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joonsytip · 2 days ago

Text

Something About You || Woozi

Pairings: Woozi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Lawyer!Woozi, Event Coordinator!Reader, Selective Amnesia au, Secret Relationship au

Synopsis: When your boyfriend loses all memories of you after an accident, you go through hell of a time trying to bring back the memories. But in the process of convincing him what you both had was real, it makes you question if what you both had was ever real.

Warnings: jihoon is outright blunt and asshole, mentions accident, jihoon suffers selective amnesia, reader has astraphobia, relationship is hidden and based on rebound, one fighting scene, jihoon gets beaten by umbrella, oral (f. recieving), fingering, dirty talks, rough sex.

Word Count: 11.5k

Thanks to @cherriegyuu for beta reading this ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

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The look Jihoon gives you is condescending. He believes that whatever you said just now is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.

"I know it's hard to believe but it's true that I'm your girlfriend."

You repeat, biting back the tears.

The doctor takes pity on you and attempts to make his patient understand his current medical situation quoting it in most layman terms possible.

"Mr. Lee, you have been in an accident and that has caused internal bleeding in your brain. I'm not going into details but that has caused neural damage.", he continues solemnly, "Since you can't recognize your partner, we have run some tests and it indicates that you're suffering from amnesia."

Suddenly the door barges open and enters Soonyoung, Jihoon's friend and most probably the only one on his side who knows about your relationship.

Jihoon's eyes light up as he recognizes his friend and the realization dreads upon you.

"It's selective amnesia.", the doctor explains, carefully studying your expression, "Mr. Lee has forgotten all the memories you've shared."

Soonyoung stands up, his entire demeanor masked in disbelief, "How is that possible? He recognised everyone when I showed him the pictures! How can he not remember his girlfriend?"

"We can't give you an exact explanation but it's possible that before the accident happened Mr. Lee was thinking about her. "

You fiddle your fingers, tears wetting your cheeks and chin. Taking a deep breath, you ask, "Is there a possibility he can remember me or am I erased from his mind forever?"

You choke a sob.

"There are cases where the patients have recovered their memories. It can take two days, two weeks, two years or even two decades. There's no certainty. In some cases", the doctor relents, "they never got their memories back. I'd suggest you revisit familiar places, re-watch your shared moments captured together. Anything to make him regain his lost memories."

It's been a hell of a ride since then.

Lee Jihoon, an enigmatic independent lawyer, who has zero nonsense tolerance has now a random woman constantly claiming to be his girlfriend of two years.

And somehow his close friend is backing up that claim. Something's absolutely fishy.

Jihoon glares at Soonyoung and completely ignores your presence right next to him.

"You have brought her into my office now?", Jihoon glowers in rage, his voice low, "Soonyoung explain yourself."

As the said man opens his mouth, you gesture him to stop.

You pull out your phone, opening the gallery.

"I have already seen them.", Jihoon says unimpressed, "I get that we have met through Soonyoung but these photos suggest nothing more than us being friends."

You show him a picture where he's hugging you from behind, his chin perched on your shoulder. You're smiling looking at the camera, he's smiling looking at you.

There's another one, set in his apartment, you are drawing something on his hand and he's kissing the top of your head.

Jihoon turns away from you in his revolving chair, "This doesn't prove shit. We could have done this as friends."

You sigh, "Do you think you are that kind of person who'd do this with a mere or even a close friend?"

That shuts him up for a moment.

"Why would I be lying to you, Jihoon?", Soonyoung asks, almost offended.

"You tell me. I'm also not sure why you are doing this.", Jihoon retaliates.

There's a beat of silence before Jihoon continues, rubbing his temples in frustration, "Look, I don't wanna be an ass about it but you don't have enough proof to back up that we were in a relationship."

"But--", you're getting cut off.

"No one knows about us, none of my friends or colleagues. You show me our pictures and I admit they look intimate but it doesn't solidify that we were dating. You showed me our text conversation and never in the span of two years did I write a single 'I love you'.", he shakes his head, "All of it looks circumstantial to me."

It hits you harder than you could imagine.

Another couple of months go by and you're still not giving up.

"He was on a call with me, Soonyoung, when the accident happened he was talking to me.", you admit sobbing. Soonyoung hands you the tissue box and patiently waits for you to continue.

"He had been acting antsy for the past few days and though I wanted to share his burden, I decided not to probe. I knew he'd eventually let me know. Before the accident, the last thing he said was he had something to tell me and he was on his way to my place."

He pats on your shoulder, "Jihoon will get back his memories of you, Y/N. Let's keep trying."

But you've freed Soonyoung from the burden of constantly backing you up, still being a great friend he shows up whenever he can.

You work as an event coordinator. You were acquainted with Soonyoung through a common friend, so when over two years ago you had been contacted by him to be the planner of his brother's wedding, you agreed instantly.

You are professional. In your line of work, you're well known for professionalism.

But it was discarded the moment you saw Jihoon among the crowd on the wedding day.

You had ditched professionalism then and only once, when you asked Soonyoung for his friend's contact details. When enquired, you spilled it all to Soonyoung honestly.

Lee Jihoon is a known name in the city, he's reputed to be the best. It goes back a year when your friend's aunt had gotten scammed by a loan shark losing her property. With no lawyer interested in defending her, it was only Jihoon who had fought for her.

You swore you hadn't seen anyone cooler. The aura he emitted, the impeccable ferociousness and the sincerity he showed when he represented his client had you down bad for him.

Since then you've developed a crush but it would pass by, you thought, as there's no way you'd be crossing paths with him ever unless you have something to deal with legally.

But seeing him again during Soonyoung's brother's wedding was a sucker punch to your gut.

Suddenly, the crush resurfaces, in fact it ten folds when Jihoon looked nothing but absolutely gorgeous throughout.

"Jihoon has a foul mouth, so don't expect anything good coming out of it.", Soonyoung warns as he sends you the contact details, "Don't cry, don't take it to heart, no matter what he says."

And Soonyoung was correct.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I got your contact from Soonyoung."

When you had called Jihoon asking him if he could free some time for you as you had something to discuss, he agreed, assuming you would be needing some legal advice.

"Go on a date with me.", you say, "Please?"

The incredulous look on his face was remarkable but you had mustered all the courage within the world before sitting in front of him and discarded all the shame along with it.

"I'd be courteous since you're Soonyoung's friend but don't dare to try this act again.", Jihoon gets up, controlling himself from berating you as he walks past.

"3 dates.", you grab his wrist and he looks back at you, "That's all I want. And if you reject me after that, I won't be a bother."

Yanking his hand from your grip, he glares, "And why did you assume that I'd want to invest my time on you? You must be knowing that I'm quite busy."

"That surely makes you bitchless.", you snark back under your breath but Jihoon catches it.

He scoffs in a mix of disbelief and anger, "You--"

Clamping your hand on his mouth, you apologize quickly, "Sorry about that. And to answer your question", you grin, "Why don't you find it out yourself by going on a date with me? Tonight works for you?"

"You, for sure have a few loose screws.", Jihoon finally says, removing your hand, "Look I'm not interested and I'm busy, I work till late every night."

So Jihoon is rendered speechless when he sees you knocking on his office door late at night, to be specific at 2 AM.

"Hey, brought delicious wedding food and beer for us.", you enter and set the bag on the chair as the table was occupied, "That was one extravaganza wedding I had to arrange."

"And who said that you could be here?", Jihoon quips back, initially agitated but as the aroma of food hits his nose, reminding how he had skipped meals again and now his stomach could growl anytime, "This is rude and unethical."

"I know but I've decided to go against all ethics to woo you, Mr. Lee.", you throw him a wink which has Jihoon rolling eyes at you.

The first date was spent by eating food, chugging beer and your one sided talks.

The second one comes some days later as Jihoon agrees upon it just to make it crystal clear that he's really not interested and you should stop pestering him. He goes blunt, his words piercing you, intentionally.

Though you insist, he is adamant. So you promise to not bother him anymore and make up your mind to move on.

Surprise comes to you a month later when Jihoon asks to meet you through a text. Somehow that night ends with you tangled in his sheets and the next morning he finally agrees to date you.

"Let's keep it private for now.", Jihoon tells and before you could ask the reason, he continues, "I wanna be sure, if it works out fine, let's tell everybody."

You find it a bit skeptical but it's not impractical so you agree.

"But Soonyoung gets to know.", you declare, leaving no room for negotiations, "And my family and close friends would be knowing too."

Jihoon is your boyfriend now but something about the way let's himself around you makes you worry.

You don't expect him to act lovesick around you but he's so conserved. He barely texts you, only shows up when insisted and rarely initiates anything. There are no terms of endearment from him, no special acts.

Eight months into the relationship and you decide it's enough. You're done with his half ass slash zero commitments. So you start to act like him, zero calls, no texts and updates. You realise that you had gotten too good at the game when Jihoon knocks at your door one night.

Jihoon notices the lack of communication on your part and he doesn't let it bother him thinking you must have been busy but when it goes on for nearly a month, it strikes him that something's definitely wrong so that's how he finds himself knocking on your door.

And that night changes the dynamics between you two.

Jihoon has been getting frequent dreams nowadays. He sees you in all of them. In one, he's playing chess with you, in another you're perched on his lap humming soothing melodies to get him to nap. In some he sees your bodies tangled in the sheets.

He wakes up, his body hot, mind foggy. It's reoccurring, even pestering. He concludes that the reason behind these dreams is all the nonsense you've been feeding him daily, it's because he sees you everyday. He decides to put a stop to it.

"Something's bothering you?", you ask upon entering his cabin, "need help?"

Jihoon perks up, "And what can you help me with?"

"You might have forgotten, but we used to brainstorm a lot. You'd never go into the exact details of the case to respect privacy and we'd create hypothetical scenarios and try to come up with possible nooks and crannies."

He scoffs, "I would never take opinions from anyone. It's not my way of working, I work solely upon my hunch and instincts."

You've had a long day and aren't in a mood for banter. All you want is a warm bath and tight sleep.

So not pushing it further, you set the bags on the table and say, "I bought you food from your favourite outlet. Eat it up while it's hot and call me if you need me."

"Don't expect me to call you.", Jihoon blurts out, "When are you gonna stop doing this?"

You give him a sharp look, "Stop doing what?"

"Trying to forcefully insert yourself in my life."

You scoff, "Maybe when you stop being an asshole and try to put some effort into gaining back your memories?"

Jihoon glares at you. You glare back at him, no way you're taking shit from him today.

When his jaw ticks and eyes turn darker, you think of backing down and leaving because you know it's the look he gives when he's about to say something absolutely brutal.

"Maybe you should get a hint by now.", he says coldly, "Isn't it obvious, the reason why I remember everyone but you?"

"Jihoon, don't.", you say as soon as he opens his mouth to speak again.

"You weren't someone important in my life, Y/N. You're so insignificant that I don't even remember you."

Your throat closes up. A tear falls down your cheek and before he could continue his verbal assault, you run out of his cabin.

While doing so you bump into someone.

"I'm sorry.", you say, wiping your tears before looking up.

The woman in front of you, echoes your words and leaves. Your gaze follows her and you see her entering Jihoon's office. And rooted to the ground, through the glass window you watch an entirely different Jihoon. The frown on his face is quickly replaced by a shy smile, his body language seemingly changing to gentleness. The way he crosses the chairs to pull one out for the woman to sit, the eye contact that definitely holds a meaning.

For the first time, your head and heart come up with the same conclusion.

Later that night, Jihoon is somewhat shocked to receive a call from you.

"Who's she, Ji?", you ask from the other side, "Why were you looking at her like that?"

He straight up knows whom you are talking about and he right away knows that you're drunk.

"Where are you? Are you alone?", he asks you, already looking for his car keys.

He hears something incoherent and presses the phone tighter against his ear.

"Tell me Ji, why were you looking at her like that?", you ask again.

He halts, "Like what?"

You hum and he hears a loud thud. There's a moment of silence and Jihoon is rooted, holding his breath.

Moments later, you speak again, "Like you used to look at me. Like you like her."

"Where are you, Y/N? Can you send me your location?", he tries to coax you, "I'll come right away, we'll talk. Please tell me where you are."

Another pause and just as he's about to speak again, he hears your sobs. His heart tightens in his chest.

"D-Did I already lose you, Ji?", comes your choked voice, "Did you give up on us? Why can't you like me again?"

There is no answer to your questions.

"I love you.", you say, "I love you so much that it hurts. What do I do now? I-I think I love you way too much, much more than I thought. And I regret not telling you sooner."

Jihoon freezes, he's tongue tied, his knees almost giving up.

"And if this is the end of us, then--", the line disconnects. You've accidentally hung up.

He calls you back immediately but you don't pick up. Repeated calls, when they remain not received, he sends you a string of texts.

Already inside his car, he's about to drive away in search of you, aimlessly, when he receives a text from you.

'I'm at home.'

He let out a breath of relief, his mind pounding, his heart thumping because of your words from before.

It's been over a month since Jihoon has seen or heard from you. For a week or two it was nice, not having you breathing on his neck felt refreshing. By the end of the third week he's worrying about you, his mind is relentlessly fogged with your thoughts. Mid of fourth week and he's contemplating whether to send you a text or ask Soonyoung to do it.

It isn't relaxing anymore, it's stressful. It bothers him to all extent. He feels guilty about going overboard with his choice of words that night, he never meant to make you cry. He can't forget your drunk confessions either.

You are on a call with your mother who's nagging you to consider extending your stay when you go home for Christmas along with the equal urging of your sister and father. A lot of negotiations and you're finally agreeing to them.

"How's Jihoon? Any luck with the memories?", your sister, Eunha asks.

"Let's not talk about him.", you say after a beat, "I think, my relationship with Jihoon--", you halt, not being able to continue further, before the cracking of your voice gives it all away.

Eunha knows you better than anyone and sensing your tone, she's quick to assure you, "I've always admired your straight headedness. Whatever it is, I know you'll overcome it. And all of us are always there for you."

The doorbell rings and you frown, "Thanks Eun. I'll call you later, bye."

Checking the time and opening the door causes your frown to deepen.

Jihoon sits on the couch, an awkward tension lingering in the atmosphere. And somehow it pains you to look at him, you're avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but him, waiting for him to initiate the conversation.

A photo on the centre table catches Jihoon's attention and he picks it up, his curious eyes scrutinizing the faces. It's the two of you, an amusement park in the backdrop, grinning ear to ear, pressed cheek against cheek, radiating love through the photo itself.

You quickly snatch the frame out of his grip, setting it down on the same centre table.

"I hate amusement parks", Jihoon mutters more to himself but loud enough for your ears to pick up, "Because they're so crowded and everyone's screaming.", he looks up at you, "I went there with you?"

You just give a simple nod, no explanation, no backstory.

I love going to amusement parks. And you don't hate them anymore.

"Why are you here?", you ask him finally.

"I'm sorry.", he blurts out, "I'm really sorry for that night."

Your brows furrow for a moment before the neutral expression returns, "You didn't have to come here to apologise, a call would have sufficed."

For the record, you just know you had called him as an aftermath of that night but you don't remember, not even a bit of things you had said and you don't plan on bringing that up either.

Jihoon notices your defensiveness and to test it he stands up to walk towards you but you're immediately backing up.

"I'm feeling under the weather so if you're done, could you leave?", you speak still avoiding his gaze, "And I know you don't want me anywhere near you, rest assured I won't be a bother."

"What do you mean?", he asks closing in, "Are you still upset at me, even after I apologized?"

You keep stepping back, "I'm not upset. I'm just not feeling well, please leave."

I think you already replaced me, Ji.

Your back hits the wall and reaching you with long strides, Jihoon is caging you between the wall and his arms.

He hovers over you, "For the past months, you've been begging for my attention, trying everything to establish our relationship, so what happened, what's with this change in demeanour?"

He leans in, your faces merely an inch apart.

"Isn't this what you wanted?", your somber gaze meets his fiery ones.

He's not sure what he wants anymore.

"I have been having dreams about you, about us.", he admits, stepping away, "And I don't think they're just infringements of my imagination."

"What did you see?", your voice comes out in a whisper.

He then proceeds to tell you about the dreams and not so surprisingly you have stories and even photos for some cases to collate with his description of dreams.

"So did we record it as well?", Jihoon asks amused as you dab your hot pink cheeks, "I wanna see it though--"

You're slapping a hand on his mouth as he blatantly teases and asks you about the wet dreams he has been seeing which wakes him up with a tent in his pants.

"Let's brainstorm.", Jihoon is setting his briefcase on the table suddenly, taking out some flaps.

You eye him in suspicion, "Did you hit your head again, you're acting strange. You're acting like my Jihoonie."

The corners of his lips twitch, trying to suppress a smile, "Maybe your Jihoonie wants to make a comeback."

"I'll be waiting with my arms wide open, I miss my boyfriend.", you admit, your tone emitting sadness, your gaze meets his and you're smiling, "Thanks Jihoon."

Maybe that night at his workplace, you read it all wrong. Maybe your mind was too tired, your heart was too hurt so they made a fuss over nothing because you know your Jihoon would never do something to hurt you, even when he can't remember you. Even though his head can't recognise you, there's a hope that his heart would still beat for you.

He grins wider, "Don't get me wrong, I just came here to test your problem solving abilities."

"You should be thanking the heavens that I didn't choose law as my career, you'd have been jobless otherwise.", you retort smugly.

Maybe running your mouth isn't the best option, especially when with Jihoon because now he's running his fourth hypothetical case with you, pinching your arm whenever your drowsy eyes are shutting close.

"Another wedding?", you hum in delight, "Ah, god bless you."

Joshua laughs, "Is it such good news to you that another of my friends is getting married?"

"Isn't it obvious? It keeps the business running.", you muse, eating the brownies he has baked for you, "This is the 4th one right? Why are all your friends getting married this year?"

Joshua ponders, "Beats me as well. How are the brownies, sweetheart? I tried a new recipe today."

"And it's my new favourite.", you say, making him grab a bite of his own baking, "Makes me wanna kiss your hands."

He unabashedly holds his hands to your face only to get a swat.

"That's not what you said you'd do, sweetheart.", he feigns offense, "Shouldn't you start commissioning me by now? I think I bring in a fair share of customers."

He's absolutely right. Joshua is people's people. Everyone knows him. You knew Soonyoung through Joshua, in fact most people know others via him.

The common link, the mutual friend that everyone talks about is actually Joshua Hong. He's the gossip monger, nothing gets past him. Not even the fact that you had gotten into a relationship.

You were an expert in keeping personal matters under the sleeves and as asked by Jihoon, only Soonyoung was made known. But two weeks under his observation and he's declaring that there's no point in hiding, that he can tell by your body language that you're dating.

You didn't deny, you knew Joshua is perceptive. Though you felt bad for hiding who you're dating, he waved it off with all smiles stating he'll get to know when the time is right.

"Correct, I should start commissioning you but for baking me the best confectioneries.", you chirp happily, "The lemon drizzle chocolate cake you made at the previous wedding, I can't stress how good it was. Only you could make chocolate and lime flavour work like magic."

"You look happy, sweetheart.", Joshua comments casually, "How's things going with Mr. Boyfriend?"

"It's complicated, Josh.", your mood sets down.

Joshua takes a look at your face and decides to drop the topic.

"What do you think of me, Josh?", you ask with a serious tone, throwing him off bound.

"You want the truth, sweetheart?", he asks softly, his hand already atop yours, rubbing your skin soothingly.

Just one please from you and Joshua is baring his heart out, "I don't know who made you doubt yourself but to me, you're my rock. I have tons of friends but you're among the ones I'd always seek solace. When I had no one, you were there to support me."

He smiles embarrassed as you catch his teary eyes. Joshua is always cheery but there are rare moments like this where you get to see his vulnerable side.

"I was almost out of business when you took me under your wing until I had accumulated enough capital and reputation to establish the standalone business.", he fondly pats your head, "You barely knew me then, just know that you saved my life back then. So I'd never accept anything apart from compliments from anyone about you."

"Joshua Hong, it's too early, don't make me cry.", you say wiping your tears.

His laugh reverberates pleasantly, "You look pretty even when crying, sweetheart."

"You mean ugly."

"I said what I meant, sweetheart."

You could never win against Joshua.

"You're going to Soonyoung's housewarming party right?"

"Only if you're going.", Joshua sighs, leaning back, stretching his arms, "Socializing can be pretty tiring, sweetheart, so I need you as my charge-up."

Soonyoung thinks, no he's sure that Jihoon has been acting differently.

"Weeks ago", Soonyoung pulls up his phone, "I even have proof, you said you weren't coming to my housewarming party. I was hurt, I still am."

Jihoon grimaces.

"You said that you won't go if Y/N's going.", he almost shoves the phone on the lawyer's face, "And now you're here just to ask if she's coming. Why does it matter so much?"

Jihoon gets a little frightened when he sees Soonyoung holding up his hand. He's gonna count points now and after each point, Jihoon knows he's gonna get earfuls.

"First of all, I'm your friend so why does it matter who's coming or not. You should be there ", one finger down.

"Second, unlike you, Y/N is a decent person who doesn't abandon her friends.--"

"When did I abandon you--"

Without batting an eye, Soonyoung continues, "Third, I don't care if you're coming or not."

Jihoon cowers when Soonyoung puts his hand down smiling, almost eerie, "Now, tell me what changed? Are you getting your memories back?"

"Well maybe? First I've been having dreams, now they've turned into flashes. It has been difficult, this whole thing since the accident. But I think I'll get those missing pieces of my memories back soon.", Jihoon smiled wistfully.

"You better be on your knees and apologize to your girlfriend when you do so.", Soonyoung says with an undertone but smiles nonetheless, "I deserve an apology as well."

"Did you just curse?", your brows crease.

When there's nothing but silence that follows, your eyes squint as you speak again, "So you're not gonna answer me?"

Jihoon frowns, "Who's Joshua and why are you taking him with you as your plus one?"

"We both didn't have a plus one so we decided to go together, that's it.", you explain, "And I know you said you wouldn't go to the party if I go so what's the problem here?"

"Can you stop please?", he pouts and you fight back the strong urge to kiss it away, "It was before, now I want to go but with you."

You grin, "Sorry, but I can't ditch Josh. There's time, find someone."

He nods, accepting defeat. He follows you from the kitchen to the dinning as you set the plates on the table.

You both have fallen into a routine, Jihoon has been acting awfully comfortable around you lately. He drops by your place anytime, he knows your passcode. When you call to remind him about having meals he makes excuses to see you.

"The lawsuit against the insurance company that I've been working on", he says sitting across from you, "The one we discussed last month, I am planning to try the method you suggested. You might be right, I think these people are collectively trying to extort money in the name of insurance from the company, all of them have huge debts piled up and they're in a closely knitted group."

"Jihoon, let me warn you, it might be the case that your client is actually the perpetrator. What would you do then? You're supposed to fight for your client, not against them. You'll lose trust, people won't come to you."

"Then let it be. Maybe I'd get less cases, but people who are wrongfully accused would have their trust in me. I won't side with those who are on the wrong side of the law."

You give him a proud smile as you both eat in a soothing silence before he leaves your apartment as it drizzles outside.

By the time Jihoon reaches his apartment, the dizzles have turned into a heavy downpour with lightning jagging across the sky. And by the time he's out of the shower he can hear the thunderstorms soaring.

His head hurts with an intensity causing his knees to buckle up. There's a flash again and despite the ache, he's searching for his car keys.

Yet another one of his numerous calls remains unreceived. With every second that ticks away, Jihoon feels his heart constricting. However, his eyes glints hope when he sees the glimpse of the familiar building, nearing it.

His nervousness causes him to mispunch the code a fair number of times. Entering, he comes across an expected sight. The surroundings are pitch black, just becoming visible when the lightning strikes.

"Y/N?", he shouts. No response. He puts on the flashlight of his cell phone and starts searching for you cautiously. He takes a deep breath, all he has to do is search across a hall, two rooms and a kitchen.

"Y/N?", he shouts again. Still no response. Just as he's about to stride towards the bedroom, from the corner of his eyes he spots a silhouette somewhere in the kitchen. He turns, focusing the flashlight, to see your weak form. You are supporting yourself by the counter with your fingers jabbed into your ears. His gaze softens.

He lunges towards you, engulfing your shaking form into a tight hug, "Shh...I'm here."

"Ji...", you voice out weakly, wrapping your hands around his waist instantly. The call of this nickname stirs something within him. He rubs your back, peppering soft kisses on your forehead. Another lightning strikes and you're shivering in his embrace.

The raindrops hitting the window panes erupts the stillness of the night. Only with the rain stopping, you find yourself calming down. And you find yourself in Jihoon's embrace.

"How did you-- Why did you come back?", you ask, pulling away but Jihoon doesn't let go of you.

He wipes your tears and observes you carefully, "Are you okay now?"

You nod, "Thanks, Jihoon."

"I felt like I needed to be with you. I don't know how but I just knew that you've astraphobia so I drove back as fast as I could."

You feel a sense of relief, "You already knew, you're just starting to get your memories back, Jihoon."

He stares at you, his eyes darting to your lips often.

You stare back at him, his eyes asking for your permission.

There's an unspoken consent and instantly, his lips are on your. Pressed against the counter, he grabs the back of your neck deepening the kiss. His thumb runs against the column of your throat, making your head go dizzy.

You gasp into the kiss when he lifts and sets you up on the counter.

"Ji..", you say breathlessly, "We probably shouldn't--"

His lips work now, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, "I want to love my girlfriend, is it so wrong?"

"Whom you don't even remember--", another kiss to shut you up. The way you moan is enough for Jihoon to almost make a mess in his pants.

"Which room?", his voice is thick with desire as he carries you now, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Tell me before I fuck you against the wall.”

One hand slides between your legs while the other supports your weight, as he lays you on the bed his fingers exploring through the fabric of your dress. “Tell me to stop.", he whispers against your neck, nipping slightly.

"Don't stop, Ji", you whine and that breaks him completely.

His breath catches in his throat at your intense gaze and he leans down to whisper in your ear his hands trail down your sides, making you shiver. His hands push your panties down, sliding the fingers across your wet slit, “Was it lonely here without me?”

“Please Ji, need you.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he holds your wrists above your head. “You're so adorable when you're needy like this…”, he presses his lips to your neck, trailing kisses downwards, “Such a perfect, impatient thing.”

He hooks his fingers in your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist as he settles between your thighs. He looks down at you with loving eyes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "My love, you're killing me with these eyes.”

Your body moves on its own, trying to find friction, soft gasps coming out each time you feel his hard clothed length.

A deep chuckle escapes him, "So responsive. Is this what you wanted? To make me go wild?" He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss while one hand traces your curves, “Such a good girl.”, he whispers against your lips.

He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, his own burning with desire, "I'm going to take you hard and fast, tonight.”

A wolfish grin spreads across his face at your eager response. In one swift motion, he tears off your clothes, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darkens with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "Damn, you're gorgeous." he growls, quickly shedding his own clothes.

He settles back between your thighs, his hardness pressing urgently against you. With a sharp inhale, he slides into your welcoming heat, filling you completely. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, setting a relentless pace. His hips snapping against yours with each powerful thrust.

He leans down to roughly claim your lips, swallowing your moans as he continues his frenzied pace. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place. "Take it, baby. Take every inch of my cock.”

“Fuck, missed you so much Ji, missed being ruined by you.”, you say in between of sobs and gasps, clenching around him.

His movements become more urgent, more possessive. He knows you're close, and it only spurs him on, "Squeeze me just like that. Milk my cock with your perfect little pussy.”

With a feral growl, he buries himself deeper inside you, grinding against your g-spot as he unleashes a torrent of thrusts. Your screams of pleasure fill the room as you reach your peak, your inner walls convulsing around his pistoning cock.

As you come down from your high, he continues to pound into you mercilessly, seeking his own release. His face contorts with pleasure as he chases his climax, his body glistening with sweat.

With one final, brutal thrust, he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your womb as he roars his release. He collapses on top of you, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck... Are you okay?”

