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thesafecafe · 5 months

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BBHMM

Summary: Yuta hasn't been answering your calls. It seems like he's completely ignoring you, so you decide to pay him a little visit.

CW: 18+, MDNI, violence (a slap or 2), mentions of substances, (weed, alcohol, cocaine, etc), cussing, slight angst, illegal activity, strip club owner Yuta x black fem reader, serious conversation between parents, tension, (Yuta isn't exactly over the reader and is whipped), suggestive, smut, dom reader, switch/sub leaning Yuta, he cums quick, reader is called mistress, finger sucking, handjob, thigh riding, hair pulling, making out, slight degradation (giving), ass slapping, I think that just about covers it! enjoy! Feedback is appreciated! (apologies to any Prius drivers in the audience 💀✋🏾)

Disclaimer: I do not believe that the members of NCT would act in this way , nor is it a representation of their real life actions or personalities. This is a fictional depiction for entertainment purposes.

Words: 3,582

Yuta was ignoring you. You didn't think much of it at first. You knew he was busy with work most of the time, usually making a point to tell you he'd be busy or getting back to you later. But for the past few weeks, every time you would call, there was no answer. At first, you were concerned, since it wasn't like him to not answer. But it got to the point where instead of letting it ring, he'd send you straight to voicemail. That was what pissed you off. You couldn't stand not having good communication, especially since you had children together.

Your twin girls, only two years old, were always asking about their father. Constantly asking when they would talk to him, or see him again, it broke your heart when you saw their disappointment flickering across their faces when you would tell them he was busy at work.

And speaking of your children, you were also concerned for their needs. While you did work to support the three of you, your job only paid you enough to cover basic bills, clothes for the twins, and your groceries. Yuta usually covered everything else, from the rent and insurance to the twins daycare fees; he usually left a stack of bills on your bedroom dresser when he came to visit.

He insisted you didn't need to work, but you were stubborn. You felt you needed your job in case of emergencies. In case of times like these. While you hated to admit it, your babies depended on that money. Being an inconsistent parent was not going to cut it; you couldn't afford that. You didn't know what his problem was, but you were sure as hell going to find out.

You called your mother to watch the twins, leaving them in her care for the night. You waved one final goodbye to them before going back home to change. Your baby daddy had clearly forgotten who he was dealing with. If he thought for one second you were going to let him abandon his daughters, and only be a "sometimes dad," then he was sorely mistaken.

—

Club Highway to Heaven was packed. It was usually brimming with customers; slow days were rare. Due to its location, it was a popular nightlife spot, with minimal competition. Spotting that the line was wrapped around the corner as usual, you immediately pulled around to the back parking lot reserved for the staff.

No one would bother you about parking in the back, and there was a parking space Yuta had reserved for you. But as you pulled forward, you saw a car in the space next to Yuta's. A gaudy pink Prius with cat ears on top sat there, in your way. In your space. "Ohhh, I see what this is about." You laughed softly, shaking your head.

You chose a random space to park in, not far from the back entrance. You got out, quickly making your way to the door, and putting in the code. You knew Yuta never changed the codes to this place, in spite of your many warnings about safety. Swinging the door open, you step carefully into the club. Immediately, you are transported to a different atmosphere.

The purple lights of the club caress your skin, enveloping you into the overall ambience. As you walk to the main floor of the club, the strong smelling mixture of alcohol, sweat, and weed make you choke out a cough.

Passing through the main floor, you see many half naked women, some walking the floor while others slide down poles. A familiar Rihanna song blares through the club speakers. Bottle girls in outfits nearly as skimpy as the dancers run around with drinks, trying to service their sections as quickly as possible. Men and women alike were cheering and throwing money like there was no tomorrow.

'Business is definitely booming.' You thought as you crossed the floor, and walked towards Yuta's office. You stopped when you reached the door, guarded by a massive, familiar bouncer. "Andre, long time no see. How's it going?" Your tone was sweet, calm. It would put anyone who didn't know you at ease. But the giant man at the door knew the look in your eye. It meant business. "Not too bad miz' Y/N. Here for the boss?”

"You know it." Andre gave you a knowing smile and stepped aside, letting you pass into the office. You walked slowly inside, not wanting your heels to give you away. Inside the office, Yuta sat behind his desk. A woman, presumably a dancer, sat in his lap. Her hand was on his chest, as she laughed at something he said before you came in.

"Well what the fuck do we have here?" Your casual words startled the pair. Yuta jumped, knocking the girl onto the floor. You'd probably laugh if you weren't pissed off. "Oh shit, Y/N! What the hell are you doing here?" Yuta asked, quickly adjusting his coat over his chest, as if he hadn't just been being felt up by one of his dancers.

"What the hell am I doing here? Oh I don't fucking know Yuta, maybe checking in on my children's dumbass father, who apparently forgot how to answer a got damn phone call! You've seriously been ghosting me to try and get your dick wet?!"

You were yelling now, and you hadn't meant to explode like that, but it was the last straw. Seeing him sit there, seemingly enjoying himself, while you had been worrying yourself at home had pushed you to the edge.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. Yuta looked at the dancer, catching her eye. "Candy, can we get some privacy please?" The woman, who'd been sitting on the floor the whole time, quickly got up, fixing her outfit before trotting out of the room. When you hear the door close, you release the breath you were holding.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. Can you please let me explain?" Sighing, you nod, earning a gentle smile from him. He grabbed your hand, guiding you to sit down in one of the mismatched chairs he liked to keep around. "Don't think you're off the hook though Nakamoto. I'm mad as fuck, and I don't want excuses, I want answers."

"Okay Y/N, calm down, you know I'll give it to you straight. I wouldn't lie to you." You raised an eyebrow. "Okay maybe not all the time but- you know what, nevermind. I apologize for not returning your calls. Work has been busy." He gave a noncommittal shrug, but he wouldn't look you in the eyes. He was hiding something.

"So busy that you can't make time for your daughters? They ask for you every day. They haven't seen or heard from you in weeks Yuta! They ask for you all the time, and I have to be the bearer of bad news and hold them when they cry because their daddy is busy with 'work.' I've been calling, and you wouldn't know if they were sick or in need of something because you haven't bothered to pick up your damn phone.”

Yuta hung his head low, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. "You're right. I'm sorry. I was wrong for going off the grid like that, and you and my babies didn't deserve it. It's just been way harder lately to manage things.”

Yuta rubbed his face, and for the first time, you took in his full appearance. His coat hung off of his arms, exposing his tense shoulders. He looked paler than usual, and there were bags under his eyes, barely concealed by make-up. He looked tired. "Talk to me. What's been going on?"

"I... had to fire my head manager. He was sneaking in coke bricks for some of the dancers. And I've been trying to find the source, since every other day, a dancer is showing up high off their ass. I've got to hire new security, since some people like to sneak in." He gave you a pointed look. "And I'm not trying to 'get my dick wet' as you so nicely put it. I was trying to investigate."

You regarded him skeptically. "Getting felt up by your employees is what you call investigating? Okay Mr. Officer." Yuta rolled his eyes at you.

"Getting that close to any of the dancers is hard enough, but you just happened to ruin my meeting with one of the biggest suspects in here. Candy is a ringleader of sorts. She was fucking that manager, and I'm pretty sure he's still got her running coke in here out of spite. But I don't have enough proof, since the other dancers are scared of her. I needed to get the information somehow, but alas, here we are."

You thought back to the woman who'd been there just a few minutes ago. She didn't seem very imposing from the floor, (and clad in a skimpy pink two piece set with cat ears), but you knew you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Your eyes widened as you realized something. "So that's the tramp who was in my parking spot! With cat ears!"

Yuta's ears turned red. "You uh, you saw that?" He stuttered, embarrassed. "Hell yeah I saw it! It would be a bitch who drives a Prius. That ugly ass car." Yuta couldn't help the snort that passed his lips at that.

"In spite of all that though, I understand why you've been busier. But you still could've sent me a text back, an email, hell, a regular letter in the mail! Anything to tell me you were alright. You made me worried, Yuta. We promised to communicate, for the sake of our girls and to maintain a good emotionally safe environment for them. They need us both, and this inconsistent parenting can't go on. I'm willing to help you with whatever it is you need for this place but don't shut me out. That only hurts us all. Okay?”

"Okay. Again, I'm sorry. I'll do better Y/N, for you and my girls. You have my word." Yuta leaned across his desk, offering you his hand. Resting your hand on his, you held back a shiver as he kissed the back of your hand. His lips were warm and soft against your skin. The tension in your shoulders slowly melted away as he kept your hand in between his, rubbing it softly. It was a habit he'd learned, back when you were together, to help calm you down.

He committed all small habits of yours to memory, easily able to perceive your mood. Now, as he sat playing with your hand, his thoughts were whirling. He still felt guilty for the way he'd left you in the dark, and he felt extra guilty that you saw him with another woman on his lap.

Even though the two of you weren't together, he couldn't help feeling like he'd betrayed you. He suppressed the feelings that the ache of not being with you brought to the surface, opting to press on for the sake of his business. But the truth was that he wasn't over you. He hadn't been on the dating scene since the end of your relationship.

His dates with Candy were never anything physical. Tonight was as far as it had gotten. Internally, he felt repulsed at her constant advances; he was only trying to get information. But you weren't anymore aware of his lingering feelings than you were of his whereabouts the past few weeks. He wanted to make it up to you, and being the man he was, Yuta had an idea.

Bringing your hand up to his lips, he pressed another kiss against your skin, and another. "Boy, what are you doing?" You pulled back, but he gripped your hand. "I'm apologizing. Won't you let me show you how sorry I am, mistress?" A sudden, strong pulse thrummed between your legs. Your eyes widened, and so did Yuta's grin. Your cheeks warmed.

"Don't- Yuta, don't play with me like that-" You are cut off when he takes one of your fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes as swirled his tongue around it. He moaned, before sucking it deeper into his mouth. Your mouth hung open at his audacity. You'd forgotten how bold he could be; but your body remembered.

Your legs shifted on impulse, muscle memory betraying you. Yuta released your finger slowly, his tongue trailing the underside of it before letting it go. "Who said I was playing?" His voice was low, dripping in lust and desire. You felt another pulse, stronger this time, and the familiar, slick feeling of your arousal gliding down your thighs.

"Yuta..." You say his name in warning, but truly as an anchor for yourself. "Please? I promise I'll be good. I'll do anything you like. Whatever you want, I'll do it." You felt the temptation of his offer course through your veins for a moment or two, before you caved. "You'll do anything, hm?”

Standing from your chair, you walked around his desk. You straddled his lap, and cupped his face in your hands. "Yes. Anything." The words are barely out before your lips are on his. His lips were fervent against yours, and his arms slid up, trapping your waist against his.

You took control, pushing his head up for a better angle. Yuta let you use his mouth, letting you do as you pleased; sucking and licking your tongue against his, biting his lips, anything you wanted. Just like he'd said.

Breaking away from his lips, you pushed his jacket down, off of his shoulders. Taking the hint, he sheds the coat completely, and you run your hands along his skin. Your nails graze his stomach, earning a low groan from the man beneath you.

Grinning, you slide off his lap, shimmying out of your underwear. Sliding carefully back into his lap, you gripped onto his shoulders. Understanding your intentions, Yuta tensed his thigh, watching as you pushed yourself back and forth. His eyes glazed over. He loved watching you use him to get off. “I see you still haven't changed; begging me to use you like a whore.”

Yuta swallowed thickly, holding back a moan. He felt himself twitch in his pants. “What's the matter baby? You like being reminded how easy you are?” You looked down at him, but his eyes were locked onto your pussy, grinding into the leather material of his pants. You move your hand from his shoulder, up to his hair. You gently pull his head up until his eyes are on yours. “Eyes up here pretty boy. I asked you a question.”

