs, each touch igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second.
As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Johnny's eyes meet yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. "I never want to stop kissing you," he confesses, his voice thick with desire.
A smile tugs at your lips as you lean in to press another kiss to his, the promise of countless more moments like this hanging in the air between you.
~~~
As you sit at your desk, textbooks spread out before you and notes scattered across the surface, you're fully immersed in your study session. The material is dense, and you're determined to grasp every concept before the upcoming exam.
Just as you're deep in concentration, Johnny enters the room with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buried in your books. Without a word, he crosses the room and leans against your desk, his presence a distraction you can't ignore.
"Hey there, studious one," he says, his voice low and playful. "Need a break?"
You look up from your books, torn between the desire to keep studying and the temptation of Johnny's irresistible charm. "I really should finish this chapter," you reply, trying to sound firm despite the flutter in your stomach at his proximity.
But Johnny has other plans. With a swift movement, he slides your textbooks aside and pulls you to your feet, his hands finding their way to your waist as he draws you close. "I think you've earned a reward for all that hard work," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to yours.
Before you can protest, Johnny's mouth descends on yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving deeper, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all thoughts of studying as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you and the intoxicating rush of desire.
Minutes, or maybe hours, pass in a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, until finally, you break apart, breathless and flushed, the taste of Johnny still lingering on your lips. "Now that's what I call a study break," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You can't help but laugh, the tension of the study session now a distant memory as you bask in the warmth of Johnny's love and the thrill of his touch.
~~~
As you made your way back from college, the skies darkened, and before you knew it, a heavy downpour unleashed its fury upon you. The rain hammered down relentlessly, soaking you up and down. Despite the continuous ringing of your phone from within your backpack, the rain made it impossible to retrieve. With no umbrella in hand, you quickened your pace towards the bus stop, only to witness the last bus pulling away just as you rounded the corner. Desperation set in as you attempted to sprint after it, but the distance between you and the departing vehicle only widened. Defeated, you exhaled heavily, feeling the chill of the rain seeping into your bones. Seeking refuge at the bus stop, you huddled under its shelter, which wasn't helping much.
As you stood there, shivering and dripping, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping over you. The relentless rain seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. With each passing moment, your mind raced with thoughts of your worried boyfriend waiting at home, unaware of your predicament.
As you glanced down at your phone, the screen illuminated with missed calls and frantic messages from him. Frustration bubbled within you, knowing that you were only adding to his worry by being stranded in the storm. You tried to call him back, but the signal was weak, and the connection kept cutting out. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited for the next bus, the minutes ticking by like hours.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus appeared on the horizon, its headlights piercing through the darkness like a beacon of hope. With a sigh of relief, you boarded the bus, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. And soon you were standing in front of his appointment door.
As the bus finally pulled up to a stop, you hurriedly disembarked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. You practically sprinted the rest of the way home, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking you to the bone.
Finally, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment, soaked and shivering. With trembling hands, you fumbled for your keys, desperate to be inside the safety of your home. But before you could even insert the key into the lock, the door swung open, revealing a worried and furious Johnny.
"Where have you been?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and concern. "I've been trying to call you for hours! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"
"I-I'm so sorry, Johnny," you stammered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "I got caught in the storm, and I missed the bus, and...and I couldn't get through to you. I'm so sorry."
Johnny's expression softened as he took in your trembling form, his anger melting away in an instant. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm just glad you're safe," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I was so worried about you. Let's get you inside and warm you up, okay?"
You nod, feeling the weight of your backpack against the wall as you follow Johnny into the bedroom. With a quick movement, you pull your hair up, hoping to keep it from sticking to your clothes. Sensing his hands on your torso, you inhale sharply as they glide around to the front, undoing the button of your jeans. Anticipation mounts as he pulls them down, and then he sits, planting kisses on your damp thigh, eliciting a dissatisfied moan from you.
In a swift motion, your undies join the jeans on the floor. "Nice butt," he remarks, drawing a rhetorical look from you. Stepping closer, he removes the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and with it, your bra disappears too. "Beautiful as always," he murmurs, enveloping you in a warm towel and pulling you close, his lips finding your neck, leaving their mark.
"Johnny," you sigh as his hands slip under the towel, teasingly moving between your legs, knowing just where to stop, leaving you breathless. "I'll be right back, change into dry clothes, okay?" he says, his voice a tantalizing promise hanging in the air.
He returned with a steaming mug of tea, fragrant steam curling upwards in the air. He handed it to you with a tender smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your chilled fingers.
"Here, drink this," he said softly, his voice soothing.. "It'll help warm you up."
"I only need you to warm me up."
"Come here then." He motions you to sit with him in the bed he made, warm and cozy. As you lay there in Johnny's arms, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you.
"Johnny," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm so sorry for worrying you. I never meant to cause you so much distress."
Johnny's arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer to him as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered back, his voice filled with reassurance. "I was just so scared when I couldn't reach you. All I could think about was making sure you were safe."
You buried your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. "I promise I'll be more careful from now on," you vowed, your words muffled against his skin. "I never want to put you through that kind of worry again."
Johnny tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "I know you will," he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Johnny's fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, a spark of desire ignited between you, fueling the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.
"How about we finish what we started earlier?"
Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building with every breath. With a smile, you nodded in agreement, your own desire mirrored in your eyes as you leaned in to meet his lips in a fiery kiss.
The heat between you intensified quickly, passion igniting like a wildfire as your bodies melded together in a tangle of desire. Teeth clashed against each other, tongues danced in a feverish rhythm, and hands roamed eagerly, seeking out every inch of skin they could find.
With a swift movement, you straddled Johnny, taking control of the moment as you traced a path of kisses down his neck, relishing in the soft gasps and low growls that escaped his lips. As his shirt fell away, revealing his beautifully toned body beneath, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, feeling a surge of desire coursing through your veins.
Too shy to say anything, you let your actions speak for you. Lingering on his nipples, you teased and tantalized, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Johnny's lips. With each flick of your tongue and gentle nip of your teeth, the tension between you grew, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge of desire.
But you weren't done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued your exploration, trailing kisses and caresses down Johnny's torso until you reached the waistband of his jeans. With practiced hands, you teased and toyed with him through the fabric, making him harder with every stroke, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath your touch.
As his pleasured groans filled the air, you couldn't resist escalating your actions, eagerly sliding his pants down while he sat up, fixated on your every move. Locking eyes with him, you took him into your mouth, teasingly tracing the tip with your tongue, prompting a soft curse from his lips. Pulling back, you continued to lavish attention on him, savoring every moment as you licked his length, stealing glances up at him. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.
Returning to him, you gradually took more of him into your mouth, relishing in the way his hands urged you on, guiding you further down. He pulled you up for a heated kiss, expressing his desire to explore your taste. As his lips trailed down your neck, he urged you to sit on his face, igniting nerves and excitement within you. With his encouragement, you straddled his eager mouth, blushing at his sweet words as his lips planted kisses on your thighs.
Feeling his hands on your hips, he drew you closer, his tongue eagerly finding your clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. As his hands explored your body, adding to your arousal, you couldn't help but cry out in bliss as he skillfully pleasured you,
As your pleasure surged, you couldn't contain your cries, feeling the intensity of his actions. "Oh, fuck," escaped your lips as he intensified his efforts, his mouth and tongue working fervently on your clit. His suction grew stronger, his tongue moving with increasing speed, drawing out guttural moans from you. "Oh my god," you exclaimed as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, "fuck," you moaned as he persisted in his ministrations.
His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, he delved deeper into your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god, don't stop," you gasped, your breath ragged as you requested his fingers. With a calm demeanor, he complied, easing his fingers into you, eliciting a blissful moan from your lips. As he continued to pleasure you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside you, your cries of ecstasy filled the room.
"Oh my god," you moaned aloud as he momentarily paused, only to reposition himself behind you. Bending you slightly, he inserted two fingers, drawing out a soft, pleasurable moan from you. With relentless determination, he showed no mercy, driving you towards another peak of pleasure. The sound of slick noises filled the air as his fingers worked expertly within you, pushing your head gently into the headboard to ensure your stability as you surrendered to his touch.
As his hand pressed you down onto his fingers, a fervent moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming you. "Oh my god," you cried out as he intensified his movements, driving you wild with desire. With increasing speed and force, his fingers plunged into you, eliciting a chorus of ecstatic moans from your lips.
Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, his command clear. "Turn around," he instructed, guiding you gently as you complied, meeting his intense gaze. Enveloped in his embrace, you shared a deep, passionate kiss, his desire evident in his words as he broke the connection. "I want to fuck you," he declared, and you eagerly nodded in agreement, urgency coursing through your veins.
Pushed onto the bed, your legs spread wide, you watched as he knelt between them, his eyes fixated on your dripping arousal. His finger traced circles on your swollen clit, then slipped inside you, claiming you as his own. "Mine," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you nodded in submission, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours," you affirmed, anticipation building in the air.
With a hungry look, he licked his lips before slowly entering you with his cock, causing you to gasp in ecstasy. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he began to move within you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the brink of pleasure.
As he increased the pace, driving into you with fervent desire, your cries of ecstasy filled the room. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he relentlessly fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his declaration of love mingling with the sounds of your pleasure. "I love you," he murmured against your lips, his words igniting a fire within you.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reciprocated his declaration, your voice filled with desire. "I love you too," you confessed as he continued to ravish you with his relentless thrusts. With a swift motion, he withdrew from you, flipping you onto your stomach. "Get on all fours," he commanded, assisting you into position.
Meeting his gaze over your shoulder, you were met with a declaration of your beauty, sending shivers down your spine. As he entered you from behind, a rush of anticipation flooded your senses. His movements became more intense, driving into you harder and faster, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips. "Oh my god," you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.
Feeling his hand reach around to play with your clit, a surge of pleasure washed over you, intensifying the pleasure building within. "Oh my god," you moaned again, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body aching for release.
As he took control, holding both your hands behind your back, you surrendered to him completely. Your petite frame under his dominance, your face buried into the sheets muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. Sensing his impending release, you knew you were on the brink of ecstasy.
With a few final, deep thrusts, you both succumbed to the ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric crescendo. As he pulled out, licking you clean, you whimpered from the overstimulation, your body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.
a sense of blissful exhaustion washed over you both. Lying tangled together under the sheet, hearts racing and skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. As you caught your breath, he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulders, his touch gentle and tender. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration as he caressed your cheek. You smiled up at him. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished, the weight of the world melting away as sleep begins to claim you. Drifting off with the rhythmic beat of his heart as your lullaby, you rest easy knowing that you are safe. And you finally know, what love actually feels like
~~~
hope you liked it. umh? idk tried, if you want to request anything, please do. (it'll take forever but ill respond)
please check out other works m.list
and enjoy, have a good day, night~
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Can I request a Yuta Nakamoto best friend smut? With female reader...