He nuzzles his face against your neck, his body still trembling as he asks softly, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

His large hands gently roam your body, checking for any bruises or marks from his rough handling. "Answer me, please?”

A sigh of relief escapes him as he feels your gentle nod against his cheek. "Good", he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. He gently nips at your lower lip, "Though I do need to lotion those lovely handprints on your hips... they're quite noticeable.”

“If I let you, it'll lead to another round.”, you say, still breathless and smiling.

“I wouldn't mind. Would you?”, he waggles his eyebrows comically, trying to elicit another giggle from you and maybe get inside you again.

Seeing the crowd, you realize that Soonyoung, if not as much as Joshua, is quite popular.

There's a very limited amount of people you can recognise and the majority you don't. You stick close to Joshua and leave his side when the flock of people keep coming and greeting him.

"There you are.", Soonyoung smiles as you hand him a gift, "How's things going?"

You understand the insinuation, giving a genuine wide grin, "A lot better, you must be knowing, he's getting his memories back bit by bit."

He pats on your shoulder, "Soon, he'll be remembering it all."

Though it's crowded but there's a touch of coziness, you like the atmosphere. Taking permission from Soonyoung, you make a quick tour of his new house. It's impressive, it's warm given the purpose, he bought this house to settle in once he gets married. His parents, including him, have been looking for a partner for him.

You conquer a table at the corner, sitting quietly and sipping on the drink that the host himself has given you.

"There you are, sweetheart.", Joshua settles beside you, taking a sip of what you were drinking.

Joshua is extremely fun and must have a person to be around, specially at the parties. He would point at random people and drop the juiciest gossip about them. What makes it more interesting is that Joshua's memory is photographic and storytelling is top notch.

You'd ask him about something that occurred four years ago he'd be spilling it all out unabashedly, doesn't even need a brush up.

'Just got here, Soonyoung told me you're in the lawn, I'll come and find you.'

A smile creeps up on your face as you read the text from Jihoon, keeping your phone aside.

Joshua demands your attention once again as he points at a woman, wearing an unmistakable neon coloured jacket.

"That's Arong", he says, "Runs her own boutique. She's a Richie rich."

You squint your eyes to figure her out and surprisingly she's someone you know. She's the same woman you had seen visiting Jihoon's office.

With your interest picked, you ask, "How do you know her?"

"We're good friends, went to the same university.", Joshua eyes glint as if he remembers something amusing, excitedly turning his head to look at you, "She's quite a character you know, she used to hangout with a guy discreetly. I think they had the same group and wanted to keep it low. She's not the kind to commit to a relationship."

You listen quietly.

His eyes turn big, emitting specks of energy as he continues, "Here's the interesting part. She knew that the guy liked her, even after that, she indulged him, went on dates, hooked up with him, all of this went on casually. But when the guy finally asks her out, she brushes him off."

Joshua laughs, "Can you believe it? She doesn't even reject him, she just brushes him off. Imagine the humiliation the guy faced.", he quotes, "By the way, it's not her first drill. From what I heard, all her words not mine, that the guy was really invested in her and wasn't willing to give up, must be a romantic kind. It's kinda blurred out on what happened but she did kinda bruise his ego."

There's something unsettling about this whole narrative. You don't know why but your chest caves in.

"So some days later, he comes back only to tell her that he's dating. Such a foul move.", he sighs, "Amidst all of this, I feel bad for the girl he is dating. I mean she's basically a rebound and probably doesn't even know. It was so wrong, he shouldn't have played it like that. How can he play with someone's feelings when he has practically gone through that himself?"

"When did this happen, Josh?", you ask in a quiet voice, "Do you know his name?"

Joshua ponders for a moment, of course he remembers, "This happened almost three years ago. If I had to be specific, hmm, I think it's around when you start dating as well.", he misses the way face pales, "I don't know his name but I have seen him once or twice while I was face timing Arong. Not sure if he's invited to this party."

'Found ya.'

Your phone buzzes with Jihoon's text and you look ahead to see him walking towards you.

"That's him!", Joshua points out at Jihoon, "He's the guy we just talked about! Oh my god, why is he coming towards us?", he turns his head again to look at you, "Do you know him?"

It all makes sense now. Jihoon's agreement to date you, to him emphasising on keeping it hidden, to his non commitmental attitude. You've been played. You should have known.

Jihoon is in front of you now and all you tell Joshua before walking out is, "Stop Jihoon from following me."

The party was on Sunday and it's Friday when you decide that you won't be taking any more work, won't work except for the scheduled ones, to give yourself a long break. It feels rewarding after spending effort tirelessly throughout the year.

You're exhausted physically, mentally and unavailable emotionally.

Ending things with Jihoon was easy because there wasn't anything to end in the first place.

You've met Arong, you've met her in the presence of Joshua, Soonyoung and Jihoon himself. This was specially to let Jihoon know what he has done, to hold him accountable for something that doesn't remember.

"I'm breaking up with you."

You aren't crying, not a single choke in your voice, eyes void of any emotion.

"Since you don't remember any of it, not even us being in some sort of relationship", your hands ball into a fist, gaze lowering, "And since none of it was ever real, I'm sure you're relieved."

"Y/N, please--"

"If you ever get your memories back, please don't make it an excuse to come see me. I don't want to see or talk to you ever again."

Jihoon grabs your hand once you turn to walk out, "I don't believe that I could do something like this. I'll get my memories back and when I do, let me--"

"No don't.", Joshua steps up, yanking your arm out of his grip, "Didn't you hear what she said?"

"And who are you to come between us?"

"Someone who's does not play with feelings."

And all of a sudden there's a scuffle. Jihoon is grabbing the collar of the shirt Joshua's wearing and the latter tackles him down on the ground.

You watch in horror, as the two grown men indulge in a fight where the rest had to step in to separate them.

"The audacity, ridiculous!", Joshua huffs as you and Arong hold him.

"Says the one who doesn't know boundaries!", comes Jihoon's retort in Soonyoung's hold.

His eyes dart back at you, holding so much vulnerability that if you hadn't known the truth, he'd be in your arms by now.

"Y/N, I don't believe that it was all an act, that I hadn't fallen in love with you. It can't be, my head might not remember but my heart has definitely not forgotten you."

You chuckle bitterly, "That's delirium, Jihoon. You're busted and now making excuses. You had something important to tell me, you were on the phone with me when the accident happened. The way you had been acting before that, I'm sure you were going to break up with me. So save it. We're done. It's over."

"To the last wedding of the year!"

You raise your glass to the toast absentmindedly, waiting for the head of catering services to finish his speech.

"We're done with the headache.", Wonwoo leans in to speak into your ear.

A slap on his arm but you're laughing nonetheless, "You shouldn't be saying that."

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo enunciates, "They asked for the change of flower arrangement three times. You know how difficult it is to convince the suppliers at the last moment."

You give him a pat on his shoulder, "You did great as always though. Imagine being in Joshua's shoes, he had to add two tiers to the cake as a last moment request."

"He's a saint for agreeing to it, I'd never--"

"Wonu, that's our job, as long as it's not unrealistic, we'll try to fulfil it.", your tone is reprimanding.

"So we're leaving as planned on the weekend right?", he speaks over your shoulder, as you check off the items from the inventory list.

You both are now behind the barracks, wrapping things up, "Yes.", turning to look at him you thank him, "Also, sorry for crashing in the trip along with Junhee."

"Oh please, my girlfriend absolutely loves you, maybe more than me? And your house is literally on the way, so no sweat at all", Wonwoo laments, shaking his head, "Junhee has been feeling guilty about what happened. She blames herself, you met Jihoon because he was handling her aunt's case back then."

"It's not her fault. I'll talk to her, maybe she needs some lecture on how to not connect dots every time.", you frown, "And thanks. I'm glad that I got some people who are genuine even though my person wasn't."

All Wonwoo does is give you an empathetic smile.

Jihoon leaves no stones unturned.

"Doctor, I'm willing to do anything", his hands are clasped in desperation, "Please, help me get my memories back."

The doctor sighs, he's tired of seeing Jihoon's face every other day. The doctor gets the urgency but his patient is not understanding the implications.

"What do I need to do? Any brain exercising? New medicines? I'm ready to be a guinea pig for scientific research as well. Just name it, I'll do it if it brings my memories back."

His house is a mess. He's searching every corner, every shelf, every drawer but he gets nothing significant, nothing to get back his memories of you.

Soonyoung quietly watches over as Jihoon lays in slumber. He was finally able to get his friend to sleep, an attempt to free him from restlessness even if it's for limited time.

He can't bear to see his dear friend in this condition anymore and almost calls you but he doesn't because it's not his place. He only hopes for you both to be freed of despair.

The hunt goes on, Jihoon looks like a wreck, he is a wreck. Tries to hit his head again, thanks to Soonyoung's presence he's saved, tries unprescribed/unwarranted pills for memory loss and gets admitted to hospital. Vomits tons, loses appetite along with weight.

A hard slap lands across his face and Jihoon winces. Soonyoung had enough. He gives him a diary which Jihoon recognises as his own.

"I found this on top of the almirah, while you were admitted. You can search the obvious places. I haven't gone through it but it's your personal diary. Hopefully this will help."

And it certainly does. Maybe the accident had made him forget about his most important habit. He goes through it, consumes whatever he has written.

Each page hits a nerve, bringing back visions.

He now knows two things, he definitely liked Arong and found you annoying.

When Arong rejected him, he wasn't surprised. He knew Arong, he knew it was something she could pull. His heart wasn't bruised, it was his ego. He couldn't take it.

And you came into the picture, an annoying woman who likes him. Even though he's a rational lawyer, his practicality leaves him when goes by when decides to follow the classic 'to get over someone is to get under someone else'.

It was fine, he found you tolerable. But his initial plan of breaking up after dating a few months started to crumble when he found himself worrying about you, wanting to see you more and yearning for you more. He was rational after all, so he knew it was him changing. His feelings for you ran deeper than what he had for Arong.

He realised that he liked Arong but he loved you, he loves you now.

And as the realisation settles in again, into the present Jihoon, he falls apart.

You don't like the vibe, no you hate it. Your mother doesn't stop making your favourite dishes, your sister doesn't even throw banter, always agreeing with whatever you're suggesting for Christmas tree decoration and your father keeps on buying you presents discreetly which is also not so discreet.

And somehow, Seungkwan, your sister's boyfriend, is walking on eggshells whenever he's around you.

You miss the laughs, you miss the dramatics, you miss the goofiness.

"I'm not dying, y'all. This isn't the end of the world either."

Silence.

"Can we get back to normal? You all are being extraordinarily nice to me and every time you do so I think about the reason and it makes me think about him which is certainly what I don't wanna do."

You lower your gaze again, mind involuntarily going back to Jihoon, the way he fooled you within the entire span of your relationship. Your naive nature acts as a blindfold, causing you to trust people easily and you take pride in it because you are surrounded by good people who never took advantage of it but that's until Jihoon happened.

You gave him your heart, he crumpled upon it and your trust, he stomped on it.

"We're re-doing the deco of the Christmas tree, it's awful.", your sister, Eunha proclaims, "You just sit and watch."

You look at her, a smile gracing your lips and it's contagious, everyone is smiling.

And follows chaos, returns the banter and it's all over the place as the liveliness reappears. You watch it all with your lips curl up.

Christmas comes as fast and you're really excited, first because you know this year you're getting most gifts, second, like every time you won't have to leave the day after, you have a whole month to yourself, to be around your loved ones.

The house lights up in your favourite colours and you chirp around the house happily.

"So when are you going to propose?", you bump his shoulder, whispering into his ear as he prepares the batter for the cake.

Being the dramatic he is, Seungkwan gasps, glares and bumps back at you, "March, on her birthday. She'd like the ring right?"

"She'd love it, it's so beautiful. I can't wait to capture how ugly she'd look while crying.", you laugh at the thought.

"Hey! Watch it, she'll be beautiful even if she snots.", he retorts, "Our babies will be pretty."

"Oh my god, such a simp.", you fake a gag, "I'm gonna puke."

He suddenly pats your back, without looking at you and that somehow conveys that he's there for you.

As the night draws in, you excuse yourself and beeline into your room, locking the door, giving your parents and your sister and her boyfriend some time to themselves. They are bundled on the couch and the carpet in pairs sharing loving gazes and gentle touches.

As you lay on the bed, your favourite pillow starts to get stained with your tears. Your body shakes with sobs as you hide your face behind your palms.

You miss Jihoon.

You miss his voice, his laughs. You miss his silent affection, the way his gaze affirmed many unspoken words.

It's been four months since you called off things. And it hurts how easy it was for him to accept it all, the lack of contact says it all. You haven't blocked him anywhere and he hasn't tried reaching you either.

Why would he? You gifted him the only thing he wanted from you, a break up. Maybe love isn't the same for all, maybe it doesn't come in the same form.

There are repeated knocks on your door and you lay holding your breath, hoping whoever is on the other side thinks that you've fallen asleep and leaves.

The knocks don't stop, they only become frantic and you hear Eunha's distraught voice, "Y/N, you need to be out asap. Only you can stop dad please!"

What could have happened? You rush off to the bathroom to wash your face before opening the door.

You freeze watching the scene unfold.

Jihoon getting on his knees at the doorstep, bowing his head down in front of your seething father who's holding an umbrella, it's end pointed at him.

"Sir.", he calls your father calmly, bringing everyone's attention back to him.

"You must know what I have done to your daughter. I'm ready for whatever punishment you have for me."

He looks at you, as if his words are for you, "Beat me as much as you want, don't look at my face if it disgusts you but when your rage resides please hear me out. I won't leave until you listen to me. So if you want to get rid of me, you'll have to listen to me.", Jihoon gives a sad smile before grabbing the edge of the umbrella and resting it on his shoulder.

"Have you gone mad?", you scold him, "Get up."

He raises his hand to stop you from rushing towards him. He chooses to ignore your words, his gaze trained on your father.

"Are you contemplating, Sir?", he chortles, "Wasn't it bad enough, what I did to your daughter?"

You shake your head, closing your eyes. You know what Jihoon is doing, he's provoking your father and everyone else.

The rage that had subsided a bit, seems to reignite as your father tightens his grip on the object on his hand.

And you could only watch through it.

"She's the youngest of the household, we've raised her with love, pampered her to bits!"

"The last thing we want is to see her in tears that too on a day like this!"

"How dare you show your face here after breaking her heart in the worst way?"

And the words keep pouring in.

Jihoon is squeezing your arm into a tight grip, hissing in pain.

"What's your motive this time?", you ask while dabbing one of the bruises with disinfectant, particularly hard making him wince, "The Lee Jihoon, I know doesn't care about anyone except himself."

Jihoon's unwavering gaze does nothing to answer your queries and you refuse to meet his eyes.

"You can stay in my room for the night, leave by tomorrow morning, as early as possible."

Just as you get up to leave, he stands as well, blocking your path.

"I lost the insurance lawsuit case.", he says, searching for your eyes, "I ratted out my own clients."

"You came all the way here just to tell me this?"

He shakes his head down, with a small stretch of lips. When he looks up again you're shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"I got my memories back, Y/N.", his voice cracks, "All of them."

"Great.", you scoff in distaste, "I had already warned you to not make it an excuse to see me."

He kneels again, on both knees, "Would you please give me a chance to explain?"

You hate it to admit but you've never seen Jihoon this vulnerable. If anything, he's the type to carry pride and arrogance in his aura. He has never (his words) bowed to anyone and here he is doing it for the second time tonight.

"Jihoon, it doesn't matter anymore. You may not have loved me for even a moment, but I did, with all my heart. And I don't want to go through it all over again.", you say, urging him to be on his feet, "It won't change our past, but it has definitely changed the way I am going to perceive people now."

Jihoon lets out a sob and you freeze.

"I love you, Y/N.", he chokes out in words, as his sobs turn into cries, "That was what I was going to tell you on the day of the accident. I had been so ansty because I realised I was in love, I was going to come clean, I was going to confess."

"I just wanted a honesty in our relationship, you built it entirely around the other way. You didn't love me when we got together but I thought you did and this is the pressing wound, I have."

You don't let him speak further, after putting a very restless Jihoon to sleep on your bed, you ponder over a lot of things.

It's been over a month and the dynamics between you two has changed. When Jihoon begged and begged to give him a chance, to prove himself worthy of you, you denied at first. You had forgotten how persistent Jihoon could be, how convincing he can be.

"Our relationship will be on a trial basis. And there are rules.", you declare with a bored expression, "First, you can't tell anyone we're dating. Second, don't expect me to update you about anything, if I feel like you'll get to know, if not then you won't. Third, skinship is allowed only behind closed doors. You have six months and if within that I feel like you're worthy, we make it public or we part ways."

You give it a last try, to push his buttons and make him admit that he can't be bothered to do this. That he isn't the kind to work under conditions. You're sure that this is when he finally stops.

The corners of your lips twitch as you suppress your triumphant smile. By the way Jihoon stays silent, you're sure he's speechless. And it's just a matter of time he walks out, he walks away from your life.

"I agree with all of it." he says with sincerity, "For the following six months, I'll be the boyfriend, you want me to be. Mold me into anything, I'll take the shape of your like."

Your heart constricts, brain shots, stupid senses, you wanna scream. You swear you'll break him under your watch, it won't be a month and he'll be bailing out.

And Jihoon swears, he'll get you back, that this time, that he'll love you right.

It's Eunha's birthday and Seungkwan made you arrange a big event since she's gonna get proposed.

You can't stress how nervous you are even after trying your best to suit the taste of everything to be of Eunha's liking along with calming Seungkwan who's about to puke anytime because of his anxiety hitting the roofs.

And now your sister's crying, her now fiancé is crying but you're bawling. It's so beautiful, the entire scene that it makes you a bit too emotional, so you go out to breathe some fresh air and calm your nerves.

You feel a presence beside you and suddenly your head is being downed on a shoulder.

"I have kept your favourite chocolates in your purse. Have them to calm your nerves, your cycle date is approaching. I have restocked the supplies.", Jihoon says, "And made sure that no one is watching us now."

You tangle your arm with his and watch the stars in awe.

"One of your aunts kept asking me if I am single since you introduced me as your friend.", he says, leaning his head against yours.

"What did you say?"

"That I am taken and so in love."

Your heart flutters.

Jihoon has become calmer than he already was. He does everything you say, no questions asked. He waits for you inside his car every night to escort you when you're done for the day. He texts you frequently, though it's mostly monologue without any expectations of getting a reply.

He sleeps on the same bed if you ask him to, he takes the couch when you don't. There's always an ask of consent if he wants a kiss.

Nothing is out of scope, he'll bring you the moon if you want it.

"You look the prettiest tonight, you always do.", he kisses the top of your head, "Thanks for wearing the brooch, I bought you."

"Jihoon", you look up, your face perched on his shoulder blade and gazes meeting, "Why do you always look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you love me.", your hand slips into his and he encases it as if his life depends on it.

"I do love you.", comes his immediate assurance, "I may not use nicknames, not big on PDA and not be expressive on texts. But I love you and even though I was late to confess the last time I hope at some point I made you feel loved, made you see that guy who's usually not a fan of skinship initiated hugs and held hands, who hates amusement parks had planned every outing there because you like it, who doesn't like carrots either but picks them out of your plate so you don't have to feel guilty for throwing them."

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and do his.

It's true. Now as well, Jihoon doesn't text 'I love you's, doesn't use nicknames, nor does he gushes over. He's still silent, acts of service loud enough as his love language.

Jihoon looks away, exhaling sharply, "I'm sorry, I started dating to rebound. I think I'll regret this as long as I'm alive."

"I'm on a mission and you're making it impossible to follow through."

It's snowing. Jihoon, as usual, waits for you to wrap things up. Today, he's standing in a corner, inside the venue as snow pours outside.

You are almost done with stuffs when you spot him. He smiles, eyes forming slits as you walk up to him.

His presence, you think, feels like a fresh breath in the hustle. You're just about to greet him when--

"Y/N!", you turn back to hear the yell of your name only to find one of your colleagues, Ahin, rushing towards you, "You forgot to take the inventory list."

Jihoon takes it as que to leave your side. He's about to turn but freezes when Ahin asks, "Who's he?"

As practiced, as he's been doing it for months, he's about to answer, "I'm her friend--"

"Boyfriend.", you cut him off, taking the papers from her hand, "This is Jihoon, my boyfriend."

Ahin is shocked, Jihoon goes stiff and you bite your lips to suppress your laugh. You know tomorrow's gonna be chaos at work.

As Jihoon crosses the threshold of your apartment, he's pressed against the closed door.

Your lips press on his with intensity while his hands tangle in your hair. It's a full makeout session and you're pulling him into the bedroom.

"Since when am I your boyfriend?", there's a tease in his tone as he looks up from between your legs, his chin glistening from your juices, "I thought we still have a month left?"

"Consider this as an early promotion.", you grab a fistful of his hair and push back his mouth to work on cunt, "Let's love now, Ji. Let's be together and happy."

"Let's love then.", he dives in, his tongue parting your folds and finding your clit. He circles it slowly, then sucks gently, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.

He continues lavishing attention on your clit, his tongue alternating between rapid flicks and slow, sensual licks. One hand slides up to caress your breast, teasing your nipple gently. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he pleasures you thoroughly.

"Ji, fuck!", your heads befalls on the pillows, eyes close shut.

His mouth is relentless, your pleasure his sole focus. He eats you out with abandon, his own hunger evident in the way he devours you. Your cries and whimpers only spur him on, his tongue never stopping its assault on your sensitive clit, "Fuck, you taste so good."

"Ji, can't hold back anymore", you're whimpering as the fisting on his hair tightens.

Upon hearing your breathy confession, Jihoon doubles his efforts, his tongue now moving in tight, rapid circles around your clit. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right to stimulate that perfect spot, "That's it, come for me. Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue."

He can feel you tensing, your hips bucking against his face as you get closer to the edge. He growls around your sensitive flesh, the vibrations pushing you closer. He hooks his fingers deeper inside you, rubbing that spot mercilessly, "Now, Love now."

He continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're a quivering mess beneath him. Only then does he pull back, his chin glistening with your arousal. He climbs up your body, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He smiles against your lips feeling your fingers working on the button on his trouser.

"You'll have to leave early tomorrow morning," he says, grabbing both of your hands, "This was for you to have a sound sleep."

"But--"

"You can have me all you want tomorrow, after you return.", he is already descending down the bed to bring warm washcloth to clean you up, "Promise."

"Ji, next month, I'll be gone for a week."

Jihoon hums, as he cleans you up gently, "A destination wedding right?"

You hum sleepily, "Do you wanna join? We could extend the stay and use it as a break."

"I'll check my schedule and let you know. It's a good idea actually."

"I love you, Ji.", your drowsiness amuses Jihoon, as he watches you fall into slumber, "Wanna brainstorm cases with you for the rest of my life."

He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, listening to your soft snores, "And all I wanna do is be the best partner to you. I love you too, dearest darl+ing."

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

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chaotic-mystery · 3 days ago

Text

Hotline to Heaven | Joel Miller x reader

✧ Summary: An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

✧ Content Warnings: MDNI ! 18+ only. dom!reader, sub!joel, pre outbreak, empty house means he's up to no good, porn connoisseur, phone sex, dirty talk ( i mean duh) mutual masturbation, swearing, orgasm denial, safeword mentioned but not used, talking him through it this time, a little aftercare, slight mention of one of my favorite movies bc I know Joel would've liked it too.

✧ Authors Note: This is my submission for @wannab-urs DMAMC 2025 that you can find the masterlist here. A goal of mine this year is to step out of my writing bubble when it comes to challenges and write things I normally wouldn't on my own. If you read my work, you know this is a roles reversed situation for me and I'm nervous to share it but also excited! Thank you, Gin, for letting me be a part of this, I love you <3 As always big ups to my twin for beta reading for me, love you, Ali.

red line divider | cover and matching dividers made by (Ali) & I |

✧ WC: 2.4K | masterlist | requests | update blog | ✧

Being a single dad was not an easy job, but Joel made it work somehow. With lots and lots of pancakes and promised sleepovers at friends houses if Sarah kept her grades up.

Another Friday night at home alone while Sarah was in the next town over, probably hopped up on soda and candy, Joel digs out his laptop from the bag on the floor and sets it up on the cherrywood coffee table. The house was quiet for the most part, the low humming of the dryer down the hallway in the laundry room.

Booting up the old computer, Joel tilts his head back on the sofa and makes sure his brown curtains are closed along with the white blinds he just put up a few weeks ago. Joel's finger moves against the worn trackpad, opening up the DVD rom to pop in the movie he rented from blockbuster on his drive home from dropping off Sarah.

Joel reads the cover while it loads to open. His favorite actress being the main character got him all excited and may have been the only reason he rented it to begin with. It definitely wasn’t because she was playing a vampire in a latex bodysuit.

About halfway through the movie and many scenes later of this character being an absolute badass, Joel could feel the growing tension in his jeans. Wanting to take care of the problem to finish the movie he'd grown invested in, he pauses it and opens up a web browser and goes to his tried and true adult website. The amount of pop up ads always annoyed him, he just wanted to find something to watch and keep it moving.

Until tonight.

A banner flashes right above the search bar filled with his previous endeavors, the colors immediately catching his eyes.

“What the hell is this?” He mutters to himself as he watches the words change.

A number pops up with tiny images of girls in the corner of the banner. Feeling adventurous, he digs out his phone from his pocket and dials the number before it changes to a new ad.

He’s met with an automated message, overly seductive and giving him the rundown of what he’s getting himself into. His finger hovers over the pound button to confirm he was consenting to this, that he was willing to continue. The line beeps a few times before a new message starts to play.

”Press one if you want to meet me, the girl next door.”

The voice changes to a new girl, “press two if you want to fix my leaky pipes.”

Another different voice, “press three if you want to punish me for not turning in my college essay.”

”Press four to meet me and my best friend, Layla.”

”Hit five if you wanna romp in the hay with me, yeehaw!”

Joel snickers at the generic attempt at a southern accent.

“Call me into your office by pressing six!”

Joel could hardly contain himself at all the options he was given, and he had three more he’d yet to hear.

“Select seven to meet me, Vixen the d-“

Before the voice finished speaking, his finger pushed a button and he wasn’t sure which one he chose. Frankly, he was excited for any of them.

Your line was ringing and it wasn’t too often it did, no one usually got past Katie and Layla.

Picking up the phone, you smile when you hear the southern drawl in his words.

“Have you been a bad boy today?” You almost whisper into the phone before he responds.

“Y-yes, I have, darlin.” His tone was a little confused, unsure of what he just answered.

You grin and sit up straighter.

“Well, good thing I’m in the mood to punish you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he doesn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the number he meant to push. He wasn’t really the type of man to want to be told what to do.

From anyone.

“Darlin’ can you tell me which button I pushed by chance?”

He was trying to be as polite as he could and you were going to have some fun with this.

“You pushed seven and here I am; Vixen the Dom.” Smirking at the quiet line, you wonder for a split second if he hung up.

“I-I’m sorry…dom? I don’t know if this is really something I’m into. I mean, that’s great if you’re someone who can but that doesn’t sound like me.”

“I get it. You can’t let go of that control, scared to see a new side to yourself. I understand. If you want to hang up and redial I understand.”

Joel hesitates hanging up and he glides his tongue over his bottom lip.

“What exactly…would I be getting myself into with you, Vixen?”

What a curious man.

“You’d give me control, no backtalk, no resisting, you submit to me. There’s a safeword we can use at any point if it gets to be too much for you. At that point I’d stop and we can calm down, just talk. I never get mad at someone using a safe word.”

“A-and what’s the safe word?” The temptation in his voice shows you he’s interested.

“Hopscotch.”

His chuckle rings through your ear and makes your face warm, giggling at his reaction.

“So, you’ve stayed here this long and I can tell you’re curious. Are you going to let me take control of you, I didn’t get your name” You state, trying to guess before he answers.