It took a minute before he remembered your question, his eyes darting in confusion. “Yes mistress, I like it.” You chuckled, tightening your hand around his hair. He moaned, leaning into your touch. “Pussy makes you go all dumb, huh?” Yuta nodded, and you released him, letting his eyes fall back to you on his thigh. Eventually, you felt that familiar heat in your clit. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm pulses through you, and Yuta holds you tighter as you rock your hips through it.

When you stop, taking a few moments to catch your breath, you find Yuta staring at you. His gaze is heavy, intense in a way that has your breath catching. It was a familiar look. Your heart squeezed in your chest, but you ignored it, opting to distract yourself. “Your turn, pretty boy. Take those pants off.”

Yuta blinked, breaking his focus on you for a second, before his features shifted into a lazy grin. He picks you up, setting you carefully on his desk, before obeying your words. He unbuckles his belt with one hand, winking at you as he does, before sliding his pants off. “Show off,” You mutter as he picks you up again, placing you over the bulge in his lap.

You scoot back, giving yourself enough room to palm him through his boxers. “Aw, what's the matter, too scared to ride me?” Yuta bats his eyelashes at you, fake concern dripping from his words. You pull his dick out, not taking the bait. “The last time I rode your dick, you got me pregnant, and we don't need anymore surprises.”

Before he can come up with some snarky comment, you start stroking him, your hand squeezing up and down his length with just enough pressure to shut him up. Yuta threw his head back, moaning loud and unashamed. “Please, fuck, just like that.” He panted, feeling himself embarrassingly close to his high. He tried to hold back, wanting to savor the feeling of your hands on him.

But between the pent up frustration of the past few weeks, and his ever present desire for you, the sight of you focusing on his pleasure is too much; before he can warn you, his orgasm slams into him, crashing like waves. Your eyes widen a bit, but your hand doesn't stop, until you see his hips twitch, legs shaking from the intensity of his release. You move your hands, rummaging through his desk drawer for a towel.

His cum covers his legs, stomach, and your hands. You're sure some got on your dress as well, but it doesn't bother you as much as it probably should. You wipe your hands off before starting to clean him. “Easy there, pretty boy. Breathe.” You coach him gently, running a hand through his hair as his heavy panting slows to quiet, even breaths. When you're sure he's calm, you kiss his forehead, then his lips.

“I mean what I said Yuta. You'd better keep your promise or else I'll burn this bitch to the ground.” You poke his chest, and lean into his face. Yuta smiles at you, and for a moment, you're distracted by his beauty. “Okay, I'll be there tomorrow. I promise. I won't let you down, not again.” He slides his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it.

Your heart flutters at the gesture. Your moment is interrupted however, by your phone’s notifications going off. “I should get out of here, I need to go to work in the morning.” You slide off of his lap, standing to adjust your clothes. You see your underwear on the floor, and you bend to pick them up. Before you can reach them, you are startled by a stinging slap to your ass.

You jump up, turning to glare at Yuta, laughing his ass off. “Sorry, I couldn't resist; it was in my face!” Your eye twitches, and the laughter in his throat dies. You decide to let him get away with it for now, opting to walk out of his office. “Wait! Let me walk you out at least!” You raise your hand to acknowledge his request, before stepping into the hallway to let him get dressed.

You are expecting to find Andre still outside, but instead of the massive guard, you come face to face with two dancers. One of them was the girl from earlier, Candy. “So this is the bitch Candy? He threw you out for her?” The other one’s nasally voice immediately makes you annoyed. “Yeah that's her.” Candy steps forward, getting in your face. “Look here, bitch, I don't-”

She is cut off when your hand collides with her face, knocking her backwards in her heels. She falls to the floor in a pathetic heap, before gathering her bearings. Shock paints her face. “Did you just slap me?” You tilt your head, looking down at her. “Nooo, I gave you a hug. What do you think?”

The other dancer stomps over to you, but before she can swing, you land another slap, knocking her to the ground with her friend. Just then, Yuta emerged from the office. “Y/N what's- going on…” His words die as he sees two of his dancers on the floor. From the expression on your face, he already knew what happened. “Yuta! She slapped us and we weren't-” He holds up his hand, silencing the lie about to spill from his dancer's mouth.

“Candy, Cherry, this is my children's mother. You will treat her with respect, and if I catch you doing otherwise, we will have problems. Is that understood?” Both dancers looked down at the floor, mumbling a weak “Yes Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta jerked his head, signaling for them to get lost. When they were gone, you turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “Sorry about them, like I said, it's been getting out of hand. Here,” Yuta took your hand, placing a large stack of bills in it, “let's get you home, so I can shut this place down.” He walks you down the steps, before a few members of his security team follow you through the club to your car.

Making sure you get in your car safely, Yuta shuts your door. You roll your window down to speak. Yuta beats you to the punch though. “Do I ever tell you how hot you are when you're mad?” You roll your eyes at him, and he laughs, taking your hand. “Tomorrow Yuta, remember.” You look at him expectantly. “Tomorrow. I promise.” He squeezes your hand, and all you can do is hope that he keeps it.

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Tagging: @ddeonghwassimp, @nirvanawrites111

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andysorbit · 2 months

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hard thoughts at 1:27 am fuck it we ballin

Yuta would look you dead in your eyes while he's throttling you missionary and say "I would fucking die for you" and he'd mean that shit

#neoculturecollectives #nct smut #kpop smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #yuta smut #nakamoto yuta #kpop smut for black girls #nakamoto yuta smut #nct x black!reader #nct x gender neutral reader #nct x gender neutral!reader #kpop x gender neutral reader #nct x gn!reader #kpop x gn reader

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gojosnympho · 1 year

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stripper b!@#h - n. yuta

pairing: dom!yuta x sub!black!fem!reader, yuta x stripper!reader ft. johnny and taeyong

genre: smut, a bit of fluff <3, maybe some angst if you squint, pwp, non-idol!au

word count: 4.9k

content warnings: strangers to lovers, strip clubs, alcohol, lap dances, stripping, reader is bisexual, gxg kissing?, unprotected sex (he uses the pull out method), dirty talk, degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names (baby, baby girl, etc) praise, face sitting (f receiving), oral (m & f receiving), lil bit of impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, mentions of an mxfxf threesome

synopsis: he falls for the prettiest stripper he’s ever seen

author’s note: this was totally just supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away 🤭 so enjoy!

it was yuta’s birthday and to celebrate, johnny and taeyong took him to the strip club in downtown seoul. they’d even rented a private section for the occasion. this wasn’t yuta’s first time at this particular strip club so when he saw you, he knew for sure you were new. he could tell by the way you leaned awkwardly against the bar standing next to one of the other girls who took care of him and his friends when he came. he made eye contact with her and waved her over in hopes she’d bring you with her, and to his relief she did.

“my three favorite boys are here!” she said cheerfully, obviously tipsy off of whatever was in the glass she held in her left hand, her right hand holding yours for your comfort.

“hi candy. who’s your friend?” johnny asked nodding to you. you were a nervous wreck, and in an attempt to calm you down candy shoved her unfinished drink in your hand and encouraged you to down the rest of it, so you did. the alcohol burned your throat and you handed the glass back to her.

“this is the new girl, cinnamon. they’ve got me showing her the ropes.” candy explained to the three men. they all nodded in response, their eyes following the curves of your scantily clad body.

“foreign.” taeyong said to candy and the other two men in korean so that you couldn’t understand. they all nodded in response. candy was korean herself, you’d wondered why they didn’t stick you with one of the other black girls.

although yuta had been eyeing you all night, this was the first time he actually drank in your appearance. you were dressed in a pink metallic bikini, a pair of clear pleaser heels, and sheer white thigh high socks. he loved the way your thick thighs peaked out over the sides of them and how sexy your body looked. your hair was a long straight ginger wig and your makeup was done so that you looked innocent. he’d wondered if that was your idea or candy’s. his money was on candy. his favorite part though, was the glitter your brown skin was covered in. it made you glow in the low light of the club.

“well we came to celebrate yuta’s birthday and you know we pay good. so why don’t you put on a nice little show for us?” johnny said, pulling a fat wad of cash from his jean’s pocket. your eyes damn near bulged out of your head at the sight. you needed that money.

you were gonna need another drink if you were gonna get through this night without blowing a gasket and you told candy as such. but before she could trudge off to the bar, the blonde man whose name you learned was yuta, held up an unopened bottle of casamigos.

“we can share this.” he said to you. you were about to decline his offer but before you could candy was pushing you toward him.

“thank you.” you said shyly, walking over to him and sitting next to him. with you this close he could smell the perfume you spritzed on yourself and it made him even more attracted to you. yuta cracked open the bottle, “tilt your head back and open your mouth.” he said. you gave him a funny look at first but ultimately followed his directions. you needed that money.

he poured a shot's worth of tequila down your throat and you swallowed like a pro, “good girl.” he praised you. you wiped the small bit that dribbled down your chin with the back of your hand while you stared at the man. he was so fine and he was the first man who didn’t make you feel uncomfortable in that degrading ass strip club.

“that’s hot.” taeyong said, taking a sip from his glass.

yuta gave you more tequila and soon the anxiety began to melt away. you felt looser now, ready to do whatever they wanted in order to get that stack johnny had sitting next to him on the couch.

“c’mere cinnie.” candy said, making grabby hands at you. you moved from your spot next to yuta, to his dismay, and walked over to where she sat next to johnny. she patted her lap, signaling you to sit there. you did. “why don’t you show my boys how good you are?” she said lowly into your ear. you could smell the alcohol on her breath but you couldn’t judge her because you were sure yours wasn’t much better.

yuta, johnny, and taeyong’s eyes were all on you. you began to roll your hips on candy’s lap, letting the music (and the alcohol) guide you. this wasn’t the first time you’d given candy a lap dance, she’d encourage you to practice on her all the time. praising you and giving your ass smacks, and giving you pointers to make your performance better.

“good job, cinnie.” candy praised you. “now why don’t you give the birthday boy some attention?” she said gesturing to yuta who was staring at you intensely. you nodded at her but before you could move off her lap, she planted a kiss on your lips, her tongue exploring your mouth. you kissed her back. this wasn’t the first time she’d kissed you either and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t enjoy it. she pulled away first, “naughty girl.” she whispers before handing you off to yuta, who was more than happy for you to give him the same treatment you gave candy.

you sat on his lap and you started to swirl your hips on him the same way you’d done to candy. he kept his hands to himself, letting you do your thing. he let his eyes trail over every inch of your body, making sure you felt his stare.

“how old are you turning?” you asked him, wrapping your arms around his neck while you grinded down on him. he chuckled, showing you his pretty white teeth. “i’m twenty-seven today.”

you hummed in response while you continued to dance on him. “you can touch me, ya know? i don’t mind.” you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips and yuta had to refrain from moaning. your skin was so soft. “better?” you asked him. he nodded at you.

after the song ended, you climbed off of the man. you’d noticed the one hundred dollar bill tucked in your garter. that was the biggest tip you’d ever gotten and if it wasn’t weird to hug him you would’ve.

every private section had a pole and a small stage, which is where candy had found herself while you were servicing yuta. she was spinning around on the pole and doing tricks while johnny and taeyong threw money at her. next she began to untie her bikini top and threw it at taeyong. candy was so confident when she danced, you’d hoped one day you’d be the same. you were still new to this. when the song playing over the club’s speakers ended, candy bent down to collect all the money the two men had tipped her.

“it’s your turn, cinnamon.” those simple words had anxiety threatening to creep it’s way back into your mind. before it could fully poison your brain, you took candy’s place on the stage. the three men giving their undivided attention to you. as soon as your hand touched the pole, beyoncé’s dance for you started to play over the speakers. the tequila and the way yuta was staring at you had every doubt falling out of your head as you started to dance. you were lost in the beat, twirling around the pole, and moving your body to the beat of the song.

you slid down the pole, keeping your eyes on yuta the whole time who hadn’t even tried to look away from you once since you started your routine. he sat back with his legs spread and bottle in hand. he and his friends were throwing money and praises at you while you danced. taking a page out of candy’s book, you began to untie your bikini top. you let it slide off of your body sensually and fall down onto the pile of money that had accumulated throughout the song. yuta’s eyes zeroed in on your bare chest and his already uncomfortable erection got even more uncomfortable. he was almost sure he was gonna bust in his jeans. when the song finished and you’d collected your money and bade goodbye to the three men, you headed to the locker room to count the money you’d earned tonight.