-🫣anon
I like your hands…
yuta x afab reader
warnings (wtf are you doing on smut tumblr as a minor?): smut, friends turned situationship, more smut, hand kink…
it was finally the weekend after a week that felt like a month! you needed to chill, take a breath, get some needed sleep, meditate… but that wasn’t going to happen, for you were going to a concert that evening. not that you minded… you were going to watch your best friend Yuta perform live, something you have always wanted to witness. but before that you had to do grown-up stuff… like shower and make yourself food and go get groceries… ugh!
just as you were about to exit your apartment to go get some groceries, your phone rings in your bag. it’s Yuta (your bestie) asking if you wanted to go for a quick brunch (that sounded so millennial I’m sorry). you agreed after being hesitant… you wondered where he got the time since he was literally performing that evening to thousands of people. you quickly pack the rest of your bag and sprint to the cafe he said to meet up at.
the cafe was fancy to say the least. you walked through the cafe doors and saw Yuta sitting in the middle of the room, already drinking a coffee. he doesn’t notice you until you’re right next to him. he quickly stands and gives you a hug ‘hi y/n, how have you been?’ he asks, pulling your seat out for you to sit. ‘I’ve been good… busy but good.’ you reply, settling your bag to the side. ‘shouldn’t you be preparing for a crowd of thousands at the moment’ you ask, looking into his eyes. damn, his eyes are really pretty now that you’re actually noticing and his hair compliments his skin tone a little too much to your liking. ‘We have a few hours before the concert and I knew you were coming to watch… thought we could chat a bit since we’ve both been busy and out of touch’ he says, grabbing your hand that was on the table and holding it. His hands are… fucking beautiful to say the least. it’s like Aphrodite sculpted every vein and crease on his hands, wrists… wow. ‘Would you like to order something?’ Yuta asks as the waiter is standing next to you… you must’ve gotten lost in a trance while looking at Yuta’s hands… you were weak!
after your meeting, Yuta walked with you back to your car, a awkward silence filled the air. ‘y/n, is there anything you’re insecure about?’ he asks, not in a offensive way, he was genuinely curious. ‘I don’t know, I think I’m insecure about everything and nothing at the same time. some days I feel pretty and other days I feel like dog shit’ you answer, Yuta looking at you confused. ‘Is there anything you’re insecure about?’ you ask in return. he takes a while to get to something that makes him feel insecure… ‘I don’t like my hands that much.’ you are shocked to say the least… ‘why, your hands are so pretty?’ you ask, a reprimanding tone in your voice. ‘I don’t know, I just wouldn’t list it as something that makes me attractive.’ he replies, you still shocked by his statement. you finally reach your car as Yuta greets you. ‘I should go get ready for tonight’s concert…’ you say, Yuta turning away and walking. ‘oh… and I like your hands…’ you say to him across the parking lot. you didn’t see it but he smiled and blushed so hard he could barely keep a straight face.
you arrive at the stadium for the concert, lines waiting for their tickets to get scanned. it was packed and you knew it was going to be a suffocating environment, however that didn’t matter for you were supporting your BEST FRIEND (which you told yourself constantly after your encounter at the cafe that morning). the show starts, people screaming and shouting, lights flashing… it was incredibly entertaining and somewhat nostalgic. the other members were amazing but your eyes were focused on Yuta… a little too much honestly. you started wondering mid concert if you were falling hard for the dude who lies like it’s a language and calls you bro as if it’s your first name. to be honest you tuned out so hard that before you knew it, the concert ended. people were leaving and the seats next to you were empty as you were just standing there lifelessly in a state of thought. you snapped back to reality shortly, got your things and went to go greet the guys backstage.
as you entered the backstage area you saw the other members either cooling off, eating or chatting with one another or other fans with a backstage pass, but you couldn’t see Yuta. you figured he was tired and probably wanted to be alone, so you greeted some of the guys but eventually left soon after. as you were heading for the exit of the backstage area, Yuta runs after you. ‘y/n where are you going?’ he asks slightly out of breath from running and performing for like… 2-ish hours. ‘I didn’t see you backstage so I thought you were tired or getting dressed…’ in that moment as you looked at him you realized he was shirtless. ‘I’m sorry, I wanted to change quickly before I saw you, I look all sweaty…’ he says shyly, and you won’t lie you would lick that sweat anytime! ‘I was wondering if you’d like a drink? Tea?’ he asked, gesturing to go to his dressing room. You couldn’t say no cause he looked all sexy with sweat dripping down his neck and he still smelled like an angel and his hair was all messy and his tattoos look all pretty and his belly button piercing was shining and his… you were WEAK!
as you entered his dressing room, you realized you were the only ones in there. he closed the door behind you and showed you to the couch in the room, which was conveniently facing the mirror. ‘so what do you want to drink?’ Yuta asks, walking across the room to the small fridge in the corner. ‘I have beer, whiskey, vodka, wine…’ he says, rummaging through the little fridge. ‘tea or a glass of water would be nice…’ you reply, Yuta laughing at your response. ‘you’re really boring.’ he says, pouring himself some whiskey and putting the kettle on for your tea. ‘I have to drive home…’ you reminded him. he sits down next to you on the couch, handing you your tea. ‘thanks for supporting me tonight, I really appreciate it.’ he thanks you, turning himself slightly to face you. ‘not as much as the fans appreciated it though…’ you say, gesturing to his still naked torso. ‘oh sorry… am I making you uncomfortable?’ he asks sarcastically, placing his hands on his chest to cover himself up. you once again notice his hands and how attractive every vein running down his arms are. he notices you staring, the air becomes thick and you completely zone out. subconsciously you both move closer to one another, both of you trying to keep focus but you just end up saying weird shit to one another and without even thinking you’re on his lap.
your lips are centimeters apart, foreheads touching and your heavy, nervous breathing seals the deal. his lips meet yours as his hand travels up your neck to your hair and grips tightly, your hands cupping the sides of his face and his other hand making it’s way under your underwear. ‘we should stop…’ you say breathlessly in an attempt to potentially save your friendship. ‘no we don’t…’ Yuta replies kissing you harder than before, his tongue intertwining with yours (and your friendship leaving the door). he flips you over so that he is hovering over you on the couch, his hands lifting your shirt up and throwing it on the ground. your bare torso feels the cold sensation of his rings as his hands roam your body, snaking down to your pants. he quickly removes your pants and throws them to the side, his hands moving towards your core. you look up to see yourself naked in the reflection of the mirror, seeing only Yuta’s back and head. he moves down to your heat, his head between your thighs and all you can see is the filthy reflection of you two in the mirror. he starts eating you out, making it impossible to keep quiet. ‘let them hear you…’ he says, moving his fingers toward your entrance and entering two fingers. his tongue licking your clit and his fingers moving in and out of you got you in a trance. ‘Yuta, I’m close…’ you say heavily, earning a grin from him. ‘cum around these pretty fingers you like so much…’ he says, pushing in and out of you faster until your cumming and squirting all over his hands and face. ‘such a good girl…’ he says, wiping his face with his dry hand.
you hear his belt unbuckle, his pants falling slowly to the floor. you feel embarrassed all naked like this, especially in front of your (former) best friend. ‘fuck, you’re beautiful…’ he says, finally removing his underwear to reveal his dick. even his dick was pretty, you don’t know how someone can be this attractive. just looking at his bare body, hooded eyes, tattoos and piercings could feed your fantasies and make you cum. ‘you look so cute naked… we might have to do this more often so I could see how cute you can get’ he says, teasing your entrance with his dick. ‘stop teasing me, please…’ you manage to whimper. ‘what do you want me to do then?’ he asks devilishly, removing himself from your entrance. ‘I want you to fuck me…’ and before you could end the sentence, he was fucking you hard. the sounds echoing in the room as his dick slams in and out of you, you’re heavy panting adding to the atmosphere. his left hand moving to your neck, slightly choking you. the sensation arousing you even further, it made you smile even. his right holds your one thigh, pushing it against your body as he moves even faster than before… you were going insane. your toes were curling from the pleasure, you knew you weren’t gonna last any longer and neither was he. ‘I’m gonna cum…’ you moan softly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second after he was looking at your body the entire time. ‘cum for me…’ he pants in your ear, his abdominal muscles contracting with every thrust. ‘fuck you feel so good…’ Yuta says, earning a grin from you. before you could even think of anything else to say, you reached your high again. cum pouring out of you, your body shaking from what just happened. Yuta slowly pulls out and watches the cum drip down onto the couch, the sight making him want more.
before you could gather your senses he flipped you over once again so that you were straddling him. he looked into your eyes as you were hovering over him, his lips meeting yours again. he moves his lips to your neck, then to your chest as he leaves marks all over your body. ‘turn around’ he says, signaling for you to turn around so that you were facing the mirror on top of him. you quickly face the other way, now looking at yourself in the mirror and Yuta’s hands crawling along the sides of your body, one moving to your neck, the other moving to your clit. he starts circling your clit while kissing your neck from the back, him looking at your sensual reflection as well. the moans coming from you filled the room (and the hallway) as his hand moved faster around your clit. you were close to climaxing but before you could Yuta removes his hand and places it on your thigh. he lifts you slightly over his dick and he starts thrusting into you from below, your body automatically syncing up with his thrusts. the sight of you bouncing on his dick made him feel a certain way, and him knowing you’re seeing yourself all ruined like this made him even more turned on. ‘look at how pretty you are, fucked raw…’ he whispers into your ear, your core clenching at his words. ‘I want you to see how cute you look when my cum leaks out of you…’ he says thrusting even harder as if it was even possible. the hand that was on your neck moved to your breast, teasing your nipple as you were so close to cumming for the third time that evening. ‘Yuta I can’t…’ you say breathlessly, you can’t hold it in anymore. you were reaching your high for the third time but Yuta didn’t stop thrusting in and out of you until you were a cumming, squirting mess. his dick hitting you so deep it felt like you were gonna break. when he finally pulls out of you, he takes your jaw in his hand and he forces you to look at your reflection in the mirror. he forced you to look at your fucked out face, shaking body, heaving chest and the cum running down your thighs.
he gently lifts you up and places you down on the (not cum smeared part) couch. ‘see this is what happens when you compliment me!’ he says, giving you a kiss to the forehead. he went to the bathroom to go clean up and you were understandably confused and shocked. you gather your clothes that were on the floor and you quickly put them on. you look at the cup of tea on the table and you feel sorry for everything it just witnessed.
‘I should get going.’ you say as Yuta comes out of the bathroom. ‘Hey, wait…’ Yuta says, trying to stop you from leaving. ‘What?’ you ask, kinda confused and rattled by everything that just happened. you were expecting Yuta to end the friendship. you thought he wanted to cut all ties with you now that things were awkward as fuck. Yuta looked into your eyes and he asks you… ‘I was wondering… there is a new Sanrio store that opened and I was wondering if you’d like to go check it out with me?’
thanks for reading… I absolutely loved this request, we need more people like anon who asks and requests what society needs! this is inspired by my love for Yuta’s hands cause when I see them hands I started barking like a damn dog!
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Poison
Summary : you've got a new roommate and for your surprise he's your childhood friend's step brother and one day you go to their home town
Pairs : childhood friends!yuta x fem!reader x roommate!shotaro
Warings : SMUT, poly, threesome,dick sucking, kinda degradation, yuta is kinda mean,creamie pie,cum eating, nipple play
W.C : 3.1k.
