#yuta nct angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frenchkisstheabyss · 14 days

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♥︎ ₵₳₦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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pipsqueak1507 · 1 year

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Yuta is judging you

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p4p1l0nn · 5 months

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crimson tears.

pairing: ex!jaemin x reader

genre: drama, angst, romance (second chance romance, betrayal, humiliation)

in the quiet corners of your world, where the weight of missed opportunities lingers, every day unfolds as a haunting reminder of what once was. in the echo of each passing minute and the silence of every hour, the ache of longing for jaemin becomes your constant companion.

memories of shared laughter and stolen glances linger, casting shadows on the canvas of your thoughts. you navigate a world colored by the absence of his touch, a world where the void left by his departure becomes an indelible mark on your soul.

the air is thick with the bittersweet scent of memories as you yearn for a second chance, a chance to rewrite the script of your love story with him, desperate to escape the confines of a past that holds you captive in the echoes of what could have been.

in your lonely nights, your bed felt empty, missing the warmth he once brought. his laughter echoed in your room, making the silence in your chest even louder. sleep, once a comfort, turned into a battle where dreams showed what you lost. tears stained your pillow, telling the tale of an ache that wouldn't go away. each new day without him was like a punch, and the pillow became your confidante.

with the seasons changing, your feelings changed too. spring's colorful flowers only highlighted the dullness of your life without him. summer's warmth couldn't melt the icy pain around you. autumn came, showing that even vibrant leaves fall, just like you fell deeper into a love that slipped away. winter brought a cold reminder of the frostiness between you and the world. festive lights outside mocked the hope in your heart, dancing to a sad tune.

your mind replayed the painful conversation with jaemin, each word a searing brand on your heart. as you summoned the memory, the wound reopened, and the ache intensified.

jaemin's once-familiar voice turned venomous, the words cutting through the air like shards of glass. “a second chance?” he scoffed, the bitterness dripping from every syllable. “you really have the audacity to ask for that after what you did?”

his friends, haechan and jeno, tried to restrain him, but the words poured forth like a relentless storm. “you think i'd give you another chance? you're delusional, living in some fantasy where your mistakes don't matter. well, guess what? they do.”

you felt the weight of his anger, and it hit you like a brick. “do you even realize how humiliated i am to be standing here, begging for something you don't think i deserve? i never expected you to forgive easily, but this . . .”

his eyes, once warm, now held a coldness that sent shivers down your spine.

“i thought we meant more to each other. i thought our history counted for something,” you pleaded, desperation clinging to your voice. but jaemin's retort was like a slap in the face, stinging with a cruelty you never anticipated. “history? all it does is remind me of how foolish i was to trust you in the first place.”

haechan and jeno intervened, trying to quell the verbal assault, but the damage was done. the words reverberated in your mind, a painful mantra of rejection. “don't bother. you're not worth the second chance you're asking for.”

his eyes bore into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. the weight of his hatred lingered, and you were left standing there, the remnants of shattered hope scattered at your feet. the humiliation cut deep, a wound that no amount of pleading could heal.

the sting of betrayal cut deeper as the realization unfolded — jaemin had orchestrated the meeting with malicious intent. he lured you with sweet words, concealing the venom that awaited. the pain of humiliation gnawed at your core, leaving you raw and exposed.

as the truth settled in, jaemin's deceit played like a cruel melody in your mind. “i just wanted to talk,” he had said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “i thought we could find some closure.”

yet, his intentions were far from closure. in that orchestrated encounter, his words became daggers, each one aimed to wound. “closure?” he sneered, the facade crumbling to reveal the deception. “i wanted to see the desperation in your eyes, watch you beg for something you can never have.”

the revelation hit you like a tidal wave, the emotional wreckage leaving you breathless. “you tricked me,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of betrayal.

jaemin's triumphant grin confirmed your realization. “you played the part perfectly. falling for it was your mistake, not mine.”

the scene unfolded like a cruel play, and the script had been written with your pain in mind. as jaemin and his friends walked away, laughter echoing behind them, the sense of betrayal settled in your chest like a lead weight.

the wound inflicted wasn't just from lost love; it was a mark of a trust shattered, a heartbroken by a deliberate act of cruelty.

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imma-queencard · 10 months

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Who owns you?(part one!)

Pairings: Mafia N.Yuta x female Reader!

→warnings: Humiliation,degradation, Slut shaming, slight violence, Ragging & suggestive.

→characters: N.Yuta(Suzaki Ryo),Reader,Kohei,Tsukasa(Oya High) and others.

→taggings: @sashe-xhelse-blog @elviinwonderland @iraa567 @nuttie-nv-blog @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @seventhcallisto others whom I couldn’t tag as tumblr hid their acc from mentioning!(sorry!)

P.s: This is based on his role Suzaki Ryo played on High and low the worst X. A quick easy summery. There he played as the right hand of Kohei,the current leader of Senomon high school. Suzaki Ryo,ex leader of Nami high and a third year student who got shifted then into Senomon high school and made everyone obeyed Kohei as their leader. The said to be the puppet of Kohei Amagai.

You always hated Kohei,the current leader of Senomon high. He was such a leader who couldn’t even have his own grip on all the gangs running around in Senomon. He was nothing without his right hand,Nakamoto Yuta. No,the puppet. You hated both. Specially the latter. Why on earth would you let a person commanding you as if you were his slave when you,yourself was far more capable than he already was.

Everyone feared him, the Nakamoto Yuta. The fear of him made people obey Kohei. He was always standing like a shield around Kohei. These two hot yet cold men. Specially Nakamoto Yuta. But it was none of your concern. You were just a first year fresher in Senomon high while residing in a devastated alley of Senomon. You had no time crushing over him like your classmates,friends,neighbours or other girls. You had a younger spoiled brother and a sick grandma at home to worry about. Two mouths to feed alongside yours.

You rolled your eyes seeing Kohei with his puppet, Nakamoto walking their way towards the main gate. You cringed at the sight.

You still remember the very first day of your first year here at Senomon High. All of you were forced to line up in front of this mafia group on the rooftop of this campus. All of you were shaking in fear. All heads down. Kohei stopped in front of you,checking you from head to toe just like he did to the previous girls.

He grabbed your wrist to pull you forward. "What about this chick Nakamoto?Do you like this one?" He asked looking at his friend.

You tried to pull out your wrist out of his grip,"What are you doing! Let go!" Only making Kohei tightening his grip. You winched in pain gritting your teeth at him.

"Wow,this chick speaks, Nakamoto!"

You cried out as he twisted the wrist,"ple-please it hurts! I'm-i'm sorry" You pleaded thinking you might have angered the leader by speaking up. You should have just shut your mouth like the other girls who were slutshamed before you.

"Previous one seemed a slut. You want this one? Or the previous? I dont think you like leftovers,dude" Your ears turned red in embarrassment.

"Or maybe you like leftovers? But you can slut this up behind the close doors,huh? That's more fun!" he laughed. You bit your lip in order to suppress your tears falling out. None ever talked to you like this.

"You're not going to go whoring around like your classmates,bitch?" you flinched in fear. He grabbed your chin making you look at him,

"Will you be a good slut for my friend?" you shut your eyes in anger & embarrassment. You didn't even dare to look at the man named Nakamoto as you already felthim staring at you. Penetrating you down with his stare as if claiming his thing with his own eyes.

"Answer me,slut!"

"ye-yess"

You scoffed hearing two girls whispering to "Nakamoto is so hot!" You looked at the person. He looks the same. Handsome. Just like the first day. Red suited him. Everything suited him..

You were kind of glad that he didn't utter a single word during and after that day. But you always felt a stare haunting you whenever he would pass by. Maybe this was just a delusion of yours. Maybe you were so traumatised with the event that your mind kept making scenarios about this. You looked at the group in awe.

Yeah,It was your chance to confirm your delusion for real.

Your fingers nervously reaching the white silver necklace around your neck when your eyes opted up to look at him. You saw him paused in his track. Few feets away from you. Staring directly into your eyes. You gulped down when he didn't even move his eyes when he got caught red handed. You didn't how long you stared into his cold eyes before looking down in embarrassment. You huffed when he resumed to follow Kohei inside the campus giving you one final look.

This was not your delusion. You were mind was not making up things.

He had his stare for you.

You dropped your pen on the table. Life was already hard. And these studies were making it harder. But at last you finished your studies for today. You felt sleepy. You looked at the wall clock.

2.00 am. Time to sleep.

You tidied your night dress and yawned. You looked at the open windows of your room. You decided to close them before you plopped yourself on the bed. You got up to shut the windows. You reached out to your window but your hand froze. You gasped out loud. Your eyes fixated on the person across the road. What the hell!

Nakamoto Yuta.. standing there.

Leaning against the lamp post opposite to your house. His eyes towards your room. Your fingers instinctively pulling down the hem of your night dress that was already covering you enough. You rushed out downstairs wrapping up a shawl against your upper body to make it more civilised.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" you asked almost whispering while marching towards him. His eyes observed every single of your moves.

"You-you just can't stand here at midnight! I-I live in a society and have reputation to worry unlike you..and-and there are some unannounced rul-" you paused when he just lazily looked away as if you were stuttering some boring lectures.

"Nakamoto.. There. are. some. rules. You just can't stand in front of a-in front of a marriageable woman's house at such hours!" You hissed out looking around. Afraid of any of your neighbour watching you in this situation. Then spreading rumors about you. This side of Senomon was far away from the so called western progression.

You did care about your reputation. Your grandma's reputation. You didn't want to get involved in rumors. Specially with the man standing in front of you.

He tilted his head towards you this time. "Then why you as a marriageable woman just in a night dress standing in front of a profitable bachelor like me in such late hours,huh? Does it count. .."

he trailed taking a step towards you," does it count in the unannounced rules of your society where you live in Y/N?" he spoke huskily looking at you. Your cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

" You-jus-just leave.." You muttered under your breath and rushed inside your house locking the door behind.You let your body leaned against the wooden door. This was the first time this man had ever spoke to you and gave you second hand embarrassment on spot.

You ran in front of the mirror of your room to check your attire. You furrowed looking at your reflection. Your satin night dress reaching below your knee and the shawl covering your blossom perfectly. Though your hair was messy, you looked appropriate.

The audacity of this man!

You walked up to the window slowly to check if he was still standing there. You peeped behind the curtain. He was now leaning his back against the lamp post more while brushing his hair off his forehead. His eyes met your curious ones which were glistening behind the white curtains. You grunted as you got caught.His lips curved upwards in satisfaction when you shut the window with a thump on his face.

A cocky bastard.

It had been hell of two weeks since the Nakamoto Yuta stood in front of your house. This was the first time and hopefully the last time also. He left that night after some time but also snatched your sleeps with him.

"What does he think of himself!" You murmured recalling the event while wiping the counter with the mop. You still couldn’t believe that man had the audacity to say something unwarranted and unwanted thing on your face. In front of your house.

"You still thinking about that red suited hot guy?" the old woman,the owner of the cafe you worked asked sitting on the cash table.

"It's just that.. Had some bad experience with that group and can't tolerate them" You said putting the mop behind the counter. You had been ragged by them. Why would you like them? And who liked them anyway? The old woman was about to say something when the bell chirped in.

You were about to welcome the guest with a smile. You furrowed,"tsukasa?" The blonde handsome man walked up to the counter with a smile,"Hey Y/N..um.." he looked at the menu card and continued, "I'd like to order two cappuccino.. Mind me join there?" he asked out pointing a table in the middle. You looked at your owner for her approval as you were in the middle of your shift.

He saw your hesitation so quickly added," Of course,I'm paying for both and in double..if you excuse her for a moment.." the old woman's eyes beamed hearing the word 'double'.

You were both happy and confused seeing Tsukasa here. You met him last spring at Oya High when you went to a hospital there for your grandma's surgery. He happened to be the right hand and best friend of Fujio,the leader of Oya High. The most powerful house and region. He was so helpful despite his position. He was kind and sweet. Always lending a hand whenever you needed one. That was how your friendship bloomed on a spring day.

"So why are you suddenly out of your cave of Oya high,hm?" You asked putting the two mugs on the table and took your seat across him.

"Things are obviously different now.." he replied taking his mug with a quick 'thanks'.

"I'm actually shocked seeing you here. No offense!" You tried to joke out,eased out yourself.

He smiled," It's just I was passing so decided to stop by.. By the way yo-" you cut him off. You pointed the scar on his forehead, "You again caught into new fight?"

He touched the scar and laughed out casually,"Oh!That? Old fight.. Your senomon pride Nakamoto's doings. He is better than we thought."

Suddenly the bell chirped in again and you both saw Kohei followed by Nakamoto and three other men entering the cafe. Nakamoto's eyes instantly found his way towards you and tsukasa. His gaze stiffened. You cautiously saw them shooing around customers off a table on centre. Cursing them aloud. Then occupying the table as if it was their own from the beginning. You sighed.

That was so of them.

"Are you gonna stop whoring around and take our orders,bitch?" You heard kohei screamed suddenly. You felt tsukasa tensed. You were quick to grab his hand and mumble a 'please?' You didn’t want you and your friend to get insulted in front of all the customers.

You walked up to them holding the notepad tight to your chest. "Your orders?"

"Orders? We thought you were busy whoring around with guys from different regions. Are you done sleeping with all the men from Senomon?" Kohei asked clicking his tongue. You looked around to find the customers gossiping. Some of them are even pointing at you.

You bit the inside of your cheeks,"wha-what would you like to order sir?"

"Regular!" one of the men replied and threw a menu card at you. You nodded and literally rushed to the counter. You decided to stand there until their order arrived. So,you were now a whore.

A whore.

None even objected. So many people but none stood for you. Whom do you even expect to object anyway?

"How long would it take,huh?" one of them asked clapping and whistling.

"Everything takes time,kids." your owner replied pushing up her glass. Not bothered about this situation as she was already used to this.

"Or your chef's also whoring around just like your order?" Another shouted making the whole cafe bursted out laughing. You felt Tsukasa's eyes on you. You forced him a smile. Your eyes wandered at the said group. It's just so easy to insult people here and there for them.. Your eyes glanced at Nakamoto who's jaw was tightened. And his hand grabbing the glass so tight that you feared it might break. His eyes fixed on Tsukasa's back.

This looks bad..

Suddenly a tray arrived at the counter. "Serve this to the couple sitting on table 4." your owner ordered. You nodded.

You took a deep breath and walked to the desired table which was past their table. You almost screamed out when Kohei stepped in front of you out of nowhere. "You fuvking serving every single person of this damn cafe except us! WHO FUVKING OWNS THE SENOMON!? " He screamed. You flinched and didnt know that you were backing from him steps by steps.

"I FUCKING OWN THE WHOLE SENOMON AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON IS GETTING THEIR ORDERS BEFORE US!" one of his men screamed adding fuel to Kohei's anger.

"It-it's coming.." you stuttered closing your eyes..gripping the tray harder in fear.

"You Don't understand, do you? I FUVKING OWN THE WHOLE SENOMON!I OWN THIS CAFE,I OWN YOU AND ALL THOSE SLUTS OUT THERE!I will fuvkinh crush that whole place!" He screamed at top of his lungs and pushed the tray out of your hand. You closed your eyes in humiliation when all the foods scattered all over you. The cafe just became pin dropped silent.

"You fuvking have to pay for this you old witch!" he gritted his teeth pointing his finger at your owner. He pushed you with his shoulder while cursing the old lady. You were already so shaken up to the situation that your leg tripped into the chair behind you as his large frame pushed you,you fell onto the floor on your knees. You cried out in pain. You looked back to see Kohei and his goons threatening your owner before leaving the cafe with some kicks on the door.