“did you have fun tonight, cinnie?” candy asked sitting down next to you.

“i did! thank you.” you said, pecking her on the cheek.

“anything for my favorite girl.” and with that she left you to continue counting your money.

nine hundred dollars. you made nine hundred dollars in one night, that’s what you made in two weeks when you were still working a nine to five. you smiled tucking the money into your bag.

it was around midnight when you were headed out of the club for the night. you traded your bikini for some jeans and a tight fitting baby t-shirt and your pleasers for a pair of sneakers. you held your bag tightly to your side while you walked through the club and outside to wait for your ride. you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone you hadn’t even noticed the man standing in front of you, you jumped in fear until you realized it was yuta.

“you scared the shit out of me! you cannot sneak up on me like that!” you scolded him.

“i’m sorry. i just wanted to say thank you for tonight.” he smiled, showing you those pretty teeth of his once again. you couldn’t help but to smile back at him, “no problem, birthday boy.”

“you know i don’t usually do this but, do you wanna go home with me?” he asked hopefully. this wasn’t the first time a customer had asked you to come home with him after a session but with yuta…it was different. he made you feel comfortable. when he noticed that you hadn’t responded he quickly shook his head, “i’m sorry i asked. i’ll leave you alone.” he was about to walk off but you grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“i’d love to go home with you, yuta.”

yuta all but sighed in relief at your words. this time he was grabbing your hand so he could lead you to an all black suv. he opened the door for you and helped you inside and then climbed in after you. you should’ve guessed by the private section and the shit ton of money he and his friends were throwing that he was well off, but the nice car with clean black leather seats and a personal driver really took the cake.

you’d spoken too soon. when the driver stopped the car in front of a posh, expensive-looking penthouse apartment building, that’s what took the cake. yuta pulled a one hundred dollar bill from his wallet to tip his driver and then helped you out of the car. the walk to his apartment was quiet. you were anticipating what else tonight could bring and he was thinking about getting you out of your clothes.

his apartment was beautiful. the decor was breathtaking, the marble floors looked virtually brand new and the ceilings were tall. you looked around in awe, taking in everything.

“i can take your bag for you.” he said, holding his hand out to take your pink duffle bag for you. usually you didn’t let anybody touch your bag but you doubted he’d steal from you when he had all of this. you handed him the bag and he placed it in the closet by his front door. “do you want a drink?” he asked.

“what do you have?” he grabbed your hand to take you to the mini bar in his living room. he opened the cabinet to take inventory of what he had before answering. “hmm, do you like dark liquor?”

“not really but i’ll drink it.” you replied to him. he grabbed a half finished bottle of some expensive dark liquor you’d never even heard of and two glasses. he wasn’t gonna pour it in your mouth this time, you noted.

“ice?” he questioned. you nodded in response.

after he made your drinks you both took a seat on his couch while you drank and talked.

“why’d you come all the way to korea? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“no, it’s okay. i actually moved here originally for school but some shit happened so i had to withdraw. i worked at some other places and now i’m stripping.” you explained to him.

“do you enjoy it?” he asked you curiously.

“living here or taking off my clothes for money?” he laughed at your words before answering, “both i guess.”

“it’s not that bad, honestly. living here is definitely different from the states. the stares took a bit getting used to. as for stripping? yes i do enjoy it. it keeps the bills paid and it’s fun!”

yuta just hummed in response before taking another sip of his drink. you couldn’t get over how perfect he seemed. rich, handsome, and charming. you were gonna ask him about himself but when you looked over he was staring directly at you. you felt your skin heat up and yuta smiled knowingly at you.

“you’re so gorgeous.” he said, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face. you almost melted. of course people complimented you all the time but this one felt genuine.

“thank you.” you breathed out

it was like a chain reaction. he complimented you, you were on his lap, and then you were kissing him. he wasn’t hesitant to touch your body this time. he was rubbing his hands everywhere they could reach. your sides, your hips, your ass, your thighs.

“let’s go upstairs.” he said against your lips. you didn’t want the kiss or his hands on your body to cease for even a second but you nodded. to your surprise, yuta scooped you up like you weighed nothing and carried you to his room. once inside, he dropped you on his king sized bed and admired the way you were laid out so prettily for him. “i’m gonna undress you, okay baby?” you nodded once again.

he started with your sneakers pulling them off and throwing them somewhere in the room. then he moved up your body to unbutton and unzip your jeans. he pulled the denim down your legs and threw them to join your shoes. he caressed your thighs softly drawing a mewl from your lips. he moved up your body once more and took off your t-shirt and threw that as well. because he was kind enough to undress you, you did the same to him, pulling his t-shirt and his pants off. now you sat in front of each other half naked: you in your bra and panties, him in his calvin klein briefs.

you wasted no time pressing your lips back to his and climbing back onto his lap. you slipped your tongue in his mouth moaning at the taste of him. he moaned in return, gripping your ass cheeks in his large palms and then bringing a hand down to leave a smack on your cheek. you rutted against him at the feeling hoping he’d get the hint that you wanted him to do it again, so he did. he landed a smack on the other cheek, smiling against your lips at the noises that managed to slip past them. you pulled away from the kiss and pushed him back on his bed.

“why did you wanna take me home and not candy?” you asked the blonde male you were sitting atop of as you traced teasing circles on his chest with your acrylic nail.

“because she’s not you.” he said.

“no? stripper bitches ain’t just all the same to you?” you joked but yuta frowned at your words. you were special and he knew that from just a few hours of getting to know you.

“you’re different.” he replied, sincerity prominent in his tone.

instead of responding you dipped down to place a kiss on his lips. after you pulled away, you reached behind you to unclip your bra, you dropped it off the bed to join the pile of clothes you and yuta created.

“come sit on my face.” he said grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you up his body until you were straddling his face. “sit down and stop playing with me.” he complained, pulling you down on his face. you felt his warm breath fan across your panty-covered pussy and you moaned slightly at the feeling. yuta stuck his tongue out and licked a long stripe over the fabric of your panties. you sucked in a breath, the friction from the fabric making the pleasure feel a little more intense. he did it again and you whined, reaching down to grip his hair. you began to rock your hips on his face, your clit bumping deliciously against his nose at every movement. yuta, who was tired of teasing and needed to taste your pussy for real, pulled the spit and arousal soaked panties out of the way to reveal your pretty pussy to his dark eyes. he slurped up your juices eagerly, your moans and cries of pleasure egging him on.

“fuck yes. please don’t stop.” you cried out. your words were music to his ears. he placed both of his hands on the globe of your ass cheeks and assisted you with riding his face. your body writhed and shook as you tried to stay on top of him. to ground yourself you grabbed onto his hair once more and rutted against his tongue. he was moaning beneath you, savoring every drop of your arousal as it dripped from you. your clit was once again being stimulated by the tip of his nose so between the way his tongue felt and that sensation, your orgasm was creeping up on you.

“yuta—shit!” you gasped when he began moving his head back and forth in quick motions, his eyes staring up at you while you shook and cried for him. the feeling in your belly got tighter and tighter, threatening to snap and with one more move of your hips you were cumming all over yuta’s face, wetting it with your juices.

once you recovered from your orgasm, you slid back so that you were seated on his chest. you were shaking from how intense the orgasm was and all yuta could do was laugh at you.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned

“if you’re shaking like that from just my tongue i can’t wait to see what you’re gonna do after i fuck you.” before his words could register fully, he’d pushed you down his body so your exposed pussy was pressed against his hard dick. you could feel how big it was just from sitting there and it scared you. “you feel how hard you make me, cinnamon?” your body froze up at the name, you’d realized you hadn’t even told him your real name.

“that’s my work name. you can call me by my real name.” you told him sliding down his body once more until you were between his legs. you pulled his briefs down just enough so that his dick could spring free and slap against his stomach.

“what’s your real name then?” he asked you his voice laced in curiosity. you whispered your name to him before placing kisses on the length of his dick. just as he was about to say something you sucked the head into your mouth. yuta grunted, slightly bucking his hips up. because you were so generous and such a good girl you took more of him into your mouth and relished the way your lips stretched from the thickness. this time he let out a hiss when he felt the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat. you gagged around him which made yuta smile down at you.

“you’re so fucking good at this aren’t you? you fucking slut.” you moaned at the name, your pussy fluttering pathetically around nothing. yuta smiled at you once more, “oh you like that huh?” you mumbled a garbled “mhm” as you continued to suck him off. to test the waters even further, yuta held your head down as he fucked into your warm mouth. his moans flowed out one after the other as you gagged and choked around him. when he was satisfied he pulled you off by your hair. your lips and his dick connected by a string of spit. this time you smiled at him. tears were sliding down your cheeks but you loved every second of it. you took him into your mouth again, gagging once again when he pushed his hips up to thrust into your mouth.

“my dirty, dirty girl. i don’t think i’m gonna be able to leave you alone after this.” he told you with a breathy moan and you hummed in response, your mouth still full of his thick dick. he twitched at the vibration of you humming so you did it again. “fuck i’m gonna cum in your pretty little mouth if you keep doing that, baby. i wanna cum from fucking you.”

you pulled off of him and then he flipped your bodies over so that he was slotted between your open legs. he pulled your panties completely off and then his briefs.

“you gotta condom?” you asked him

he reached over to his bedside table and rummaged around for one but came up empty. “i promise i’m clean and i promise i’ll pull out.”

“okay. i trust you.” you said.

he spread your legs even more getting a look at your pussy and the pretty pink insides and your dark lips. yuta slapped his dick against your pussy and watched as your face screwed up in pleasure. he then proceeded to rub his full length through your folds to collect your arousal and then he pushed into you with a deep moan. you cried out at the intrusion, your pussy trying to get used to him.

“relax, baby.” he coos as he rubbed circles into your hips in an attempt to calm your trembling body.

“so full.” is the only sentence that your screwed up brain could produce.

“but you’re taking it so fucking good. see?” he thrusted into you and you gasped, back arching off the bed. he thrusted into you again and grunted at the tightness of your pussy. he set a steady pace now rocking into you while you moaned and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. he looked down at you beneath him and admired the way you looked. your eyes were closed from the pleasure as your tits bounced with each thrust. he reached down to pinch your nipples which drew yet another moan from you.

“fuck me harder.” you begged him, looking up at him with those eyes he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get out of his head.

he complied with your wishes and snapped his hips into you at a rough pace while he dug his fingers into your hips to pull you down onto his dick with every toe curling thrust.

“oh shit!” you cried out throwing your head back. tears were sliding down your cheeks and you really didn’t think you were gonna last that much longer.

“does that feel good, baby? my dick in your slutty fucking pussy?” you moaned loudly at his dirty words, your pussy fluttering around his length. “you like that shit?” you nodded because it’s all you could do but yuta wasn’t having it. “no. use your words. you can use that slutty mouth for everything else.”

“i-i —fuckkk yes!” you screamed and the man above you laughed at you for what felt like the umpteenth time tonight but you knew it was just his sick way of teasing you.

“you’re such a good little slut i see why candy was all over you.” your pussy clenched at the name of your friend. “since you like her so much maybe next time i’ll invite her over so we can fuck you together. like the little whore you are. would you like that?”

the thought of yuta and candy fucking you had your orgasm nearing so steadily you were sure if he kept talking you were gonna cum all over him.

“answer me, baby. is that what you want?” yuta asked. he never let up while he fucked you. still pounding into your pussy at a brutal pace. the sound of skin against skin resounded throughout yuta’s bedroom.

“yes! yes fuck i want it so bad!” you screamed. yuta who was satisfied with your answer reached down to thumb your clit and your back arched off the bed once more. you tried to pull away from his touches but he wasn’t having it. he landed a slap on your clit which had you crying out again.