“Joel. Names Joel. It’s a pleasure to spend the night with you tonight, Vixen.”

The respect he was giving already showed you how natural it came to him, he was this way in his day to day life.

“You’re going to be my good boy tonight, Joel?”

“Y-yes” he hesitantly responds.

“Yes, ma’am. Repeat it.” Goosebumps raise on your arms and the excitement shakes your core

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m going to tell you what to think, what to say, I’m going to do everything I want to you until you’re begging me to let you come.” You bite your lip and smirk, your body excited for this phone call.

“I want you to close your eyes and I want you to grab your bulge and rub it, slowly for me,” You say sternly but seductively, propping your legs up so your knees are bent, freehand resting on your abdomen.

You can hear his belt jingle and some shuffling from the other end of the phone, causing you to smirk. He doesn’t get it, it’s new for him. It was painfully obvious but you decided to take it slow for his first time.

“I didn’t say to undo your belt and ditch your pants, did I? I said rub your bulge, just rub it.”

“Y-yes ma’am.” His breath was shaky from anticipation and nerves, it was cute. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into with you.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Tell me what you want,” you tease, your fingers dancing above your panty line.

“I wish you were here right now. Tell me to lay on my back while you get on top and ride my face until I'm begging for air. I want you to use me until you come all over my face and make me clean you up before you ride my big dick. Use me, Ms. Vixen, p-please.” Joel’s whimpers make you feel that boiling heat in your stomach before you feel your panties get wet, for a half second he takes your breath away.

“Ms.Vixen? Hm, you’re learning quickly I see. Reach in your pants and take your cock out for me, get it nice and wet. I want to hear how needy you are for me.”

You hear his belt unbuckle followed by the soft sound of him spitting into his hand, married with a groan of pleasure.

“Now, you want to be my good boy tonight, right?” You ask and dip your hand inside your panties, softly teasing yourself. This was so unlike you, normally you didn’t want to touch yourself during a call. He was different.

”You aren’t going to come until I tell you, alright? Think you can handle that, baby?”

“I can handle that, yes ma’am.”

Hearing the wet sounds from him jerking his cock off makes you grin and a moan almost slips out but you catch yourself and give a small giggle.

”It’s cute the way you fuck your hand and pretend its my pussy, big grown man just aching to be put in his place. I want to watch your face when I slip your cock inside me, baby. I’ll keep a fistful of your hair so you keep your eyes on me, let me watch you go to another planet when you realize how deep you are.”

Joel moans loudly and he can’t catch his breath as he imagines how good it would feel inside you and to be used by you.

“Y-yes please, Vixen. Ride my cock and make yourself feel good, I can be whatever you want me to be.”

You circle your clit faster as your legs tremble, your moans swirling together to sound like a beautiful harmony.

“I can ride you and wrap my hand around your throat while I put my panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, wouldn’t want anyone to hear those pretty whimpers, now would we?”

“Can-can you tell me what your panties look like, darlin’? Please.” Joel stutters out and moans just thinking about it.

Biting your lip, you hold the handset closer to your mouth as you continue fingering your soaked cunt with your other hand.

“They’re lace, black of course. With a little red bow right in front of the waistband. Sick little pervert you are. Makes my pussy so wet thinking about you trying to moan my name but I can’t understand you with them in your mouth. Even when you’re begging for more, begging to come I can’t hear you.”

Joel groans louder and all you can see in your head as your eyes are squeezed shut is how handsome he sounds Just the pretty whimpers he makes has you thinking how good looking he must be, how his dick is so slippery in his fist from all the precum and spit.

“I bet you’d lose your mind if I pinned your hands down and really took all control from you, wouldn’t you baby? You’d squirm and try to touch me but you can’t, not while I’m playing with you like a toy. You’re my toy, do you hear me? Mine. Say you’re mine while you jerk off.” Your breaths get shorter as you moan softly, finally letting him hear how turned on you are.

“I’m just your playtoy, Ms.Vixen. Onl-ly yours. I p-promise. Fuck it feels so good, shit.”

The silk sheets under your skin slide under you as you squirm, giving into him a little more with each beg he cries out. This feels like heaven and you can’t get enough of him. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to keep him on the phone longer, partially because you didn’t know if he’d ever call again.

“Let go of your pretty cock. Don’t touch it and listen to me.” You demand calmly and smirk when you hear him groan in annoyance.

“Is that an attitude I hear?” you ask condescendingly.

“No ma’am, no ma’am.” he quickly retorts. Good boy.

“I’ve got two fingers inside me right now but they just don’t compare to your cock I bet. You’d probably keep me up all night and let me turn you every which way but loose, hm? Think you could keep up with me, sweetheart? How about I cuff your hands to the bed and suck your cock until you can’t take it anymore and beg to paint my face with your cum.”

You can hear a slew of profanities and Joel groans almost in pain and he whines, “God dammit that’s so hot. Please let me jerk off, baby. It’s killing me not to touch myself while I think about stuffing you full of my dick. Your perfect body on mine, what a pleasure that would be. Please, may I touch myself?”

Clamping your legs closed so you don’t come yourself, you tell him to continue and soon once more your moans mix together.

“I-I need to come, Ms.Vixen. Please let me be a goodboy and come, p-please-oh fuckkk-”

“You want to come for me, baby boy? I’m going to have to think about whether you deserve it or not, sweetheart.”

“Let me show you how good you make me feel, I need you so bad. C’mon baby-oh shittt- please?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you have this aching urge to hear him come and whimper in your ear. Hearing men be so whiny when they come was music to your ears.

“Go on then, show me the pretty sounds you make when you come, baby. Jerk that fuckin’ cock off while you think about me. Think about coming on my tits, these pretty fucking titties that would look even better with your cock between them. C’mon honey, come for me, right now. Be my favorite toy.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was groaning loudly into the phone, enough to make you cover your mouth and come with him. Couldn’t let him know how down bad he already had you.

Your ears were ringing slightly but you could still hear the shuffling from his end, probably cleaning himself up and the mess he made.

“You alright over there, big guy?” You ask, trying to calm your breathing.

“It was a lot, let’s just say I made a mess” he chuckles and sighs tiredly.

“How was that for your first time being a sub? I tried to take it slow for you.”

“That was uh, that was the best time I’ve had in a while. You really know what you’re doing, huh? I’d love to call you again, maybe your direct line next time?”

You shake your head and chuckle at him. Silly boy.

“I had a fun time tonight, Joel. Maybe if you call me again I’ll think about giving you my phone number.”

“Fair enough. Thank you, Vixen. It was a pleasure. Good night.”

“Good night, my good boy.”

The line goes silent and Joel puts his cellphone down on the couch cushion beside him, taking a deep breath as he circles back over everything he just did. Closing out of the tab and continuing his movie, he enjoyed it but Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night.

Even when he was in his bed trying to sleep, you consumed his brain and he needed more.

A lot more, but of course, only if you let him.

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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago

Text

Worth More than Gold

SUMMARY: Glen Powell has asked you, his long-time friend and secret crush to be his date to the Golden Globes. The evening is filled with glitz, glamour, and the intoxicating spark of possibilities - both on the red carpet and behind the scene. And at the end of the day Glen may not have won the Golden Globe, but he just might have won something better—you.

A/N: Glen's look at the Golden Globes did things to me and gave me so many ideas. This will probably be the last fic I do for the GG and I'm going to try to get back on track with my WIPs and Requests.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments and reblogs! I seriously smile and get all giddy like a little kid when I get a notification from you guys so please let me know what I think.

WORD COUNT: 10.8k

TAGS: In Comments.

The hotel room was a whirlwind of chaos, a perfect reflection of Glen’s pre-event energy. The plush carpet was littered with tissue paper from a last-minute gift delivery, a shoe box sat abandoned near the bed, and the sleek black tie Glen had decided to forego tonight was somehow draped over a lampshade.

Glen himself was in the middle of the room, pacing in socks and dress pants, his phone pressed to his ear. “Listen, I’m just saying, Texas football isn’t a sport—it’s a religion,” he declared, his Texas drawl warming the edges of his words. “And if the Longhorns take the game against Ohio State this week, we’re coming for that national title.”

He paused, evidently listening to the journalist on the other end of the call, then grinned as he gestured animatedly with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know you want to talk about the nomination. But did you see last weekend’s game? That last play in the second overtime?”

Across the room, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone but only half-paying attention to the screen. Watching Glen charm his way through an interview about his career or recent projects while managing to somehow steer the conversation to Texas football was nothing new.

“Cufflinks,” said Warren, the stylist ensuring Glen looked red-carpet ready. Warren stood to the side, arms crossed with the patience of someone who’d dealt with a dozen “Glen Powells” before.

“They’re in the pocket of your tux,” you called without looking up, your voice laced with playful exasperation. “Right where I told you I put them earlier.”

Glen froze mid-gesture, patting down his pants pocket first before moving to his jacket. When his fingers closed around the cufflinks, he shot you a sheepish grin.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mouthed, before turning his attention back to his call. “Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Can I call you tomorrow and we’ll finish this?” he asked the journalist.

With that, he hung up and turned to the room, raking a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “You believe this?” He said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’m on deadline and trying to get out the door for one of the biggest nights of my life. And GQ wants to talk about…wardrobe and clothes and who I’m wearing.”

Warren arched a brow, adjusting the velvet Armani jacket on its hanger. “Wardrobe is why I’m here, Glen,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you could refrain from wrinkling this masterpiece, we might actually get you to the event looking like a winner.”

You snorted, rising from the couch. “Poor you,” you teased, brushing imaginary lint off your own shirt. “Must be so hard being adored by millions while wearing designer clothes.”

Glen rolled his eyes and snorted, stepping closer as the stylist fussed with his cummerbund. “Hey, I’m counting on you to keep me sane tonight,” he said, half-serious as he began to tug at the cuffs of his shirt. “You’re my buffer.”

“Buffer?” you repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what I’m here for? Not moral support—just as a human barrier between you and Hollywood?”

“Exactly,” he deadpanned, his grin widening. “You’re overqualified for the job, though.”

You stepped forward, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt, your fingers moving with practiced ease over the slick fabric. Glen watched you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, be honest,” he said, tilting his chin slightly. “One button or two undone? What’s the vibe tonight?”

You paused, letting your gaze drop to the open collar of his shirt, catching a glimpse of the chest hair peeking out.

“One,” you said decisively, reaching up to fasten the second button. “Two buttons undone is too much chest hair. You’re going to a red carpet, not auditioning for a ‘70s cop show.”

He laughed, the rich sound filling the room as he placed his hands on his hips. “Hey, my chest hair is a crowd-pleaser,” he countered, feigning offense. “You don’t know how many compliments I’ve gotten on this chest.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a laugh. “Please never say that to me again.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Admit it. You’re just jealous you can’t pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a playful tug. “Oh, please. If I wanted to show off chest hair, I’d buy a faux-fur vest and call it a day.”

“Savage,” he said, clutching his chest as though you’d wounded him. “You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”

“Somebody has to keep your ego in check,” you replied, stepping back to inspect your work. “And you make it so easy.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, Warren said I was rocking this look,” he said, gesturing toward the stylist, who was busy folding tissue paper into one of the garment bags.

Warren didn’t even look up. “Warren also said to stop touching your shirt or you’ll wrinkle it,” he replied dryly, earning a snort from you and an exaggerated groan from Glen.

“Fine,” Glen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No more touching. But if I get to the carpet and I’m not turning heads, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you’ll turn heads,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a once-over. “If not for the suit, then definitely for whatever ridiculous sound bite you give on the carpet. You’re physically incapable of being boring, remember?”

He grinned, stepping closer so the space between you was almost nonexistent. “Is that a compliment?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly.

You tilted your head, refusing to let him win. “Don’t get used to it, Cowboy.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, leaning back with a laugh. “The nickname. I knew it was coming.”

You shrugged. “If the boots fit…”

Glen slid the custom velvet Armani tux jacket over his broad shoulders, the deep midnight-black fabric catching the light in subtle, luxurious waves. He tugged at the lapels, ensuring everything was sitting perfectly, before stepping back with an air of casual confidence.

“Well?” he asked, doing a quick spin on his heels, arms spread out theatrically. “What do you think? Too much? Not enough?”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, pretending to appraise him critically, but your expression betrayed you. Your eyes swept over him, taking in every detail—the sharp tailoring that hugged his frame perfectly, the structured cut of the jacket emphasizing his frame, and the way the silk shirt beneath hinted at the faintest trail of chest hair.

The stylist had done a remarkable job on his hair, taming the usual tousled locks into something sleek yet effortlessly natural. And the stubble—God, the stubble. He hadn’t bothered to shave completely, leaving just enough scruff to lend him a rugged edge that, if you were honest, made him look even more attractive.

The all-black ensemble was a bold choice, but it worked. The mix of textures—the smooth silk of the shirt, the luxurious velvet of the jacket, and the matte sheen of the tailored trousers—created a look that was polished yet unmistakably Glen.

“You clean up nice,” you finally said, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you took him in from head to toe. “I mean, you almost look like a proper gentleman.”

“Almost?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to check himself out.

“Well, the stubble kind of ruins the whole gentleman thing,” you quipped, biting back a laugh.

“Ruin it?” Glen turned to face you again, his voice dripping with mock offense. “The stubble is the pièce de résistance, thank you very much.” He ran a hand over his jaw, grinning when he saw the way your gaze briefly followed the movement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Sure it is. But seriously, you look good, Glen. The best I’ve seen you look in a while.”

For a moment, his grin softened, and his eyes caught yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, more sincerely this time. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer than usual, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he broke the moment with his signature charm. “Well, I have to. You’re the one who’ll have to be seen with me all night. Can’t embarrass you on your first red carpet.”

You glanced at the clock and froze. Less than an hour until you were supposed to be ready and out the door. Helping Glen finish getting ready had been fun—maybe a little too fun, you realized now, as time ticked away faster than you’d expected.

“I need to go get ready,” you said abruptly, stepping back and pointing toward the door.

Glen smirked, his hands casually adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Go on, Cinderella. Clock’s ticking.”

Without another word, you bolted for your room next door, already running through a mental checklist of what needed to happen to make yourself red carpet-ready in under an hour. Once inside, you kicked the door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Okay. Hair. Makeup. Dress. You could do this. Right?

You pulled your hair loose from the lazy ponytail it had been in all day, raking your fingers through it and trying to decide if it would look better up or down. Your eyes darted to the neckline of the dress still hanging on the back of the closet door, but you didn’t have time to figure out how to make everything match. You groaned, pressing your hands to your face.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Hello?” you called out, cautiously heading toward the door and cracking it open.

Standing there were two members of Glen’s glam squad—one holding a bag of makeup brushes and palettes, the other with a small suitcase of hair tools.

“Mr. Powell asked us to check on you,” the makeup artist said with a kind smile. “He thought you might be running behind.”

You blinked at them, momentarily speechless. “He... sent you?”

The hairstylist nodded. “He figured you might need a little help. Mind if we come in?”

You stepped aside to let them in, still processing Glen’s uncanny ability to predict you’d be panicking. “Sorry about the mess,” you admitted, glancing at the clock again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist said, already setting up her supplies on the bathroom counter. “We’ve got this. Can we see the dress? It’ll help us figure out the best look for you.”

You grabbed the garment bag from the closet and unzipped it, revealing the dress inside. You’d picked it out weeks ago, but standing there now, you suddenly second-guessed everything about it.

The hairstylist tilted his head thoughtfully, taking in the neckline and cut. “With this neckline, I’d suggest pulling your hair up—something elegant but not overdone. It’ll show off your shoulders and collarbone beautifully.”

You nodded, trusting his expertise. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for makeup,” the other stylist added, “we’ll keep it timeless—focus on your eyes, a little shimmer, and a soft lip. Nothing too bold, just enough to complement the dress and the hair.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, exhaling as you sat down.

With practiced efficiency, they got to work. The hairstylist began gathering your hair into an elegant style that framed your face while showcasing the neckline of the dress. Meanwhile, the makeup artist brushed soft gold tones onto your lids, added a touch of liner to define your eyes, and blended everything seamlessly. A quick swipe of lipstick finished the look.

You watched the transformation in the mirror, the tension slowly melting from your shoulders. By the time they stepped back to admire their handiwork, you felt like a completely different person.

“Done in thirty minutes, just like we promised,” the hairstylist said with a grin.

You stood, giving them both a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously, I wouldn’t have made it without you—or Glen, apparently.”

The makeup artist laughed. “He seemed pretty confident you’d need backup. Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about his effortless charm and how much he looked out for you. “He really is.”

After the hairstylist and makeup artist left, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, a deep breath escaping your lips. You could do this.

You reached for the dress, still hanging from its garment bag, and carefully unzipped it. The soft fabric slid through your fingers as you pulled it off the hanger, feeling a flutter of nerves as you held it up in front of you.

The dress was simple, yet elegant, hugging every curve in a way that made you second-guess your choice. But it was beautiful.

With your heart racing a little, you slipped the dress on. You paused to glance at the mirror as you tugged the fabric up your body, hoping everything would fall into place.

But it didn’t.

The zipper snagged halfway up your lower back. You tugged a little harder, but it didn’t budge. Panic settled in your chest. You didn’t want to rip the fabric or make a scene, but there was no way to finish getting ready if you couldn’t zip the dress.

Your fingers fumbled for your phone, dialing Glen’s number before you could think twice. The seconds ticked by slowly, and your nerves only heightened with every ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” you said the moment he answered. Your voice trembled slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm. “I need help. The zipper on the dress is stuck, and I can’t get it up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming right over,” Glen’s voice was calm, reassuring. You could almost hear the smile in his tone.

The call ended quickly, and before you knew it, there was a soft knock at your door. You quickly pulled the front of the dress to your chest and peeked out, your eyes meeting Glen’s as you opened the door just a crack. His presence was as commanding as ever, but now, standing there, you felt exposed.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

As he entered, you turned, giving him full view of the situation. The dress clung tightly to your body, and you were sure your back looked exposed in the tight fabric. A slight blush crept across your cheeks as your fingers instinctively tugged at the fabric.

“Relax,” Glen said, his tone warm and teasing. He moved behind you and gently grasped the zipper.

After a few tugs and a bit of effort, he managed to get it unstuck, smoothly pulling it the rest of the way up. The dress fit perfectly once it was zipped all the way.

Glen stepped back with a satisfied nod, patting your hip gently. “All good. You’re all set now.”

You took a deep breath, your nerves slightly eased but still there. With a nervous smile, you smoothed the front of your dress down, trying to calm yourself before glancing back at him.

“Do I look okay?” you asked quietly, suddenly unsure of how you appeared.

Glen gave you a slow once-over, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. Then, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Seriously. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. Glen’s words meant more than you realized, and as he gave you that smile, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Once you were fully ready, feeling the weight of the evening ahead, Glen offered you a reassuring smile as he adjusted his jacket one last time. He gave you a soft nod, signaling that it was time to go.

Together, you left the suite, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway as you walked side by side toward the elevator. Glen pressed the button, standing close enough to be a silent but steady presence. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved—like he was born to own every room he entered, even though his demeanor was always so grounded.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Glen stepped aside, letting you enter first. When you reached the lobby, the bustle of the hotel faded in comparison to the calm, quiet space Glen seemed to create around the two of you. He was the kind of person who moved with purpose, but never rushed—always thoughtful, always present.

As you made your way toward the entrance, he gave a quiet wave to a few people who greeted him, but he kept his focus on you, his hand close to your lower back as if guiding you through the crowd.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, the driver standing at attention. Glen held the door open for you with a courteous nod, his hand outstretched to assist you into the back seat.

You smiled, appreciating the little things—his attention to detail, the way he never made you feel like you were inconveniencing him. You slid into the seat, and as you did, Glen quickly followed, settling next to you with a quiet grace that was all him.

The driver closed the door, and the car began to move smoothly through the streets, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. The buzz of the evening began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and Glen turned his attention to you with a soft look.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. He glanced down at your dress, the slight gleam in his eyes making you feel all the more seen. “You’re gonna turn heads tonight, no doubt about it.”

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but his words still made your stomach flutter. “I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady.

The car glided through the streets, the hum of the engine and the soft clink of the streetlights outside giving you a sense of distance from the chaos of the night ahead. Your fingers nervously drummed on the fabric of your dress, your gaze flickering from the passing city lights to the reflection of yourself in the window.

Glen noticed the subtle tension in your posture and the way your fingers twitched, like they couldn’t quite settle. His sharp eyes, attuned to every little shift in your mood, moved over to you. He shifted closer, his hand reaching across the space between you with ease, brushing lightly over your fingers before gently taking your hand in his.

"You're going to be fine," he said, his voice low, teasing but gentle, as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, smoothing away any remnants of tension. "Just smile and wave, Penguin. You’ve got this."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, the warmth of his hand in yours bringing a little bit of ease. “Penguin?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow, feeling the tension in your shoulders release with that soft chuckle.

He grinned at you, the kind of smile that melted any nervous edge. “Yeah, Penguin. You know—Madagascar. Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.” He gave your hand a playful tug, the humor in his eyes lighting up.

You shook your head, but the tension you’d carried with you slowly began to melt. Glen had that way about him—without even trying, he made things feel easy, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His confidence was infectious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that you could pull this off.

The car hit a smooth turn, the soft hum of the tires filling the silence. You glanced at Glen, his easy grin still in place, his hand steady in yours. There was something about his presence—something grounding, comforting. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you let the last bits of tension drain away.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glen glanced down at you, his expression softening. He didn’t move, didn’t shift away—he just stayed still, letting you rest there. His thumb continued its soothing motion across the back of your hand, and he tilted his head slightly toward yours.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and steady. "You know I’ve got you."

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just the two of you, a quiet moment that reminded you why Glen was your best friend. His support, his calm energy—it was all you needed to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.

As the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the red carpet, you felt ready. Maybe it was the way Glen always knew how to bring you back to yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that he was there beside you, exactly where he always seemed to be when you needed him most.

You stole a quick glance at Glen, catching the way his gaze softened as he looked back at you, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

“Hey,” he said, the tone shifting just a little, serious but with the same undertone of care. “You’re gonna be great, okay? And if you need me to do anything, I’m right here. Just... be you.”

Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, a reassuring pressure that grounded you, and you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

The driver opened the door, and the bright lights of the red carpet began to stretch ahead of you, already swirling with flashes and faces, the hum of excitement palpable in the air. Glen leaned toward you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your neck.

“You’re gonna shine tonight,” he said quietly, his voice filled with confidence, making you believe it for the first time.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, then flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glen.”

He winked. “Anytime, Penguin. Let’s go make some memories.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, Glen’s hand still firmly in yours, ready to face whatever the night would bring—with him by your side, you felt ready for anything.

The roar of the red carpet hit you the moment you stepped out of the car. A wall of flashing lights and the constant hum of voices calling out names created a dizzying cacophony. For a second, you froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The chaos seemed endless, but Glen’s steady hand on the small of your back was the anchor you needed.

“Stay close,” he said quietly, his voice warm and reassuring, almost lost in the noise. He guided you forward with a gentle pressure, his touch never faltering.

Reporters shouted his name, cameras clicked furiously, and fans called out from behind the barriers. Glen’s demeanor shifted effortlessly, the easy confidence you admired about him coming to life under the scrutiny. But even as he navigated the chaos like a pro, his focus never strayed far from you.

When a particularly eager photographer stepped too close, Glen instinctively pulled you in, lacing your arm through his. The motion was protective yet natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “You doing okay so far?”

You nodded, the nerves still simmering but far less overwhelming with Glen beside you. “Yeah. It’s just... a lot.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers giving your arm a light squeeze. “It’s always a lot. Just keep smiling and don’t trip. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Moments later, you were ushered to the line of reporters waiting for interviews. Glen kept you close, his hand returning to your back as he led you toward the first microphone. The journalist’s attention immediately shifted to him, questions about his latest project firing off one after another.

“This is Glen Powell, looking dapper as always! Who’s your stunning guest tonight?” one reporter asked, her eyes flicking to you with interest.

Glen grinned, that signature charm lighting up his face. “This,” he said, his voice full of pride, “is the best friend who keeps me sane.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as if to emphasize his words.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as the reporter laughed. “Keeping Glen Powell on track sounds like a full-time job!”

“You have no idea,” you replied, finding your confidence in the moment. Glen chuckled beside you, his presence like a shield against the overwhelming spotlight.

The interviews continued, with Glen effortlessly steering the attention toward his projects while making sure you felt included. Whenever he wasn’t speaking, his hand either rested lightly on your back or your arm stayed looped through his. The gesture was subtle, but it kept you grounded, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

In a rare lull between interviews, Glen turned to you, his expression softening as the frenzy of the red carpet seemed to momentarily fade into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise around you.

You looked up at him, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of the evening.

“Hey,” you replied, a little breathless.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo from your face, his fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was light, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you. His eyes searched yours, the usual glint of mischief replaced with something quieter, more sincere. “You okay?”

The simple question held weight, as if he wasn’t just asking about the moment but something deeper. You nodded, your voice catching slightly as you said, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, his hand dropping back to his side, though the warmth of his touch seemed to linger. “Good. Can’t have my Penguin falling apart on me now.”

The moment hung between you, brief but charged with an unspoken connection that neither of you dared to address. Then the chaos of the red carpet surged back to life, pulling you both out of it.

“Ready to keep going?” Glen asked, his tone light again as he gestured toward the next line of reporters.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

With your arm resting gently on his, Glen led you forward, his confidence bolstering your own. And as the night unfolded, you realized that no matter how overwhelming the evening became, you’d be okay—with Glen by your side.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of elegance, bathed in soft, golden light with tables draped in white linens and adorned with extravagant floral centerpieces. Each table bore name cards in ornate calligraphy, indicating an impressive roster of directors, actors, and other Hollywood heavyweights.

Glen pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat beside you, leaning in briefly to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

You looked at Glen with a soft smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Powell.”

Within moments, the table began filling with familiar faces. To your left sat Richard Linklater himself, his unassuming charm making you feel more at ease than you’d expected. Across the table, a notable actress you’d only ever seen on-screen chatted animatedly with Glen, who was effortlessly charismatic as always.

“Glen,” Richard said with a warm smile, his Texan drawl coming through as he gestured toward you. “You didn’t introduce me to your lovely guest.”

Glen straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he turned to you. “Richard, this is the best friend who keeps me sane—and who’s also had to deal with my Dazed and Confused impression far too many times.”

You laughed lightly, shaking Richard’s hand. “It’s true. If I hear him say, ‘Alright, alright, alright,’ one more time, I might disown him.”

Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A classic never dies, though, does it?”

“I suppose not,” you conceded with a grin.

The quick banter caught the attention of the others at the table, who joined the conversation with playful remarks of their own. You held your own with ease, even managing to get a genuine laugh out of the actress across from you after a comment about the absurdity of some press junket questions.

Glen, sitting beside you, watched the exchanges with a kind of quiet pride, his gaze lingering on you whenever you spoke. At one point, he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re killing it. Remind me again—why am I not bringing you to all of these things?”

You smirked, taking a sip of water to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Because you know I’d upstage you.”

“Touché,” he said with a soft laugh, nudging your shoulder playfully.

As the dinner continued, Glen made sure to include you in every conversation, subtly steering the spotlight toward you when someone asked about his current projects. You found yourself talking about Glen’s work ethic and how he somehow managed to juggle it all without losing his sense of humor.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well,” Richard observed with a knowing smile.

“I sure hope so after I’ve put up with him for all these years,” you replied, glancing at Glen. “Someone has to keep him humble.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Glen shook his head, though the unmistakable warmth in his expression betrayed how much he loved every second of it.

When dessert was served—an artfully plated creation that was almost too pretty to eat—Glen leaned in once more, his tone playful but sincere. “See? Told you you’d be great.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad for someone who almost didn’t make it out of the hotel room.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “you belong here, you know.”

The weight of his words settled between you, a quiet affirmation that carried more meaning than the playful banter that had preceded it. You nodded, the nerves you’d been holding onto finally beginning to ease.