You looked at the mess on the floor. You grabbed the tray and started putting the leftovers on it. Why did you have to live in Senomon out of all those places? Couldn't it be Oya High?

Your eyes teared up feeling all the eyes on your helpless frame. You bit your lips when you saw a pair of leather shoe stepped in front of you. You looked up to see Nakamoto Yuta towering you with his long frame. Your eyes found his. You didnt know why you even searched empathy in his eyes. But found none to your dismay. Rather he just kept staring at you with his infamous expressionless eyes while putting his hand into his pocket. As if nothing had happened. As if it was the most regular thing you could see in a cafe. You looked away in disgust.

You started putting the foods on the tray. Did he have more insults to come in your way? Then you saw the leftovers near his right shoe. You scooted but paused expecting him to move aside for creating space for you. But he just started tapping the floor with his right heel feeling your eyes on his shoes.

Your eyes teared up in humiliation. You were literally hovering over his shoes and all he did was tapping the floor rhythmically! You could hear some customers talking shits and whistling at you. That was some jokes to them.

Tsukasa rushed towards you,"Y/N are you alright?" Before you could open your mouth to say it was alright, Nakamoto grabbed Tsuaksa's shoulder to stop him reaching you. Then pulled the blonde towards him by his collar.

"Tsukasa..long time no see.." he said clicking his tongue. Tsukasa just scoffed and was about to say something harsh when Nakamoto beat him on that.

"Do your charity in Oya High not here. Don't make me repeat. Leave." Nakamoto breathed out tracing the scar on Tsukasa's face which he had painted a month ago. Last thing you wanted right now was to get your friend involved into internal feuds of Senomon.

You looked at your friend with pleading eyes. He huffed," I will wait for you outside" The blonde spoke and left before sparing a long glance at the red suited guy.

You sighed in relief when Tsukasa left. But your relief didn’t last long when you heard a customer shouted,"Pick up the food slut. You deserved it!"

You looked pathetic and they enjoyed looking a person like this. That was how they live here after all.

You gave your last look at his shoe hovering over it. But he didn't move just kept staring at you. You sighed. What did you even expect from him? Move aside? At least that was how a human treated another out of courtesy. Did you really deserve this? In front of all the customers?

You took a deep breath. That was your job. There was nothing wrong with that. You kept repeating to yourself and extended your fingers to grab the food. His right shoe kicked the food away in a second when you were about to pick it up. Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes shot towards him in disbelief when you heard him,

"He doesn’t own you. I do"

You were speechless already. Your eyes shot widen when he bend down to your level. He tilted his head to the left and licked his lower lip,

"If you want to whore around babe,don't go seeking help in different regions. You know where to find me."

Your ears turned red in embarrassment hearing his words. And the boos from the customers worsened the situation. You looked away angrily. You had enough. Was it that easy to call you whore here and there. You stood up angrily holding the tray. You put the tray on the nearest table with a thump as he also stood up fixing his red jacket.

"I don't manwhore like you and your fucking leader! I'm anything but a whore,you motherfucker manwhore!" You screamed in one go shaking terribly in anger and didnt waste a minute to walk towards the counter. Making the whole cafe silent than ever had.

You heard him chuckle,". You are my whore butterfly the way I can be yours"

You looked back speechless. Was that man flirting with you in front of all the people? Or insulting you or insulting himself? You were paranoid now. Your eyes wander around to see some customers' eyes went wide just like yours.

If you were shock then,now you wanted the whole earth to swallow you up when he started walking towards you. Unbuttoning his red jacket slowly. Exposing his black v neck shirt showing underneath which was giving glimpse of his pale chest. His few hair strands falling on his wide forehead and the way his lips curved into a smirk... You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"That's fuckinh-public indecency!" You heard a teenage girl exclaimed oggling at his physiques shamelessly.

You took few steps backwards hitting the counter. He stopped few inches before you smirking. He just caged you between him and that damn marble counter. You closed your eyes in embarrassment when he lowered his face to match yours. His lips moved to your right earlobe. His hot breath on your face. You could even smell his cologne from there.

You blushed wild when his lips brushed against your earlobe. You swore your breath got hitched. Your fingers gripped the hem of your dress tight with closed eyes. Praying to God to save yourself from this sinful man. Your heart thumping out loud. Fearing it might bursted out inside your ribcage. He chuckled huskily seeing his effects on you. Then he whispered against your earlobe,

"That's how you rebel,sweetheart.. On your own. but I,Nakamoto Yuta,Do own you."

Author note: Hi! I dont know if it matches up your wait but thanks for reading this whole thing!<3 tumblr deleted my draft a week ago so it took me enough time to write this up again. I was really satisfied with the deleted draft sadly! :3 if you have any idea to share,please reach out to me. I'd love to hear them out and write them up.

There were others too who asked to be in taglist.. I tried mentioning them on top but couldn't add them as the app might be hiding some user names(maybe?). Thanks for asking and supporting though!❤️

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aikoionic · 6 months

Text

I WANNA GROW UP ONCE AGAIN [ L.MK ] : TEASER!

yes it’s based loosely (heavily) on 3 idiots 👽

★彡 In college, you and mark form a strange relationship. (you think) he hates you for competing with him for being the smartest in class, while you’re just trying to get a your degree so your parents don’t marry you off to another rich families son. Years later, an old bet gives you and his two friends a chance to look for your long-lost acquaintance, who’s existence is rather elusive.

engineering major!mark lee x engineering major!reader (fem)

★彡 academic rivals, where tf did mark go after college, readers gettin married, johnny stops a plane, haechan forgets his pants, yuta is annoying, mark is gone. reader is the college headmasters daughter sorry if it isn’t obviously lol

「September 5th, Present Day, Johnny. 」 - You attack my heart, you attack my heart!

“in any case of an emergency landing, there are marked exits on either side of the plane.”

it’s days like these that johnny is reminded of how much his job absolutely sucks. it wasn’t his phobia of planes or the fact that he is thousands of feet up in the air and anything could go wrong at any time, it was the fact that he couldn’t keep any friend/relationships going as he was expected in a new country or city every week. the only thing that’s funded is the plane ride, not his entertainment, and the book infront of his face is no longer a story but instead just a bunch of letters on a page.

he often daydreams about what his life could’ve been like, you know, if he stayed with engineering and didn’t follow his passion of photography. he often thinks about college and all the great memories, along with the bad ones, he often thinks about his old friends. he often thinks about mark. mark was a strange, but a once-in-a-lifetime kind of friend, he always talked about the future and how he would love to go fishing every weekend when everybody was well in their forties. johnny feels stupid for believing that mark was right, that everyone was gonna stay friends forever. he recalls the last time he saw him, graduation. everyone was ecstatic that it was finally over, all the exams, all the stress. exactly one week after he was on a video call with haechan, complaining that mark wasn’t answering his phone. it was another week after that the messages stopped going through, and it was another month before he gave up all hope of ever seeing mark lee again.

“we kindly ask that all passengers put phones and laptops on airplane mode for the duration of this flight to new york, we wish everyone happy trave-“ , johnny feels the vibration of his phone through his pocket and the deafening ringtone follows immediately after. he bought this phone three years ago and still doesn’t know how to turn down that damn ringtone. he smiles apologetically at his neighbouring passenger as they grumpily twist and turn to get comfy again after being awaken.

“hello?”

…

“yeah, this is johnny..”

…

his face drops.

“sir, can you please put the phone away.”

“yeah, yeah, one second, please.”

he looks around frantically, he needs to get off this plane, and it’s not because he’s scared. he hastily unbuckles his seatbelt, he needs to get off this plane. he stands up quickly and wobbles, it’s about to take off.

“sir, please sit down, you could get hurt!” the flight attendant yells at him to be heard over the horribly loud plane engine.

“i-i..” he grasps his chest, trembling as if he’s in pain. all the nearby passengers shoot worried looks at the airline staff.

“i don’t- i nee-“, the plane jolts aggressively and he stumble to the ground, grip still tight on his chest.

an attendant reaches up from her seat to grab the phone next to her.

“captain, there’s is a medical emergency on board, you must stop the plane.”

johnny is slumped over in a wheelchair as two members of staff and an on-hand doctor rush through the terminal to get him to the hospital, he looks dead, i mean he hasn’t replied to the staff screaming in his ear to wake up. johnny slowly opens up one of his eyes, his plan worked! he’s off the plane! but how the hell was he supposed to convince the staff he’s fine and is just gonna go look for a taxi to take him home. maybe if he tells them all he needs is some rest? REST? YOU JUST FAKED A HEART ATTACK AND YOU THINK THEY’RE GONNA BELIEVE ALL YOU NEED IS REST?? johnny stops scolding himself and gets to thinking of another plan.

“wait!” suddenly, he jumps up from the wheelchair and puts his hands out to stop them. he breathes deeply a couple times, does a few jumping jacks. what is he trying to prove with this whole performance?

“i’m completely fine now! thank you! you guys carry on, i’ll handle myself from here!”

“sir, wait a minute, you’ve just had a heart atta-“

he ran.

he ran all the way down two escalators, three sets of stairs and out the main entrance. what a shit plan. now he just needs to get home, wait.., he feels around his pockets, where the fuck is his wallet? is he supposed to walk home or something? maybe he should’ve just stayed on the damn plane.

he sees a sign held up by one of the drivers sent for important businessmen, or rich kids who study abroad and get their parents to send them a driver when they come on their annual trip back home, mr. zhong chenle.

“heyy man, long time no see! where’s the car at? i’m super tired!”

“uhh… mr. zhong? is that you?”

“yeah! why, do i look different or something?”

“a lot taller than i remember..”

“growth spurt. now, where’s the car?”

“straight home, sir?” the driver asks after approximately 7 minutes of uninterrupted silence.

“yeah, but go through the downtown first, wanna see it all again, ya know.”

“whatever you say, sir.” the driver sighs, he must’ve never looked at the kids face if he thinks johnny looks anything remotely like a college student anymore. johnny picks up his phone and dials a number he’s dialled about a thousand times.

incoming call, johnny, 12:08pm.

the noise of ruffling bed sheet and pillows fills the room, and a hand groggily slaps the desk to look for their phone without using their eyes.

call accepted

“yeah, johnny, what do you want.” he says while stretching. haechan doesn’t do much on his off days but sleep in until one and play video games. he knows that as soon as he leaves his room his mother is going to give him about fifteen things to do, so he decides to just lock himself up in his room for the weekend.

“get ready in five minutes, i’m coming to pick you up.”

“why, what happened.” there was nothing johnny could say to get him out of his bed.

“yuta called, remember him?”

“yeah, ‘the silencer’” he smirked, the dumb nickname still remembered by the pair even after all these years.

“yeah well, he said that..”

“what, he said what?”

“he said.. that mark’s coming.”

haechan shot up from his bed, making his head rush at the speed.

“WHAT?”

“yeah, he said come to the campus at 1, meet him on the roof.”

he looks at the time on his smartwatch. 12:46pm.

“oh shit..”

“bro, just get ready, fast.”

“yeah, yeah i will!”

he ran toward his bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face simultaneously. his sister watched him curiously, confused at why he’s up and out his room at 12.

“listen, i’ll be back soon, tell mom okay?, wait, shoes.” he hastily put his shoes on and wrestled a shirt over his head. “marks back!” he grinned at his sister but she just silently stared at him, biting back a smile.

“wait, but where are you going?”

“just tell mom i’m coming back, okay?”

“‘hyuck, wait!”

“can’t, johnnys here!”

“but you don’t have pants on! donghyuck!”

her shouts fell to deaf ears and haechan raced out the house, looking around for johnnys car. he waved down the car after he saw johnny through the window. the door swung open and haechan jumped in, not even giving it a chance to stop.

“now you want to go home, right, sir?” the driver asked johnny, while haechan was busy tying his laces and trying to contain his excitement.

“yeah but go via the imperial college of engineering.”

“well.. ok sir.”

“ugh, forgot my socks dude!”

“you forgot more that just your socks, hyuck.” he stifles his laughter and points down at haechans legs.

“oh my god..”

the car swerves around a sharp corner and through the gates of the courtyard to the ICE, imperial college of engineering. johnny looks out the window in awe of his old college, which was probably the prime of his life.

the car stops and the boys jump out of the car, johnny goes around to the drivers window.

“thanks so much, now you can go back to the airport and pick up my brother, same last name - zhong!” johnny runs after haechan as he makes his way to the roof entrance.

they sprint up the steps, johnny taking down two at a time, all so that they can see their long-lost friend. they have so much to ask him, where the hell did he go, why’d he stop talking. johnny wanted to slap him and hug him at the same time but haechan just wanted his friend back. they were very close in college, they even shared a dorm room. haechan knows mark didn’t want to cut off contact from them, he knows there was something stopping him.

they make it to the roof right on time, and see yuta standing there with his back to them, staring off into the distance and checking his watch.

“mark?!” johnny completely ignored yuta and instead starts running around the roof after seeing no sign of his friend.

“hey yuta! where’s mark?!” haechan yelled, his eyes looking all around the roof, trying to find him.

yuta smirked and slowly pulled out his phone, still not facing them, waiting for them to realise he isn’t there and come over.

“welcome, guys, long time no see, huh?.” he was dressed up nicely, in a suit with the top button undone, sporting expensive shoes and jewellery, his hair was slicked back, a big difference from the untidy thing he had on his head in college.

“want something to drink?, isn’t this the same beer you guys used to drink up on this roof, late at night?” he forces them to think back to their college days, when they sat upon the roof of the engineering building and drank up to early morning, running to make it to their classes on time, hungover as fuck. he tosses the beer bottle toward haechan and he catches it right before it hits him in the stomach.

“where’s mark.” johnny was getting frustrated now, he stopped his plane with a fake heart attack to be here right now, all for mark.

“patience please, first, i want you guys to look at this.” he holds his phone up close to their faces. a picture of yuta shaking hands with a realtor infront of a big house was on the screen.

“check out that mansion behind me. $3.5 million.” yuta smiled with his teeth while showing off to them both. “swimming pool? heated. living room? oak wood flooring. my new 6496 cc lambourgini.” he swipes through a whole array of pictures showcasing all his luxuries.

you see, mark’s only academic rival wasn’t you, there also was yuta. he was an absolute pain the ass, annoying as fuck but too smart and good-looking for his own good. you, mark and yuta were fighting all year to earn the valedictorian title. always trying to out-do each other with project and homework for a good recommendation from your teacher. of course mark ended up getting it, he was so charming to some of the teachers but so insufferable to others.

“why’re you showing us all this, where’s mark?” haechan interrupted yuta’s spiel about his achievements, demanding to know why he went through all this just for mark to not even be here.

“you don’t remember?” yuta pulls up the date on his phone, the 5th of September.

haechan looked closely at the phone, “yeah that’s todays date, and what?”

yuta smiled and the two then pushed through them, walking up to a part of the wall around the door of the entrance to the roof, that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years, covered in green stuff you could only hope was moss. yuta pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, kicks over a ladder covering part of the wall, and starts cleaning it.

haechan and johnny following closely behind him, curious to see what his explanation was for this.

there, carved onto the wall, was a date,

Sept 5th

“i bet you. ten years from now, we will meet here. same day, same place! and we will see who’s mor- who’s more successful” yuta slurred as he yelled sternly.

“d’you have the balls?! c’mon, tell me! tell me you’ll come back here!”

“remember now? i made a bet with that idiot right here. i kept my promise, i’m back.”

johnny threw the beer bottle at yuta’s feet and started marching towards him.

