#miso updates | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ssivinee · 5 months ago

Text

❥ 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Le Sserafim! Nakamura Kazhua x F reader: You and Kazuha both come into a tight spot. She needs a 'fake girlfriend' to make her parents happy, and you need to help your dad, who needs dire help. How will the rich and popular girl and a nobody like you help each other out?

Word Count: 6.3 k

Author's Note: Writing this one actually came so easy to me, like it was so refreshing😭. ANYWAYSSSSS I'll be working on a few fics this month FOR SURE since the break is coming up! I'll have a few things coming up in school, and college WILL be kicking my ass but before and after all that, I'll try and update as much as I can.

The warm aroma of miso soup filled the air as you ladled portions into bowls, your movements practiced from countless nights spent at your father’s restaurant. The steady sizzle of tonkatsu in the hot oil, the clinking of glasses as men toasted as a celebration, and the occasional chime of the register felt as natural as breathing.

Your father fixed the dishes on a large tray: two bowls of miso soup, steaming plates of tonkatsu with rice and curry, a platter of salmon sashimi, and some plain green tea. He handed it off with a nod, and you hoisted the tray onto your shoulder, carrying it to a table where a young couple sat, lost in their little world.

Returning to the counter, you set down the tray and started wiping down tables, each swipe bringing closing time a little closer. After wiping down the last tables and cleaning the floors, you closed the register and changed out of your uniform.

“Otosan! I’m heading out!” you called from the door. Your father looked up from his notebook and calculator long enough to wave goodbye, immersed in tallying up the day’s earnings. Hopping on your bike, you pedaled home under the quiet night sky, planning to tackle your homework before bed.

This was your daily routine: mornings at university, afternoons helping your dad at the restaurant, then late nights finishing assignments. It wasn’t an amazing lifestyle, but you and your dad were getting by, and that was enough.

The scholarship you’d earned was the key to giving your father a better life, and you were determined to keep it that way. Whether that meant long hours studying or missing out on having any kind of social life, you didn’t mind. As long as you succeeded, that was what mattered.

But life wasn’t smooth sailing either. You attended a prestigious university filled with classmates from the country’s wealthiest families. You’d worked hard to pass the grueling entrance exam, clinching one of the top scores that earned you a scholarship for a business degree. That meant you had to work 10 times harder to keep your spot in school.

Now, you sat at your desk, fingers nearly flying over the keyboard as you worked on a project for business class. The computer was slow—a model you’d saved up for after countless shifts—but it did what you needed, even if you had to be patient with it. You then finished up as quickly as possible, just before you were extremely exhausted and crashed into bed.

You woke up to the harsh blare of your alarm at five in the morning, practically slamming it off as you dragged yourself up, feeling like you’d just been hit by an earthquake. Stretching the sleep from your limbs, you quickly showered threw on a plain polo, a knitted sweater, and some hand-me-down jeans. With classes starting at seven and living an hour away by bike, this was your routine—always the first one in the classroom.

As other students trickled in, you were already immersed in your textbook, laptop open, barely noticing the bustle around you. “This is why you have no friends,” a voice teased, pulling you out of focus. You looked up to see your best friend, Tanaka Anna, grinning at you.

“Then why are you here?” you shot back, smiling as she took the seat beside you. Despite being one of the “rich kids,” Anna quickly became your closest friend in that first week of school. Both of you were some of the top students in your class, and the bond you formed was effortless.

Meanwhile, across town in Osaka, Nakamura Kazuha was just stirring awake. Even fresh out of sleep, Kazuha exuded an effortless beauty. With her family’s prestige, she was known for her grace, wealth, and status—a girl who seemed to have it all.

Kazuha’s morning began in her usual luxurious bubble. She opened her eyes to soft light filtering through silk curtains, stretching slowly against the plush, oversized pillows. As she got out of her bed, she slipped on a velvet robe and made her way to the bathroom, where everything—from the marble countertops to the gold fixtures—yelled rich in anyone's face.

She took her time in the shower, letting the warmth ease her into the day, before wearing a high-end light blue blouse, matching skirt, and short white heels. The final touches were a pair of delicate pearl earrings and a designer bag to match.

By the time she came down her grand staircase for breakfast, the family’s chef had already prepared a large spread: sliced fruit arranged like art, freshly baked pastries, and perfectly poached eggs. She settled in at the long dining table, enjoying her home's quiet and refined atmosphere. But it wasn’t long before her parents joined her, each with their usual aura of authority.

“Kazuha, darling,” her mother, Mitsuko, began, setting her teacup down with a slight clink. “Your father and I wanted to discuss something important.”

Her father, Ichiro, nodded. “The company ball is next month, and it’s…well, you know how it is. We’d like you to bring a date this year.”

Kazuha paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “A date?” she asked, the idea feeling suddenly foreign. She was used to being in the spotlight on her, but with a date?

“Yes, Kazuha. You’re at the age where these things are expected,” her mother replied gently. “You’ve been so focused on yourself, but you need someone who can stand beside you, someone accomplished. It would make a good impression.”

Her father added, “It’s a chance to meet someone who’s not only a match in standard but also has the intellect to keep up with you.”

Kazuha swallowed, the weight of their expectations settling over her. She had high standards, and finding someone who was smart and emotionally intelligent, especially in her circle, felt nearly impossible. The clock was ticking, though, and she knew her parents would be relentless until she found someone. He parents weren’t one to judge, but they had some expectations that not many people reached.

Later, in the school cafeteria, Kazuha shared her dilemma with her two closest friends, Yunjin and Chaewon, as they sipped their lattes. “I just… I have no idea who I could find that’s… I don’t know, like that? They have to be smart, like really smart, and have a good head on their shoulders. But most people here are either too shallow or stupid.”

Yunjin began thinking for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “Maybe~, you’re in luck. Y/n. Top student, really smart, doesn’t exactly live in a bubble like most of us but could probably act like it.”

Chaewon nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s definitely a good option. Not a pushover, but they won’t embarrass you either. I think they’d be convincing enough to your parents.”

Kazuha thought for a moment. Y/n wasn’t exactly the first person she’d ever consider as a “date,” but you had the qualities she needed, at least from what she was hearing from her friends. And perhaps, with the right incentive, you might just agree to help her.

During your lunch break, you were scanning over some notes when Kazuha appeared before you, looking both determined and slightly nervous.

“Y/n, I have a proposition,” she began, choosing her words carefully. You looked there confused, never imagining someone this famous talking to you. “My family is hosting a ball next month, and I need a date. It’s important that they’re…well, someone smart, someone good with people. And I think you’d be the perfect choice.”

You raised an eyebrow, barely glancing up. “No thanks, I’m not really interested in being someone’s date.”

Kazuha’s expression shifted as she leaned in, desperation flickering in her eyes. “Look, I’m willing to make it worth your time. I’ll pay you—100,000 yen.”

That caught your attention. You looked at her properly, noting how she tried to maintain her usual composed expression despite the obvious urgency in her voice. “I’ll think about it,” Kazuha took that response, nodding furiously as she took a piece of paper from your notes, writing something down.

“Here’s my number. If you make up your mind, just give me a text,” You were about to say ‘okay,’ but she anxiously walked away, going back to her table. Your fingers trail to the paper, looking at the number but paying no mind to it as Anna comes to sit with food in her hands.

You told yourself you’d think about it later. “What was Kazuha doing here?”

“Huh?” You look at Anna in surprise. She hands you a sandwich, her brows raised in interest. “Oh, she was just asking me about Professor Ito’s class,” you try saying confidently, which works as Anna just shrugs and begins eating her food.

Anna had already started chatting about her morning, sharing the latest gossip and complaining about her calculus homework, which you gladly offered her help with after work on call.

After lunch, you headed to your next class, slipping into your usual seat in the back. The professor discussed business ethics, but your mind drifted back to Kazuha’s offer. The idea of pretending to be her date for a month—just to impress her family and their high-society crowd—felt entirely out of your comfort zone.

As the class ended, you tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. You had work to do and didn’t want to be distracted by a girl like Kazuha, no matter how much money she offered.

Your next stop was the library, where you planned to work on your project. It was a presentation, so you had to make sure it was perfect to save yourself from embarrassment. The quiet hum of the library was a relief after the loud and crowded hallways, and you found a secluded spot to set up. As you opened your laptop and began typing, you noticed a familiar face a few tables down—Kazuha, of all people, was sitting with Huh Yunjin and Kim Chaewon. They were talking in low voices, and every so often, Kazuha would glance around as if worried someone might overhear.

You tried to ignore them, but their conversation kept drawing your eye. Eventually, you buried yourself in your notes, focusing on your work, determined to stay on track. As minutes passed, you got into a rhythm, typing away as the library around you faded into the background.

By the time you finished, the sun had started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows. You packed up your things, feeling accomplished after making some serious progress on your project. Heading out, you passed by the university’s main quad, where groups of students were sprawled on the grass, enjoying the evening air. You caught sight of Anna again, now sitting with a few friends, laughing at something on her phone.

You waved to her and kept walking, mind back on your to-do list.

It was now after your shift, and you were doing your nightly cleaning of the restaurant, but a low, tired sigh interrupted that. You look at your dad, who was doing his usual finance check, but his hand gripped the side of his head, and he shook it in disappointment. With concern, you go over to him, sliding your hand up and down his back.

“Everything okay, otosan?” you asked, your tone light, though you’d noticed the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth. He shook his head and lowered his reading glasses, his gaze fixed on the old open notebook.

“It hasn’t been for a while, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice drowned in stress. You glanced down at the page filled with columns of numbers, each line a reminder of the months he’d been struggling to keep up. Your stomach sank as your eyes settled on the red circle at the bottom.

“80,000 yen?!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as the reality of the number hit you. Your father nodded, the faintest tremor in his hands as he pushed the book toward you.

“If we don’t pay by the end of this month, we’ll have to close down,” he said, his voice cracking. You felt your chest tighten as you watched him lower his head, shoulders sagging under the weight of shame he tried to hide as tears began dropping.

Before you knew it, you were reaching over, wrapping him tightly. He leaned into you, his struggles now fully visible. “I’ll find a way to keep this place open,” you murmured, feeling the promise settle deep in your bones.

“Y/n,” he started to say, pulling back to look at you, but you just nodded as pure determination coursed through your veins. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, the restaurant’s debt being too large for your dad to handle alone.

After helping your father close up for the night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of how you could come up with such an amount so quickly. The scholarship helped with university fees, but that was about all the financial freedom you had. The rest was a constant scramble to save and help out however you could.

You couldn’t—wouldn’t—let your father’s efforts be for nothing.

Yet you were stumped. Thinking of ways to help him, even if it were just a short solution. Your eyes then drift to the pocket of your raggedy jeans that hung on a hanger on your closet door. As if a light bulb went off, you rush over to the pockets, taking out the wrinkled paper that held Kazuha’s number.

You reached for your phone, texting her quickly, and sighed as you hit send.

Kazuha had been lying in bed, eating some chips as she watched a movie before bed. Feeling the buzz of her phone, she read the message that made her smile: It’s Y/n. I’ll accept your offer.

The feeling of relief sank in quickly, deciding to respond back just as fast: Got it. We’ll talk in person tmmr.

Kazuha couldn’t contain her excitement, texting her group chats with a big grin stuck on her face.

Zuha🦢 SHE SAID SHE’D HELP ME OUT EEEEEEEEEEEE Jen🐍 woah wasn’t expecting that to actually work out Chae🐯 wait what about her status? ik Y/n isn’t rich 🤔 Zuha🦢 i got that handled. ill talk to her about it tmmr Jen🐍 goodluck with that then 🤩

With the good news, Kazuha’s sleep was amazing that night. So the next day, during your break after your business and statistics class, you barely sipped your coffee when you noticed Kazuha approaching. She seemed more put together than yesterday, her expression a mix of confidence and happiness as you felt the peppiness from a mile away. She stopped just in front of you, a polite smile on her face.

“You free now?” You nodded, which had her quickly taking a seat across from you. “So let’s talk about the ball first,” she started. “It’s formal, of course, with a lot of people from my father’s company, some rival companies, and family friends attending. I need you to play the part of a rich, smart, and well-behaved girlfriend.”

“Alright…” you nodded, leaning in as Kazuha launched into more details.

“And as far as your ‘background’ goes, we’ll need to smooth over a few things,” she added carefully, her gaze flickering over you as if assessing what she was working with. “Tell me about you first.” “Well, uhm, my mom passed away from a heart disease when I was four years old, so it’s only been my dad and I. I’m on a scholarship here, and I work in my dad’s restaurant. She fought for a long time, and…well, my dad’s been managing on his own since,” as you finished the short summary of your life, Kazuha couldn’t help but feel sad for your mom.

Kazuha’s expression shifted immediately, her eyes softening as she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her usual composure breaking just enough to reveal a genuine sadness in her gaze. She reached out momentarily as if to offer a comforting touch, then thought better of it, folding her hands instead. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. Really.” You waved your hands frantically at her, passed the pity and grieving stage. “It’s been a long time, don’t worry about it.”

Kazuha tries to move past the subject. “So you’re gonna be the child of a successful family, then. Your father owns a chain of restaurants,” she said, pausing as if trying to gauge your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow but decided to go along with it. “Alright, we’ll leave out the real specifics,” you said, slightly grinning. “If your parents are convinced, that’s all that matters, right?”

“Exactly,” Kazuha replied with a relieved smile, then hesitated, her expression softening.

Kazuha nodded thoughtfully as if committing everything you’d said to memory. “Alright, for our story, your dad’s chain will be ‘up-and-coming.’ We won’t mention the name; I’ll handle any questions from my parents.”

“Right,” you replied. “So…what’s the next step?”

Kazuha’s face lit up a little, her businesslike expression slipping back into one of enthusiasm. “First, we need to make it believable. If people see us together, the rumors will spread, and my parents will hear about us before we even have to introduce you. So, a slight makeover and some new clothes.”

You raised an eyebrow; the idea of a “makeover” is not exactly high on your list of priorities. “New clothes? Aren’t people just going to think we’re…together if we’re seen in public a lot?”

“Exactly. That’s the point. We want to make it believable to everyone else first, so my parents buy into it,” Kazuha explained with a sly smile. “Trust me, it’s easier that way.”

You sighed, wondering just what you’d signed up for. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

The next day, you met Kazuha in the city, feeling more nervous than you’d anticipated. She took you to a luxurious shopping district that, honestly, you’d only ever seen in passing. Her eyes lit up as she led you through the marble-floored entrance of the first boutique.

“Alright,” Kazuha said with a determined smile. “Let’s find you something that says, ‘sophisticated and slightly out of everyone’s league.’”

In the first store, she handed you a blazer and high-waisted pants, then a chic blouse and dress slacks, each piece seemingly more expensive than the last. You tried on outfit after outfit, and Kazuha would look you over, making tiny adjustments to the sleeves or tilting her head thoughtfully before approving or rejecting each one. Soon, there was a stack of ‘approved’ items in her hands, and you were only beginning to realize how committed she was to this whole “couple” thing.

After several bags of clothing, she led you to a high-end salon in the district. The place was sleek, and the stylist practically glowed when Kazuha told them what she was envisioning for you. You barely had a chance to speak before you were in the chair, caped and ready. They added soft layers and volume to your hair, trimming it in a way that made it frame your face, and the stylist styled it with effortless waves, adding a sense of ‘rich’ vibes to you.

Once the haircut was done, Kazuha gave a little approving nod, almost as if she were admiring her own handiwork. “Perfect,” she said, a small smile of satisfaction creeping onto her face. “Now, for the ball…”

She led you to yet another store, where you noticed her eyes darting between the dresses on display and the sleeker suits on the other side. Finally, she grabbed a tailored navy blue pantsuit, complete with a fitted blazer and high-waisted pants. The fabric looked soft, and the cut was elegant.

When you tried it on and stepped out of the fitting room, Kazuha’s smile widened. “That’s it. It’s perfect on you.” She handed the attendant her card without another word, leaving you feeling both flattered and somewhat stunned at the transformation.

Over the next few days at school, you and Kazuha started hanging out in the open, just as she’d planned. You sat beside each other during lunch, walked to classes together, and even laughed at each other’s jokes like an actual couple.

It wasn’t long before people started talking. Anna finally cornered you at lunch with a smirk on her face. “Alright, spill. What’s going on with you and Kazuha?” Anna nudged you, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

You gave her a shrug, trying to play it cool. “It’s…kind of complicated,” you started, but Anna was already crossing her arms, ready to hear all the details.

With a sigh, you explained the situation, from the fake relationship helping her with the ball to the makeover Kazuha had insisted on to your father being in debt, and you do all this for him. Anna just shook her head with a laugh. “So, you’re basically the prince in this Cinderella story, and she’s…what, the princess in disguise?”

“Something like that, I guess,” you chuckled, though you could sense how strange this all sounded. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of it. You’d been helping your dad as usual but found yourself waiting for each break to see what Kazuha might come up with next.

All of this was beginning to feel too real to you. On a random school day, you and Kazuha had been hanging out on campus at a place with a good view. Just the two of you, sitting on a bench as her head leaned on your shoulder. “You know, this isn’t so bad,” she says as she stares off, and you find yourself staring at her as she speaks.

“These past few weeks have probably been the happiest I’ve been in my life.” You smile at her words. But when she looked at you directly in the eyes, your heart skipped a beat. Her eyes are large as she looks at you so hopelessly. Your heart raced as she smiled with genuine happiness.

On a different day, a rainy afternoon, you and Kazuha found yourselves tucked away in a small coffee shop off-campus. The rain had started out of nowhere, and after a rushed dash to find shelter, you both ended up laughing as you brushed the rain from your jackets. It was quieter than usual inside, only a handful of people scattered throughout the cozy café, and you and Kazuha snagged a booth by the window, watching the rain drizzle against the glass.