The awards show was nothing short of spectacular, a seamless blend of glamour, artistry, and showmanship. The host kept the audience entertained with clever quips and light-hearted jokes, while presenters took the stage to announce the winners in a variety of categories. The room buzzed with energy as names were called, winners delivered heartfelt speeches, and cameras panned over the crowd of celebrities.

Sitting beside Glen, you couldn’t help but notice how his leg bounced slightly under the table, a telltale sign of his nerves. Despite the outward appearance of ease he projected, you knew him well enough to see through it. Every now and then, his hand brushed his jawline, the slight stubble catching the light, as he glanced at the stage and back at you with an almost imperceptible smile.

You leaned closer to him during a quieter moment. “How are you holding up?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the applause filling the room.

“Better with you here,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. The weight of his words sent a gentle warmth through you, grounding you as much as it did him.

As the night progressed, Glen laughed at the host’s jokes and applauded the winners, though you could feel his anticipation building as his category grew closer.

The glitz and chatter around you seemed to blur as the presenter finally took the stage to announce the nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy.

You felt Glen shift in his seat, his back straightening as his name was called alongside the other nominees. His hand brushed his thigh, and you noticed him take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. Instinctively, you leaned in just enough so your shoulder lightly pressed against his, a silent reminder that you were right there with him.

The presenter opened the envelope, the seconds stretching impossibly long. “And the award goes to... Sebastian Stan!”

The room erupted into applause as Sebastian rose from his seat, making his way to the stage. You clapped along with everyone else, but the knot of disappointment in your chest was impossible to ignore. Letting out a small, defeated breath, you glanced over at Glen.

He was smiling politely, clapping for Sebastian, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The kind of flicker only someone who truly knew him could catch. Others at the table offered their own words of encouragement, but Glen only nodded politely, his attention still half-focused on the stage.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your voice low and meant just for him. “You’re still the most talented guy in the room.”

You reached over, resting your hand gently on his knee under the table, offering him the kind of comfort words alone couldn’t provide. For a moment, his gaze dropped to your hand, then back to your face. A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his hand briefly covered yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning.

Throughout the rest of the show, Glen leaned into your presence, subtly relying on you to keep him grounded. You noticed the way his body gradually relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night continued.

When another winner gave a particularly heartfelt speech, Glen turned to you with a quiet chuckle. “At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on the way to the stage.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing out a more genuine smile from him. “See? There’s always a silver lining.”

By the time the final award was announced and the audience began filtering out of the theater, Glen seemed more at ease.

As the two of you stood to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Thanks for keeping me sane tonight,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the unspoken connection between you deepen as the evening came to a close.

The after-party was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, extravagant, and a little overwhelming. The main Golden Globes after-party felt less like a celebration and more like a carefully orchestrated networking event. The room was packed with A-list celebrities, producers, directors, and journalists, each armed with a drink in one hand and a carefully curated smile.

Music thumped in the background, but it barely registered over the hum of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Glen stayed by your side at first, introducing you to a few people here and there. You exchanged pleasantries with actors whose faces you recognized from the big screen and smiled politely at directors whose names you tried not to forget.

But before long, Glen was pulled away, whisked from one conversation to the next like the star of the evening. You watched as he posed for pictures, his easy charm making every interaction look effortless. He’d glance back at you occasionally, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wink, but you could tell even he was beginning to feel the strain of the crowd.

You nursed a drink at the edge of the room, trying to stay out of the way while still keeping Glen in your sights. It was easy to lose track of time amidst the chaos, but the constant flow of strangers and small talk started to take its toll. The energy in the room felt electric and draining all at once, and you found yourself wishing for a quieter corner to catch your breath.

After what felt like hours, Glen appeared at your side, his hand lightly brushing your arm to get your attention.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. “This is… a lot, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a little overwhelming. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve smiled so much tonight my face might be stuck this way,” he joked, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. He glanced around the room, then back at you. “What do you say we head to my party? I think I’ve shaken enough hands and posed for enough pictures to last a lifetime.”

The suggestion was like a lifeline, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Glen’s shoulders relaxed visibly at your answer, and he gave you a small, grateful smile. He offered you his arm, the gesture both protective and grounding as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Despite the noise and flashing cameras still lingering near the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The car ride to the rooftop bar was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the Golden Globes after-party. Glen leaned back against the seat, his shirt now unbuttoned to a second button and the faintest hint of exhaustion in his expression.

You glanced at him, smiling softly. “You know, most people would just go to bed after a night like this. Not go to another party.”

Glen chuckled, his head turning toward you. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

When the car pulled up to the rooftop bar, Glen stepped out first, turning back to offer you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go see everyone.”

The rooftop bar was stunning, its perimeter lined with fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow. The city skyline sparkled in the distance, and the faint hum of music drifted through the air. Glen had rented the entire space, and as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cheerful buzz of conversation.

His parents were the first to spot you, their faces lighting up as they hurried over to greet Glen with warm hugs and congratulations.

His mom pulled you into an embrace as well, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You look stunning tonight, sweetheart. And thank you for taking care of our boy out there.”

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the ease that came with being around Glen’s family.

You scanned the room and spotted Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, waving excitedly from across the bar. She was all smiles as she made her way over, throwing her arms around you in a hug.

“It’s been forever!” she exclaimed, pulling back to give you a once-over. “You look amazing! And that dress—ugh, you’re killing me.”

“You’re one to talk,” you teased, taking in her own dress. “You look incredible.”

Glen was quickly pulled into conversations with friends and other guests, his charm and warmth on full display as he moved through the room. You stayed behind with Leslie, the two of you settling into a quieter corner of the bar.

“So,” you said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me everything about the engagement. I need details.”

Leslie’s face lit up, and she launched into a detailed recounting of the proposal—how her fiancé had asked, the secret planning, how he included her friends and family in on the surprise. She showed you the ring, a design that perfectly suited her, and the two of you gushed over wedding plans.

“I’m thinking late spring,” Leslie said, twirling her glass of wine between her fingers. “Something outdoors, simple but elegant. Glen keeps trying to offer to pay for everything, but I want to keep it low-key.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, smiling. “And knowing Glen, he’ll find a way to contribute whether you want him to or not.”

Leslie laughed, nodding. “Oh, I know. He’s the best, though. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Your gaze drifted across the room to where Glen was laughing with a small group of friends, his easy smile making your own lips curve upward. His hand was resting casually in the pocket of his suit pants.

“You’ve got that look again,” Leslie said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You blinked, snapping your gaze back to her. “What look?”

She grinned knowingly and nudged your arm with her elbow. “The ‘I’m totally into Glen but I’ll never admit it’ look.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? That’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Sure I am.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to brush off her teasing. “He’s my best friend, Les. That’s-” But before you could finish your sentence, Glen glanced over at the two of you. His eyes found yours across the room, and when he smiled—soft, warm, and undeniably genuine—you felt your words falter.

You didn’t even realize you had stopped speaking until Leslie let out a low chuckle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely containing her laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

Realizing what just happened, you tore your gaze away from Glen, your face burning.

“I do not,” you muttered, but the weak protest only made Leslie laugh harder.

She shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Honestly, I’ve suspected this for years, but that little moment right there? Total confirmation.”

“Okay, enough,” you said, waving your hands as if to physically push the conversation away. “Let’s focus less on your brother and my nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your wedding.”

Leslie just smirked, clearly not buying your denial. “Fine, but for the record? He’s totally into you too.”

You gave Leslie a confused look, followed by a doubtful laugh. “Yeah, right?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your self-doubt. “Why do you think he wouldn’t be into you?” she asked, crossing her arms as if she were gearing up to debate.

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “I mean…look at him,” you said, gesturing vaguely in Glen’s direction. “He could have literally anyone he wants. Models, actresses, anyone. And I’m just…” You trailed off, shrugging.

Leslie tilted her head, studying you with a knowing smile. “Just what?” she pressed.

“Just me,” you finished weakly, feeling a little silly for saying it out loud.

Leslie let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all—” She paused, leaning in slightly for emphasis. “You’re the one he asked to be his date tonight. Not a model, not an actress, you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the truth of her words. “That’s just because we’re friends,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Friends,” Leslie repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. Because friends definitely look at each other the way he looks at you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up again. “He does not look at me any type of way,” you insisted, but Leslie wasn’t buying it.

She smirked, nodding toward Glen, who was now making his way across the room in your direction.

“Sure he doesn’t,” she said, her voice teasing. “But just in case you’re still in denial, why don’t you pay attention when he gets over here? You’ll see what I mean.”

Before you could respond, Glen reached the two of you, his presence immediately drawing your attention.

“Hey,” he said, flashing that easy smile of his. “Am I interrupting something, or can I steal her for a bit?”

Leslie’s grin widened as she gave you a pointed look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

You shot her a subtle glare, but Leslie just winked at you before turning to join the rest of the group. As Glen’s attention shifted back to you, your heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always seemed to do when he was around.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze flicking over your face as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just catching up with Leslie.”

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “She’s been excited to see you. I think she’s secretly more interested in hanging out with you than me tonight.”

You laughed, the sound helping to ease the tension swirling in your chest. “Well, to be fair, I am pretty great,” you teased, falling back into your usual banter with him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Glen said, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered a little too long, something that made your breath catch just slightly.

The atmosphere shifted subtly as the music transitioned to something slower, a beat just mellow enough to set a softer, almost romantic mood. The chatter in the room seemed to quiet slightly, replaced by the rhythmic sway of the melody. Glen glanced toward the small dance floor, where a few of his friends were starting to pair off, and then turned back to you.

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand toward you, his smile warm and inviting.

You shook your head immediately, taking a small step back. “You know I don’t dance,” you reminded him, your voice firm but playful.

His grin only widened, clearly undeterred. “And you know I don’t take no for an answer,” he teased, stepping closer and gently taking your hand before you could protest further.

“Glen,” you said, a hint of exasperation in your tone, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, glancing back at you. ��I’ll lead. All you have to do is follow.”

You sighed in resignation, realizing there was no escaping this. When you reached the dance floor, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm securely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’ve done this before,” he said lightly as he started to guide you to the rhythm of the music.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, though you still felt slightly self-conscious. “But I’m warning you—I’m not great at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he assured you, his voice low and steady, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Leslie standing by the bar. She was watching you with an unmistakable smirk, her arms crossed in triumph. When your eyes met hers, she gave you a knowing look, the kind that said, See? Told you so.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head, trying to silently tell her to knock it off. Glen noticed the exchange, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced over at Leslie and then back down at you.

“What am I missing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your cheeks were already starting to warm.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, his tone teasing now. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Leslie’s just…being Leslie,” you said vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

But Glen wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as realization started to dawn on him.

“Wait a minute…” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Is she messing with you about something?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Not really?” he repeated, clearly unconvinced. His eyes flicked back toward Leslie, who was now openly grinning at the two of you. “Oh, she’s definitely messing with you about something,” he said with a laugh.

You groaned, your head dropping slightly as you muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”

Glen chuckled, his hand on your waist giving a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he said, his tone playful but his smile soft.

For a moment, you forgot about Leslie entirely, your focus shifting back to Glen as you moved together in time with the music. His gaze lingered on you, his expression unexpectedly tender, and you felt your heart skip in a way that made you wonder if Leslie might actually have a point after all.

As the slower song faded out, you felt a moment of relief. But then the next song started, and your heart sank a little as the unmistakable notes of a love ballad filled the air. The kind that spoke of longing and intimacy, the kind that made you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were still in Glen’s arms.

You glanced up at him, your lips parting to excuse yourself, but before you could step away, his hand on your back shifted, a gentle but deliberate pressure that kept you in place.

“Stay,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Glen, I—” you started, already shaking your head. There was no way you could dance to a love song with your best friend. It felt too…loaded.

“Just one more,” he murmured, and when your eyes met his, whatever protest you had ready fell away. There was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a friendly look. It was softer, deeper, and for a moment, it left you breathless.

You nodded, barely, and he smiled—just a small, private curve of his lips that made your stomach flip.

He pulled you just a little closer this time, close enough that your chest brushed against his. The hold on your back shifted, his hand sliding just slightly lower, resting at the curve where your back met your waist. It wasn’t inappropriate—just enough to feel a little less like friendship and a little more like something else.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. His warmth was comforting, grounding, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the song and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You felt him tilt his head, the faintest brush of his cheek against the top of yours. It was such a small gesture, but it sent your heart into a quiet frenzy, a rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the music.

Neither of you said a word as you moved together, swaying gently to the melody. The first verse passed, then the chorus, and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be here, like the rest of the world had melted away.

The song came to an end, the final notes fading into a hum of conversation and clinking glasses around you. Glen didn’t move right away, and for a moment, neither did you. You stayed in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hand still pressed against your back, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

But then someone called his name from across the room, breaking the fragile bubble that had surrounded you both. Glen’s arm slipped away, though his hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if reluctant to leave.

You nodded, offering a small smile, and watched as he crossed the room to greet a new arrival. The absence of his touch left you feeling untethered, a sudden awareness of just how much you’d let yourself melt into him during that dance.

Needing a moment to collect yourself—and maybe something stronger than a moment of quiet—you made your way to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and took a steadying sip, trying to push the last few minutes out of your mind.

Of course, Leslie found you before you even made it halfway through your drink.

“So,” she started, leaning casually against the bar with an unmistakable smirk. “That was…something.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the blush already creeping up your neck. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she asked innocently, though her grin was anything but. “I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother look at someone like that. Or hold someone like that. Or—”

“Leslie,” you warned, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at composure.

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, for someone who insists she doesn’t dance, you looked awfully comfortable out there dancing with my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you replied, taking another sip of your wine in a futile attempt to drown your nerves.

“Doesn’t it?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like something more.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged, still grinning.

“Relax,” she said, nudging your arm playfully. “I’m not about to make a big announcement or anything. But if you don’t see it yet…” She trailed off, giving you a knowing look before gesturing subtly toward Glen, who was still across the room, laughing with a small group of friends.

You followed her gaze despite yourself, and your heart gave a traitorous little lurch at the sight of him. His smile was easy and charming, but every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the bar, as if checking to see if you were still there.

“See what I mean?” Leslie said softly, pulling your attention back to her.

You shook your head, trying to play it off. “You’re reading into things.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her tone light but her expression serious. “Because I’ve known Glen my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. So, maybe it’s time you stop convincing yourself it’s all in your head.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself speechless, staring down into your glass of wine as if it held the answers you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Leslie let the silence linger for a moment before giving your arm another playful nudge. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, she pushed off the bar and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts—and the undeniable truth you were no longer sure you could ignore.

You stepped away from the bar, glass of wine in hand, and gravitated toward a quieter corner of the rooftop. The laughter and conversation from the party grew softer with every step, the music fading into a pleasant hum in the background. A gentle breeze brushed against your skin as you approached the railing, the Los Angeles skyline glittering like a sea of stars before you.

You leaned against the cool metal and took a slow sip of your wine, your thoughts drifting back to Leslie’s words. Was she onto something? No, she couldn’t be. Glen was your best friend, the one constant in your life through every twist and turn. You would know if he felt something for you… right?

But then again…

You sighed and rested your elbow on the railing, pressing your glass lightly to your lips. Leslie had known Glen her entire life. If anyone could read him, it was her. And the way she spoke—like she’d been holding onto this knowledge for a while—left you with an uncomfortable sense of doubt.

Could she be right? Could you really have missed something that big?

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over, expecting another party guest, but instead, you found Glen standing beside you. The velvet tuxedo jacket was now off, and his hair was a little mussed from probably running his hand through it one too many times, but his smile was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning casually against the railing next to you. “You okay?”

You managed a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calm and steady, before arching a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Leslie pestering you at the bar, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Glen said, clearly not buying it. “Because Leslie may or may not have told me to come find you.”

Your heart gave a jolt, and you turned to look at him. “She what?”

“She didn’t say why,” Glen added quickly, holding up a hand as if to reassure you. “But… she said…enough.”

“Enough?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his smile fading into something softer, something more sincere. “Enough to make me realize I’ve been putting this off for too long.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Glen stepped closer. His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to gauge your reaction before saying anything else.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice low. “For coming with me tonight. For being here for me—not just tonight, but always.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“And I need you to know,” he continued, taking another step closer, “how much you mean to me.”

The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes searched yours, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You felt it then—that shift Leslie had hinted at, the one you’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge. This wasn’t just your best friend standing in front of you. This was Glen, the man who had been at your side for years, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

He took a deep breath and leaned in slightly, pausing when your noses were almost touching. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you met his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

Glen’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he raised a hand to your face. His palm was warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You closed your eyes just as his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and placed a hand lightly against his chest, he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

The world around you faded—the music, the laughter, the skyline. All that mattered was the way Glen’s lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, processing what had just happened. Glen’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft, absentminded circles against your skin. Your heart raced, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the surreal, breathtaking reality of the moment.

Finally, Glen broke the silence, his lips curving into that familiar, playful grin that always managed to put you at ease. “So…” he began, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity from before. “Does this mean you’ll let me take you to next year’s Globes too?”

The laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, breaking the tension in the most perfect way. You shook your head, resting your forehead against his chest as a smile spread across your lips. “We’ll see if you behave, Cowboy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. “Behave? I’m a perfect gentleman,” he said, his voice tinged with mock indignation.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arching a brow. “Oh, really? Perfect gentlemen don’t usually kiss their best friends on rooftops in the middle of a party.”

His grin widened as he shrugged, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. “Maybe I got tired of being just your best friend.”

Your breath caught again at the sincerity in his tone, the way his teasing words carried so much truth. Glen had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment, but this felt different. This felt real.

You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but instead of pushing, Glen just smiled and leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. And with that, he stepped back slightly, though his hand still lingered on your waist, as if to let you know that even with the space between you, he was still there, still yours.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. The smile that still lingered on his lips wasn’t one of teasing; it was genuine, like he was relieved to have crossed that line with you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice quieter than usual. “This is... a lot to take in, you know?”

Glen nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress, a small gesture that seemed to ground you.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I get it.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he added, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a brief moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself truly hear what he was saying. The uncertainty that had clouded your mind earlier began to dissipate, replaced by something far more powerful—trust.

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Glen,” you admitted, looking up at him again, your voice low but clear. “We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb now tracing along your jawline as he spoke, his voice steady. “We won’t lose it,” he promised, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t let that happen. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the sincerity in his words making your heart swell. “Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling like a vow in the quiet space between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if the world had paused just for you two. It was peaceful, despite everything—the chaos of the party, the swirling emotions inside you. Glen was here, right in front of you, and he was offering you something more. Something you hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny.

Then, in the silence that followed, he grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “So, does this mean you’ll let me take you on a date?”

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled with excitement. He was waiting, his expression open and genuine, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like anything was uncertain anymore. The nerves, the doubts—they melted away in the warmth of his gaze.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice filled with the quiet confidence that had come from years of friendship and, somehow, this unexpected moment. "I'd like that."

His smile deepened, and for a second, it was as if time stood still. He reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it shy. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. You both stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, as if savoring the moment before the world could rush back in.

"Come on," Glen said, pulling you gently by the hand, “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

As he led you back toward the party, his fingers intertwined with yours, and the moment felt complete. You’d crossed the line, yes, but it was the best kind of line to cross—one that made you excited for whatever came next.

You shared one last look, a silent promise between you two, before re-entering the party, side by side, ready for whatever the night—and your future—held.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you

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kikidoul · 2 days ago

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── BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა박성훈 x fem! reader content established relationship non-idol au older brother's best friend trope reader is jay's younger sister ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content unprotected sex (stay safe!) petnames used kissing pussy eating fingering begging squirting overstimulation sunghoon being a tease and wear glasses (important trust) jay cockblocking (not sorry). . .!? 1111— mlist. part two

note. another reupload from yours truly. currently writing part two so it will be posted soon, hopefully...

You have met your older brother’s friends a couple of times, having known them since you were young. They were a loud and chaotic group, if one were to ask for your opinion on them. But among them, there was someone who piqued your interest. Sunghoon isn't as talkative as the others. He mostly keeps to himself but you have seen him cracking jokes or making fun of your brother; Jay, resulting in the two bickering back and forth. It’s a common sight to hear them argue about the smallest things, much to everyone’s amusement.

You knew it was wrong to have feelings for your brother’s friend but you couldn’t help it. Not when Sunghoon was nothing but kind and caring towards you. His features were simply another plus point and everything about him simply makes you swoon. You had to walk around your brother, hiding your relationship with Sunghoon from him. You know how overprotective Jay can be when it comes to you. The last thing you want is to end Sunghoon and Jay’s friendship. You knew how the two are practically glued to the hips, always coming as a pair.

“Ngh, Hoonie, fuck, hah, m-more,” you whined, your back arching off the bed.

Your legs were slung over your boyfriend’s broad shoulders. Your left hand was covering your mouth; a feeble attempt of muffling your moans while the other gripped onto his abyssal-like hair. You couldn’t help but bucked your hips forward, craving more. It was a miracle you had survived this long before meeting Sunghoon and you came to learn that he was amazing with his mouth and fingers.

Your boyfriend hums, moving his long, thick fingers in a scissor-like movement, opening and preparing you for what’s to come. Your eyes rolled up at a harsh suck of your clit, his tongue delving deeper. In the span of what felt like years when it was actually an hour, he had managed to make you cum a total of two times. The first was done by his fingers while the second was done by his tongue. Currently, he was pushing you over your comfort zone, hoping you could cum a third time.

As they always say, third times the charm, right?

You squirmed about on the drenched sheets, gripping onto the pillow for dear life. Breathy moans flowed from your lips, like water falling from a water tap.

“Fuck!”

You gasped, thighs buckling as Sunghoon swirls the overly stimulated bud with his tongue. You felt it, the fire in your abdomen and how heat was spreading under your skin. Throwing all caution out of the window with the only thing in your mind was chasing your impending climax, you frantically jerked your hips forward. Your boyfriend got the hint, allowing you to fuck his tongue and it didn’t took you long to reach your climax.

As compared to the orgasms you had before, this was more powerful and it took a deep toll on your body. You weren’t sure what happened as you laid on the bed, loosening your grip on Sunghoon’s hair, eyes closing to take a much-needed breather.

“Woah, that was hot. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You opened your eyes, only to pause at the lewd scene before you. The frames of his glasses were coated in a thin layer of your juices. Some were dripping as it trailed down the frames, landing on the sheets. Your breath caught in your throat as Sunghoon licked his lips, his chin was glistening underneath the ceiling light. You wanted to apologize but he waved you off, knowing what you wanted to say.

“You don’t have to apologize, princess,” he grins, moving closer until your noses graze against one another. “But I believe I should get a reward for making you squirt for the first time, right?”

You light-heartedly rolled your eyes, choosing not to reply and kissed him instead. Sunghoon grinned into the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue, allowing you to taste yourself. He positioned himself in between your legs, one hand trailing down to fondle with your hardened peaks. You moaned into his mouth, the sound doing wonders to his body and mind. Wanting to hear more, Sunghoon broke the kiss. He aligned his cock to your needy, neglected and sensitive dripping entrance.

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to use lube,” he breathed out, unable to tear his eyes away from the erotic sight of watching his cock disappearing inch by inch, getting swallowed by your greedy clit.

“Oh god.. Hoonie,” you whined, throwing your head back, your gummy and velvety walls sucking him in, making him groan at the feeling.

By the time he was buried deep in you, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. Sunghoon started thrusting, hips snapping against yours as he massaged your inner thighs—wanting you to relax and enjoy yourself. The bed moved along with your movements, the bedframe hitting the wall at equal intervals. At this rate, you’ve long forgotten that your brother had arrived home after a hectic day of back-to-back classes. Which was why none of you were prepared for the unexpected moment of Jay opening the door without knocking.

“Hey sis, could you—Wait, what the fuck!?” He asks, raising his head from his phone, only for him to shriek at the top of his lungs.

Both of you whirled your heads to his direction and your reactions were immediate. Sunghoon scrambled to move away from you while you pulled the sheets up, covering your body from your brother’s poor eyes. Jay had shielded his eyes with one hand, back facing the both of you.

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like,” your boyfriend chirps in and you mentally face-palmed.

“Not what it looks like? Pray tell me, then what does it look like because I can’t believe I saw my best friend fucking my sister. Oh my God, please God, help me,” Jay exclaimed.

The two of you shared a look and you shrugged your shoulders, having gotten used to your brother’s dramatic antics.

“Come down to the living room and we’re going to talk about this. And you better not be fucking or I will kill you with my bare hands, is that understood?” Jay directed the threat to his best friend, who nervously gulped.

“Yes, sir.”

When Jay left after closing the door along with him muttering about how he needs to bleach his eyes, you ran a hand through your hair. “Well, I guess we’re going to die under the hands of my brother.”

“...Please don’t say that. I’m actually scared of my life now.”

#── writings #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x you #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fanfic #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fanfic #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enha smut #sunghoon x reader

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sylvia-und-sybille · 3 days ago

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💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it’ll have when it’s done? 2.3K+ now, and whatever happens, that happens.

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP? 3 days.

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone? AU location (starts as) and aged-up characters.

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV? OTP only. Even as 3rd person's point of view there's little of point of view at all (as thoughts or just about a person alone.)

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP? OTP talk & do things together.

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar? It can happen in 0.001% of cases (if, then fanfictions only.)

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it’s done? Posted, printed, published, etc? Posted only.

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Romance, as it's about a lot of love (as in every fanfiction about them.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Humour. Unfortunately, no funny moments.

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing? So (for years.) If exaggerate, the answer is, so what? So to be it. | Whenever possible, I try to find other way to glue parts of looong sentences and not to break them into shorter ones. The writer of the original version had looong sentences as well and paragraphs can seem almost endless in many cases.

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP? EVERY SINGLE of my fanfictions & original stories has happy end (unless past when I wanted to write about harm done to or defeat of a bad or unpleasant character.) In the case of latest WIP fanfiction: deep sadness of both, character 2: wish to cry before relief, no harm.

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it? They would look forward to a plot twist (mostly character 2, as character 1 had an idea.)

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be? Rainbow, as they deserve.

🍩 [Donut] What’s the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What’s the best thing? No food or drinks are mentioned (yet?)

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP? No, and I almost don't know people in real life. Yes, I'm so called "live under a rock."

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence. At first, the two are icebergs, but very, very soon, nothing is under water . . . (They talk about character 1 as having an iceberg, so . . .) . . . positive plot twist, philosophical discussion, something else unexpected (positive again.) (Note: something else is before plot twist, though. | I've had to search for answers to at least understand how such description can be possible.)

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for? What does it mean even? If as not accepted, one of important parts is gender non-conformity. Those who are against girls & women who don't look feminine can be highly displeased. BUT what can I say, the version the fanfiction is based on has scenes with character 2 in man's shirt. So yes, haters can hate as long as they want.

UPDATE a day after: I've had an idea (chapter 2, not one-shot as it was planned initially) which is the reason to "get cancelled on Twitter," but I don't care. The idea supposed to be a part of some future fanfiction (no matter which, but based on the modern version of the story,) but the wish to add this to the current one was too strong, so it will be here :D The first chapter discussed above has two plot twists, but this idea is an enormous plot twist. Second plot twist & new one will result in (in my opinion, at least) it's too good to be true | unrealistic, but I don't care. I want this to exist, so it will.

Random WIP Ask Game

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done?

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP?

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone?

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it's done? Posted, printed, published, etc?

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing?

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP?

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it?

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

🍩 [Donut] What's the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What's the best thing?

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP?

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence.

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for?

#I'll try to do this for every fanfiction or chapter started (in the future) & related to this blog #fanfictions #WIP #Sylvia und Sybille #SySy #any chance for anything related to THEM in typed form (for me to think and to type) is very welcome #Fiction is harder than non fiction (unless it's detailed literary criticism.)#To express my opinion & to read between lines (most of the time) is yes but How is it written? (quality) then no.#Give me parameters to look for. Yes a humanities person who thinks about literature from scientific point of view.