“don’t fucking run from me. you understand me?”

“ ‘m sorry.” you mumbled out.

he started to rub your clit again while he pounded your little hole. you were so dangerously close to toppling over the edge and yuta knew it too. he sped up the movement of his hand on your clit making you cry out and try to pull away from him again. this time he used his free hand to land smacks on both of your breasts.

“i said stop fucking running from me you fucking slut. take this dick.”

“yuta!! yuta i’m cumming! i’m cumming! fuckkk! i’m cumming!” you screamed right before you squirted all over him, yourself, and his bedsheets. “oh fuck!” you were so fucked out you didn’t even realize the mess you made at first until yuta taunted you.

“my pretty little slut’s a squirter.” he teased you. he had stopped his movements to let you calm down a bit, what a gentleman.

“i’m sorry.” you replied, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath after the intense orgasm ripped through your body. yuta was right. you were shaking even more now than you were earlier.

“don’t apologize. that was so sexy.” he praised you before leaning down to place a kiss on your swollen lips. “now let me get my nut in, yeah?” you nodded.

he started moving again, fucking into you trying to chase his orgasm. the overstimulation had you ready to cum again and you reached down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. your third orgasm came first. you creamed around his length and the tight clench of your pussy had yuta’s following right behind yours. just before he could spill inside of you, he pulled out and painted your belly with his milky white seed. he took it a step further and rubbed his release into your skin until it left a shiny sheen on your body.

“you okay?” he asked you, out of breath and collapsed on the bed next to you.

“i’m so good.” you mumbled hazily.

you laid there in silence for a good five minutes before you rolled off the bed and began to collect your clothes off of the floor.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked you, sitting up to get a better look at how you moved around his room.

“getting ready to leave?” you answered in a confused tone.

“no you’re not. get over here.” he demanded standing off of the bed and grabbing your arm. “you think i’m just gonna fuck you and send you home? god, _____, i’m not a monster.” your name falling from his lips had your heart skipping a beat. “i’m gonna run you a bath and then we’re gonna go to bed, okay?”

“okay.” you replied. you dropped your clothes back to the ground and watched as he walked to the bathroom connected to his very large room. he flicked the light on and then turned the water on to run you a bath.

once you were out of the bath, yuta cuddled with you on fresh sheets until you both fell asleep.

…

the next morning when you cracked open your eyes and realized you weren’t in the bedroom of your apartment, every memory from last night began to flood back in your mind. god i’m such a slut! you thought to yourself. you looked over at yuta’s sleeping body and contemplated on waiting for him to wake up or just leaving before he did. when you decided on the latter, you tried to slide from underneath the man’s arm but he stopped you.

“trying to leave me again, baby girl?” he questioned, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“you must really like me huh?” you teased him.

“i do.” he sat up in bed and stretched before turning to look at you. “i told you i can’t leave you alone after this. you might as well get used to it.” he smiled before giving you a kiss on your cheek.

“you got me cheating on candy!” you joked and the man chuckled at you before replying, “i said we could invite her to join. i’m sure she’d love it.”

“oh you were serious?”

“yes.”

“i’ll ask her.” you assured him.

“good girl.” he praised you. “now do you wanna eat or do you wanna fuck again and then eat?” he asked you as he rubbed your thighs beneath the blanket.

“let’s fuck.”

#ten writes 🧚🏾‍♀️#kpop x black reader #nct smut #nct x black reader #yuta x reader #yuta x black reader #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto smut #nakamoto yuta smut

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agust-june · 9 months

Text

Creep

Yuta x blk reader smut

A/n: This is part 2 to this post. Here, I wrote what came to mind, so I hope yall like it.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI oral, unprotected sex (please in this economy and in the country practice safe sex use protection please) oral sex (m receiving), thigh riding, thigh fucking, cheating, gaslighting, everyone is a shitty person but Mark who minds his business.

Ever since the party, Yuta has been frustrated. You had been avoiding him and his texts. He knew it was a game, and yet he wanted more. Especially when he saw you last week dancing in the club. You were dancing alone, looking him in the eyes as the rhythm of the music overtook your body. He wanted to dance with you. However, as he was walking towards you, another man swooped in, and you accepted. As Yuta watches from the crowd dancing with some random ass girl, he isn't interested in watching you as you smile wickedly at him. Taunting him in this game because he knows once he gets close, you'll leave just like that. Yuta leaves the club as Lisa calls him, asking where he is. But that was last week. Tonight was a different story. Instead of coming home to Lisa and her usual "Hey. How was your day?" And a kiss on the cheek. He came home to an upset Lisa who had a suitcase.

"What's all this?" Yuta asks, confused as Lisa wipes her tears. Her eyes were slightly red as if she were crying for hours.

"I'm leaving. Yuta, I can't do this, " Lisa says as she gets up and rolls her suitcase, but Yuta stops her.

"What are you-"

"I know you're cheating,"

Yuta freezes but acts normal on the outside. But inside something was telling him no. The guilt rushed in, and the fear of losing Lisa spiraled.

"What? Cheating? Where did you get that?"

"Oh? Yuta, you don't talk to me! You're partying with Mark. You don't take me on dates! It's like I'm living with you but you just ignore me like I'm not even there" Lisa exclaims she was frustrated with him and though she didn't have proof she knows Yuta was in Y/n's hands. That hurt her even more wondering if he was seeing that evil bitch.

"I just have a lot going on. Just because I'm not making time with you doesn't mean I'm Cheating. Also, you could come to meet me or go to parties with me" Yuta defends. Though he was guilty of cheating he didn't want to lose Lisa altogether. So he bothered not even telling the truth.

"Or you can stop going altogether" Lisa snaps having Yuta taken aback.

"What?"

"Oh come on Yuta I know you went to parties to see her!" Lisa yelled, making Yuta surprised as he calmed down on the inside. Why and how was she watching him? Well, he knew the Why part. Ever since Y/n answered his phone that day Lisa had been clinging to him. Asking him where he was going. Who he was going to be with? When will he be home? Or tell him to come home early. But Yuta hadn't known the real conversation that transpired between Lisa and Y/n.

"What are you talking about? I go to parties to relax," Yuta says as Lisa just scoffs. Her jealousy and insecurities showed.

"Yeah right. Y/n is just magically at the party and you don't see her right?!"

"No! Of course, I don't!" Yuta yells feeling frustrated. Why couldn't Lisa let it go? He thought.

"You wanna know why I'm so stressed? Why do I go out every other weekend to party? Because of you! Lisa for the past two months you've been nagging me! Then I'm working on top of getting a degree. Do you think classes are easy?"

"No but-

"Listen. I'm not looking for Y/n or anyone else if that's what you think. I appreciate you and everything you do for me. Now please can we stop fighting? Put your stuff back" Yuta says as Lisa did what she said not willing to argue about it. She loved Yuta and trusted him. She felt stupid of course Yuta wouldn't cheat. Yuta on the other hand was glad she pressed further. Though he hasn't done anything for a month that doesn't mean he was innocent. The worst part is he knows it, he knows that if she found out the whole truth she'd leave him.

Lisa looks at Yuta and he looks back at her. The next thing the two know is that their living room was a mess and they somehow ended up in the bedroom kissing. Yuta didn't know if it was because he was so frustrated but he realized he missed you, no Lisa. He had forgotten how her lips tasted and how her voice sounded when she moaned his name. Even how she touched him. But it wasn't the same his mind kept comparing her to you.

"W-wait stop stop stop" Yuta pushes himself off Lisa as she looks at him confused.

"I-I have a long day tomorrow. Especially in class-

"See this is what I'm talking about Yuta! You won't have sex with me now!"

"I told you I'm just not in the mood tonight. I'll be busy in the morning, is that what you want?"

"No! But it's never stopped us before! Yuta I just want to touch you, babe, please...I want you to make love to me" Lisa whispered in his ear as Yuta nodded. He knows if he brushed her off now she'll never be satisfied. As they continued what they were doing, Lisa started working on his clothes. Yuta hisses as he feels his girlfriend's cold hands run down his chest and works at his belt. By the time the pair were ready, Yuta realized he needed protection. Lisa wasn't on the pill he would know because she would tell him before she had gotten one.

"I need a Condom-

"Yuta it's fine I'm on the pill," Lisa says but Yuta doesn't listen and he goes to get one.

As the two were having sex Yuta didn't feel the same, his mind was going back to you. To a point where he was imagining it was you under him screaming his name while making you feel good. Meanwhile, Lisa felt the pleasure that she was craving this whole time she knew something was different he was rougher and going faster. He's never done that with her before but she wasn't complaining.

"Say my name" Yuta heard you say but he doesn't say anything, feels himself almost coming apart. He didn't say anything because he was afraid of saying your name loud and clear. Once everything was said and done Yuta of course helped clean everything up but also waited until she fell asleep. He waited so that he could slip out and go to Mark's place.

Hearing the desperate knocking on the door Mark swings it open to reveal a disheveled Yuta.

"Bro it's 1 am Why are you here?" Mark asks but he doesn't let Yuta in.

"Because you have hard liquor I can get for free," Yuta says trying to come in but Mark doesn't let him. Now he's even more concerned as to what transpired between Yuta and Lisa. If Mark wasn't mistaken Yuta went home.

"Okay, do you wanna go out? I can put on my stuff and-

"Nah I just wanna come in ooh we can watch Netflix now too" Yuta smiles but Mark looks at him nervously.

"Yuta, man my apartment is real messy why don't we just go out and I'll drop you off at home," Mark says and it was that moment

"What, do you have a girl or something? If so tell her to leave I need to vent" Yuta says

"Well yes, but I-

"Oh relax you've told your hookups to leave before why is this any different" Yuta brushed past Mark walks into his apartment his place was spick and span. He started heading to Mark's room but he let him in and nothing. But the guest room.

"YUTA!" Mark screams as Yuta turns around to look at him.

"Why are you so scared? Are you that embarrassed of me seeing you hook up? Is there something you want to talk about, are you gay Mark? Because you know I full except you"

"No. Look I love you man but if you can't respect me or my privacy get the fuck out" Mark told him which hit Yuta real hard to him Mark scolding him was new.

"Sorry man alright if you don't want me here I'll go," Yuta tells him as he's heading for the door he'll just go back home and think about things by himself. Mark felt guilty all Yuta wanted was to vent and here he was pushing him out.

"Shit! Yuta wait! I'm sorry you can stay but you gotta keep it down-

"Mark it's one in the fucking morning who can you be talk- Oh shit" Mark mentally curses as he sees Y/n walking out of the guest bedroom. Yuta looked at you, his eyes weren't deceiving him, it was you. You were wearing nothing but a button-up and a bonnet. No shorts or anything.

"Yuta listen it's NOT what you think"

"I'm fine. I don't care" Yuta says calmly and rationally. Though he did have questions like why were you here? How long have you been here? Were you sleeping with Mark too?

"Look if yall wanna hang out cool this is not my place but Mark please keep it down," you say Feeling Yuta's eyes on you. You weren't going to explain anything to him, just let Mark handle it.

"Y/n can you please explain to Yuta that it's not what it looks like?"

"No. Why should I? It's your house. Besides we're not together I have nothing to explain" you snap trying not to smile knowing you're eating away at Yuta.

"Mark like I said I don't care if you're fucking or dating I have Lisa. Besides I just came over to say something but I think I'll go Lisa would be worried"

"Yeah, you should. She certainly will be. She doesn't want me to fuck her boyfriend"

"Like I would ever fuck you" Yuta laughs at you and you smirk. Trying to deny what he already did.

"Oh, you didn't say that the last time" Yuta hitches his breath as he realized how close you were. "If I could recall you couldn't keep your hands off me. You wanted to fuck my brains out. Remember Yuta?" As you had gotten close to Yuta he could smell the intoxicating smell of your perfume. As your body came closer and sent him driving he wanted to kiss you. Yuta leans over to kiss you but before he could you curved him and went to his ear.

