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heartpascal · 2 years

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something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

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Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

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“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

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too-deviant · 7 months

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idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.

Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.

You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.

The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence.

But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?

Apparently not.

After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway.

Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew.

It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway.

Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off.

“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said.

So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy.

But you weren’t happy.

Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.

It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin.

And yet, you were still pissed off.

“Why?”

Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him.

You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in.

You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet?

“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?”

He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”

You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them.

It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —

“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”

“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were.

“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”

You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle.

“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.”

Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain.

The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods.

When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”

“Sorta?”

He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway.

Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.

#@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians

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rrxnjun · 1 year

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i felt younger when we met | n. yuta

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

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

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

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

I. honey, so sweet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Departure?” Yuta assures himself.

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

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

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

“Whatever floats your boat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So…?” you prob him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna–”

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

“I have to say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you nod.

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

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

IV. no matter where you go, somebody follows

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re being unreasonable.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Doyoung-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you two have a fight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you know?” you scoff.

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

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

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

VI. and he holds me like a woman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay,” he hums.

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

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

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

VII. he used to sing me sweet melodies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VIII. broke, but gave all money to an airline

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A naive kid.

That’s what you are.

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

So this was the problem all along, you think.

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

Delusional. That hits the nail on the head.

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

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

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

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

“What? What about him?”

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

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

He’s always gonna break your heart.”

EPILOGUE - try not to abuse your power

Yuta Nakamoto was your hero.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You skip the song.

You park the car.

You get inside your dorm.

You live your life.

#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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persephoneflowerpetals · 2 months

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I just wanna give a HUMONGOUS thank you to all my mutuals that have been drawing my Persephone recently!!!

(Special shoutouts to: @batatadoce666 @pastelpousay @jelly-drop-buttons and @donttouchhadesbaklava 💕💕💕💕 yall pls go follow them they’re so amazing and talented!!!)

Like, it literally just blows and boggles my mind that people actually like her that much lol! Like, someone actually went out of their way to take the time to draw her! That’s just…AAAA it makes me wanna cry happy tears!!! 🥹❤️ I know it’s probably not that big a deal, but it really means the world to me! Legit I’ve saved every single drawing of Persephone just so I can admire them when I’m not on tumblr lol!

I honestly didn’t think people would actually pay attention to this blog when I started it, let alone notice my dumb little Persephone OC lol! It’s crazy! I swear I got like an “imposter syndrome” thing going on because I swear I feel like I’m not worthy of people wanting to make drawings of her lol! I’m truly grateful and honored to have yall do that! Like I just don’t have words to describe how happy that makes me!

I’ve made a lot of mutual friends on here over the past year that have AMAZING ocs and self insert ocs and I swear if I had the skills and patience and time to draw them all, I 100% would!!! Fr I really want to, but ugh these hands are only good for typing words lmao 😭! But hey, I’ll figure something out! I feel like I should be giving back y’know? You guys deserve oc art wayyyy more than me lol! ❤️

I also want to say that I’m very grateful for all my mutuals and followers and just thank you!!!! You guys make my day and I love all of you and I SEE all of you when you pop up in my notifications! I seriously appreciate you guys wanting to read my fics and dumb random posts and my ramblings lol! I created this blog mainly to indulge in my self ship with Hades (I mean…obviously because I’m so obsessed with him at this point lmao) and share it with other self shippers and Hades and Disney’s Hercules fans so we can not only be fans together lol, but so we can inspire each other to create and indulge in what we love to do like writing or art or edits or just whatever! I’m really glad I could make that happen!

Not to get too deep or off topic here, but I honestly don’t have any friends irl. I used to, but eventually my friend group got smaller and smaller until I ended up basically alone (oof trying not to cry rn aaaa 🥹). So, I just wanna say that despite the fact that I don’t know any of you personally or irl, I consider you all my friends and you all make me so happy! I really really enjoy chatting with you guys and answering asks and seeing your tags and comments and stuff! I feel so accepted here so thank you for making feel a little less lonely in this big crazy world lol! ❤️❤️❤️

#I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❣️❣️❣️#🌸 persephone posts 🌸#rambles #long ramble

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 years

Note

With your language AU, I remember watching a video about a guy speaking angrily nonesense in an Indian accent and people thinking he was very angry. Imagine this as the Creator speaks angry gibberish to people and they just assume that the Creator is cursing them or something. (Or like when they speak gibberish to babies and everyone's like, "Aw the Creator is teaching that baby their divine language")

*AUDIENCE DRAMATICALLY GASPS.

✨️I look pretty good for a dead bitch✨️

She's alivveee!!!

Whats up i almost passed away from sheer academic workload, but im not in the ground yet 🥰 And with drafts outta my ass! :D

Hope yall ready for ur regularly scheduled Bullshit Genshin Sagau <3

SANDBEES THATS SUCH A GOOD USERNAME & ALSO SORRY I ANSWERED THIS SO FUCKING LATE JESUSSSSS 💀💀💀

SORRY ABT THE POLL I CANT BELIEVE I COULDNT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DELETE IT IM FUCKING CRYING I WOULD DO THIS-

Well at least i can do polls thru this in the future?? Idk tumblr is ass so we'll see how this accidental test works out...

☆

So these were the first thngs i thought of and its not super long bc ASKERS R GENIUSES OKAY

SOMTIMES I JUST WANNA PROFUSELY THANK U GUYS AS A REPLY FOR SHARING WITH THE CLASS THRU MY BLOG 💖💘💫

Saw the gif and couldnt help but think this is how ppl like Alhaitham or Diluc would react to u "speaking ur langauge"

"Our langauage" aka being a SIM 💀

◇

Stop Albedo would ask you to teach him ur lang/grammar rules 😭

What u gonna do when Zhongli asks you to teach him some words-

OH NO

NO DONT PASS ON YOUR BULLSHIT LMAO

U GIVING ZHONGLI SOME STUPID SIM WORD LIKE

Your ass: "GIGGLABAH means beautiful :) "✨️

Zhongli: "Oh thank you, how different from our own version, so excited sounding..."

You walk by him strolling the harbor and he just smiles at you and says

"You look gigglabah today my liege."

HIS REGAL FACE AND FANCY WALK WITH HIS HAND BEHIND HIS BACK AND EVERYTHING

(honestly ppl paint him as oblivious but he kinda seemed like the type of bastard who seems like he's not aware but sometimes he secretly knows the truth, he's just getting too much amusement out of it to stop doing it, LOL he does shit like the above to see YOUR reaction- LMAO)

◇

You're a maniac pls tell me u dont pass on simlish to all the serious characters-

XIAO WOULD SECRETLY THINK IT SOUNDS GOOFY BUT WANT TO BE INVOLVED BC ITS YOU ANYWAY LMAO

SO HE'S JUST SLIGHTLY SQUIRMING AND GETTIN PINK EVERYTIME HE SAYS A STUPID SIM WORD BC HE FEELS LIKE A GOOF HAHA

(& he's not the only one, others too like Kaveh, YELAN, Ningguang, Nahida, DILUC, AYAKA LMAO-)

◇

Some ppl i could see taking ur gibberish bullshittery and whether they believe its real or not is irrelevant bc theyre using it anyway-

And i dont mean in a good way 😭

LIKE IM THINKING OF VENTI.

CRAZY BARD INCLUDING SIMLISH ASS GIBBERISH WORDS IN HIS SONGS BC OF YOU

"Be cheerful like the hugkukie,

and may your cup never leaky!"

And Diluc loves you.