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wannabepoeticischiya · 2 days ago

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all the colors of the sun

ao3: all the colors of the sun pairing: karasu tabito x f! reader genre: romance wc: 17.6k status: one shot

You don't need to wish for love or for someone to love you. Because… sometimes, you just never realize that you've had them all along.

And if he were to put it into words, he'd tell her: “And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”

Because he already does.

“No way in hell did Karasu get a girlfriend before me!” Otoya protests, voice laced with all the stinging sensations of envy as he, Isagi, and Yukimiya huddled together like the Avengers if the superhero group was the type to peek at people from around a corner.

The object of their interest? None other than the assassin, Karasu Tabito—talking animatedly to a girl all the while looking like he just won the World Cup, saved the universe, and had gotten married all in the same day. His smile was very annoyingly wide, and his laughter sounded so happy that it scratched the ears of his very envious teammates.

"Maybe he’s just being nice to a fan," Yukimiya offered, though the model himself couldn’t stop the bitterness from tagging along with his words. He swears he could almost taste it.

“Karasu?” Otoya questions incredulously.

“Nice?” Isagi follows.

“Ha! The only way Karasu and nice belong in the same sentence is if the word isn’t is in between,” Chigiri remarks, arms crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall, silently judging his teammates—who were very keenly drawing nearer and nearer to the borders of looking like electric posts if they could pull the We Bare bears pose—from their spot in the corner.

“Why’re you guys talking about him anyway?” Chigiri asks, sipping casually on his energy drink.

“Look at him, Chigirin!” Bachira’s head popped up from behind the trio like a Whac-A-Mole, pointing dramatically at the crow in the crowd. “Karasu’s talking to a girl!”

Chigiri chokes mid-sip, spilling his drink all over his hands and on the floor from absolute mortification. “He’s what?!”

"Whatcha guys yellin' for? Yer gonna get us in trouble if ya don't keep it down—"

“Hiori! Look at your childhood friend!” Isagi whispers in alarm, as if the scene he’s been watching unfold before his eyes for the last five minutes is nothing but fever-induced hallucinations.

"He ain't my childhood friend,” Hiori mutters, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance that he had to clear this up, again. “If anythin’ he’s—”

Tired of Hiori’s stalling, Isagi shoved the Ice Man’s face in the direction of their crime-committing teammate.

“[Name]-san?” Hiori mumbles in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if the scene before him was something out of this world. Well, he should’ve expected this considering… well, considering them.

“You know her, Hiorin?” Bachira pokes his head from Yukimiya's side, curiosity all over his honey-colored eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathes, still struggling to process the image, “She’s…” his words faded to a dull echo. It’s only been a few months since he last saw them together. There wasn’t anything unusual, same old Karasu, same old [Name], still laughing and talking like they were the only two people in the world. They’ve always looked like that. Always looked at each other like that. So how come seeing them now… how did they look so different? Almost as if they were…

“In love.” He whispers.

“What?!” The peepers—minus Yukimiya—screamed in unison, garnering a few odd stares from the people walking by.

“What I meant,” Hiori clears his throat, “is that she’s Karasu-kun’s childhood friend.” Hiori smiles, “She’s also ridiculously strong.”

“Can’t be stronger than Karasu, right?” Otoya asks, his eyes giving way to the bubbles of whatever evil plan it was that he was concocting in his head.

“Oh, I ain’t sure.” Hiori shrugs, “But from all the fights they had that I can remember, she never lost a single one."

Hiori caught sight of the smirk on Otoya’s face growing wider, and if he were to push it, Hiori was certain that Otoya would was going to tear his jaw open from it.

Amused by the ninja’s shamelessness, Hiori imparts a very much needed word of wisdom.

"If she and Karasu-kun were to fight for real right now, she would still win.” He laughs, not quite liking the sudden image of Karasu’s bruised face from long ago showing up in his head, “and that's with Karasu-kun burnin' all the candles at every end."

Otoya’s suggestive expression wilted like a rose at the new information, stepping behind Yukimiya all of a sudden.

Wanting to see how far he could go, Hiori hummed and pretended to think deeper, “I think she does kickboxing—or was it karate? Well, doesn’t matter. Yer screwed either way, Otoya-kun.” Hiori pats Otoya’s shoulder as he walks past the group of terrified teenagers, “Best not to try!” He calls, waving his hand in farewell.

As he walks away, snickering softly to himself as he noted the look from his teammate’s faces. He remembers the day those two met, a moment in time so engraved in his head it felt kind of strange to see how much had changed.

Or maybe… just maybe, nothing’s changed at all.

---

"Didja lose your partner?"

A younger [Name] stood in front of a boy crouched by the bike rack near the curve, popsicle in hand as the other scratched the back of her neck—craning her head to see if anyone was around the corner.

[Name] tried to catch his eye, shamelessly offering the half-eaten treat to him when he ignored her question.

Met by his silence, she steps closer to him, setting her bag next to his yellow hat as she crouches down to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Oi," she calls again, waving a sticky hand in front of his face. "Can ya hear me?"

The boy hides his face further in the comforts of his arms, swatting away her hand without a word.

[Name] furrowed her brows at his dismissal, pouting at him even if he couldn’t see.

What’s this kid’s deal? She thought.

Just as she was about to get back up and walk away, she heard him—albeit very soft that could be mistaken for the wind—whimper.

He wasn’t upset at her or anything, but he just didn’t know what else to do at the moment, so he couldn’t help but try to push her away. This was the last thing he wanted… for someone to see just how weak he was. He didn’t get partnered up with the girl he wanted, so what? It wasn’t like it was the end of the world. He thought it was the stupidest reason in the world. It shouldn’t be something to be so upset over.

But he was.

To him… getting partnered up with Marisa really, really mattered.

Pained by the sudden reminder, he felt the back of his eyes tingle, silver brimming his downcast gaze.

"H-Hey, c'mon now, don't cry..." [Name] panics, dropping down to eye level with him once more at sight of the tears streaming down his very sad face. Mindlessly, she thrusts the melting, half-eaten popsicle to him like an offering, like the spirit of summer could magically solve all his problems.

She pats his back awkwardly, "I lost my partner, too." She blurted, her voice colored in cheer and laughter, as though the matter of losing a buddy on a school field trip was a funny story they can share for life.

The reason for Karasu's sadness was a very different matter altogether, still, he appreciated his classmate's efforts. Her kind, and frantic energy pulling at the corners of his lips even by the smallest centimeter.

"Hio-kun prolly made it back to the teacher, maybe your partner is there!" She smiles at him, like there was no surer thing in the whole wide world aside from her optimism. She extended a hand for him to take. "Let's go back, Nakimushi-san!"

"I'm not a crybaby!" He snaps, finally looking—more like glaring—at her through watery eyes, "And the name's Karasu. Karasu Tabito!" (believe it!)

"Okay, Tabito-chan!" She beams, one so bright it made him squint.

Before he could reprimand her for her actions, she plopped the matching yellow hat back onto his head, the brim settling crookedly as her sticky fingers lingered for a second too long. She adjusted the straps of her red backpack and looked to him in anticipation.

"Don't go calling me by my first name like we're close or somethin’!" He yells, flustered at the thought of a girl being all chummy with him.

"Sure thing, Tabito-chan!" She replies, completely ignoring his protests as she drags him by his hand and led him back to rest of the group.

---

That was how they became friends.

According to the testimony of Hiori Yo—who was originally [Name]’s assigned partner—she was seen ditching him half-way when caught sight of an ice cream store, and somewhere along the way got wired with a crying kid on the sidewalk.

From that day onward, they just sort of… stuck together

---

At eight years old, [Name] discovered Karasu’s secret, as much as a secret it could be but… what she unveiled was his crush on Marisa—the resident cutest kid in class, according to him.

It wasn’t intentional. [Name] blamed it on Karasu. It was completely by accident.

She went to his house one Saturday morning to return the ball he had left by mistake last night when he came over her house to play.

His older sister, Tsubame-nee-chan, who looked just like Tabito but with longer hair and a kinder attitude, had told [Name] that her best friend was upstairs. She was so used to having the girl come over that it started to become weird when there wasn’t any laughter and banter in the house.

“Tabito’s upstairs,” Tsubame waves from the living room, laughing at something her friends said. “Ya can just grab him yerself!”

Muttering a faint, ‘Pardon the intrusion’, taking off her slippers, and a ‘Thanks, Tsubame-nee-chan!’, [Name] climbed the steps, no limit to her usual buzzing energy.

But the second her foot closed the last step of the stairs, she halted.

[Name] caught sight of Karasu at the far end of the corridor, standing in front of the full-length mirror he probably used more than his sister—or anyone in his house for that matter. The boy hadn’t taken note of her presence just yet, seemingly immersed at whatever it was that he was doing that merited his undivided attention and spatial awareness.

She tilted her head in curiosity and breathed to call out to him.

And with little to no warning at all, his voice broke through like thunderstorms.

"Marisa, I like you," he tells his reflection, flushing red from the weight of his own words.

[Name] gasped, her jaw dropping to the center of the earth—the surprise simmering in her soul that it had frozen her over where she stood, causing her grip on the soccer ball to loosen. The ball slipped from her hands, descending step by step down the stairs, sounding like a drumroll for impending doom.

The sound had Karasu whipping his head in her direction looking like roadkill. Blushing, in the nicest word; lovesick in the worst.

"YOU LIKE MARI—!"

Karasu, in sheer mortification, bolted toward her, yanking her away from the stairs and slapped a sweaty palm over her mouth before she could blacken his name in his own household. His heart racing faster than when he stayed past curfew and had to go home knowing his mom was waiting for him by the door with a slipper.

“Shaddap!” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as he glances around like a criminal.

Meanwhile, downstairs, in the living room, Tsubame glanced at the direction of the stairs—noting the series of thuds and muffled and restrained yelling—raising a questioning brow as it had her pausing mid-laugh. A minute of silence ensued after that, so she immediately concludes that it was probably nothing… hopefully.

Those two were always loud and rough and chaotic, there existed no day where she could describe them with just two of those adjectives, and frankly, it would never work anyway. Where there was loudness there was chaos, and all the other matches.

Besides, her brother was a soccer player, and [Name] was a karate practitioner.

Totally normal.

Back upstairs, Karasu dragged [Name] into his room like she was a dead body he was desperately trying to hide.

When he was sure that the door was slammed shut and that no other human on earth could possibly lo and behold his newly discovered secret, only then did he let her go. He knew full well that as he stands there all red-faced, heart pumping, colored in all the shades of horror for his impending fate, shoulders heaving as he struggles to regain his composure… Karasu Tabito was never gonna hear the end of her teasing.

And it began the moment [Name] stood up, dusted the dust from her clothes, and looked at him with the most skin-crawling smile to ever graze humanity. “Sooo… Marisa, ey?” She jabs his side with her elbow, her smile growing impossibly wider.

Karasu groans, sliding dramatically against the door like a telenovela star as he hides his face behind his hands. “Yer absolutely not allowed to tell anyone!” he commands, glaring at her from where he was, trying to act all big and scary but failing in [Name]’s eyes since he was far too red-faced like a stoplight to be considered a threat. “’Specially not my sister! She’d tease me and I’d be forced to hit the grave early.”

"Don'tcha worry, Tabito-likes-Marisa, yer secret’s safe with me!" [Name] salutes dramatically, a certain twinkle in her eyes as if his wishes were a heaven-sent mission to their strongest soldier.

Karasu let out an exasperated sigh, ruffling his hair in frustration—already beginning to count the days that remained of his secret.

"So...” She started, leaning closer to him with a mischievous smile, “Whatcha like about her, Tabi-chan?" [Name] teases, wiggling her eyebrows while she was at it, poking his reddening cheeks at the reminder of the pretty girl from class.

His face erupted in all the shades of red—if it was even possible. [Name]’s prodding wasn’t helping his racing heart one bit, in fact, it only made him feel like his own organ was trying to break down his rib cage and run as far away as possible.

He wasn’t getting away from this—not unscathed—so might as well fess up.

"Well, she's really cute." Karasu admits, a tiny, soft smile painting his expression.

[Name] nodded enthusiastically, leaning closer in anticipation. But Karasu remained silent, he was just smiling there like an idiot staring off into yonder.

"What?" he asks as he took note of the unimpressed expression on his friend's face.

"Ya mean that's it?" she deadpans, all the happiness draining from her face at the sight of Karasu's lenient expression speaking volumes far more than when he spoke the words—"Should there be more?"

"Oi! I always thought ya weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I didn't know yer stupidity was this high—OW!" [Name] yelps as Karasu karate-chopped the top of her head, effectively drawing the curtains to her insults to a close.

[Name] glared at him, eyes reflecting the thought: you dare use my own spells against me?

"You don't get a say!” He protests, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Ya never liked anyone but the neighborhood cat!"

Because for the life of him, no matter how many kanji he learned to read or write, he was certain he couldn't convey a hundredth of Marisa's beautiful qualities.

"Liking someone is dumb!" she shot back, wincing as she rubs the top of her head to ease the ache. She was certain she'd develop all the necessary dodging maneuvers from her friend alone.

"Of course, ya'd think that you gorilla." Karasu laughs as he leaned over to pull at [Name]'s cheeks just to annoy her further.

The small conversation was something only the two of them shared. Lost under the stars of all their laughter and the echoes of their smiles… forever just theirs to keep.

Karasu never confessed his feelings for Marisa in the entirety of elementary school, or ever for that matter. And [Name], surprisingly true to her word, kept his secret well, a secret.

That’s why it came as a surprise.

It was the day of their elementary school graduation.

Tabito and [Name] stood next to each other as his sister took their photo, saying that they were one step closer to ‘reaching the age of maturity’ as she had so cryptically put it. Because what on earth could she mean by that? They were plenty mature. It didn’t help that she was smiling weirdly at the two of them while she was at it.

But the biggest shock of the day wasn’t Tsubame-nee-chan’s sudden teasing, no. It was something entirely different.

Marisa called to Tabito just as their class had finished capturing a photo together. [Name] hardly had any time to see everything unravel before she was whisked away by the Karate Club to take a picture of their own.

As she caught the last of their shadows from the corner of her eye—Marisa, all smiles and laughing, Karasu, standing looking like he could snap like a taco shell at any moment but hid his situation very well.

For some reason unknown, the sight of them talking rang an unpleasant melody in the caves of [Name]’s chest, rattling the once peaceful solitude.

She blamed it on the pollen. She blamed it on the heat or the cold, whichever was more prominent. She blamed it on… quite literally everything else. Not willing to admit to anything—not when she didn’t even know what the heck this was.

Later that afternoon, when the two found themselves at the beach loitering on the wave breakers by the roadside to watch the sunset, Karasu told [Name] that Marisa—his life-long crush at the time—had confessed to him.

He told it like it was nothing. As if it was no more than an ordinary occasion, like a weather report!

But [Name]’s reaction was a stark contrast to his nonchalance.

The revelation crashed against her like a tidal wave that nearly had her toppling over the concrete barrier, in danger of falling to the sandy shore—a generous twenty-foot drop at least.

Karasu grabbed her by the scruff of her clothes, heart pounding at the sight of her almost falling— “Idiot, be more careful!” He scolds, carding a hand through his ever-growing violet hair.

“MARISA CONFESSED TO YOU?!” [Name] screams, standing up in absolute shock with zero regards that she almost had a close date with the grim reaper a few minutes ago.

"Hey! I already told ya to watch yerself! You'll fall!" Karasu reminds, reaching out to steady her. His brows remained furrowed as he stayed seated on the concrete barrier, only this time, one hand caged her own as his other found anchor on her ankle.

"Whatcha say? Ya better not have told her somethin' stupid! Gosh this is excitin'—"

“I rejected her.”

The world came to a standstill at the resounding echo of his words. But the tides continued to crash against the shores, drawing away not a moment later. The birds’ orchestra flowed like the spring zephyrs as they flew over the vast finiteness of the horizons. Still… [Name] could not feel herself move from her frozen state.

Wasn’t it too sudden? It felt like only yesterday that she discovered his crush for their classmate. Why… why?

Karasu looks to the ocean with a completely calm face, a stark contrast to the slowly rising tides. The sunset painted him golden, like all the stars melted just to color him in this moment.

When he was colored in that light, saturating him in every shade of soothing silence, softening his features… for the first time in forever, Karasu felt unreachable. Like he belonged to a world she had no right to step into. As though he would continue to travel past the borders of the milky way to some unknown universe far beyond what [Name] could comprehend.

When he was painted in all the colors of the sun, it was hard to deny.

It was difficult to fight the fluttering sensation thrumming in her heart—surging in all the forms of power—of happiness.

[Name] tugged on his arm that held her own, urging him to look at her as she asks, "Why?"

Indeed, why?

For as long as [Name] had known him, Karasu's always liked Marisa. He even went as far as to make her swear not to tell a single soul about his infatuation with the girl, not because he was embarrassed, but because he thought far too lowly of himself—believed that he was too ordinary—for someone like Marisa to ever like him back.

"I... well, we're gonna go to different middle schools,” he shrugs, sweeping it under the carpet like it was no big deal. “It would be a long-distance thing ya get me? So I rejected her." He talks about it so easily, always acting that it isn’t eating him up inside.

He was always like this.

Using the hand that held the hand of the girl standing before him, Karasu pulled himself up from his sitting position. He towered over her easily, already breaking past a hundred and seventy centimeters—a reminder that they were growing up—and he was sure to grow taller in the near future.

"Nothin' weird about it,” he comments apathetically. “Completely normal—ow! Hey! What're ya doin'—[Name]!" He hurriedly shielded his arm from [Name]’s aggravated assault.

“Yer an idiot!” she fires at him, her frustration dropping on him like a bomb.

"Ow! [Name]—stop! You hit like a gorilla—ow!" Karasu finally held her thrashing arms, caging her in his hold so she couldn't hit him anymore.

He wasn't sure why [Name] was acting this way, or why she was so upset over this. What he was certainly most certain of is that her punches hurt. They hurt a whole lot.

"You're an idiot..." she echoes.

Karasu tried to look her way, but it proved to be an arduous task as she kept her head down. A few stands of her hair prevented Karasu from discerning what sort of expression was on her face. He hesitantly let her arms go, watching them fall to her side softly.

Karasu poked [Name]'s forehead, pushing her head slightly to get her to look up.

"Hey..." he calls gently, closing the remaining distance between them with a single stride, "Why're ya cryin'?"

[Name] looks to the ocean, aggressively wiping away the traitorous tears that slipped from the shackles of her eyes. She wasn't gonna cry over this. It was stupid.

"You liked Marisa a lot, Tabito."

It took Karasu by surprise that [Name] called him by his first name, free from her usual teasing jeers and awful nicknames—still, he didn't understand why is it that she was so upset by his situation.

"I just..." she begins, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes before sighing and turning to face him, "It was yer chance to be with the one you loved—"

"Oi, oi... love is a strong word for that—" Karasu wanted to complain, to say that it really wasn’t like that, but looking at the saddened expression of his friend, he thought otherwise.

"—and you let the chance go just like that." She admits, her voice threatening to crumble from the heaviness that she felt—and before long, her tears had broken free from their holding cells.

"I know I can't say anythin' to ya cuz I'm a gorilla and I don't like anyone else but Miiko but don'tcha think it's a waste—" Karasu cut her off by wrapping his arm around her form, tangled her in gentleness that stood in great contrast to his usual rough and jagged demeanor.

Because he didn’t like seeing her cry.

He doesn’t like it when other kids make fun of her, even if he knew that she was better equipped to handle them far more than him. He doesn’t like it when she’s sad. And he doesn't like it when she wasn’t around.

[Name] was an irreplaceable figure in his life… and it hurt him just as much that she—that she was sad… and he felt even worse this time because he knew that he was the one who caused it.

"Gettin' a love life ain't everythin' in this world ya know?" he tells her, threading a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture.

[Name] buries her face in his chest, nodding despite knowing that he wouldn't see.

She felt like the world's biggest scumbag. Her best friend in the whole wide world just turned down the girl he liked for so long. She should've been sad—angry at the world for forcing this fate unto Karasu, to her best friend who was the kindest person on earth. And she was!

Desperately, she tried to convince herself that she was.

But here she was… taking advantage of his kindness. Trying to take more than what she was given.

Because what else could this be? That there was this thrumming sensation in her chest that rejoiced in knowing that Karasu turned Marisa down.

"Hold on, why are you the one cryin'? Shouldn't it be me?" He teased, ruffling the threads of [h/c] that covered her head.

"Idiot!"

---

As the seasons changed and the moon waxed and waned, a good chunk of their time in middle school was spent with Karasu breathing into his soccer career slash club slash obsession, playing alongside Hiori Yo—[Name]’s initial elementary school partner whom she ditched to get ice cream and was later forced to apologize to by her mother—all the while [Name] dedicated hers to Karate.

The two remained as close knit as ever, choosing to wait for whomever had practice the longest so they could walk home together. Spending all breaks and lunches lounging around and glaring at people who looked at them funny. [Name] complaining about chemistry because who the hell would find joy in dragging numbers up and down, sideways and backwards, all over roll over. It was a pain. All she knew was that Protactinium + Nitrogen + Calcium + Potassium + Einsteinium = PaNcaKEs. And that was just about how far her Chemistry braincells could peak.

It didn’t help that Karasu was a wizard when it came to that godawful subject so when it came to helping her with it, tutoring sessions are 5% learning, 3% complaining, with all the rest occupied by his relentless teasing.

A horrible experience.

But for them who had known each other since once upon a time, it was nothing unusual.

Everything the same as ever. Same old science woes. Same old swimming classes despair. Same old faces. Same old Karasu. Same old [Name].

for the majority of middle school, karasu dedicated all his time and effort to soccer—playing along side hiori yo, yn's initial elementary school partner whom she ditched to get ice cream and later apologized for leaving him behind—while yn gave hers to karate. the two best friends remained close as ever. choosing to wait for whomever had practice the longest so they could walk home together. Everything was the same as ever. same old clubs. same old faces. same old karasu. same old yn.

That was until one winter night of their second year of middle school...

[Name] was set to compete for the winter Karate tournament and if she did well, it was one step closer to Nationals.

She trained day in, day out near the field where Karasu played soccer when the school field was out for break.

The soccer player was not privy to her unshakable resolve, even going as far as labeling her—and letting her know—that she was “working so hard like a cow” which he received a kick as thanks.

It was fine during spring—her training that is, even more so in summer, and Karasu would even let it slip in autumn but winter? Winter was a different matter altogether.

For the past days (and even last year), he had told her off for it—scolded her far more times that he would like to admit with a tone laced with all the streamers of irritation and illuminated by the lights of his concern. “Ya gotta stop workin’ yerself so hard like a cow, gorilla girl. You’ll get sick!”

As he makes a move to hit her head like he always did, [Name] dodged and repaid his words with a very kind kick to his side, sending him staggering a few steps away.

"Ya don't get ta lecture me on that, stupid crow! Yer here too, equally as guilty! And don't call me a cow! Or a gorilla!" She points a numb finger in his direction, because even with her stubborn and brutish attitude, it sadly didn't make her immune to the cold.

"Yeah, yeah..." He waved her off with one hand as the other rubbed the spot she kicked.

"But I'm runnin' around so I ain't as cold, but you've just been standin' there for the past thirty minutes, aren'tcha cold?" He quirks a brow at her as he approached her slowly, like a wild predator cautious to scare away his prey.

"Oh, I'm freezin’." She agrees nonchalantly, a mist of white clouds leaving the borders of her lips.

"Act more like it then, idiot." he deadpans, scratching his head in frustration.

"Here," Karasu breathes into his hands moving closer so he could cup her face.

"Woah. Ya really weren't jokin' when ya said yer freezin'" he says in surprise, laughing at his own discovery like it was the most amusing thing in the world. "Are yer hands cold, too?"

He retreated his hands and made a motion to take off his soccer gloves not a moment later, looking at them for a few moments—trying to figure out which hand was right and left, even if they wouldn't matter in the end—before sliding them onto her trembling fingers.

They hung loosely on her despite the Velcro straps going as far as they could possibly go.

Since when did he grow so much?

When she looks away from her hands to thank him, [Name] felt the world around her freeze into place, frosting over like the trees that bordered the field. Light snow descended from the heavens, the last sunrays dipping behind the horizons of the sky as the stars flickered to life one by one.

And then there it was again, that same fluttering feeling from so long ago. Only this time, it set everything in her to flames: her blood rushed far too fast for her head to keep up, lighting the meadows of her face to a vibrant shade of red, setting every hollow and edge into a raging inferno. She felt cold and warm everywhere—like her body couldn't decide if it wanted to burn to ash or forever freeze with winter.

The colors of the night shone in a vibrant light, flowering in circles from the sheer intensity—brighter than the summer sky yet dimmed in comparison next to him—to Tabito who looked at her like she was the only thing in the world, rubbing his hand against his arm to spark heat so he could thaw the frozen wasteland ravaging her soul.

Since when did she begin to see him like this? When did he become so saturated in all the colors of everyday life that he blended in so well?

When... did I start feeling like this?

Don't look at me like that, [Name] wanted to tell him. Don't laugh at me. Don't hold me like this... just don't.

Because if he did—when he does all of this—how was she supposed to fight off this greedy, hungry feeling festering inside her? This needless longing to keep him close to her, to never let him go, to show him all the wonders of the universe... all the colors of the sun, everything that he turned his back on because he believed that he wasn't enough to have any of them.

When he looks at her like that, when he laughs... when he holds her like this—how was she supposed to deny it?

That she was in love with him.

[Name] was in love with Karasu Tabito.

---

When the wave of High School crashed against the two best friends, it brought with it the cruellest game fate could play on [Name].

Marisa… had returned.

The same Marisa she had teased and jeered at Karasu about when they were kids. The same Marisa… Karasu had loved—again, such a strong word—for so long. And she guessed—no matter how much she didn't want to entertain the thought that Karasu could still like the same Marisa from elementary school—he loves even now.

And it nearly killed her inside when she found that her suspicions were true.

It was a week after their first year had begun when Karasu came running from the pitch to meet her halfway, cleats thudding against the grass as she made her way to the bleachers.

"[Name]!" He yells as he ran towards her in full speed it nearly had [Name] contemplate if she should move aside so Karasu doesn't accidentally trample her over. But he ran to her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on him—yes, even happier than the time they won the local tournament—it broke her heart to even think of sidestepping him, even if he did pose as a road hazard from his speed.

"Why'dya hafta feel like ya need to win a marathon, Tabi-chan?" She punches his arm playfully once he skidded to a stop near where she stood (after nearly running her over).

She sets her bag down as she laughed at the sight of Karasu buzzing in excitement. Must be something really important to him if he's this happy about it. Before [Name] could fully turn to face him, he had already grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her back and forth. "She's here!" He cheers.

"Who's here?"

"Marisa!"

[Name] felt her heart shatter from the happiness decorating every word that left the orbit of his tongue, shining like the stars that could’ve littered her evening. She should have been happy for him. Really, she should have shared even half the joy he felt from his supposed amazing discovery. She should've... she knew full well that she should.

So why does it remind her exactly of elementary graduation?

When he was whisked away from her by the same girl who she cheered Karasu to pursue? Why does it remind her so much that she wasn't a figure like Marisa in his life? She wasn't the object of his desire. Karasu didn't hold an ounce of romantic affection for her like he did for Marisa. She... [Name]... was just his friend. She was his best friend. And god... did that hurt—that she couldn't be more than that—when all she wanted was to be a little greedier, to have a place in his heart like Marisa did. She couldn't quite understand it... even if she knew deep down that Karasu liked Marisa, that he had her image perched atop a pedestal in the center of his heart, [Name] couldn't be contented with just being his friend.

The one friend who loved him so much.

The one friend... that he couldn't love back.

"Ya hafta help me, [Name]!” His voiced anchored her back to reality. “I know I told ya that gettin' a love life ain't everythin' but now that I actually stand a chance... I—I don't wanna lose it agai... [Name]? You still there?"