A/N : I came back after a while and I might do individual parts for each one :/
Since you were a child you always liked your mom's friend’s son , nakamoto yuta or yuta , you two always played around like any children, you two went to the same school, and hang out with each other a lot , it was until ms.nakamoto and her husband decided to move back to Japan, it was like breaking news for you , you won't see your first love anymore, but not all the and good things remain for too long, you both said your last goodbyes to each other , yuta was one of your few friends, now who will play with you in school and who will have these sleepovers with you and play hide and seek with you , it was heartbreaking for you, but you gotta move on and find new friends.
it was hard for you to make friends since you had the fear of them leaving you and that caused anxiety,but luckily you were popular, you were popular for being smart,pretty,an athlete and religious., you were in a strictly religious family, you knew about morals,went to church,you never had sex. Your mom always told you to wait for the right time. , everybody knew you as the smart , pretty girl, boys tried asking you out but ends up escaping from them cause they wanna hookup , you graduated from high school and got a scholarship in spain , you left the country, your parents, friends, memories, to go and start a new life, that college was one of the biggest colleges in spain , you were smart , but it was filled with smart people anyways , you always got your assignments done and always got good grades , every teacher liked you, all students wanted to be your friend
“Did you hear about that new student?” Your friend asked.
“No I didn't, who is it?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.
“He has a brother who was really popular here for being smart and handsome , you really don't know?” Your friend asked
“No, who is that?” You asked curiously
“The new student is called osaki shotaro,and his brother is called nakamoto yuta”
“Oh , well I'm willing to see the new student then” you chuckle and roll your eyes, you thought about it for a while, the name nakamoto yuta felt familiar, you heard it before, you weren't sure if it was him but you remember he didn't have a brother
“How are they brothers?” You asked curiously
“What do you mean?” Your friend raises her eyebrows
“Like yuta’s last name is nakamoto, while shotaro’s last name is osaki , how are they siblings?” You raise your eyebrows and scratch your head
“They're probably step siblings unless one of them is adopted , it doesn't matter they're both cute” you chuckle at her comment and roll your eyes.
Time goes by the weekend comes while you were just chilling at your dorm , they informed you that the new student will be your roommate , you were just nervous, yes you had friends, but you still had anxiety talking to people was one of your worst fears , you tried calming yourself down but you couldn't help but panic and shake
It was until you heard the door unlock , you take a deep breath before you put on a smile
You heard footsteps until you saw someone come in
“Oh hello , you must be my roommate” he noted and smiles back at you
“Oh yeah it's nice to meet you I'm y/n” you offer your hand as he shakes it
“Well don't mind me , my brother is getting some of things” he says and smiles
“No it's okay, moving out must be really hard” you smile back and help him move his things
You heard footsteps once again assuming it was his brother
“Here you go , god you got a lot of things” you can hear his brother talking
“oh I'm sorry but I'm just kinda nervous, also meet my roommate, y/n come here!” he calls you out, you turn around to face the two men
“Oh hello , I'm y/n nice to meet you” you walk toward them and smile
“Oh hi y/n I'm yuta , nice to meet you too” he smiles and offers his hand, you shake his hand for few seconds and let go of his hand
And smile softly , he felt familiar, he looked familiar, you really wished it was him but at the same time not
“Okay now I'm going, have fun at your new place, take care of yourself” yuta says and hugs his brother tightly
“Thank you yuta , I'll miss you so much, take care of yourself too” he hugs his brother back you were just standing awkwardly, they finally pulled, and yuta leaves as shotaro, lock the door, he sighs and sits on the bed for a while
“I hope we become good friends” you said with a smile
“Yeah, same here !!” He smiles sweetly, gosh his smile was so cute , you wished he smiles like that forever
“Did they give you the schedule?” You asked quietly
“ahh yes they did” he smiles and hands you a paper
“Oh well have the same classes” you say excitedly
“Oh really? Well that will be nice” he says sweetly and smiles softly.
Time goes by , you and shotaro developed a really good friendship , you two hung out together a lot , ate dinner after college, studied together, some people even thought you were dating , sometimes it was funny seeing people saying that the two of you look cute together, you will admit you have a tiny crush on shotaro, but you never knew if it was just a crush or actually love , he invited you to meet his family multiple times in japan but you refuse since you have projects and work to do, he told you that him and yuta are step brothers and that his father and yuta's mother are married since they were both children, now it was understandable why their surnames were different
Days went by and the first year of college is finally done , your plans were to go to meet your family back in your mother country
Shotaro also insisted that you go with him back to Japan to meet his family, you tried to refuse multiple times but he said that his parents wanted to see you so you finally gave up and decided to meet his parents, he told you can stay at their house since they have a guest room , you packed decent clothes , that looked good ,not too formal not too casual so they don't think of her in a bad image or something, you and shotaro finally arrive to japan and yuta welcomes you two
“Yuta omg I missed you” shotaro runs to yuta and hugs him tightly both of them have a smile on their faces
“I miss you too,mom and dad miss you alot they're also waiting impatiently to meet your friend” they both look at you while you stand awkwardly while your luggage is behind you
“Oh hi yuta” you smile and wave.you can hear him chuckle
“Let me take this” he walks to take the luggage from behind you and walks forward with shotaro and you behind them ,both of them sit in the front seats while you're in the backseat , “mom told me to take you both to a restaurant since she's kinda sick to cook food” yuta says
“Is she okay yuta?” Shotaro asks in a worried tone
“Yes she is, but you know mom always overworks herself” yuta sighs and parks the car
“Okay you two get out of the car” yuta says looking at you with a soft smile , you smile back and get out of the car , you went into the restaurant, it was selling Japanese, you heard shotaro complain sometimes to yuta about how much he misses the Japanese food, everyone ordered their food and after finishing yuta paid and he drove home, he unlocks the door, his parents were sitting together watching the tv
“We're home!!” Yuta yelled excitedly
“Oh god shotaro you're home finally” his dad smiles and hugs him tightly
“I'm assuming you're y/n right?” His mom asked you , she looked familiar to you
“Ah yes I am” you smile and nod
“You look familiar oh my , it's hard to remember oh god” she stares at you for few seconds
“Oh my , you're y/n , now I remembered, I'm ms.nakamoto do you remember me? You and yuta used to play together alot” you finally realized why did she look familiar
“Oh !! Yes of course I do remember “ you smile awkwardly as she hugs you tightly
“Yuta !! Come here” she yells, as yuta walks over , his red coloured bangs nearly covering his eyes , he was beautiful as always, since you were kids they always talked about how yuta looked handsome and his charm, girls at school always had a crush on him
“What is it mom?” He questions and raises his eyebrows
“That's y/n !! , the girl you used to play with back when you were a child, remember ? Before we come here” she asks him excitedly
“ahh yes I remember now, it's nice to meet you again y/n” he smiles softly, you smile back to him and nod slightly,Mrs.nakamoto started to ask you about your life and family and talked about her memories with your mom , since they knew each other from childhood , it was nice to hear about all these things after a long time , time passes and everyone goes to bed , shotaro leads you to the room you're supposed to stay at, there wasn't a bed , shotaro looks confusedly and calls his dad
“What happened to the furniture in this room?!” Shotaro asks with a slightly annoyed tone
“Well me and your mother decided to turn it into an office or a small library” his father smiles nervously
“she can sleep at your room shotaro don't be lame” his dad says
Shotaro looks at you in an embarrassed look on his face and sighs
“Follow me y/n…goodnight dad” he says and holds one of your hands leading you to his bedroom , shotaro was always nice and smiley if anyone needed anything they depend on him since he always looks nice and smiley to everyone
He opens his room, “ welcome to my room I guess” His room was warm colored with light brown , beige , etc. , it made you feel really relaxed and chill
“Your room looks great!!” You note and look at him with a smile, h looks at you and smiles warmly, his smile makes you melt , how can he be so cute , you always wondered
“You can sleep on the bed I'll sleep on the floor” he says and sighs
“No no it's okay , we can share the bed , but if you're uncomfortable, I'll be the one sleeping on the floor”
“Well…that's better than sleeping on the floor I guess” he says and chuckles, yo smile at his joke , and both of you lay on the bed ,it wasn't that big , your hands were touching
“Goodnight y/n” he whispers and gives his back to you
“Goodnight” you say and also turn and now your back was also facing him, you don't sleep really quickly, you can feel him moving you doubt that he's asleep, he turns to your side and wraps his hand around your waist,that move made heat , you felt yourself burning,you feel his hard dick against your ass and it made it worst,he was moving and rubbing his dick against your ass for way too much but can you blame him? He was asleep, you tried moving a little but there was no space, you just gave up and tried to sleep again,his arm tightened around your waist as you feel his hard cock against your ass, you were ready to get fucked at this point, you tried to calm down take your breath and relax , with his warm breath against your neck , his cock against your ass, his arm around your waist, it was hard for you to not moan, trying to resist it, you feel his body move slightly, you pretended to be sleeping in case he woke up
“Y/n are you awake?” He says in a sleepy voice , he always knew you had troubles sleeping so there was no point of lying
“Yes I am awake, do you need anything?” You asked trying to keep your voice low
“No , I was making sure , if you're uncomfortable I can sleep on the ground” he says , his voice was also low , and it turned you on even more
“No no it's okay, you know I always have troubles sleeping it's okay” you say and smile you weren't sure if he saw you smiling cuz it was really dark, he nods and hugs you tightly and kisses your neck, you didn't even try to fight him, you feel his other hand cupping one of your butt cheeks. you moan slightly as our fingers runs through his hair, he keeps kissing your neck and squeezing your ass. You tease him by playing with his waistband
He grabs your hand and puts it on his erection , “this is how you make me feel everytime gosh” he whispers and kisses your neck, “well, can I help you get rid of your problem?” You can hear him chuckle
“Oh I'd love to.” He sits straight and unbutton his pants and removes it , you help him get rid of his pants and boxers, his dick was screaming, hard and leaking pre-cum. You put the tip in your mouth, hearing him groan and curse under his breaths
“Aah fuck , you're so good at that god” he says thrusting his hips and moan , trying to keep it low so no one can hear them, you keep sucking him off and he moans , his moans were like music to your ears , it sounded amazing like a melody , time passes and you're still in the same position sucking him off , you can hear the door open, you froze in your place as you hear footsteps in the room
“What are you two doing at this late hour?” Yuta asks shotaro
“We were just having fun yuta oh my god” shotaro says and shrugs
“Keep going y/n , who knows you can suck him off next” shotaro says and yuta chuckles
“You're really shameless” yuta says and rolls his eyes, you close your eyes tightly due the embarrassment, you can feel your face heating and getting red , you wanted to hide anytime soon
“It looks like she's good at what she's doing” yuta says and laugh
“Oh hell yeah she is , she knows how to use her mouth properly, you gotta try it yourself” shotaro says , his voice was shaky and weak due to the pleasure
“Oh , now I'm interested” yuta says, his voice is low and deeper , you keep sucking shotaro’s dick until you feel warm liquid in your mouth, you can hear him groan as he pulls his dick out of your mouth, you swallow all the cum in your mouth, you feel your hair being pulled , you guess it was yuta , he settles you between his legs, he has already removed his pants, he taps the tip Infront of your lips waiting for you to open your mouth, as you open your mouth you feel his dick in your mouth, “ you knew you can't resist now , you mom told you to wait for the right person but who listens to their moms anyway? , you start bobbing your head up and down in a slight and slow motion , you can hear him groan and moan slightly
“Fuck it , you're too good, damn you were right” yuta says in a low voice , you can hear shotaro chuckle as you suck his brother's dick , you keep sucking yuta off , he throws his head back and moans , his voice was smooth and low , it kept going like that for few minutes until you felt him come in your mouth , you pull his dick out of your mouth and lay on the floor, you felt tired and sleepy
“Not right now,babe,we still have all night long” yuta says , shotaro helps you get off the floor and makes you lay on the bed instead , he gets on the bed next to you and starts tracing kisses on neck and chest while yuta settles between your legs after removing your pants and underwear, you can feel his half-hard dick right against your entrance ,until you felt him inside you , biting your lower lips trying to hold the argue to moan, while shotaro is busy sucking one of your nipples while squeezing the other one between his thumb and index as his older brother keeps fucking you and curses under his breath.