Kazuha stirred her hot chocolate absentmindedly, a small smile on her face as she leaned across the table toward you. “I think we make a pretty cute couple,” she teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

You raised a brow, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Do you, now?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, a playful grin spreading across her lips. She reached over and took your hand, threading her fingers through yours without hesitation. Her touch was warm, her thumb grazing the back of your hand in soft circles, and her expression turned softer, her gaze lingering on your joined hands as though they fit perfectly together.

“It’s kind of unfair, don’t you think?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What is?” you asked, your voice quiet in return, as if the moment was too fragile to break.

“That you get to look at me like that,” she replied, meeting your eyes, “but I’m the one who can’t look away.”

Her words hit you like a sudden rush, leaving you speechless. Her gaze was tender, searching your face as if trying to memorize every detail. She leaned a little closer, her free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For a second, you thought she might pull away, but instead, she stayed, her eyes lingering on yours with such intensity that you couldn’t help but feel your heart race.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Kazuha’s soft smile stopped you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered, still holding your hand. “I just… I’m glad it’s you.”

With the act almost becoming real, the rumors spread quickly, just as Kazuha had hoped. You started noticing curious looks and hearing whispers as the two of you walked down the halls every day. It didn’t take long for the rumors to reach Kazuha’s parents as other kids were beginning to tell their parents about the visual-like couple.

But not everyone seemed thrilled by it. Tsuki, a girl you wouldn’t usually see around Kazuha before, started lurking nearby during lunch, watching the two of you with narrowed eyes. Finally, one day, she approached your table, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Kazuha,” she began dismissively, looking Kazuha up and down with a disdainful expression. “Is this the best you could do?” She snorted, her gaze lingering on you. “I thought you had standards. Isn’t she…a bit out of your league?” You were surprised, trying to hide it. She was talking to you, saying Kazuha was out of your league? You could almost laugh at the comment.

You clenched your jaw but stayed silent, waiting to see how Kazuha would respond. Kazuha’s eyes darkened as she opened her mouth to retort, but you placed a gentle hand on her arm, shaking your head slightly. You turned to Tsuki, keeping your voice steady.

“Funny,” you said, meeting Tsuki’s gaze. “I didn’t realize other people’s standards were your concern.” You offered a polite but firm smile.

Tsuki glared but huffed, turning on her heel and walking away, though not without a parting sneer. Kazuha looked at you, her tension easing as she let out a relieved breath. “Thanks,” she murmured, a hint of a smile returning to her face.

Finally, the night of the ball arrived. You dressed in the tailored pantsuit, running a hand through your styled hair and taking a deep breath as you checked your reflection. When you arrived at the large venue hall to meet her parents, you found yourself on edge, but Kazuha reassured you with a warm smile.

Her parents, Mitsuko and Ichiro, greeted you with polite smiles, though you could tell they were evaluating you closely. As you settled into introductions, Mitsuko eyed you thoughtfully. “So, Y/n,” she said smoothly, her eyes flickering to Kazuha with a hint of warmth, “we’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” you replied with a smile, and Ichiro chuckled.

Kazuha’s hand brushed yours briefly as she added, “Yes, all good things. You’ve been such a huge support with my studies and…well, life in general.”

Her parents exchanged a look, the conversation continuing as the ball’s formalities began. You mingled, keeping up the act seamlessly as the night went on, and found yourself growing more comfortable in the role. Each smile from Kazuha felt a little more real, every glance just a little warmer.

The ball was in full swing, with the lights of the crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegant scene. You and Kazuha mingled effortlessly with her family’s guests, moving from one conversation to the next, and each time someone asked about Kazuha’s new ��girlfriend,” you surprised yourself with how naturally the words flowed. You talked about her with such ease and admiration that anyone listening would have believed you were truly in love. Kazuha noticed, her gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity.

At one point, she pulled you aside to thank you, whispering, “You’re really selling this, you know? My parents adore you.” She had said it as a joke, but her eyes showed unmistakable warmth.

You grinned. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

As the night wore on, you found yourself enjoying the warmth of her hand in yours, the comfortable way she leaned into you as you navigated the crowd together. Yet, as much as you were swept up in the moment, a pang of guilt ate at you. This was Kazuha’s world, not yours, and even though you’d agreed to this arrangement, you couldn’t shake the weight of knowing why you’d accepted it in the first place.

Needing a moment to gather your thoughts, you excused yourself and slipped outside to the balcony. The cool night air wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, trying to calm the flood of emotions that had crept up on you out of nowhere.

Kazuha must have noticed your absence because a few minutes later, she appeared beside you, her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey… is everything okay?” She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath, deciding that it was time to be honest. “I… Kazuha, I took your offer because my dad’s restaurant is in massive debt. It felt like the only way I could help him. I know I shouldn’t feel bad because you asked, but—”

She cut you off with a soft smile, shaking her head. “Y/n, you don’t have to explain. This was my idea, remember? If anything, I should be thanking you. You’re helping me way more than I expected, and… honestly, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side right now.”

Her words were gentle and understanding, but she could tell you still felt uneasy. So, she took your hand, looking up at you with an earnest expression. “You’re always talking about how much you love your dad’s restaurant. How it’s more than just a place to work—it’s part of who you are. And I get that. So…” She paused, her voice softening. “I want to help you. I want to invest in the restaurant, help with renovations, whatever it takes to keep it running.”

Your eyes widened, and you were at a loss for words for a moment. “Kazuha, you don’t have to do that…”

“I want to,” she replied, her gaze steady. “You’re doing this for me. Let me do this for you.”

At that moment, the full weight of her offer, of her kindness, settled over you. She wasn’t doing this out of pity—she genuinely wanted to help. And that thought, that selflessness, made you see her in a completely new light.

She flashed a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Plus, just imagine the look on everyone’s faces when they realize their favorite restaurant got a glow-up, courtesy of Nakamura Kazuha.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension in your chest dissolve. “Alright, alright. But don’t think you can just buy your way to my heart, Nakamura.”

“Oh, please,” she teased, nudging your shoulder. “You know I don’t have to buy anything.”

As the weeks passed, Kazuha threw herself into the project with as much passion as you had for the restaurant. She helped with renovations, shared updates on her social media, and made sure her friends and family spread the word. When the grand reopening day finally arrived, a line stretched down the block. The place was packed, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air as your dad greeted customers, overwhelmed by the support.

At this point, she didn’t even have to pay you the 100,000 yen. This was so much more than enough for you and your father.

“Y/n,” he started, pausing as if searching for the right words. “Your girlfriend… she gave us a second chance at life.”

You looked up, surprised by the emotion in his voice. He rarely spoke like this, always focusing more on action than words. He noticed your silence and continued, his gaze softening in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

“I remember when your mother and I first opened this place,” he said, a hint of nostalgia in his tone. “Back then, it was just the two of us, struggling to make it work, but it was worth every late night, every sacrifice… because we had each other. And now, seeing you and Kazuha—she’s doing for you what your mother and I did for each other. Giving you support, standing by you.”

Your father’s eyes gleamed as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “She didn’t have to help us, go out of her way. But she did, all for you. That says something. Don’t take that for granted.”

You nodded, processing his words as they settled into your heart. He smiled knowingly, giving you a soft pat on the back. “I can tell how much you care about her. And I know it scares you a little. But don’t let that stop you. Hold on to her. People like that… they don’t come around often. And when they do, you don’t let them go.”

Your throat tightened, gratitude welling up inside you. Hearing your dad’s approval, especially about Kazuha, meant everything. You thought of all the small moments—her smile, her laughter, the way she showed up for you without asking anything in return. It all hit you at once, the depth of what you had.

“Thanks, Dad,” you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips. “I really do like her.”

He chuckled, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a kid. “Good. Then don’t let anything hold you back.”

Watching from a distance, you couldn’t help but glance over at Kazuha, who stood beside you, taking in the bustling scene with a proud smile. “This is all thanks to you,” you said quietly.

She met your gaze, a soft glint in her eyes. “No, Y/n. It’s thanks to us.”

Months had passed, and with each shared moment, your feelings for Kazuha were now real to you, basically official. Every late-night conversation, every stolen glance, every quiet laugh over shared secrets had pulled you closer to her, and it was clear now: you were completely, undeniably in love with her.

One evening, Kazuha’s parents invited you over for dinner, a formal yet comfortable gathering at their home. The dining room was elegantly set, with an array of food laid out on the table. As you sat beside Kazuha, her hand resting discreetly on your knee beneath the table, you tried to focus on the food and polite conversation, but the weight of her parents’ glances didn’t go unnoticed. Something about how they looked at you tonight was different—almost piercing as if they were assessing you anew.

Midway through the meal, Kazuha’s mother, Mitsuko, set down her glass and fixed her gaze on you with a soft, almost too-knowing smile. “Y/n, we wanted to tell you how wonderful you’ve been for Kazuha. We’ve seen her happier and more at ease, especially these last few months. We’re grateful for that.”

Her father, Ichiro, nodded in agreement, though his gaze was more reserved. “Yes. And we noticed your father’s restaurant has been doing much better since… well since it became known that you’re dating our daughter.”

You felt your pulse quicken, sensing a shift in the room. They were putting the pieces together, tracing Kazuha’s involvement in your life and her influence on your father’s business. The implications were there, and you realized they must be questioning if any of this was genuine.

Kazuha’s hand tightened on your knee, a silent reassurance, but you couldn’t ignore how her parents’ gazes seemed to look through you, waiting for an answer. Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to be honest. You looked at both of them, then turned to Kazuha, the words coming from your heart.

“When Kazuha first asked me to help her… I agreed, partly because my dad was struggling. I knew it was risky and how that might look to you now. But the truth is, I never expected this to happen. I never expected to fall for her.”

The room went silent, and Kazuha’s parents watched you with unreadable expressions. Heart pounding, you looked directly into Kazuha’s eyes, unable to hold back the feelings that had been building over the months. “Kazuha, you’re… so much more than I ever imagined. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. I fell in love with you. Completely. I want this—for real, if you do, too.”

Kazuha’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly as she took in your words. Her cheeks flushed, and for a brief moment, slightly embarrassed with her parents there. She looked as if she were struggling to breathe. Her eyes began to glisten, and a tear slipped down her cheek, though she made no effort to wipe it away. She reached for your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as she nodded, a smile trembling on her lips.

“I’ve been hoping you’d say that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I’ve fallen for you, too, Y/n. And I’m tired of pretending.” Her voice grew stronger, her gaze fierce as she held your hand tightly. “I want this. Us. For real.”

Kazuha’s parents exchanged glances, their expressions softening as they took in the scene before them. Her mother leaned forward, a gentle smile on her face. “Well,” Mitsuko said softly, “it sounds like you two have found something real after all.” She looked at you, her approval evident in her eyes. “We only want what’s best for Kazuha, and if that’s you… then welcome to the family.”

Kazuha’s father nodded, a small but genuine smile gracing his usually serious expression. “Take care of each other, and take this real relationship seriously,” he said simply, with respect in his tone.

As you left that evening, hand in hand with Kazuha, you couldn’t believe how everything had unfolded. The guilt that had weighed on you for so long was gone, replaced by a new feeling—a warmth, security, knowing that this was real. Kazuha leaned her head on your shoulder as you walked. The night air cooled around you, and you smiled, kissing the top of her head.

“Looks like we’re not pretending anymore,” you murmured, and Kazuha laughed softly, her arm wrapping around yours.

“Not even a little bit.”

202 notes · View notes

hectorthedoggo · 9 months ago

Text

I will put this in ao3 and edit when i have the means to. but. @kani-miso it's 0009 sibs i thought of you and decided to make this 🎀🎀

UPDATE I ACIDENTALLY DELETED THE TAB WITH MY EDITS AO3 is going to kill me

“Alright. Milgram's up.” The creature stayed. Es stayed frozen from where they were sitting on the couch. Oh God. What's the consequences of my verdicts?

Wait. Up? This is Trial 2?

They disregarded that. It must be a mistake.

If these verdicts even are mine, I can’t tell. I've been dreading this. I'm scared. They clutched their arms, trying to gain some warmth, some friction, for what was to happen next.

Jackalope narrowed his eyes at them. “A nervous one, aren't you now. Anyways, so since the administrators decided that you were too unstable, you'll go free. Congrats.

Oh yeah, and the verdicts didn't really have consequences, it was just a little social experiment. It doesn't matter. Good luck surviving in the real world!”

What. What the heck is he talking about? “Wha- What do you mean- Who's the admin- wah!”

They felt a pulling sensation, and suddenly, they were standing in a Walmart™ parking lot. The only other person nearby was Mikoto Kayano.

But, nobody was dead. He was in his original clothes, but. Wait, where are we? What's this big sign that says ‘Walmart’?

What is a Walmart, and where the hell did Milgram go?

They also had a little pack with them, and upon opening it, there was a little message printed out. Nothing else.

‘mikoto is your legal sibling btw. gl lmao be glad I even gave you this note ur probably my favorite warden - Jackalope (professional child neglecter)’

At least the pack looked cool looked cool…

Es was about to have a mental breakdown. Why did Milgram leave me like this? Is this what I am to them?

“Woah, what happened?” Mikoto wondered, “Hey, Es. Did you do this? Is Milgram over? Did they identify it to be a mistake?”

They started shaking. They threw me out like garbage. I…

“Es?”

They sniffled at the situation. I’m… garbage. Because, as my usual logic says, I am what Milgram deems me to be.

“I- I have no idea…” they extended the last vowel to emphasize how little idea they had.

They threw the note on the ground --- or at least tried to, it just flew away, right into Mikoto’s hands ---, and started to sob.

The tables had turned. Mikoto looked like he knew why he was here, Es didn’t (nande boku ga koko ni iruyo). It was genetic.

Meanwhile, Mikoto had gotten the note, and he read it. “Wh- huh?”

He stared over at Es. “Es, this is a mistake, right?”

“That is the least of my worries right now, pudding boy!” they snapped at him, instead channeling their sadness into aggression.

He completely disregarded their feelings, to the point where he might not have even heard them. “Right… my mom did mention that our father got remarried. Wah, Suu! You’re my little sib!”

He went up to their grieving form, and gave them a little fistbump, lifting up their unwilling arm to do so. Why did he do that? Last time we touched, John was beating the shit out of me.

A random car pulled up into the Walmart™ parking lot, and the window unrolled.

It was a woman with brownish hair, who looked like Mikoto. “Oh, you’re the other sibling that your father was talking about. You two can just get in the back in the car, your sister’s taking shotgun. Nice to meet you!”

Why the fuck does Mikoto’s sister have a shotgun? Are they all like this?

Mikoto followed in with them, and buckled in. Es had no idea what was going on.

They could not find the seatbelt, too busy processing the upheaval of their life in the past 5 minutes.

“Yo, sib. The seatbelt’s over there.” Mikoto smiled and gave a thumbs up, like a reliable older brother. “I saw it.” I did not see it.

They touched it, and got stung by the heat. Their, wait, no, Mikoto’s sister turned back at their sound of pain, turning off her phone. “Ah, yeah. It’s summer, don’t touch it.”

They scowled, forgetting their dread in the face of the overheated car seatbelt.

The car chimed, and the keys jingled. “Alright, folks! You two seem pretty tired from wherever the heck you disappeared to. Would you wanna go home, or get some ice cream?”

The sister turned around, and smiled a little wide. “My dear siblings, do you know the answer? There is a correct one.”

Es scowled. “What the fuck is an ice cream. Why is the cream ice?”

“Are you serious?” She scrutinized their face, finding the truth, “Step on it, Ma.” She went back to her phone, probably texting her friends about this weird kid in a warden outfit that was apparently her sibling now.

Mikoto looked over at Es and shrugged, like a comical cartoon character. Like a ‘what can you do?’.

I won’t allow these insolent- wait, these aren’t prisoners. Unless the sister girl did something with that shotgun of hers. It would run in the family, I guess.

Wait, that would mean that I’m also violent. Nevermind.

The 11th cell came to mind, and they dismissed it. Wrong kinda fic, buddy. We staying fluff here.

“So, Mikoto. And, what’s your name?”

“Es. I think?”

The woman put on her strict mother voice. “... okay. Mikoto and Es. What was so important that you had to completely disappear for like a years. No note! Job gone! You could’ve died, for all I knew! Es, sweetie, I’m sure it was Mikoto’s fault. He’s such a bad influence.”

Es raised their hand to ask a question, slightly flustered from the pet name. She indicated that they could speak.

They decided to just reveal it all. “Um, Mikoto committed murder… eh, Mikoto, he has DID and was stressed from his job, hence the murder. And I was the warden of the prison that held him and 9 others.”

Mikoto lost all of his composure at all of his darkest secrets being revealed, the dramatic guy he was. “What… Es, don’t… I… that’s not… I don’t have DID? I was doing… I was doing just…”

He seemed a little overwhelmed at the prospect of having to unpack all of the luggage that Es laid out, so another guy came out. “I am not straight. Oh- sorry, hi, I’m John. I’m the guy who totally committed the murder 100% trust guys c’mon vote mikoto innocent 2024-”

I already had to deal with that yapping last interrogation. Es shut him up with their hand. He waved it away. “If you’re gonna say that shit about Mikoto, Es hasn’t been going to bed at a healthy time or eating healthy.”

They were betrayed at his reveal. “I can’t believe you.”

“We’re going to fix that, Es. You’re going to get the regular kid treatment.” The mother nodded, eyes steeling. Oh no, not the normal teen treatment!

John had some other stuff going on behind there. Maybe Mikoto’s cheesiness had rubbed off on him. “As soon as we get out of this car I’m giving you a hug.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

Speaking of unwarranted physical contact. “Oh yeah, mo- Mikoto’s mother, um… John beat me up in Trial 1.”

“SNITCH?!”

“What’cha gonna do about it?”

“Give you another hug.” He deviously grinned, knowing that wasn’t the answer they expected or an answer they liked.

“I won’t allow it.” But, they weren’t the warden anymore. They couldn’t deflect affection as well as they used to.

The sister was unbothered by this discourse. Perhaps it hasn’t quite set in. “I guess I got two extra surprise siblings. Cool.”