Karasu waved a hand over her face, taking note of the expression painted on her face, almost as if she just saw a ghost. "Hello? This is ground control to [Name], are ya still in orbit?"

Through the haze, [Name] watches as Karasu walked around her in circles, poking her cheeks to try and get her back to him—huh, what an easily misunderstood thought.

She blinked, taking in the way he eyes her in confusion, his ridiculously gelled hair remaining immovable even as he prods and scratched his scalp like they held all the answers in the world. Really, it wasn't him who was stupid for trying so hard... it was her.

Because as it stands, she was the one foolish enough to fall for him.

"Oho~ so yer finally mannin' up to ask her out, eh?" she smirks, her facade tugging at the seams of her resolve, pulling at the pieces of her shattered heart. In the silence of his unspoken rejection, she found herself gluing them together, even if they threatened to come apart later. Just a little longer, she would coerce. Just a little more... so that he doesn't find out—so he wouldn't find out—that his feelings... were slowly killing her.

"Don't even start," Karasu holds a hand to her face, he couldn't stomach that teasing shine in her eyes. How long has it been since he last saw that? Far too long he believes, still... he asked himself why he didn't miss it as much as he thought he would've.

Back then, even if it annoyed him to the point of starting a fist fight with [Name]—which he not-so-surprisingly lost every single time—he would secretly be grateful that she pushed him to go reach for the things that made him happy. In his little love life endeavors. No matter how badly it ended for the two of them—like getting scolded for coming home late or getting accompanied by the neighbor who owned Miiko, the cat, back home.

So why now? He didn't quite understand why it had to be now that it felt so wrong to see her pushing him towards someone else again.

She used to do it all the time, and it never bothered him.

Karasu briefly asked himself if the reason behind it was because they spent three—going four—years having no one else but each other. No, that couldn't have been it. Hiori was there sometimes, and Karasu was sure it never felt like this unpleasant feeling.

This was [Name] for crying out loud! The elementary kid who offered a half-eaten popsicle to him like it was some treasure. [Name] whom he pushed into the mud pond and laughed as she tried to get the dirt off her face. [Name] who could kick him so hard that he would fight to hold back his tears—even now that they were in high school.

[Name] was his best friend...

"I'll help ya get with 'er!" she grins, planting her hands on her hips in that little mannerism of hers that Karasu bets she doesn't even know she does, as though she was about to give him some prophet-level guidance free of charge.

Karasu just stares at her, longer than he would have liked to admit. Has she always been this short? Or did he simply grow taller?

Had they always been like this?

Yeah, she was his best friend.

And there should be nothing more.

…Right?

---

And so, the first semester of their first year in high school was spent planning ways to get Karasu together with Marisa while [Name] pulled all the hair on her scalp trying to hide her ever growing affection for her violet-haired friend.

This also consisted of asking around the campus for Marisa with [Name] doing all the "cow's work" as Karasu had oh-so-gently put it, which merited him a much-deserved kick to his shin.

He had many excuses. One, he didn’t want to seem desperate (which he was). Two, he was too busy (which he is). And three, apparently, he didn’t want any rumors to start going around that he was still pining over his elementary school crush (which he very much was).

Even if [Name] told him not to be ashamed of it, Karasu still couldn't bring himself to do it...

Part of it, though, was because he didn’t miss the way the fire in [Name]’s eyes froze over whenever it was mentioned. He just decided that he didn't like that even if he didn't know the reason why. It bothered him. A lot.

If it were [Name] who asked around, it was different. There would be nothing to worry about since she was also a girl, and girls look for other girls all the time, didn't they? They even accompany each other to the restroom like a pair of FBI Agents.

And if Karasu were to lay his heart bare for everyone to see, the only girl he looked around for, flipped heaven and earth over, out of his own jurisdiction and nearly toppled over in despair when he couldn’t find—aside from his mom and his older sister—was [Name].

But he didn’t know how to tell that to her.

The two best friends (mainly [Name] doing all the hard work) discovered a couple of interesting information about Karasu’s person of affection:

Marisa was in the swim club, an extremely coincidentally convenient twist of fate since the pool was by far the nearest facility near the soccer field (the dojo the farthest having been located on the other side of the school).

She excelled in Japanese Literature and Chemistry.

She worked part-time at a local café on Saturdays around the afternoon, another heaven-sent opportunity since soccer practice ended right before noon.

And finally written at the bottom of the paper in all caps along with a few doodles of hearts.

4. MARISA LIKES MUSHROOMS!!! ❤❤🍄❤❤

"Is that enough, yer highness?" [Name] asks him sarcastically, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes as she had spent majority of her night stalking Marisa across all social media platforms.

She could pass as a CIA agent by now from all this digging.

She eyes the page ripped from her notebook that Karasu held in one hand as they sat face to face in the classroom—with their desks pushed together to accommodate their lunches.

Written on the slightly wrinkled paper, in messy scrawny handwriting were the fruits of her hard labor.

"I better get compensated for his, you rabies-infected crow." she mumbles, resting her head on the desk, closing her eyes from the tiredness.

"Wow, ya got all of this in one night?" Karasu scans the paper, they weren’t much but it was still far more than what he could’ve gathered on his own. His stare lingered a moment longer on the girl—noting the way her head stayed resting on the desk, exhaustion seeping through the crevices of her skin as he observes the way her entire frame wilted from exhaustion.

[Name] hummed in confirmation, far too tired to give a worded reply. Now that the less than sufficient hours of sleep were getting to her, she feared that if she spoke another word to Karasu about Marisa, she would end up saying something she'd regret. So, it was best to just... stay silent.

It's getting easier to hear Karasu talk about Marisa. Bearable in the kindest word; numbing in the worst. Still, it didn't mean that she could deny that it hurt any less.

Learning to live through something was very different from accepting it, especially when it was the one you love loving someone else.

[Name] just hopes that she gets over this soon—because the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of Tabito's happiness. Or worse, lose him because of her own selfishness—because she couldn't get over a silly pathetic crush—that she couldn't stop wanting, praying… hoping to have him more than a friend.

"Oh, she likes mushrooms," she hears Karasu mumble, seemingly intrigued.

It was better to pretend that she didn't hear him. It's better this way, she tells herself. He wasn't going to remember anyway, but somehow, her traitorous mouth always worked faster than her brain, a step too late to grab the chance to hold her tongue before she says something she would regret... which is now.

"Ya can give her yer mushrooms now, Tabi-chan."

Silence blanketed the distance between them, seemingly setting them apart from the reverberating chaos ensuing in the classroom.

[Name] was embarrassed beyond belief, feeling her entire face catch fire yet was too exhausted to shield it away from him—not like he could see, but still!

Please let the ground swallow me whole.

Karasu looks to her like she suddenly grew three heads. "I'll always give ya my mushrooms, [Name].” He whispers softly, placing an elbow on the table, propping his face upright with his palm as he unconsciously smiled at the blush that littered the meadows of her face.

“Ya love 'em right? Just ‘bout the only other thing ya like other than Miiko." He snickers at his own jest, remembering a time in their childhood where [Name] would look over the fence and stare at the neighbor's cat for hours or chase it around the little alley way near Miiko's house.

She felt her heart skip a beat. [Name] blamed it on the weather, or perhaps a growing ailment that made her heartbeat irregular. This was practically Arrythmia—dangerous and a health risk!

But she was sure that heart diseases didn’t come with lingering affections for your best friend. It also didn’t come with the pain of knowing that he was never gonna like her back. And she was most certain that it wasn’t attached with happiness after knowing that he remembers…

[Name] didn't like that she felt happy that Karasu knew that little thing, even if everything about her had practically become baseline knowledge for the soccer player. She just didn't like it.

"Uhuh," she agrees mindlessly, her voice squished by gravity as she remained still laying her head on the desk facing the window and looking at the world vertically.

"When ya marry her, can't just go out in the middle of dinner ta hand me some mushrooms, right?" She teases, the rumble of her laughter feeling more like a hurtful jab to her already breaking heart.

"I guess..." Karasu no longer stared at the paper he held in his hand, opting to observe his very sleep deprived [Name].

Maybe the dryness of her eyes was getting to her or perhaps she was tired of him beating around the bush and walking on eggshells every time Marisa was around.

Karasu sighs, folding the paper three times and tucking away in the safety of his bag. The raging inferno in her soul dwindled to a small flame, her usual bladed tongue that cut through his ego had dulled, her silence all too prominent in a world where everyone had something to say.

Ah… I don’t like this.

"Hey, gorilla woman." he grips her head like a ball, although he took a conscious effort not to hurt her—lest he risk his well-being be a training dummy for the karate practitioner.

[Name] tried to wave away his arm but right now, she was too tired to even lift her hand. She could only mumble a very annoyed, "Don't call me gorilla, you rat-nest haired crow."

"Let's go to a café this weekend." he suggests, taking a strand of her smooth hair and twirling it between his fingers like it was some sort of scientific breakthrough.

Was it weird that he was inviting her to go out all of a sudden?

But this was [Name]! They always went out together whether it's the local fair, watching a soccer match, those late-night convenience store runs... this was nothing special.

Karasu started to chant that phrase like a mantra in his head. He was catching himself doing that too much—trying to convince himself that it was nothing—that spending time with [Name] was like a norm already.

They've done it a thousand times and he reckons, a thousand more after this... so what's the difference?

His heart thudded against the confines of his ribs at the sight of her: tired beyond all rhyme and reason, brows furrowed from the noise buzzing in the small room filled with their classmates and other students, her empty bento box next to his own like yin and yang. Salt and pepper. It wasn’t complete without the other.

Has she always been this present in his life? Since when? When did she start to be so interwoven in everything he did that it became strange when she suddenly disappears even when she’s right there? Really… since when?

Since forever...

And maybe, just maybe, that was the difference.

An idiotic part of [Name] rejoiced at his invitation—

"We can see Marisa there while we're at it," he quickly adds without thought, afraid she might misunderstand.

—yet all too suddenly; cruelly, she is reminded that she shouldn't long to be more than just his friend.

"Sure thing, Tabi-chan..." she whispers softly, forcing the thorns in her throat to pin down the hurt so they wouldn’t tumble out—that he may never see them.

And there, with the afternoon gale flowing past the curtains, she feels her heart breaking a little bit more.

---

When the weekend rolled around, Karasu finished his soccer practice exactly before noon, leaving him with a few spare minutes to change into the extra clothes he brought with him. Initially, he felt like the unluckiest athlete in the world when he dragged his ass here at 5 in the morning yet now that he was preparing to spend the rest of his day earlier than what he originally planned, he began thinking that it wasn't so bad after all. At the very least, it gave him enough time to go and see [Name] look at him in envy that his practice ended earlier than her.

[Name], much to Karasu's expectations, did not look at him in jealousy as he had hoped. Instead, she was second-in-line for kicking practice, looking like all the forces of good and evil conspired together to make her day as terrible and energy-draining as much as it could.

The Karate coach, a middle-aged woman who was also their gym teacher, made everyone stay back to practice some drills, claiming she saw it on her social media feed last night and wanted everyone to try it out... and no one was going to leave until at least one of them got it. It was cruel—very much the kind of savagery she expected to get from this tyrant (coach) in her innate domain (karate)—not that she was any stranger to cruelty, though she would be lying if she claims she didn't feel just a little bit sad when she was at the receiving end of it.

Karasu was allowed to stay in the dojo and watch, so long as he remained a safe distance from any potential kicking pads that might come flying his way—a warning he engraved to his mind and soul after getting smack-dabbed in the face by one, and many, many close calls.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd watch [Name] practice; he'd been making the trip from the soccer field to the dojo ever since the beginning of first year that the coach relented and let him stay no matter how many times she told him to go away.

Karasu didn't mind the extra cardio, more often than not, [Name] was the one who had practice running so far from dismissal time, leaving him with nothing to do but sit and wait for her to finish so they could go home together. And it was rarely the other way around.

But seeing her here, in her element, always tugged at something in his chest. A sort of reminder that this was the girl he was lucky enough to call his best friend.

When it was [Name]'s turn to do the drill, everything faded to silence... until it was just her: bouncing on her feet under a thousand shimmering lights, drawing in a breath in preparation. And like the flow of the spring zephyrs, she sliced through the air like a fairy—an aggressive and very, very strong fairy—striking the lowest pad with her left foot, her right foot forcing the middle pad to fly, and finally—after so many failed attempts and an almost sprained ankle—successfully kicked the last top pad with her left foot.

She landed gracefully, like the first fall of snow, shattering the momentary reverie Karasu found himself raptured into.

What the hell?

[Name] looked to her coach in miserable anticipation, a silent plea to release her from this torture. It was between this room and this witch how many times she and her teammates had to do that godawful trick.

The coach gushed over the exhausted [Name], complimenting her for a few seconds before dismissing training.

[Name]'s tired vision zeroed in on Karasu, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, bag next to his side, and looking every bit the part of someone going on the most anticipated date of his life. [Name] blamed it on the light, or the fatigue seeping into the cracks of her heart, but for a small moment, a foreign light shone through the depths of sapphire pools of his irises.

She thought nothing of it, choosing to lazily wave at him from where she stood, completely oblivious to the lingering glimmer in his expression or the way his face shone brighter at her greeting as he waves back; that for the first time ever, the usually cocky soccer player found himself drowning in the oceans of shyness and hesitance at the sight of his best friend.

"Imma change real quick, so wait for me a little longer, 'kay?" she called, brushing past his figure as she sluggishly—bag in hand—made her way to the locker rooms.

Karasu nodded absentmindedly, his eyes tracing the shadows of her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

C’mon, me, this isn’t the time to feel all mushy for [Name]! That’s [Name]! Your best friend! The gorilla girl next door always working hard like a cow, he internally scolds himself.

Karasu let out a low groan, slumping over on the floor, staring at the place where [Name] once stood. He swore he could almost see her figure there, and he would have believed his own illusions if he didn't just see her walk past him to go change.

The soccer player runs a hand over his face in frustration. "Honestly, what's wrong with me..." he mumbles, covering his head with his arm like it can somehow magically put out the wildfire wreaking havoc on the meadows of his face, burning through his resolve like paper.

In the locker room, [Name] was facing a dilemma of her own.

"Hey, [Last Name]-chan, are you and Karasu-kun going out?" one of her teammate asks, a gentle curiosity for Karasu and her long-term friendship, but the words felt like collapsing stars in the once quiet place.

In horrified befuddlement, [Name] screamed an anguished—"Huh?!" like the words her teammate spoke had been a cursed enchantment that will linger through her bloodline for a thousand generations and not the fantasy she wanted to bleed into reality.

"That gel-faced crow who's scared of water? Hell no!" she denies, trying to have it look like the teases and jeers she usually passed around with others.

"But he always waits for you to finish practice" her teammate pointed out.

And it was true—Karasu always made the trip across campus just to wait for [Name] to conclude training no matter how long it dragged on. She recalls the many times the soccer player had fallen asleep by the door, using her gym bag as a pillow because, according to him, her clothes were fluffier and a lot more comfortable that the mess of dirty, sweat-drenched heap in his bag he called clothes.

And as told by another one of his anecdotes, [Name]'s stuff (and even herself) were lot more preferable sleeping buddies than a soccer ball. A soccer ball! Then there was also the day he carried her home after a particularly bad fall from kicking practice, even if Karasu himself was tired beyond belief.

"That mole rat's been around for so long, we prolly look the same in everyone's eyes by now." [Name] jokes as she continues to rummage through her bag, shaking her head from the horrible image of her having Karasu’s hair.

"And besides..." she murmurs, her gaze distant as she stares at the dress she chose—picking apart her closet all night, spending so long trying to carefully place it in her bag—only to betray herself by abandoning it last minute.

He already likes someone else.

---

The walk to the café was relatively silent.

Karasu kept the comments of [Name] being far too quiet for the past week to himself. He thought, maybe she was just tired. The school festival was coming up, but she also still had to train. It was cruel, especially the arduous training he saw her endure earlier that she looked ready to rearrange her coach’s face to roadkill.

Domed by an eternally blue sky, he glances at her from the corner of his eyes.

She looked like hell!

Karasu wasn’t about to lie and tell her that she looked great—that would just be cruel—so he chose not to say anything at all.

He didn’t trust himself with his words, a restraint he put on himself like heaven’s command after he caught himself looking around a store and thinking: Oh, [Name] would like this,or, She’d look good in this, before a hollowing echo of, She always looks good in everything though,would cause him to freeze where he stood and cover his face in shame for having such thoughts.

By far the worst case of this was when he stopped someone because he mistook her for [Name]—it was ridiculous! This was getting outrageous!

Yet one look at her, right here, when all the colors of the sun had painted her in an ethereal light, how could he still think that she was the most beautiful person on the planet?

It must be witchcraft. A curse put upon him for lying. A truth… that he was finding increasingly difficult to deny.

Absolutely… ridiculous…

"You tired?" he asks casually, even if the answer was staring at the road in the form of dark circles heavier than Oganesson.

"Nah.” She smiles through the haze, lazily eyeing him from the sides. “This is the usual ain't it?" she laughs, shifting the weight of her bag that she refused to let Karasu carry despite his many offers and demand for her to just give it to him.

"Don't act so tough, gorilla woman. If yer tired, we can always just go another day." He rubs the back of his neck, finding no other thing to do to ease this shaking sensation in his cardiac muscles.

"Stop callin’ me gorilla woman, you turd-face crow,” she barks, though her tone didn’t hold an ounce of real bite. “'Sides... we're already here. It'd be a shame to leave now."

They stood in front of a glass-front café, cakes and other deserts peering at the passersby from the window. The little signboard by the door offering a warm welcome.

The scent of something faintly sweet weaved with the aroma of coffee waltzed though the warm air of the shop, a low hum of conversation rippling the serene atmosphere.

It thankfully was not the busiest place on the planet. There were a couple of middle school kids by the window side laughing amongst themselves, an office worker staring blankly into the horizon as the sunlight caught her auburn hair in a shimmering light, lastly, an elderly couple shared a pie and some loving smiles near the bar.

"Welcome!" A melodic voice cuts through the air, littered with all the scent of flowers in an open field, warm like the hearth of a fire.

Karasu turned at the direction of the voice, squinting at the sight of a girl in an apron holding a notepad. Who the hell was this loser? He thought, amused in the kindest light, domineering, in the worst.

The soccer player pushes [Name] to an empty booth, telling her to go order whatever her heart desires.

“Just get me whatever,” she mutters, closing her eyes looking every bit like the monks he occasionally sees on TV… only cuter—what the actual hell?

“Sorry to burst yer bubble but they aren’t sellin’ that here.” He teases, reaching over to pinch her cheeks to get her to wake.

“Ow! Quit that!” She yelps and swats his hand away, sticking her tongue out at him before grabbing the menu from the table. “I’m gonna make your pockets hurt, turd-face.”

She buries her head in the menu dedicating every bit of concentration on the booklet, and he let her—even if he knew how this was gonna end.

“The Chocolate Milk non-coffee drink! And some cake trio platter!” she smiles at him—like he hung the constellations in the sky, or that he had been the one who conjured all the colors of the sun—the first in a long while, so it seems.

“Ya always get that everywhere we go.” He sighs, tracing her features with a gentle gaze.

“Ya asked me what I wanted, and I want that—” she raises her voice in faux defiance as if daring him to contradict her.

“Yeah, yeah…” he waves her off, flicking her forehead to add to her ire. “’Scuse me,” he calls over the lady who welcomed them earlier.

[Name], lost in her own thoughts, allowed her gaze to linger on his side-profile from under her lashes. It wasn’t intentional. Why was he sitting there like that anyway all broad-shouldered and tall and—and…

She sighs in defeat.

When did you get so pretty? She thinks, mapping the edges of his jaw, memorizing the sudden sharpness in his gaze.

When did I get so sappy? She lets out a breath, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

"Oh, Karasu-kun! Long time no see!"

The greeting caused [Name]’s eyes to shoot open, her stare landing on Karasu before it traced his gaze to the café worker smiling at them—at him, every atom the embodiment of a daydream. Built upon the foundation of effortless femininity.

“Uh…” Karasu trails off, unsure of what to reply. He was certain he didn’t know this person—

“You don’t remember me?” the waitress points to herself, “It’s Marisa, from elementary school.” She laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears.

Karasu didn’t speak for a moment, short enough to feel natural yet all the stretch to let [Name] know that he was struggling to think about what to say.

"Marisa… Oh, Marisa!” His voice raises higher than expected, like he was caught red-handed for something he was guilty about. “Didn't expect you to be working here." He says, his easy-going tune hiding the truth that they intentionally chose this place because she was working here—that it was not a fated coincidence but a conspired plan. That was what [Name] thought, after all, she was the one who brought him here.

But Karasu… Karasu had forgotten all about that.

"[Last Name]-san, too. Hello," Marisa greets politely, every inch of her polished to a girly perfection. [Name] nods her head in acknowledgement, mumbling a quiet “Hi”.

"So, what can I get you two?" She asks smoothy, quickly pulling out a notepad.

Karasu steals a glance at [Name] finding her slumped where she was seated, painfully aware of the feel of her knee grazing his from under the table.

"I'll get the bamboo shoot soup if ya will." He replies cooly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and it probably was.

What wasn’t natural, however, was that…

"Ever the favorite, huh?" Marisa teased, writing down his choice. "Ours have some mushrooms in it, so do be careful."

…She remembered.

"No biggie, [Name] here loves those." Karasu tilts his head to her direction. Did he have all the intention to rub it in her face that he was so close to getting the girl of his dreams? Or did the world mocked her through him as if saying, in big bold letters: Stop dreaming already, girl, yer never gonna get ‘im. Totally not cool.

[Name] didn’t know how to reply, she had no intention of doing so in the first place since she wasn’t even supposed to be part of this conversation to begin with.

"Really? I love mushrooms too, [Last Name]-san." Marisa beams, smiling like an angel.

"Well ain't that a surprise!" Karasu laughs.

No... it really wasn't.

He was enjoying this too much, [Name] thinks. How cruel does fate have to be that [Name] was hearing this conversation right in front of her face? Pretty damn cruel. She was no stranger to that, her coach made sure of it, fate made it certain, and the world set it in stone so that she may never forget.

Yet it still hurt. It hurts… so much. Every time she’s led back to this road, back to this desolate, empty, and pot-hole-riddled road—her resolve… breaks just a little bit more.

But she took one look at him, at Karasu—her best friend in the whole wide universe—looking so happy, and she plunged to freezing depths of her acceptance.

She steeled her heart, tightened the seams that they bled through the threads. Just a little longer, she whispers. Please, just for a little longer. Karasu's happy. Finally, after three long years of waiting for this chance, it's already within his grasp.

That's right.

This is how it should be.

This would be the inevitable outcome of all this planning and running around. All so he can be with her.

These useless feelings need to go away, they need to leave because they would just get in the way. They'll wedge themselves between Karasu and his happiness. [Name]’s yearning to be more than just a friend in his eyes would drive him away. Karasu didn't think of her like that. He didn't like her that way. And he would never. And she needs to learn how to accept that.

Because why would he—how could he—if Marisa was the one in front of him? How could he bring himself to love [Name] when the girl of his dreams liked him, too?

I'd rather see them happy together. So happy that it'll show just how ridiculous it is for me to want him. Until I can't even dream of it anymore.

Because that was how it should be.

This was the reality.

[Name] loves Karasu that much was true.

But... Karasu loved Marisa… and no power on earth was going to change that.

---

"Isn't this strange," Tsubame, Karasu's older sister, mused, looking up from her schoolwork all the way from the dining room table to stare at her little brother's entrance like he was some strange lab experiment gone wrong.

"What's strange?" Tabito questions, yanking his shoe off with all his usual carelessness before haphazardly shoving them in the cabinet by the door.

"Yer not with [Name]-chan."

Tsubame now stood before him, an inch taller than him, courtesy of the higher leveling of their living room from their entry way.

"Didja get in a fight with her or somethin'?" She buzzed around the taller male like a bee, completely forgetting about her work still littered on the table. "Finally win? Yer count is on an outstanding three to fourty seven, those three wins because you cheated!"

Karasu dodged his sister's nosiness, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to fill it with his usual kelp tea.

"We didn't fight," he mumbles, from his spot, he could see past the window above the kitchen sink and to the window of [Name]'s living room. "She was just tired 's all." He answers mindlessly, rinsing off his glass before turning to leave, brushing past his older sister and her simmering curiosity.

Tabito didn't understand it himself.

That was supposed to feel like mission accomplished! He should've been over the moon, even reaching farther than the center of the galaxy... but he wasn't.

He blamed it on the mushroom he was forced to eat! He blamed it on the karate team's coach. He blamed it on destiny, on fate, on any other higher being messing with him and laughing in the coves of their habitats!

Most of all... he blamed himself.

Whose fault was it other than his that all [Name]’s hard work got burnt to the ground?

Because when he talked to Marisa for the first time in three years—just when he thought it would be a lasting moment that would echo for all eternities to come—he felt absolutely nothing. Like that day back in elementary graduation. Completely impassive from that girl's confession.

Empty.

He didn’t even recognize Marisa! He called her a loser! And despite having her right next to him, within arms’ reach, close enough to hold, all the bit possible to touch… all he could think about was the girl sitting in front of him.

How her eyes looked too tired, that she probably wanted nothing more than to sleep, or get that tournament trophy over and done with and goof around.

Everything about Marisa blended with all the colors of the earth, nothing but a backdrop to make everything else shine. Her voice fading to a dull echo until all he could hear was the silence…

"Ya can't keep denying, Tabi-chan."

...Silence left by the lack of [Name]'s presence.

It must be witchcraft; someone must've cast a spell on him on the way home! That must be it! Because why on earth was he hearing [Name]'s voice in the safety of his home when he very much clearly saw her walk through her front door and shut the door on his face?

He blamed it for forgetting to clean his ears earlier, because the next words he heard came in the form of his sister's voice. "If there's somethin’ ya wanna say to her then ya better say it."

It was tsubame-nee-chan from the very beginning.

It was just Tabito thinking otherwise. It was him summoning all these hallucinations of [Name]. Conjuring the image of her in the afternoon haze, seeing her face in the breaks of dawn, hearing her voice in the horizons of twilight. It was all him. All him.

"It'll make ya feel better if yer just honest with yerself. Do it now while ya still have the time." Tsubame places a comforting hand on her little—who is now not so little—brother's shoulder. "Regret always comes when the moment's over."

"Does this come from yer personal experience?" Tabito shot back, evading what he already feels engraving in his heart.

"Imma let that slide, you ungrateful brat," Tsubame smiles through her irritation, before it quickly thaws to a sigh, "It's an old saying, Tabito. 'Repentance comes too late' or 'the biggest fish is always the one that got away'." She shakes her head, tired of her brother being an idiot!

"While she's still there, just tell her how you really feel."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" he barks, aggravated by the hidden implication, he didn't like that—

"Oh, please! Assess yerself for once!" Tsubame yells, throwing her hands fed up with this idiot’s stubbornness, turning her back and retreating to the dining table to continue her work. “Ya shouldn’t need someone to spell it out fer ya! Figure it out like man, ya idiot!”

His sister’s words strike true, rattling the peace within his great fortress of denial. The weight of it left him standing there in the ruins of his cowardness, unsure if he should rebuild the remnants of something he once had thought would stand for eternity.

Tabito needed to know that for himself, he knew that. He also knew that he shouldn't need an external force to have him work on his tangled feelings of friendship and love, because it would make it meaningless. He needed to find that out on his own.

He needed to do all that gruelling powder and brush work on his own accord and find out for himself where exactly did he cross the line between friends and 'I guess spending life with you wouldn't be so bad'.

[Name] was always there.

Everywhere he looked, in every memory he held, she existed. No matter what point in his life he travels back to—she was just... there.

All the memories he could recall had remnants of her: a smile, her daunting laugh, the pain of her kicks, the scent of daylight that lingers around wherever she goes. She was there. In everything. Everywhere. In all the colors of the sun.