“That shit feels good fuck” yuta says , his voice was a little shaky
“You're just a fucking toy” you couldn't even answer cause you know you won't shut your mouth after that
“Aren't you just a cock sleeve , stupid bitch” you just nod as he thrust deeper inside you, shotaro sucking your nipple didn't make the situation better , you felt like you reached your climax and close your eyes as you feel your release
“Fuck baby you made a mess” yuta whispers as he grinds faster and takes a bit of your cum with his fingers and taste you then kisses you making you taste the salty taste of your orgasm, he finally feels the urge to cum as you feel his warm seeds inside you and shotaro finally let go of your nipples, you felt exhausted but they had other plans, shotaro and yuta switchs places , shotaro settles between your legs while yuta starts kissing your lips hungrliy while shotaro enters his dick inside you, you moan inside yuta's mouth, while shotaro groans slightly as he moves slowly, he was the opposite of his brother, slow and gentle while yuta was fast and rough but you enjoyed both anyways ,as shotaro starts thrusting faster and yuta cups your breasts and pinch your nipples between his fingers , shotaro's hair falls on his face and sticks to his forehead due to the sweat, he thrusts his hips against yours , your moans were starting to get loud until yuta wraps his hands around your neck making you choke while shotaro thrusts faster now ,tears filling your eyes , vision blurry, you can't even think properly, and all you're hearing is the sound of shotaro's body slamming against yours , you feel like you reached your climax finally, your eyes roll bsck as you release all your juice , he pulls out of you and your pussy clench around nothing, while shotaro comes all on your stomach,yuta's lips captures yours as he let go of your neck , you close your eyes and breath heavily, you felt yourself passing out. You wake in clean clothes next to shotaro, his arms were wrapped around you holding you close to him, his face buried in your neck
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No Friendship || Kinktober - Day 27
pairing ▸ nakamoto yuta × f!reader
now playing ▸ okay - chase atlantic
⤷ ❝don't wanna mess this up, there's too much on the line.❞
genre ▸ college au, bsf!yuta, fwb, smut
warnings ▸ thigh fucking, choking, marking, quick sex
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You were having fun at a random frat boy's birthday bash, dancing with some guy your roommate introduced to you.
You've had a couple drinks and smoked half a blunt, but had more than enough energy to last the entire night.
The guy gets a little handsy, but you don't mind since your goal was to hopefully get laid.
Your best friend wasn't having it, though.
Yuta: That's enough for you. Come with me.
The guy was going to tell Yuta off, but his icy glare makes him back off.
Y/n: Yuyu! Where've you been?
Your words are slightly slurred, but it's still coherent enough to understand.
Yuta: Was talking with Johnny about a job opportunity. What were you doing?
Y/n: Dancing!
Yuta: Uh huh... Let's get you some water and I'll take you upstairs.
You giggle, not minding being dragged up the stairs and into someone else's bedroom.
Y/n: Are you gonna fuck me, Yuta?
He rolls his eyes and hands you a water bottle.
He forgets just how horny you get when you've partied too hard. He remembers you begging to suck him off at the last party so he let you have your fun.
But you weren't as far gone as you are now.
Yuta: I'm not fucking you.
You whine, sitting up and pulling him closer by his belt loop. You takes his fingers into your mouth and suck on them while maintaining eye contact.
Y/n: I'll be a very good girl.
Yuta: Still not fucking you, so drop it.
Y/n: Then I'll go find someone who will!
You push passed him and open the door, but Yuta slams it shut.
Yuta: Stop being a fucking brat. You're cross-faded. That's why I'm not gonna fuck you.
You wrap your arms around his neck and jump on him. Your legs sit perfectly on his hips, his hands holding your ass so you don't fall.
Y/n: I thought we had a talk about this when we started fucking. It's even on paper.
Yeah, but it doesn't make it right.
Y/n: You don't even have to stick it in.
Yuta: I don't?
You shake your head and kiss all over his face.
Y/n: Why don't we just have intercrural sex?
Say what?
Yuta: What the fuck is that?
Y/n: You know, like if you were to fuck my tits but it's my thighs instead.
Oh.
Well, it's certainly a better option.
Yuta: Are you sure?
You nod, catches his lips in a gentle kiss.
Yuta: Fine. Hop off and get naked.
You do as you're told and help him out of his clothes.
You lock the door before crawling into the stranger's bed. You apologize in advance for your dirty actions, but you're not really sorry.
Yuta lays behind you, cock slotting between your thighs.
The friction was dry for the most part until his cock slid against your folds for a few seconds.
Y/n: Oh, fuck.
Yuta: Be good and I might just fuck you.
Y/n: Yes, Sir.
He repositions himself in your thighs and ruts his hips against your ass.
The way his cock sends tingles up your legs has you melting in his arms. His hand tightens around your throat as he kisses the nape of your neck.
His leaking tip gives him more than enough lubricant for his cock to slide effortlessly between your thighs.
You moan, choking a bit due to his fingers pressing lightly on the sides of your neck. He honestly didn't expect to get this aroused, but he likes it.
Y/n: You gonna cum for me, Sir?
Yuta: Where do you want my cum, baby?
Y/n: Inside me.
Yuta: Yeah? Think you deserve it?
Y/n: Yes. I deserve to be filled like a slut.
Yuta: Not like a slut, like my slut.
You gasp in surprise when his cock "accidentally" slips passed your entrance and hits your most desired spot.
He switches positions, kneeling right behind you. He pushes your head deep into the pillows to muffle your screams of pleasure.
You desperately grab at the sheets, walls clenching around him. Goosebumps decorate your entire body right before your vision blurs.
He pounds into your aching cunt, cum spilling deep inside you.
He pulls out and cleans your pussy with his tongue. He even lets you get a taste with a deep kiss.
Yuta: Feeling better, baby?
Y/n: Much better. Can we rest before going back out?
Yuta: Sure. Just don't make it obvious that we fucked. This is Jaehyun's room.
That sobers you up.
There's no fucking way.
Y/n: My brother?!
---
a/n: LMAO, i'm insane. also, this is probably the shortest thing i've ever written ო̤̫ oh well!! thanks for reading ‹𝟹
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monster
pairing ↠ johnny x you (ft. yuta)
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, choking, use of a gun
summary ↠ with news of a series of local deadly burglaries going around, you’re terrified of being the latest victim, but it’s the fault of your own disobedient nature that subjects you to a more potent kind of danger.
wc ↠ 3.0k
a/n ↠ this is a repost!
don’t like it, don’t read.
breaking: following a series of home invasions in the area, police recommend locals lock their doors.
for the past couple of weeks, the local news channel had mimicked a similar kind of warning. during the span of those weeks, nine burglaries had occurred; two involving death.
you were hoping you wouldn’t be the third.
authorities reported that the culprit only entered homes with the intention of theft, and only when the occupants became an obstacle were they murdered. as if that was supposed to be relieving. you were no more in favor of being robbed than you were being killed, but you knew which one would be worse.
to make matters worse, that criminal was a damn good one. nine successful home invasions - some even in the same neighborhood - and all the police had on him was a poor quality CCTV footage image of the man in a mask. either he was an excellent thief, or the police were terrible.
lock your doors, they said. as if those innocent people hadn’t kept their doors locked. what use was it when the burglar knew how to pick locks and avoid homes with security? you might as well have left your doors and windows wide open, offered to him your belongings - and your lives - on a silver platter.
“don’t be silly, babe,” said your friend yuta over the phone. he was assuring you that nothing would happen to you, or at least trying to. “everything’s gonna be fine. you should stay at taeyong’s tonight though just to be safe - you know he’s got good security.”
you bit your lip. it was a great idea. you had to give credit where credit was due; the thief, whoever he was, was meticulous, steering clear of houses where security was present. with multiple of the invasions taking place in the same neighborhoods it was almost like a taunt to the police. “i’ll talk to him,” you said. and much like some of your other neighbors, you made a note to yourself to invest in a home security system.
“don’t be a disobedient soul,” he drawled teasingly. given your tendency to rebel, the nickname was bestowed upon you by your group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. “i’ll talk to him!”
“good. call me, okay?” yuta told you, and you nodded as if he could see you, a habit you had yet to break.
“you just nodded, didn’t you?”
“shut up,” you said lightheartedly, giggling bashfully.
yuta laughed, but positively didn’t stay around to tease you. “talk to you later.”
“buh-bye.”
the call cut and your phone hit the coffee table. you never winded up calling taeyong. you didn’t intend to lie to yuta, but you had already spent the night at taeyong’s - and some of your other friend’s and family with better security than you - too many times before and you didn’t like the feeling it gave you to depend on them so constantly. of course, it was better to be safe than sorry, but one night on your own wouldn’t hurt.
besides, if someone broke in, you doubted they’d head for your bedroom. you’d just pretend to be asleep and pray it was all over soon.
spoiler alert: that was not what happened.
in the middle of the night you roused from your slumber in pursuit of one thing; water. but upon glancing over to your nightstand, you noticed your glass was empty.
you almost didn’t move, almost forced yourself to fall right back asleep and not dare move a muscle. but awake, your mouth became dry at the possibilities of what could happen to you and anyone that knew you.
i’ll only be a second, you assured yourself, rushing into the kitchen. nothing’ll happen. everything will be fine.
it all happened so fast.
a brimming glass of water in your hand, you twisted your body towards the direction of your bedroom yet only made it one step before you heard a noise. never had you paused dead in your tracks so quickly. the noise became clear to you - the sound of your front doorknob.
you wanted to believe that you were simply so paranoid to the extent of making up sounds in your head, and frankly you had before, but this was different; this was real.
like a bolt of lightning, you struck behind the counter, accidentally spilling water onto the floor, but that was the least of your concerns. you ducked behind the island, pressing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. regret plagued your heart as now, more than ever, you wished that you would have listened to yuta. you forgot to even call him back, and now there was no telling if you ever would.
the noise didn’t last very long, merely seconds before it turned into that of the front door being opened and shut, followed by footsteps. part of you wanted to peek, though aside from it being awfully risky, you were too stunned to move. your heartbeat throbbed in your ears and you could feel it hammering in your chest against your knees.
so much for locking your doors. you were going to hold your middle finger to the police in a big ‘fuck you’ after this was over - if you made it out alive, that was.
those heavy, unnerving footsteps were the sole noise to cut through the ear-splitting silence. they headed somewhere down the hall and you heaved a big sigh of relief, then drew another in as if that was all the oxygen that the world had left to spare. somehow you were breathing so fast yet not at all.
in your brief, short-lived fit of relief, your body went slack, and your knee ultimately knocked over the glass that you had forgotten was there. instantly your muscles tensed again, and your fit of relief turned into an outbreak of fear.