Really he does, deeper than he thinks-

But his eye is twitching LMAOO

◇

(Ok but if you did like multiple of these language shenanigans thruout the asks ive gotten, Kaeya would literally grow so fond of you and associate you with goofy funny shit that makes him laugh so hard that everytime he sees you he automatically is beaming with a smile, or trying to supress a warm grin- this got away from me but its 1:44am for me rn so i would love a smiley Kaeya rn -)

♡

Speaking language bs I have my 2nd oral exam for spanish tomorrow, pls send whatever good vibes u got and i am also really open to prayers from any religion as well. sobs

Hope anyone got any enjoyment out of my response bc tbh the ask is what rlly matters to me atp lmao

Until the next shenanigan-

Safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds mwah ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

#hope u guys like those follower event posts when they here 😖🙏#so u would think the opposite but no-#those headcanons r gonna be so much more lore than u probably wanted #and the oneshot the opposite 💀#more absolute baffoonery than u ever wanted from me #genshin impact #genshin sagau #my asks #sagau #genshin imagines #genshin isekai #genshin sagau language barrier au #genshin sagau language au #should i attempt to make these tags #does it even matter or is it a fruitless endeavor #the language brainrot is endless #yall have lost brain cells reading my writing i stg #genshin sagau ideas #gender neutral reader

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bratshaws · 10 months

Text

through the hourglass 313.brb x oc

a/n: another shorty but hope yall like it!(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278/279/280/281/282/283/284/285/286/287/288/289/290/291/292/293/294/295/296/297/298/299/300/301

/302/303/304/305/306/307/308/309/310/311

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia

She knows she should wait when he’s free,she knows it, but she couldn’t wait especially after what happened??? After Miranda? She chews her lower lip as she looks down at his contact number on her phone, gardening gloves have been tossed aside as she walks back inside.

She was surprised her fuming hadn’t woken Shells or the kids up.

After a moment of internal debate, Beatrice made a decision. She couldn't wait. She needed to hear Rooster's voice, to share the strange occurrences that had unfolded in his absence. Pulling her phone closer, she took a deep breath and pressed the call button.

The phone rang a few times before Rooster answered, his voice groggy from the late hour. "Bea? Everything okay?"

“Hey…I know it’s late out there,sorry for waking you…”

“No,hey,” he grunts and the bed creaks as he sits up, “Don’t apologize gorgeous. You know I love hearing your voice especially when I’m deployed.”

Beatrice smiled, the warmth in Rooster's voice providing a comforting embrace, even across the miles that separated them. "I just... I needed to talk to you. Something happened, and I couldn't wait."

Rooster's tone shifted to alertness. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, contemplating how to relay the events without causing unnecessary worry. "Miranda came over today. It was... strange, Rooster. She was saying things, trying to create tension or something again. I don't know what her game is…"

“ What did she say?"

Beatrice recounted the encounter, detailing Miranda's cryptic comments with detail, and Rooster listened attentively, remaining silent so his wife could let everything out without being interrupted.

When Beatrice finished, Rooster let out a heavy sigh. "Damn. I wish I was there, Bea. I don't like the sound of this. What did she want?"

"I have no idea," Beatrice admitted, frustration creeping into her voice. "It felt like she was trying to get under my skin, questioning your abilities as a pilot. It was bizarre, Rooster."

Rooster's tone shifted, a mix of annoyance and concern. "Questioning my abilities? What does she have to do with that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. It's like she's trying to stir up trouble again… I don’t know, is…well,is Mark bothering you guys too?”

A pause.

“You…could say that,gorgeous.”

"What's happening with Mark, Rooster?" Beatrice asked, her voice laced with worry.

"...I can’t say over a call baby" Rooster explained. "Too risky.”

“Are you all safe? Right now?”

"Yeah, we're safe for now. Just dealing with some internal issues. I'll fill you I can,I promise.”

Beatrice exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Okay. Just...be careful, Rooster. I don't like the sound of all this."

"Me neither,gorgeous…we’ll be okay," Rooster reassured her “I promise. We can handle…whatever this is.”

Beatrice nodded, even though Rooster couldn't see her. "I know. But it doesn't make it any easier when you're so far away."

"I know,gorgeous…did Miranda…said anything else?”

"Nothing else."

Rooster's voice softened. "I see… Shells is there with you, right?"

"Yeah, Shells has spending some time," Beatrice acknowledged, a small smile touching her lips. "But it's just... I don't want anything jeopardizing the peace we have at home, especially with you away on a mission."

"I know baby. I wish I could do more. Just remember, we're a team, no matter the distance. If anything feels off, trust your instincts, okay?"

"I will, Rooster. Always." she sighs, “I should probably let you go back to sleep.”

Rooster's voice held a comforting note. "I'm not going back to sleep until I know you're okay. Talk to me, Bea. What else is on your mind?"

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share the weight that had settled on her heart. "I just miss you, Rooster. And with all this happening, it feels like the world is a bit shaky."

"I miss you too, Bea. More than you can imagine. But we need to weather this storm, and then I promise I'll come back to you."

Tears welled up in Beatrice's eyes, the longing for Rooster magnified by the distance between them. "I know, Rooster. I just... I worry. About you, about us, about everything."

Rooster's voice softened, "We'll get through this, baby. I'll make it back to you. Just keep our home fires burning, okay?"

"I will," Beatrice whispered, a sniffle escaping her. "I love you, Rooster."

"I love you too, gorgeous. Now, get some rest. We'll talk soon."

After exchanging a few more words, Beatrice reluctantly ended the call. The weight of the conversation lingered in the air, a mix of concern, love, and the underlying uncertainty of the situation. She wiped away a tear, took a deep breath, and dropped her head on top of her folded arms as she rested on the kitchen table.

Jolene whined under her, her huge head plopping on Bea’s thigh as her paw landed on the human’s knee.

Beatrice absentmindedly ran her fingers through Jolene's fur, finding solace in the comforting presence of her loyal companion. As she sat there, Beatrice's mind danced between the happenings of the day.The encounter with Miranda left a lingering unease, like when you swallow bitter medicine. She couldn't shake the feeling that something ominous lurked beneath the surface, something she couldn't quite grasp.

But why?

Why?

Why were Miranda and Mark so obsessed with them? This has been happening for so long she couldn’t even figure out a fair reason to.

"You doing okay, Bea?" Shells finally broke the quietude.

“Ah!’ Bea jumped, turning around to see Shells standing by the kitchen door, holding the twins to her chest while Nicole wobbled over to her mother. Bea sighed, picking Nicole up and standing to check on the other two, “Sorry,I…didn’t hear you.”

Shells grinned, gently rocking the twins in her arms. "No worries, Bea. You looked lost in thought. Everything okay?"

Beatrice sighed, her gaze drifting towards the window as if seeking answers in the starlit sky. "I just had a chat with Rooster. Miranda's visit today... it's been lingering on my mind. I can't shake this feeling of unease."

“...Miranda was here?”

“Oh,oh yeah you…were all asleep on the couch…you didn’t hear me by the door?”

Shells shook her head, a perplexed expression on her face. "No, I must've been out like a light. What happened with Miranda?"

Beatrice recounted the encounter with Miranda, and Shells listened attentively, her brow furrowing as she processed the information.

"That's weird," Shells commented, her eyes narrowing in thought. "But…considering everything,I’m not surprised.”

Beatrice shrugged, her eyes reflecting the weariness that had settled into her bones. "I wish I knew what she wanted, Shells. Rooster mentioned some internal issues in the squadron, and now this with Miranda"

Shells gently rocked the twins, a thoughtful look on her face. "Maybe we should beat her up."

“Shells!”

“Beat er up!” Nicole giggled, throwing her little fists up.

“No-Shells,please don’t mention violence in front of my kids.”

Shells chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, alright. No violence in front of the kids. We'll just have to outsmart her. Maybe throw her off with kindness or confuse her with some gardening trivia."