The heat from soccer practice. The gentle gale of spring. The moon in all its glory. She was there. The laughter echoing in the streets. A shadow in the playground. The starting thought before daybreak. A lingering memory before he succumbs to slumber. She was there.

In all his thoughts, every action, every smile, every laugh... they all led back to her. The fall of snow, the rain of petals, the crashing waves, the eternal saturated autumn sky.

There's a piece of her in everything.

When did it all change?

When did I start seeing you like this? When did I go so far beyond the boundary that I couldn't see that everything was blurring past all the colors of friends? When did I start missing the sound of your voice? When did I start staying in the illusion that I didn't see you more than a friend?

When did I...

This was the reality.

An undeniable truth he had always run away from. Choosing to cower behind the fragments of a past he had long swept out of his heart.

He was in love with her.

Karasu Tabito... was in love with [Name].

And he has been for a long time.

---

When Monday morning came in, Karasu showed up on her doorstep with his uniform thrown on his figure looking like a whirlwind passed him by on his way to her house.

He gave her his usual smirk, trying to bite at her ego from the way he stares at her. Condescending from an outsider’s words; lovesick from his.

“Didja run twenty before comin’ here on somthin’?” She teased, fixing his crooked tie with a laugh.

Karasu stares at her face scrunched into concentration, his head buzzing from the drumming of his heart—reaching all the way to the tip of his fingers. He prayed to all the deities out there that she couldn’t hear the way his chest wanted to split open from the lingering warmth of her touch. Or that she couldn’t feel that his body was emitting more heat from her close proximity.

Did he do this on purpose? No.

But for once he thanked all the cells in his body for working late on a Monday morning because he gets to be at the receiving end of [Name]’s warm touches.

“Tabi-chan? Are ya listenin’?”

Karasu’s momentary reverie crumbled at the sound of her voice. [Name] eyes him with heavy concertation, tilting her head as she looks up at him, her hand no now holding to the strap of her bag.

“Sorry, what were you sayin’?” he whispers, his breath falling short and had his words tumbling like the wind, left for only his and the earth to hear.

[Name] paid no mind to his strange demeanor, shifting her weight from one foot to another and looked at anything but his searching gaze.

“I said I was sorry,” she purses her lips together, the words didn’t taste particularly unpleasant, but the reminder of their laughter still haunted her more than she’d like to admit. “Fer cuttin’ yer date short with ‘er, I mean.” She clarifies, shutting the door behind her as she steps a foot onto the front lawn, walking past Karasu who stood on her porch a moment longer than usual.

Karasu quickly pulled himself together and closed the distance she put between them in a few large strides, slyly taking her bag with her as he distracted her with conversation.

"'S nothin'. We had a talk while ye were dyin' in the bathroom," he muses, poking at her side to rile her up.

"Hey! I wasn't dyin'—" [Name] rose to protest, because she really wasn’t. She excused herself to the bathroom to spit out whatever the hell it was that she ate—"Their bread had raisins on them. Raisins. I hate raisins." She argues defensively, crossing her arms over her chest… entirely unaware that her bag was no longer in her hold.

"Could've given them to me," Karasu shrugs, leaning half his weight on her, a terrible habit he developed when they were nine years old and hasn’t grown out of ever since.

[Name] dragged her weight to her legs, trying to keep both him and her upright. She doesn’t wanna topple over the sidewalk... again. It’s happened too many times already, and with more than at least ten of their neighbors seeing.

"Not in front of yer Mona Lisa," [Name] sneers, pushing his ever-drawing face away.

"Puhlease, she's hardly a Mona Lisa." Karasu comments, voice mumbled by the nice-smelling hand that belonged to the girl next to him.

[Name] was not sure how to respond to that. The truth was that they left the café after they finished eating. But some might think, oh, isn’t that what you do though? Well, it was what she wanted to do. She planned that meet-up to end with Karasu and Marisa living happily ever after. But as she went to the bathroom, came back, and told Karasu that she had to go home because she wasn’t feeling well—he offered to walk her home. It was what a good friend does, really it was. But you don’t do that when the girl you like is standing right next to you!

Plus, they talked about that! [Name] told him that she was gonna make up some dumb excuse to get them alone. This was the dumb excuse! But he was being more of an idiot than the idiotic excuse leaving her lips.

In the end, they ended up bidding her farewell… with Karasu lying through his teeth that he was gonna come back—not that [Name] knew that considering she was far too busy glaring at him from the side.

"Marisa... has a boyfriend already,"

Karasu’s voice froze the gaping silence between them, his words flying into the blue skies, forever left to find their way to the land of acceptance Karasu has long since passed.

[Name] looked to him in shock, stumbling over her step before regaining her footing only to gawk at him again.

Is that true? Did Marisa really have a boyfriend? Since when? I never saw that on her socials. Did Karasu confess or something? Or was Marisa possessed by some sort of psychedelic mind reader?

[Name] would never know… and she reckons Karasu was never gonna talk about it either. She knows that look, when his eyes stare so far into the distance she begins to wonder if he was seeing a portal to another universe open before his eyes, let’s not talk about it.

"Oh... uhmm,” she starts; racking her brain for an appropriate response that wasn’t Hell yes! or Woo hoo! because that was not appropriate in the least. “That's rough buddy." She awkwardly pats his back, only this time, she had no melted, half-eaten popsicle to offer him. Only a heart, battered and bruised, covered in bandages and held together by a thread… that will only ever be his.

"Ya know, I thought I’d be more upset about it." Karasu looks to the heavens, oddly vocal of what he felt.

Maybe it was morning dew refracted by the early morning rays. Maybe it was autumn gale, ruffling the threads of his clothes. Maybe it was because of her—of [Name].

She looks at him with a raised brow, "And ya aren't?"

He smiles at her, one so gentle it could rival the clouds, replace the sun in warmth… dethrone Aphrodite from her position. “No,” he whispers, “No I’m not.”

He takes it all in, the image of her in this light. Karasu traces the contours of her face, the dust of roses powdered on the hills of her cheeks, the shine of a thousand galaxies in the pools of her irises.

Karasu was never one to believe in magic, or the supernatural… he couldn’t even consider himself an avid fan of the faerie folk.

But if somehow, somewhere—in this vast infiniteness, in the depths of the parallels, and the lullabies of the unknown—if there existed a figure for love, he was sure that it would be her.

"Maybe it's cuz I never liked her enough to begin with."

His confession slipped past his lips in a low murmur, faint enough that it could pass as a song of the fall, but she heard it. Always. Because what else could explain the reason that [Name] had suddenly started choking on her spit.

"Oi! Ya alright? Hey! [Name]! Don't die!" Karasu panics.

"Whaddaya mean ya don't like her?!” She screams, shoulders heaving from the sudden strain on her lungs. “What's all that work for then? Didya lie to me? Karasu Tabito—"

Her tone sent shivers crawling through his spine. "Woah,” he raises his arms in surrender. “Don't go drawin' the full name card on me [Name]." he tries to laugh it off, but the look in her unimpressed eyes told him that he needed to say something else.

"I did get somethin' out of yer hard work," he smiles.

"Which is?" [Name] nods in anticipation, leaning closer.

"Realizin' I don't like her anymore."

[Name] draws a deep breath, releasing it in an exaggerated huff of air, and without another word, continued to walk to school.

This was hopeless.

She walked in front of him. One, because she didn’t want to look at his face at the moment. And two, so that he won’t be a witness to her burning cheeks and her desperately suppressed smile. Yeah, no way in hell was she letting him see that!

"Told ya about it remember?" he calls from behind, a good four to five steps apart.

"I can barely remember what I ate yesterday, ya gotta be more specific."

Karasu stares at the back of her head, a view he’d seen for at least half his life already. "That day… by the seaside."

[Name] remained wordless; she remembers that vividly. Because how could she ever bring herself to forget.

The day that she…

"Ya have the memory of a goldfish," Karasu groans, every bit the telenovela star he was. "I told ya, getting’ love ain't everythin' in this world."

…began to like this guy.

"Oh." She whispers.

"Remember now?"

That memory had always been something she treasured, never an ephemeral wandering like a half-buried shell washed ashore.

[Name] looks to him from over her shoulder as she nods in confirmation. "What's that gotta do with this though?" She continues ever forward, eyes once more trailing to focus on the pavement before her.

Karasu’s answer got stuck in the tunnels of his throat, like his own brain was unsure of the reason why he brought it up in the first place. He just wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice echo for all eternity in the caves of his soul, even long after he’s left this world. "Losin' an ordinary girl ain't worth it to be upset over."

[Name]’s footsteps falters, the edge of her shoe getting caught by a crack appearing out of nowhere, much like her own traitorous heart, once again caught in the snares of his words. The words someone spoke to her long ago echoing in her head, you two are finally reaching the age of maturity. Finally—after so, so long—brave enough to let do of the things that weren’t meant to stay, and to be strong enough to accept those who were supposed to.

"Woah," this time, [Name] turned to face him with a skin-crawling grin, an all too familiar shape, he thinks.

"Who ever knew a day would come when Karasu Tabito calls his lifelong love an ordinary girl—"

"She wasn't a lifelong love!"

---

It took a long time for Karasu to gather the dust and form the courage to profess his love for [Name].

He was cocky, and overconfident, and rough and ragged around the edges, and disliked it when anything went wrong. Basically, he was his own enemy when it came to his own love life. Sure, people liked him enough to give him Valentine’s Day chocolates, but the issue lies in him, not his admirers. For the life of him, he could not be nice to anyone he saw as mundane or boring. He was an—in the nicest way possible—Karasu Tabito was an asshole. His smirk didn’t help his case one bit.

Oh, but how humbling an experience it is for him when she was the one standing before him. The great, I’m-gonna-make-you-see-yer-ordinary Karasu Tabito who stared down his opponents on field, was afraid to tell his best friend that he liked her.

That’s why he had dragged his feelings by the collar all the way to their second year of high school. His sister had more than a few not so nice things to say about him when she hears that up until now, he was still shaking in his elementary-school-boy shorts.

But could they blame him? Yeah, they really could. Even his parents looked at him weird when he always offered to wash the dishes at night because it gave him the excuse to see [Name] from the comfort of her living room.

Still, here he was—beating around the bush with the girl he likes.

But could they really blame him? This was [Name]! The one who could brawl in a gang fight barehanded and win. [Name] who had the nicest laugh and the warmest touch. It was [Name] whom he liked… [Name] who was dyed in all the colors of the sun.

And he was scared to lose her.

Karasu didn’t want to mess this up because not only will he lose her as a lover, he’d also be left to live in a word where he was no longer her best friend.

What if he did confess and she turns him down?

What then?

In his eyes, compared to her—[Name] who was everything in his world—to [Name] who had the nicest smile, and the happiest laugh, Karasu felt mundane in all the aspects of his life.

So sometimes, when his own emotions overwhelm him as he gets so lost just thinking about her in the silence of the night, he tells himself that maybe, it was fine like this.

Tabito and [Name]; [Name] and tabito. Best friends.

Maybe, he should just shut them in, keep it all inside and wait for it to go away, pray for it to go away. He was having loads of fun already. They were together all the time. Maybe... just maybe... it's fine like this. Maybe staying as childhood friends—as best friends forever—isn't so bad.

"Why're ya dressed like an old man?" [Name] raised a brow at him, lips twitching as she fought tooth and nail to swallow her laugh. Her eyes analyze his get up from head to toe, taking in his fake white beard down to his green yukata and his grey haori, and the geta on his feet that echoed with every exaggerated step; wooden footwear she saw inside her grandpa's shoe cabinet. He was hunched over like a shrimp, with a cane to support his weight.

"'S for the class!" he replies with enthusiasm, stroking his fake white beard like some wise old monk.

"Ya look like a senile old man." [Name] snorts, her restraint shattering at the angry look on his face as her laugh resonates in the crowded hallway. She adjusts her grip on the box of props, shoulders shaking from the little giggles that seeped from her lips.

Karasu cracked an eye open to glare at her, and with an added pizzazz, rose in hand to counter—more like agree—with her. "I am a senile old man!"

[Name] laughed harder, the box rattling like the happiness that rippled the once serene calmness of her soul. "Ya sound just like gramps!" She breathes, wiping her eye on the cloth of her shoulder.

Karasu grumbles in defeat, knowing he couldn't win against [Name] and her oh-so-creative teasing.

He dropped the act and adjusted his posture to stand to his full height, ultimately noting that [Name] had stopped laughing once she realizes that in height, Karasu would always have the last laugh. Or in this case, a triumphant smirk on his face as he eyes her from above, not even craning his head.

She squints her eyes at him. “Damn evolution,” she mutters under her breath and made sure her voice was loud and clear as she finishes her sentence with— “Since when did idiots grow to be so tall?!”

[Name] hmphed, turning her head to look away and sidestepped to get past himto move onward to her destination, but before she could, Karasu shifted to block her path.

"What is it now—" The words got lodged in the tunnels of her throat as the weight of the box she’s been carrying since the school gate suddenly disappeared from her arms.

She looked at him, startled to find him looking at anywhere but her. The autumn daylight made the crimson on his cheeks all the more prominent.

Karasu couldn’t bring himself to believe that he could ever be happy with being just her friend. He reckons he never will. It would kill him not to love her beyond all this. If there ever existed a universe where he was contented with that—he was damn sure it would not be this one.

Because he as much as he was cocky, and overconfident, and an asshole. Karasu was greedy. And he was selfish. And painfully stubborn.

"Just helpin' the pretty girl lift the heavy boxes."

[Name]’s face erupted into a thousand shades of red, but this time, she had nothing to use to hide it from him. He caught her by surprise. A dirty trick. Ambushed her to this—this… vulnerable position. She could feel like fire spread through her veins like lava, setting all in its wake into a melting heat, burning at the thorns of her restraint, drowning the caves of her hesitance to a resounding calm, and lighting the heavens of her soul into all the colors of the sun.

She hated this. Stupid Tabito. Before she could contain herself, her embarrassment took reign of her actions, her knee jerks up, landing a solid kick to the back of his thighs.

"Ow!" He yelps, did Karasu ever mention that her kicks were heavy? Well they were. The force of her assault had him fumbling over his own steps, but he could not stop the growing smile on his face.

"Get goin' old man!" she snaps, crossing her arms and glaring at all the things around them. She was flustered. Her body couldn’t decide if she liked it or hated it. Why does he find the need to say that? Why does Karasu have to be so—so… embarrassing?

[Name] buries her face in the palm of her hands, as if her own flaming limb could help cool the raging inferno on her face. Her mind replays his words like a broken record. Pretty girl. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he even mean that? Probably. That stupid crow always pushed her so far, teased her to no end. So, what was the difference this time?

Karasu laughs, a sound so cool and warm, the sting from his best friend’s kick fading to a dull echo. His gaze made from the softest threads, one so intertwined with the melody of affection, blanketed with the warmest colors.

…Maybe it’s because this time around, he actually means it.

And this time, he wasn’t afraid to say it to her.

This one will probably come around to bite him back, but he would take it. Anything the world throws at him—he would take it. Because he wouldn’t allow himself to see another sun if [Name] didn’t go to sleep not knowing that she’s pretty.

---

The day of the school's culture festival rolled around.

For the past three weeks, their class united on the single idea of setting up a little café. By some miracle, they actually pulled it off quite well, despite battling the initial deadline, heavily handicapped at the loss of their two athletes. Between Karasu’s rigorous training schedule and [Name]’s tyrant of a coach monopolizing every spare second of her time for practice, there was no way they were ever going to contribute much beyond the bare minimum.

But [Name] did not want to be dead weight.

She volunteered to carry the boxes containing the ingredients and decorations, carrying them across campus like a one-woman moving company. While Karasu was left with no other option but to dress up like an old man inviting people to come and buy—he would probably garner more attention if he stayed just the way he is, but with his sharp tongue and domineering stare, he would just scare all their customers away (not like a beard and a yukata could hold his words back).

By the time the sun had reached the middle of the sky, they already looked like they wanted to go home—both completely floored from the physical work.

[Name] sat crisscross apple sauce outside the classroom, her back against the wall, and Karasu plopped down beside her, stretching his legs out with a groan—no respect for anyone walking by, his legs were nearly occupying a quarter of the hallway!

Their lunches were as mismatched as their personalities: [Name] poked at the pasta littered with raisins while Karasu grimaced at the sight of mushrooms contaminating his bento.

He knew he should be thankful to his sister who had oh-so-kindly offered to make them lunch seeing as she was on break from college, but Tabito has already told her like a million times! He doesn’t like mushrooms, [Name] does. And [Name] didn’t like raisins, he did!

Without a word, he begins plucking the raisins out of her food like they were newly ripe fruits ready to sell, dumping them on the lid of his bento. In honor of distributive justice, he traded in all the mushrooms he had on his lunch to hers.

"Yer actin' weird," she mutters through a mouthful of pasta, eyeing him from where she sat.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, I've always been this kind." He retorts, smiling to convey his sincerity as he places a hand over his heart like it could vouch for his claims.

"Kind-a suspicious ya mean!" [Name] squints at him, pointing a stick of bread at his face. "Just say whatcha wanna say already!"

"Yer ovethinkin' it! i'm always like this!" he defended, not bothering to hide the way he eyes [Name]’s stick of bread.

If he were to just…

"Hey, Tabi-chan...” her call drew the curtains close to his evil scheme. “What would you do if I got a boyfriend?"

Her question silenced the chaos in his head, pulling apart at all the worlds he built until everything came to a standstill. Until he was surrounded by the never-ending nothingness that came with the weight of her question. Heavier than all the stars, so it seems. Why was she saying this? Why now? Why does it have to be now? Now that he was finally—

But she didn’t wait for an answer. Maybe he was perturbed by his silence, mistaking it for agreement. Yet the truth was that she just caught him off guard.

Like [Name]… he didn’t hold all the answers in the world.

"I probably wouldn't, huh?" she laughs, smiling despite the obvious squeeze in her throat. A jest, in the kindest words; hurt, in the worst. "No one's ever gonna want a brute like me."

That's not true, Karasu wanted to protest. What she spoke of couldn't have been farther from the truth.

He didn’t want her to think like that—she just couldn’t. She was someone who deserved the love she wanted to have… more than anyone else. And he wanted to say that to her. He wanted to tell her desperately that there was someone who loved her—hell, so many people loved her.

Every day, he raced against so many people for her affection, for a chance to feel what it’s like to be loved by someone like her.

"There's gotta be someone out there, right?" he offers. Or right here... if you can only look at me. "Someone who'll love you… just fer who ya are."

"Ya really believe in that?" she asked, laughing again, but this time it sounded more like an escape. She wraps the furoshiki on the bento box, her hands moving far too quickly that Karasu knew she was doing it just so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

But that didn’t matter. She could turn a blind eye to him today. He would wait. Ignore his attempts tomorrow—he would still wait. Stay oblivious to it for the next five years? Then he’ll just have to step up his game.

"I know it."

There was something about the way he said it, shacked by all the chains of his beliefs, as thought there could exists no surer thing that what he knew right at this very moment.

It took her by surprise, stole all the breath reserved in her lungs that she forgot that she needed to breathe to see the next day.

“Ya don’t even need to wish fer that,” he adds, voice steadied by the foundation of his own experiences. “They come naturally,” he continues.

In all the forms you can think of. A piece of paper with the things about yer crush. A soccer ball. The kicking pad almost takin’ yer head off. Or a melting, half-eaten popsicle on a summer day.

“Sometimes… ya never realize ya had them all along.”

[Name] formed her courage from the dust, turning to look at him, despite every pull of gravity telling her not to.

He was never gonna make forgetting him easy, was he? Perhaps he never wanted her to forget. Because how could she when Karasu says all these things that made her heart want to run out of her own chest? When he says all these that it leads her back to her planet-sized crush on him. How was she supposed to get away from him now? How was she supposed to move on? How was she going to ever fully deny that she didn't like him anymore when everything, in everywhere... all the roads lead straight back to him?

“And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”

Karasu smiles at her, one so different from all the others he ever gave her. Dyed in all the colors of gratitude, blessed by the heavens, shaded in all the colors of the sun.

“Because he already does.”

---

"Why'd we hafta go, Tabi-chan?" [Name] whines, tired from all the walking they had been doing for the last thirty minutes, now tired from all the hiking—seriously, who hikes in the evening?

"Whaddaya mean why?” Karasu shot back, raising a questioning brow at her complain. “We always go every year! And don't act like ya don't like it when yer all dressed up." he points to her yukata, dyed in the shade of violets, decorated with the flowing river in the form of cranes. Karasu had to leash his head and make a conscious effort not to look too much lest he risk getting reported for being a creep.

"Only cuz Ma made me,” she admits, tugging slightly at her obi. “Always naggin' 'bout actin' like a girl and lookin' like a girl as if I ain't a girl." She huffs, the corners of her lips weaving to a scowl.

Karasu tilted his head in fond gentleness. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, the sentiment flowing past his lips like the gentle spring breeze. “Yer always beautiful.”

His words crashed against her like a tidal wave: caressing the soles of her feet, drawing back, before coming at her all at once—with little to no warning at all.

[Name] tilts her head to the side to look at him, smiling at him with all the happiness in the universe. “Ya don't look to shabby yerself, Tabito."

Before he could fire back, Karasu caught a glimpse of sparks tracing the obsidian sky, rising to reach the heavens for it to fracture into a thousand colorful fire, dyeing the obsidian canvas with all the colors of man.

Yet he already saw something far more grandeur than those when he looked into the pools of her eyes—reflecting all the stardust and galaxies, as if everything existed just so they could dim when compared to her, like it all came to being, just so they could fall short when she breathes.

"They're so pretty..." she whispers in awe, smiling at the sight of the transient lights.

"Yeah," he hums mindlessly, but his eyes never left hers. You are beautiful.

"I like you, [Name]." Karasu’s words silenced the chaos of the world, as if everything spiralled into nothingness to create a space only the two of them shared.

[Name] stares at him in bewilderment, her lips parted slightly, not knowing what to say.

"Don't look so surprised,” Karasu berates her with a crooked grin. “Whatcha expect? I'm only human, ya know. Ain't immune to yer charms."

"Tabito what the hell—"

Her vision burst forth into multitudes of colors at the sight of him, red-faced, flustered beyond her wildest imagination, eyes that shone with all the bravery and strength in the world, still his voice is riddled with a careful gentleness—like if he spoke any louder, this ephemeral space would crumble and he’d find himself back to reality. But his words would resound in the depths and skies of her soul for all the eternities to come, until all the stars are nothing but a dream. Until the earth is painted with all the colors of the sun.

"I'm in love with you," he confesses, his hand reaching for hers. Shaking from his nerves, determined in his affection.

His eyes searched hers for traces of disdain, any hints that she didn’t want this. Karasu dug through the colors of her face for anything—anything that told him to go away, to never show his face to her ever again.

"And I have been for a long time."

His touch lingered, hesitant to take another step forward.

"I know I'm nothin' much.” He admits, pained at the thought of his own imperfections. “I get jealous easily, and I can't be nice to mediocre people. I can't swim, and I'm afraid of water. I'm prolly the last person ya'd ever want to love ya but..." he falters, his breaths coming in short intakes as he scavenged the lands of his soul for the right words to say—for the courage he had stacked upon one another.

“I don’t—” His voice cracks, holding her hand tightly as if her touch could piece back his crumbing confidence. “I want ya to be happy. God knows that I do. But I don't want to lose ya to anyone else.” But it seems like her warmth could not hold together his voice that shattered from the weight. “I’m selfish. And I’m greedy. If you still have space in yer heart for a little bit more of me, even if the odds are one to a million... then I'd want to have it.”

I'd risk everything to have it.

Karasu looked at her again, mapping the face of the one he loves, breathing heavily until he found the words he always wanted to say. "Yer beautiful. Yer smart, and strong. Anyone would be lucky to have ya love 'em."

He smiled weakly, voice softening to melt into the silence of the night.

"And... I'm just an ordinary guy, standin' in front of the most amazing girl... askin’ her to love him."

He could wait a thousand more years if she told him to. Capture every star in the sky if it makes her happy. Karasu would move the universe for her, and she will only ever need to ask.

He would color the world to her liking if she tells him too.

“Yer an idiot are’ntcha?”

Karasu raised his head to meet the sound of her voice. God, she was so beautiful.

“I guess I am,” he laughs.

“Good on ya that I like idiots.” She tightens her hold on his hand, smiling at him for all that he did and more.

Because people can’t love you exactly the way you want them to. You just have to let them try to do their best.

I think I got sidetracked halfway tbh 💀this is my first time writing a non-tragedy paleontological distaster-ending fic also my first time writing for karasu because he wouldn't leave me alone 😭 I can't believe I managed to give birth to a fic in under four??? yeah four days. I think I began liking this guy like five days ago for some unknown reason 💀 anyway, my requests are still open, and ya can read my other works here! thanks fer readin' 😁❤

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robinsgrl · 2 days ago

Text

since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.

rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.

now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom

the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.

now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.

the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.

the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.

this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.

she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.

now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.

now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)

those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.

now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).

I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.

sensitive topic below here

Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.

And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.

And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.

#I hope this is coherent #and put together well #im staying to talk to my mutuals and pass each other socials before #cause I genuinely love a lot of yall

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love-byers · 2 days ago

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st4 music coding: yearning and miscommunication (& lumax/byler parallel)

alright here we go

this will be long so strap in

(yes this is the post i've been hyping up for like 3 days lol)

there's a song that i noticed plays twice in season 4, in two very similar scenes, and a third that ill talk about later. the first is lucas looking at the hellfire club celebrate, and the second is will looking at mike and el skate ahead of him. i've drawn a few interesting parallels here that i think really strengthen byler endgame. please watch the video above in tandem with reading the post

first of all the obvious: lucas and will are both yearning to be with what/who they're looking at. lucas wanted to be there for the end of the campaign. he asked them to move it, not cancel it. he wanted to be there because he likes being in the club and he loves his friends. and we all know will byers is devastatingly in love with mike wheeler, so that speaks for itself. lucas and will are both feeling rejected, forgotten, unneeded, replaced. they are also both looking at their sibling taking their place. erica took lucas' place in hellfire, and el has taken will's place at mike's side. mike and el were attached at the hip the whole day, and that used to be mike and will. will knew mike long before el did, and before they started dating mike and will were a firm duo. mike and el were heavy on the PDA that day, but mike used to be affectionate towards will too, putting his arm around him, holding his hand, sticking close to him, laying his head on his chest, hugging him, etc etc. now mike can't even hug him. and there's a special sting about your sibling of all people replacing you, and seeing your friends (or crush in will's case) having a great time without you, with the better version of you, not needing you, not even thinking of you. and right there, ladies and gentleman, is where will and lucas are wrong. sure, the hellfire club were happy with erica and about the fact that they won, but they wanted lucas there. the whole reason mike and dustin were upset in the first place was because lucas was choosing the basketball team over them. they accepted that lucas had "gone to the dark side" and went on to find his replacement. they feel like lucas doesn't need them anymore, that he's replaced them with the jocks. and little do they know, that is not true. lucas misses them and yearns to be over there celebrating with them. and though it doesn't seem like it in that moment (lucas' point of view), they miss him and want him there too. they are miscommunicating. the same is going on with mike and will. will feels rejected, ignored, replaced. he thinks mike has basically forgotten he was there. he thinks mike couldn't give half a shit about him. he thinks mike doesn't need him. he will soon find out that that could not be farther from the truth. mike was HOT AND FUCKING BOTHERED. he felt rejected by will. he felt like will was purposefully pulling away. he felt ignored. he felt replaced by will's non-existent friends and maybe even a girl will liked. he felt like will didn't need him anymore, that will was doing great without him. he felt like he had lost will. he, like the hellfire club, accepted (or attempted to accept) that they weren't wanted or needed and leaned heavy into filling that void. (meanwhile lucas' replacement wasn't sufficing, and will didn't even have one). and little does mike know, that is all wrong. he missed will just as much as will missed him. he'd been watching will all day hoping will would talk to him. meanwhile will thinks mike has looked at him like...twice, and so does the audience, because we got will's pov first. this is why the rink o mania fight is so all over the place and dramatic, they're basically running smack dab into each other at full speed. they're both confused because the other suddenly cares about their relationship, and they're both hurt. they are miscommunicating. the hellfire club enjoyed having erica there, but she's not lucas. mike enjoyed hanging out with el, but she's just not will. meanwhile , lucas' replacement for hellfire wasn't sufficing, and will never tried to replace mike at all.

onto more specifc and visual parallels: lucas, el, will, and mike all fake smiles. i really want to stress el and mike, because not a lot of people realize that shot is about both of them. mike is faking a smile too. mike is upset too. mike is trying to appear happy and satisfied too. like y'all please cut my son some slack he was having a BAD DAY. his whole day was shitty too just have some empathy. if you really pay attention, you'll see that mike and el are doing the exact same things in tandem. mike sighs, el sighs. mike fakes a smile, el fakes a smile. mike's smile falls, el's smile falls. they're both trying to conform, trying to pass of lies as reality. "I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies... I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes..."

now lastly: the scene of max listening to the radio call of the game. this falls right in line with the themes of the other scenes. she feels like lucas is doing great without her, like she's not needed. his life is just getting better and better and hers is getting worse. but she's got it all wrong too. she turns it off when the radio guy says "He must be feeling on top of the world right now". he was not. he was feeling shitty and missing his friends. he was missing max desperately, all the time. and he felt rejected by max, like she was steadily pulling away from him. and unlike the others where the distancing happens because of the miscommunication, max and lucas' happened because max distanced herself, and she was not there to see how lucas was really feeling, which was shitty. and yall already know im byler brainrotted as fuck so its extremely important to me that both times this track is used there is romance involved. in the ep 1 scene the song specifically trails into max's scene, roping her into this coding. mike and will are once again paralleled to a canon, requited, well written couple.

i don't really have any closing thoughts

actually here i have one: lucas and will parallels are the reason i wake up and breathe every day

and another actually

at this point to anyone who truly thinks mlvn are getting married:

and byler endgame but wbk

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zolo-san · 1 day ago

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I know I just rambled in the tag, but if you took the time to read all that, might I direct you to this post & my ramblings there as well~

Something about Zoro being one of the most misunderstood and mischaracterized characters in One Piece is funny (not haha funny, funny sad) to me because?? That’s literally how his introduction starts?? With people misunderstanding him and thinking he’s some big, monstrous demon who kills with cause and cannot be trusted or tamed.