“fuck,” you whispered to yourself and bit your lip. the footsteps returned merely seconds later and you immediately tried to regulate your breath in an effort to remain silent as possible. you prayed to the above that your life wasn’t over.
louder, the footsteps got. quicker. and louder, and quicker, and quicker, and louder. tears began to well from your eyes as terror and your regrets overcame you. you should’ve did this, you should’ve did that. and now that you hadn’t, the price was yours to pay.
all of a sudden, the footsteps paused, and somehow that was more unnerving than the sound of constant moving. you were tucked into yourself, doing your best to be still yet not fully conscious of the fact you were shivering with fear. please, the tiny voice in your head begged for mercy.
and then, the footsteps continued again. and your heart sank when you saw a shadow from around the island close in on you, until another, masked figure crouched down before you.
it was when you saw the gun tucked to his side that you lost all hope. it was over.
“found you,” said the masked man through a semi-muffled voice, his tone lighthearted. the vast majority of his face was concealed, though if it weren’t, you would have noticed the smile creep across his face as he saw every ounce of faith in your body instantly die.
found you, he had said in a teasing tone, as if this were hide and seek. maybe that’s all this was to him; a really big, really unfair game.
you said nothing. you were too shocked and far too scared to move a muscle, including your tongue.
“this little hiding spot of yours would have been wonderful,” the stranger began. “if it weren’t for the mess you’ve made in here.”
the water you spilled earlier. and the pieces of glass that had fallen before you. you hadn’t even noticed that it shattered.
“you should’ve listened to yuta, sweetheart. he told me that you were staying at taeyong’s tonight. i had my suspicions when i saw your car parked outside, but you really are a disobedient soul, aren’t you?”
your heart stilled. only your friends knew about that nickname. and that didn’t explain how he knew yuta, much less what you discussed on a personal phone call. a jarring question emerged in your head.
with fear heavy in your heart, you whispered, “how did you…?”
the stranger removed his mask; and suddenly he wasn’t such a stranger anymore.
you almost fainted in shock. “johnny?”
johnny flashed you a grin. “that’s my name; don’t wear it out.”
too many emotions plagued your chest and you never would’ve imagined that it would be possible to feel so many things at once. the fear, the dread. the anguish, the betrayal. it was overwhelming.
johnny and you had never been particularly close, though he was in a very specific circle of friends. you met him through yuta, much like everyone else in your friend group did, and whoever yuta trusted, so did you. you were thick as thieves.
or so you thought. it seemed that in reality, he and johnny were (quite literally) thick as thieves. you couldn’t fathom why yuta would betray you after all you’d been through together.
you shook your head in denial, balking. maybe this was just a nightmare, just a really, really bad dream that you had yet to wake up from.
“you gotta go now,” johnny crooned. then he clawed at you with his large, heavy hands, and begin to drag you out of the kitchen.
you tried to resist, but he was too strong. it was like fighting with a brick wall. he dragged you into your living room, and when you fell against the floor, you half-expected him to pull out his gun and finish you there, but he didn’t - instead he wrapped his hands around your throat. they were cold against your neck, like a corpse. out of natural instinct, your fingers tried to pry at his hands in an effort to pull him away, but to no avail. it was pointless to try and fight against him, he was larger and stronger and everything in between. you were simply no match for a man like johnny.
and he merely watched. he hovered above you, hands firm around your throat, and watched your trembling hands fall to your side, watched you struggle to speak coherently as you fought for breath, all while his eyes stared into yours and watched the life drain from them. and you were certain that you were on the verge of meeting your end.
but, when you were at the very brink of unconsciousness, he let go.
your chest heaved in pursuit of sucking in as much air as possible, trying to recover from near unconsciousness. he didn’t kill you - at least, not yet. you wanted to be relieved, but you were only confused.
“on second thought,” he whispered, leaning in ever so slightly. “i think i’m gonna keep you. i like the look in your eyes.”
not just the look of fear, but the look of hope and life bleeding from your irises. he liked the power your fear gave him; how he was in control of whether you lived or died, releasing you from his chokehold at the very verge of unconsciousness.
he would be lying dead to your face if he said that it hadn’t gotten him off, if he told you that he hadn’t been tempted to make you his for a while. in return, you had a slight crush on johnny, but it didn’t go anywhere and it sure as hell wouldn’t now that you had been exposed to who he really was.
you were even more confused when johnny slung you over his broad shoulders like you weighed nothing and began to carry you in the direction of your bedroom. your cries of protest went through one ear and out the other, rendering you completely powerless.
he plopped you down unceremoniously against your sheets and leapt at you hungrily. your pulse sped with alarm when you felt him tug at the band of your underwear, and in spite of your prior futile attempts, you tried to pry him away from you, begging him to stop.
up until now, johnny’s tone had been lighthearted and taunting, but he switched on a dime when he pulled out his gun and you felt cool metal flush against your temple. “say another word. i fucking dare you,” johnny warned.
you gulped back every word, effectively silenced. once johnny was certain that you were startled into compliance, he put the gun away and resumed his actions. warm, regretful tears stung your eyes as you lied there helplessly. you closed your eyes, refusing to watch him in fear of the memory being perpetually etched behind your eyelids.
impatiently, he ripped the fabric off your thighs, venting your bare flesh to the cool air. you shivered, autumn making your skin crawl. the gleam in johnny’s eyes was not lost on you, heavy with lust and nothing but. he had wanted nothing but to destroy you, and ultimately nothing would come in his way. not even yuta.
“this is all your fault, y’know,” johnny said, smiling at you sinisterly. his teeth clamped into your thigh out of no where, and instead of your eyes wincing shut, they shot open in surprise. johnny snickered and shredded both of you of what remained of your clothes. “all you had to do was listen, baby girl. look where being a little brat gets you.”
you said and did nothing. you had practically tuned him out, more or less out of preservation for yourself. otherwise, you might have gone insane. but there was no haven for you - no safe place. inward or outward. outside of your body, johnny had full control, but inside, there were plenty of other monsters roaming around in your brain, occupying it with terrifying thoughts. there was nowhere for you to hide.
johnny was hard - most likely from watching you trembling in fear alone - and used his saliva as a lubricant. you still hissed when he began to thrust inside you, not at all considerably. rivulets of tears bundled together on your cheeks and you clamped your nails into his biceps, trying to anchor yourself on something. your fingernails drew long, irritably red lines on his arms, but he didn’t mind the sting. to johnny, there was no pleasure without pain.
when your cunt had swallowed him completely, you whimpered, “it’s too big.”
johnny wiped at the tears on your cheeks and whispered, “you poor thing.” he didn’t do much else. in his mind, you deserved this. you never listened to anyone but yourself, and this was an apt punishment.
“should we give yuta a call?” johnny asked, noticing your phone lying at your nightstand. if he was being honest, you were a little airheaded. at very least, it would have been smart to bring your phone with you when you ventured out into the kitchen, but of course you didn’t. it was almost like you wanted him to find you, completely defenseless. “i’m sure he would love to hear about this.”
you blinked when he mentioned yuta. you hadn’t called him back earlier, like you were supposed to, but now you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to speak to him again. not after you had learned that he was more or less an accomplice in this mess, no matter how much he tried to protect you. you felt so betrayed and broken.
though you shook your head, it seemed like you were getting a taste of how it felt to not be listened to, because johnny picked up your phone and forced you to unlock it, then scrolled to yuta’s contact himself and put the phone on speaker.
yuta picked up after a couple of rings, and skipped the greetings to say, “y/n, what the hell? are you okay?”
“she’s perfectly fine,” johnny answered for you, though one look at you could obviously show that you were anything but.
yuta heard his partner’s voice and instantly knew you were in trouble. he exclaimed, “johnny, what the fuck did you do?”
“nothing you wouldn’t want to do yourself,” johnny sang without a care in the world. you watched him silently, face tensing. the emotion that plagued your chest and the thoughts to your mind wouldn’t allow you to speak. “you should feel her yourself. she’s so goddamn tight. it’ll take both of us to loosen her up.”
“i thought i told you to leave her alone,” yuta growled. much to your surprise. maybe he was innocent, but he wasn’t that innocent. he knew half of what johnny was up to all along - he could have done more to protect you from someone he was full aware was dangerous.
johnny countered, “and i thought i told you no promises.” then, he leaned lower, clamping his teeth into your shoulder to stifle a moan. consequently, you let out a whimper. “don’t act like a saint, my friend. you know you want this just as bad.”
you blinked through your tears. that was news to you. yuta was heavily flirtatious, as were you, but it never went anywhere and you figured it meant nothing. your ears were attentive, waiting to find something in his response to redeem him before he was beyond reclaim. as unforgivable as everything else he had done was, you didn’t want to consider that it was possible for yuta to even want to do anything similar to you.
you heard rushing and fumbling in the background and yuta’s voice said, “y/n, can you hear me? i’m so fucking sorry. i’m on the way.”
johnny simply rammed his hips into you harder, making you squeal from the impact. you closed your eyes and leveled your breath. it was too late for you. johnny was already having as much fun with you as he wanted.
“yuta’s not gonna save you, baby,” johnny sang to you directly. he did what he pleased, not caring what anyone had to say about it. that was the johnny you knew and had always known. “nobody can.”
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matching outfits i think NCT 127 would wear with their girlfriends
INCLUDES: 127 x gfs!, fluff, me just typing out my delusions about 127 wearing matching fits. in honour of 600 followers🫶🏼 thank yous so much🫶🏼
wc: tbc
a/n: if yous would like a male or gender nuteral version of this please let me know! i tend to get carried away with idol x fem!reader plots/posts. but i don't want yous to be afraid to ask! ALL PICTURES I DO NOT OWN AND ARE ALL OFF PINTEREST
TAEIL
taeil loves matching outfits with his gf, however he doesn't mind not doing it all the time. he never pushes you to wear matching outfits 24/7 but rather waits for you to ask him, he'll then pull out a minimum of 17 different matching outfits he's bought through out the last month because he thinks you two would look so good wearing them. he's the type to wear very simple yet classy matching outfits that match yous both.
JOHNNY
now sir john john is neither here nor there when it comes to matching it outfits. once in a blue-moon he'll ask you if you want to wear matching outfits, and they're usually monotone casual fits he deemed 'cool' enough to wear. but when you're the one who offers to wear matching fits it's usually cute fits to wear around the house and practice room which he's more than happy to wear.
TAEYONG
tyong is defiently the type to love matching outfits but doesn't make too much of a fuss about wearing them. although he loves wearing matching casual fits with you, he especially loves wearing matching outfits when yous got out for very "fancy" dinner dates or just fancy dates in general. so nine times out of ten yous wear fancy/classy matching outfits.