When they got to the ice cream store after a prolonged amount of awkward silence, the moment the car doors opened, the chase was on.

Es nearly ran into oncoming traffic to escape any chance at being loved, as one does, but John grabbed them and lifted them up by their elbows, giving them a hug once they were out of the street.

“Jeez, you’re light. C’mon, we’re getting ice cream and you aren’t gonna kill yourself.”

“‘M not!” They kicked their legs to try and get the man off of them. But, they had about the strength of a 5 week old kitten compared to him, without the claws.

He plopped them down, Es seething about their lack of power they had here.

The sister turned off her phone, finally, and turned to Es. “Okay, I just wanna make sure. Were you joking earlier about not having ice cream before?”

“I’m the prison warden of Milgram, I don’t need-”

She interrupted them before they could start monologuing and crying about how Milgram didn’t exist anymore. “You’re getting Birthday Bash.”

“What- but it’s not my birthday?” It could be, for all I know, but she’s doesn’t have to know that.

“Ok, what is your birthday?” Dammit.

“Great question!” Es stared into space, tone full of sarcasm. Milgram never tells me shit.

“Mikoto or whoever the hell you are, do you know their birthday?”

“Nah.” John responded. “By the way, um, this kid was the one who named me John, because they thought it would be funny to be a know-it-all and reference some English name.”

She looked over at Es. “No offense, but you suck at naming. I think we were all thinking that.” We…

Es tried to defend their horrible naming skills. “What?! Who else was gonna name him?”

Mikoto’s mother decided to join in the conversation, but left after putting her two cents in. “Me. Or Mikoto, since he’s where John came from.”

John smirked. “See, Es! But the name has stuck, so you owe me.”

Es crossed their arms, huffing. “I don’t owe you anything. You beat me up that one time, so if anything, you owe me!”

He couldn’t exactly find a defense for that, so he took their hat off their head and held it as high as he could reach, exposing their hat hair. “Hey!”

They jumped to get it, but to no avail. They looked pathetic.

Meanwhile, Mikoto’s mother and sister had already gone in to order. Order, like what a judge says?

It’s all a law reference.

John grinned. “You're a silly little creature, Suu.”

“You're not Mikoto, stop that.” I do not like that weird ass nickname.

He put on an innocent face. “What do you mean? I'm Mikoto, and I love my company so much! Hahaha, I would never commit murder. This must be a mistake!”

Es was somewhat surprised. “That's stuff he actually said in his first trial, how did you get it so accurately?”

“I hear this guy's internal monologue.”

That’ll do it. “Ah.”

He threw their hat into the air while they were distracted, and they stepped back in surprise. He caught it. “Nice hat.”

“Get away from-”

The rest of the family brought over ice cream, and Es was handed a mash of colors in theirs that seemed unnatural.

“Is this food?”

“Eat it.” John asserted.

They shrugged. If this is poison, at least I don't have to worry about Milgram and all that stuff.

Worst case scenario, it doesn't kill me and it tastes bad. I'm not sure what my best case scenario is. Dying? It tasting good? We’ll see.

They bit down on the food with aggression, and it tasted… amazing, other than the fact that it was cold.

“What the heck is this? In a good way?” They temporarily forgot about their slight suicidal ideation.

“Bro has never heard of the wonders of overly processed foods…” the sister commented, smirking.

Why is she calling me bro? Huh? If I question her, will she bring out the shotgun? I'm scared of her. She’s my older sister now, isn’t she…

To be honest, Kotoko was scarier. I’ll be fine.

She wasn’t addicted to her phone, though… wait, right. Kotoko kinda was.

They grinned, and momentarily forgot their troubles in the face of their action. I’m so much better than these people. This tastes good. Mmm… ice cream… I like it…

They did get a brain freeze, and brought their hand up to their forehead in pain.

They got their head patted by John, who had somehow consumed his (larger serving of) ice cream. “Do you want the rest of that?”

“Yes?” They answered.

He grabbed a spoon, and took a bite of their ice cream. “Wow, this tastes nice.”

Es disliked the younger sibling experience. “Give me my hat back. I didn’t forget about that.”

“No.” However, he made a mistake: it happened to be in grabbing range. They quickly snatched it, and grinned in pride.

But, while they were distracted with John, they forgot about their other older sibling, who took a sizable amount of their precious ice cream.

I just discovered ice cream. Will they stop stealing it?

They were next in a car, making sure to avoid the seatbelt this time. About ⅓ of their ice cream had been usurped, and they didn't have the strength to defend it.

But, it wasn’t that bad. These people are nice…

I… I guess this is my life now? It’s not that bad.

Finally, there were no catches to this fact.

They would have to buy new clothes, the warden outfit was scratchy.

#milgram #milgram es #es milgram #john kayano #mikoto kayano's family #they're npcs though ; ;

232 notes · View notes

magicshopaholic · 1 year ago

Text

This review made me laugh so much (which is par for the course) so I have to respond to each section 👩🏻‍🏫

Everyone: YOUR NARI

Seokjin: so anyway

Okay but yayyy good score for these two, despite an extremely inconclusive ending! To your point - yes, one tends to see their thoughts go down insane and downright ridiculous paths while drunk and on edge. Nari did try to do The Right Thing but I don't see how Seokjin can ignore it after this - I think he would've had an inkling already but this would've kind of cleared it up for him. Don't really know if that's a good thing atm 🙃

Yoongi and Miso probably maybe moved forward, yes?? But her family is so fucked up that I personally don't see it being smooth sailing - BUT yes, things have been Admitted without admitting them. Tbh the kiss was not part of the plan but while I was writing it I just knew they were gonna kiss, y'know??? So yeah, they did and Seokjin and Nari didn't

Jungkook will be okay I think. I don't think he would've felt violated as much as noped out of there because it was sort of the last straw for him for the night. That said, different interpretations are always valid so interested to see if anyone else has another viewpoint!

Hoseok is THE teddy bear and also hahahahahaha because I literally chuckled while writing that text message 🤣 Like imagine Jimin or Yoongi reading it and being yeah OKAY food poisoning SURE BUDDY but Hobi being oblivious in his hangover.

I mean......... yeah, I do think on some level he purposely kept it from the others because he didn't want anyone talking him out of it?? But on the other hand, it all happened so fast that he probably couldn't but also, how would he stew in his own martyrdom if he had things like sympathy and support?

Jk, but yeah, he's def in a messed up space but at least one of them knows now 🤷 Namjoon x Kaya fic coming up soon though!

Helping Hands

Summary: Seokjin makes a suggestion without realising its consequences. Yoongi tries to help but faces resistance. Hoseok skips dance rehearsal. Jungkook gets involved against his will.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC, Hoseok x OC, minor Namjoon x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Mild humour, awkwardness, tension, angst

Word count: 14.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, kissing, dubious sexual harassment

A/N: It's been a whole month since the last fic; I feel like I've been reborn as I format this post. Hope you all enjoy this - it's a lot of chaos and movement of plot. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

You will all be pleased to know that I have once again not edited this fic. Takes place approximately two months after Touch, three months after Near Misses, and about four months after Tea and Olive (and about a month after Final Destination).

Tagging: @bbl32@ quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld

Listen to: "mr brightside" by the killers

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Chaeyoung [19:10] Big Hit lobby. SOS.

Something catches in Hoseok’s chest. Suddenly, Seokjin’s struggles with a combination don’t seem as worrisome.

“I’ll be right back,” he says shortly, picking up his jacket and racing down the hallway to the lifts, ignoring Namjoon calling his name.

Hoseok hurries into the lobby and scans the area, noting that nothing seems to look out of place. He spots her then; she’s by the sofas in the waiting area, standing on one hip and frowning mildly at her phone in one hand. The other hand is absently playing with the corner of a sparkly pink scarf around her neck.

He walks up to her, his heart already slowing slightly. “Chae,” he says, mostly to snap her out of her laser gaze at her phone.

She looks up at him and her face breaks out into a grin. “Oppa, hi!” she exclaims brightly. “What’s up?”

“What’s -” He shakes his head. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Why?”

“Because -” Hoseok frowns, fishing his phone out of his pocket and finding her text, wondering wildly if he’d imagined this. “Did you send me this?” he asks, turning the screen to her. “SOS?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows and nods in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. The receptionist wouldn’t let me upstairs to see you without having to sign in and I needed to find a way to bring you down here immediately. I’m taking the bus home and it’s going to be here in, like, ten minutes.” She shrugs in a what-are-you-going-to-do kind of way.

Hoseok stares at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? I just had a heart attack.”

“Why?”

“Because you said SOS! Save - Our - Souls!” he exclaims, clapping his hands to punctuate each word. “I thought something was wrong. I thought you were -” Here, he catches himself and forces himself to take a deep breath. “Forget it. What do you want?”

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer right away. She looks somewhat uncertain, as though just realising her harmless trick might have backfired. “I, uh…” She clears her throat and rummages in her tote bag. “I brought you a coffee,” she says, bringing out a clear glass with brown liquid and ice cubes rattling inside it. “It’s an Americano,” she adds, stretching her hand out to him until he takes it.

Hoseok stares. “And?”

“And -” She dives into her tote bag again, this time revealing a baby blue cardboard box. “- a muffin!”

His eyes dart from her face to the muffin and back to her. “I’m on tour. I can’t eat sugar.”

“Oh, it’s a sugar-free muffin.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Probably. I don’t know.” She sighs and Hoseok hopes she’s finally getting to the point. “Can we - can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

He struggles not to roll his eyes. “Okay,” he says drily, turning around and leading them to a meeting room inside a corridor behind the main lobby. He pushes the glass door open and holds it for her to skip inside, before closing it behind him. The white lights turn on automatically and the projector screen blinks to life.

“Alright,” he says, placing the coffee on the table and sighing. “What was so important that you needed to trick me into leaving rehearsal midway?”

“Okay,” she begins, placing her hands on the table and licking her lips. They are a glossy pink, notices Hoseok, looking light and natural yet perfectly made up. Maybe they’re pinker against her skin, or it’s the lighting.

“- have a proposal for you. Oppa?”

Hoseok starts, realising he’s missed what she’s said while being distracted by the colour of her lips. Mortified, he clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters shortly, shaking his head. “Uh, I haven’t… slept. What did you say?”

She frowns but nods. “I was saying… do you remember when Chanyeol threw his fifteenth birthday party at our house and when all of you were playing Truth or Dare and I tried to join in, you said that the game was only for people without braces and then I ran away and cried in my bedroom?”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I… what?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “I’m not making this up. This actually happened.”

“No, I - I remember. Oh, God,” he mutters, his neck starts to heat up with embarrassment. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“And,” she continues, on a roll apparently, “remember when one of your idiot classmates sneaked in peppermint schnapps and even though I saw you all drinking, I still didn’t rat you out even after you were a jerk to me?”

Hoseok chokes, wishing the ground would swallow him up. “Is this why you showed up here? To remind me of my shameful past?”

“No, actually. I came here to give you a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Okayyy.”

“And to very generously unburden you of the plus-one you have for the three Michelin star restaurant opening at the St Regis tomorrow night at six pm, hosted by Marco Pierre White,” she adds seamlessly.

Hoseok stares at her for a moment before chuckling. “Wow, that was worth the journey. You bought a coffee and a muffin for that?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

Chaeyoung squeezes her eyes shut and clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Please, oppa? Please, please, please, please -”

“You want to be my date to an event?”

“No, I don’t want to be your date - I want to be a plus-one. Just - just allow me entry into the event and I’ll leave you alone after that,” she promises. “You won’t even remember I’m there.”

Fat chance of that. But he doesn’t say it, opting to take a minuscule bite of the muffin and let her continue on her spiel.

“Look,” she sighs through her nose. “This is for work. I need content, okay? The last few stories I’ve submitted have been nothing special,” she says. “Those are the actual words my boss used: nothing special. And the other two in my team - one is the son of a CEO and the other is the literal niece of the editor. The only person I have is you,” she finishes.

He raises his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes! And if I get to cover this -” She lets out a low breath. “It’ll be everything. It’s super exclusive so it’ll be luxury, it’ll be art, culture, music, business. It’ll be everything,” she repeats, her eyes huge and wide and pleading. “I really need this, oppa, please, please?”

Something feels like it’s being squeezed in Hoseok’s heart and he resists the urge to pinch her cheeks. He sighs hugely and closes his eyes, wondering how the hell he went from barely being able to stand her to being on the verge of inventing a plus-one for her if needed.

“Oh, my God.” Chaeyoung gasps suddenly, her cheeks reddening. “You’ve already used your plus-one, haven’t you?”

“No! No - no, I haven’t,” he answers, shaking his head. “And… fine. I’ll take you.”

She freezes for a second, then breaks out into a grin. “Really? Oh - thank you, oppa!” she exclaims in delight, reaching forward and hugging him before stepping back and clapping her hands. “It was the coffee, wasn’t it?”

“That - that helped,” he agrees, reeling slightly in the flowery scent.

“And I promise you won’t even know I’m there,” she reiterates. “I’ll get there on time - I’ll take the bus. Just give my name to the door or whatever and I’ll get there myself and I won’t bother you at all.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. “There won’t be any cameras inside so you’ll be fine.”

Chaeyoung shrugs and beams. “Either way. I owe you big time. Or not, actually,” she adds suddenly. “You know, because of the whole… schnapps and braces thing.”

“Yes, I remember,” he says quickly, his face heating up again. “We’re even.”

“Okay, great. See you tomorrow!” She hugs him again before gathering her stuff and heading to the door. “Thanks again!”

Hoseok watches her leave through the glass doors, his stomach floating. A moment later, he picks up the muffin and takes a large bite of it and scoffs inwardly. Chocolate.

He takes a second bite and heads back up to practice.

—

Seokjin takes advantage of the few minutes that Hoseok has disappeared and lies down on the floor of the practice room, spread-eagled. All he can hear are the sounds of his heart pounding from the intense cardio, his heavy breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

“Hyung.” A foot nudges his shoulder. “Do the bridge combo with me.”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes. “No.”

“Come on, we need to practice.”

He appreciates the we that Jungkook tactfully tacks on, but shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Just once.”

“No.”

“Hyung, what about you?” He’s talking to someone else now. Seokjin is too tired to open his eyes and see who it is, but thankfully that person lets himself be known.

“No.”

Yoongi’s answer has a finality to it that Seokjin will never be able to achieve, its biggest achievement being that Jungkook doesn’t ask him a second time. Seokjin opens his eyes a millimeter to see the maknae skip to the other side of the practice room and harass Jimin, watching them for a few seconds before sighing and dragging himself up into a sitting position.

“How great would it be if I sprained my ankle or something right now?” he mutters to Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t look away from where Taehyung and Jimin, and now Jungkook, are practicing their routine. “So you can sit out the next couple of days and get some rest?”

“Exactly.”

He shurgs. “Tomorrow is a light day. Ish. Just filming in the morning and the other thing in the evening.”

“Oh, yeah.” Seokjin doesn’t mind it. He’s not looking forward to it, per se, but Seulgi will be there, other friends from the industry will be there and since they won’t be in an English-speaking country, he’s sure to be less self-conscious while making conversation.

“Are you bringing Seulgi?”

Seokjin nods. “I told the company two weeks ago, when they emailed us the invite. I don’t miss the constant follow-ups, believe me,” he sighs, stretching. “Are you bringing anyone?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he says eventually. “I guess I’ll have to tell the company. They’ll make a fuss, though, that I’m telling them at the last moment.”

“Wait, you still have your plus-one?” He waits for Yoongi to nod, just to confirm. “You know who really wants to go? Nari.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Your Nari?”

“My friend Nari,” he clarifies, having expected this. “But… yeah. I told her about it a couple of days ago and she said she tried to get tickets to it but the handful of public ones sold out in half a day. I mean… obviously, I can’t take her. But if you have an extra and you aren’t doing anything with it…” He trails off, giving Yoongi a meaningful look.

Yoongi frowns mildly. “You’re really okay with that? You, Nari… your girlfriend… together?”

Seokjin bites his lip and looks away. He and Nari had resumed their friendship tentatively - so tentatively that he doesn’t even want to talk about it for fear of jinxing it. He’d decided to give Nari space after that disastrous dinner, utterly confused as to why she was so angry with him all the time and what he was meant to do to make it better. Weeks passed with no contact until it occurred to Seokjin that if he didn’t reach out first, they would potentially never speak again.

It began with a single text; he’d messaged requesting her to wish her parents a happy anniversary. She’d responded hours later with a Sure, but since it was more than Seokjin had expected, he’d used it as a segue to mention her parents’ anniversary party years ago and the conversation continued.

For the first time in his life, Seokjin was glad to be on tour. It provided the right amount of distance while also giving him a valid excuse to miss her - somehow, missing Nari felt like he was being unfair to Seulgi. He didn’t want to talk to any of his friends about it for fear of being right so he kept it restricted to texts as far as possible, something which seemed to suit Nari as well.

He’d been upfront about it with Seulgi; she’d sounded a bit surprised at first but didn’t say much more about it. He knew it couldn’t go on like this forever, though, that they would have to meet sometime. This event seemed as good as anything: Nari actively wanted to go, Seokjin had found a way for that to happen, and there was no pressure on any of them to host.

“It’s an event,” says Seokjin. “It’s not going to be the three of us alone.”

Yoongi nods but doesn’t pry. “Sure. I’ll let Nari know.”

A weight seems to have been lifted from Seokjin’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

Yoongi simply nods, but Seokjin sighs inwardly in relief. He would be seeing Nari again; maybe this would be the beginning of something new. Something different.

—

Nari’s hand jerks by a millimeter when her phone rings suddenly, causing her to disturb the clean line of sutures she’s practicing.

“Damn it,” she whispers, moving the surgical scissors to her left hand and retrieving her phone from the pocket of her lab coat hanging on the back of her chair. She reads the name on the screen and frowns, her momentary irritation forgotten as she answers it uncertainly.

“Yoongi?” she asks, just to be sure. She can’t remember the last time she met Yoongi; it has to have been a year, at least.