"If you think I'm gonna sleep with you when you smell like her you're wrong," you say, pushing him away from you. The tone sent shivers down his spine the way you said it. As Yuta watches your figure disappear off into the room and the door closes. How did she know? Yuta asked himself, hearing you lock the door.

"Dude you got fucking issues," Mark says snapping Yuta out of his trance of you. Yuta then decides to have Mark go out for a drive around town. He explains that Y/n was at his place because two weeks ago some pipes in her house broke and they were doing maintenance on it so it'll be a month before she could go back home. He then explained while she was here she's been respectful and hasn't brought any guys home which Mark is thankful for. Sometimes she even cooks for him. Then Yuta explained his situation to Lisa. From the cheating conversation to the sex conversation.

"Wait wait- dude that should've been the time to tell her the truth!" Mark hits Yuta's arms

"I know! I know... But I feel bad. I just can't let her go" Yuta sighs letting out a huff in frustration. He combs through his hair thinking of you.

"Meanwhile you want to fuck Y/n right?" Mark looks at Yuta giving him the 'you stupid bitch' look. As Yuta falls silent, Mark was right he was being stupid though he didn't say it.

"Look, you're getting too messy. You better decide on who and what you want or things will get ugly" Yuta sighs Mark was right again. But he honestly doesn't know how to let go. He's greedy and he knows it. He wants a relationship he likes Lisa however he doesn't know if he can let her go. Yuta ends up staying the night before he goes to bed he texts Lisa making up a good excuse. He needed to clear his head and get some sleep.

The next morning he woke up to the smell of your cooking and the soft humming. He opens his eyes, stretching his arms before sitting up. He watches you move around the kitchen, your hair tied back with a headscarf. You wore a very oversized T-shirt making his mind wander off. Once again he was tempted to walk over knowing he should put on his shirt and leave.

"Good morning" Yuta greets you snaking his arms around you from behind. You smile at him, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulder.

"I missed you Yuta"

"Oh really?"

"You think I don't mean it?"

"Not with that tone" Yuta states caressing your sides. The two of you rocking back as you finish the first batch of bacon.

"What tone?" You move from his grasp moving to the table.

"You know which one?" Yuta leans into you, placing a small kiss on your neck. Trying not to form a smile you move away from him.

"I don't know Yuta, why don't you tell me?" Yuta grabs your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. He looks into yours as well. They were filled with nothing but lust.

"You know exactly which face. Trying to play innocent when you're nothing but a slut" his thumb ghosts over your plump lips wondering if they were soft or how they tasted.

"Yuta-

"Can I?" He asks the pad of his thumb on the bottom lip you nod but he needs verbal consent.

"Say it."

"Yes kiss me please" Yuta's lips automatically go onto yours. It was like lightning shooting through your bodies. Your hands go everywhere from his chest to his neck and his hair. Yuta's hands wandered from your breasts to your ass and your thighs. From there he picks you up, placing you on the table. Both of you moan as you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer. Your hips dry humping against his bulge. Yuta has you lying on the table pushing your shirt up. His lips going to your breast sucking and biting on one tit and palming the other. You moan as he licks down your stomach before pulling down your shorts and panties.

"You're so fucking pretty for me" Before he could go down the two of you hear yelling.

"Yo what the fuck-

The two of you look at Mark in shock quickly getting up and off the table. You pull your bottoms back up and Yuta finds his shirt from the floor putting it back on. Not a moment later the smoke alarms start blaring. You then remember the stove was still on. Yuta cuts it off as you try to fan the smoke away.

You and Yuta sit on the couch as Mark paces around. Yuta felt a bit of shame about what he was going to do to you if Mark hadn't come in.

"Alright Y/n you have a new rule. Don't fuck Yuta in my apartment got it?"

"I mean~ it's not my fault Yuta can't keep his hands to himself" Yuta looks at you he wants to say something back but he stops himself.

"I don't care if it's you or him. Do not fuck in my apartment. Actually move over both of you are too close for me"

"That's what you call close? I can be closer Yuta wouldn't mind me on his lap right Yuta" that tone rang through his ears. The way you say his name sounds like honey dripping from your tongue. You were bad for him and he knows that, but he can't pull away. Like a drug addict, he was addicted.

"Oh hell no. Stop distracting him. Look! I don't care if you two are hooking up. I gave my advice just don't bring your mess into my apartment if you wanna fuck? Go ahead but not here. That's my boundary don't cross it or so help me God Y/n you will be on the street" Your whole body became stiff understanding what Mark said. You then stand up walking up to Mark.

"Alright, I'm sorry. It won't happen again" Yuta and Mark look in awe this was the first time he's heard you talk so sincerely. Usually, you're nonchalant or laughing while apologizing.

"Well, I'm going to go to my room let me know when he leaves" You go into your room and as soon as the door closes Mark looks at Yuta.

"What?"

"What?! Come on in my kitchen? Is she that fucking good to have your head messed up? And what are you going to explain to Lisa?!"

"Don't worry I texted her and told her that you needed me to meet with you and I slept over" Mark looked at Yuta like he was dumb. He was stunned to make words come out of his lips. Here he was thinking his friend felt remorse for cheating. Here he thought Yuta was in love with his girlfriend and was trying to fix his relationship. The truth was there in plain sight to see.

"Okay. This is the LAST time I'm helping you. Get your shit together." Mark uses a firm tone as Yuta says quietly sinking into the couch.

"You can cheat all you want. You can go back home to Lisa. Just leave me out of your mess. Don't come to me when it blows up in your face. Don't worry though I won't tell Lisa anything it's all on you or Y/n. Now get your shit and get out of here" Mark's words hurt Yuta deeply. Of course Mark wasn't going to help him and it wasn't fair for him to help build a lie Yuta understood that. So with those last words Yuta left Mark's place.

Old habits die hard and for Yuta you were a nasty one. While staying with Mark, you and Yuta exchanged numbers. From texts to calls to sneaking in the middle of the night to fuck in his car. Sure it was cramped but he didn't care. Then when your house was fixed he went over to your place a lot and he had to do a lot of tip toeing around Lisa. In the day time he'd take her out on small dates when she didn't have to work. Or on Sunday when she was off they'd spend the whole day talking. The days that he did spend with you was utter bliss. Last Thursday he took you to an arcade. The two of you competed over who could get the most points. You played the whole afternoon and into the night. By the end of it Yuta ran out of money but it was worth it as he got you one of those big prizes. He remembered how you smiled as all his points went to you. It was nice seeing you outside if the two of you were having sex. That wasn't the last outing you had together either. He took you to museums, cafes, a karaoke bar, fancy restaurants, and bowling. But that didn't stop there either, next thing he knew he was confiding in you. Leaving his things at your place.

Yuta was in his apartment just getting ready to meet up with you. When suddenly he hears knocks at the door, when he opens he immediately pulls you inside. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, smiling.

"Welcome to my home"

"Oh this is nice. Let me guess Lisa did all this?"

"Yeah she redid it when she moved here" Yuta looks around awkwardly. Of course you'd have questions if you'd never been to his place before now. He watched as you looked around the room. There were pictures of Lisa everywhere which made Yuta feel embarrassed.

"You know we could've done this at my place we still can" you suggest

"I know I just thought it would be perfect since Lisa isn't here...we could, you know, have an easier time," he explains, pulling your waist towards him.

"I'm not here to fulfill your girlfriend's shadow Yuta"

"I don't want that...I just want you" Yuta whispers, pulling you closer as he looks at your eyes. He could smell your perfume on you and your hair was different today it was in a more natural state. Honestly he preferred it that way those tight coils coming together amazed him.

"Yuta?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me"

"So? I thought you liked me looking"

"I do. But-

"Shh let me stare at my pretty girl" he coos as you pull him into a kiss. Immediately responding Yuta brings his tongue into your mouth. Feeling your tongue wrap around his, the only thought running is how your tongue wraps around his dick. Your hands go straight to his hair and the choppy back of his neck pulls him into a deeper kiss. When the two of you pull away you drag Yuta to the couch.

"Watch me" you say as you take off your jacket, pulling up your shirt slowly. Yuta looks at you as you slowly pull down your jeans revealing a nice navy blue lingerie set.

"Fuck"

"You like it?"

"Turn around for me" you obliged slowly turning your hips to give him a nice view of your ass. Yuta reaches out but you feel his presence behind you so you quickly swatted his hands away.

"Don't touch me until I say so" Yuta's eyes darken as you walk over to your purse pulling out three pieces of fabric. When you go back to Yuta you put on this garter belt. Then you bent over stepping into some black lace stocking. Yuta just stared at you holding back the urge to jump you right there.

"I'll be going back to the bathroom for a bit" you say walking away and when you disappear from his sight Yuta lets out a groan in frustration. Yuta closed his eyes, picturing you again. How you pulled up these socks then he started thinking about your ass. How he wanted nothing more to grab it and bend you over this very couch. He wanted to see your thick thighs shake as he fucks you from behind. How he'd pull you by your hair as he pounds into from the back. Imagine you screaming for him as you ride him with the garter and the socks on. When you came back Yuta was there glaring at you bringing his index and middle finger up to curl them back and forth signaling you to come over.

"Sit on my lap Y/n" You smirk simply doing as you were told as you sit right on his lap. Yuta immediately wraps his arms around you.

"You are so fucking pretty" he says kissing your neck. His hands rub up and down your thighs. You could feel how hard he was behind you, his bulge pressing against you. It made you excited to see how turned on he was for you.

"Yuta-

"How are you so wet baby?" He asks, teasing you, rubbing his fingers over your panties. Pushing into the lace making it more damp with your slick.

"Hmm? We barely started and you're already soaked. Tell me how?"

"Yuta please" you whine squirming under him, your hips pushing up begging for him to touch you.

"Answer me baby. Did you touch yourself in that bathroom? Couldn't wait for me? Hmm?" You whine as he pushes your panties against your folds. You did go to the bathroom to touch yourself but you weren't going to admit that as it was a failure. You couldn't cun you needed more.

"Come on what happened to my good girl? Do you want me to punish you baby? Have you not cum at all tonight?" Yuta grabs your breasts and shoves his fingers inside you. You moan in satisfaction as he brings them in and out your hole.

"I did!"

"What baby?"

"I touched myself in the bathroom" you let out as Yuta smirks thinking of ways he was going to break you. His fingers didn't stop moving however while they were inside you they curled inside of you. You were a mess on him, your head was tilted back resting on his shoulders. Until he had an idea.

"Ride my thigh" he whispers but you didn't hear him at first so he decided to play with your clit more. It wasn't until he knew you were close that he pulled his fingers out making you whine.

"Ride my thigh for me baby then you can cum" he promises tapping his left thigh. As soon as you get onto his thighs Yuta grabs your waist on both sides. At first he lets you move on your own. You close your eyes feeling your stomach tighten as your lips brush against the Jean material. You hold onto Yuta for support holding onto his chest. Yuta groans, feeling you soak up his jeans, but you were going too slow for his liking.

"Go faster baby" you let out a whine when Yuta smacks your ass. You go faster as he instructed until he started gripping your waist harder, pushing and pulling your hips. Yuta comments on how wet you are. How he can't wait to fuck you.

"I'm- I-" you were out of breath but Yuta knew what you meant.

"Cum for me Y/n" and you did your thighs shaking as you cum on his jeans. Yuta rubs your back as you cry against him. Once you calmed down Yuta had more ideas. As he was still hard watching you get off was the hottest thing he's seen and he wants to see it again. Yuta pulls you into another kiss this time more sloppy than the last one. You broke the kiss getting off his lap and onto your knees. Yuta begins unbuttoning his pants and zipping his fly down. You help him pull down his pants and underwear making his cock spring out. He was so hard his tip was even leaking with pre cum. Yuta groans as you wrap your hands around his cock and stroking it slowly. Yuta looks at you with your pretty hand with your blue nails going up and down his shaft.