YUTA
yuta is defiently the type of bf to want his gf to have a similar fashion style to him. he'd love to wear matching outfits with you just as long as there's a techno or 'grunge' sort of twist to it. he just loves the idea that you both like the same fashion style, also gives him the right to steal clothes of your because "you haven't warn it since.." so if a shirt of yours goes missing it was surely him.
DOYOUNG
doyoung seems like the type to wear matching outfits with you only when he gets to choose the fits. not that he doesn't trust you with choosing them or that he doesn't like your fashion style but because he likes the sense of control it gives him. he often likes wearing matching outfits that compliment the both of you.
JAEHYUN
oh he absolutely loves it, but he'll NEVER admit to anyone, especially you. he'll make it his life mission to let you know that he hates matching outfits with his being, but he will go ahead and repost a matching couple outfits onto his private instagram acc (you can NOT tell me they don't have accs to sneak around on), saying how much he "hates" it just so you see it and get the exact outfit he posted. he loves any matching outfit. still, he adores the ones you buy because you thought of him the second you laid your eyes on it, but again he will never tell you just how much he loves it.
JUNGWOO
he's not really all for it but that doesn't mean he won't do it. he's more of the type to not bother with that kind of thing, but when you beg him so cutely how can he say no? if you somehow manage to get him to agree, he's definitely the one choosing the outfits. he loves the matching outfits that are quite literally the same save for the female/male differences between them.
MARK
he LOVES matching outfits. he will happily wear matching outfits just as long as there's a spiderman fit in there somewhere. whenever he's on tour or away from you for long periods of time he'll buy matching outfits he sees while he's away. he's into the cliche kinds of matching outfits or the very subtle matching outfits. he's into it all. you'll sometimes catch him asking you to wear a certain outfit to go see him at the dorms only for him to be in the exact same outfit when you arrive.
HAECHAN
haechan absolutely LOVES matching outfits. he will quite literally beg for yous to wear matching outfits, whether it is casual outfits, formal, or even pyjamas. he loves wearing the prettiest matching casual outfits but it has to be the goofiest pyjamas ever. he laughs in your face when you whine about how you don't want to wear them, the only way he gets you to agree is by kissing your pouty lips. "you look cute baby."
NCT DREAM version will be next
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YUTA DRABBLE !
pairings. tattooartist!yuta x fem!reader
🔖: 18+ , unprotected sex , breeding kink , cigarette smoking ,
authors note ! authors note ! this is for the 6k drabble special , you can read all of them here !
you opened the doors to the shop , smiling at the boy who sat in the front. "hello , mark , yuta in the back?" he nodded. "yup , you finally gonna show him your surprise." you nodded. "well , im gonna on break , go ahead to the back."
you went straight to his office , opening the door. "yuta?" he looked up from his drawing , smiling at you. "hi babygirl , what are you doing here?" you held the bag of food in your hand out. "my baby brought me lunch , how cute is that." you sat it down , straddling his lap.
"you look so cute today , who are you getting all pretty for?" he squeezed your waist making you squeal. "stop it , i wore this because i have something to show you , my surprise." his eyebrow quirked. "the surprise i waited 2 weeks for?" you nodded , he smirked , leaning back in the chair. "go on and show me babygirl."
you unbuttoned the dress , letting it fall. "babygirl , what did you do?" you felt his cock starting to harden , pressing against your cunt. "hold on , be patient." you slowly reached to undo your bra , letting it fall , finally showing yuta what you'd been hiding.
"oh baby , you did this for me?" he ran his fingers over the tattoo of his name under your boob. "yup , you have my name , so i wanted to do the same." you looked so hot but so innocent , everything off but your panties , sitting on top of his cock. "and who did it princess?" he pinched one of your nipples , making you whine.
"i-i got jo-johnny to do it." he grabbed your hip , grinding into you. "m'wanted to surprise you." you whimpered , your need for your boyfriends cock growing. "you know , i don't like the guys looking at what's mine , but since you gave me such a nice present , i'll it slide."
"yu-yuta , i need more." he sat you the desk , pulling his pants down , his cock springing out , slapping against his stomach. "come on pretty baby , come sit on my cock." you climbed back in his lap , hovering over his cock.
"oh-oh my god." you moaned , sinking down on his cock , filling you up. "that's it , sit on my fat cock baby." he grunted , you were fully sat , his cock hitting a different angle in this position. "come on , ride it like a good girl." you moved your hips.
he picked up a cigarette off the table , sticking it between his teeth , lighting it , taking a long drag , you hated the way they smelled , but you always thought he looked hot. "so cute baby, when i first met you , you could barely look me in the eye." he smirked , taking another drag. "now look at ya , bouncing on my cock like a cute bunny , after getting my name tattooed on your pretty skin." you moaned , holding on to his shoulders.
"this means we're together forever now , your pussy is mine now." you clenched at his words. "-fuck- babygirl , you like that , you wanna be mines forever?" he groaned. "ye-yes wanna be yours forever yuta. " he put the cigarette out , grabbing your hips fucking up into you faster.
"sh-shit , yuta im gonna cum , please cum inside me , please." you begged. "that's what you want -shit- for me to cum inside you , stuff your little pussy with my cum." he pinched your nipples.
"ye-yes please -fuck!- im cumming." you screamed , legs shaking as you came around him , a white base forming around his cock , he felt his orgasm approaching , "gonna cum , you gonna take my cum." you viciously nodded. "then take it baby -shit- take my cum like a good girl.." he pushed your hips down , cum filling up your cunt. he stood up , pushing all his stuff to the floor , laying you down on the desk.
"fuck , i don't give a fuck about that next appointment i need to see your stomach bulging from my cum."
©️LUVYENI
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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
125 notes
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View notes
How I Met Your Mother
Pairing: husband!Yuta x wife!reader
AU: non-idol au
Word Count: 4.9k
Summary: An innocent question from your eight-year-old son takes you and your husband on a trip down memory lane, nearly a decade ago. You both recount the story of how you first met, where Yuta heroically rescued you from an attempted abduction.
A/N: Based on a dream I had of Yuta, I just knew I had to write about it.
MAIN MASTERLIST
"Mama, papa, how exactly did the two of you first meet?"
Your son, Yuki, was going through an old photo album mainly filled with photos of you and your husband before he was born.
Seeing the younger versions of his parents suddenly piqued his curiosity, making him realise that neither you nor Yuta had ever shared the story of how you initially crossed paths.
Yuta beamed, pulling you closer as you both fondly watched your son flip through the carefully curated album, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. It must have been fascinating for him to catch a glimpse of his parents' lives before his existence.
As memories of your first encounter flooded your thoughts, you couldn't help scrunching up your face, earning a chuckle from your husband as he planted an affectionate kiss on the side of your head.
The way you and he first met wasn't exactly a pleasant memory for you, despite Yuta occasionally bringing it up to brag and tease you about being your knight in shining armour.
It was an unforgettable experience, to say the least.
Although it had been borderline traumatic for you, it was the spark that ignited Yuta's protective instincts whenever it came to you.
You rolled your eyes, a small smile gracing your lips, while your husband cleared his throat eagerly, excited to finally share the story of the beginning of your love story with your son.
"Yuki, my boy, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to grow up enough to ask about this."
Your son burst into laughter at his dad's dramatic tone, the exchanged knowing glances between his parents only fueling his curiosity about the story.
"Oh boy, here we go again." You joked but leaned in closer, snuggling into your husband's shoulder, your heart fluttering as he instinctively tightened his hold around you.
"Alright, let's see... It all began one night about ten years ago..."
Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you continued to distance yourself from the unfamiliar man who had been suspiciously following you for what felt like hours.
It took a while before you realised what was happening.
Perhaps it was your own fault for choosing to go stock up on groceries all alone at this time of the night. Sure, your neighbourhood wasn't necessarily the safest, but at least there hadn't been any crazy crime stories from around the area as of yet.
Well, it looks like I might be the first one.
Clutching your shopping bags tightly, you opted for yet another detour, determined not to lead this stranger back to your home, where he could potentially abduct you or worse, have his way with you, without anyone ever finding out.
A million thoughts raced through your mind, as you imagined all the horrifying scenarios that might unfold tonight. Panic coursed through your veins and you couldn't afford to waste another minute.
Hastily, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialled your housemate's number, praying for a lifeline. The ringing felt like an eternity, but it was met with frustrating silence.
Shit, she's not picking up.
You cursed under your breath, clutching your phone tighter, and decided to try other coworkers you knew living around the area. The calls all ended up going to voicemail or, in the best-case scenario, were met with an endless ring.
It was a weeknight, and everyone must be sound asleep.
Your trembling hands struggled to maintain a steady grip on your phone as you felt the stranger drawing closer from behind. The footsteps echoed ominously in the deserted night.
Desperation took over, and you tried dialling another number, your best friend's, hoping he might miraculously be awake. The harsh reality was that everyone seemed to be lost in deep slumber, oblivious to your perilous situation.
Fear gripped your heart as you finally accepted your fate. The stranger's presence loomed closer, sending a shiver down your spine.
It was almost as if god finally heard your prayers.
As you turned a corner, you stumbled upon a man who appeared to be stepping out of his apartment to throw out the trash. He was now on his way back, his back turned to you as he approached the entrance. Your eyes widened in alarm at the sight of this opportunity, and you knew you had to seize it.
With your heart lurching in your chest, you sprinted towards the man, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The sound of footsteps behind you grew louder, and you knew the stranger was chasing you.
You reached the man, your trembling hand gripping his arm, and he snapped to look at you in surprise, "Babe! I called you like a million times, why didn't you answer any of my calls?" You cried out, desperately hoping he'd play along.
Confusion crossed his face.
Much to your chagrin, he began to protest that he didn't know you. But it only took a moment for his gaze to shift from your panicked expression to the strange man skidding to a stop just a few feet behind you.
Seeing the menace in your pursuer's eyes, you whispered shakily, "P-please... please help me. He's been following me for a while now."
The urgency in your voice and the fear in your eyes conveyed the gravity of the situation, and the man's protective instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, he nodded and took a step closer to you.
He smiled reassuringly at you, giving your arm a supportive squeeze, "I'm Yuta. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." He whispered into your ear, his words providing a small semblance of comfort. You nodded appreciatively, grateful for his intervention.
Yuta immediately stepped into the role you assigned him, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I must've left my phone on mute again." He said, loud enough for the stranger to hear as he pushed you protectively behind him.
Turning to the stranger, he raised a questioning brow and confronted him with a calm but assertive tone, "How may I help you, sir?" Yuta's stance conveyed his readiness to protect you.
You expected the stranger to take the hint, to leave you alone now that your supposed "boyfriend" was around.
But what happened next was unexpected.
The creep didn't appear to be intimidated; instead, he smirked in disbelief, "Don't kid yourself," He sneered, "I know she's not your girlfriend. Just mind your business, step aside, and no one has to get hurt."
Your heart raced in your chest as you gasped, fear grasping at your every nerve, and you clutched the back of Yuta's shirt.
Your breaths were becoming increasingly erratic as the stranger refused to buy into the charade, and dread was taking hold of your every thought. You feared not only for your own safety but also for poor Yuta's. The grip of your fingers on the back of his shirt was almost painful as you held on desperately.
Feeling your distress, Yuta reached behind him to hold your hand, his touch a source of comfort amidst the chaos. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, silently urging you to stay as calm as possible.