Beatrice rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "I appreciate the sentiment, Shells, but I just want things to settle down. Between Rooster being away, the breach, and now Miranda's mysterious antics, its a lot."

Shells nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's a lot to handle. But if Miranda wants to play games, she'll soon find out she picked the wrong opponents."

The twins, sensing the shift in energy, began to squirm in Shells' arms. Aurora reached out towards Beatrice, her tiny fingers trying to grasp onto her mother's hair.

"Looks like they want you, Bea," Shells chuckled, carefully passing the twins back to their mother as Bea but Nicole down. "I'll make some coffee. We might need it for our plotting against Miranda."

Beatrice cradled the twins in her arms, planting a soft kiss on each of their foreheads. "Thanks, Shells. I’d like that."

"Any word from Rooster?" Shells asked, as she marched over to the coffee maker, letting Bea handle the babies for a little while.

“I called him a few minutes ago."

“Yeah?”

“What did he say?”

“That I should listen to my gut if something feels off,” Bea smiles softly as she places the twins down on their bouncers a bit before preparing herself to feed them while Nicole walked over to her high chair, waiting to be settled.

Shells looked at her from the coffee maker,smirking a bit, “Well he doesn’t have to worry about that,does he? Gut feeling is our specialty.”

“It is?”

“I mean,I had a gut feeling you and Rooster would end up together, and surprise to no one, I was right!”

"Yeah, well, your gut feeling about Rooster and me was probably the only one that worked out."

Shells returned to the living room with two steaming mugs of coffee, handing one to Beatrice before taking a seat across from her. "True, I might not be the best fortune teller, but I make a killer cup of coffee. So spill, what's the plan, Bea?"

Beatrice puts Nicole on her high chair and then tilts her head ‘Plan?”

Shells took a thoughtful sip of her coffee, her eyes locking onto Beatrice's. "You know, for dealing with Miranda. What's our strategy? Besides not beating her up, of course."

"I'm not sure, Shells. If she wants drama, let's not give it to her."

Shells leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Ignoring her works for so long. Then what?"

Beatrice sighed, the weight of the situation settling back onto her shoulders. "I don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she's getting to us. Let's focus on our own circle.But for now, let's not let Miranda's games distract us."

“Hmmm…”

“I know you hate that idea.”

“You are absolutely right.” Shells says, “I hate it.“I’m just sayin’ we need to be proactive.”

“I know…”

“Yeah..” Shells pulls out her phone, “Good thing I called Aunt Penny then! She can give us some advice,” if she noticed Bea’s wide eyed look she ignored it and kept on talking “You know she can help us out.’

“Shells.”

“And Mav.” oh God. “He can help us too!”

“Shells….”

“Yeah,we have this in the bag!” Shells laughs, “Anyway,coffee,right?”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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ithinkabouttzu · 2 years

Note

Hey! It's the Anon who sent you the request privately for BoB ship and TP ship. If doing both is too much for you, I'll happily take BoB for now.

Hi!!! Thank you honey for the request, i try to do only one ship at a time just so you can get the best descriptions as possible, but please send me another ask for the pacific and i will get to it ofc!! 🫶🏻

And you did not overstep or make me uncomfy at all! the more descriptive the better ! :)

I ship you with….

Dick Winters!

- Okay so let me explain first

- but he admires you sm, literally thinks you are the smartest and strongest person he knows

- He thinks you are just so wifey material and can’t wait to marry you (which happens very quickly)

- He thought you were so beautiful when he first saw you and he knew he had to say something to you before another guy did

- You both love taking care of eachother and yalls relationship is just so loving and sweet ;)

- You guys def have an awesome backyard where you can host the best barbecues and enjoy the best sunset views together

- btw he loves your baking like soooo much

- Dick is very attentive to you, and overtime he can start tell when you’re sad or feeling down even when you don’t admit it

- He is very big on communication and always encourages you to tell him if something’s wrong or asking for help, He just wants to make you feel happy and will try his hardest for that to happen, he knows that’s a struggle for you but is very patient and willing to wait until you are comfortable enough to tell him what’s going on

- Everynight before you guys go to bed, he has this routine where he just tells you how much he loves you and how proud he is of you. ( he adores you so much omg)

- He will literally scold you like a child if you tell him you aren’t good enough for him

- You are each others safe space and if you or him need someone to talk to both are going to be there with open arms

- (y’all would be such good parents and yalls future kids would be SO lucky oml)

- Both of you are very emotionally mature and sometimes hold your feelings in for others sake, together i feel like you guys can just be yourselves completely and don’t have to hold back you emotions

- And when you guys fight you guys are very committed to getting to the root of the issue so they never last for too long ( plus you guys love eachother too much for that)

- He thinks that you are such a selfless person (which you are ofc) and wants to spoil you with the best hugs and kisses he can give. (he also just wants to see you complain or be selfish for once, you deserve it!)

- And pls invite me over because i KNOW that house of y’all’s is gonna be✨spotless ✨

- He wouldn’t admit it but He loves when you read to him and finds it so peaceful, ik it sounds cringy but he could fall asleep to your voice so fast.

- canon: You guys have a shared diary where you can both share your thoughts, stories, emotions, and experiences with no fear of someone else judging you. and when you guys get into an argument or a dispute, he likes to read it and try to see your point of view

- He values those special little moments between you two so much, you guys hold a special relationship and you both have your own unique characteristics that ONLY you guys share with eachother

- very healthy relationship and a good example to other relationships in the friend group (literally the ideal husband/wife

- Your beauty literally makes him speechless everyday, he loves you to the moon and back and holds you so dear to his heart, he would literally go to the face of this earth if that means it would make you smile :)

Hii i hope you love this sweetie!! I enjoyed writing this sm and make sure to ask for a pacific ship too!! Have a lovely day!! 💞

#band of brothers #band of brothers ships #ships #ithinkabouttzu #dick winters

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like-wuatafauq · 4 months

Note

Wtf??? I'm sorry that your ex was so dismissive about your culture I can't imagine how hurtful that must've been 'cuz that's such an important part of who you are... and for her to judge your accent is super messed up :(

Your background is not something to be ashamed of or try to suppress for someone else's comfort

I'm bilingual too so I totally get the struggle of switching it back and forth 🥹

I actually feel like my Indonesian is getting a bit rusty these days since I use English so much more now. But I've been making more of an effort to practice it regularly so I think I'm starting to find a good balance again. I'm also trying to learn German atm and I only know a handful of words so far :)

Oh and I've actually been listening to a lot of Spanish songs and they're so good 😩

Idk what half the words mean but I be out here dancing along anyway so if you have any recs for artists or songs I should check out pls do share!!!

Also I made over 100+ online friends just last night. I think I might've overdone it a bit but it was so much fun! A lot of them are younger than me so I'm out here feeling like a proud internet mama

They're all my virtual children now >:)

And yesss I'm a proud high femme so if I ever go to a pride event I'd be rocking all the skirts and dresses. I love anything pink or frilly it just makes me feel like a pretty princess 🙂‍↕️

From ♡

Oh dude it was so bad I only cooked her mexican food once...and that's a whole other story but I ended up not cooking mexican food for her....ever...ever again..im not exaggerating (not including burritos or tacos but even on those I didn't use my mexican recipes) it was bad... and I was like oh god! They never showed this side of them before!! I can't be with them wtf!!! And like obviously that was on top of how mean they were towards me so like it was just bad fr. however she's beside the point now, it's just ik for a fact when I open up to someone again I'm gonna have to explain how bad it really was and oooof. But hey as long as it gets me to be open to the right person! someone who deserves aaaaalllll of my love <3 so I can put her in the past, once someone is able to understand why I would react certain ways and my fears they'll know i dont actually think about her, just trauma awareness :)

Also knowing Indonesian sounds super cool! Even if you are a bit rusty that's okay! German is also pretty cool I hope you pick it up quickly 😎I believe in you!