“I made my plane land, he forgot his pants, all to meet mark, we’ve searched for five years, we don’t know if he’s alive. but you think he’ll show up for your silly bet?”

“no i knew he wouldn’t.” yuta smiled. “he’s too scared.”

“am i gonna punch him or are you?” johnny turned to haechan then turned on his heel to grab yuta’s shirt. haechan stopped even though he really wanted someone to punch yuta.

“well then why’d you make us come here if it was just a bet between you two?” haechan asked.

“to meet mark.. and to see where i’ve reached and where he is.”

“wait, so you know where mark is?”

yuta slowly started nodding and smiled. “well, yeah.”

“w-where is he?”

“he lives up in the mountains now, probably works in some rich guys house or something.”

johnny and haechan turn to each other and smile, they’re gonna go find their friend.

“[name], are you ready to get the dress?!” your mother screams up the stairs even though you really aren’t that far away.

“yeah mom, just gimme a minute!” it’s been five years since you got your engineering degree. you got a good job, with good money, and a good life. but, something’s always been missing from your life, something that stops you from feeling like everything was worth it. you don’t like to think it, but it’s mark. mark was someone who you hated so much in your first year, you didn’t think you would make it to graduation. your past with mark lee is strange, to say the least. you never want to admit that you found yourself falling for him in your last year. he had you thinking your life was going to be amazing forever, that you would fill the gap that been empty this whole time.

yet, here you are, about to go pick up a dress for a wedding you really, really don’t want to be apart of.

your own.

you see, you thought that getting your degree and showing that you can take care of yourself would bypass the need to get you married off to another wealthy family like yourselves, clearly not as your father doesn’t have a son and needed someone to pass his college down to, it’s been passed down by his father and his father before that and his father bef- you get the point. but they thought the best idea was to get you married. it was supposed to be your sister, but she convinced your parents that they can try again with you after she found a man, an art student, to be precise, to marry instead of your family friends son, doyoung. the same doyoung who is going to be your husband in a few days.

you miss all of you friends and especially mark. maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely if you had kept messaging mark. a little bit after graduation, you and mark got into a fight, something about him not spending enough time with you. you can barely remember what it was about, so clearly it wasn’t important enough to be the reason your whole life changed. the last message he ever sent you was asking for forgiveness and saying something about how you should leave with him. he said he had something to tell you. but of course, you were stubborn and didn’t even check his messages until a week after and when you tried to reply, you found out he blocked you. you don’t remember his number anymore, even though about six years ago it was one you thought you could never forget.

you think of johnny and haechan. two of the funniest guys you knew. haechan was great to study with and always had a great supply of energy drinks in his bag for those all-nighters. johnny was great for advice and pep talks before big exams, if it wasn’t for him your sure you would’ve pissed yourself during your final.

but, we’re they ever really your friends? mark’s blocked you and nobody knows if he is alive or dead, and johnny and haechan slowly but surely fell out of your grasp, the less and less the phone calls and hangouts got, the more you wanted everything to go back to the way it was. when mark was here.

your phone dings, pulling you out of your trance. it’s your sister, texting you that she’s outside waiting to go dress shopping with you, wedding dress shopping.

your phone reads 2:23pm, September 5th.

a/n : yay this is gonna be really good i hope, also it’s my first kpop fic i’m sorry if it’s bad, the whole fic will be out soon but i don’t have a date. honestly if this flops i might not post it lol. also you will find out why they call him silencer later :)! if you wanna be on my tag list for when this drops just ask :)

BYE 😘

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writemekpop · 11 months

Text

Confession (Part 2) | 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. Jaehyun begs to have you back.

Genre: Husband!Jaehyun, serious angst, bad boy college friend!Yuta

Word Count: 2k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 💋

“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.

Jaehyun lurched towards you. “I’m so sorry-”

“Stop.” You swatted his hand away. “Give me the car keys. Find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped. “Baby, please-”

“KEYS!” you yelled, trembling.

Jaehyun nodded once and reached into his back pocket.

A fresh wave of tears falling, you ran out and slammed the door in his face.

Only, you didn’t pull your fingers away fast enough, and the door slammed on your right hand. An explosion of pain made you swear.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

You cursed. “Jae, just leave me al-“ You stopped mid-sentence, because it wasn’t Jaehyun standing in front of you, it was Yuta.

Yuta eyed your purple fingers, marked with an angry line where the door crushed them.

“Damn, Y/n, you need an ice pack!” He stepped closer, reaching out as if to inspect your hand.

“I’m fine,” you croaked.

You tried to push him away, but your hand was aching so much that you gave in and let Yuta inspect your fingers. With his brow furrowed in concentration, he gently turned them around and inspected the injury.

Yuta ran to the kitchen and back, and pressed a bag of frozen peas to your hand.

He cradled your hand in his strong arms, keeping the bag of peas pressed to it.

“You don’t have to keep holding my hand,” you said, flustered by his kindness.

Yuta’s face was serious, his eyes completely focused on your hand. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You finally allowed Yuta to carry the weight of your hand, sighing at the sweet feeling of being held.

“How’s the pain?” Yuta murmured, searching your face.

“Please, just forget what Jaehyun said,” you said, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

Yuta nodded solemnly.

You avoided Jaehyun and drove home.

---

Two months had passed since the barbeque. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and now even walking was a struggle.

You and Jaehyun had barely spoken since that night.

He’d just stare at you with these sad puppy eyes. But that only made you angrier, because you knew he was only upset that he’d got caught.

Jaehyun still thought you were ugly, just because you were carrying his child. How shallow could a person be? What happened to unconditional love?

You threw yourself into your work, staying out later and later each night.

It was a Wednesday evening, and you had just come out of the shower. You were sitting on your bed, naked, rubbing cocoa butter onto your baby bump.

Ever since that night, you’d started changing in the bathroom, to avoid Jaehyun. He didn’t deserve to see you naked.

Tonight, though, you didn’t bother to hide. Jaehyun wasn’t coming home till late.

To your surprise, the front door clicked open.

Jaehyun entered and stared at your naked body shamelessly.

“What are you doing back so soon?” you snapped, pulling a towel over your body.

Jaehyun said nothing. He simply walked towards you and dropped to his knees in front of you.

He hung his head low, resting it on your knees. His shoulders rose and fell as he let out shaky, ragged breaths.

You gasped at this show of emotion.

Jaehyun gripped your towel with his fists.

“I am so sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t sleep without you, I can’t eat without you, I- I’m going insane. Do you want me to beg?”

Jaehyun’s handsome cheeks were hollow, his eyes dark with shadow. It broke your heart to see him reduced to this. “I would do anything to have you back,” he said.

You brushed your hand through Jaehyun’s soft chestnut hair, sighing. This was the first time you’d touched him in days. You looked at Jaehyun’s lips and thought about kissing him.

Jaehyun lifted his head, his glistening eyes meeting yours. “Can we just… go back to how we were before?”

His words made you freeze. He made it sound like it was your fault that your relationship had shattered to pieces. Clearly, he wasn’t sorry. There were light years between you and him.

Slowly, but firmly, you pushed Jaehyun away.

“I… can’t.” You shrugged tearfully.

You stood up and walked to the door.

Jaehyun stayed kneeling, a tear rolling down his sharp jaw.

What had you two become?

---

Three days later…

KNOCK KNOCK

You opened the door and let Yuta inside. Although it was freezing out, Yuta was in a sleeveless T shirt, revealing firm, tattooed biceps. Typical.

“Hey…” he said, wrapping one arm around your shoulder. Since the night of the party, everything had become awkward.

“How have you… um, been?” he asked.

You touched your belly. “Only two weeks to go… then I can get my body back.”

Yuta sighed. “Don’t talk like that, Y/n. You’re perfect. You’re a-a-“ He clicked his fingers. “A MILF!”

You snorted, the awkwardness evaporating. Yuta always knew how to make you laugh.

Yuta went on. “Jaehyun is such an idiot. He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you.”

A strange expression flickered across Yuta’s face, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.

You cleared your throat. “Thanks for coming over at such short notice… the fridge just went bust and now I’m worried about the food going off.”

Yuta chuckled. “It pays to have an engineer as a friend, right?”

You smirked. “Totally.”

Yuta sauntered into the kitchen. He pulled out the fridge and started tinkering with the wires. You stood at the door, admiring the way his biceps bulged as he worked.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Yuta asked, after a while.

Your mood soured at the mention of his name. “He’s visiting his parents for the weekend. So… I’m all alone.”

Yuta cleared his throat. “Oh.”

The mood shifted, so slightly, that it was almost imperceptible.

In college, you, Jaehyun and Yuta were inseparable. Truthfully, you had a crush on both of them, but Jaehyun asked you out first, so you went along with it.

Yuta stood up, stretching his arms above his head. You watched the hem of his T shirt rise, revealing a taut brown abdomen, and a smattering of dark hair. A tattooed butterfly peeked out of the waistband of his boxers. Your throat went dry.

“All done.” Yuta said, patting the fridge door. “Don’t underestimate this fridge. She works like a dream.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand. “You’re an angel.”

Yuta’s eyes lingered on your joined hands. “I should… probably go.”

He pulled his hand from yours and walked towards the door.

“Wait,” you called.

Yuta stopped in his tracks.

“Won’t you stay for a drink? It’s been so lonely lately… I- I miss talking to someone.”

Yuta turned round. “Okay.”

---

So that’s how you and Yuta ended up side by side on the couch, him with a whiskey, and you with a soda, reminiscing about your college days.

Yuta wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “I still can’t believe Taeyong did that. And to think he’s a professor now!”

“Right?” you said, smiling at the memories.

“Hey,” Yuta said, nudging your shoulder. “Remember that time we hooked up?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Lately, you’d been replaying that memory almost every night. You and Yuta in the back of the library, your hand down his sweatpants, his face between your legs...

You’d shove your hand into your panties and pray that your sleeping husband wouldn’t hear you. For some reason, you couldn’t get Yuta out of your head lately. Especially cocky teenage Yuta, with his tight muscles, tongue piercing and bleached blonde hair.

You tried to play it cool.

“Oh yeah!” you said, laughing a little too loud. “I totally forgot about that!”

“Shame it was only one night though.” Yuta’s eyes were hazy, as if he was watching the memories on a film. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand. “Then Jaehyun showed up and well… the rest is history.”

His face became serious. “Y/n, you deserve a husband who wants you. A husband who fucks you. A husband who understands what a goddamn privilege it is to do that.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

The rough, paint-splattered denim of Yuta’s leg rubbed your bare thigh. You noticed the faint stubble on Yuta’s chin, the handsome curve of his brow, his strong, square jaw. Was he always this sexy?

Yuta was staring at you with hungry eyes. It made you feel desired… something you hadn’t felt in months.

Suddenly, you craved Yuta with an intensity that was almost crippling. The thought of Jaehyun entered your mind, but you pushed it into the corner.

You wanted to be wanted, and right now, Yuta was looking at you like you were the only woman on the planet. That’s all that mattered.

Yuta was waiting, muscles tensed, for you to make the first move.

You gulped. It was now or never.

You leaned over and kissed Yuta on the mouth. That was all the permission he needed. You led him onto the couch in the living room.

Yuta pulled you onto him, kissing you with an animalistic intensity. One of his hands squeezed your breast, and the other grasped your hair and pulled, hard. You yelped, Yuta’s moves sensing sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

Yuta was rough – kissing you firmly, yanking at your clothes. He wasn’t holding back. Ever since you got pregnant, everyone treated you like you were breakable, like you were made of glass. The fact that Yuta wasn’t doing that made you want to scream with happiness.

Soon you were both naked. You were on top, riding him shamelessly. Yuta’s lips never left your skin.

Yuta’s groans got louder, and soon he began to curse in Japanese. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t understand him – no words were needed.

Your high ripped through you with a flash of white heat. It was so intense that when you opened your mouth, no sound came out.

You rolled off him, exhausted in the best way. Yuta held your hand as you both came down from your highs.

Soon your heartbeat slowed to normal.

Then, you felt a blow to your side, making you cry out in pain. It was the baby, kicking you from the inside. In a sickening rush, you were reminded of who you were married to, the fact that you were nine months pregnant with Jaehyun’s chid.

“You should – go,” you said.

Yuta’s head snapped in your direction, a flicker of hurt evident in his dark eyes.

“Please,” you said. The post-sex glow was fading fast.

Yuta stood up and reached for his boxers, grumbling, but obedient. “You deserve better than him.”

Just then, you heard a car pull up to the driveway. Yuta ran to the window. When he turned to you, his face was blank.

You knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

to be continued...

—

READ PART 3 HERE!

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bigbangclappin · 1 year

Text

Baby Daddy Gangster 2

Summary: Ding Dong! Your baby daddy is back and wants in your life and your daughter’s. And with that smile you might as well shove the door wide open.

Paring: Nakamoto YutaXReader(1st Person POV!)

Warnings: Cursing! Baby Daddy themes, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, Mafia/Yakuza themes (It’s not glamorous in real life folks!)

Word Count: 2,382

A/N: GUYS IT'S FINALLY HERE! PART TWO! I hope it's enjoyable! I loved writing it! Let me know if we want a part three!

Tag List: @iveivory @champagne-n-yachts @dilfjohhny @junglewoos

Part one

Unknown number: Is Yuki wearing a 3T or a 4T?

You: Who is this?

Unknown number: Really baby?

I shook my head in exasperation, throwing my phone into my back pocket. The man was relentless to say the least, he did earn that title fair and square.

What could I have possibly been thinking back then?

Clearly sexual gratification was worth more to me than my hypothetical child’s future, because now here I am. Stuck with a gangster for a baby daddy who didn’t understand the phrase get lost.

I shrugged my shoulders, well there was nothing I could do to change who Yuki’s dad is now. I just had to live with the consequences of my actions.

Which wasn't all that bad considering my daughter was healthy and happy, I grinned as she played with her dolls on the floor. She did resemble her father, with her pretty smile and expressive eyes, she received all the best qualities of Yuta it seemed.

“Mommy?” Her sweet little voice asked from where she sat on the floor.

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

I giggled because she loved to play guessing games ever since she could speak in almost full sentences. I never had the heart to discourage her playful chatter despite her daycare teacher’s warning about how it was becoming disruptive in class.

“What?” I replied casually, taking a sip from my drink.

“I met Daddy today.”

My entire mouthful of beverage was spewed across the room and on to my daughter who whines.

“Mommy ew!” She cried, wiping her little arms in disgust.

“Oh Yuki I’m so sorry sugar,” I snagged some paper towels from the kitchen and began cleaning her off.

“But what did you mean by you met Daddy?” I asked keeping my tone as even as possible. “You don’t have a Daddy, remember?”

She shook her head defiantly, her dark hair flying every which way, “I do have a Daddy mommy! And he’s pretty! And look he gived me a present!!”

My heart was racing as she flew to her small panda backpack. She rummaged through it for a moment before wobbling her way back to me with something in her tiny hand.

When the gold glinted in the light I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, he really went behind my back. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I shouldn’t have felt hurt either. Yuta was resourceful and clearly he used those resources to his advantage to find Yuki’s school.

The tiger bracelet in my daughter’s hand mocked me; after everything I had done to keep that God damned insignia out of her life he literally just dropped it in her hand like nothing.

Once a fucking bastard always a bastard.

It took all I had in me to not snatch the piece of gaudy jewelry out of Yuki’s hand and melt it in my fireplace. I took a very, long and deep breath in.

“Yuki, how did you get this?”

“I told you Mama,” She exasperated, “Daddy gived it to me”

“It’s gave love,” I corrected, “Where did he give it to you?”