“Hey, Nari.” There’s a shuffle on the other end. “Hope I’m not bothering you.” There’s a pause. “I texted.”

“Oh.” She checks her notifications to see two messages from him from half an hour ago. “Sorry. I’ve been busy today,” she says, placing the phone on the table, putting it on speaker. She’s alone in the skills lab for once and she’s determined to master these sutures today, even if she has to do it while on the phone.

“No problem. I, uh… do you want to go to this restaurant opening tomorrow? It’s called… Mélanges, I think. I have an extra ticket.”

Nari almost messes up another suture. Placing the practice kit to the side and frowning at the phone, she repeats his own words back to him. “Do I want to go… to the Melange opening night… with you?”

“That’s right.”

There’s another pause, this time lasting longer while Nari tries to process this. She wonders briefly if she’s missing something.

“You have an extra ticket? Or is it a plus-one?” she prods, hoping he’ll prove her wrong.

“It’s a plus-one,” he confirms, his voice a monotone. “The company gave all of us the option to bring someone.”

This, she knows. She knows who Namjoon will bring, who Taehyung will bring depending on what his situation with that racer girl is, who Seokjin will bring…

“Are you in?”

Nari bites her lip. “Why me? Don’t you have anyone else you’d like to take?” She says this with an awkward chuckle.

“No,” he says flatly. “And Jin hyung said you wanted to go and I have an extra, so I thought I’d ask.”

“Seokjin told you to ask me?” The words are out of her mouth before she can help it. She can’t imagine Seokjin would ever set her up, with Yoongi no less. Something feels like it’s sinking in her stomach, but it’s so slow and so heavy that she doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to focus on it right now.

“I have to get into a meeting.”

The hint is clear. Nari leans back in her chair, her gaze falling on the abandoned sutures. She’s scrubbing in on a CABG surgery tonight, one that’s sure to go on well into the morning. She has to get these sutures right by then, just like she has to be in a place where Seokjin setting her up doesn’t it bother her.

Besides, she really wants to go. It’s an opportunity to get out of the hospital and be in something other than scrubs and, if she’s lucky, put on some make-up.

“Um, yeah. Sure. What time?”

“It starts at six. I’ll text you the address.” There’s a click and Yoongi hangs up.

Nari watches her phone screen go dark, her mind moving in slow motion. Yoongi is the last person she ever expected to have this conversation with but then again, Seokjin is the last person she expected to meddle in her love life.

But it’s time, she supposes. She would have had to see him sometime and if she’s seeing him with Seulgi, it wouldn’t hurt to have a date on her arm as well, even if it is a person who until today was only ever Seokjin’s quietest friend.

—

Chaeyoung stares at two pairs of heels, one white and one violet, wondering which one would be more professional and still the one that would allow her to stay on her feet longer.

She wishes they would speak to her. She’s already getting late and if the bus is also late, she can say goodbye to the first section of her research on the set-up and arrival of the attendants.

The doorbell rings just as she picks the violet pair. Pulling them on as she hops to the door, she opens it to reveal Hoseok, in an all-black ensemble, with the shirt unbuttoned to reveal a sliver of tan collarbone, and his hair perfectly styled.

“Hey,” she says slowly, placing her foot back on the ground. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok, who seems to be momentarily surprised at seeing her in a dress, shrugs belatedly. “What do you mean? You’re my date for tonight, so… I’m picking you up.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Chaeyoung doesn’t respond for a moment, an ancient, repressed part of her heart skipping a beat at the sentiment.

“Oh,” she says. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to take the bus, but… come in,” she adds, opening the door wider.

“Unfortunately, my parents raised me better than that,” he quips, stepping inside with his hands inside his pockets. A faint, comforting scent of cologne travels with him, of something light and airy. “Are you ready?”

“Almost,” she replies, suddenly remembering her heels and bending to fasten them. When she stands up straight, she’s nearly three inches taller.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “It’s like magic,” he jokes dryly, his eyes dropping lower and his smile fading slightly. His gaze stutters around her chest before he meets her eyes deliberately. “Are you sure that’s not…” He swallows awkwardly. “Too revealing?”

Chaeyoung frowns and looks down, seeing the hints of cleavage she’d deliberately picked this dress out for. In her opinion, it made her look more womanly and less childish; it has come to her notice that she might be taken less seriously than her peers due to her youthful appearance and while it sounds like a compliment, Chaeyoung knows it’s no way to get ahead in her career.

“No,” she answers, adjusting her neckline. “Believe me, I chose this dress for a reason. You know, you really didn’t have to come,” she repeats, sounding slightly apologetic. “You’re doing me a big enough favour by just inviting me.”

“It’s not a big deal. The last thing I need is you calling me from outside the event because security won’t let you in.”

Chaeyoung chuckles good-naturedly. “Well, that doesn’t not sound like me,” she agrees, disappearing back into her room. “Still,” she adds from inside, “it’s really cool of you.”

Hoseok struggles not to roll his eyes and checks his watch. They’ll make it on time if she wraps up in the next couple of minutes. He wonders if he can talk her into wearing some kind of scarf before deciding it’s not worth the hassle, for it’s almost guaranteed to start a fight.

“Chae, I don’t mean to be that guy,” he calls out, hearing vague sounds from inside her room, “but we should head out soon.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she says hurriedly, clutching a fistful of jewellery and shuffling out of the room in tiny steps, he presumes, so as to not trip over her heels. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know. I’m totally fine getting there by myself,” she tells him sombrely. “I hate to inconvenience you.”

“Fine, I’ll just leave in that case. You can take the bus and meet me there.” He turns to leave.

“Okay, okay.” She grabs his arm and grins sheepishly. “Thank you for the ride, oppa,” she says sweetly.

Hoseok does his best to ignore the vague fluttering in his stomach. “You got it. Now can we go?”

“Yeah, just a minute.” She heads over to the dining table and lays out the jewellery and mercifully doesn’t spend much time deciding on the simple silver chain with a pendant dangling from it. Grabbing a small clutch from the table, she approaches him.

“Do you mind?” She hands him the necklace. “I spent an hour doing my nails to perfection today and I really don’t want to ruin them.”

“Oh - um, okay.” A little taken aback, Hoseok takes the necklace, noting the dark purple pendant that matches her shoes. Chaeyoung turns around expectantly and he gingerly moves his arms over her head to bring the necklace around her neck. Before he can say anything, she sweeps her long hair off her neck and over her shoulder, revealing more skin than Hoseok had anticipated.

His fingers slightly unsteady, he tries to focus all his concentration on the delicate silver clasp and not on anything else - not his fingers brushing the indents of her spine, not the thin straps of her dress against her exposed back, not her moving closer to him to give him a better view so he can -

“Oh!” Hoseok jumps backwards like he’s been burnt. Chaeyoung turns around, too, looking startled.

“What?”

“I -” He looks up to see her frowning. “Nothing. It - it’s done,” he stutters, watching as she feels for the clasp and tugs at it once.

“Cool. Thanks.” She nods, flipping her hair back and looking at him. “Are you okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Hoseok nods. He can still feel her hips brushing against his, the suddenness of it and the smoothness of the satin, mixed with the flowery perfume.

“Sure?”

“Let’s go,” he says abruptly, spinning on his heel and stalking out the front door. He hears her gathering her keys and closing the door and he subtly adjusts his slacks, making sure she doesn’t notice when she joins him.

—

When they enter the venue, Chaeyoung lets out a low whistle.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, her gaze darting around the interior bathed in golden light. “I owe you big time for this, oppa.” She fluffs out her hair and takes a deep breath as Yoongi joins them, to whom she gives a small wave. “Okay, I see Sooah. She promised me tips on which guest to start with so I can work my way through the crowd. Thanks again for this,” she says, squeezing Hoseok’s arm appreciatively and walking away.

Hoseok watches her go in the direction of the small makeshift stage, her long hair dancing behind her. He can’t help but feel a little sorry as she does, for he was hoping she would at least hang around with him for the initial bit of the party.

“Isn’t that your friend’s sister?”

“What?” His train of thought interrupted, he turns to see Yoongi raising his eyebrows blankly. “Oh. Yeah. She needed access to a bunch of socialites for work, so I thought…” He gestures vaguely.

Yoongi nods. “She’ll definitely find those here. I kind of thought this would be a totally different crowd.” He clicks his tongue.

“The Samsung chairman is here,” he replies, tilting his head towards a group of men in slick suits. “So it’s that crowd. I mean, look around - there’s his daughter, she’s always in the paper. Then there’s… oh, that actor - Dong-won? Something like that. Choi Siwon is here, whoa… Suh Minjung, Kang Sera, Lim Hayeon…”

Yoongi pauses. Something stirs in the back of his mind. A name, a face, lots of diamonds, an air of superiority laced with insecurity. Just as he starts flipping through the memories, they’re joined by Seokjin and with him, his girlfriend Seulgi in a salmon-coloured dress, holding a martini glass.

“This restaurant is going to be insane,” declares Seokjin, once they’re done with basic pleasantries. “The appetisers are to die for.”

“The cocktails aren’t bad either,” says Seulgi approvingly, taking a sip of hers.

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Hoseok, his stomach already rumbling. He looks around again to see if he can spot Chaeyoung, his heart sinking slightly when he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t know how she’s planning to approach all these people tonight; he wonders if he should bring her a drink, just for liquid courage.

“Who else is here?” Seokjin asks.

“Taehyung and Jimin are running late, as usual,” supplies Yoongi. “Jungkook is here somewhere and Namjoon said he was reaching a few minutes ago…” He fishes out his phone, presumably to check.

“Isn’t that him right there?” Seulgi points towards the bar, and all three men turn to see Namjoon, tall and blond, at the bar. They watch as he accepts a glass of whiskey and takes a big sip from it, swallowing it with a pained frown before visibly forcing his face to relax as he starts to socialise.

“That’s not good,” remarks Hoseok in a low voice. “How was he in the studio today?” he asks Yoongi.

“I didn’t go. He said he could do it himself.” He shrugs apologetically. “I was fine avoiding him for a bit.”

Seulgi frowns. “Why are you guys avoiding him?”

Seokjin sighs hugely. “He and his girlfriend broke up and he’s… kind of using all his energy to be normal on stage and in public,” he ventures.

“So, he’s totally depressed in private,” says Hoseok, voicing what Seokjin had tactfully left unsaid.

She winces. “That’s rough.”

Seokjin makes a noise of acknowledgement. “We can’t let him drink himself to death tonight just because there’s an open bar, though. Someone needs to look out for him.”

Hoseok gives him a look. “He’ll be fine; he’s technically working. But I can do it,” he adds quickly, when Seokjin narrows his eyes at him. “For a while.”

“I’ll take over for you,” offers Yoongi as Hoseok leaves to go to Namjoon, looking at his phone again. “Nari’s calling - hang on.” He answers it and backs away from the rest of the group.

“Right.” Seokjin exhales and puts his hands in his pockets. “I almost forgot Nari was coming.”

He misses Seulgi’s fleeting frown. “Really? You mentioned it in the car.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

Seokjin looks confused for a moment but then looks ahead to see Yoongi and Nari entering the venue, stopping at the bar first. They seem to be speaking in short sentences, his hands in his pockets and hers crossed over her chest as she looks around warily. Her eyes meet Seokjin’s for a moment and he smiles a bit in response, raising a tentative hand in greeting. At that moment, however, the bartender slides her drink across the bar and she turns away, nodding at something Yoongi says.

They walk over, Nari hanging back slightly as they approach.

Seulgi speaks first. “Hi, Nari,” she says, giving her a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” replies Nari, looking slightly awkward. “You, too.” There’s a pause where no one speaks. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. You do, too.”

“Thanks.”

Seokjin, feeling rather like he wants to die, takes a deep breath. “Good to know you got the evening off.”

“Yeah, I was in a fourteen hour surgery last night and I’ve worked overtime this week.” She shrugs and her face relaxes a bit. “They basically told me to take the night off.”

He smiles a little wider, glad they’re at least talking, when Yoongi interrupts them.

“I’ll be right back,” he says abruptly, walking away with no further explanation, his gaze trained in one direction.

Leaving the others, he walks as quickly as he can without attracting attention, making a beeline for a person whom the universe has made it impossible for him to run into at Big Hit during the last two days that he’s been here in Seoul.

Miso notices him when he’s about ten feet away, her face lighting up momentarily at the sight of him before it immediately freezes into a warning one. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head infinitesimally, but he’s already reached her.

“Hey, stranger,” he mutters, sounding slightly breathless to his own ears.

“Go away,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “Now.”

Something feels like it’s getting crushed in his stomach when she looks away from him, but it’s only then that he notices who she’s with; a group of women, all dressed in designer wear and holding glasses of champagne, beginning to take notice of him one by one.

“You look familiar,” says one of them, looking brilliantly beautiful in a red low-cut gown. “Are you an actor?”

Yoongi starts to shake his head, but someone else answers for him.

“No. He’s Miso’s… friend.” Kang Sera, once again laden in diamond jewellery and a beige dress with smaller diamonds encrusted in it, smiles without disturbing the rest of her face. “You have been to my house,” she states.

“Well… yes, ma’am.” Yoongi nods, noting from the corner of his eye how Miso stiffens next to him. She’s in a white dress tonight, looking smaller and more delicate among this crowd of rich socialites than he’s ever seen her. He forces himself not to turn towards her. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Sera gives him that same cold smile before turning to her daughter. “Miso, you may go with your friend if you wish,” she offers. “You don’t have to stay with us. We’ll just bore you.” Everyone titters in response.

Yoongi is about to sigh inwardly in relief when, to his surprise, Miso shakes her head. “Thank you, Mother, but we’re just colleagues. Yoongi has other friends here. I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” she says to him smoothly, reaching over to switch her empty champagne flute from a passing waiter. She turns away again, this time with a sinking finality.

He swallows and backs away, before turning around and finishing the rest of his drink in one go as he walks away. He’s barely reached the bar again when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Kang Chanel [18:50] I’m sorry. But you have to stay away tonight.

All of a sudden, the room seems a little brighter. Yoongi looks in her direction; she isn’t looking at him, standing silently and unsmiling among the other women of Seoul, looking terribly out of place.

Min Suga [18:51] Why? I’m not afraid of your mother.

He watches as she subtly turns her phone towards her, her hand near her hip, and types out a reply with one hand.

Kang Chanel [18:51] You don’t have to be. Just do as I ask. Please.

Yoongi clutches his phone tightly, feeling every lingering ounce of worry and fear and downright uncertainty about Miso that he’s kept to himself the last two months while on tour. That’s the worst part: the uncertainty of what the hell her life is, of why she’s so guarded all the time. Every conversation he’d initiated stayed frustratingly limited to texting, making it far easier for her to divert the topic every time it came to her.

“How’s it going?” Hoseok appears from seemingly nowhere, tapping his fingers on the bar. “Um… one appletini and… one Long Island Iced Tea,” he says to the bartender before turning back to Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. “What about you? Two drinks?”

“One’s for Chaeyoung,” he answers. “She’s been gone for a while and I just want to make sure she’s okay and stuff. Have a drink with her, make sure she’s not lonely or bored. I brought her here; it’s only polite.”

Yoongi nods absently before frowning. “Weren’t you on Namjoon duty?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to take over now. If you want company, you can ask… no, Jimin is hanging around Sooah… oh, Taehyung is free,” he offers. “He and Jungkook are discussing the conditions for Dilara’s race this weekend but other than that, they might be fun.”

He considers this. “Sure. Not like I have anything else to do,” he mutters, taking his second whiskey and hopping off the stool.

Something is off with Yoongi, Hoseok is sure. But he isn’t about to let that negativity dim his focus. He grabs the drinks and snakes through the crowd to where he sees Chaeyoung with a couple of vaguely familiar chaebol-turned-actors, and Park Jimin. They’re all smiling and talking, and she has her phone out as one of them talks deliberately into the speaker.

“And that’s my official statement,” he declares, winking at her as Hoseok comes closer.

Chaeyoung laughs and locks her phone deliberately. “Thank you. I can’t wait to hear your unofficial statements now.” She turns to see Hoseok. “Oh - hey.”

“Hey,” he says, casually making his way in between her and the guy she was talking to. “Thought I’d get you a drink, in case you’re too busy to get one.”

“Oh, well… technically, I’m working,” she says sheepishly, accepting it anyway. “But one drink won’t hurt, I guess.”

“The more, the better,” her new friend says.

“Hyung, did you get a drink for me, too?” Jimin pipes up hopefully.

“Nope. Who are your friends?” he asks Chaeyoung, smiling frozenly at the other two.

“Oh, this is Lee Eunwoo -” she points to the first one “- and this is, of course, Kim Baekhyun from The Lost Ship,” she finishes, smiling brightly. It’s a different smile, Hoseok notices. He wonders if this is her work smile; either way, he knows it’s one he’s never seen. “This is -”

“J-Hope!” One of them - Eunwoo or Baekhyun - says loudly and in mild wonder. “Honour to meet you!”

Slightly mollified, he nods. “Er, thank you. Are you both -”

“Drinks!” he continues, snapping at a waiter and beckoning for him to come over. Hoseok frowns at him while Chaeyoung and Jimin visibly cringe, and watches as he supplies Jimin and his friend with fresh drinks. “To BTS!” he declares randomly, holding his glass out so everyone clinks theirs with it.

“Chaeyoung was telling us about her job,” says the other one - Hoseok can’t remember which one he is. “She’s been working very hard tonight,” he adds, giving her another wink.

Hoseok imagines knocking his glass out of his hand so his drink spills down his crisp white shirt. “She’s a hard worker. Always has been,” he says instead, throwing a brave arm around her shoulders. He ignores Jimin’s raise of the eyebrows and the slight pink tinge that appears on Chaeyoung’s cheeks.

He hangs around there for a while, a chaotic group of twenty-somethings drinking with gusto at what was supposed to be a classy event. Sooah joins them for about ten minutes as well, taking a short break from her organising duties, and somehow influences everyone to chug their drinks and get fresh ones.