As for spanish music.... guys.... do not ask me this... that's literally 90% of what I listen to in the car or when I'm cooking lmaooo

I'm so happy you made so many queer friends how did you do it so quickly tho?????? Sure online but how???? Lmaoo

I looooooovvveeeeee high femmesssss I don't care if it's goth, dark,pastel,pinky,cottage core,cowgirl, witchy core aesthetic or latina & other culture high femme. As long as it's femme like it just aghhhhhhjjj (of course I don't expect someone to be that way all the time) but mainly that being their look just always gets me ,you girlies are amazing. I could never do what yall do.

#anon ask #anon #ask #high femme #femme #butch4femme #congrats on your new queer friends!!!#sorry i had bad internet so some things on tumblr wouldnt load

0 notes

raysofcrosby · 2 years

Note

Okay so here's some backstory to help you understand things a bit better:

1. I work in the prep kitchen of a popular restaurant in a tourist town.

2. 90% of the workers here are seasonal employees so my work supplies housing

3. The full work season is 6 months. Most employees come back year after year

4. It's my 2nd year here, but 1st time as a prep chef. (I was a dishwasher last time)

It's a bit of a story so buckle up babes.

IM SO SORRY IM JUST NOW ANSWERING THIS BUT BESTIE PLS THAT WAS A ROLLER COASTER OF SUPRISES ALSFKLSD ((also your job sounds super cool)) BUT LIKE PLS i do not seeing this playing out v well at all 😭💀

((the rest of the story is beneath the cut, i just put my reply above it, but yall i s2g read ths 😭😭😭))

Alright now lets get into it, about halfway into the 2nd month a bunch of line cooks finally arrived. One of the cooks, let's call him O, when he saw me instantly started flirting. Very icky. But luckily another employee was in the same room and was like dude stop. I later found out that O is a fuckboy major player new girl every season kinda guy. So he kinda leaves me alone after that. A couple of sweeties and darling every once in a while -and even once called me mama- but that's really it, and he does this with every female employee and we all give him shit back. Once he realizes we aren't interested he won't continue to try anything so he's not as bad as it sounds, promise.

About halfway through the season when the last of the line cooks show up the pet names stop entirely for everyone. Strange, but you know whatever, then one day when I'm at the only grocery store in town I see him, holding hands, with the new fry cook (her first year here too). Let's call her A. Suddenly it all made sense. You see a couple days ago she came to the prep kitchen and asked my coworker to help her carry the bucket of oil up to the line he said yeah and as they're walking away I hear her say "thanks you're the only nice guy here, well you and O, Don't tell him I said that though!". So now they're together, mind you we only have 3 months left till end of season.

About half 3 weeks ago A came down to the prep kitchen and started talking to my coworker about how she was stressed and couldn't find a dress in time and how she needs some help with some paperwork...for the wedding. That she's having... In 2 weeks. I was not very discreet in my eavesdropping because I shit you not I was slicing onions and I cut my finger when she said that. Completely shocked. But hey I got to wear my first finger condom that day. They've been together for less than 3 months and now O and A are getting married (nice ring by the way, very big).

But about a week ago I heard her talking to another line cook in passing and they asked A what she was going to name the twins. If I wasn't carrying a case of avocados I would have totally stayed in the room longer. But I was in denial because I somehow convinced myself that I didn't hear what I heard. But two days ago when she was standing next to me having a conversation with my coworkers she said the line "sweets aren't good when you're pregnant". That pretty much confirmed everything for me. Now it makes sense as to why they were getting married so quickly. Today was their wedding and he came in for the evening shift when I was on my way out he says very quietly and dare I say a little melancholically to my coworker "aren't you happy for me" let me tell you I could not have left that locker room quicker.

So that's it. That's the drama going on in the back of house at a restaurant. That's one story of many, if you ever want to hear more I'm always down to share lol -🤭

#anon #answered #🤭 anon

0 notes

suguruverse · 4 years

Note

hi!! i really loved your "being best friends with the inarizaki trio" and i was wondering if you could do a "being best friends with tanaka and nishinoya". thank you!!!!

— BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH TANAKA AND NISHINOYA

includes - nishinoya yuu and tanaka ryuunosuke

a/n - hi bub!! i’m so happy you liked my post about being bsfs w the inarizaki trio pls enjoy <33

google search bar: ‘define loud and annoying”

- a pic of your guys showed up <3

- jesus christ these boys are so protective over you it’s crazy

- 2 hype men for the price of 1

- sneaking out and getting food with them at 2am

- tutoring them so they can go to training camps

- YALL BITE EACH OTHER SO MUCH its basically yalls love language

- they literally start complaining if you don’t go to their games

- they always fight over who’s spare jersey you should wear

- one time you got a jersey that had ‘9′ on it because it was their numbers but added together but they misunderstood and thought you were supporting kageyama

- kageyama was so confused why his upperclassmen where glaring at him whenever he entered a room

- tanaka and noya forced kageyama to buy them meat buns after practice

- poor bby was so lost but he still did it anyways

- they think you look hot when you’re mad

- so. many. petnames.

- like at this point they don’t ever call you by your real name

- feeling insecure? sad? lonely? yeah not on their watch

- be prepared for cuddles, snacks and hugs galore

- if you’re crying they do 2 things:

1. threatens whoever or whatever made you cry no matter what is

2. hold you so tightly and declare their undying love for you and maybe a lil forehead kisses

- MOVIE NIGHTS EVERY WEEKEND

- scares you as much as they can because they love your reactions

- they take up 80% of your free time because they insist that you can’t handle being without them

- one time you cancelled on them to hang out with saeko for a girl’s day and 20 minutes into your shopping trip you saw them running straight towards you

- you tried to run away but you were outnumbered </3

- always sharing snacks at the back of the classroom

- they always tell you to stay away from other boys because they’re gross and don’t deserve you

- but if you do get a boyfriend, 9 times out of time, they would hate him

- to them, you’re their soulmate, bestfriend and everything in between

- and this musty boy thinks he’s good enough for you? no <3

- they’re the type of people to give backhanded compliments

- but they never take it too far because this is still the person you chose and they SOMETIMES respect that

- but if a miracle happens and they do actually like your partner then prepared to be teased 24/7 (as if you don’t already get teased)

- also for some reason if they ever post chaotic groups pics of you guys and they tag you? it’s not even in you, it’s on their buttcheek

- ceos of platonic flirting and i love yous

- at the end of the day, they are the most loyal, loving and supportive best friends you’ll ever have

- pls their comments on your ig posts *chefs kiss*

- its always them hyping you up

your comment section:

okay best friend, get it i guess

marry me??

please step on me i would do anything

LICK ME TEASE ME TOUCH ME FUCK ME

for any of the boys in this comment section. go choke they’re mine 😋

did you take my hoodie?

choke me

lol sit on my face

YEAH THATS MY BEST FRIEND YALL SUCK IT

gc name: soulmate shit *insert lip bite emoji* anyways this is a convo before a party

noya; hey hotties

tanaka; i just took a massive dump and i think i just lost 10 kilos

noya; what’s it like being a fucking idiot NOW WHERES MY BABY 😩🥰

tanaka; i thought i was your baby

noya; no ❤️

noya; babe

noya; my dear

noya; my love

noya; honey

noya; cupcake

noya; my sweet pea

noya; schnookums

tanaka; sweetheart please just answer

you; i have arisen from the dead

tanaka; lol same what are y’all wearing send pics

*the three of you guys send pics*

you; TWINS

noya; TWINS

tanaka; TWINS

noya; babe

you; yesss

noya; WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE LOOKING SO DAMN FINE ALL THE TIME

tanaka; she’s even wearing the necklace we got for their bday 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

you; you guys like or should i change??