She put her finger to her lips in thought, “Mr. Lee tooked us outside to play and dis really big car was dere. Den a big scary man got out, he was not nice Mommy, but den Daddy got out and yelled my name–”

“Yuki, that's dangerous, we've talked about not speaking to strangers!” I scolded her, literally stunned. My daughter was so trusting she basically ran into her father’s arms without question.

She recoiled at my tone and began playing with the little trinket on the bracelet out of nervousness, “But Daddy isn’t a stranger…”

I didn’t mean to scoff at my child but she had never met her father once, I know Yuki was sweet and that she was young but I couldn’t understand why she went against what I taught her for a man who is a complete stranger to her.

“Yuki,” I sighed, “You don’t have a daddy Sugar.”

Her cheeks turned red with a huff, “I do too!”

I put a hand to my forehead ready to end the man I had loved for most of my life. This is exactly why I wanted to keep him out of her life.

“Where was Mr. Lee?” I decided to change my questioning to keep her from getting any more upset.

“He came over after Daddy gived-gave me my present.”

“Did he say anything to…Daddy?” I literally had to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

It took Yuki a moment to respond before she said, “Mr. Lee picked me up and asked Daddy who he was.”

“Anything else?” I pushed knowing it was a little unfair to expect her to remember everything the men said or did but my three year old was my only witness.

“Ummmm yeah!” she said excitedly, “Daddy asked Mr. Lee why are you holding my daughter? And then Mr. Lee said dat I don’t have a daddy. But den Daddy showed Mr. Lee a piece of paper and Daddy told me that he would see me and mommy later and got in the big car again. ”

Oh Jesus Christ. He never changes. Over possessive asshole and what the hell did he show Yuki’s teacher? Such a jerk off move to use my kid as a way to exert some weirdo caveman claim on me.

This was a mess I did not agree to and it was stressing me out. I had no immediate fix to remedy Yuta throwing himself into Yuki’s life. I didn’t even have a clue on where to begin to unravel everything my baby daddy put into her head.

“Thanks baby,” I patted her head, “Go wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

“Okay mommy.” she scooted off as I made off for the kitchen.

I never quite made it there because there was a knock on the front door. I sighed I didn’t want to deal with any door-to-door missionaries or salesmen. I went to check the peephole and saw my worst nightmare standing there.

Looking more delicious than the last time I had seen him. Tight ass tshirt hugging his pecs and abs. His organization’s tattoos were covered by the jacket he wore all but the ones on his neck. That same damn tiger he gave to Yuki was peeking over his shirt collar like a damn slap to my face.

Against my better judgment I opened the door. I had a bone to pick with him about going behind my back.

“So you’re a stalker now?” I asked with a strong bite.

He flashed his panty dropping smile at me as he smashed the cigarette he was smoking out under his fancy loafers.

“Only for you baby,” he poked at me with that cheeky tone, “And of course our beautiful Yuki.”

I frowned in anger instantly, “You had no right to go to her school Yuta.”

He tsked, “Why not? Because you said so? Last time I checked I never signed over my parental rights.”

“Are you serious right now?” I gasped in shock, “You abandoned us not an hour after she took her first breath! You never came out of the shadows to do anything with her! As far as I am concerned you did sign off on any kind of rights or relationship.”

His cheeks flushed red which meant he was starting to lose his temper. A real shocker.

“You have no idea the threats I was facing at work, I abandoned our family so that you and our daughter wouldn’t get hurt or worse.”

“Why weren’t you honest with me then? I would’ve understood if it came down to her safety—”

“You’re full of it babe you gave me a hard time whenever I uttered a single word about the family. If I had told you the truth at the time you would’ve ran and I would have never been able to keep tabs on you and Yuki like I’ve been able to since she was born. At least this way I could be with you during your pregnancy and keep you both safe even if that meant I couldn’t be with you after you gave birth to her.”

My head was spinning and I felt like I was being gaslighted, “When I told you I was pregnant you told me to get an abortion.”

He let out a hum, “And when you slapped me across my face that was the end of it. I knew how serious you were about wanting her. I never said another word about it.”

“You’re literally insane…” I mumbled running an entirely confused hand through my hair.

“No doubt about that babe you knew that when we got together back in school. Now that we’ve cleared the air may I please come in and see our daughter? I brought gifts…and since you chose to be petty and ignore me about what size she is I also brought gift receipts.”

I finally noticed the large men standing off to the side with armfuls of gift bags, large, small, medium, mostly girly in prints and pinks. Oh my god he’s bribing my kid, he’s seriously bribing my daughter.

“Yuta do you realize how confusing this must be for her? Like you were nonexistent in her three years of life and just want to pop in with presents and pretend like you were always there? That’s not fair to her, just because you’re her biological father doesn't automatically mean you have a relationship with her. And while we’re on the subject, what the hell did you show to Mark?”

Yuta ticked his jaw to the side and licked his lips; he was angry for sure.

“Who the fuck is Mark?” He snapped at me some of his cool demeanor flying out the window.

Jealous. Again. Over someone who watches Yuki. Utterly ridiculous.

“Yuki’s teacher, remember?” I bit back, “You shoved something in his face, what was it?”

“Her fucking birth certificate,” he said with a clenched jaw, “So you’re on a first name basis with all of her teachers then?”

“Nakamoto Yuta,” I spat, “Enough with your petty jealousy it’s irritating and irrational and also unwarranted.”

“Apparently it isn’t if you’re on a first name basis with her teacher.”

I was 1000% over his childish attitude. This wasn’t the first time we argued over his tendency to get jealous.

“Have a lovely evening Yuta,” I started to close the door but one of the beefy men blocked me from slamming it in my baby daddy’s face.

Yuta snapped at the man in Japanese but looked back to me, “Let me in to see our daughter (Y/n).”

“I didn’t bow to you three years ago and I’m certainly not doing it now,” I growled at him, “You can’t snap your fingers and expect me to jump for you like a dog.”

He ran a hand through his dark shaggy hair in anger, “I expect you to let me have a relationship with our daughter.”

I folded my arms across my chest in means of frustration and protection, “What’s your endgame here Yuta?”

“There’s no endgame here (Y/n) but wanting a relationship with Yuki.”

“Why now though Yuta?” I questioned him with my head tilted.

He opened his mouth to answer when a small cry came from behind me. “Daddy!”

I blocked my daughter’s view by placing my legs in front of the small slot made by the door, “Look what you’ve done. How am I supposed to explain to her that you left when you inevitably leave again?”

The look on his face was a mixture of anger and hurt with his jaw clenched he said, “What I did to keep you and Yuki safe should not be what you hold against me (Y/n), I’ve done a lot of things to warrant your resentment but this is not one of them I promise. You chose me too, you know? It takes two people to have a baby.”

“It’s not my fault the condom broke Yuta…” I growled quietly and my eyes shifted toward my elderly neighbor who was out walking her Poodle. Apparently I wasn’t quiet enough since she gave us an affronted look on her way by.

“It’s your fault you weren’t taking the pill babe,” he said just as angry, “We can point fingers all we want but it’s a little late for the blame game don’t you think? All I want is to see our daughter. Regardless of our past, Yuki has the right to a father.”

My daughter began swatting my legs so she could get to Yuta, “Mommy I wanna see Daddy. Move please!”

I scoffed at how rude my daughter was, “Yuki, that's not how we ask to get by, telling someone to move is impolite.”

“Sorry Mommy but Daddy’s here!”

“Sugar I’ve already told you that you do not have a–”

“(Y/n) don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re the one that’s going to confuse her. Come here my baby girl, I brought you something!”

My blood boiled as I watched my baby daddy pick my little girl up and kiss her cheek while letting her peek into one of the large gift bags. I couldn’t resist the little smile that poked through at her excited squeal, her happiness was contagious.

My stomach may have done a flip when I noticed the soft look on my ex’s face as he helped Yuki rifle through the clothes he had bought her. It was probably just wishful thinking on my part, but seeing him hold my child just felt natural.

I awkwardly made eye contact with another neighbor who lived across the way and even with the distance I could see the judgmental look on his face. I sighed, finally relenting to let the men in. I didn’t want anyone to report me to the landlord on suspicious activity.

I pushed the door aside and motioned to Yuta, “Come inside, people are staring.”

He gave me that gorgeous smile that got me pregnant in the first place, “Thanks baby.”

As I allowed his guards inside I knew I was going to live to regret my decision but what could one visit hurt?

A lot.

It could hurt a lot.

#nakamoto yuta #yuta nct127 #kpop scenarios #bigbangclappin #nakamoto yuta angst #nakamoto yuta smut #nakamoto yuta imagine #nakamoto yuta mafia au #nct mafia au #yakuza au #nct 127 angst #nct au #nct gang au #nct 127 au #kpop angst

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acescavern · 7 months

Text

END TO START - LEE TAEYONG X READER

Navi - M.list

Pairing: Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader. ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

Genre: Heavy angst my guys, soulmates au, neo frat au, university au, fluff, Hanahaki Soulmate trope.

Synopsis: Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

wc: 4.9k

Warnings: Heavy angst, Blood, Mentions of death, suffering, choking, johnny is unfaithful, it's a Hanahaki au so they basically cough up dead and thorned flowers. It's not a graphic description but there are descriptions of pain too, mentions of weight loss due to being unwell, Unrequited love, hurt, Taeyong's been in love with the reader since before her and Johnny got together, heavy rejection, soulmate rejection ( Just because i have written this does NOT mean that i think any one of the nct members would cheat or act thi way. this is pure FICTION.) Please let me know if i have missed any warnings

Note: Hi! I have a few fics in the works but I'm worried I wont get them done for Halloween. So, I am blessing you with this heart-breaking fic. I wanted to release this fic early as a thank you for all your love on Operation Rizz! Now, this is the same frat universe as all my other NCT fics. they can all be read as stand alone though, so don't worry! Any feedback is once again appreciated. I do not own the concept of Hanahaki.

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Soulmates were supposed to be someone's everything—the one person who was meant specifically for them. Someone you can lean on and cherish, who would dote and adore you. Someone to dish out as much love to you as you unto them. To stay by your side and grow old together. However, some people are already at that stage when they meet their destined person. There was also the worry of some people not having a soulmate. Legend says that only the blessed are gifted with such.

Gifted? Yes. To many, the Soulmate system is a curse - depending on what type you are assigned to. Tattoos? Easy. Mind reading? Okay a little more difficult. Red string? That practically takes you straight to them. Eternal life? Near impossible! You could spend many years with someone you thought was a soulmate only to see a wrinkle and realize you aren’t made for each other at all. Seeing things in black and white only to suddenly be overwhelmed with color at a music festival and not know who the hell you’d bumped into in that massive crowd that could possibly be your soulmate. Not everyone even had a soulmate, they could be with whoever they wanted without consequences.

But there was one type in particular that nobody wanted. Hanahaki. Named after the fictional Japanese Hanahaki Disease. It comes from the Japanese words Hana - meaning flower and Hakimasu - quite literally meaning, to throw up.

In a soulmate's case, when they first meet each other a seed is awakened. It grows thorned roses - the flowers of love - cradling the person’s heart and twining around inside their lungs. For the most part, other than the occasional flutter and heartburn, it goes unnoticeable. So long as the soulmate reciprocates the feelings of love. But, should one soulmate start to fall out of love? The other will suffer terribly. The flowers will die, the spikey stems squeezing at the organs they were once gently caressing with love. Crushing in their anguish.

Of course, unlike the other soulmate types, there are two ways out of Hanahaki... Let the weight of the unreciprocated love drag on painfully until you die, or convince your health insurance to accept the cost of the operation to remove the offending plants. However, by the time one realizes they are soulmates, it is likely that the bond has already been unreciprocated.

Taeyong knew this. He knew this because it happened to him. He had once been on the receiving end of the agonizing scratch of dead rose stems climbing up his throat in a mess of blood and wilted petals. Taeyong had nearly died. He recognized the signs clearly and that was the reason he was so shocked to see them in who he did.

Johnny’s soulmate.

Taeyong first took notice when you walked through the door of the club. A celebration night to celebrate the frat’s anniversary alongside Taeyong’s new choreographer position in the dance studio he works in. Your face had a slightly paler tone and although you were doing a good job at keeping your breathing even… Taeyong recognized the telltale signs of a wince when you took the air in too harshly.

But when he saw Johnny approach you and press a loving kiss to your forehead, he scolded himself for thinking such things. Taeyong knew something was up though, your smile didn’t meet your eyes and when you congratulated him with a hug, he swore he could feel your body tremble.

He tried not to worry too much throughout the night but when he saw Johnny by the bar, his charming smile dazzled at some sorority girls that had been invited… Taeyong wondered where you’d gone. The disappointment within him only grew when he watched his best friend and frat brother go home with one of them.

So, maybe his suspicions were correct. A few weeks passed and he’d not seen a glimpse of you, Johnny hadn’t even uttered your name. The rapper hadn’t had time to sit him down and ask him about the incident. Until now.

Taeyong dabbed the sweat from his brow with the neckline of his shirt, swiping his water bottle from the floor. He shuffled toward his friend, watching as he grinned at his phone as he typed. He was talking to someone and Taeyong only hoped it was you. That you’d both mended things to stop it getting worse. The thought of it all being a misunderstanding had a relieved smile spreading across his face as he settled on the floor next to Johnny.

“You texting ____? Tell her I said Hey.” Taeyong said, twisting the cap off his drink to take a swig. Taeyong was almost taken aback at the irritated flash that crossed Johnny’s expression at the mention of your name.

If Taeyong wasn’t so observant, he would have missed it. Johnny shook his head, swiftly locking his phone when his leader went to peer over his shoulder. “It’s not. It’s Yuki.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows scrunched, posture freezing for a moment. “The sorority girl you went home with?” He tried to keep his tone level. Memories of the same thing happening to himself reoccur in his mind. “What about ____?” The question hung awkwardly in the air, Johnny staring at Taeyong as if he’d asked something ridiculous.

“What about her?” He shrugged. “Just because I do stupid things, doesn't mean I don’t love her. She’s my soulmate.” He paused, an almost defeated sigh sagging at his shoulders. “The only one I got.”

Taeyong took notice of the slight bitterness in his words. Almost as if he didn’t realize that he did it. “Do you?”

Johnny rubbed at the back of his neck, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Once again, a defeated shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat as his voice broke. “I’m sure we’d of noticed by now if I hadn’t.” Johnny left no room for debate, standing up with a clap of his hands to suggest they continue their lacrosse practice.

You knew. You knew Johnny’s feelings for you were dwindling. You were reminded every time you coughed. Reminded by the way your breath left you in an agonizing squeeze when Johnny would kiss your forehead.

But, even though you knew… it didn’t make you love him any less. You knew what he got up to when your nights weren't spent together. You didn’t do a thing, didn’t bring it up. You almost tried to ignore it. You loved Johnny. You always would. And, as long as you continued to love him, he wouldn’t have the same fate as you. You would never wish this pain on him even if he was the cause.

You wished you’d heeded Mark’s seemingly lighthearted warning at the beginning of your relationship. ‘He’s one of my closest friends but he doesn’t always do the right thing, just… please be careful.’ Mark had said one evening. You hadn’t truly understood why he had said it, nor did you get to question him before Johnny had slid his arm around your middle.

You understood perfectly now. Especially as a sharp tickle wheezed in the back of your throat, your eyes discreetly scanning the new text message from your seat at the very back row of English lit class. ‘Can we rain check date night again? Coach is being a hardass and wants us to stay late.’ For the third week running, the same excuse. Sure, you’d seen Johnny. But Thursday was always date night. Something you’d both stuck to like glue once before.