"F-fuck Y/n just like that" Yuta let's out as you take him into your mouth. Your pretty thick lips making his dick disappear down your warm wet throat always had an affect on him. His hands went to your hair pulling in it gently, your tongue swirling around his dick as Yuta groans. He closed his eyes imagining how you'd look in 69 position. In his bed eating you out while you do the same for him. Wanted nothing more than to taste your juices licking your cunt making you whine against him sending vibrations onto his cock. Yuta started grabbing your hair tighter as you sucked harder and faster, his hips moving against your mouth. It wasn't until he let out a broken moan and thrusted a little too roughly as he heard you gagged. He opened his eyes immediately.

"Shit! Are you okay? Baby im- ohhh fuck!" Yuta didn't even finish as you went back to sucking him off this time taking him deeper into your mouth.

"What a pretty slut you are. Taking my cock so well baby" he cooed as tears started to form up. Yuta was so close he just needed a little more to get on the edge. He takes your hand and places it on his balls. Making you fondle and play with him.

"Here- baby play with- ohh fuck yes you're so good at sucking dick- f-fuck!" You almost pulled off of him taking your free hand and stroking his shaft again while sucking tip before moving your hand and taking him into his mouth. Yuta cums into your mouth fucking it into you as he releases. You moaned at the salty taste, swallowing every drop of it.

"How was it?" You ask Yuta who is a panting mess as he laughs at you breathlessly.

You don't remember how you got here but sometimes your clothes were discarded and you were now bent over Yuta's table. Your thighs soaked with lubricant as Yuta stood behind you kissing down your spine. His hands meanwhile were kneading your ass and your cunt. He was getting ready to fuck you from behind but he wanted to play with your body like it was his toy. You were shaking and whining as you felt his cock rubbing between your thick thighs to your wet folds. It felt so good when you felt his hard dick against your lips and then vanished. The tip occasionally rubs against your clit.

"Please!" You cry out making Yuta smirk

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Please Y-Yuta! I-I need you!" You whine frustrated as to why he hasn't fucked you yet.

"Need what, baby?"

"Your cock!"

"But you already have it right here" his smug face as he looks at you squirm beneath him trying to fuck yourself using his cock between your thighs though it wasn't much. All it did was make you ache more.

"You know what I mean!" You press your thighs together making Yuta groan in shock but that didn't last long as he sharply fucking your thighs again before shaking your ass.

"Beg for it then" he growls

"Please! Yuta I need you to fuck me"

"Not enough baby. Beg for daddy's cock some more" Yuta's groans in frustration as he feels your wet cunt begging for him to fuck you. This was his own doing but now he was ready to stop playing games.

"Please daddy I need it! Please Yuta- I-"

Yuta doesn't let you finish as he pushes inside you, filling you up until he can't. He grunts as his thrusts are fast. Fucking you like you were leaving him. You were so wet and tight even all that teasing your poor cunt didn't even stretch. He watched as you screamed and cried while your ass jiggled with each slap when his thighs met you. He watched as you grabbed the table but it didn't help as he bent over to grab your hand. He didn't stop moving either in fact he fucked you faster.

"Oh my God!" You screamed as Yuta licked your ear before biting it. He let go and started whispering how he's been waiting to fuck you like this. How good you feel on his cock. Just degrading you in any way possible.

"Daddy!" You scream as Yuta raises your body up so that he could touch your tits, grabbing them and kneading them, feeling them bounce in his hands. Not long after Yuta slows down his pace making you whine but he had other plans. He moves one hand from your breast up and licks up your neck before grabbing it thrusting harder. You scream and feel yourself clenching around his dick so hard. You shake as Yuta holds you, calming you down. But that was only the start.

The night was a blur after that all you remembered was ending up in his bed. Yuta looks at you in the eyes as he slows down his pace looking at you in the eyes. He was holding your hands while making love to you. He wanted this to last for more than one night. He wanted your scent all over his sheets to his mattress. He wanted to be yours.

"Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum baby"

"Yuta!" You moan feeling yourself cum for the 3rd or 4th time tonight. Yuta leans to kiss as you calm down from your own orgasm. Yuta was chasing his own, keeping the same sharp pace. But it wasn't going to be too long as you free one of his hands you wrap around his neck along with your legs around his torso. You pull him in closer bringing him to the edge as you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"F-fuck! Y/N I love you" your eyes widen as you feel Yuta cum inside you. His body completely shudders and breaks down as he continues to kiss you and saying I love you. You lay there in shock at his words before crying.

After cleaning up and showering you and Yuta laid in bed on your side. Yuta was holding you and rubbing your arm as you looked at the wall. You thought about his confession. Did he mean it? Or was it in the heat of the moment? More importantly you had to sort out your own feelings. At first you were using him for your own personal gain. But now things were different and you felt different about Yuta.

"I got these and the other sheets for you" he says

"Really?"

"You look pretty in blue" he admits playing with the sheets as he looks to your backside. Marked up with nothing but slight bruises from the earlier activities. Yuta wanted this to be his every night and wake up next to you every morning. He wanted to bring you out on dates and just love you how you needed to be loved.

"Y/n"

"Hmm?"

"I want to break up with Lisa." Your stomach drops at Yuta's works. You turn your body around, trying to confirm his seriousness.

"I wanna leave her for you"

"Yuta-

"Y/n I love you. I can't go on pretending I don't"

"But-

"I know you love me too," Yuta says, his hands pulling your body closer. You kiss him, and he instantly kisses back. The two of you spent the rest of the night kissing and holding each other.

In the early hours of the morning, you snuck out of the bedroom, leaving Yuta sleeping alone. You went into the living room to make a small phone call.

"Hey Jae, it's me. Listen to those photos you took of me and Yuta... delete them. I have what I want. She's gonna flip her shit when she finds out I have her little boyfriend or soon to be ex-boyfriend. My revenge is going to be so damn sweet. Anyways, I'm gonna enjoy this and tell Yuta everything. " With that, you end the call going back to the beat, seeing Yuta still sleeping. You crawl back into bed, getting under the sheets and playing with his hair and stroking his face. Your heart flutters, admiring how beautiful he is. You couldn't help but feel excited to date again. Sure, you've gone on a date with Yuta before. Those "hangouts" weren't just that they were more. You weren't stupid. Soon, you don't have to be low-key with him. He was yours all this time from the moment you met. That made you happy, but happiness is a short feeling. It's only a temporary high as you were being watched. And the person watching you was not happy.

#nakamoto yuta smut #black y/n #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nct #yuta smut #yuta x reader #black kpop stans

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theehexgirl · 1 year

Text

desperation of an ex pt.ii

synopsis: the realization of her place in his life forces y/n to make another big decision

characters: mafia boss!yuta, black!female reader

content: realization, wedding announcement, engagement, anger, sadness, depression, closure

“What the fuck is this?” Y/N barged into his office holding a white wedding invitation. She slammed it onto his desk, not caring if he would get angry at her for even doing that.

Y/N received the invitation in the mail and as soon as she saw it, she hopped into her car and sped over to his office building to receive answers for why she received this in the first place. She needed answers and she needed them now.

“Oh. That,” he replied, picking up and dropping it back down.

“Yes. That. Since when the hell were you engaged?” Y/N questioned.

“For about six months now,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Six months? Six months?!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Yes and lower your voice,” he commanded.

“For six months you’ve been engaged and didn’t think to say anything to me?!” Y/N snapped. She didn’t give a shit about what he was telling her to do. She had every right to be angry about this. Y/N could not believe that she had been sleeping with him when he was engaged. Not only was she heartbroken, but she was stupid too.

“Why would I?” Yuta asked. That question made her pause.

“What?” Y/N said.

“Why would I tell you?” Yuta repeated.

“Because I have a right to know,” she answered.

“Why?” Yuta pressed.

“Because I don’t want to sleep with somebody already in a relationship,” she hissed.

“So what? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. We’re just having sex,” he told her. He was right. They were having sex and she didn’t need to know anything about him further than that.

“I don’t know why you’re getting riled up in the first place. You knew what this was and you were the one who proposed this arrangement in the first place,” he explained. Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment as she looked down at her feet. She could hot tears beginning to well up in her eyes. He was right. She was the one who proposed they sleep around in a desperate attempt to keep him in her life and yet she was delusional enough to believe that she could change his mind through this method. How stupid of her.

“Did you really think that I would change my mind or something?” Yuta laughed harshly. She did. She really did think he would.

“You’re more delusional than I thought. I don’t love you and I made that perfectly clear the moment we met again,” he barked out yet another laugh. Having him laugh at her didn’t feel good at all. It felt so fucking awful because she was more embarrassed in that moment. Her own naivety had fucked her over big time.

Y/N wiped away her tears, which seemed to make him laugh even more, “and now you have the nerve to cry about this? Fuck this is so pathetic.”

“So you never felt anything for me at all during all this time?” Y/N’s voice was barely audible.

“It seems that you were so stuck in your delusions of romance that you weren’t even listening to me in the first place,” he told her. Yuta stood up from his desk and walked around it to stand in front of her. She craned her neck to look up at him, tears slipping down her cheeks at full force now.

“I’m not in love with you, Y/N. Never have and never will,” he whispered to her. Y/N felt her heart completely shatter for the second time in years.

“Besides, it’s not like this arrangement will end because I’m married. This ends when I say so,” he told her, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“So I’m just on the side while you live your life?” Y/N inquired.

“I don’t know why you’re asking this as if you haven’t based your life around me in the first place. Shouldn’t you be used to this?” Yuta replied. He was right. She based a decade of her life mourning her relationship with this man and she had never felt more pathetic for doing so. She should have felt pathetic two years ago when she proposed this relationship, but she didn’t. She really set herself up for failure.

“Plus my fiancée has no qualms about you in the first place,” he informed her.

“What?” Y/N looked at him in shock.

“My fiancée knows about you and she has no issues with it,” he answered. The sadness she felt turned to embarrassment and anger. She didn’t think the one he was going to marry knew about this at all and the fact that he was telling her this so nonchalantly was upsetting her even worse.

Without hesitation, Y/N slapped him across the face. His head snapped sideways from the impact of the hit. He turned to look at her with a cut lip.

“This arrangement is over. Fuck you,” Y/N growled. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the office with tears streaming down her face. She pushed past half of his men that were in the building and headed straight for her car. She needed to get the hell away from there as fast as she could because she was so angry.

However, though she was angry when she had left his office, she completely broke down as soon as she made it home. She collapsed to the floor sobbing as the tears flowed from her eyes like a fountain. The realization of her actual place and not the one she had dreamed of for herself during these two years had made her sad beyond belief.

“Y/N,” Kimora, her best friend, wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hug. The other woman already knew why she was crying when she saw the wedding invitation. Y/N knew that this was such an “I told you so” moment for her best friend, but the other woman knew that now wasn’t the time for her to say this.

After that day, rather than being depressed about the ending of this type of relationship, she decided to move on for good. Y/N finally realized that she was tired of crying over him. Yes she loved him, but she couldn’t keep setting herself on fire to keep him warm. It was too much and she needed to move on from him. He would never love her and she should have accepted it when he told her and showed her through his actions.

Of course she would have her moments of sadness when she thought about him, but that was about it. Those moments passed as quickly as they came and she moved on about her day.

Finally, the day of his wedding came and surprisingly, she didn’t feel anything at all. She felt as if all of her feelings for him had finally disappeared now that he was tied to another person through holy matrimony. The only thing she felt for him was hope that he would live a long and happy life with his wife.

“He finally got married today. How are you feeling?” Kimora asked as they sat outside this local brunch spot.

“I’m fine,” Y/N answered. Kimora had been asking this question during the days leading up to the wedding. Y/N understood why her best friend was so worried about her, but she was really okay. She wasn’t hung up on him like before and she had finally moved like she should have a long time ago.

“Are you sure?” Kimora questioned.