“I’m good,” says Chaeyoung, good-naturedly declining another drink. Sooah doesn’t push and Hoseok, relieved at Chaeyoung’s decision, is about to decline another one as well when one of the chaebols gets involved.

“I thought we were just getting started!” he groans jokingly. “It’s seven-thirty - the drinking has barely commenced,” he adds, taking another drink from a waiter, who pauses expectantly with the remaining drinks on the tray.

Something about the guy’s - Eunwoo, Hoseok decides - statement sounds vaguely challenging. Hoseok knows better, though. He should know better, but the image of Eunwoo winking at Chaeyoung compels him to accept another flute of champagne and clink it hard with his.

“Hoseok, are you sure?” Chaeyoung asks in a low voice.

“Of course, I am,” he answers, even as his vision swims slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re kind of leaning on me a bit,” she tells him, holding his shoulder to steady him.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” he asks vaguely, taking another long swig of the bubbly champagne and feeling it go directly to his head. It stings his throat pleasantly and he welcomes the sensation, the only other ones he’s completely aware of being Chaeyoung’s hand on his shoulder and the familiar flowery scent.

She chuckles. “Sure. But maybe you should drink some water?”

It sounds like a good idea. He bites his lip, though, and looks down at Chaeyoung seriously. “And you’ll stay right here when I’m gone?”

“Absolutely,” she promises. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Alrighty. I’ll come find you.” He pats her head and makes his way to the bar, using all his concentration to walk to the bar in a straight line. The further he gets away from that noisy group, the steadier he feels. He reaches the bar and stops himself next to a woman nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre.

“Hoseok?”

He does a double take when he notices her. “Nari?” He blinks a couple of times to confirm that it is indeed her. “Wh - hey! It’s been a while. Are you here with, um…”

“Jin? No.” She shakes her head. “I’m here with Yoongi, actually?”

Hoseok wonders if he’s heard her correctly. “Really?” When she nods, he frowns. “Min Yoongi? Like, our -”

“Yes, that one.” She rolls her eyes as her drink arrives, along with Hoseok’s glass of water.

“Oh.” He takes a slow sip. “Does Jin hyung know?”

Nari exhales heavily. “It was his idea, apparently. Unfortunately, my date seems to be very busy and has been MIA for most of the evening so far.”

Hoseok feels rather like he’s missing something, but he’s intrigued. He locates Chaeyoung with some effort, still with the same group, Jimin still with them. Almost as though she can hear his train of thought, she catches his eye and waves, miming drinking something.

“She’s cute,” remarks Nari. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my date,” he says, surprisingly easily.

“Mhm. Like a date-date or a date you kind of abandon once she’s inside?”

“Erm… a date-date.” Hoseok chews his bottom lip awkwardly. “God, I hope they serve the food soon,” he says after a few moments.

“Me, too,” she starts to say when, to Hoseok’s immense relief, Namjoon and Yoongi approach them, the latter giving Hoseok a meaningful look as he trails slightly behind the leader.

“Please tell me they’re serving the food soon,” groans Namjoon, placing his empty glass on the bar and standing next to Hoseok. “Oh - hey, Nari.”

Nari nods at him while Yoongi stands on her other side. “Cheers,” he says quietly, clinking his glass with hers, apparently not noticing her motionless stature. “Where’s Jin hyung?” he asks after a moment.

“No idea. How’s your night going?” she asks in turn, a slight bite in her tone.

He shakes his head. “Crap.”

She doesn’t bother answering, choosing to sip at her drink instead. “I could really use some food,” she mutters, mostly to herself.

“I’m heading over to the appetiser station. If you want to come,” offers Namjoon indifferently.

“Sure, why not?” With that, she and Namjoon leave the bar without another word to Hoseok or Yoongi.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to go with him?” Hoseok hisses.

“Namjoon is a big boy. He can manage himself for a while,” says Yoongi dismissively. His eyes roam the hall, searching for Miso. Every moment that he doesn’t see her feels like something bad waiting to happen; the memories of the last time they were at a party and she disappeared from his sight haunts him. How late he’d been to save her, what possibly happened as a result of it… it’s kept him up more nights than he cares to count, despite Miso herself absolving him of any guilt.

His anger at the enigmatic Kang Jaesung rises again, as it has at various times in the last couple of months. He’s not here tonight, though; Yoongi has checked the guest list with Sooah, but it’s no matter. Miso’s father isn’t here, but her mother certainly is.

Miso’s message floats through his mind. He knows he should adhere to her wishes but it’s so hard, so difficult to sit here and do nothing and know nothing when he has at least an inkling of how horrible her parents are. Just as he’s struggling with this dilemma, in an insane coincidence, Kang Sera takes Nari’s vacant spot and orders a drink.

Yoongi freezes, noting vaguely as Hoseok floats away with a fresh drink in his hand. Before he can decide whether to say anything, she seems to notice who he is.

“Miso’s friend,” she exclaims, the same half-smile on her face again.

“Yoongi.” He pauses. “Nice to meet you again.”

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Miso’s. It doesn’t happen very often, actually,” she chuckles. “Remind me again how you know each other?”

“We’re co-producers at Big Hit,” he answers. “We’re in the same - we used to be in the same team. Until recently.” He bites his lip.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you anymore?”

She wanted a change and I pushed her into it without knowing. “It’s just part of the deal,” he says instead. “We all work with different producers.”

“Interesting. You’re the only one I’ve ever heard of, though,” she points out. “I’m glad she has a friend. I worry about her sometimes, you know.”

Yoongi lowers his head, trying not to look too confused. He’s insightful enough to know that she’s not being genuine about concern for her daughter, but he also can’t tell what she’s getting at.

“She’s - she’s good at her job,” he says eventually. “We’ve worked together for a while.”

It’s back, the cold smile, as though she’s forgotten how to show real happiness. “That’s great. You should come home sometime, in that case. For dinner. We have a world renowned private chef who can make you anything you like.”

Yoongi nods his head in silence, more preoccupied with imagining being seated opposite Kang Jaesung at the dining table and keeping calm rather than the private chef and his prowess.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “In fact, if you’re free -“

Something appears in between them and Yoongi realises a moment later that it’s Miso, placing herself between them with her back to him. Her hair brushes against his shoulders and his heart catches.

“Mother, Minseo from Balmain is here,” she says calmly, cutting her off. “She said she was looking for you, so I thought I’d look for - oh. Hello, Yoongi.”

She glances at him for barely a moment; he can almost believe that they hardly know each other.

Sera raises her eyebrows and her eyes flit between both of them before she nods. “Of course. Have a good evening, Yoongi. And it’s rude to interrupt, Miso.”

With that, she sweeps away in a flash of finery and Chanel No. 5.

“Wow,” he exhales, shaking his head. “Your mother is -“

“Unbelievable,” hisses Miso, glaring at him before stalking away in the opposite direction from her mother.

“Wait, what?” Momentarily stumped, Yoongi abandons his drink and follows her. She’s fast, though; he doesn’t catch up with her until she’s halfway to the appetiser station, by the giant four foot menus with he five-course meal printed on it. There are fewer people here and she automatically slows down.

“Miso -“ He reaches for her arm but she flinches out of his grasp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispers furiously, her head farting around cautiously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to - look, you told me to stay away from you and I did, but -“

“When I said stay away, I meant from me and my family. Especially my mother,” she adds with a disgusted look. “Why can’t you just do what I ask, for once?”

“But I didn’t even do anything - she came up to me.”

“So? You couldn’t have walked away?”

“No, that’s rude!” he exclaims, still in the same exchange of whispers, sighing when she scoffs in disbelief. “Look, can you just tell me why -“

“No, I can’t, because it’s none of your business,” she snaps. “Stay away, Yoongi. I mean it.” As though completely unaware of his stomach sinking into his knees, she storms off in a sea of white.

—

Nari states at her reflection in the women’s powder room, the entire area bigger than her living room. She’s starting to realise she has no idea why she’s here or why she’d ever wanted to come in the first place.

Even worse, she has no idea why it occurred to her one second after she told Seokjin that she wanted to go, that he would be bringing his girlfriend along. Far from it being a way to gingerly reconcile, it’s only serving to remind her why she’d chosen to stay away all this time.

She hasn’t seen any of the others for longer than a few seconds. Hoseok already seems on his way to getting wasted, Jimin greeted her warmly but then scooted off, while Taehyung and Jungkook haven’t been spotted at all.

Ironically, the only person she’s actually talked to tonight has been Namjoon, the one person Yoongi advised her dryly to try and avoid. It was one of eight words that her blessed date had uttered to her before disappearing. Namjoon was clearly in a bad way but misery loves company, and on some cathartic level, Nari was glad to be miserable with someone else who was also miserable.

Except Namjoon knew what he was miserable about. Nari had only an inkling that she refused to get into right now, when the stall door behind her opens, and Seulgi appears.

“Oh.” She looks surprised as well, taking a beat before standing one basin away from Nari. “Hi. Haven’t seen you much tonight.”

Nari nods, not looking at her. She wishes Seulgi hated her. She wishes she hated Seulgi, but beyond a nagging indifference, she can’t find anything.

She is not the problem, says a voice in her head. The voice is knowing, and Nari shuts it up instantly.

With a huge effort, she meets Seulgi’s gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I’ve been… around,” she answers. “Went out to get some air and stuff.”

Seulgi nods. She seems far more guarded than she had during the dinner, much more like their accidental chance meeting at the coffee shop. “Yeah, it’s more crowded than I thought it would be. Seokjin’s been in work-mode all night, talking to all these important people.” She shakes her head and half-chuckles. “It’s kind of boring.”

Tell me about it. “I’m just here for the food,” says Nari wryly.

A smile flashes across Seulgi’s face as she washes her hands. “Me, too. Can’t come soon enough.” She pauses. “You came with Yoongi, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Right. Seokjin told me. I wasn’t sure - I saw you with Namjoon a couple of times so I thought maybe…” She shrugs uncertainly.

There’s a couple of seconds where Nari processes what she means. “Oh. No. God, no.” She shakes her head vigorously. “No, no. Absolutely not.”

Seulgi raises her eyebrows at this emphatic denial. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sorry. Didn’t mean to assume.”

“That’s okay.”

She nods and begins rummaging in her clutch for lipstick. Nari sneaks a glance at her, wondering wildly for a moment what would happen if Seulgi’s assumption was true. If she and Namjoon did hook up tonight, the amount of alcohol it would take for that to happen, how Seokjin might react…

A moment later, she shakes her head, a little shocked at the road her thoughts took. She sticks her hand out under the faucet and rinses them with rigour, as if hoping to get rid of her momentary insanity.

She and Seulgi exit the powder room together, an awkward distance maintained between them.

“Do you want to join us for a drink?” Seulgi asks, pointing towards the party.

Nari follows the direction of her thumb and sees Seokjin standing with Taehyung and another person she doesn’t recognise, the latter two doing all the talking while Seokjin stands with them, hands in his pockets and comfortably silent.

He doesn’t like these parties at all. There was a time, aeons ago, where Nari would be studying late at night and would suddenly get a text from Seokjin, complaining about the number of people he was around. They would then engage in a game of reverse twenty questions where Seokjin would get a picture taken with a handful of guests, and he and Nari would invent an entire background and personality for them.

That was Before, though. Now, Nari looks at Seokjin and then at Namjoon across the room where he’s speaking to someone else, nodding with a forced smile on his face. It’s a choice between mostly comfortable silence and minor small talk with a friend, and feeling like her heart is getting squeezed further with every breath she takes.

“Maybe later. Thanks.” Nari waits for her to nod before walking towards Namjoon, deliberately not looking in Seokjin’s direction. “Hey,” she says to him, as his companion floats away. “Do you want another drink?”

“Always,” he mutters, and they head to the bar and order two whiskey sours. Namjoon leans against the bar and surveys the room, exhaling. “Can this night end already?”

“I know, right?”

Namjoon frowns slightly. “Didn’t you come here with Yoongi? Where is he?”

“Who knows?” It was annoying her before, but now she’s over it. Mostly. “Last time I saw him he was talking to some lady at the bar.”

“Really? Who?”

“The rich one.”

He chuckles without humour. “That narrows it down,” he agrees wryly as their drinks arrive. They don’t bother moving but as it turns out, they don’t have to. Her aforementioned date appears then, frowning deeply at nothing in particular as he holds a glass with a tiny bit of golden liquid in it. He gives both Namjoon and Nari a cursory nod and finishes the rest of his drink in one go.

Before they can exchange any more words, Seokjin arrives with Hoseok in tow. He meets Nari’s eyes and gives her a tentative smile that she tries to return before averting her gaze. Namjoon’s words have reminded her of Seokjin’s role in this mess of a situation; his monumentally stupid decision of setting her up with someone who obviously didn’t want to be set up.

“Uh… Namjoon?” Seokjin asks delicately, his eyes on his glass now. “Is that your… fourth? Fifth drink?”

Namjoon pauses, his glass halfway to his mouth. “Third. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just. None of us have actually… seen you drinking for a while, so we weren’t sure. But, okay. Third is… not bad. Third is good.”

Nari struggles not to roll her eyes at how transparent all three of the newcomers are, and if she can tell what they’re up to, Namjoon certainly can.

“I’m fine, hyung,” he says at last. “Just letting loose a little bit.”

Yoongi scoffs, so softly that Nari takes a moment to realise. “What have you been the last two hours then?”

“Keeping your date company,” he shoots back calmly. “Good thing I didn’t bring one, turns out.”

On her other side, Yoongi nods, his jaw hard and his tongue in his cheek. “Not by choice, though.”

Namjoon freezes and even Nari winces inwardly. In front of her, Seokjin purses his lips as though bracing himself for something, while Hoseok openly flinches with his entire face.

“Is that what this is?” Namjoon asks after a moment, looking around at them. “You’re… what? Trying to keep tabs on how much I’m drinking because I went through a break-up?”

“Of course not,” says Seokjin the same time that Hoseok says, “Not exactly.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “I’m doing a lot better than him,” he points out, gesturing at Hoseok, whose face is a brilliant red and is gently swaying next to Seokjin.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights at being called out, before his face relaxes slightly. “Ah, don’t feel bad, Namjoon,” he slurs slightly, placing a sympathetic hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “We’ve all had fights with girlfriends, so we - we get it,” he says, gesturing towards all three of them.

Yoongi scoffs again. “Yeah, except we don’t make it everybody else’s problem.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. “Yoongi,” he snaps admonishingly, sneaking a hesitant glance at Namjoon.

“I need some air,” he mutters, not looking at Yoongi. He places his glass on the bar in a deliberate motion and makes a show of displaying his empty hands to everyone, before leaving their small circle and striding away.

There’s some truly awkward silence while Nari sips at her drink for lack of anything better to do. Seokjin is still giving Yoongi a pointed look that the latter is avoiding while Hoseok, rocks back and forth on his feet before letting out a loud breath.

“Okayyy,” he says slowly. “So, I’m going to go find Chaeyoung. You know… make sure she’s doing okay and everything.” Nodding at his own words, he walks away in careful, straight steps.

Nari immediately foresees further discomfort, whether or not either Seokjin or Yoongi leave next, so beats them to it. “And I’m going to go…” She looks around hopefully, spotting Seulgi with Jungkook and deciding that even that is a better pair to be with right now. “... somewhere else.”

Yoongi avoids Seokjin’s gaze, interrupted briefly as he watches Nari walk away, before it returns to him.

“You really had to go there? We all know why he is in such a bad mood,” says Seokjin sternly, “but why the hell are you?”

Yoongi can’t bring himself to respond, for the answer is simply too ironic. The image of Miso walking away from him, her face when she’d first seen Sera speak to him, and her stinging rejection of his desire to help her make him want to yell into a dark tunnel.

Seokjin shakes his head in disappointment and walks off, leaving Yoongi alone to stew in his hideous mixture of anger and stress, and now guilt and shame. His feet take the lead, directing him automatically to Namjoon who has stepped outside near the smoking zone, both his hands in his pockets.

Yoongi stops beside him, half-hoping he’ll walk away. But he doesn’t; in fact, it doesn’t even seem like he’s registered the presence of another person.

“It’s a lot of second-hand smoke,” remarks Yoongi weakly. When Namjoon doesn’t respond, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Namjoon shakes his head once, slowly, presumably indicating his acknowledgement. Yoongi nods and is about to leave, except now that this topic has been broached, he can’t seem to follow his usual habit of not prying.

“I don’t get it, though,” he says, trying his best to be gentle. “How bad was this fight that she broke up with you? Is it the long-distance thing again? Because you’re on tour? I mean, it’s understandable that -”

“It wasn’t a fight,” interrupts Namjoon, not looking at him. “And she didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her.”

Yoongi frowns, for none of them would have guessed that. “What?” he exclaims, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Why?”

Namjoon is quiet for so long that Yoongi thinks he may not answer at all. “Someone broke into her house,” he answers finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

A ripple of shock flows through Yoongi. “What? Like… by a burglar?”

“No. By fans. Our fans,” he clarifies, clearer now. “My - “ He breaks off, his tongue sharp in his cheek.

Yoongi remembers the few weeks of intense scrutiny and stress in the aftermath of that leaked video. It’s not hard to put two and two together. “Oh, shit,” he mutters, feeling another stab of guilt he wasn’t expecting to feel tonight. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s…” Namjoon trails away, then shrugs. “They didn’t hurt her this time.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Wait… is that why you ended it?” He tries to keep his tone neutral but isn’t sure he’s succeeded.

“I had to. This can’t happen again.” There’s a note of finality in the way he says it, and Yoongi knows he’s not meant to argue with him. He bites his lip as he watches Namjoon, his jaw tight and his eyes frozen straight ahead.

“How - how did she take it?”

He makes a sound of defeat. “She hates me.”

Yoongi tries to picture Kaya - beautiful, mature, dusky-skinned Kaya with adoring eyes when she looks at her taller boyfriend - hating Namjoon, and he decides he can’t. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She’s probably angry, maybe -”

“Oh, she is. But I don’t care.” He does a double take at Yoongi, then looks away. “I mean… of course I care… but she’s safe. She’s angry but she’s safe.” He swallows and continues looking resolutely ahead. “I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her.”