Pain twisted in your chest, your breath rough. You brought the sleeve of your hoodie to your mouth, attempting a discreet cough. It didn’t do anything for you, the feeling like you’d swallowed razorblades. The world felt like it was spinning for a moment and you had to close your eyes and count to ten to steady it again.

One look at your sleeve had you frowning. The next stage had started. You’d read about this. Discoloured petals. You’d only coughed up one but one was enough for you to be sure. With one last attempt at clearing your throat, you brushed the blackened petal to the ground.

Taeyong shared this class with you. Whilst he didn’t often sit next to you, he was mostly always on the same row. Not many people occupied the back row and so, when he heard the muffled hack come from your direction he had looked over, shoulders tensing as he watched you.

He approached you at the end of class, watching your sluggish movements as you shoved your laptop back into your bag. “____, Are you alright?” He asked softly, noting the sheen of sickly sweat coasting your forehead.

Lips pressed firmly together, you nodded. You were certain if you opened your mouth you'd start coughing and choking again but you didn’t want to be rude. “I’m fine.” Bad idea. “Sorry, Yong, I gotta go-” Taeyong had never heard your voice so scratchy and coarse. He had also never seen you flee so quickly before he could even open his mouth, your notepad falling from your unzipped bag as you vanished before his eyes.

As he knelt down to collect it from the ground, his fingers made contact with a velvety, withered texture.

A blackened rose petal.

The next time Taeyong saw you, you were much worse than he could have imagined. He had only turned up at your apartment because he assumed Johnny had left his phone at your place. He couldn’t really understand the rushed words of ‘Shit! I left my phone at her place, I’m already late!’ When Taeyong offered to go and get it, he naturally thought of your place.

So when you answered the door, he was standing frozen at the sight of you. Your eyes had bags under them that would put JFK airport to shame. Your complexion was grey, lips cracked and dry. Taeyong could definitely see you’d lost some weight too, your knitted sweater nearly slipping off one shoulder. His gaze caught onto the marks along your neck, long red streaks almost looking like you had been clawing at it in your agony. Your winced call of his name kicked his brain into gear.

“Now isn’t a good ti-” His hands flew out to rub and pat your back as your words were interrupted.

Taeyong’s heart broke as he watched you struggle. You couldn’t get your breath, your face turning red from the strenuosity. Taeyong backed you into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He sat you on your couch, disappearing from view for a moment.

You didn’t even take note of what exactly was being thrust under your nose, only that it would catch what your body rejected. One of his hands held the bucket, the other sweeping your hair away from your face. It was all too familiar for him. Except for Taeyong, he had done it alone.

“It’s okay, ____” He hushed, palm flattened over your back to rub comforting circles. “Breath through your nose and count to ten. It helps.”

You did as such, shoulders relaxing as the air finally seeped into your lungs. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, sighing at the crimson residue that was becoming all too familiar. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be gently hushed once more.

“It’s okay, it’ll hurt too much if you talk.” He set the bucket down on the side table. “You should get yourself some grapeseed oil. A teaspoon a day should at least prevent the attacks so often.” Taeyong didn’t look at you as he spoke, his hands busying themselves with opening the small drawer to your coffee table in search of tissues.

“You mean this?” You rasped, pulling the small droplet bottle from your pocket, and setting it down on the surface before you. Taeyong’s eyebrows creased.

It was the exact same bottle he was sure he had. Though, catching sight of the label on the bottle he knew it was his bottle. ‘Taeyong’ scribbled messily on the labeled sticker. He looked at you expectantly.

“Johnny gave it to me.” Just uttering his name sent a pang of hurt through you, a wave of emotion rippling from your jaw to the tips of your toes.

Taeyong understood immediately, a deep sigh resonating as he nodded once. “He knows then.” To which you nodded, eyes fixed on your lap.

He had never seen you cry, and he would hate to admit it but your eyes looked pretty when you did. It was as if the glaze of tears enhanced the colors of your iris. “He doesn’t know it’s this bad. He thinks the tickle has just started.”

“____, you’re dying and you’re telling me Johnny hasn’t noticed yet?” To say that Taeyong was in disbelief was an understatement. The new knowledge that Johnny knew now had floored him.

Why? Because Johnny hadn’t once let it show. Taeyong had been around the guy all week and he was still the happy comedic genius he always was. Not a hint of anything bothering him.

“Yong, It’s okay. I..” You drew your knees up to your chest, patting the spot next to you for him. “I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Come to terms with it?!” He spluttered. “____, you are in your twenties! You can’t be okay with dying in your twenties.” His hand raked through his hair, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn't come to terms with how calm you looked right now.

Taeyong could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest, his gaze hardening as he addressed you once more. “You know he’s been seeing her too, don’t you?”

You were silent, shame eating at your subconscious. “If I ignore it then he won’t have to be like this too.”

Taeyong sprung up to his feet. “Wake up! He’s out there living his life with no regrets and you’re the one to suffer? I can’t…” He shook his head, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I just-” With one last shake of his head, Taeyong left you there. The slam of your front door announcing his absence.

Johnny remembered the conversation between the two of you very clearly. He was convinced he still loved you a lot. Just not in the way you need. At first, he thought it was doubt, but as time went on he started to notice the dry tickly cough and the abundance of petals scattered in your trash. He was sure it wasn’t harmful yet, certain that he still held the love in his heart for you.

Johnny didn’t love Yuki. She was fun. She was different. She wasn’t you. He could spend time with her without any strings attached. It was freeing, knowing he wasn't destined to be with her no matter what.

He felt guilt at first. He didn’t like lying to you, but it was for his own selfish gain that he did. Johnny had seen Taeyong go through the pain and near death of a soulmate falling out of love, he didn’t want that for himself. Johnny had too much to live for, as arrogant and self-centred as that sounded.

He remembered what you said when he gave you the vial of grapeseed oil, how your shaky hands had placed over his own. How you told him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. But Johnny couldn’t help but think it was. Johnny tried so hard to make himself love you still. Your words of comfort swirled in his mind and kept him up at night. ‘Nobody can help who they do and don’t love. Feelings change, People don’t’ You’d said to him.

Johnny felt ashamed. Being unfaithful to you whilst you still loved him with every ounce of your soul. Deep down, Johnny knew you only had two options he just hoped you made a decision before it was too late.

Taeyong had been seen by barely anyone all week. It was as if he was attending his classes and then picking up every extra shift or odd job imaginable. The Neos were even more shocked when Mark slapped a flier down on the dining table ping pong table in front of some of the brothers. A for sale flier, advertising their frat leader’s motorcycle. The very same one that he cherished and spent a fortune to modify.

“Do you think he’s in debt?” Jungwoo frowned, setting his beer on the table.

That question alone earned a chortled laugh. “Woo, we’re in university. We’re all in debt.” Yuta clapped him on the back. “But, on a serious note, He’s been acting super weird lately.”

Everyone launched into debate, trying to determine why Taeyong would be selling his pride and joy so suddenly. Conversation ceased when the front door opened and the man in question shuffled into the open-plan living space with an exhausted wave.

“Ty, are you actually selling the bandit?” The question came from Taeil, Neo frat’s oldest member.

Taeyong moved through the living area, taking a seat at one of the beanbags littered around the table. “Already sold it.” He bobbed his head in a nod.

It earned him many concerned looks. “Are you in trouble or something? Are you trying to cover the water bill from when Mark broke the faucet?”

“No, Jae. I’m not in trouble. It’s not for me.” He reassured, his voice dying down quietly. “It’s for ____.”

Everyone stopped. Mark locked his phone, Yuta stopped chipping at his nail polish, and Taeil nearly spat out his beer. Jaehyun and Jungwoo were already staring at him.

“Why?”

Taeyong took a deep breath, anticipating the question.It didn’t take long for him to catch them up to speed. “You haven’t noticed? I can’t watch her die. Even if she’s come to terms with it.”

“She’s not been to class for a few weeks. Professor Choi just straight-up skips over her name now. I’m guessing they know.” Jaehyun hummed.

“Hm, Jaemin said he saw her last week on his midnight ramen run.” Mark recalled, “Said she looked like something out of living dead.”

“Mark,” Taeyong gave him a warning look. The younger just shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to book the operation for her. She doesn’t know. I just need the deposit. After that, it’s monthly payments. I can scrape enough together for the monthly just fine.” He looked pained. “Whenever I see her, it’s like I’m watching myself go through it again.”

One by one, Jaehyun, Mark, Jungwoo, Yuta, and Taeil offered their help.

The six of them didn’t make it known what their plans were but soon enough, after Taeyong had put what he had already saved with what the others offered, it was enough. He rocked up to the private medical center, cash in an envelope that was tucked neatly within the inside pocket of his jacket.

Taeyong was pleasantly surprised that he was allowed to schedule and pay the deposit on your behalf. Acting on best interest. The receptionist did stress that you needed to fill in the form and sign consent upon arrival but Taeyong was more pleased that he was giving you a chance at life. That there was a possibility that you could carry on.

What he didn’t expect, was your immediate refusal when he brought the leaflet and forms over to your apartment the following morning. The smile dropped from his face as you tried to hide away from him. ‘He could die.’ You’d cried at him. And whilst it had been proven he wouldn't, you were convinced.

“He won’t, ____.” Taeyong begged. “Please, you can’t just accept this.” The bed dipped as he sat on the edge. The many times he had visited you now, you had always been. The last time you got up to open the door, Taeyong honestly worried that you would pass away right there on the doorstep. He took your spare key after that.

Taeyong’s gentle fingers lifted the damp wash cloth from the bowl at your bedside, running the cool material over your brow and cheeks. A light smile twitched at the corner of your lips, the sensation easing your fever, only a little but it was better than before. He knew he wasn’t going to get many more words from you this evening. You’d exhausted yourself already for the evening. Taeyong was just content enough to sit here and care for you.

Honestly, before it was known that you were Johnny’s soulmate, Taeyong had hoped you’d notice him. He had often found himself wishing that it wouldn’t last so he could at least have a shot with you. His hopes were crushed when Johnny had run through the fraternity declaring you were both soulmates. Taeyong had made peace with the idea that maybe he was meant to be alone, satisfied just by seeing you whenever Johnny brought you over to hang out.

He never wished for this, though.

Tenderest of touches brushed your hair away from where it had clung to your forehead. Taeyong clicking on the standing fan in an attempt to offer you some cool relief. “Trust me, ____.” He whispered, voice brittle. “I went through this.” His confession had your right eye cracking open.

“Back in the first year,” Taeyong recalled. “Watching you and Johnny go through this… it’s like a mirror. I nearly died,” He picked up your hand, engulfing it in both of his own. “I refused the operation until it was nearly too late. For the same reason, actually.”

Your fingers twitched in his own, your index finger hooking around his thumb to offer comfort. You have suspected Taeyong had some close experience with this. Especially in the way he always seemed to understand your pain, the sad gazes, and his drive to help you. You had never expected that he would be the one in your position though. The meer thought had tears welling up in your eyes. You seemed to cry a lot around the man these days.

“He didn’t die though. Apparently, he just… coughed up the root.” He lifted your hand, the ghosting feeling of his lips against your knuckles. “I promise you, Johnny won’t die… At least think about it.” To which you nodded in agreement.

Taeyong made you soup, your favorite kind. You weren’t even sure how he knew it was your favorite but he did. He parted from you with a lingering kiss to your hairline. Just like every night. This form of unrequited love seemed to of hurt him more than his last.

He’d left the forms and leaflets on the empty bed space by your feet.

You’d asked Taeyong not to come over for the last four days. As worried as he was, he had to respect your wishes. You didn’t want him to see your sudden decline as you entered the last stage of the rejection. Meaning, that Johnny had almost fallen completely out of love with you now.

You were expecting it, Taeyong too. You and Johnny had broken things off the last time you saw each other. Both of you doing so without even having to clarify the matter. He was free. Almost.

Taeyong had been stressed all week, even his frat brothers had given him a wide berth. Many put it down to the lacrosse game the pending evening. Only a select few really knew that it was because today was the same day Taeyong had scheduled for your surgery.

He hadn’t known it was the same day as the game, Jungwoo uttering the words with caution the day before. Taeyong swore to himself that he thought he booked it for next week. He didn’t even know if you were going to accept it… Any time he brought it up you tended to change the subject.

How Taeyong managed to even pass the ball with steady swings amazed even himself, his hands hadn’t stopped shaking. He had nearly skipped the game in favor of being with you, but he knew he couldn’t. The game had gone smoothly, they were winning by one. In fact, Johnny had to take the penalty shot.

The whole field waited on bated breath, all eyes on Johnny as he just stood there, his expression morphed in such a way that Taeyong exchanged a look with Jaehyun.

“Seo! Take the damn shot already!” The coach didn’t even get through his ending word before Johnny’s form curled over, knees slamming into the ground.

Taeyong rushed over as his friend tore off his helmet and spat his mouthguard to the ground. He would worry about that later. Taeyong slid to his knees beside Johnny, his own helmet crashing to the ground out of his grip.

Johnny had never felt such pain. His airways were burning. The sensation in his chest felt like all the oxygen was being torn from him. The team crowded around him, blocking anyone else's view of the scene. A choked cough left his throat, a shout of agony following after. Petals. Blood. Stems. The flower was unwinding itself, pulling at the roots from within his chest and lungs.

The team managed to maneuver Johnny back to the locker rooms, it took four of them to carry him but soon the male was slumped against the tiles of the showers. Taeyong was beside him once again. “Cough it up Johnny, you’ll do more damage if you don’t.” He tugged Johnny’s arm to sit him forward, his fist thumping down in the center of his back. “Johnny, come on!”

To say Taeyong was relieved when Johnny finally started coughing again was an understatement. “You gotta carry it on, it’ll hurt but I’ve got you.” He pleaded over the sound of his friend’s cries and chokes.

Johnny doesn’t know how long he continuously coughed for. All he knew was the last one to shake through his body finally offered him release, Taeyong tugging him away from the mangled mix of plant and blood only to rip him, Johnny, from his shock-induced state by shoving him under the freezing cold shower stream - kit and all.

A big, clear breath left him.

“What the fuck, John?” Ten peaked his head around the corner, having raced in after the team to check on his best friend.

“Dude, that's your flower.” Mark grimaced, crouched down next to the offending object.

The announcement made Johnny’s spine straighten, and Taeyong hung his head. “What does it mean?” Johnny shakily stood, pressing the button to stop the stream of cold water.

It was fascinating how Johnny already felt better. He felt no pull in his chest, no weakness even after the whole ordeal. He felt new. But if he felt like this… then what had happened to you? The realization of what had happened weighed heavy on his guilt.

He turned to address the sort of traumatized, faces around him but it wasn’t him that spoke up. It was Taeyong. “It means I need to find ____.”

Taeyong had raced past his teammates and into the locker room without any further explanation. His phone cramped between his ear and shoulder as he tugged on his sweats at record speed. “C’mon, Petal. Pick up.” He swore to himself, only removing the device from his ear to throw on a t-shirt from his locker. It was a term of endearment he had taken to calling you of late, though quite often when you were too dazed to notice.

He ignored the looks of confusion from his friends. Well, from those other than Mark and Jaehyun. From the look on Johnny’s face, he was still piecing things together. Taeyong didn’t have time for that, snatching the keys for the beat-up Honda he had gotten recently and sprinting from the room.

Taeyong continued to call you on the way to your apartment. He had just hoped you’d gotten yourself to the appointment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing you like this. He found himself afraid to enter your building, scared of what he may find. His head thumped against the steering wheel, eyes burning with unshed tears. You had to be okay.