tanaka; pump ya brakes do not change you’ll be doing everyone a favour by blessing them with your looks 😌😌

noya; bubs pls don’t. we get free drinks when you dress sexy 😾

you; i gotchu

tanaka; glad doing business with you 🤝

noya; we on our way now angel

you; okay see you soon bubba 🥰

noya; KENSKDKWHEIDNEOWJ

noya; okay see you

536 notes · View notes

seongsangi · 4 years

Text

just catching up

YOOO this is the first smut im posting... lemme know how yall feel pls

pairing: jaehyun x reader

summary: you’ve had a small crush on jaehyun since high school but haven’t seen him in three years. you guys reconnect at a party and things go from there...

word count: 7.4k+

genre: smut bro just smut

warnings: drinking and smoking (PLEASE be responsible when doing either/or)

In the back of your mind, you've always had a little thing for Jaehyun. You first met him in high school, where you had a few classes together over the years. You and him never developed into anything other than classmates, as he hung out with a different crowd than you did. Not a bad crowd, just not the same friend group. You usually stuck to your own circle of friends in high school, and so did he. In class, you would gravitate towards each other for group projects or help each other with assignments and homework, but you both never went beyond that. It's not like you had an undying love for him, but you couldn't deny that he was smart, funny, always willing to help when you were confused, always managed to make you laugh or put a smile on your face when class got boring, and was extremely attractive as a bonus. Outside of class, you'd only see him in passing; maybe you wanted to get to know him a little better, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way, so you never acted on it. After graduation, you both went to different colleges. You stayed in the same state whereas he moved away, and your small crush eventually faded.

It is now your junior year in college, and you still kept in contact with some of your friends from high school. It's winter break and they wanted to go to a New Years Eve party tonight to ring in the new decade. You were excited, you wanted to go out and have a little fun, maybe get a little drunk to celebrate acing the long finals you had to take. As you made your way into the house, your friends scattered around, saying hey to people they haven't seen since graduation. You headed straight for the kitchen to make yourself a drink, no time to waste. You wanted to start off light before getting too fucked up, and you were so glad you weren't the designated driver tonight.

Drink in hand, you walk around the house and recognize so many faces from high school. You never really talked to these people, but your graduating class wasn't that big so you didn't have to really know them to know them. The party was in your hometown, where you all graduated and people came home from college for winter break. There actually weren't very many people you didn't recognize. You exchanged greetings with a few and chatted with them just to pass the time, but the music was so loud you couldn't really hear much of what they were saying.

A few mixed drinks in, you found a spot in the corner of the living room, looking around for your friends to make sure they were okay. Parties weren't really your thing since you were still a bit awkward around people and didn't socialize as much as the rest of your friends. Being alone wasn't that bad either, as long as you had something to keep your mind buzzing. As you scanned the room, the front door opened and the party got even louder as people began greeting the crowd that just walked in. Jaehyun and his friends seemed to steal the show, and you couldn't keep your eyes off him. Clad in an all black outfit, you could tell he got much taller and more muscular since the last time you saw him. He walked in with four other guys you recognize as part of his friend group, but his smile alone lights up the room, at least to you. You suddenly feel a bit shy, but you don't know why. He hasn't even said a word to you and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Three years doesn't seem like a long time, but he definitely looks even more attractive than before and you start to wonder what he would look like without his clothes — wait, what the fuck?

Why were you thinking of him in that way? He literally just walked through the door and you're already fantasizing about him. You make your way through the crowd, away from Jaehyun and out to the patio where you can calm yourself down a bit. You try to talk yourself through it, yes he's good looking, so good looking, but you haven't talked to each other in a while and there's no telling if he's even the same person from high school. You shouldn't be thinking of him in that way without even having a proper conversation with him. It was just a simple crush, so why did your mind jump so far ahead into getting in bed with him and letting him have his way —

"Y/N?" The sound of your friend calling your name brings you back to your senses. "We're about to take shots, do you wanna come back inside?"

You shrug the indecent thoughts you're having about Jaehyun off and down the rest of the drink in your hand before hurriedly following her back inside to the kitchen. You're definitely tipsy by now, but you're in the mood for more. There are several shot glasses laid out, all filled with Henny to the brim for the taking. It burns every time you drink it, but it's a good burn and hits quick. You grab a glass off the counter and turn to face your friend when you almost collide with the person behind you. You realize it's Jaehyun, and he's beaming down at you with that perfect smile that makes your heart race a bit.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were behind me," you say, taking a step back.

"Y/N? Hey, it's been so long!" he replies, grabbing his own glass and raising it to yours. You clink glasses and take the shot; without fail, it burns like it always does. You wish you had something to chase it with. He offers you his can of Coke, noticing the way you grimace. You gladly take it without thinking and hand it back to him, throat feeling much better after.

"How have you been? How's school going?" he asks, leading you away from the kitchen and back out to the patio where only a few other people are hanging out. You look around for your friend, but she's already made her way in the opposite direction. You weren't sure if you wanted to be alone with him so soon. Your mind was already racing with thoughts you couldn't seem to control.

"I've been good, my classes were kind of hard this semester and I'm just so tired of school but at least we're on break right now, it's much needed. What about you?"

"Tell me about it, I couldn't wait to come to this party. I've pretty much just been staying at home with my family since I haven't been home in a while." You and Jaehyun continue the conversation, talking about your majors and what classes were the hardest for you both this semester. You can feel the alcohol kicking in the longer you talk to him, your head starts to get heavy and you're smiling at everything he says, not that you can help it. You catch him staring at you as you talk about the class you enjoyed the most, listening intently while at the same time you could swear he was checking you out, eyeing you up and down with a look you couldn't decipher. You sit on the edge of the table behind you, hands gripping the edge to help you balance yourself. You're a bit wobbly now that the drinks have taken effect. He notices you're tipsy and chuckles, asking if you feel okay.

"I feel great," you say a bit too happily, making you both laugh. "Actually... I kinda wanna take another shot." He raises an eyebrow at you, seeing as how your legs stumble a bit as you start walking, but doesn't stop you as you make your way to the kitchen and take one of the glasses left on the counter. You pour yourself another shot, turning to look back at him and nodding your head for him to take one too. "Only if you want," not trying to pressure him. He smiles and raises the glass so you can pour him one. A few mixed drinks and two shots in and you feel unstoppable. You've always been kind of a lightweight compared to your friends, so you decide to chill out with the alcohol for now, not being the best at holding it down in the end anyway.

The music is much louder inside than it is outside. Jaehyun steps closer to you and leans down. "I don't know if you smoke, but I figured I'd ask anyway. Wanna go upstairs?" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of rillos, trying to be discreet from others so they don't ask him to share.

"What, just me and you?" You say with a little tease, leaning on the counter obviously enjoying where this is going. You haven't smoked in a while, but you can definitely handle your weed better than alcohol. Granted, you don't need either of them to have a good time, but you surely do when you have both, so why not spice things up a bit?

"Yeah, just me and you," he replies with a smirk of his own. "I was gonna use this on my own when I could find a time to get away from my friends, but I think I'd have more fun with you."