Something in the way he says it makes Yoongi feel extremely sorry for Namjoon. The logic of his decision aside, it occurs to Yoongi how his twenty-six year old leader probably wrestled with this alone, and suddenly his jab at the bar seems extremely petty.

“Namjoon…” he begins, feeling distinctly like a bad friend and brother, “why didn’t you tell us?”

He shakes his head. “We’re on tour. And it’s not your problem.” He says it matter-of-factly, a moment before he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his thumb and middle finger against them. “But I’m sorry,” he adds. “I haven’t - I haven’t been a good leader.” He sniffs and exhales, not responding to Yoongi’s resolute shake of the head. “I’ll be inside in a minute,” he says, giving Yoongi a momentary glance.

Yoongi nods and grips his shoulder supportively before heading inside. The hall suddenly seems too small, too crowded and too stifling. He needs a cigarette, he decides, and heads to the lobby after checking that it’s devoid of photographers or fans. He passes by the powder rooms on the way to the coat check, when the door opens and Miso steps out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Oh.” He halts, not knowing what more to say to her. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but apparently thinks better of it, side-stepping him and starting to walk away.

Namjoon’s words play in his mind. I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her. It’s not the same situation, but it’s enough to spur Yoongi into action.

“Miso -” He waits until she turns around, then grabs her hand and motions towards the coat room. “Just one second,” he insists, immensely relieved when she rolls her eyes and follows him. Closing the door behind her and surrounded by designer shrugs, wraps and summer jackets, Yoongi finally breathes.

“You are impossible,” she states, but there’s less anger and more exasperation in her tone. “I swear, Min Suga, sometimes you act like you have nothing better to do than -”

Yoongi interrupts her. “I don’t care if you’re angry,” he declares.

She looks taken aback for a second at being cut off, but then her eyes narrow. “Excuse me?” she asks icily.

He hesitates; somehow, the words sounded far more impactful and heroic when Namjoon uttered them. “I just mean…” He closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts. He really doesn’t want to go overboard. “I don’t want you… to be angry with me. I’m not trying to make you angry but… Miso, I’m not afraid of your parents, okay?”

Miso sighs. “Yoongi -”

“And if I should be, at least tell me why,” he continues. “Because asking me to forget about it or pretend it doesn’t exist is not working. If you’re afraid of your mother, then -”

“I’m not afraid of her,” she blurts out, sighing and placing her hands on her hips before dropping them to her sides. “God, Min Suga… I can’t believe you’re making me say this. Do you remember that time I told you that my mother was sleeping with my twenty-four year old maths tutor?”

Yoongi frowns in surprise, remembering a cold night outside the Big Hit studio, shared cigarettes and mutual bickering. “Uh… yeah. You said you made that up,” he reminds her.

She gives him a look. “Obviously, you know I didn’t. She was sleeping with him… but I was sleeping with him first.” She doesn’t give Yoongi time to process this statement. “Right before I left for Australia? I was in a… situation with a classmate of mine. But then I ended it with him because I found my mom’s earring in his car and I left the country.”

Yoongi’s throat feels stuck. “What are you -”

“My mother was very young when she got married. My father ignores her. She craves attention, especially when it’s someone else’s.” Miso shakes her head and looks away. “And for some reason, she’s got it in her head that I’m her competition,” she finishes in a low voice.

There’s something she isn’t saying, but it’s also clear from the way she folds her arms across her chest that she isn’t going to. Something tugs at Yoongi’s heart as he watches Miso stare defiantly at something behind him, until her eyes dart up to him and she rolls them.

“Jesus, don’t make me spell this out, Min Suga,” she snaps, dropping her arms. “Just… do what I ask and stay away.” She doesn’t move, though, her hard gaze subsiding.

Yoongi closes his fingers into a fist to make sure his hand stays at his side. “You have nothing to worry about,” he says softly.

Miso’s eyes flicker. “I’m not worried about anything.” But the annoyance and chagrin is fading and unlike every time she’s held his gaze while making some sort of sarcastic point, this time she’s struggling to hold it with the same confidence.

“Good.” His fingers loosen and he lets them. “You shouldn’t be.” He just about registers the statement dawning on her before he steps forward and kisses her, one hand in her hair and the other hovering against her elbow.

He can tell she wasn’t expecting it so he waits for her, waits until the shock wears off and she hesitantly responds, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips slowly increasing in pressure. He opens his mouth against hers only when she does, euphoric that she’s finally, finally telling him something.

She tilts her head up a bit more and places one hand on his chest for support, and Yoongi gently clutches her hair, suddenly resonating so desperately with Namjoon’s words.

The door of the coat room opens then and Miso jerks away from him. Both their heads whip around to see Nari in the doorway, the surprise in her face already fading away when she sees Yoongi. With a quiet scoff, she steps back and pushes the door shut again.

Miso lets out a shaky breath. “Shit. Who was that?”

“Nari. She’s a friend. Don’t worry,” he adds when she turns slowly towards him again. “She won’t tell anyone.”

She nods and Yoongi realises his hand is still in her hair. He retrieves it with care, his heart still racing with what just transpired. Miso bites her lower lip as her gaze falls to the floor, licking her lips before she looks up at him again.

“Min Suga,” she murmurs, pursing her lips slightly. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the pit of disappointment in his stomach. “Too late.”

She shakes her head slightly but doesn’t look angry, or sad, or afraid. But there’s something in her eyes, something conflicted that convinces Yoongi not to regret his impulsive act. She reaches up and rubs the side of his lower lip with her thumb and he has to stop himself from taking her wrist. The skin is clear now but the memory of the bruise around it, something he’s now sure he knows the cause of, stays burned in his mind.

“Wait a couple minutes before you leave, okay?” She raises her eyebrows until he eventually nods, watching her as she slips out of the room and closes the door behind her.

Alone, Yoongi muffles a groan into his hands. He obeys her, though, counting down the seconds until he deems it appropriate to leave. On his way back to that wretched party, however, he’s accosted by someone.

“Yoongi!” Kang Sera gives him a pearly smile, still guarded, still assessing. “What a coincidence. I haven’t seen Miso around for a while - would you have any idea where she is?”

Yoongi shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Oh. Never mind.” She tilts her head slightly and her eyes soften. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer I made, though. It would be so nice to have one of Miso’s friends over for dinner.”

He imagines admitting to Miso that she might be onto something, imagines the smugness that would accompany her response. She would be insufferable at his admission and for some reason, the thought excites him immensely.

“Thank you, ma’am, but that looks a little difficult. Have a good night.” He bows before she can say anything and continues past her, feeling more energetic than he has the whole night, his lips tingling.

—

Jungkook glances backwards at the appetiser station longingly, wishing they weren’t on tour so he wouldn't have to simply watch people eat. As fancy as the menu looks, they still haven’t served dinner and he is famished. Luckily, he’d managed to sneak in a protein bar in his jacket on Taehyung’s advice and in a fortunate turn of events, the coat room is out of the way enough from the main hall that they can break the rules.

He marches in a straight line, head down and careful not to draw any attention. Sneaking around the attendant at the desk, he slides towards the door, only to see it slightly ajar. He moves to open it a little further when he hears a voice inside - crying.

Or not crying, exactly, but there’s a shaking of the voice and some sniffling, and Jungkook feels his insides cringe at the awkwardness of catching someone in a moment of vulnerability. His stomach rumbles again at that moment and he closes his eyes, knowing he needs that protein bar before he snaps and swallows a tempura roll whole in public.

“- everyone else!” The voice cries, the voice high-pitched yet in a clear effort to not be loud. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying, but you -” The voice, a woman’s pauses, and Jungkook can hear the garbled sound of a response through a phone speaker, sounding far calmer than her.

“But everyone else is here! You didn’t come for the Spring Gala last month and now this - it’s so embarrassing every time!” She pauses again and scoffs. “She’s fine! How does that matter? Is she all you care about?” There’s another pause and a sniffle before the woman responds, this time sounding far more annoyed. “She has some friend here, apparently. Doesn’t seem very impressive,” she adds in a mutter.

Jungkook wonders if he can sneak in anyway. The hunger is killing him and this woman seems so invested in her phone call that she might not notice him at all. Biting his lip and holding his breath, he slips into the dim room and looks around for his jacket. There are rows of clothing, though, and he hasn’t a clue how to locate his own.

“You said that last time, too! Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” There’s the sound of a response again, followed by the unmistakable click of the call ending. The woman sniffles again but stops abruptly. “Is someone there?” she asks sharply.

Jungkook freezes, but before he can devise a way out, the woman appears from behind a row of coats and glares at him through red eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I was just looking for my, um -” He looks around desperately, hoping his black jacket will pop out to him from the sea of other black jackets.

To his surprise, the woman simply shakes her head and dabs at the corner of her eye with a knuckle. She’s beautiful, in an old-fashioned, seventies movie kind of way, her dress dripping with diamonds. Terribly uncomfortable, Jungkook clears his throat.

“Are - are you okay?” he ventures bravely.

She turns away and sniffs again. “Fine. Just alone.”

She says no more and Jungkook takes that as his opportunity to get the hell out of here, protein bar be damned. He can survive a few more minutes before dinner; he’s survived worse.

“Well, I’ll just…” He trails off and makes a beeline for the door when she turns to him again. He halts, trying not to look too panicked at the sight of his exit behind her.

“You look familiar,” she states, frowning slightly. She smells of something vaguely sweet. It’s not perfume; it takes him a moment to realise she smells like Jimin - like cocktails. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers, although she looks somewhat familiar as well, like one of the many faces on the socialite pages in Seoul’s local newspapers.

She gives him a watery smile. “Pity.” She reaches out and smooths down the collar of his shirt. “Such a handsome boy. I knew so many like you when I was your age. I’m sure you have a girlfriend, though.”

Jungkook shakes his head wordlessly, feeling his ears and neck heat up. She’s really close, this woman. Her nails are painted a calm nude and her cheeks and nose are rosy, probably from the crying.

“Imagine that,” she murmurs, reaching up and kissing him. Jungkook is too shocked to move, freezing in his spot and feeling with staggering clarity her lips against his, the taste of her lipstick and her hand cupping his neck. It takes a few more seconds for it to click and the horror to settle in, and he immediately steps away.

“Sorry, I - I’m not…” Unable to form a full response, Jungkook passes around her and dashes out of the coat room.

—

Nari hurries out of the hotel, welcoming the slight chill of the evening and the fresh air after the pervasive goldenness of the hall. She’ll miss the dinner but nothing is worth staying another second at the most boring party she’s ever been to.

“Nari!”

She ignores Seokjin and continues on her way, eager to make it past the gate to where Jason will pick her up. She hears him shout her name again but doesn’t turn until she hears his footsteps right behind her and he suddenly comes into view.

“You’re leaving?” He sounds slightly breathless. “Already?”

“Seokjin, this has been a crappy night and I really don’t want to do this with you, okay?” she states and tries to skirt around him but he stops her.

“What? What did I do?” he asks, looking genuinely baffled. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all night but you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. Then I thought I should probably leave you alone because I saw you with Namjoon and then Yoongi for a little while -”

“You want to know what you did?” Nari feels as though she might burst. “How about setting me up on a date without asking me?”

Seokjin frowns in bewilderment. “Who are you - wait, are you talking about Yoongi?”

“How about setting me up on the worst date of my life, with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me all night?” she continues, ignoring him because now that she’s begun, she can’t seem to stop. “And then there’s Namjoon, who seems borderline suicidal, while Yoongi is making out with some girl in a coat closet and Hoseok seems to be on the verge of passing out while you’re -”

“Okay, wait, wait - hold on!” He interrupts her, looking thoroughly confused. He doesn’t speak until Nari falls silent. “Who was Yoongi kissing?” Nari turns to leave in a huff but Seokjin grabs her arm again. “And also… I’m confused. I thought you liked Yoongi.”

“I do like Yoongi. He’s a good guy - but a terrible date,” she informs him. “And I can’t believe you’d set me up with him! It’s like you don’t know anything about me - when have he and I ever had anything in common?”

“But -” Seokjin shakes his head. “Nari, I didn’t set you up. You said you wanted to go and he had an extra ticket, so I suggested he check with you. That’s all.”

Nari swallows, her heartbeat loud in her ears. “Yeah… he checked with me and asked me to go with him?”

“On a date?” Seokjin doesn’t look convinced. “Did he actually say it was a date?”

“Yes, he - oh, my God. He didn’t.” She freezes and covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God.” Did she just imagine a date? She feels light-headed, suddenly reminded that she hasn’t slept properly in thirty hours. Her stomach crawls in embarrassment and she squeezes her eyes shut before turning around on the spot and starting to walk away in bigger steps.

“No. No way.” Seokjin darts in front of her again. “You don’t get to be mad at me and yell at me for something I didn’t even do.”

“Oh, believe me, I know this was all me, okay?” She shudders, unable to meet his eyes out of sheer humiliation. “I’m leaving. We’re on the same page.”

“No, we aren’t. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Tough. Move, Seokjin.”

“Nari -” He grabs her shoulders for one moment, stopping her in her tracks before releasing her. “You are mad at me. You’re mad at me about something but you don’t want to talk about it, so you’re just looking for other reasons to be mad at me, just so you can be mad at me. But I’m done,” he declares, and she hasn’t seen him look this serious in a long time. “I’m done being your punching bag and I’m done letting you chew me out until you tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

Her heart races uncomfortably. “Seokjin… I’m sorry I blamed you, okay? But I… nothing’s bothering me. I just want to leave.”

“Bullshit.” He fixes her with a look, his jaw sharp and his eyebrows slanted. “For heaven’s sake, Nari. Seventeen years. We’ve been friends for seventeen years - what is so bad that you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not… bad.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t do anything wrong!” she blurts out, frustrated. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeats. “But I’m mad at you anyway, which means this is my problem. I can’t tell you because… because you can’t do anything about it.”

Seokjin swallows. “Tell me anyway,” he says quietly.

There’s a loaded silence between them and Nari knows it’s because they’ve reached the crux of the issue, the thing they’ve been avoiding all this time.

But maybe this is it. Maybe this is the time. It would make a mess of everything, but maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would become easier if she put it into words, if she took a risk and stepped over the line once in her life.

Taking a step forward, she takes a deep breath. Her hands go up to his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, only an inch above her own. She bravely meets his gaze. He isn’t stopping her, or stepping away. His eyes flicker, and it’s anticipation. Nari glances from his eyes to his mouth, pink and plush, and touches it with her thumb before moving closer.

Do it. Every cell in her body wants to do it, to take the plunge and deal with whatever comes out of it. But even as she talks herself into it, her heart sinks because she knows, she knows that despite what she feels, it will make no difference if she drags him down with her, if she is the reason he becomes a cheater. So, she drops her hands from his face and steps back, feeling her heart bang against her ribcage painfully.

“Nari - ”

“I wish,” she says, looking at the ground as she searches her heart for the moment it all went wrong. “I wish… that after you kissed me at Hyeri’s house… I wish I hadn’t left.”

The last word lingers in the night. “So stay now,” he murmurs, almost pleadingly.

But Nari shakes her head. “It’s not really the same thing. It’s fine, Seokjin. Really.” She takes a deep breath. “I need to sleep anyway.”

Seokjin looks like he wants to argue, but doesn’t. “How are you getting home?”

“A friend is picking me up.” She doesn’t mention a name but something in how he nods makes her quite certain that he knows she means Jason. “I’ll just…” She trails off when she sees someone else behind him. “Jungkook?”

Seokjin frowns and turns around and they both see Jungkook ambling out of the hotel, looking dazed. “Oi, Jungkook!” Seokjin exclaims when he doesn’t answer.

Jungkook’s head snaps up, and he looks slightly unfocused. “Hey,” he mutters, trudging over to them.

“Are you okay?” Nari asks, observing his quiet demeanour.

He nods immediately. “Yeah, yeah. Just… not feeling well.”

He’s clearly lying, but Nari doesn’t pry. “Okay. I’ll drop you home in that case. Come on.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he nods gratefully. “Yes, please.” He looks over at Seokjin. “I already told Namjoon hyung and he said we don’t have any pictures left…”

“Go,” agrees Seokjin, glancing at Nari. “And… take care.”

Nari doesn’t move for a moment, sharing a look with Seokjin before following Jungkook out of the gate.

—

“Careful, careful…”

Chaeyoung takes careful, deliberate steps as she helps Hoseok up the steps. Her heels dangle from one hand and his shoes dangle from one of his, from when he’d insisted on taking them off because he didn’t believe that she should be the only one barefoot.

“That’s not what it means to be a date,” he’d slurred as they crossed the street to her apartment building a few minutes ago.

Chaeyoung had given up on trying to make him put them on, focusing instead on ensuring that his phone, house keys and car keys were with her, along with her own belongings, and getting him into her apartment in one piece.

“I still don’t understand why you kept drinking,” she says admonishingly as they begin ascending the last flight of stairs. “Just because one guy says he won drinking games in college doesn’t mean you make it your mission to compete with him. Especially when you’re clearly out of your depth.”

“Hey, now wait a minute,” he replies, his words flowing into each other. “I didn’t do it for fun. I did it for a good reason.”

“Which is?”

“That he was being an obnoxious jerk.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes as they reach her doorstep. Fumbling a little with her keys, she manages to open the door and drag Hoseok inside, who stumbles into her tiny living room and flops onto the couch.

“Is it just me or is it sweltering?” he asks, taking off his jacket and groaning.

“It’s just you,” she confirms, chucking her heels to the corner and heading inside to the kitchen. “Don’t move,” she instructs him on her way out. “I’m going to get you some water.”

Hoseok smiles dreamily in acknowledgement. “Careful, caterpillar. You’re starting to sound like an adult.” But his tone is filled with fondness and endearment, enough that Chaeyoung is willing to overlook the ancient nickname.