His phone buzzed, body jumped when he saw your name flash on the screen. He swiped to answer, bringing it up to his ear with a relieved sigh. “____.” He listened to your breathing for a split second, registering the steady beeps in the background.

“Is he alive?” Your tone was filled with urgency but your voice was clearer than Taeyong had heard in weeks. It had a relieved laugh bubbling from his chest, salty droplets cascading down his cheeks and leaving his tear ducts with the tension in him.

“He’s fine.” He sniffled, rubbing at his face. “ Petal, you’re okay. I tho-” You interrupted him with a soothing call of his name.

“You were right.” He listened to you pause, the sounds of you sipping through a straw present in the receiver. “There are things I do have to live for.” You spoke quietly. “The first one being myself.”

He hummed in agreement, starting up the car again. “Yeah? I’ll be there soon and you can tell me all about the second, Petal.” He was rewarded with a breathy laugh. “What?”

“Petal.” You murmured, Taeyong could hear the slumber lingering back into your tone.

“Get some rest. I’ll be there soon.” He was about to pull the phone away from his ear when you quietly called his name again.

“Yes?” He hummed, clicking the hands-free and setting the phone into the holder on the dash.

“Can I tell you my second reason?”

“What’s that, Petal?” He smiled softly to himself.

“It’s you.”

©Acescavern - I do not give permission for my works to be copied, translated or reposted

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jhdyuiee · 1 month

Text

Where are You?

✪ pairing: BIKER!yuta x GF!Y/N

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

✪ w.c: 2.4k

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

3:40 a.m

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

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

“Where have you been?” I questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled, “That’s it? Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer my question baby.”

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

“Y-Yes. I missed you so much Yuta.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” I whimpered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ye-Yes please put it inside.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the next morning.

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

Yuta lying beside me…

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

Yuta smiling in the morning?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you so much more.”

24.03.26

125 notes · View notes

imnotjaesblog · 4 months

Text

Part 8: The Drop Out

Starring: Nakamoto Yuta

Summary: Nakamoto Yuta was known for his partying lifestyle. The man had zero care in the world for anything that didn't involve getting high or drunk. He slept around and traveled from place to place without a care in the world. Until one particular event with his mother stealing all his money led to him traveling to Japan to handle business. With a few dollars in his pocket, he traveled unknowingly to you who had also gone to Japan during your time away finding his mother easily while he struggled to spot her. With enough zeros who convinced her to cross her own son.

Warnings: Smut, Public Sex, Angst, Manipulation, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs.

Words: 9k

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!

Enjoy :)

You never thought this was where it would come to. You and Johnny Suh sitting in one of the tallest buildings in the city. Sitting in one of your Father's buildings, HeadQuarters. Both of you sat in his office your father sitting behind his high desk while the two of you sat in front of it. Security standing in all areas of the room. Some Security yours, some Johnny's but the majority your fathers.

The office was dark and cold. You always hated coming here. The large window behind your father's coal-colored desk exposed the city that surrounded you. As a kid, you would run to the window and stare below the people appearing as ants. Your father wasn't one for the arts. He was a modern man with traditional values. He was modern with his money but not his mind. Is office showed just that. A lifeless room with dark colors on the walls.

Black leather couches were placed behind for more personal, comfortable meetings with clients. However, while personal this was far from comfortable.

Your father's reactions were sure to scare you. You had been caught.

Two Weeks Ago

"So what should I wear?" you asked the three in your closet. They all sat on your velvet couch and had been sitting there for hours as you struggled to find an outfit for your date with Yuta. "I thought this didn't matter to you?" Jungwoo teased with a smirk. "Why are bothering so much with your outfit?" he asked. You huffed throwing a purple scarf on the ground.

"Because he needs to be under my spell not the other way around," you said. Ever since you had gotten rid of the video a part of you was starting to feel secure. You had felt a giant weight off your shoulders knowing Johnny no longer had anything hanging over your head. Even your friends noticed your glow. How the lift changed your attitude. They also felt things slowly were turning back to normal.

But you weren't out yet. You still had a few on your list. Getting through this date with Yuta was just the beginning of the new journey you'd go on. You weren't stupid. You knew eventually Johnny would find a way back to you. You knew he'd strike again. You just had to be ready for it.

"Okay I have these two options," you said holding up two dresses both cut above the knee and would hug your curves beautifully. The dresses were sent straight from Paris and designed to fit you and your body only. One dress has a deep olive green color and an off-the-shoulder look. Exposing your neckline gracefully. You had the perfect necklace to match, making you look tall and brisk.

The other was a deep purple that had a v-line cut. The dress would hug your body and would embrace your feminity. You had the perfect earrings to go along with the dress. The cut of the dress expressed the status you held to your name and made your presence known to those who were around.

"I like the green," said Wendy.

"I like the purple," said Jungwoo.

You looked over at Jisung, and all of you did.

"Well?" you asked holding up both dresses. He eyes the purple one agreeing with Jungwoo but the green one would also look amazing on you. Although he believed no dress would do justice to your beauty no matter how expensive it was. No matter where it was imported from or how many jewels it had and luxury fabrics were sewn into it. Your beauty would outshine a thousand diamonds he thought but couldn't say. So instead he said.

"I like the purple one," he pointed to the dress nervous lump in his throat. "Okay. I'll still try the green one on just in case," you said walking off to try the dress on. You emerged back into the closet with the green dress on. Jungwoo and Wendy Oooed and awed servants coming and placing a tray of champagne.

"Isn't champagne for celebrating?" You asked. Wendy nodded taking a glass. "Yup. We're celebrating Y/n," she said raising her glass everyone followed cheering to you and then they all took a sip. Confused you took a sip. "Why?" you asked. Jungwoo stood up stunned walking over to you and bringing you to the full-length LED mirror.

"Because it's your birthday," he said placing a soft friendly kiss under your ear. You giggled pushing him off seeing him hold you in the mirror. Jungwoo was one of your dearest friends. He knew how to make you laugh. He knew what to say and when to say. He always knew the right thing to say. You are grateful to have him.

Jisung shifted seeing the two of you. Wendy noticed chuckling she leaned over to him tapping his shoulder and breaking his trance. "Don't worry too much. He doesn't like girls," she said. Jisung only nodded but he'd be lying if he said it didn't calm his nerves. You showed off the green dress once more before Wendy begged to see the other.

You huffed disappearing with the purple dress in your hands. When you returned everyone got quiet.

"Wow," said Wendy. "Wow is right," Jungwoo responded with a proud smirk. He sipped his champagne as he relaxed on the pink velvet couch. "I'm always right," he said taking a sip. Jisung finally turned to your frame. He felt his eyes wide and almost pop out of their sockets. He didn't even bother to hide his stares. All he could think about at this moment was how right he was. You outshined the dress.

His stares made you shy, something no one had made you feel before. The only person to make you feel this way was Jaehyun. But that was the past. This was now, Jisung was staring at you like you were the only person in this world that his heart danced for. You felt the warmth creep throughout your body and to avoid taking another show an hour before your date you shook off the feeling and instead turned to Wendy.

"What do you think?" you asked her.

"Beautiful," you heard but not from Wendy. You turned your head looking towards the direction of the voice. Jisung sat there with glowing eyes, his eyes never leaving yours. "You look beautiful," he said lost in your beauty.

Wendy gasped and Jungwoo excitedly hit her arm. You smiled looking down at the dress and then back at him. When Jisung had realized he had spoken out loud he shook his head clearing his throat. "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that," he said looking away and staring at the floor.

"Because it was honest," responded Jungwoo he sent a calm smile to Jisung then he turned back to you. "You do look beautiful," he said standing up and walking over to you. "But now something needs to be done about this hair," he said with a smile placing his hand on your shoulder.

Everyone waited in your living room for Yuta to show. You sat on your couch leg jumping up and down. You shook your head hand falling to your lap. "What if he's lying?" you asked the room. Everyone turned to you waiting for you to speak again.

"What if this is a trap? Johnny has been silent so I'm assuming he's using Yuta to get back at me somehow. After he did deliver the package," you raced on. Wendy sighed sitting beside you. "What does your gut say?" she asked. "That this is crazy," you said.

"Hasn't it been telling you that the whole time?" she asked with a smile. You sighed head falling. "Your right," you said picking your head back up. "Johnny would have done something by now, he hates waiting," you said standing up to grab a drink from your fridge. You poured yourself a glass of water taking a sip.

"Miss Y/N," your maid quickly entered the room. Everyone turned their heads to look at her. She didn't acknowledge them just you. "Yuta is in the lobby," she said. You placed the glass down and she stepped aside following behind you. When you walked to your front door your friends followed. Wendy adjusted your dress and Jungwoo sprayed some of your perfume on your neck. Jisung came up from behind grabbing your coat.

He slipped it onto your skin fingertips grazing your shoulder as he slipped your coat on. He felt so close to you this way. He could feel only an inch of your back against his front. He could feel the warmth that left your skin and your infamous perfume that invaded his nose and slipped right into his brain. He hummed for a moment as his hands fell on your side feeling the soft fabric of your coat wishing you weren't going out with Yuta tonight.

You turned to him with a smile. "Thank you," you said feeling the tension between the two of you. You had been this close to Jisung before, but before didn't feel like now. Now your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty. You felt the tiny hairs creep up on your neck and when his hand was on top of your shoulders feeling you put on your coat you felt your heart skip a beat.

A part of you began to wish you had met Jisung earlier. Before you met his awful friends. You wished you met him at a time when revenge didn't matter to you.

"I have to go," you said to him. "But I'll see you later tonight right?" you asked. He nodded with a warm smile. "Of course," he said. You turned away Wendy handed you your purse. "Remember you are in charge," she said looking deep into your eyes. You nodded understandingly. You turned your servant opening the door as you left and walking you down the hallway of your apartment to the elevator. You thanked him as you stepped inside.

When you stepped out of the elevator and onto the lobby you instantly spotted Yuta in the golden-lit lobby full of decorated Christmas trees and red ribbons. He turned to you hands in his pockets. He pulled one hand out waving you over with a smile. You smiled back walking over to him.

He looked taller from where you stood. His black locks were slicked back and his body was covered in a velvet black suit. In the front of the suit, there was a v-cut that lay just above the middle of his chest. He wore a few rings on his painted fingers and a pair of black heel boots.

When you made your way across the lobby you stood next to him. He eyes you up and down licking his lips. "You look amazing," he said with a smile. You nodded accepting his compliment. It didn't feel the same as when Jisung said it.

When you stepped out onto the lobby a black limo waited outside for the two of you. The driver waited on the outside opening the door for you and Yuta. You both sat inside Yuta picking up a bottle of wine. He poured two glasses handing you one. "The drive shouldn't be long," he said sipping his wine. "In the meantime, I'd like to get to know you more," he said.

"What would you like to know?" you asked him. He shrugged with a purse of his lips. "Well, right now I only know about what I've seen and heard. Your family is really rich. Your friends are too, minus one," he said with a playful smirk. He licked his lips again sitting back on the leather seat. He crossed one leg over the other.

"But something I want to know is why your father isn't just giving you the position. How come he won't let you take his place?" he asked eyeing you. You held the full glass in your hand as you spoke tapping along the side of it. "Well, actually he was beginning to change his mind. I took some time to speak to him and it seems like I won't need to find someone else to take his place," you said.

"By someone you mean husband, right?" he asked. You scoffed out a smile. "Yes," you said. "Is that why you faked your relationship with Jeno? To get your father off your back?" he asked and you nodded. He took another sip of his wine. "Jeno is the son of an old family friend of my father. I thought it would work," you said a sigh as you spoke. "Turns out all I needed to do was just tell my father how I felt. He thought I didn't want the position and that's why he wanted me to find a husband," you said. Yuta nodded a purse in his pink lips.

"Interesting," he said. "Why do you want the position?" he asked but you shook your head placing your glass down. "Enough about me it's my turn now," you said. Yuta sent you a cheeky smile. "Why are you taking me to a fancy restaurant? Are thought that was beyond you," you asked with a chuckle. He nodded eyeing the last sip of his wine glass. He finished it placing it beside yours.

He chuckled along with you. "I can understand your confusion," he began. "But," he calmed down his expression a much softer one appearing on his features. "I'm different now," he said.

"How so?" you asked. He sighed with a small shrug.

"Well for starters I'm two months sober," He said. You eyed his empty wine glass. "With drugs," he said with a chuckle. "I didn't drink a whole lot," he said with a pause. "Maybe a little," he joked. "But I am," he said. You smiled picking up your glass and cheering it to him. "Congratulations," you said taking a sip. He chuckled shaking his head.

"Can I be honest?" he asked. You nodded placing your glass down.

"I've always had a thing for you. I mean everyone does but I'm different you know," he said pointing at himself with a grin. You scoffed, "How is that?" you asked. His jaw dropped surprised like you should have known the answer. "Because I'm me," he said. You rolled your eyes looking away at him for a moment. "That was terrible," you said. He chuckled pointing at you. "Yeah but you smiling so that's good," he said. You pursed your lips squinting your eyes at him. You had nothing else to say.

"Right this way sir," the server said to Yuta taking you both to your table. The restaurant is located in a busy city with many couples sitting together at table food already set in front of them. The lights were dim candles lit each table. A white cloth covering the wooded table tops. A Christmas tree was placed by the piano and reefs hung on the walls.

You walked further into the restaurant behind Yuta to your table. You saw an empty table in the middle of the room. Two chairs are placed on each side. You assumed that's where you'd be sitting until an older couple sat down in them. Yuta turned to you placing a hand on the small of your back.

"Our table is this way," he whispered in your ear. You nodded continuing to follow the waiter. He brought the two of you down a small hallway to a room in the back. "Your room sir," he said holding the dark wooden door open. He opened the door to a room with few booths and tables.

There were some men in suits sitting at a booth and a few couples sitting together having dinner. The waiter sat you both down at a table away from the window. Low music played in the dim light room another Christmas tree in the corner.

"This is lovely," you said as you sat down looking around the restaurant. Yuta smiled seeing your eyes light up. He let go of the breath he held since the moment he saw you. He was relieved you liked the spot he picked, after all, he had to ask Jaehyun what you liked.

You placed the cloth over your lap still checking out the view of the city you had. For years you were used to this view, but for you it never got old.

"I had a feeling you would like it," he said. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. "How did you know?" you asked him the waiter pouring two waters. You picked up the glass waiting for his response. "I asked Jaehyun," he said adjusting his blazer. The waiter bowed as he walked away placing the bottle on the table. Yuta grabbed his glass taking a sip. You almost choked on your water but you held it.

"Jaehyun?" you asked covering the water that drizzled down your lip. You swiftly wiped it away. He nodded placing his glass down. "I asked him yesterday before I came to see you," he said with a smile. You nodded placing your glass down as well. The waiter had returned.

"Would you like any drinks for the table?" he asked. Yuta nodded ordering a wine for the table. "Okay. I'll be back with the wine, and bread as well," he said walking away.

You watched as he walked away. You couldn't help but think about Yuta asking Jaehyun about your date. Sharing girls was one of Johnny's rules. He made it clear to you that night you shared that sharing another girl they dated or spent the night with was against his rules. Jaehyun and Yuta both knew the rules so why would he be okay with this?

It shifted the air in the room for you. You could feel the slight tension every time Yuta sipped his water and glanced over your shoulder. However for the time being you decided to brush it off and focus on the plan.

"I'm surprised Jaehyun told you. Aren't you guys close?" you asked the water pouring the wine and the other placing down a basket of bread. He stepped away after Yuta asked him to leave the bottle. He turned back to you with a grin.