You can't help but feel a little giddy, was it the alcohol making you feel this way or was it the fact that you're about to spend time with him in a way you never have before? Maybe it's the way he's looking at you so intensely like he could eat you up right here in this kitchen with all these people around? Maybe you were just imagining things, but you could feel the mutual attraction you both have for each other. You decide not to get too ahead of yourself and just go with the flow. You push yourself off the counter, sauntering through the kitchen, looking behind you and waiting for him to follow with a playful smile. You don't even know the layout of this house, but you head for the stairs where you think there would be less people. Jaehyun stops and talks to someone for a bit, presumably asking if he could go upstairs. You wait at the steps, taking in his figure and the way the black shirt he's wearing hugs his chest and arms so perfectly. He's definitely been putting in work at the gym, you note to yourself. He glances at you as you're waiting for him to finish his conversation. You're getting a bit impatient and mouth for him to hurry up, which makes him boast a chuckle, finally finishing the conversation and following you up the stairs.

"Someone's eager," he says as he leads you to the room at the end of the hallway.

"You have no idea," you reply, a bit under your breath but you know he heard it.

The room you walk into has a bed sitting in the middle, with two huge windows on either side of it and a desk in front of the window on the right. Neither of you reach to turn on the light, seeing as the room is still pretty lit with the moonlight shining through the windows. You don't know whose room it is but you're glad they let you come up here. You felt more comfortable not being around a bunch of people you didn't really talk to in the first place. There's a bathroom to the left, which reminds you that you need to break the seal.

"Hold on, I gotta use the bathroom first." Jaehyun turns on the fan in the room and sits in the chair at the desk, cracking the window open and pulling the blunt and lighter from his pocket.

You check yourself out in the mirror, admiring the way your hair and makeup looks tonight. You wipe your lipstick off, not wanting to get it all over the blunt you were about to smoke with Jaehyun. The reality of the situation hits you. All of a sudden, you're alone with him in this room and you're about to get high with him? How did things move so fast? Not that you were complaining, but you sure did feel very nervous. You felt even more intense butterflies in your stomach, looking towards the bathroom door knowing he would be out there waiting for you. You take a deep breath to try to calm your nerves. You remind yourself you came here to have a good time tonight, you weren't about to ruin the night for yourself.

When you walk out of the bathroom, you notice the way the light is shining on him from the window. He looks so damn good right now and he's not even doing anything, how does he do that? He looks up at you and puts his phone in his pocket, grabbing the blunt and holding it out for you to light it. You realize the bed is too far away from the desk for you to pass the blunt back and forth, so you have no idea where to sit. He makes a move to stand up and let you sit in the chair but you stop him.

"No, it's okay, you can sit there," you assure him. You sit on the edge of the desk, glad that it's big enough so you're not too close to him. You're in a very intimate situation with him already, but you don't know if you could handle being any closer to him than you have to be. You take the first few hits, letting the smoke fill your lungs before it becomes too much. You start coughing, it really has been a while and your throat is getting dry already. He hands you a water bottle - where did that even come from? You pass the blunt to him as you take a sip and he chuckles. "You've smoked before right?" he asks as he takes a long hit.

"Yeah, it's just been a while. I stopped cause I started nursing school."

"Oh shit, should you even be smoking right now? What if they drug test you?" he asks, worried you might get in trouble.

You laugh, thinking it's cute that he's worried about you. "No, they don't do random tests, just once before you start the program." He nods, handing it back to you. You feel like it's too quiet with just the two of you and grab your phone to start playing some music. As the minutes pass by, your head starts to feel lighter and lighter, just the way you like it. Your eyes get droopy and you're staring at him for a bit longer than you should be in between hits. He hasn't noticed yet, but you can't keep your eyes off him. You don't know what's coming over you, he hasn't made a move or come on to you in a way that would make you think he's into you, but you can't help but let your mind wander about the things you'd let him do to you. You let your eyes trail across his body, watching the way he leans on the desk, muscles flexed perfectly in that shirt. He blows smoke out the window and leans back in the chair, facing you with his hand outstretched, handing you the blunt. In that moment, your eyes move to his thighs, spread out and looking like they're inviting you to come sit in his lap. You squeeze your legs together, trying to ignore the urge to take him up on the invitation you imagined he was giving you.

He clears his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts, but the way you're looking at him with those hooded and lust filled eyes doesn't go unnoticed. You try to shake the thoughts away and take the blunt from him, which has gotten a lot smaller and harder to hold. You can't bring yourself to make eye contact with him any more, way too shy to do so after he caught you staring at him, so you stare out the window, watching as a few people leave the party.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to look at you - really look at you since you've been together in the room. He can't deny that he's been attracted to you, even before he saw you at the party tonight. Sure, you went to school together and didn't talk much outside of class, but he was excited to see you everyday in the period you had together. You were smart, one of the smartest in the entire graduating class and always on top of your work. It was something he admired about you, being so hardworking and studious. He would choose you as his partner every time there was a group project, not because he knew you would do a good job but because he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. You always looked so cute when you were confused on an assignment, but you never noticed the way he would look at you. You didn't hang out with the same friend group, but he'd catch himself looking for you in the hallways or in the cafeteria. He wanted to catch a glimpse of that beautiful smile on your face, undoubtedly his favorite thing about you. He didn't know if you felt the same way about him so he never said anything and just let the years pass by.

He didn't expect to see you at the party, but as soon as he did he knew his crush for you had never really gone away. He saw you standing by yourself out on the patio, wondering if he should go out there and say hey. But before he could, your friend called you back inside to take a few shots and he took the chance to "bump" into you. He wasn't going to let the opportunity get away from him again.

And now here you are, sitting on the edge of the desk looking absolutely gorgeous. Doing nothing but doing everything to him at the same time. You were wearing a short black skirt that hugged your figure in all the right ways, which definitely became more voluptuous since the last time he saw you. The low cut crop top you wore had him imagining all the marks and hickeys he would leave if he had the chance. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, taking in the way your thighs were splayed out on the desk, ready for him to kneel down and spread them open, making you feel so good you wouldn't want him to stop. The thought of taking you right here made him clench his jaw and he could feel that his pants were getting too tight. He didn't want to rush anything in case you weren't feeling the same way.

But when he caught you looking at him in the same way he devoured you with his eyes, he knew the feeling was mutual. The words were unspoken, but the look told him everything he needed to know. You were both hesitating, trying to control yourselves, unsure if the next step should be taken just yet.

"Jaehyun," you call out to him, trying to get his attention. "I think it's out."

"Just put it here in the ash tray, I'll throw it away later." He watches as you step off the desk, stretching your whole body after sitting for so long. His eyes trail over your lower body, loving the way the skirt you're wearing rides up as you stretch. Such a simple act starts to get him riled up, and he's thinking about what you'd look like if the pesky little skirt wasn't in the way.

"How do you feel?" he asks, knowing you're already pretty high by the way your eyes are red and hooded.

"I feel great," you reply, and you can't help but laugh out loud, both of you knowing you're already gone.

"That's good, I'm glad you're having fun. You know, I'd rather be here with you than with everyone else downstairs."

You don't know what he means by that - does he want to stay up here? With you? Just the two of you? Your body starts to burn up, indecent thoughts making their way back into your mind. You don't know if he means it in that way or if he just doesn't really enjoy the party, but you're afraid to ask.

"I think it's nice to get away from everyone for a bit. It can get overwhelming. I know my friends are gonna be here for a while so I guess we can stay here for a bit..." you trail, not wanting to sound too desperate to be here with him for a little longer.

You sit back on the desk as he leans back in the chair again, silently inviting you like he did before. You don't know if he's doing this on purpose or if he's really that oblivious, but you wish he would just get the hint that you're feeling him. But you don't know if he wants you like you want him. You both stare at each other intently, waiting for the other person to do something, anything, make a move and let it be known.

He's looking at you with an unreadable look and you're afraid that he doesn't really want to be with you, just that he wants to get away from the party. You can't keep the staring contest going with him, so you grab your phone to change the music.