“Yes I am. It’s been six months since then and you already know that I’m done crying over him,” she informed her. It was the truth. Y/N no longer had any tears to cry for him. She was as dry as the Sahara desert when it came to him and that was okay. She was tired of crying over him and she wouldn’t do it any longer.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you say you’re fine, but that might not always be the case,” Kimora added. Y/N appreciated her best friend for checking in on her during this. She knew that the time of her being depressed over him was a hard one for the other woman and she couldn’t blame her for trying to make sure she was okay. Y/N felt bad for making her friends and family worry during the days when she isolated herself and she was going to make amends for it.

“Kimora, I get it, but I’m truly fine. I loved him, but it was time for me to move on. He didn’t love me and I had to accept that. I did accept that,” she responded.

“Do you plan to get out there and date?” Kimora asked.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Here’s a drink from the gentleman from the next table over,” their server informed, placing a drink in front of Y/N. She followed the gaze of the server and saw that it was a really handsome man from one table over.

“I guess there’s our answer,” Kimora smiled.

“Yep,” Y/N agreed, smiling in the direction of the man that had sent her the drink.

“Go over there and work your magic. I’ll still be over here,” Kimora encouraged, sipping her drink.

“Thanks,” Y/N said, getting up from her chair. This was going to be the start of a new beginning for her. It was time to finally put herself out there because there were plenty of fish in the sea and he was just a mere goldfish. Y/N would be okay without him and she was going to make sure of it.

#black kpop fans #nct scenarios #yuta nakamoto #yuta x reader #black reader #curvy reader #nct 127 #nct x reader #mafia #mafia au

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aswho1estuff · 8 months

Text

Thee Other women

Ep. 3 wo-men: defined

-wo: woes or worries

-men: caused by and or having involvement with more than one man even unintentionally

Plot: May had life all planned out she was successful, comfortable, and about to get married to the man of her dreams until she answers his phone. Out of all things she never expected another woman and she certainly never expected to meet jungwoo through it.

Ep.3 Overview: "..what kinda plans do you have?"

"We're gonna send him to hell inna hand basket"

Masterlist

Playlist

May pov:

"In the most respectful way you have a perfectly acceptable reason for revenge and even if you don't want revenge you're gonna need evidence in case to be safe" the girl I've found to be named Ciara says leaning in from over her milkshake.

I can't even eat my stomach was filled with the bitter aftertaste of 'love' a feeling familiar to acid. I want to handle this like an adult but...I was planning our forever.

"You don't have to plan a revenge plot but anything you do, if you'll allow us we'd love to help. Unless your friends are we don't want overstep even more" Jungwoo says making me shake and from the side of me he reaches out to grab my hand cradling it.

Tears expand in my waterline from the comfort, I don't even remember having any lasting friendships the only friend I had was him. All his preaching of only needing each other but going to drink with his friends or what he quotes as 'coworkers' hell they probably were love interest.

I double over trying to hide my face as tears prick both sides of my face. Ciara joins my side to rub my back and cradles me with the other arm. I haven't had anyone in a while to just let me cry in peace.

"..what kinda plans do you have?"

"We're gonna send him to hell inna hand basket"

"he shall be forced to dance until he perishes"

"..with gasoline draws"

"ohh great minds think so alike"

"so that's a real saying, thought you were lying"

"Okay let's go over the plan one more time" I tell Ciara smoothing my dress over. "So we head to this club snap some pictures even videos for evidence, and it's full proof because Jungwoo said he talked about this club lots" Ciara finishes her grand speech that almost relieves the nerve in my stomach.

"If he's not bothering y'all who's he entertaining?, The answers bound to be in there based on pattern" Ciara says grabbing the phones from her purse on the sink. "First things first take a big deep breath in, now deep breath out" she gives me the phone cradling it "and repeat" she says resuming the breathing practice with me.

"I already spotted, do you want me to show you?" Jungwoo asks each words feathering off from the other side of the door walking out I face him with "I'm completely sure" I nod more for myself than him.

Jungwoo pov:

"...Alright I'll lead....I like.. your dress, a lot" I can't help but tell her "oh thank you" she replies silence now taking over as we all collectively find him. "Let's sit here and pretend to take a pictures" Ciara says guiding us to a booth "I'll record him on mine" I join in pulling my phone out.

"Okay I think that's enough, what would you like to do now ?" Ciara asks "I think I'm gonna head for the ladies room then a drink honestly" may responds getting up I join her "I'll join you for that drink if you don't mind, but Ciara can't stay you've got work" I finish pulling Ciara up.

"Thank y'all lots, really"

"of course"

"not a problem"

May pov :

I finish blowing my nose dumping the tissues down the toilet. Opening the stall door i come face to face with the mirror and suddenly I'm now hunched over the toilet hands stabbing into my knees to stabilize myself.

Getting up I wash out my mouth and finish cleaning my hands. "I need a drink and some food" I say to myself pushing the bathroom door opens.

"that sounds good to me" turning quickly I expect to find Jungwoo but instead find an unknown male covered head to toe in black. "I didn't mean to scare thought you'd be braver mouse, you did take pictures of me after all".

"Oh that i- it's a long story really,umm"

"There you are May, what's going on ?"

"I endorse that question also"

"Well... that's something that can be explained at a diner so"

Yuta pov:

"how do you know James" the man sitting across from me says.

"I was really using him for money I think everyone does really" i say bluntly picking up some fruit, honestly everyone in the club thinks he's like a cash cow but I digress.

"so he's a serial cheater" may says making me audible gasp the pictures make sense now "damn you're with him you're too pretty, what's he giving you ?" I twist my head in confusion biting into the waffles now.

"We're married" I gasp again now choking on the waffle piece she hands me my drink "you alright?" "Yeah just wasn't thinking that" facing her she looks so unhappy.

"damn what's he doing that's got you stuck, and is there any room for me?"

"What?"

"Total pig move" she says bluntly and for a minute I think she's gonna stab me with my fork "gosh" she starts laughing "and and..I don't think I can be with a guy who eats waffles".

"their not that bad" laughing i offer her my fork that she avoids like the plague.

Jungwoo joins picking up her hand to take the fork making her laugh louder "ewww".

She looks better like this .... smiling, everyone does.

Masterlist

<- Rewind ⏪ ⏸️ ⏯️ Fast Forward ->

Thank you for reading

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frenchkisstheabyss · 18 days

Text

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will.

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in.

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out.

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him.

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder.

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do.

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot.

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on.

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail.

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.”

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since.

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened?

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.”

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

“Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.”

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you.

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go.

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being.

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret.

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.”

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.”

#nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader #nct x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #nct angst #nct smut #nct au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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calibabii21 · 5 months

Text

|| anytime, anywhere || j.jh

pairing: secret bf!Jaehyun x secret gf!reader ft pining Yuta

genre: smut. that's it, I think lol.

warning(s): public sex, voyeur Yuta, choking, dirty talk(?), creampie.

wc: 513. not too long :))

a/n: since it is officially Christmastime, I suppose I'll throw you guys a lil bone. *MDNI*

You finally spot your secret beau at SM's annual Christmas party and he looks good. So good that you end up pulling him off to a not so private corner, backing yourself onto a wall. While he’s standing in front of you, placing one hand on the wall near your head, you've already busied your hands unbuckling his belt and untucking his shirt.

He chuckles and shakes his head at you, licking his lips as he says “you want to do this right here?” To which you look him in the eyes with a nod and run your tongue over your bottom lip, seemingly in slow motion.

Your hand that snuck its way glide into his pants quickly tell you that he’s gone commando for the night. Naturally, his boldness arouses you even further so you impatiently begin stroking him- your free hand drifting beneath his turtleneck, feeling his torso and bringing him closer to you.

You plant teasing kisses on his neck and feel his shallow breaths, a soft, husky whisper meeting your ear, “I want you to take me right now.” Which has you pulling back to make eye contact as your grip tightens, now stroking him in a slow circular motion.

“Yeah? You want to go the rest of the night talking to these men- your friends who want me? Thighs slick beneath my dress? Them having no clue your cum is filling me up? ” The tortured mix of a groan and whimper he releases as he tightly gropes your ass tightly is beautiful.

His fangs on your bottom lip with a sexy grin on his face. He, now being the one to teasingly pepper your lips with featherlight kisses, nods. His eyes look at you with fresh delight when he notices you, too, decided to forego panties.

No longer patient, he guides himself into you. His hips deliver quick yet meticulously deep strokes, fingers immediately beginning to simultaneously massage your sensitive bud. “You gonna take my cum?” You can only whine softly and nod looking into his eyes “yes Jae”

You pant as he brings a grip to your throat. “Don't cum yet.” His slowed pace making his deep strokes more prominent. Your eyes wander as you press your lips together in an attempt to quiet your noises.

You're internally startled when your eyes connect with Yuta's, the blatant yearning reflected in them have you unintentionally squeezing around the man inside of you.

His tightened hold on your throat paired with the fast strokes of his hand on your pearl, you find yourself approaching a climax sooner than anticipated- which of course, does not go unnoticed by Jaehyun.

He runs his tongue across your lips and says a singular: “Now.” Then is when your orgasm is triggered by the feeling warm ropes of his seed emptying inside of you.

Coming down from our high you fix each other's clothes looking around and giggling. During your scoping of the room, you are, again, met with Yuta whose eyes are still locked on the pair of you with inflamed desire.

#z rambles #z writes✍🏾#z's odd girl tingz :p #nct smut #nct x black reader #nct jaehyun x black reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x black reader #nct 127 jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun x black reader #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun x black reader #nct yuta #nct yuta x black reader #nct 127 yuta #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta x black reader

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writemekpop · 1 year

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Confession (Part 1) | Jung Jaehyun & Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader, Yuta x Reader

Summary: Ever since you became pregnant, Jaehyun won't fuck you. You turn to Yuta for a shoulder to cry on... that becomes something more.

Genre: Husband!Jaehyun, serious angst, suggestive, borderline abusive behaviour from Jae tbh, bad boy college friend!Yuta

Word Count: 1.2k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 💋

“Jessica! Riya! No, no… Alina!”

Jaehyun shook his head, frowning. “Let’s keep thinking.”

You snuggled deeper under the covers. “But Jae, we only have three months left till the baby comes! We need to think of a name.”

“Hmm… how about Maya?” Jaehyun said.

“Maya Jung…” you paused. “I like it!”

Jaehyun placed a kiss on your forehead and shuffled back to his side of the bed. He picked up his book and started reading.

You watched Jaehyun as he became engrossed in his book. His chestnut brown hair curled handsomely over his forehead, and his biceps bulged under his T shirt. Your stomach fluttered with need.

Jaehyun hadn’t seen you naked since the pregnancy had changed your body, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You hadn’t been together in so long – you’d almost forgotten the feeling of him inside you.

You leant as close as your swollen belly would allow.

“Jaehyun, put your book down. Mama needs you…” you whispered. You trailed your fingers up his arm, over his collarbones, to his soft lips.

Jaehyun pulled your hand away. “Not now, Y/n.”

You sighed. “Come on, baby…” “I said not now,” he snapped.

“You’re never in the mood anymore!” you returned.

Without even looking up from his book, Jaehyun muttered, “Can you fucking understand English? Not. Now.”

Frustration bubbling up, you snatched the book from his hands and chucked it onto the floor.

Jaehyun frowned, but before he could say anything, you smashed your lips onto his and kissed him.

You shuffled closer, and pulled your night dress over your head. The cold air made your nipples stand up.

Jaehyun’s eyes raked over your naked body… and a light shudder of disgust ran through him.

Before your pregnancy, Jaehyun would look at you like you were the Mona Lisa. Everything had changed.

You followed his eyes to a maze of stretch marks that started on your hip and went up to your swollen belly.

“I’m like a tiger,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Jaehyun gave you a tight smile.

You crossed your arms. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

Jaehyun blinked. “If we have to do this… can we turn off the lights first?”

You frowned, but turned off the lamp anyway.

You pushed the niggling feeling of dread in your stomach down and curled your arms around Jaehyun’s shoulder. Then you kissed him, hard.

You felt Jaehyun’s hands skirt tentatively over your tummy. Disappointingly, he didn’t move his hands any lower.

Jaehyun stayed stiff, unmoving, barely kissing you back.