"Me too. When I asked him he was surprised. I could tell he was a bit upset but he didn't fight me on it," He said swirling his glass around. He placed it back on the table without taking a sip and instead picked up his water with a shrug. "Maybe he's over you," he said taking a sip. You nodded one of your legs crossing over the other.

"Maybe he is," you said with pursed lips. You knew it was a lie. Jaehyun hadn't left you alone after your break up. He still doesn't he's just a lot more quiet about it. You had figured out Yuta was playing a game. It was his thing, games. He loved to play around with the people in his life. His past girlfriends, past lovers, his friends, even his father. And now he was playing a game with you.

"Why did you drop out?" you asked changing the topic. He shrugged laying his hand out on the table. His fingers tapped with the tick of the clock. "I wasn't happy being at school. College isn't for me. I wanted to travel and see the world," he said.

"Where did you go?" you asked. "Japan first to see my father," he said.

"Why?" you asked sipping your water. He eyed you but responded.

"I needed something," he said. "What did you need?" you asked.

"Travel fair. I needed to get to Korea," he said. "Why?" you asked.

"I was looking for something," he said speaking slightly slower.

"Looking for what?" you asked leaning closer to the table and moving aside the bread basket. "I heard you traveled to a party," you said.

"You did you hear this from?" he asked with a grin. "Girl talks," you said with a smile your hand laying next to his feathering his skin.

He nodded glancing at your hand next to his. He looked back into your eyes placing his warm hand on top of yours. "I was looking for someone," he said refusing to say the name. You nodded swiftly pulling your hand away and placing it under your chin.

"My turn," he said catching your attention. You titled your head as he spoke. "Why do you like Christmas so much?" he asked. "Were you spoiled rotten?" he jokingly asked. You chuckled but shook your head no.

"My father was never home on Christmas, and neither was my mother. But my Grandmother and the maids were," you said with a smile fond of the memory. "They raised you?" he asked. You nodded lifting your chin off your hand. "When I was a kid around five or six my grandparents had asked me what I wanted for Christmas," you said with a chuckle. "And I said I wanted a giant tree with a lot of lights," you said. "They did it for me and every year since they've done it," you said finger swirling around your glass of water.

"I've gotten used to not having my parents. What about you?" you asked him. His smile fell hand leaving yours. "Excuse me?" he asked. You shrugged your hands now leaning on the table. "I assumed because you live far from your father things would be difficult. I guess not," you said playing it off. Yuta nodded with a worried smile.

"Oh yeah. It can be hard but let's not discuss that," he said. You nodded, "Okay," you said.

You both laughed at the table. "So he did what?" you asked chuckling. "Okay so basically me and him ran off and jumped into the ocean. His shorts got stuck on a rock and ripped off," he said both of you laughing. "It was terrible but funny," he said with a smile. The laughter between you two dyed down.

You leaned over checking the time on your phone.

You had made him comfortable enough, it was time.

You let your hand fall over his and your foot touched his leg. He licked his lips. He stared deep into your eyes. His stare is intense reading every part of you. He could see every inch of you from where you sat. Your pink lips, the necklace that hung around your neck, and the curve of your body since one of your legs crossed over the other.

The low light from the restaurant with the bright candle lighting up your face had you glowing brighter than the star on the top of the Christmas tree. He let his hand rest over yours. Fingertips brushing over your knuckles. His warm touch heating your body and sending shivers from your head to your stomach.

The butterflies in your stomach made circles. Yuta's eyes never left yours. A playful sparkle in his orbs and a flirtatious smirk on his lips. He poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue watching as your other hand disappeared under the table and onto his thigh. You squeezed it gently feeling his crossed leg lift and rest on the floor. He spread his legs allowing you the access you needed. You were inches away from him. Your fingertips grazed the spot he craved you.

Frustrated he leaned his body over his arm grabbing hold of your chair and pulling it aside him. The two of you received some looks but no one questioned it. They assumed what was happening, the two of you just wanted to sit closer together.

Your hand held onto his thigh and when your chair halted sitting next to him you could his faint breath on the exposed parts of your neck. You crept your hand forward and squeezed him over his velvet pants. He groaned into your neck licking a strip on your skin. The cool air winter air brushed past the wet spot on your neck. You shivered moving closer to him.

You squeezed him hard causing him to hide away in your neck, biting your skin. "Fuck baby I didn't think you moved so quick," he said low in your ear. He leaned over checking to see if anyone was watching. When he saw a couple looking in your direction he smirked at them. He leaned off your neck deep dark eyes looking into yours.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered placing a soft kiss on your neck. A soft kiss turned passionate as he played with your skin between his lips. You shut your eyes for a moment a heavy breath leaving your lips. You shook your head bringing your hand to his chest and pushing off of him, his arm still wrapped firmly around your chair sitting behind your waist. He held you tightly in his grasp.

"I can't wait," You said with a playful smile. He cocked his brow poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. His mouth made a clicking sound once he spoke. "Here?" he asked motioning to the people around you two. Yuta was no stranger to having sex in public. He's the reason the school library got the tinted windows in the first place. He just didn't take you as the kind of girl to fuck in a restaurant with a bunch of strangers who were a few feet away enjoying their meals.

Then again he thought you weren't the kind of girl who wouldn't date a guy like him.

So he took his chances.

You nodded biting your lip. You leaned closer to him your eyes looking down to his lips. "Meet me in the employee bathroom in five," you said hovering over his lips. In a daze, all he could do was nod. He watched as you pulled back, pushed out your chair, and walked away disappearing. With a final glance, you walked behind the red curtain that led to the small hallway.

Yuta never got nervous. His whole life girls constantly threw themselves at him, whether it was for money or his looks he had always had it easy. And right now you were doing that same thing. He didn't believe you were easy but you were giving him what he wanted. You were here with him and now waiting in a bathroom for him to arrive. Yet he still felt like he was working for it.

He waited constantly checking his watch. You had barely gone a minute and all he could do was curse at the clock. Annoyed with time he roughly tapped his fingers on the table picking at a piece of bread.

The minute you walked behind the curtain you set your timer. You had five minutes to prepare the next part of your plan. You scoffed as you turned down another hallway past the employee bathroom. Did he not think you were going to notice?

You pulled out your phone sending a quick text to Wendy.

Y/n- Is she here?

Wendy- Right Outside. Should I send her in?

Y/n- Not yet I'm going to the bathroom.

Wendy- Got it.

You checked the timer. Only a minute had passed by. You walked over to the large window showing the city below. You weren't too far to the ground. You could still see the people that passed by. You searched around in the never-ending crowd of people. Squinting your eyes until you found the older woman. You watched as she stood outside the restaurant. You watched her for a moment. She crossed her hands in front of the other annoyedly tapping the top of her hand. She huffed cold air slipping past her lips.

You smirked recognizing her from her photo. While you were away on your small vacation of self-discovery you were also searching for something, someone. Luckily on a trip to Japan, it was that hard to find her, and with the amount of zeros at the end of the check you handed her. It wasn't that hard to convince her to follow you back.

You checked the time. This time two minutes had gone by. You walked away from the window and headed towards the bathroom. When you turned down the hallway to the bathroom you saw an employee waiting beside the bathroom. You reached into the top of your dress pulling out three hundred dollars. You brought your hand down as you walked past him, the folded money at your fingertips.

As you walked past him your hand lightly touched his. He slipped his fingers smoothly between yours taking the money. Once he received the money you opened the bathroom door stepping inside. Yuta had appeared from around the corner two minutes later. The same employee standing at the door. Yuta ignored his presence and opened the bathroom door.

Once the employee heard the door lock he placed an out of order sign on the bathroom door and then walked away.

Yuta walked in with a wide smile on his face. He stepped towards your body that leaned against the sink of the gold and white bathroom. Your hands are placed on both sides of the sink holding you steady. You had done this after feeling the burn in your feet from your heels. Lifting yourself slightly to take off the pressure. You hid your pain when Yuta walked in wearing a flirtatious smile instead.

He walked over to you licking his lips and staring deeply into your eyes. He placed both of his hands around your waist letting his fingertips roam freely on the small of your back. He left an inch between the two of you in the bathroom lit with burning candles. He leaned close to you licking his lips and biting back a smile. His bottom lip released from his teeth a darker shade of pink.

You looked into his dark golden eyes. His pupils were larger as he stared into eyes full of desire. "You look beautiful," he said eyeing you down to your heels, past the dress that hugged your curves, and to your eyes. He glanced down at your wet lips shining under the candlelight. He leaned down hovering his lips over yours. He waited for a moment. Drinking your scent, the smell of your faint perfume touching his nostrils.

The soft scent reached his brain making him flutter his lashes closed. He hummed sniffing gently. "You smell Heavenly," he said his lashes still dusting his cheek. His fingertip slid up your waist reaching behind your neck. He held your head in his hand. You couldn't help but lean in touch his warm touch. "Be careful," you said staring at his closed eyes. His eyes began to flutter open.

"You might get addicted," you said with a smile and a playful look in your eyes. Yuta scoffed a short chuckle. He shook his head stepping closer to you standing directly in front of you. His long fingers held onto you turning your body to face him fully. His front pressed against yours. "I'm already addicted," he said finally placing his lips on yours. You kissed back, a passionate kiss shared between the two of you.

Yuta was gentle with his touch. Fluttering kisses from your lip to your neck. Your head leaned back as he kissed his way down your jaw and to your neck leaving wet patches of skin as he trailed down to your sweet spot. You let out a hum of approval once he found it. He stood there for a moment still sniffing your perfume. You felt unwanted butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't deny how perfect his mouth felt against you.

He kissed down your neck kissing above the valley of your breast. You allowed your hand to come down to his chin picking him back up. He leaned up letting your hand hold his chin. "Don't be gentle with me," you hushed a stern look in your eyes. He smirked picking himself back up. This time he lifted you on the sink spreading your thighs apart with his knee. His hand roams around your plush thighs squeezing and molding the skin in his palms.

You spread your legs wide for him. He stood in between them breaking the passionate kiss you shared to harshly kiss your neck. His other hand holding the back of your head gripping onto your hair. He held the back of your head in his palm moving your head around on his own as the two of you kissed. He used his other hand to push your dress up to your hips. He glanced down breaking the kiss. Lips bruised and burnt he eyed the panties that concealed your pussy.

He moved them aside cool index finger swirling around the warmth of your cunt teasing your tight hole. You could feel yourself getting wetter the more he pulled your hair and the more he teased your hole. A gush of wetness spilled from your pussy onto his slender finger making him groan loud. He brought the finger to his lips sucking it dry. "Fuck baby you taste as good as you smell," he said with a hum eyes closed shut. He let his other hand fall to his clothed dick squeezing himself over his velvet pants trying to calm himself.

You bit onto your lip swaying your hips side to side waiting for him to return. He noticed with a knowing smirk. He returned to your lips both his index and middle sliding around your exposed pussy and coating his fingers with your juice. Once you were ready he slipped a finger inside you cooeing as you moaned right into his mouth.

"Good girl. Taking my fingers so well like the slut you are," he said with a sinful grin. He slipped around finger inside you curling them up. You felt your toes curl with how far he reached inside you. He grazed over the sweet spot inside your pussy. You leaned back on the sink allowing him to travel deeper inside you. His body followed your hand jerking hard and fast inside your wet pussy. He groaned feeling your juice flick off your pussy and onto your arm.

"That's right baby make a mess all over me," he groaned pushing his clothed cock against the sink. Using anything to put pressure onto his throbbing cock. You moaned out loud holding onto his strong veiny forearm gripping tightly, your nails digging into his skin. He felt when your pussy tighten around him. He knew you were so close to release but he couldn't let you cum, not yet.

Your moans grew louder. He slapped a hand over your mouth slowing his moments. You whined into his palm at the pace. Wide eyes on your face. "Remember baby we are still in public. Anyone can come by and hear you. Unless that's what you want? That's what you want tight? Everyone to hear you like a slut," he said deeply looking into your eyes as his two fingers still slowly pumped inside of you. You shook your head feeling when his finger slowly slipped out of you. You whined at the lost contact.

He unbuttoned his pants pulling out his hard dick and pumping it in his fist. His other hand ran through his hair as he pushed out air from his lips. He groaned at the first touch heading falling back and lips spreading apart. When his head returned to its normal place he eyes your glistening pussy. He stepped forward aligning his cock at your entrance. However, you stopped him.

"You can't fuck me without a condom," you said crossing your arms over your chest. He huffed slowly jerking his cock. He raised a brow annoyed. "Are you serious? We've come this far. I'll pull out," he said quickly trying to get back to your lips. You pushed away fixing your underwear barely even surprised by his reaction.

"No unless we use a condom," you said. He sighed stopping his motions. "Fine. Do you have any?" he asked. You nodded turning to your purse. You pulled one out handing it to him to put on. When he did you remembered what Jisung said about him controlling you. You smiled nodding your head.

"You good?" he asked. You shook yourself from your thoughts with a nod followed by a smile. "Yeah. Come," you said guiding him to the closed toilet seat. He spread his legs watching as you stood before him. He shook his head going to stand up but your hand reached his chest pushing him back down. "I don't let girls ride me," he said. You shrugged spreading his legs apart. You stepped back and he watched as you undid your dress. He watched the cloth fall to the ground. His eyes are wide staring at your exposed body. Your breast and pussy are still concealed.

You stepped towards him hands falling on his velvet-covered thighs. He let out a hoarse moan. His eyes were wide, he had never moaned before. "Fuck," he cursed fisting his cock that stood tall in his hands. You straddled his waist moving your panties aside and aligning yourself over his cock. You slid down biting your lip and holding your groan from the pain in. He was a tight fit but eventually, you sat on his thick cock. Slowly your body rolled against him. He held his hands at your waist his hands guiding you closer, connecting your bodies to the speed you were going.

Your hands on his chest and shoulder unbuttoning the black buttons of his vest and ripping the fabric open bare chest minus a butterfly tattoo at his waistline. He let his eyes watch his cock disappear into your pussy squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you felt above him. He gripped onto your waist as you sped up your pace. "Fuck Yuta," you cursed through breaths. He sat forward holding your body close to his lifting you up slowly and fucking fast into you.

Your moan stuck in your throat. He saw stars as you squeezed around him. Letting out curses into your sweaty neck. Skin slapping could be heard around the bathroom as he pounded into your hole. You brought your hand to the back of his head holding on tightly to his hair and squeezing the threads between your fingers. He gritted his teeth grazing them over your neck.

He was dangerously close to cumming. There was no possible way you felt this could be around his cock. He really could get used to fucking you, too bad he couldn't.

"Fuck baby I can feel you squeeze around me. You close?" he asked staring up into your fucked out expression. You nodded bouncing on his cock. You could feel the knot form in your stomach your clit brushing against his pelvis. Your mouth fell open as curses slipped from your lips. Your climax hits you heard. Yuta wasn't too far behind groaning loudly as you squeezed around him. Your cum dripping on his cock and slipping out of your pussy. He felt drops of your cream fall onto his skin.

He groaned fucking hard and fast soon shooting his load into the condom.

Once you both finished he road out your highs and finally set you down. You lifted off of him quickly cleaning up. You slipped your dress back on. He zipped it for you. Once you were dressed you grabbed your phone checking and sending a quick text to Wendy.

He went to place a kiss on your lips but you turned away. He didn't get mad, he instead chuckled darkly. Confused you turned to him.

"Did you think I'd fall for your little revenge act?" he asked. You scoffed, "Excuse me?" you asked confused. He chuckled again a shake of his head in disbelief. "So you just gonna lie?" he said annoyed. "You are just a slut with money," he said darkly hitting a nerve. You widened your eyes taken back by his words but composed yourself.