Suddenly, he leans forward and takes your phone out of your hand and throws it on the bed behind you, leaving you stunned. He gets out of the chair and stands right in front of you, looking down at you as you crane your head to look at him. When did he get so fucking tall? You feel tiny under his glare, looking at him innocently, not sure where things are headed but you sure as hell don't want it to stop. He rests his hands on the edge of the desk, trapping you in between his arms. You tense up, noticing how close his hands are to your thighs and you want nothing more than for him to touch you.

"You're a tease, you know that?" he says with a smirk.

"A what?" you reply nervously. His hands slowly slide up and down your thighs, bringing out the goosebumps from how cold his hands are on your warm skin. Your body is on fire now and your heart starts to race. It's harder to keep eye contact with him now under his smoldering gaze but you can't look away.

"You heard what I said. You're a tease. I see the way you look at me, but you haven't done anything. It's making me crazy watching you hold yourself back." His hands firmly grip your thighs now, pushing them apart so he can stand properly between them. This is the closest he's ever been to you and you don't know what to do or how to react.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, looking anywhere but at his face with that stupid smirk he's got on. He knows you're lying, and you know he knows, but you're too shy to admit it.

He steps away from you, "Okay, I won't push you if you don't want to." He makes a move to head out but you're panicking now - did you just ruin it? Of course you want him, you've wanted him since he stepped inside the door tonight. Now you know he wants you, so why aren't you reciprocating?

You grab his hand before he gets too far away, pulling him back to face you. "I didn't know if you felt the same... so I didn't say anything..." you say, scared that he'll actually leave you hanging.

He resumes his position between your thighs. "Look at me," he says, voice much deeper than it's been all night. You're trying to read his expression, and you can tell he's been holding back too. You take a deep breath - it's now or never.

"Do you .. want me?" you say, holding your breath in case for some reason he doesn't and has just been toying with you.

"I thought you'd never ask," as he crashes his lips onto yours, holding you by the waist and deepening the kiss before you could catch your breath. You can't keep up with him, he's fighting for dominance and all you can do is give in. Your hands grip his shirt as your lips mold together, your neck starting to hurt from craning up so much. His hands move from your waist to your neck, supporting you while wrapping one hand in your hair. He tugs at your bottom lip, before pulling away slowly, lips barely touching as you stare at each other. You're breathing hard, trying to make sense of what just happened. He's still got that damn smirk on his face and you can only look at him, eyes begging for more.

His hand is still wrapped in your hair but he decides to test the waters a bit. He tugs a bit, earning a small sound from you.

"Do you like getting your hair pulled?" he says against your lips. You feebly nod, his grip now much firmer. You're pulling him further and further under your spell, and he loves it. His lips move down and he tugs your head to the left so he can place warm kisses on your neck. His free hand rests on your thigh, squeezing you so close to where you want him most. His lips feel like fire on your neck, his fingers are teasing the hem of your skirt and you can feel your panties getting uncomfortably soaked by his small actions.

His lips trail further down your neck, spreading hot open-mouthed kisses across your chest. He lets go of your hair and pulls your shirt down, exposing a part of your black lace bra. He kisses the top of your breast but doesn't quite reach where you want his lips to be. He's left plenty of marks across your chest already and leaves a dark hickey on your breast before putting your shirt back the way it was.

"Who's the tease now?" You're frustrated at this point. He pulls back a bit to look at the marks he left on your chest and neck, obviously proud of himself. He's going too slow for your liking, so you feel brave enough to take your shirt off yourself, loving the way he's eyeing you as you unhook your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders but still holding the bra up. You spread your legs even further apart and Jaehyun swears he could throw you on the bed right now and have his way with you. But he wants to take it slow and make you beg for it. He wants to see you writhing with pleasure underneath him, needy for his touch,

"Take your shirt off, Jae" you fake pout at him, knowing he's just as eager to get the real party started.

"You take it off for me," he says, knowing you'll have to let go of your bra to take his shirt off. He wants to see all of you and he wants to see it now. You reach for him and run your hands underneath his shirt, caressing his toned abs and reveling in the way they feel under your fingers. Your bra falls completely off at this point and you throw it on the desk, pulling Jaehyun's shirt off soon after. If you thought he looked good underneath the moonlight before, he manages to look even better now. You can't believe this is actually happening. You tug on the waistband of his pants, pulling him closer and wrapping your legs around him.

"You're so pretty, baby" he says, looking into your eyes before he kisses you again. You grab his face and deepen the kiss, taking charge this time, wanting him to know how much you want and need him. He suddenly hoists you up and you yelp, holding onto him by his neck. He throws you on the bed, knocking the wind out of you. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor. You sit up on your elbows, watching Jaehyun as he tugs on your skirt, silently asking if he can take it off.

"Do whatever you want to me, Jaehyun." You don't know where this bold statement came from, but you've got this playful look in your eyes and Jaehyun is ready to make you regret saying that.

"Fuck, you're so hot. You don't know what you do to me." He takes your skirt off, leaving your panties on. He spreads your legs and starts kissing your inner thighs, sending tingles up your spine. He maintains eye contact with you, inching closer to your core, making sure you watch his every move. His large hands keep a hard grip on your thighs and you're getting wetter with each second. Your hand slides down your body, squeezing your breast as a little tease for him, rolling your nipple between your fingers. He continues to leave kisses on your thighs, ignoring where you want him most. You slide your hand under your panties, making sure Jaehyun is watching you this time.

"This is what you do to me," you tease. You're so wet, you can hear the slick as you rub your clit, making Jaehyun growl, listening to you pleasure yourself. If he wasn't going to do anything, you'd just have to do it yourself. Your other hand pulls your panties to the side, exposing your dripping core to him. His eyes become darker as he watches you slide two fingers in with ease. You're so riled up and wet, you don't even need to be prepared. You finger yourself as he watches in between your thighs, giving him a show you know he can't resist. It makes you feel good, knowing he's watching you get off to him. You close your eyes and imagine it's his fingers in you, touching you instead. Better yet, you imagine he's pounding into you nice and slow. You can't wait for him to stop teasing you and to touch you where you need him.

As you're imagining him fucking you, you bite your lip and moan his name softly, trying to turn him on even more. Jaehyun loves the way you look right now. Legs spread, panties to the side, marks all over your neck, chest rising as you breathe hard imagining him inside you right now. He watches your fingers move in and out of your core, your juices coating your fingers and your sex. He thought he could tease you, but you're doing a better job at it than he is. He can't wait any more.

While you're lost in your thoughts, Jaehyun quickly removes your hand from your core and brings it to his lips. He licks everything off your fingers, loving the way you look at him with those innocent eyes. His own eyes roam every inch of your body before he kneels back down. He decides not to take your panties off - there's something so sexy to him about keeping them on. He pulls them to the side and replaces your fingers with his own.

You can't help but let out a loud gasp when he pushes two fingers in. They're much bigger and longer than your own, reaching your sweet spot better than you can. He curls them in a 'come hither' motion as he pumps them in and out, making you buck your hips up from the pleasure. Your elbows are about to give out from sitting up for so long. Suddenly, his lips attack your clit and you fall back on the bed, unable to keep yourself up any longer. Your thighs close in response to him licking and sucking your clit.

"Spread your legs baby, I wanna make you feel good." You don't know if you can keep them open, but you try to do what he says. As he continues pleasuring you with his fingers and his sinful tongue, you let out soft moans and whimpers.

"Fuck, Jae you're so good," you say breathlessly. Your hands are gripping the bedsheets so tightly, needing something to hold on to. When he slips a third finger in, you moan even louder, feeling so full.