“I am an adult,” she informs him, returning with a bottle of water and dropping it softly into his lap. He leans back and grins up at her, cheeks red and hair ruffled. “In fact, after tonight, I think I’m the adult here,” she points out, sitting down next to him. “Drink.”

He obeys without fuss, downing almost half the bottle before emerging breathlessly. “Wow, that was…” He glances at the bottle and squints “... cold.”

“It’s summer.”

“Thanks.” He sighs hugely. “Okay, I’m going to take off.”

“Wait, what?”

But Hoseok is already standing before he halts, swaying slightly before stumbling into Chaeyoung when she stands up to stop him.

“You are wasted, Hoseok,” she reminds him, pushing against him to make him sit back down. “Unless you can get one of your friends to come pick you up, you’re not going anywhere. I didn’t drive your gigantic car all the way here just for you to crash it into a lamp post.”

He pouts. “Buzzkill.”

Chaeyoung sticks her tongue out at him but is relieved when he doesn’t argue further. “You should lie down or something, oppa,” she tells him.

To her surprise, he nods, looking drained and on the verge of passing out. “I should,” he agrees weakly.

“Come on,” she says, standing up and helping him up. She steers him to her bedroom, glad he’s taken off his shoes and jacket already. “Why don’t you lie down and I’ll see if -” She breaks off when he falls on the bed onto his stomach, groaning.

Chaeyoung purses her lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have any clothes that will fit you.”

“Issokay,” he mumbles into the pillow, his eyes already fluttering shut before he opens them with some effort. “Don’t you want to sleep, too?”

“Yeah, I will.” She pauses, taking a moment to register how absurd this would be to ten year old Chaeyoung; taking care of Hoseok, the love of her life, because he got drunk trying to keep up with every person she talked to tonight. “Hoseok,” she says after a moment, her own voice sounding slightly different. “I’m going to get you the rest of that water and one of those Pop Tarts you brought me back from America. You shouldn’t sleep on an empty stomach. Okay?”

He cracks a smile, his eyes still closed. “You smell nice.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t bother suppressing her smile at that. When she returns from the kitchen, Hoseok is asleep.

—

Hoseok wakes up the next morning and immediately wishes he was asleep again. His head pounds with a vengeance and his stomach feels bloated and empty at the same time. As soon as he thinks it, he feels the bile in his throat and immediately scrambles out of the room and into the hallway bathroom, and throws up all the contents in his stomach.

Ten minutes later, after puking his guts out and lying down with his forehead pressed to the cool tiles, he emerges from the bathroom and shuffles into the kitchen and dining area. Chaeyoung is scrambling eggs and the smell of fresh coffee wafts from the machine in the corner.

“Wow,” she comments, looking up with the spatula in her hand. “You look like hell, Hoseok.”

He responds noncommittally and sits at the small table, dropping his head onto his arms. He remembers two things right then: the first, that he has dance practice starting in exactly one hour, and the second,

“Would you like some eggs?” she asks cheerily. “There’s coffee, too.”

“How are you not drunk?” he demands, raising his head and wincing.

She glances back at him with a frown. “Because I didn’t drink enough for a whole army? I was able to come home, change, drink water, scroll through Instagram for a while and wake up after a nice sleep.”

Hoseok is about to remark that he must have been dead to the world to not notice her awake when he catches a glimpse of the sofa. “Wait,” he says slowly, taking in the pillow and folded covers. “You slept on the sofa?”

Chaeyoung shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

“But -” His shoulders fall. “I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own room. You could’ve slept there, too - there was enough room.”

“Yeah, I thought about it, but I didn’t want it to be accidentally weird this morning,” she reasons calmly, bringing him a mug of black coffee with ice floating in it. “And the sofa is totally comfortable. So don’t worry about it.”

“But -”

“Eggs?”

He opens his mouth to continue arguing but stops. “Yes, please,” he mutters sheepishly. “Thanks, Chae. Really. I owe you one.”

“Even after the braces and schnapps thing?”

“Especially after that.”

She grins and places a plate of toast and scrambled eggs before him. “Eat. You’ll need the energy. Especially if you were serious about the whole Harry Potter marathon thing. Actually,” she adds, frowning, “don��t you have dance practice?”

“Um -” It’s a simple question but he can’t seem to answer it. “Why?”

“I distinctly remember you mentioning it to me in the car. I definitely remember you warning Namjoon not to be late or you’d throw a shoe at him,” she adds dryly. “If it helps, he promised he would do his best to be on time.”

“Huh.” The schedule is on his phone; Hoseok suddenly remembers he hasn’t seen it at all this morning.

“Your phone is on the centre table,” she supplies, pre-empting his question when a soft ding sounds. “Oh, that’s the Pop Tarts.” Both of them leave the table in opposite directions.

Hoseok checks his messages and then his calendar. Yep, dance practice in forty-five minutes. He bites his lip; while he is feeling remarkably better than he had when he’d woken up this morning, his head still feels a bit heavy and his throat feels dry as sawdust, despite the coffee.

Just then, his phone pings.

Jimin [8:15] Leaving in 5. Suga hyung, Namjoon and Jungkook are already in the building. What’s your ETA?

It’s a good question. If he’s planning to drive his car home, shower, change and then leave, he might make it on time by the skin of his teeth.

“Everything okay?” Chaeyoung asks from the dining table, legs long and lean in her cotton shorts as she leans slightly over the table and places the Pop Tarts in the centre.

Then there’s the alternative. Chaeyoung’s sofa, Chaeyoung’s food, Chaeyoung’s Harry Potter marathon. He wonders how he would ever justify it to himself when he realises he already has.

Hobi [8:18] Threw up this morning. Might have food poisoning. I’ll try to come in after lunch. Sorry.

Sending it, he slides the phone into his pocket and tugs open the collar of his dress shirt. “No practice,” he says as he returns to the table. He returns Chaeyoung’s surprised expression with a shrug. “This is good toast, by the way.”

She beams, taking a bite of her own. “Thanks.”

Hoseok grins back, feeling his stomach do a backflip. “Now,” he says, dusting the crumbs off his hands, “when are we starting this marathon?”

—

#this review took me SO long to respond to because i needed to focus all my attention on it #so obviously i'm doing it during a scrum call where i have no updates #your reviews are hilarious fae really #notes🍷#faearchives #the best reviews #seokjin x nari #yoongi x miso #hoseok x chaeyoung #namjoon x kaya

81 notes · View notes

siriuslysatorusimping · 1 year ago

Text

I did it, guys. I finally did it

I made Caramel Miso Butter Cookies!!

I'm going to experiment more in the future because I'm not super happy with how the caramel ended up distributing, but they are yummy! They are also very small. But Gojo does love shoving them in his face two or three at a time 😂

We tried two methods: putting pieces of caramel in the dough before baking, and then (not pictured) we dipped some in a caramel sauce after. I'm going to try chopping the caramel up smaller and adding them to the dough differently, but this was a good first try! 😊

This is the recipe I used: Miso Butter Cookies (味噌バタークッキー) I modified it by adding caramel!

I just imagine Rinko and Yuzuki in Physical Paradox making these 🥹

I also have a lil blurb from Before I Love You's continuation that includes a look into Rinko helping Yuzuki prep the miso butter cookies for baking 🥹🥹

Other planned experiments in the future: Maki's favorite Peanut Butter Miso Butter Cookies Mai's favorite Chocolate Miso Butter Cookies Megumi's favorite Mocha Miso Butter Cookies

I'd also like to make Chocolate Caramel Miso Butter Cookies 😊

Happy New Year everyone!

We made curry and Caramel Miso Butter Cookies tonight 😊💕

#goinko #goinko cookies #gojo’s caramel cookie addiction was literally accidental but here we are #caramel miso butter cookies #i can't believe i made the caramel miso butter cookies #i can't believe i made something i wrote about like this #rinko kurisaki #kurisaki rinko #rinko and yuzuki #kurisaki yuzuki #yuzuki kurisaki #another level #physical paradox baking #kiko updates

18 notes · View notes

chuusheartattck · 9 months ago

Text

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 6- Apologies ☕️

You’ve woken up to the sounds of the birds chirping and the morning sun peaking in through the windows. You would’ve loved waking up in the giant room provided by Ayaka, if only you weren’t so violently hung over.

The feeling of being incredibly nauseous while remembering some of the memories from last night, started hitting you like a semi truck.

Why did you have to drink so much? You’re never drinking again.

You always say this but never actually stick through with your word.

You loved being drunk but hated the consequences that come the next morning. Your phone was buzzing with new messages. Have you always hated the sounds of notifications? Or was it the headache talking? Annoyed, you checked your phone.

Bergrudgingly, you got up. As soon as you stood up however, you felt like you needed to throw up.

Quickly, you rushed to the toilet. Expecting for something to come out. Nothing did.

“I hate being hungover.” You quickly muttered before making your way to the dining room.

You noticed everyone had arrived before you. They all looked like shit. Including you. Mona was in deep explanation of how she read Yae’s birthchart. Apparently the woman has a lot of baggage.

You sat down in between Hu Tao and Mona.

Ayaka handed you a bowl of miso soup, “It’s for your hangover. You look rough.” She smiles.

You quietly thank her. The miso soup looks good but were you able to eat this without throwing it back up? You took your chances and fed yourself.

Luckily you didn’t.

Before you could finish the soup, Hu Tao turned towards you.

“So are you going to explain what happened last night?” She questioned.

You cleared your throat and explained your experience at the party. From start to finish. Everyone had listened intently to your story. Someone would occasionally gasp.

“Well he sure does know how to act like he cares about someone.” Mona mentioned. Scaramouche is actually a good actor.

It seems like he practiced on you the most.

As you were showing the group the texts you sent to Scaramouche and Childe, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Childe. Everyone began freaking out.

“Shit what do I say??” You were panicking because you didn’t really expect him to answer.

“Maybe an apology?” Lynette suggested.

So fucking annoying.

He’s so fucking annoying.

How can he be like this? Why was he being like this? You heavily sighed. The audacity of this man.

Lynette looked up at you, “Is everything alright?”

You put your phone in the middle of the table and stood up.

“Yes. Everything is so perfect.” You replied sarcastically, “Ayaka thank you for the breakfast and sleepover. Have fun everyone reading those stupid ass texts. I’ll be getting ready to leave.”

When the words left your mouth, you walked away and towards the room you were sleeping in.

As you were packing up you heard a knock at the door.

It was Hu Tao. She was returning your phone.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. He’s such a big dick. You don’t deserve this. She pulled you into a hug.

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it. It’s how he is.” You reassured her.

She helped you pack the rest of your stuff.

You then said goodbye to everyone and got inside your car.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Hi I’m back! Ik its been a few days but I haven’t been feeling the best so I took a while to update. I’m still sick but I feel better enough to update even if this chapter was a bit short. Another written chapter I hope you guys like it!! Also pls ignore the typo in furina’s text I meant to put ‘parties’ 😭

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @veekoko @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #ttme #chuusheartattck

232 notes · View notes

heybrownieboy · 23 days ago

Text

CHAPTER III: YOU’RE GONNA SPEAK IT INTO EXISTENCE

POV: 2nd Person.

— Word Count: 1.2K+

Author’s Note: I am so sorry for such a late update :(

ACHOO!

You groaned as you pulled your face out of the elbow you just sneezed into.

“Someone’s talking about me,” you stated.

Across from you, Nicholas chuckled. The two of you currently sat at one of the tables in JYP U’s cafeteria. Luckily, you were able to snag one of the window seats. The massive windows almost reached floor to ceiling and looked out onto the university’s beautiful main courtyard. It bustled with activity as students and staff made their way through. Others were sitting on the edge of the giant, three tier marble fountain that was directly in the middle of the courtyard talking amongst one another.

“You sure you aren’t just catching a cold?” he asked. “Or is this another one of your psychic intuition moments?”

“It better be my intuition,” you grumbled, grabbing up your chopsticks. “I really don’t feel like nursing a cold right now.”

“Okay let’s say someone is talking about you,” Nicholas offered. “I personally think it’s because they overheard you threatening someone with holy water in the chem lab bathroom at nine in the morning. They’re telling their friends how crazy you are.”

You rolled you eyes at him. “The only reason I had to even mention holy water is because the thing didn’t want to leave!” you protested. “It literally was just staring at us from the vent. And then it got angry when I actually pulled out the vile. You felt how hot it got in there.”

“It felt like we were standing on top of a fucking furnace,” Nicholas agreed as he began cutting into his mushroom, spinach, cheese omelette. “Was this one pointy?”

You arched an eyebrow at his question. “Pointy?” you asked, a little amused.

“Every time you’ve drawn one of those things, they’ve been pointy.”

“Not really? To be honest this one was kind of just a black blob and eyes.”

“How many eyes?” Nicholas asked.

“Three.”

“Why do they always have three eyes?!”

“God only knows,” you said with a shrug. “Cause they definitely aren’t enlightened.”

You stuffed some rice into your mouth and hummed in content. To you, there was nothing better than a traditional breakfast on a cold day. You tray was filled with some of you favorites— grilled mackerel, rice, miso soup and tamagoyaki. You had gotten hot green tea with honey as your drink but you knew before you left you were picking up a coffee. You were definitely going to need one to get you through the day.

“So Jake is one lucky bastard, huh?” Nicholas asked after a few moments of silence.

“Nah,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. "That guy radiates nothing but good energy. He has a pretty strong aura and a sound mind. So, it'd actually be harder for it to attach to him.”

“Good energy? He’s our year’s resident fuckboy.”

That had you giggling. “I mean yeah,” you said. “But he’s so… smiley and sweet, it’s kind of hard not to like him. Sometimes I don’t think he understands why people go for him so often.”

“Do you like him?” Nicholas asked, a teasing edge to his voice.

“I like him as a friend,” you said rolling you eyes. “He’s hot as fuck, yes. But not really my type.”

“Oh but Jimin-hyung was?!”

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?!”

“Fuck no!” Nicholas exclaimed almost seemingly exasperated. “I still can’t believe you slept with him!”

“It was Halloween and I was buzzed!” you defend. “Not to mention I hadn’t been laid in awhile. Let a girl live.”

“Maybe eventually. But Jay and Hyuka won’t if they ever found out.”

Nicholas gave you one of those grins that had you sitting up straighter. He was about to say something stupid. You just know it.

“What if Beomgyu-hung ever found out?” he asked.

You paled at the thought and mustered up the coldest glare you could. The man across from you broke out into laughter. Laughter that may have been a little too loud for how quaint the cafe was but at the moment neither of you cared.

“Don’t say that,” you hissed at your best friend. “You’re gonna speak it into existence.”

“Can you imagine his reaction?” Nicholas said practically choking on his laughter.

“Yes I can! He’d be fucking insufferable! You know what man can’t keep his mouth shut for shit!”

“And you used to gush about how hot you thought he was.”

“Yeah until he pulled that stupid ass prank on me,” you grumbled. “It showed me how much of a dumbass he could be.”

“Oh my god,” Nicholas sputtered beginning to laugh again. “You’re still holding a grudge about that? You’re as bad as Natty.”

“He ruined my favorite shirt.”

“It was an Alice In Chains T-shirt you got off E-Bay.”

“Still my favorite shirt!” you exclaimed.

“Trust me I know,” Nicholas said. “You wore that thing religiously our senior year of high school.”

You grinned at him. “You’re just jealous of my great fashion sense,” you teased.

“Your ‘great fashion sense’ consists of band t-shirts and jeans,” he deadpanned.

“And what’s so wron—“

Your mouth snapped shut, body going rigid. Nicholas noticed your silence and change in demeanor immediately.

“Y/N?” he asked. “What do you see?”

You just shook your head.

You couldn’t see anything.

But you sure as hell could feel it. Its aura was suffocatingly heavy. The kind of weight that made your stomach twist and turn almost painfully.

Slowly you turned your head towards the window, searching for anything. You noted how the wind had stopped. The tree leaves that had once been rustling softly were completely still. Too still. The birds had seemed to sense the danger too, their songs stopping abruptly.

Where was it?

Your eyes frantically searched over the courtyard but you couldn’t see anything. No spirits. No demons. Nothing.

Was it concealing itself? No. If it was it wouldn’t be letting it’s aura seep and overwhelm as much as it is. It wants its presence known. So why can’t you see it?

You could not only feel the dark side of it but the human side too. Whatever it was, had either been human or is still human with dark soul.

It made you nervous. Not just because of it’s aura or the fact that it wasn’t presenting itself. But you knew how these things were. They were powerful entities that usually end up wreaking havoc. Though they had humans sides, they thrive off discourse and pain. Any one of the people on campus could fall victim. Hell, even multiple. And this definitely felt like an entity that could attach to multiple people at once.

You turned back to Nicholas, who was just as tense and unease as you now.

“I can’t see it,” you said. “But whatever it is, it’s strong.”

Nicholas’s eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why isn’t it showing itself? Is it like… mocking you?”

“I think it’s just letting me know it’s here. It may be mocking me. I’m not completely sure. It can’t exactly tell what its intentions are. I can feel it pulling away now though.” You stood up, grabbing your things.

Nicholas quickly followed, sucking down the rest of his coffee. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’ll figure that out once I’m able to see it for what it is exactly.”

Of Chaos And Spirits Masterlist

Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers @to-toad @fr34k4c1dr41n @miudollie @estella-novella @rhonnie23 @fackeraccount @upsidedownchaire @heusalettle @akindaflora @karma2997 @inniesfanblog @loverlixie @heeee24 @masterguccio @y2kur0mi @ot8girlfie @moon-gyus @puppyminnnie @jiminssluttyminx @inejghafawifesblog @eridanuswave @lezleeferguson-120 @avilio-is-dead @annovaz

45 notes · View notes

fanfictionstuff · 4 months ago

Text

Curiosity 4 (Ikki Niko x Reader) SMUT

*Characters are of legal age*

Sorry for the late update, I know people have been waiting for it, including my friend who requested it. My favorite character from Blue Exorcist is finally back on the show so my thoughts are nonstop Amaimon. Sorry.