Yuta narrowed his brows dangerously in response to the stranger's claim, "Huh, what an odd thing to say," He retorted with a firm tone, "And how, pray tell, do you know she's not my girlfriend?" Yuta's voice carried a subtle edge of menace, and he was prepared to stand his ground.
The stranger, undeterred, took a step closer.
"I suggest you be careful with your every action because we have surveillance cameras installed all over this neighbourhood." Yuta's words were meant to intimidate, but they also served as a warning.
The creep couldn't help tensing up at the threat.
Unbeknownst to you and your stalker, Yuta wasn't alone in this situation. He knew he needed backup and immediately sent a quick text to Mark, his housemate who was a police officer, asking for help using their secret emergency code. As he did so, he continued to hold his ground, doing his best to stall for time, hoping that help would arrive before things escalated any further.
The tension in the air thickened as Yuta and the stranger exchanged veiled threats, each trying to assert their dominance in the standoff. The atmosphere crackled with danger, and it seemed like things could take a nasty turn at any moment.
But then, relief washed over you as Mark, Yuta's housemate, appeared from the apartment gate with wide eyes. Yuta immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulder, his expression shifting from assertive to reassuring.
"Hey Mark," Yuta greeted him calmly, "This guy's been following my girlfriend around the neighbourhood. You're a cop; think you can do something about that?"
Mark understood the situation instantly.
He stepped forward, pulling out his police badge and addressing the stranger with a stern tone, "Sir, is that true?"
Sensing the gravity of the situation and realising that he was now dealing with a police officer, the stranger knew it was in his best interest to give up the charade. He decided to play dumb, attempting to salvage whatever dignity remained.
"Oh, I apologise," He stammered, feigning innocence, "It's just a misunderstanding. I thought she was someone I knew. Now that we have that cleared up, I'll be taking my leave then."
With that, the stranger briskly retreated, vanishing from the scene before you could fully process what just happened. The relief was palpable as the danger lifted, and you were left with the protection of Yuta and the support of Mark, who had come to your rescue.
The moment the stranger was out of sight, the adrenaline that kept you going suddenly drained from your body, leaving your legs weak and unsteady. You felt like your knees were about to give way, and you would have fallen to the ground if it hadn't been for Yuta holding onto you.
"Are you alright, miss?" Mark asked, his concern evident.
You didn't want to do this, but you couldn't help it. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you broke down in front of your saviours, "Oh my god," You sobbed, your voice trembling, "Th-thank you so much for helping me. Lord knows what he wanted with me."
Yuta held you close, providing a comforting embrace as you tried to collect yourself. Mark stepped in with practical advice, his voice gentle and reassuring, "It's okay," He said, "But I strongly recommend you make a police report about this. It's essential to prevent such incidents from happening to someone else in the future."
You nodded through your tears, thankful for their support.
Relieved by the support and protection Yuta and Mark offered, you agreed to let them walk you home. The companionship and their unwavering presence were comforting as you made your way back.
Along the walk, you introduced yourself and shared the details of what transpired, explaining how the stranger had been tailing you for quite some time before you noticed Yuta when he was throwing out the trash.
Yuta listened attentively, guilt gnawing at him for initially considering turning away from you before realising the danger you were in. He couldn't bear to imagine what might have happened if he had left you to fend for yourself. He vowed silently to always be there for you in times of need.
Mark, on the other hand, made a mental note to keep an eye out for the stranger around the neighbourhood from now on. The incident raised concerns, and he understood the importance of ensuring the safety of everyone in the community.
Upon arriving at your doorstep, Yuta exchanged a silent look with Mark, wordlessly asking his friend for some privacy. Mark nodded knowingly and bid you both farewell before making his way outside, leaving you alone with Yuta.
Looking up at him more closely now, you finally realised how good-looking Yuta was, and before you knew it, your heart began racing for an entirely different reason. He stood before you, nervously biting his lower lip, and you wondered what he wanted to talk to you about.
Minutes felt like hours as you waited for him to speak.
Finally, his cheeks flushed with a slight blush, and he cleared his throat, his voice trembling, "I-it was really nice to meet you, and, umm... now that you know where I live, you can always come to me for help. Oh— uhh... here's my number, you know, just in case..."
You chuckled at his shyness and nodded, taking the name card he held out. Your fingers brushed against his briefly, sending a spark of electricity through you, "Thank you, Yuta," You replied with a smile, "I really appreciate what you did for me tonight. And, it was nice to meet you too."
The tension that filled the air throughout the night seemed to dissipate, leaving a sense of connection and gratitude between you. You knew that you would remember this night not only for the terrifying ordeal but also for the newfound friend who had come to your rescue.
"And that, son, is how I met your mother."
If you thought your son's curiosity would end there, you were wrong. He proceeded with his next question, "Okay, so what happened next? How did you two fall in love?"
You shook your head in amusement as you noticed the excitement building in your husband, ready to delve deeper into the early stages of your love story, "Are you sure you want to find out, Yuki? Once you hear this, no other love story will ever compare to ours."
A laugh bubbled out of your lips, and you playfully smacked Yuta on the chest, "Oh honey, don't listen to your papa. He's being ridiculous," Your husband gasped dramatically, feigning disbelief as he held your hand against his chest, "How dare you? Are you saying our love story isn't the greatest in the world?"
"It's not the greatest love story in the world," You began, snickering at Yuta's pout, "But it is the greatest love story in my heart." Your husband cooed at your words, showering your face with kisses.
Yuki crossed his arms over his chest like the sassy little eight-year-old he is, "Umm, papa? So, are you telling me the story or not?" Yuta pulled away slightly from you, containing his laughter at his son's exasperated expression.
Your husband's penchant for public displays of affection wasn't new, but Yuki still felt a bit embarrassed whenever he witnessed his parents being lovey-dovey around him, "Okay, okay, sheesh. I know you're dying to hear about it, so here we go..."
The following day after the incident, your housemate, Giselle, nearly had a heart attack when she discovered a slew of missed calls from you. Relieved to see you safely asleep in your bed, she couldn't resist checking in on you. And as you recounted the previous night's ordeal, her emotions fluctuated from shock to sly amusement.
After hearing about Yuta and seeing the name card you received, her eyes practically sparkled with excitement, "Ooh, Nakamoto Yuta, huh? Sounds like your next boyfriend to me." She said with a grin.
You chuckled as you playfully threw a pillow at her face, "I swear, you say that about every new guy I meet."
She laughed and shrugged, "Well, maybe this one will be different."
As you contemplated the events of the previous night and the unexpected connection with Yuta, you couldn't help but wonder if Giselle might be onto something.
Your best friend, Jaehyun, finally returned your call after seeing the missed call from the previous night. You recounted the entire incident to him, much like you had with Giselle. Unlike your housemate, his concern was predominantly focused on your well-being rather than the newfound acquaintance, Yuta.
Jaehyun didn't waste any time.
He decided to accompany you to the police station that afternoon during his lunch break from work.
Your best friend blamed himself for not being there for you when you needed him the most, even though it was completely understandable. He was determined to make sure everything was handled properly and that you received the support you needed.
You hadn't expected to run into Yuta again so soon, but it was that very night when you crossed paths while walking back home from the convenience store with your housemate. Ignoring her teasing smirks, you introduced the two to each other, "Oh hi, Yuta! This is my housemate, Giselle. And Giselle, this is Yuta, the kind soul who saved me last night."
Giselle quickly expressed her gratitude, "Gosh, it's so nice to meet you. I can't thank you enough for coming to her rescue!"
Yuta was humble in his response, "Please, don't mention it! It was simply the right thing to do."
His modesty made you feel like perhaps he really was just being a genuinely decent person, and there was nothing more to his kindness. You knew Giselle had a tendency to get carried away with her imagination, always getting you hyped up with false hope.
You exchanged a tight smile with Yuta as you bid your goodbyes. This time, when he offered to walk you home, you politely declined, feeling a sense of independence and confidence that you could handle the walk with your housemate by your side.
It was about a week later that you felt a wave of relief when the police update came in, the stranger who had been following you that fateful night had been arrested for further questioning. It turned out he made multiple attempts to approach other girls in the neighbourhood as well. You hoped this marked the end of that distressing chapter, thinking you might not have a reason to see Yuta again.
Except you were sorely mistaken.
Nakamoto Yuta started showing up almost everywhere.
You saw him at the convenience store, passed him on your way to work and back home, encountered him at the nearby Chinese restaurant, and even spotted him at the library. The first few times felt like mere coincidences, but you gradually began to suspect that he was intentionally crossing paths with you.
One evening, when you decided to go for a jog at the recreational park, you discovered it wasn't just a coincidence.
There he was, running in your direction, his eyes lighting up with recognition as he approached you. It was then that you realised Yuta's appearances in your life weren't accidental; he was actively seeking out opportunities to be around you.
At the recreational park during your jog, you decided to be brave and address the elephant in the room, "Yuta," You began, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension, "I've noticed we've been running into each other a lot lately. Is there a reason for that?"
His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, and he looked down shyly before meeting your gaze.
"Well, the truth is," He began, "I've been trying to find ways to talk to you." He paused for a moment, searching for the right words, and then he finally mustered the courage to continue, "I've... I've been attracted to you, and I wanted to get to know you better."
Your eyes widened in disbelief as you tried to process this revelation. Yuta, the kind and handsome Nakamoto Yuta, was interested in you? It felt like a dream come true, and your heart fluttered at the thought. You didn't know what to say, but your smile spoke volumes about your feelings, as you felt your own attraction to him growing with each passing moment.
Yuta's nerves seemed to get the best of him as he mistook your initial silence for rejection. In a quick, slightly frantic ramble, he stumbled over his words, saying, "I mean, it's okay if you don't feel the same way, or if you already have a boyfriend. I completely understand."
But you didn't let him finish his self-doubting monologue. You grabbed his trembling hands with a warm smile, putting his anxieties to rest, "Yuta," You said, "I don't have a boyfriend, and I feel the same way. I'm just as attracted to you."
His eyes widened at your words, and a look of pure surprise washed over his face. Your giggles escaped uncontrollably as you found him utterly adorable when flustered. You felt him tighten his hold on your hand, and he took a step closer to you, closing the gap between you two, a mix of excitement and relief in his eyes.
"Well, if that's the case, will you go out on a date with me?" He seized the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and you didn't hesitate for a moment before agreeing, "I thought you'd never ask." The prospect of spending more time with him filled you with excitement and anticipation.
Later that night, you would meet Yuta for dinner.
Giselle couldn't resist teasing you endlessly as she helped you pick out the perfect outfit, offering fashion advice and supportive comments that made you blush and laugh.
Her closet was a whirlwind of options as she held up dresses, skirts, and tops, "How about this one? It'll look amazing on you!"
You chuckled, sorting through the outfits, "Gigi, it's just dinner. I don't need to overdress."
She winked mischievously, "It's not overdressing if it makes you feel confident!"
Meanwhile, Jaehyun, who came over to check on you, couldn't help expressing his concern, "You know, I trust your judgment, but please be careful, okay? I don't want anything to happen to you."