"Does that feel good?" You can only whimper as a response, too immersed in the pleasure he's giving you to get your words out. He pulls his fingers out and licks long stripes up your core, spreading your juices all over his tongue and chin. He's watching you intently from between your thighs, seeing the way you can't control yourself and noticing how hard you're gripping the sheets. You say something he can't really make out, and he stops his ministrations for a bit, asking you to repeat what you said. He loves how he's only finger fucked you and ate you for a bit, but you're a mess for him already.

"I want you," you say louder, opening your eyes to look at him. He knows what you mean but he wants you to really beg for it.

"What do you mean baby? What more do you want? You have to tell me." Fuck, how's he gonna call you a tease when he acts like this? He stands up, wiping your wetness from his chin but keeping his fingers on your clit, rubbing in circles. The pleasure on your clit is too much and you let out another loud moan.

"You sound so good moaning for me, I love it." "You're killing me Jae," you cry, so frustrated that he won't get the hint.

You grab his hand, pulling it away from your clit. You move to get on all fours, facing him at the edge of the bed and pulling his fingers into your mouth. You taste yourself on him and lick every inch of him clean, moaning when you see the way he's looking down at you. You look so sexy and so fucked out when he hasn't even properly fucked you yet.

He pulls his hand away from your mouth and caresses your cheek, thinking of all the ways he wants to ruin you. You nuzzle your cheek into his hand, enjoying the soft touch of his palm. The soft touch doesn't last long before he's gripping your hair again and pulling you up to look at him.

"I wasn't done with you yet. You're so impatient baby girl." You whimper when his grip on your hair tightens, but your pussy clenches, loving the way he's talking to you and being rough with you. You reach for him, palming him through his pants. He's so hard but he's been focusing on pleasuring you, you just want to return the favor.

"But I want to make you feel good too," you bat your lashes at him, unbuttoning his pants slowly. He doesn't stop you, so you keep going, pushing his pants and boxers down, his dick springing forward. He's bigger than you imagined and you lick your lips, ready to take him in your mouth. You grab him from the base, slowly pumping your hand up and down his member. You stick your tongue out for him and slap his dick against your tongue, showing him how needy you are to suck him off, and he can't say no to that. He moans softly when your warm mouth wraps around his tip, sliding down his length until you can't take any more. You can only take half of his dick, so your hand continues to pump and you bob your head up and down, trying to make him feel as good as he did with you.

He's lost in the way your mouth wraps around him, sucking him like no one has ever done before. Your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, leaving a trail of spit is definitely a sight to see and he wishes he could keep this image of you on your knees for him forever. He doesn't want you to stop but he wants to finally be inside you, giving you what you've both been craving for.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you keep going baby," he throws his head back and closes his eyes, hands gripping your hair harder and guiding you up and down. You pull him out of your mouth with a pop, slapping his dick against your tongue again and looking at him with doe eyes.

"Are you gonna fuck me now?" You can't hide the playful tone and excitement in your voice.

Jaehyun loves how eager you are for him, and he wants you just as bad. He pushes you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you and kisses you. You wiggle your panties off, both of you now naked and turned on beyond belief. He trails more kisses along your chest and breasts, finally taking a nipple into his mouth. He sucks and plays with both breasts, biting down and making you yelp.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard baby, you won't want me to stop. But I wanna hear you beg for it first." You can't believe he's still teasing you, he's insufferable.

To make it any more obvious you want him, you spread your legs wide, letting him get a good view of your wet core. You touch yourself again, rubbing your clit as he watches you incredulously.

"Fuck me please, Jae? I want you so bad baby," you say in your best sultry voice.

He moans, going crazier for you and enjoying the way you're begging for him. He pushes your legs towards your chest and slides himself along your slit, gathering your juices before he pushes in slowly. You both let out a sigh of pleasure as he continues to ease in.

"Oh fuck, you're so big," you cry out, not used to him being in you yet.

"You're so fucking tight," he moans, holding himself back in case he hurts you. He makes slow, shallow thrusts, trying to take it slow and enjoy the way your core grips him perfectly.

"Harder," you whisper, but he heard it loud and clear. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, pulling out to the tip and pushing back in quickly. His hips snap against your thighs quickly, making you moan loudly, the hard thrusts making you see stars. You bite your lip, trying to quiet yourself before someone hears. But with the way Jaehyun is fucking you, that seems almost impossible to do.

"You like that baby?" he says above you, knowing you absolutely love it. He watches as he moves in and out of your core, slick with your juices and making it easier to slide in and out of you, giving it to you just the way you like it.

He slaps your thigh and you whimper. "I asked you a question."

"Fuck, yes I love it," you moan, feeding his ego and making him fuck you even harder just to hear you cry out for him. He watches you as you squirm underneath him, hips meeting his own thrusts. He leans down and sucks your nipple, biting a little less than gently, shooting even more pleasure through your body. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly, pushing them towards your chest to keep you wide open for him.

"You're such a little slut for me, aren't you?" He whispers in your ear, your moans sounding like music to him.

Instead of answering his question, you grab one of his hands and place it over your throat, begging him with your eyes. He smirks and gets the hint, gripping your throat to give you the pleasure you wanted. Your hand holds onto his wrist as your mouth falls open and moans pour out, loving the way his hand is pressing against your throat. He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you suck on it without thinking, giving him your best bedroom eyes.

"You're driving me crazy, I can't get enough of you."

He pulls out quickly and grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. He pulls your ass up, making an almost painful arch in your back and you rest on your elbows as he slides back in.

He fucks you relentlessly, making your eyes roll back. The new position has him hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can't stop telling him how good he feels and how you love it when he fucks you. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your body up, hips still snapping into you roughly. The grip he has on your waist is sure to leave marks but you're too fucked out to care.

"This pussy was made for me wasn't it? You're taking me so well baby girl," his grip on your hair is painfully delicious, and you turn your head to look at him. He's sweaty, brows furrowed, eyes full of lust as he watches the way your ass bounces with every thrust he makes.

"Anything for you daddy," you say with a playful smile. Something snaps in Jaehyun, and he pushes you back down onto the bed, fucking you even harder than he has been. You didn't think it was possible, but he's proving you wrong. You're on the verge of crying from how hard he's pounding into you, the pleasure getting too much as he brings you close to your high.

"You can take it right? You're my good girl," he leans down, pressing kisses to your back.

"Make me take it," you say without missing a beat. He feels so good in you and you don't want him to stop. He slaps your ass hard, and you're caught off guard, letting out a loud moan. He can tell you like it, so he does it again, even harder this time. That's definitely gonna leave a mark.

"I'm close baby," he moans, feeling the way you tighten around him, signaling that you're close too. He flips you onto your back again, sliding back in and rubbing your clit. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, trying to coax your high out of you. A few seconds later, you feel an intense orgasm rush over you as Jaehyun continues to fuck you. The overstimulation on your clit has you bucking your hips up, unable to take the sensivitity.

"Ah fuck, I'm gonna cum, your pussy feels so good."

"Cum on my face," you tell him, biting your lip at the thought.

"Get on your knees," he demands as he pulls out, waiting for you to sit on your knees at the edge of the bed. He steps down from the bed onto the floor and pumps himself quickly, saving a mental image of you with your tongue out, waiting for his cum like the good girl you are.

He closes his eyes and moans loudly as he reaches his high, his release streaming down your face and some landing in your mouth. He watches as you swallow what you can, in disbelief of how perfect you are.

"You look so pretty with my cum on your face," he says, taking in your fucked out state and that beautiful smile you give him.

As you both clean up and get dressed, you hear a knock on the door.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" You can tell it's one of your friends and you're dreading what she might say when she sees you in the room with Jaehyun. He gives you a quick smack on your ass before you open the door.

"What were you doing?" She asks, eyeing both of you up and down.

You and Jaehyun look at each other and smile as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Nothing much, just catching up."

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