Normal.

Everything was normal the following day. You got up before Ikki and quietly changed into some clothes from your drawer. Since you’ve spent so many nights together, your parents and his had arranged for you to have a place to keep your clothes at each other's houses. You even have a uniform hanging in his closet, which is perfectly normal for best friends, right? It’s not.

Moving swiftly through the kitchen as if it were your own, you take various pans from the cabinets and gather ingredients from the fridge needed for breakfast. Ikki’s mom has left some miso soup for both of you. Preparing the tamagoyaki is straightforward, and there’s pickled cabbage waiting for you in the fridge.

Breakfast is normal. Ikki praises your cooking while you roll your eyes because there's really nothing to praise. Tamagoyaki is quite easy to make, and the soup and cabbage are leftovers from his mother. "You make the best tamagoyaki ______." “Whatever you say, Ikki.”

Everything felt normal as if last night hadn’t occurred. Watching you browse through your textbooks, Ikki begins to wonder if maybe it hadn’t happened.

“_____, is everything okay?” He questions cautiously.

"No. Everything is not fine. Can you tell me when I'll actually use this after high school?" You pull up the calculator on your app. "Once I graduate, this calculator will be all I need. I’d like to know when I’ll have to apply this level of math in real life, Ikki?” You lift the workbook in frustration. It’s ridiculous.

He frowns at your answer; he is not talking about schoolwork. “I meant…with us.”

“Us?”

Now, he’s truly wondering if it was a dream or something more. Could it be a dream of one of his deepest desires? “Uh, never mind. I have practice in about an hour; I need to prepare." He heads into his bedroom to put on his workout clothes. A bento his mother packed yesterday sits waiting in the fridge, which he plans to take for lunch between practices.

“_____, do you need me to get you anything?” He questions as he grabs his bag.

“No, after I finish this, I’ll grab lunch and pick up what I need.” You dismiss him, focusing on the problem in front of you. “Don’t overdo it today.”

After another twenty minutes of struggling with the workbook, you reach for your phone and decide to google the answers. At first, you try to use a website that gives you the answers and explains how it’s the answer, but then you get bored with reading about math and quickly switch to just writing the answers down.

Instead of making something for lunch, you decide to go out to a local café with great sandwiches and warm drinks. It’s just around the corner, and you make it into the coffee shop rather quickly; the scent of coffee and baked goods hits you as you enter the door. “Hi _____.” The barista grins. “How ‘s my favorite customer today?” He questions as you step up to the display case. “Good, how are you?”

"Great! Where’s my other favorite customer? I don’t remember the last time I saw you come in alone," he asks, as he begins preparing your favorite hot drink for your order.

“With his true love.”

The man snorts. “Fairly certain soccer isn’t his true love, kiddo. Anyway, what else can I get you?”

Your original plan was to come for a sandwich, but your eyes lock on a slice of cake. Would it be weird to get a slice of cake and a sandwich? Usually, you’d order one and take the other home, but you’d like to eat both now. “A panini and a slice of cake.” You point towards the slice of cake you want.

As you sip on the warm drink, you relax in the quiet cafe, watching the people walking by outside on the sidewalk. It’s not a school day, so you notice a lot of high schoolers walking by with friends. The warm comfort of the drink and smoothing warmness of the cafe is slowly starting to get to you. You and Ikki had stayed up pretty late last night, and he had to wake up early for practice today, so you wanted to make him breakfast like a good girlfriend best friend.

Shaking your head, you decide to head back to Ikki’s house. You should take a nap while you can before Ikki finishes practice.

The journey back to his house feels slower, as fatigue weighs heavily on every step. You struggle to unlock the door and carefully place your shoes in their designated spot before slipping into a pair of indoor slippers. A nap is definitely needed. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you remove your pants and neatly fold them before settling onto the sofa with a cozy blanket.

Ikki gazes down at his phone while eating the bento his mother prepared for him. He hardly registers the coach announcing that practice will end early today, as he's still grappling with whether last night was a dream or reality. He hasn’t received a text from you, which feels unusual since you usually message him during lunch.

After practice, Ikki makes his way to the locker room to change out of his sweaty clothes. He pulls out his phone to check for any messages from you, but finds nothing. A wave of disappointment washes over him, yet he quickly dismisses it, reminding himself that you’re likely busy with your own activities.

“______.” Someone whispers, shaking your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You groan, opening your eyes to see concerned teal eyes staring at you. “Ikki? Yeah, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I bed?” You ask while rubbing your eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t text me during lunch, so….” He tilts his head down, allowing the hair to cover his eyes. “…. I was a little worried.” He admits.

You slowly sit up, glancing around the living room. “Wait, what time is it?”

“A little after two.”

“Why are you here?”

Ikki’s concerned expression morphs into something else, his mouth a thin, straight line. “Sorry, I can go-“

“What? Where are you going? Why are you here so early? Practice shouldn’t be over yet, right?” you ask, tossing the blanket aside and standing up. Ikki’s eyes widen as your bare thighs come into view at his eye level. he swallows hard, his gaze slowly moving up; you remain unaware of his lingering stare. As you stretch your arms overhead, your shirt rises slightly above your panties.

As memories from what he’s starting to believe was a dream flash through his mind, his mouth starts to water.

Ikki quickly averts his gaze, feeling a rush of heat creeping up his neck. "I-I just... our coach let us go early today," he stammers, trying to compose himself. He clears his throat and looks away, his heart racing at the sight before him.

You raise an eyebrow at his flustered demeanor, noticing how he avoids looking directly at you. "Well, since you're here early, want to watch a movie or something?" you offer casually, not realizing your casual movements' effect on him.

Ikki hesitates momentarily, still trying to shake off the images from the dream—or was it reality? "Uh, sure. Yeah, that sounds good," he replies, finally meeting your gaze but quickly looking away again.

“Great.” He’s still on his knees when you lean forward to grab the remote from the coffee table in front of the sofa. Ikki bites back a groan at the sight of you bent over like that in only a shirt and light blue underwear.

You didn't think twice about dressing like this in front of Ikki; it was completely normal for you. Even though last night had been more intimate and left you feeling exposed, him seeing you like this now, just casually watching TV, made it feel innocent again.

After selecting a movie, you sit on the other end of the sofa. Your body angled towards him, with your knees bent and resting against the arm of the sofa. This position gives him a perfect view of your slightly visible underwear.

It had to have been a dream. Otherwise, you would’ve said something to him, right? His fingers dig into his thighs as he tears his eyes away from you. Last night, you were so open and blunt with your curiosity. So, was it a dream? He glances back at you from the corner, but as his eyes land on the blue cloth, he can’t help but feel starved. He wants to pull them down, see if you’ll make those same noises if he parts your legs and runs his tongue along your slit.

“Ikki, are you okay?” You shuffle on the sofa, not noticing that you’ve opened your legs a bit wider for his view as you do.

“No.”

“What’s wrong.” “Last night.” He watches you carefully to see any signs that maybe last night wasn’t just a dream.

Your eyes widen; he sounds upset. Quickly, you straighten up, tucking your legs under you, and sit on your knees, staring at your best friend. “I’m sorry! I pushed too far. Didn’t I? We can just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“No.”

Your hands start to shake at his blunt tone. Is he angry and doesn’t want to be friends anymore? Does he feel like you took advantage of him? “Ikki, I’m so sorry. I was being selfish.”

“______, I love you.”

“I know; I love you too. Yet, I put you in that position. I shouldn’t-”

He leans in, his forehead touching yours. You can feel his breath on your skin as he closes his eyes and sits silently with you.

“_____?”

“Yes?”

“I meant I’m in love with you.”

He leans forward, gently pressing his warm lips against yours. It’s a sweet, quick kiss, and when Ikki pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours again. "I'm sorry if I just made things awkward between us," he murmurs. “If you don’t return my feelings, it’s okay. We can act like I never said anything. I just can’t lose you _____.”

You slowly pull away, reaching up to cup his face while pushing some hair from his eyes. “Sorry if you made things awkward? Ikki, I asked you if I could give you a blow job last night.”

“_____.”

“You’re not going to lose me; I love you too. I always have.” You admit before pressing your lips to his. He responds with a low groan before nipping at your bottom lip. Encouraged, you part your lips slightly, and he slips his tongue inside, gently moving against yours. His hands slip up your thighs; they’re on your hips, fingers slightly tucked in the waistband of your underwear. “Are you okay?” He whispers against your lips. You nod.

“You’ve been teasing me since I got home today. Did you know that?” He says with a smirk. “First, I wasn’t sure if last night was just a dream. All morning, you didn’t say anything, and now, when I come home, you’re wearing only this.” He gestures towards your outfit. “Bending over, slightly spreading your legs. Right in front of my face.” He moves from the sofa to kneel in front of you. “I told you before, you taste amazing.” He gently trails his fingers over your knees, spreading them apart slightly. “Can I have another taste, ____? It's all I've been able to think about all day." He confesses, running his tongue over his lower lip.

You nod, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation course through your body. You can feel yourself getting wet at his words and the way he's looking at you. He leans forward, placing his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs wider. His fingers trail up and down your inner thighs, causing you to shiver.

“You smell amazing, too.” He looks up at you with darkened eyes before pulling down your underwear and nuzzling against your core.

You close your eyes and let out a soft sigh, enjoying the feeling of his warm breath against your sensitive area. He starts to kiss and lick gently, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. You reach down and thread your fingers through his hair, gently guiding him closer to where you need him most.

You're feeling a mix of emotions: embarrassment but also excitement. Last night, you thought he only did it because you gave him oral pleasure, and he felt obligated to reciprocate. But now, as his mouth eagerly explores your core with messy licks and desperate movements, it's clear that he's enjoying this just as much as you are. Your body responds by arching your back in pleasure, and he places your legs over his shoulders for easier access to you.

He can feel your arousal building, the tension in your body growing with each passing moment. Ikki's face is buried against your core; his eyes are closed in concentration as he focuses on giving you the most intense pleasure he possibly can.

You let out a loud gasp as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles that send jolts of pleasure through your body. Your hands grip his hair as your back arches off the sofa, letting out moans of pleasure that fill the room.

With his thumb rubbing your clit, he uses his other hand to insert a finger into you slowly. He watches you through his hair, accessing the situation. Your expression and sounds only hint at pleasure, so he slowly adds another finger. Still focused on your expression while starting to make a scissoring motion with his fingers. That’s how he’s supposed to do it, right? To prepare you in case you want to go further with him. His brow furrows in concentration, wanting to bring you the most pleasure possible. When you start pulling his hair almost painfully, he realizes you’re going to cum. He curls his fingers while gently sucking against your clit.

You pant out his name as you come undone, the sensation seemingly stronger than it had been last night. “I-I think you somehow got better at it, how? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Your body jolts as you feel his warm tongue running along your folds again. “Ikki! Too sensitive.” You whine, trying to pull away. “Are you going to do this every time?” He frowns at you. “I’m sorry _____, you just taste amazing. I’ve never tasted something this amazing before.”

“You’re full of shit.” You huff, not believing that the taste of your release is anywhere near the level he’s trying to say it is. Ikki shakes his head, leaning forward to run his tongue along your folds once more. “I could do this all day.”

“Can I suck your cock?” Suddenly, the tables have turned, and Ikki’s confidence melts away into embarrassment at your words. “W-what? No, I mean yes.” He attempts to hide his red face against your legs. “Yes, just let me shower first, okay? I just got back from training and wasn’t expecting to do this within twenty minutes of walking in.”

“So, you were expecting this?”

Ikki chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I-I mean, I hoped it would happen again; I didn’t think it would happen so soon." He looks up at you with a shy smile. "But I'm not complaining," he adds quickly, the embarrassment still evident in his face.

You grin at him, finding his reaction endearing. "Alright, go take a shower then. I'll wait for you."

Ikki nods and stands up, pulling his clothes off as he heads towards the bathroom. You watch him go with an appreciation for his toned body before pulling yourself together and sitting up on the sofa.

As you wait for Ikki to finish showering, your mind races with excitement and anticipation. Last night was amazing, and you can't wait to feel that same pleasure again with Ikki.

When he finally emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in comfortable lounge pants, you can't help but stare at him hungrily. He grins at your reaction before making his way over to you.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks softly as he stands in front of you.

You nod eagerly; this all started off as your idea; of course, you’re ready.

“Maybe we could go to the bedroom.”

“Right! Yeah, of course.” You probably sound a bit too eager, but Ikki is your best friend and boyfriend? Is he your boyfriend now? Maybe this is something you should confirm first. “Uh, Ikki?” You question, suddenly feeling nervous as you follow him into the bedroom.

“Yes?”

You sit on his bed, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. “So, uh, are we in a relationship?”

He pauses, suddenly becoming more nervous, too. “I hope so. I love you, and you said you love me unless you don’t.”

“I do! I just, nothing was said.”

You watch as his face starts to turn red. “_____, I thought it was implied.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Anyway, you’ll let me suck your cock now?”

He knows you’re just reflecting your embarrassment, so he doesn’t say anything about your comment. Slowly, he nudges you to sit on his bed, and he sits beside you. His eyes never leave yours as he pulls down the waistband of his pants to reveal himself fully.

He's already hard, and your mouth waters at the sight of his length. Without hesitation, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. A low groan escapes Ikki's lips as your tongue swirls around him teasingly.

You savor his taste and feel in your mouth, loving how he responds to your every movement. You want to make him feel as good as he made you feel earlier. You take him deeper into your throat, causing him to let out a loud groan that seemingly vibrates throughout the room.

Ikki reaches down, gently taking hold of the back of your head as you continue to pleasure him. His fingers thread through your hair, his breaths coming out ragged and labored as you continue on.

"Oh god, ____," he moans softly, eyes tightly shut as he revels in the sensation of your mouth on him. "You're so good at this."

You remove your mouth from him but don’t lift your head, slightly panting; the puffs of air you release against the head of his cock just make him more sensitive. “Ikki, I’m the only one that’s done this for you. I could be awful for all you know.” You causelly comment, licking the tip.

"I don't think that's possible," he replies, his voice slightly hoarse. "You... you make it feel so good."

You grin in response, feeling a newfound confidence as you move back down to take him into your mouth again. Your lips wrap around him, and you begin to move your head rhythmically up and down, taking him deeper with each passing second.

Ikki's fingers tighten slightly in your hair, guiding your movements as you continue to please him. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants, each one more labored than the last as he approaches his climax.

"I'm going to cum," he warns you softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You pull off him just in time, sitting back on your heels as he releases a loud groan, his hips bucking as he reaches his peak. He grips the sheets tightly as his orgasm washes over him, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

As he enjoys the aftermath of his release, you lean forward, kissing the tip of his softening penis softly before looking up at him with a smile. "Glad you enjoyed it."

Ikki leans forward, capturing your lips passionately as his hands roam over your body. You eagerly respond, tangling your fingers in his hair as the kiss intensifies. His hands continue their exploration, trailing down to your core, where he finds you already wet with anticipation.

He slides a finger inside you, causing you to gasp and arch your back against him. "You're wet again," he murmurs against your lips before adding another finger and increasing his pace. Your moans become louder as he continues to please you with his fingers.

Feeling impatient, you grind yourself against him, wanting more contact and friction. “Could we, um, have sex?” You mumble as his thumb makes contact with your clit.

“Y-yeah.” He pulls away from you slightly to remove his pants completely; you follow suit and remove your shirt; your underwear is still somewhere tossed in the living room.

Gently, he guides you to lie down on the bed. “Are you sure?” You nod. “Let me know if it hurts.” He positions himself above you nervously; he expects the first time to be awkward; you are both virgins. His main concern is not hurting you when he first enters you.

“I’m ready.” You reply, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He takes the hint, slowly entering you, his eyes locked with yours as he moves deeper inside you.

At first, it feels a little uncomfortable, but he moves slowly and pauses to ensure you’re okay before entering more. He waits a moment once he’s fully in you, giving you time to adjust. There’s no pain, just an odd feeling of being filled. You pull his head down to place a kiss on his lips. “Okay, you can move now.” He nods, starting with shallow thrusts, watching you carefully the whole time. You moan softly, your legs wrapping around Ikki’s waist as he moves deeper inside you.

Ikki groans softly in response, his chest grazing against yours as he finds a rhythm that seems to work for both of you. His lips find yours again in a passionate kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he tries to please you in every way possible. Ikki moves a hand between your legs, reaching for your clit, gently pinching it as he continues to thrust into you.

You gasp at the sudden sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure radiate from your core. "Yes," you whisper, clutching at his back as he continues to touch you in just the right way.

Ikki's movements become more earnest, his thrusts deeper and harder as he tries to give you the pleasure you both desperately crave. His eyes are locked on yours, searching for any sign that he's succeeding in making you feel good.

"I'm close," you pant, your voice barely audible over your own heavy breathing. "Don't stop."

Ikki nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he continues his relentless assault on your body. His breath becomes ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he fights for control over his own impending orgasm.

Suddenly, a wave of intense pleasure washes over you, your entire body trembling as you cry out his name. Ikki feels your muscles clench around him as you release. His body shudders against yours, and he lets out a rough groan as he cums deep inside you.

Ikki's breath hitches as he pulls back slightly, his gaze still locked with yours. "Are you okay?" He whispers concern etched on his face.

You laugh, “Better than okay. Hey, did you know most girls don’t have an orgasm during their first time? So, good job.” You pat his back.

His head drops to your shoulder, “_____, please.”

“It’s true. I read it online.”

“_____.”

“Fine, fine. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You grasp a handful of his hair, pulling his head back so you can make eye contact. “So, our parents…”

If your parents knew, they’d realize they had been wrong about your supposedly sibling-like relationship all this time, and it’d be a mess.

Ikki looks thoughtful for a moment. “We’ve only got a few months before we finish high school. Let’s tell them once they’ve helped us move into a new apartment at the university.”

#ikki niko x reader #niko ikki x reader #ikki niko #niko ikki #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x reader #blue lock

60 notes · View notes