You sighed, understanding his protective nature, "Jae, I promise, Yuta is a great guy. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Besides, are you forgetting the fact that he was the one who saved me that night?"
The reassuring words didn't fully alleviate his worry, but he nodded, accepting your choice, "How can I possibly forget when you keep mentioning it every five minutes? Just promise me to keep your phone on, and let me know if you need anything."
With your housemate's guidance and your best friend's cautionary reminders, you headed out for your date with Yuta, heart fluttering with excitement.
The date with him turned out to be more than perfect. Yuta's caring and attentive gestures made your heart melt throughout the night.
As you dined at a cosy restaurant, he pulled your chair out for you, ensuring you were comfortable. He listened intently as you spoke, asking questions and showing genuine interest in your thoughts and feelings. When you shivered slightly, he casually draped his jacket over your shoulders, ensuring you stayed warm.
After dinner, you took a leisurely stroll through the city park. Yuta held your hand as you walked, fingers interlaced. He pointed out constellations in the night sky and shared anecdotes about his life. His warmth and presence made the conversation flow effortlessly, and it felt as if you had known each other for much longer.
The date ended with him walking you to your doorstep. Before saying goodnight, he leaned in to press a gentle, respectful kiss on your cheek. It was a sweet, soft gesture that left you with a smile on your face as you entered your home.
His kindness, consideration, and charming nature truly made it an unforgettable evening, setting the tone for many more wonderful moments together.
The weeks and months passed in a whirlwind of dates and shared experiences. You got to know each other so well that it became clear you were both ready for a deeper commitment. Yuta had always been serious about the relationship, making it known that he was not interested in anything casual. He reassured you time and time again that he would never do anything to hurt you.
He's been waiting for the perfect moment to finally ask you to officially be his girlfriend.
The moment Yuta had been waiting for eventually arrived, and it was like a scene from a K-drama; unexpected and dramatic. You were walking side by side down the bustling streets of Hongdae one night after watching a movie together.
The city's neon lights created a surreal backdrop. The vibrant energy of Seoul's nightlife buzzed around you, and you were enjoying the company of the person you've grown to care deeply for.
Suddenly, amidst the excitement, someone's touch became too intimate. Panic washed over you as you felt a stranger's hand on your waist, and it moved lower, sending a jolt of alarm through your body. Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what was happening in this crowded, chaotic scene.
Yuta was quick to pick up on your distress.
His gaze followed your wide-eyed stare, and his expression morphed from curiosity to fierce determination when he saw the inappropriate situation unfolding.
With a surge of protective rage, he moved swiftly, his hand reaching for yours as he pulled you away from the unwelcome intruder. In search of comfort, you pressed closer to him. His face was a mask of fury as he confronted the person who dared to harm you, "Excuse me, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
The stranger's face paled as he realised the gravity of his actions, "I... I didn't mean to..."
Yuta's voice was firm, cutting through the chaos of the street, "It doesn't matter what you meant. You crossed a line you shouldn't have, and that's not acceptable."
The crowd that gathered began to murmur, and the stranger, feeling the weight of the public gaze, backed away, muttering apologies and excuses.
Yuta, standing his ground, continued, "Remember this lesson, and never let it happen again. We all deserve to be treated with respect."
As the stranger retreated into the crowd, Yuta's focus returned to you, making sure you were okay. The fierce protector had shown his dedication to your safety in no uncertain terms.
In that tense and unexpected moment, his eyes met yours, and he seized the opportunity to ask the question that had been lingering between you for so long.
"This is it," He began, "I can't go on like this any longer. Will you let me be the one to always protect you from now on?" He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, a mix of hope and anticipation in his eyes, "Will you... be my girlfriend?"
The crowd around you erupted into cheers and applause, chanting for you to say yes to Yuta. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help smiling at their exuberance.
With a shy yet delighted grin, you nodded, "Of course, I'll be your girlfriend, silly. I've waited too long for you to ask."
His face lit up, his joy evident, and he wasted no time in pulling you into a warm and loving embrace. The crowd's cheers only grew louder as they congratulated the two of you, celebrating the official beginning of your journey together as a couple.
As he walked you home later that night, the atmosphere was charged with emotion. With a mix of excitement and anticipation, he leaned in to kiss you on the lips for the first time. The world around you seemed to fade away as your lips met, and for a moment, it was just the two of you in perfect harmony.
Before the kiss could deepen and become more passionate, the romantic moment was abruptly interrupted by your housemate, who swung your front door open and shouted, "Finally!"
Her sudden entrance startled both of you, and you laughed as you pulled away from the kiss.
Giselle's enthusiastic interruption added a dose of humour to the scene, and Yuta joined in the laughter, your hearts brimming with happiness and the promise of a wonderful future together.
Your son's face was the epitome of adorable scepticism as he tilted his head, looking at his father's dramatic storytelling, "Papa, are you sure that isn't a scene from a drama?" Yuta scoffed playfully, "Of course not! I'm telling you the truth!"
Yuki, with his round eyes, turned to you, seeking confirmation, "Is it really true that's how you and papa fell in love, mama?"
You softened and leaned down to kiss his head, reassuring him, "It's true, honey."
To your surprise, your son's expression turned more serious, "That would mean it's true you've almost gotten hurt twice if papa hadn't been there to save you."
You nodded, touched by your son's concern, and Yuki continued, "Don't worry, mama. I'm here now; I'll protect you too."
Your heart melted at his words, and Yuta cooed with pride, coming over to shower your son's face with playful kisses. Yuki shrieked in ticklish delight, and you stared at the two of them with a fond smile.
You may have nearly gotten hurt in order to meet Yuta, but you wouldn't change your fate for anything in the world. You were incredibly happy with your little family, and your heart was full of love and gratitude for the way things have turned out.
In the midst of this warm family moment, Yuki's curious nature was in full swing. With an innocent yet cheeky smile, he suddenly asked, "So, how did you two have me then?"
Your face turned a shade of red that rivalled a tomato, and you cleared your throat nervously. Beside you, Yuta stammered, his words coming out in a rush, "Whoa, whoa, that's enough questions for today, young man!"
Yuki's eyes sparkled with amusement as he sensed he hit a nerve. Despite the initial flustered reactions, you burst out laughing, unable to contain your mirth.
It seemed like the story of your love, your family, and your son's inquisitiveness would continue to be a delightful adventure.
I've only been writing for ATEEZ so far since they're my current ult, but NCT and I go way back HAHA. I've been the biggest simp for Yuta, y'all don't wanna know about it, I swear.
Anyway, this is me trying out writing for other groups. I have another story featuring I.N from Stray Kids coming up soon as well. My fellow STAYs can look forward to that one.
As always, I'd love to hear all your thoughts, reviews, and feedback, so feel free to leave as many replies as you want! Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! <3
All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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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.
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Ngl Yuta seems like the type of person to be plotting your fuck up and then pounce on you when he has that opportunity.
yuta would make up little rules on the spot so that he could punish you for not following them. he is a master of curated chaos and likes to keep you on your toes. you’d never get the upper hand on him because he’s always 10 steps ahead
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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
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カバー muzzx; shiver.
caso se inspire, dê os créditos.
disponível pra doação
d. 31.12.23
depois de 84 ANOS, veio aí! pensei que nunca mais ia conseguir editar, mas até que gostei? talvez esteja muito suja pro meu gosto pelos efeitos, mas no geral, tô suuuuper satisfeita. sempre bom experimentar novos métodos, não é?
inclusive, AMO esse casal e, principalmente, o yuta, que quase me matou do coração nessas fotos que selecionei.
enfim.
acho que tô de volta?
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Cyber sex
Summary : after you and your roommate come back from your family's houses, you do something crazy (😵) with his brother
Pairs : childhood friend!yuta X fem!reader
Warnings : SMUT, cyber sex , masturbation, praise kink, nipple play ,fingering (kinda idk)
W.c : 0.7k
Now playing : cyber sex - doja cat
A/n : this is part of my other fic poison, you don't have to read it but read it for context , also don't ask why is it so short idk 😶
_______________________
After the summer break you go back to the dorm and shotaro is also there, you met your family and had a lot of fun with shotaro and his family in Japan as well , you and shotaro talked about the things you did with your families, you never mentioned that night at all…fortunately, you and yuta exchanged numbers and started texting more often , they both treated you very well and you're glad you did, you two called for few times, nothing much happened after that , you and yuta kept texting and you kept hanging out with shotaro , that was it , nothing more , nothing less, it was until shotaro told you his mom was sick , after all she was your childhood friend's mom and your mom's friend , you decide to check on her but you didn't have her number and you were shy to ask shotaro , so you texted yuta.
“hey yuta I heard your mom was sick”
“Can you give me her number or something?” You sent and waited for half an hour, one hour,even two hours, you decide to call him but he didn't pick up until after a while
“oh my god finally you answered my calls” you say feeling relieved
“Oh yeah sorry y/n I didn't see your messages my phone was on silent” he said , his voice was low, he was breathing heavily
“Is everything okay yuta?”
“Y-yeah y/n everything is okay…fuck” it came out more like a whisper. You stayed quiet for a while until he said “What did you w-want?” his voice was shaky
“Oh can I get your mom's number I heard she's sick..” you say quietly
“o-oh i-it's…oh fuck” you feel heat rush through your body hearing him like that
“Y-yuta…are you masturbating?” Your heart beats really fast
“Oh well you got” you can feel his smirk through the phone already, a small ‘oh’ escape your mouth
“Well I guess I'll call you later then” you say, it was kinda embarrassing for you.
“No,no you don't have to”
“You can send me your mom's number later or over a tex-”
“I wish your pretty mouth was wrapped around me” he sighs deeply, you wanted to hang up before you get turned on even more
“Wish I could fuck your pretty face” you felt your face getting red from his words and you felt wet already, the way he talks his voice was low , deep and kinda shaky it reminded you of when you were having sex back then. You couldn't handle it anymore and started taking off your shorts and panties, he knew what you were doing very well.
“touch yourself”
“Wh-what?!”
“I know what're you doing y/n”
“O-okay” you were surprised as you lay on bed and start rubbing your fingers against your entrance in circular motion. Fighting the urge to moan because you were already embarrassed. You finally insert your finger inside your pussy , while your other hand is squeezing one of your nipples , holding back your moan, it was like fighting for your life at the moment.
“f-fuck baby a-add another finger for me.” He moans into the phone, you don't even know how he knew what are you doing but you just add another finger and moans into the phone, your fingers moving in and out, your hair sticking to your forehead, yuta was mumbling some words but you couldn't hear anything, squeezing your nipple even harder , causing you to moan loudly ,you can hear his heavy breath from the phone, it made you go faster trying to reach your limit and release. Your vision is getting blurry , your breath was unstable , your legs are shaking
“Y-yuta…” you say , voice shaky and high pitched a little.
“Y-yes?” His voice was low and deep.
“I-i'm about to cum.” Your fingers goes faster making you reach your limits
“M-me too baby.” He can hear you whine on the other side.
“Okay let's both cum after three, two, one” you finally release all your juices on your fingers , you can hear yuta breath heavily, cursing under his breath.
You can hear the door being unlocked, of course it's shotaro , he was looking for you until he heads to your room opening the door
“Hey y/n I got you your favorite- what the fuck ?!” Is all he could say.
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