You were beginning to get impatient. You reached into his lap and slipped your hands inside his boxers. To your surprise, he was completely soft.

You struggled to hide your gasp.

In the ten years you’ve been with Jaehyun – four years of college and six years as husband and wife – he’d never been unable to get an erection.

“Is something… wrong?”

Jaehyun sighed. He moved you off his lap and switched on the light.

“I just can’t get into it. None of the pregnancy books said you’d get all-“

“All what?” you snapped.

Jaehyun bit his lip. “All… bulgy.”

You pulled the sheet over your body, cheeks burning.

Jaehyun wiped the sweat off his brow. “Can we try tomorrow night?”

“We have Yuta’s party,” you mumbled.

“Oh yeah,” Jaehyun said, shifting onto his side. “Well… good night.”

You sniffed. “Night.”

---

The next evening, you and Jaehyun went to Yuta’s house for his annual barbeque, a tradition he’d had since your college days.

Yuta pulled the door open, smirking. His hair was jet black and spiky, and he had a beer in his hand.

“It’s my two favourite people! Get inside!”

Yuta greeted Jaehyun with a fist-bump-come-hug.

When he saw you, his eyes lit up.

Yuta kissed your cheek. “Long time no see, Y/n. Pregnancy suits you.”

You felt a shiver of delight at his comment. But it was quickly squashed when you remembered what Jaehyun said to you last night.

Yuta punched Jaehyun on the shoulder, grinning. “Can’t believe you knocked this one up… you always did have a crush on her, ever since that first lecture.”

Your memories of that time were rose-tinted, like the colour of Jaehyun’s ears when he asked you out a week after college started.

You pushed through the room, which was crowded with people from college, desperate to use the bathroom.

You made it just in time, sighing with relief as you emptied your bladder.

As you were getting up to leave, you heard a voice.

You froze.

The voice was coming from outside the bathroom door.

“Don’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

It was Jaehyun’s baritone.

“Yeah, man. What’s up?” The other voice had a lilting Japanese accent. Yuta.

“It’s about Y/n.” Jaehyun said. “We’re having some… problems.”

You pressed your ear to the door, heartbeat quickening.

“Nah, it’s nothing man,” Jaehyun said. “I’m just stressed about the baby.”

You sighed in relief. Obviously, Jaehyun wouldn’t complain about your sex problems with someone else! He was a gentleman.

“Are you sure?” Yuta said.

Jaehyun replied, “Well… don’t get me wrong, I love Y/n but – I’m not… attracted to her anymore. She’s so… huge.”

You stifled a gasp.

“Damn, Jae.” Yuta said, chuckling. “Pregnant chicks not your thing?”

“It’s not just the fact that she’s fat. Her skin’s all marked up, and her tits are so saggy. I just can’t… bring myself to have sex with her.”

You felt like the ground had caved in, and you were falling.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Yuta said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Have you tried… talking to her?”

“Man, she’s so eager to get in my pants, I can’t get a word in. Honestly, it’s a turn off to see her so… desperate.”

Your head started to spin and you staggered backwards. Your hand caught the sink just in time, but you knocked soap dish, sending it clattering onto the floor.

“Who’s in there?” Jaehyun yelled.

A fist banged on the door. You saw the bathroom doorknob rattle, and your heart pounded.

Your voice was thick with tears. “It’s me.”

The banging on the door stopped. “Y/n? How long have you – been there?” Jaehyun’s voice rose with each word.

You pulled the door open. Yuta and Jaehyun were staring at you. Yuta shifted awkwardly and Jaehyun looked deathly pale.

to be continued...

—

PART 2 HERE

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thesafecafe · 1 year

Text

NCT 127: Helping their Black GF on wash day

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to help you out on wash day, and you let him, but not without some interesting adventures along the way!

CW: None really, sfw, fluff, specifically black fem reader, aspects of black hair, gifs not mine hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a reflection of the idol or their behavior in real life, this is simply a fictional depiction for entertainment purposes.

Taeil:

The most nervous out of everyone when you offer

he puts on a brave face, genuinely wanting to help you out

but on the inside, he is panicking, because what if he messes up your hair?

you pick up on his mood though, and gently guide him through the process

you have him make a list of all your steps, and tell him to check off the steps and products you go through

“I can do that!”

takes his position in the bathroom rather seriously, keeping the younger members out if they start to interfere

“Use another bathroom Haechan! This is occupied!”

looks rather silly, standing there with his notebook, and furiously jotting down all that you do

he operates your playlist as well, and even notes down the songs!

he’s great for moral support the first time around, and if you need help next time, he’s more than ready to step in more

he’s got his notes to guide him!

Johnny:

Johnny is no stranger to seeing you do your hair

he often watches as you do your hair, a quiet type curiosity in his eyes

when you ask him to help, he’s a little incredulous at first

“You want me to help?”

but his brief moment of uncertainty is hidden instantly by fake confidence

“Of course babe, I got this! It’s me we’re talking about!”

spoiler: he does not have this

he struggles getting the brush through your head, and detangling? a catastrophe

he’s good at distributing the shampoo and conditioner, but then you’re on your own girl

blow drying is fairly easy, since all he does is hold the dryer where you tell him, and helping you choose a style

if you want help styling it? Girl, you better call the father, the son, and the holy spirit

your hair manages to get done eventually; it might look a little odd, but it’s done

“See babe, I told you I got this!”

Taeyong

curious little bean about your hair

is hesitant at first, as he doesn’t want to mess up your hair or hurt you

“Are you sure babe? You trust me that much?”

when you reassure him that you indeed do trust him with your beautiful hair, he’ll get all smiley

asks you for step by step instructions, and is so so gentle

even when helping you put in products for washing or drying your hair feels like a full on scalp massage

which you compliment him on

“Ah, you like it? I’ll remember babe!”

the more you compliment him, the more he’ll melt, just falling in love with you harder at each remark

some steps have you helping him out, such as combing out your hair and blow drying

which he’ll insist he can do if he just watches a tutorial (he wants to be able to do it for you on his own)

but as he helps you do a simple style, he sees it as a bonding experience

“Let’s do this again next time babe!”

Yuta:

Another curious one, but he is in awe of everything about the process

“This much product?! Really?”

you teach him the products, and he commits each one to memory

genuinely curious about a few of the oils and conditioners

“Do you think it’ll work for me? They smell really good!”

he steps in when your arms start to get tired, and you need help twisting it for pre parting

he realizes that you have to do this every time you wash your hair and his heart goes out to you

“Let me help again next time, it’s so much for one person to do all alone!”

he’s very sweet, taking breaks when you need, and gets you snacks, water, arms rubs, whatever you need

such a supportive boyfriend and wonderful listener

he’ll listen attentively as you instruct him on how to braid your hair, before the both of you jointly braid your hair into pretty box braids

“These are so good babe! You think I could get paid to do it?”

(as if he’s not a full time celebrity) but you tell him yes anyway

nothing wrong with a confidence boost

Doyoung:

Intimidated off the bat

you have a LOT of hair, and Doyoung knows so LITTLE about it

will whine a little bit before he settles into the idea

“Babe, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a hair dresser, hence my job choice.”

but when you say you’ll ask someone else, he protests immediately

pulls you back into the bathroom with a pout on his face

“You can’t ask them! They don’t know anything!”

you spare him of the fact that neither does he, but you allow him to help

he kind of observes first, allowing you to demonstrate

when you offer him a brush or a comb, he takes the, slowly following along with your steps

your soft encouragement helps him to keep going, even earning you a smile

“I guess it’s not so hard after all! Your hair is really pretty by the way”

it’s not his first time telling you that, since he loves your hair, but it still makes you shy

he follows your instructions completely, allowing you to guide his hands when he forgets a step

when you are eventually finished, Doyoung will observe your hair in the mirror, slowly turning your head side to side in his hands

“I really did that! We did it!”

he’s cheering and happy, and he’ll be way more open to helping you next time, because practice makes perfect

Jungwoo:

“You trust me? Ah, such a confident girl”

a real jokester (but it’s to keep his nervousness at bay)

he’s praying he doesn’t rip any hair out

he uses a bit more than the recommended amount

aka he squeezed the bottle too hard and now your hair is saturated in shampoo

but a little extra product never hurt anybody!

he’ll have you bent over the sink, pouring water over the back of your hair with a giant bowl

Jungwoo, you don’t need to drown your client, come on now

he nearly knocks you of the chair during blow drying, but it is unintentional, (unlike some members)

it’s a bit of a bumpy ride when it comes to combing out and detangling, but you get through it

“All right, what’s next?”

he’ll think he’s a professional once you have him help you part and section your hair, massaging in your usual products

he watches in fascination as you style your hair, a curious awe present in his facial expressions

“You really are amazing babe.”

Mark:

why you decided to ask for help from Mark is a mystery

“Yo, really? Are you sure? Dude, that’s like, huge!”

is grateful for the opportunity, but please help him

he does not know what he’s doing, and this is more of a tutorial than him helping

he’ll help by handing you different products, but he mostly asks questions about different things

“You have two conditioners? Wait why?”

you explain everything with patience, telling him what it does for your hair, and what works for your hair type

“So your hair is a mixture of two different patterns? Ahh, that explains so much!

he recognizes a few things that you have, like coconut and jojoba oil

but the purpose of leave in conditioner escapes him until you explain

it really is an interesting experience with Mark, especially when you mix together different products together

his mind is blown

“Yo, you’re Y/N the scientist! Who else mixes things like that?”

He’ll help you trim your hair after you give yourself a silk press, admiring the way it looks, telling you how good you look

Haechan:

Oh, he is an excited boy

very, very excited, he has been waiting for this day to come

you never let anyone touch your hair, not even him, and now you want his help? best day ever

he’ll tease you though, telling you he’ll charge you for his services

“These professional hands come with a price babe” (such a menace)

he will use your product bottles as weapons of mass...hair destruction?

“I will conquer and vanquish the dragon!” he says while threateningly pointing a shampoo bottle at your head

the hair is not our enemy, put down the bottle sir

he is genuinely happy as he washes your hair, blow drying and oiling it after with no problem

(aside form him trying to knock you off the chair on purpose)

he helps you to do a roller set, which intrigues him

“Oh, so you have a dryer chair in the corner! I never noticed that was there!”

He will offer to help you get ready for bed after as well

massaging your scalp and making sure you have good circulation before bed

he will demand matching bonnets once he sees yours though, so be prepared to share

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andysorbit · 10 months

Text

Farmer!Yuta brain rot

kinda nsfw fluff w/smut

hates cutting his hair

very much a simple man who loves lying out in the fields with his head in your lap while you braid daisies into his hair

sells strawberries but saves the prettiest ones for you

has a goat that he would absolutely die for

has a special spot in the corner of the upper level of his barnhouse where he prettied it up so he can bring you up there to fuck for hours

always down to have dinner picnics over on the hill behind your farm when the weather is nice

will proceed to eat you out on said hill while you look up at the stars

then will proceed to fuck you from behind in said feel because there's something about fucking you doggy style in the glory that is nature

there's also something about laying you down in the grass and pounding you into the earth beneath you that makes him feral

loves moaning and whining in your ear

420 friendly Farmer who grows the Marijuana you put in your edibles

loves fucking you out on your bedroom balcony when it's harvest moon

also loves fucking you out in a field during harvest moon

has probably fucked you against every tree on his property

heavily encourages your use of farmer's dresses so he can just lift your dress and have his way with you anytime he wants

always thanks you for having dinner ready for him when he comes in after a long day

doesn't go to church with the rest of the farmer families nearby but always bakes with you and sends them something to enjoy

handy man who's lowkey turned on every time you brag about how good he is with his hands

handsy man too

will finger you on the porch swing

lowkey doesn't shut up about you

"my wife dressed this basket. isn't it pretty?"

made a deal with the kids in the area that if they behave themselves and do well in school that they can share your strawberry surplus

gives the local teens summer jobs and actually pays them

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rrxnjun · 8 months

Text

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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