"What does that make you Yuta? A saint?" you asked crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm a slut? What are you?" you asked stepping up to him. He scoffed eyeing you up and down smugly he didn't step back from you instead remained above you. "Just admit it. You and your friends are plotting some revenge against us for what? Doing normal boy things? You thought by becoming what some easy A that life would be easier?" he asked with a chuckle crossing his arms over his exposed chest. Yuta was the first one out of all the boys to make you feel a burn in your chest.

It felt like he was drilling holes in your chest and ripping out your heart. How could a person talk about what they've done to women so casually? Yuta was known for using girls and then ghosting them afterward. Robbing them dry when he didn't even need the money and yet here he was talking as if what he was doing was normal. Normal enough no one should ever dare to question him to get upset at him. Yet here you were upset at him and his friends.

He smugly stared at your smirk on his lips. His chest puffed out and his head held high. His eyes glowed as you shook your head annoyed tongue poking the inside of your mouth. Then you let out a chuckle. He raised a brow but didn't flinch. You looked into his eyes with a smile. A different smile than before, more sinister than loving like you had looked at him before. He shifted slightly uncomfortable. We're you crazy? He thought.

"I won't waste my precious breath on telling you a lie," you began with wide eyes and a shake of your head. "It is true. I used you and your friends to get revenge. And if you still wondering why then you the problem and everything you have waiting for you outside that door is deserved," you said motioning your hand to the bathroom door. Yuta still confused looked over your shoulder. He fixed himself walking past you. He walked out of the bathroom while you trailed behind. He walked back to the table and saw the person he hated the most in this world, his mother.

There she was in black shades sitting down with a drink in her hands. You crept behind him making him jump. His eyes were wide full of worry and fear. How did you even find her? He spent months looking for her yet you found her in what? Days? He huffed a gush of air leaving his chest. His mother looked up from the menu she held in her hands and directly at Yuta. You glanced away from her and then at him. You leaned close to his ear.

"Don't be rude. Go see your mother," you said. He turned to you and for the first time, you saw true fear in his face. "You crazy bitch," he said. You shrugged with a smile placing your shades over your eyes and a fresh piece of gum in your mouth. You popped your gum pushing him forward. He turned back to you but all you did was wave him goodbye.

Yuta's mother was hated by most people who met her. She was cut-throat, cruel, and mean to everyone around her, including her son. The hatred they shared for each other was so bad rumored he hired someone to kill her but they couldn't find her. It took you five days to discover her in a quiet village in the mountains of Japan. You told her what Yuta tried to do with proof, thanks to Jisung sneakily collecting information from his phone. Afterward, you invited her to meet her son again, and she gladly accepted.

You were about to leave your mission completed until someone stopped you. You smirked knowing who stood behind you. "I was wondering when you'd show up again," you said to the man behind you. He chuckled darkly hand sliding down your arm and placing itself on the small of your back. "You know I had to come to check myself. I don't trust you," he said. You scoffed, "Neither do I," you said moving so his hand would fall.

"Let me take you home?" he asked. You shook your head. "This is enough," you said walking away from the scene. As you walked out of the restaurant you heard a siren blare in the distance. You felt the man grab hold of your wrist. You turned around being faced to face with Johnny.

"I knew you were there the whole time," you said with a smile. He was dressed in a designer black suit. "I know," he said with a smile. "Impress getting his mother involved. I wonder what you'll do for Jaehyun now that there's no video I have to come up with a new plan," he said with a sigh. You yanked your arm away stepping towards Wendy you waited for you in her car. You stepped in and she immediately drove off.

“Johnny knows,” is all you said placing your head in your hand. Your elbow leaning on the window. Wendy quietly nodded her head.

“What exactly does he know?” She asked.

You sighed. “He knows my plan of revenge. I don’t think he knows Jisung is involved but he knows I’m plotting,” you said eyeing the road ahead of you as Wendy drove back to your apartment. “What are we gonna do?” She asked.

“Let him think he’s won. I need him to think he can dig something against me so that he can take me down,” you said adjusting yourself to fit comfortably in the seat. You took off your heels and Wendy motioned to the slippers behind you on the seat. You took the soft pink slippers and placed them on your aching feet.

“He can tell Jaehyun about what happened between us. It doesn’t matter to me anyone,” you said with a shrug. Wendy raised a brow. You had gone through all of that to no longer care?

“Oh really? I thought you did,” she said. You nodded understanding where she would think like that. “Before yes. Before I was scared but now that I think of it, it changed nothing. I don’t even need to plot and fuck Jaehyun behind their backs when it will hurt him more to know I fucked Johnny,” you said nonchalantly a careless shrug on your shoulders.

“How so?” She asked.

You shook your head playing with the hem of your dress a scoffed smirk on your lips. “Johnny is like his brother. All I need to do is tell Jaehyun and I’ve done my part,” you said watching as the familiar buildings that led to your apartment appeared. Every street light was on and guiding the car down the busy streets.

When you entered your apartment you were alone. Everyone, including Jisung, had left. You took off your slippers and placed your purse to the side where a servant would come to get it in the morning. The maid had already fallen asleep in her corners of the apartment and everyone else had gone home. It was just you alone in your living room in the middle of the night.

You decided to change out of your stuffy dress and shower. You changed into much more comfortable clothes.

You walked further into your home glancing over at the large Christmas tree placed just by your tv. Anyone looking in could see the large golden tree from outside your window. You smiled walking over to the bar. You walked around the counter pouring yourself a glass of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1945. You poured it to the top. You sat down with the glass in your hand taking a large sip. You placed it back down as you sat at your counter quietly.

You were almost done. You needed just a few names left to cross off your list. You walked over to your purse pulling that same list out. You head back to the counter pen in your hand as you cross out names on the list.

The first name you crossed was Yangyang’s.

You remembered the moment you shared back in the summer. It was barely a memorable moment, at least not for good reasons. He was so worried about looking like a loser he turned out to be a huge one. You remembered his failed attempt at pleasure. It made you cringe. You lifted the glass to your mouth taking another sip.

Moving on you reached Haechan. Now that was fun. You liked teasing him, you had never fucked the phone before. It was exciting and new. It gave you a small rush when that happened. You smiled head resting on your knuckles. Your ring leaves a small imprint on your chin.

Too bad he was such an ass you thought crossing off his name and taking another sip.

You choked a little when you saw Na Jaemin’s name appear. You usually didn’t like vanilla and the princess treatment you received from him was any girl's dream. You weren’t a personal fan of it being treated that way your entire life but you couldn’t lie at how skillful he was. You kind of regretted going further but you had your reason. You couldn’t fuck every single one of them, to the none virgins it would mean nothing.

You crossed off his name sipping your glass again.

When you reached Jeno’s name you felt a little sad. He had been the only one you’d seen repeatedly after everything you did. After all, he was a family friend. Your father and mother adored him but after letting him solely take the downfall they hated him. Hated that he lied and used you. They pushed his entire family away cutting all ties.

You crossed his name out and sipped your wine again.

“Mark Lee,” you said to yourself tapping your pen on the uncrumbled loose-leaf paper. You sucked your teeth with a shake of your head. “You might just be a bigger perv than both Haechan and Doyoung combined,” you said with a sigh as you crossed out his name. “But you did your part in the end so I guess that makes us somewhat even,” you said taking another sip.

“Doyoung,” you said. He wasn’t half bad at sex but that fucker almost got you caught. Thank God you scared him good or else everything would have been exposed. The last thing you needed was another scandal to your name. You crossed his name off and took another sip.

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you said out loud crossing his name off. You had nothing to say about him but a wish. You wished he got everything that was coming for him.

You eyed the last few names written down.

Jaehyun, Johnny, and Taeyong.

Wouldn’t it just be easier to deal with Taeyong now? You questioned Jisung’s planning. Why did Taeyong have to happen last? What was his importance?

You tapped your pen on the counter. You swirled your wine glass in your hand. You placed the pen down on the counter. Your phone rang beside you. You picked up seeing an unknown number. You declined the call but the number called again. You decided to pick it up.

“Hello?” You asked the other person confused.

“Hello Y/n,” he said back. It was Johnny’s voice.

You felt your body tense but you relaxed yourself.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” You asked. He chuckled on the other line.

“Do you still think you’re ahead?” He asked. You scoffed. “Ahead of what?” You asked with a smile. He sighed. “You know you left something behind in the limo,” he said. You raised a brow leaning your elbow that held your phone on the counter.

“Oh really. What did I leave?” You asked.

“You left an earring,” he said. You heard him sniff through the other line. “Still smells like you,” he hummed. “Do you want it back?” He asked. You shook your head. “I don’t need it,” you said with a shrug. “You can keep it,” you responded nonchalantly.

“Are you sure?” He asked. You nodded. “Positive. It’s yours to keep,” you said. Johnny remained quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“Yuta left the country,” he said. “Again,”

“His mother made him follow her home. I guess she’ll handle things in Japan,” he said you remained quiet just listening to him speak. “What did you say to make her come?” He asked. “I know Yuta hates his mother but she hates him too so how did you make it possible?” He asked.

“No one can refuse a check,” you said.

“Fair,” he said. “So what are your plans for Jaehyun? I mean I’m assuming you’re saving him for last correct?” He asked. Before you spoke it had not clicked in your brain why Taeyong would be last. Jisung knew eventually Johnny would catch onto you. He’d put enough pieces together to figure out your plan. And because of your intense history with Jaehyun, he’d just assume you’d be more dramatic, a theatrical ending. But Jaehyun being next and Taeyong being last is something he’d never seen coming.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said biting back your smile. You played with the corner of the loose leaf. Johnny chuckled. “Okay, Y/n I’ll continue to play along with you. I enjoy these games we play together,” he said.

“Which ones? The one where you beg or the ones where you have to chase me?” You asked your tongue flirtatiously licked your teeth, a smile on your lips.

“Both,” he responded. “I win either way,” you said with a shrug.

“Not this time,” is all he said sternly before he hung up. The tone of his voice knocked you off balance for a moment but you decided to ignore it. Tomorrow was going to be a big day and a start to a very long week.

You had been preparing yourself mainly for Jaehyun and now you felt ready enough to face him and everything he did to you.

You checked the loose leaf paper staring down at his name. You drew a heart next to his name. Just as you crossed it out your phone rang. You glanced over checking it, a call from Jisung.

"Hello?" you answered. "I thought you were only going to text me," you said. "It's about Jaehyun, he may be harder than we thought," Jisung said slight panic in his voice. It made you sit up a raised brow in your features. "How so? I thought we worked everything through," you said.

"He has a girlfriend," he said. You let out a breath releasing a soft chuckle. "Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"How much do you think I can send her to make her quietly leave him?" you asked checking your nails. Jisung stood quiet most likely thinking of a new plan. "She is in your English lecture. Her name is Miyeon," he said sending you her contact information including her social media. You stood up walking over to your couch. You picked up your iPad as well. You sat on the couch wine in your hand and phone to your ear.

"Great. I'll make a call and everything should be handled by morning," you said confidently. "You're going to call her now? It's eleven-thirty," Jisung said surprised. You shrugged brushing off his comments. "She's definitely awake if she's dating Jaehyun," you said. "Anyways I'll call you after to update you. We can come up with a new plan," you said. Jisung sighed. "Alright," he said before you hung up.

You leaned over to the lamp table grabbing the telephone. You dialed her number placing it to your ear. You heard it has it rang soon after a few rings she picked up.

"Hello?" you heard her soft voice.

"Hi is this Choi Miyeon?" you asked your voice preppier than before.

"Yes this is she," she responded waiting for your reason for calling.

"Miyeon I'd like to make you an offer," you said. "What for?" she asked confused. "You dating Jung Jaehyun right?" you asked. "Yes, why?" she asked completely lost.

"I'd like to offer you a great sum to break off your relationship," you said calmly. You heard the gasp in her voice. "What?" she asked. You let out a frustrated sigh. "I'd give you a lot of money to leave him," you said.

"What? Who are you?" she asked a bit of fear in her voice. "Look I can offer you twenty grand," you said to her annoyed. She remained quiet on the other line. "Thirty," she said back.

"Ten and I'll pay for a trip for you and your girlfriends," you said back quickly. You heard her hum. "Deal," she said. "I'll the money delivered in cash. How do the Maldives sound?" you asked booking the trip on your iPad. "Holiday break?" you asked. "Yes," she responded.

"Okay before I send you anything I need proof and if you lie to me you don't want to find out," you said sternly. Miyeon laughed, "Girl you're paying for my girl's trip and a good chunk of my tuition. I'll do anything you ask if you pay," she said.

"Noted," you said with a smile. You continued to text Wendy as you spoke to her. "I'm sending my assistant over now. She'll provide you the money and tickets. You will provide her proof. Call this number when you do," you said back. "Will do," she said and then hung up.

You went to call Jisung before you received a text.

#8- I hope you are happy.

Y/n- Why wouldn't I be. I had a great time on our date.

#8- I'll kill you bitch.

Y/n- Get in line.

Read

#8- Johnny is gonna ruin you.

Y/n- I'd like to see him and you try.

You chuckled going to call Jisung as you waited for Miyeon to call back and when she did you were more than ready for Jaehyun.

To Be Continued... Everything is about to change.

Merry Christmas.

I hope you enjoyed part 8 of my 10-part series Easy A. I tried to get this one out before Christmas passed but with finals, I was really busy so I'm finishing this Christmas Eve. Hopefully, with the added free time I can finish this series before January. Continue to support the series, please! And I'll see you guys in part 9. I can't believe it's almost over.

Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore @toroufriteh

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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.

#nct #nct x reader #yuta #yuta x reader #yuta fic #yuta fluff #yuta angst #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct angst #nct fluff

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kpopcafeeee · 8 months

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I have eyes everywhere-yuta

Paring: Nakamoto Yuta x fem!reader

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

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

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

ENJOYYYYY😏😏😏

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

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

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

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

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

At least you got a good fuck and a movie after

END OF STORYYY

I hoped you liked it 😏

By: kpopcafeeee

#yuta x reader #yuta nakamoto #yuta nct #yuta smut #yuta angst #yuta fluff #yuta scenarios #nct hard hours #nct smut

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pipsqueak1507 · 10 months

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My dude is so beautiful

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epinebleue · 7 months

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bad at love (m) | nakamoto yuta

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

pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader (female)

genre: cheating!au, mature, angst.

warnings: cheating, explicit sexual context.

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

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

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

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

You’re just so freaking attractive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taeil’s right, he’s a creep.

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

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

“You’re staring.”

Your words snap him out of his gawking.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring.”

You repeat, slower this time.

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

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

Fuck, he’s so pathetic.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats.

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

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

You’re getting off on his suffering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you got a condom?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still doesn’t know your name.

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

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

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

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

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

Wait, baby?

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

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

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Boyfriend as in… partner.”

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

“We just had sex.”

“We did.”

“And you have a boyfriend?”

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

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

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

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Obviously not, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

You knock on his door hours later, all smiley.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You beg him to do something, anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Number one, Yuta can’t catch feelings.

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

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

At least, at first.

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

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

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

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

Maybe he’s breaking the first rule, too.

“Do you love him?”

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

“I do.”

Somehow, your answer sinks his heart further.

“Are you happy?”

“Do you think I’m not?”

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

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

Yuta answers before he can even think of the consequences.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s complete bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We talked about this.”

“I know, I fucking know!”

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

“We could.”

God, he must sound pathetic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The action makes you shiver.

“Tell me this is over again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turn around, surprised and offended at equal parts.

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

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

“You’re pathetic.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No reposting or translations allowed.

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