Meanwhile the actual Zoro is a driven guy who is often both literally and figuratively directionless in life and found his goals in life through good people (first Kuina and then Luffy). He's tied up in the Marine base not due to those actual crimes he commuted (well not inherently anyway) but because he ‘disrespected’ a Captain's son and stood up for a little girl. He accepts the challenge they present to him and because Zoro himself is a guy that puts his money where his mouth is he assumes the Marines will uphold their end of the deal and let him go (note the actual shock when Koby tells him the truth)

He joins Luffy's crew but also outright says he’s not gonna let his goal take second place to Luffy or anyone else's for that matter, he bears the weight of two people's dreams, his heart isn’t going to be swayed by some pirate.

Speaking of Kuina, her impact and influence on Zoro's life isn’t talked about enough for my liking. She was Zoro's first friend, his first rival, his first goal. He looked up to her so much and his reaction to her passing cracks my heart in half every time because you can seem him just..go numb. Kuina, dead? Kuina, the strongest person he knows, gone? Kuina, who swore to him just yesterday they’d race to the top of the world together, doesn’t exist anymore. His blank face only cracking within the privacy of his sensei before he begs. He begs on his knees, tears streaming down his face please please please let me take Kuina's sword with me. Let me take our dream to a high neither of us could imagine. I won’t let her name die here.

On top of gaining the Wado Ichimonji that day Zoro also gained…fear. Not of death, well at the very least not his own, he gained his fear of not being enough. Kuina kicked his ass every way a person could and still died, what could someone like him do? So he trains…and trains…and trains some more. Overly, obsessively, constantly telling himself he’s not enough, he’s weak, he can’t protect anyone like this and everyone's death would be on him.

As for Zoro being cold and stoic that’s just…not completely true? He’s not stone, he can be excited or sad or angry just as much as most characters he just sucks at showing it canonically (Kuina thinks he hates her before their final fight after all). Sure he’s not as forthcoming about it as some of the other Strawhats but Zoro's more of an action guy anyway, he'll show his love with his protection and unwavering faith.

In conclusion, Zoro is a ridiculously stubborn, incredibly loyal, mildly emotionally constipated, do what you say/say what you mean kinda guy.

(Also that whole ‘Zoro would kill the whole crew if Luffy asked him to’ thing? Top ten stupidest things I’ve ever heard from the fandom and that’s saying a lot. He’s loyal not brainless and heartless guys if Luffy asked him to do that, he would never but I digress, Zoro would square the fuck up with him so fast. DPMO.)

#I think there's a lot of misunderstanding of Zoro's character within the One Piece Fandom (partly because let's be honest media literacy is #apparently not a common skill and tumblr do be the website where we piss on the poor lol)#I think there's this dumb fanon version of Zoro where people take memes about him a bit too seriously and start to view/characterize him as #this brainless uncaring stoic/emotionless cold dude who can't think for himself and is like a fucking zombie for Luffy #which I'm just like ?????????? bitch where?????? I know media literacy is hard 🙄but seriously are we even looking at the same source #material???? and the same character?????#I also think some people misunderstand how Zoro expresses his emotions tbh #He's someone who acts more than he speaks so he expresses a lot through action but that doesn't mean he can't or doesn't verbally express #his emotions or his wants and dreams in fact Zoro very clearly verbally expresses his feelings and dreams/goals quite a bit people just #choose to ignore or not acknowledge it because it doesn't fit into their funny fannon version of him #In a lot of ways Zoro just presents himself as a very traditional Japanese man when it comes it his emotions he's not super outward with #how he feels but it's very clear that he feels his emotions very deeply and cares very deeply for ALL of his friends #Zoro is very much a protector and there are many moments where we see him do a say things that make it VERY clear that he also has a clear #personal moral compass #he is a caring and compassionate character who while he /is/ rough and blunt at times is also soft (i'd like to site that one scene that #makes me cry when I think of it in Alabasta where Zoro washes Choppers back in the bath because that is such a soft and caring moment and a #very vulnerable thing to do I just ;-;) but while one of the most important things to Zoro is to protect his friends (which we see him do #over and over again without any instruction from Luffy - and I agree with op that it probably has A LOT to do with Kuina and the fact that #/he/ couldn't do anything to help or protect her and she despite her being the strongest person he knew she still died) Zoro still clearly #wants to and /does/ continue to pursue his dream #idk man I could write a whole essay about Zoro's character and how so many people don't seem to understand him or mischaracterize him which #is really sad because that happens to in in the actual series as well people make a lot of incorrect assumptions about Zoro #I think the in universe misconceptions/wrong assumptions about Zoro are very intentional on Oda's part tho #He wants the assumed view of Zoro as a cold hearted killer and a 'monster of a man' to be constantly contradicted by who Zoro actually is #and how he acts #I also find it so interesting how unbothered Zoro is by this perception of him by others because Zoro is a very self assured character #he knows who he is and while he has some pride it's not so fragile that he can't push it aside to see that he can be better #also op I can go on for a bit about how influential Kuina was to shaping Zoro into the person he is now and I agree that not enough people #talk about that or give their relationship enough credit #I have a whole side tangent about the way Zoro treats/acts towards women (ya know the thing that pisses off Sanji constantly) has A LOT to

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slut4hee · 19 hours ago

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Prize Possession

{Paring: Club Owner Jeong Yunho x Blk Stripper Fem! Reader

{Genre: pure dirty smut, strip club au, mafia au, a little angst, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: You’re just a small town girl, who’s never had it easy in life. That’s until you started working at the Sparkle City nightclub, where you meet Jeong Yunho one of the most richest and dangerous mafia bosses in the city.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, unprotected sex, (wrap it, before you tap it), creampie, choking, big dick yunho!!backshots, missionary (with the silver chain hanging yup teehee), fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, breeding dirty talk, pet names, Yunho is nasty nasty, mentions of murders, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed anything bookies<33

—————————————————————————

“FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT” You shouted at your good for nothing ex boyfriend. You had just caught him cheating in your shared bedroom, sleeping around with the bitch he clearly told you not to worry about. You should have seen this coming though, all the late nights in, the constant excuses on why he always smelled like another women’s perfume.

You were so over his all his bullshit, all the lies, and all the sleepless nights you cried yourself to sleep, you were truly done. Tears streamed down your face, as you tugged your heavy luggage down the steps of the apartment complex, but you weren’t crying of a broken heart, it was tears of exhaustion.

You were already so numb to the pain you’ve been through in your life, that something like cheating was so minor to you. The only thing running through your mind is where you would lay your head tonight, you were broke as fuck, only 200 to your name which was not enough to get you by for the remaining of the week.

“Fuck this shit, I can’t believe I let myself go through that shit for so long” You said to yourself, as you set on the curve of the road, laying out your options and contemplating what the hell you were going to do. You could check yourself into a motel for tonight, but that would only get you by for the night, plus that would take all you have.

You pulled out your phone, opening up your contact list and scrolling down, until you stopped at your best friend’s contact name. Your finger hovered over the screen, as you contemplated whether you should call her or not, you genuinely didn’t want to bother her but she was the only person you could call.

You didn’t have your parents, your mom died when you were only thirteen years old, and when that happened your father also lost himself, turning to alcohol and drugs. You finally said fuck it and dialed her number, and after three rings she picked up the call.

“What’s up girl, let me guess that motherfucker ain’t came home yet?” Your best friend Nini asked, you could tell she wasn’t home by the loud music playing in the back, she must be at work.

“Hey Ni girl, I just caught his bitch ass cheating on me, with the bitch from down the street” You sighed, disgusted with yourself to even call that pig your ex boyfriend.

“Noo, are you serious right now, with that hoe Makayla or whatever the fuck her name is” Nini said in disbelief, you shivered as you started to feel your body getting cold by the late night breeze, reminding yourself that you were currently homeless.

“So where are you now love bug?” Nini inquired, you bit your lip nervously, hesitant to tell her that you have no where to go, but Nini would never judge you so you just let her know straight up.

“Bitch I’m on the curve of the road right now, I don’t have nowhere to go Ni” You said, you were genuinely so embarrassed to tell your best friend that, feeling the tears starting to prick at your waterlines.

“Oh my god girl, why are you just hanging out by the side of the road this late at night, are you crazy? I tell you what, I’m gonna get you a ride to my spot and you can crash as long as you want okay?” Nini said, you fought back your tears before thanking her and telling her much you appreciated her, without Nini you don’t know where you would be right now.

Not long after the Uber had picked you up from your shitty little town, and brought you to Nini’s high rise apartment in the city. Nini was a stripper, so she could afford to live like this, you on the other hand was barely making it. Some parts of you thought about becoming a stripper, but you just weren’t that type of girl, no judgement though especially to your best friend. But honest truth, you couldn’t see yourself becoming a stripper.

Oh so you thought….

⋆˚࿔

Nini wasn’t going to be home until later on tonight, she was working a late night shift, so she just gave you the passcode to her apartment and told you to make yourself at home. Her apartment was so spacious and luxurious, you hope one day you could call a place like this your home as well.

You sat your stuff down as you settled in, it was a two bedroom apartment, so you obviously took the guest room. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you haven’t eaten a single thing, since this morning. You thought the least you could do is buy you and your bestie food, so you settled on ordering Chinese takeout.

It was around 2 in the morning when you finally heard the keypad buttons being pressed, indicating Nini was finally home. You were already lounging on the couch, so you greeted her when she came in.

“Hey girl, so good to see you boo, long day at work?” You stood up from the couch, walking over to her and embracing her in a tight hug. She returned your hug with a little snuggle in your neck, sighing exhaustingly.

“Yes girl, we were packed tonight, we have this deal on the weekends, where you can get a free lap dance if you drop a band tip” She said tiredly, spotting the takeout boxes and helping herself to it.

“I’m guessing you had a lot of request huh?” You said cheeky, winking at her playfully. She rolled her eyes at your childishness, stuffing her face like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“Not to bring it up again, but I can’t believe that little ass boy played you like that” She said muffled, the food still being stuffed in her mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, before plopping back down on the couch.

“Yeah girl same, but it’s whatever fuck him, I’m done playing with little boys like him, who claim they’re real men when they’re not. All I’m thinking about is finding another job” You said, you had recently quit your other job, because it just got too stressful for you.

“How about you come work with me at Sparkle City?” Nini said a little hesitantly, she’s brought it up to you before, but of course you shot her down, so of course she expected the same response.

You started to actually think real hard about it, I mean could it really be that bad, I mean your best does it so it couldn’t be that big of a deal.

“I don’t know about that Ni, I mean do I even meet the requirements, plus you know how I feel about putting my body on display” You said, and quickly apologizing after, you didn’t want it to sound like an insult but Nini never took offense she knew you didn’t mean any harm.

“Just think about it baby, you’ll be making hella bank like me, plus with a body like that you’ll for sure make a killing” Your best friend reassured you, she’s always hyping you up, when you start to feel insecure or belittle yourself. But she knew it was caused by trauma, you went through in your past.

“I tell you what, come with me to work tomorrow night, and just check the place out to see if it would be something you’re up for” She said understandably, you nodded before going back to thinking real hard about her offer, you honestly loved the idea of making tons of cash, and being able to take good care of yourself because you fucking deserved it.

⋆˚࿔

The day went by fast and it was time for Nini to go to work, you don’t know why you were so nervous, it’s not like you’ve never been to a strip club before. But you guess, it was because this was possibly going to be your new job now. You and Nini got ready, and headed to Sparkle City, one of the most famous nightclubs in the city.

When you walked inside the club, you were immediately hit with different fumes of smells, some smelling of weed, alcohol, sweat, and different scents of perfumes and colognes. The club was actually really nice, the lights dim with a shade of purple, and the vibes of the place gave off a vintage yet modern style.

“ I have to go get ready, I just got word that one of my regulars are here, aka the one who literally pays all my bills” She stuck her tongue out playfully at you, before disappearing in the back. You on the other hand, you made your way over to the bar, ordering a drink you could barely afford, and taking in the scenery of the place.

As you’re sipping on your drink, you couldn’t help but get the feeling someone’s staring at you. You turned around, to check your surroundings, and that’s when your eyes landed on him. A South Korean gentleman, tall and handsome with an aura that was so intimidating.

His gaze was intense yet, nonchalant as a little smirk was plastered across his face. You tried to look away but it’s like you were paralyzed, you couldn’t move a muscle. That’s when someone finally knocked you out of trance, another handsome gentleman, but not as handsome as Mr tall and mysterious.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself, sitting here all alone by herself for?” The man inquired, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m just enjoying the vibes” You simply said, taking another sip of your drink. You don’t know why, but you found yourself looking back over at the tall gentleman’s direction, his gaze still on you, but this time his smirk was a lot more noticeable almost amusing as he raised an eyebrow at you.

The guy next to you offered to buy you a drink and of course you took the offer, I mean who were you to turn down free drinks. The whole time you kept stealing glances at the tall handsome man, even though he was accompanied by two beautiful women on his lap, his attention was solely focused on you.

Suddenly he whispered something to the two women in their ears, before they got up from his lap and dismissed themselves. His eyes never left yours, in fact it’s like he called you over without exchanging any words or gestures. You just found yourself getting up from your seat, and making your way over to his section, totally ignoring the other guy asking where are you going.

Now that you were up closer, you could finally make out just how fucking sexy he was, his sliver hair, and lips plump and pink. His eyes were so pretty and intriguing, and don’t even get you started on his style, dressed in all black paired with a whole bunch of jewelry, you could tell he was rich.

“What took you so long baby, kept staring at me but kept me waiting so long” His deep voice caused shivers to run down your spine, fuck this man was going to be the death of you already, and you didn’t even fucking know him.

“Correction sir, you were staring at me” You said, trying to sound confident but your voice wavered a bit, he was making you so nervous and imitated. He let out a little chuckle, and fuck was it the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard, you were ready to drop your panties then and there.

“You stared back sweetheart, I guess we’re both guilty” He said softly, smirking at you with that fucking look, god he’s so fine you thought, if it meant he came to this club all the time, then who’s the person you need to see to apply!

“Are you here all alone baby girl?” He suddenly asked, tilting his head to side, as he checked you out from head to toe, waiting for your answer. You bit your lip nervously, before answering his question.

“No, my friend strips here, I’m just tagging along” You simply said, subconsciously scooting closer to him. He noticed, and smiled before scooting himself closer as well, and at this point you’re almost in his lap.

“Who’s your friend? And I haven’t seen you around here before, are you thinking about working here as well?” He inquired, placing his hand on your thigh, just resting it there but to you it was setting you off, heat rushing to your cheeks and core. His hands were so big, you could imagine how they would feel wrapped your ne-

“Hmm?” He hummed, knocking you out of your dirty thoughts.

“Oh um, her name is Nini, and yes I’m thinking about stripping here” You said a little hesitantly, you didn’t really feel too great giving out your best friend’s name, and telling a complete sexy stranger your plans of applying to work here, but it’s like you were under some spell just by the look in his eyes.

“Mmm I see, first time stripper eh?” He said, voice so deep but smooth like butter. You raised your eyebrow at him, how did he know you never stripped before.

“And how would you know I’ve never stripped before, I could be a pro you know” You said matter of fact, he chuckled softly again, shaking his head at your cuteness. Of course he could tell you were a beginner, just be the way you looked so tense.

“I just can tell mama, definitely don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, are you sure you want to step into this lifestyle? It can get pretty dangerous in this territory” He leaned over to you and whispered those words in your ear. You felt a chill run down your spine, both from being turned on by his hot breath on your neck, and the meaning behind his words.

“I’m a big girl I can take it, thank you very much” You replied, trying to sound tough and confident as possible. He just smirked and chuckled at you, before getting up from the velvet couch.

“Then I hope to see your pretty face around here then, I could get used to that you know” He simply said, before sparing you one last look, as he disappeared somewhere in the club. You don’t know why, but his words laid heavy on your conscious, did he know something? Who was he? why did he seem so informed with everything?

The night came to an end, and you ended up putting in an application and getting interviewed by one of the staff members, he was another South Korean gentleman, long black silky hair, and fine fine. He told you that they would get back to you, after your background check comes back clean and that would decide if you get hired or not.

Two days had passed and you finally got a call back saying your background check came back clean, and you were hired. You were happy you got the job, but you were super nervous, you didn’t really know how to work the pole and you didn’t even know how everything’s supposed to work.

Luckily you had Nini, she’s been stripping since she was 19, and she’s definitely a pro. She has a pole in her room, so she allowed you to practice with it, and honestly you’ve always been a fast learner, so you learned the basics pretty quickly.

Friday night came fast, it was officially your first day as a dancer, and you were anxious as fuck. Nini was a good support system though, making sure you were okay, showing you around the locker room and laying down the important rules that applied to the dancers.

“So what color are you going to wear for your first session, red always looks good on you boo” Nini said, as she applied her makeup. You smiled at her, before holding up both the red and the pink to your naked body in the mirror, as you contemplated on what color you should wear.

You decided on red of course, it just brought out your skin tone, pretty smooth brown skin, in red lingerie. You couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable though, the outfit you were wearing was nothing but provocative, a thin little lace thong and a red corset top. You did look so good though, titties sitting up nicely in your top, and your plump ass on full display.

Finally it was your turn to go on stage, and you started to freak out a little. You swallowed your nerves down the best way you could, before making your way to the stage, your six inch heels clicking as you walked. You hoped that they would play a song that you knew, just to make it easier for you to move to the beat.

Luckily for you, they were playing The Party & The After Party by The Weekend, one of your favorite songs and something slow you could work with. As the song played, you got lost in the music, swaying your curvy hips as you rolled your body down the silver pole

You could feel all the attention on you and honestly it felt good, which was a feeling you didn’t expect to feel, money and praise being thrown at you, as you moved your ass left to right. Finally you looked out to the crowd, and that’s when you laid eyes on none other than the gentleman before.

He had the same exact piercing gaze, but this time it was different, his eyes were dark with lust, hunger, and curiosity. You played along as you kept eye contact with him, bending over on the pole, as you wiggled your ass nicely. He shifted in his seat, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and if you weren’t seeing things, he mumbled a curse under his breath.

Your dance came to an end, and your made your way backstage, where Nini and some the other girls complimented you on your first dance.

“Damn girl, if I was a man I’ll definitely be hard as a rock right now” one of the other strippers, Lala said. You giggled at her comment, and thanked her.

“No seriously, you did an amazing job sweets, even Mr Jeong came to watch your first performance” Nini said, you looked at her confused, and she snorted, she totally forgot to run that by you about who the boss is, literally the most important part.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot to tell you about who runs this place, so his name is Jeong Yunho, he’s the owner of Sparkle City, he’s also know as Black Demon. One of the most dangerous and feared men in the city” Nini said with no hesitation, meanwhile you’re about to have a panic attack, what do you mean you’re working for a mafia boss?!

You’ve heard of the name Black Demon, even back in your small city, you remember reading about all the possible murders, that are all supposed to link back to him. That brings you back to the night that gentleman said those words to you, and now you knew just what he meant.

“How does he look, is he some creepy old Italian guy, who walks with a cane” You said seriously, but all the others laughed at your remark.

“No silly, he’s actually pretty young and handsome, but he’s really tall, like tall tall and he’s Korean. Oh, and he has silver hair” Nini said nonchalantly, your eyes widened as you registered her words, the gentleman you met at the club the other night, was the owner of this nightclub and he’s in the fucking mafia.

You quickly pulled Nini to side, whispering shouting at her, about why she didn’t let you know beforehand that you were going to working under a criminal.

“You could have at least told me, what I was getting myself into girl, what if something was to happen here” You said, you weren’t really upset, just a little terrified of the possibility of danger here.

“I didn’t think you would mind, plus what type of people do you think run these types of places, CEOs and government workers?” She said sarcastically, you rolled your eyes at her scoffed.

“No, but maybe just regular people, not deadly killers like him, do you know how many people he’s had killed” you exclaimed a little to loud for Nini’s liking, she quickly grabbed you by the arm, shushing you and taking you somewhere more secluded.

“Fuck Y/n, you can’t just be saying shit like that here, you really gotta watch what comes out of your mouth around here. If that shit gets back to Mr Yunho, both of heads will be on a sliver platter” She said with all seriousness, no hint of playfulness in her tone. You felt an eerie chill run down your spine, as you nodded in agreement.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, you had two dances the whole night, and just from those two performances alone you made $500 In total, that would have took you two weeks to make at a regular 9-5, but with stripping you made it in just a day.

You could definitely get used to this lifestyle, continuous money showers raining down on you, all from that shaking a little ass, and popping a titty? It was simply so easy. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t on edge the whole time though, the new found information you got from Nini, was all starting to make sense.

You actually took time, to really look around the place, and it was all so obvious. Men dressed in all black suits, with guns on their hips, and the rule of not being all to enter the boss’s office without permission. You could also tell drug deals goes on here, a bunch of corporate executives and CEO’s, disappearing into the secret room, only to come out looking high out their minds.

Finally your long shift ended, and your feet were killing you, you don’t how these girls around here lasted everyday wearing these tall ass heels. You gave the club their percentage, and took the rest for yourself. You threw back on your regular clothes, and waited for Nini, to get finished with her private session, she was one of the popular dancers, so she had a lot of rich ass regulars that always came and spent hella money for a private lap dance.

You decide to reward yourself with a nice little drink, the fruity alcoholic beverage hitting the spot after a long day of standing on your feet. As you’re enjoying your drink, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder, and that’s when you turned around and you were faced with the same man who interviewed for the job.

“Miss Y/n, the boss has requested your presence to his office” The man simply said, his stone cold expression giving you chills, your heart started to beat out of your chest, why did Mr Jeong want to see you? Were you in trouble? Are you going to die? Did someone overhear you and Nini’s conversation from earlier.

All those thoughts started to run through your head at once, as you nervously nodded your head, and stood from your seat following him into the back of the club. Your palms were so sweaty, and your legs wobbled slightly as you walked, were you about to die? He led you down a long vintage looking hallway, stopping two tall double doors.

“You may enter, boss is waiting for you inside” The man said, before turning away from you, and standing by the door like a statute. You assumed he was one of Yunho’s men. Your hands were shaky, as you hesitated to push the doors open, you didn’t know what you were about to face and it scared the living hell out of you.

Finally you pushd the doors open, and you were hit with a faint smell of an incense burning, his office was more like a lounge, vintage furnished and expensive chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. There was even a pole in the middle of the room, and not to mention, the big liquor cabinet, with tons of expensive glasses and brown liquor.

You made your way around the corner, and there he was, lounging on the couch as held one of the expensive looking glasses in his hand, half full of some type of brown liquor. He was clad in a black button down shirt, with some of buttons opened to see his chest, and black slacks that showed the outline of his skinny waist.

“Y-you wanted to see me sir?” You stuttered, barely managing to get your words out. He grinned softly, as he twirled the brown sustenance around in his cup.

“Would you like to have a drink with me” He said softly, gesturing you towards the spot next to him on the couch. You managed to walk over and take a seat next to him, your legs felt stiff, like they were going to give out on you any minute.

He grabbed you a glass off the table and poured bourbon whiskey inside of it. You’ve never had whiskey before, it was way too expensive to buy, but he had a whole case full of it.

“I hope you don’t mind taking whiskey, it’s the only thing I drink” He said, staring deep into your eyes as he handed you the drink.

“I’ve never had whiskey before, but all about trying new things” You said before, holding the glass up to your nose and smelling it. The scent was strong, and you could tell it was going to burn your throat, but being a pussy was not in your nature. Yunho watched you carefully the whole time, watching as you down the shot of whiskey.

And just how you imagined, the brown liquor burned the hell out of your throat, your eyes watering like hell. Yunho smirked at you in amusement, you were an intriguing little thing, taking a whiskey neat shot like a champ, he was so turned on by you.

You cleared your throat before breaking the silence, the room was starting to grow hot, the tension in the room was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“I didn’t know you owned this club” You said carefully, trying not to make full eye contact with him, his presence was so dangerous for you, his aura was addicting and you were eating it all up. You’ve never felt so weak for a man, like you do for Yunho, he makes you want to submit to him, makes you want to serve him like he’s your master.

“You seemed like a smart girl, thought you would’ve been able to read between lines bunny” He said, voice husky and slightly raspy from drinking the whiskey, you fought to keep your composure, your things starting to rub together at the nicknames he was giving you.

You swallowed your hard, not trusting your own voice to say another word, you just looked around timidly, waiting to see what his motive was. And that’s when he said that…

“Dance for me” He suddenly said, staring at you with an unreadable expression, your eyes widened as you stared back at him in shock. Did he really just ask you to dance for him?

“Y-you want me to dance for you?” You repeated, starting to squirm nervously in your seat. He simply nodded, biting his bottom lip, as he laid his back against the couch, relaxing his shoulders. You sat there in silence at first, trying to process everything at once, it’s not like you could tell him no, Could you tell him no? You thought to yourself as you pondered and pondered.

“I want you to repeat the same dance you did earlier, but this time can we make it a little bit more interesting shall we?” He smirked, taking another shot of whiskey, you could tell he was tipsy by the way his pupils were now blown out and glassy.

“Make it interesting how?” You inquired, anxiously fiddling with your fingers. He grabbed a small black remote, dimming the lights of the room changing it to the same shade of red like you had for your stage dance.

“Do it naked, just for me” He replied, you almost choked on your own spit, he wants you to dance naked for him, is he out of his mind?!

“I don’t think that’s appropriate sir, I can’t” You said, yes he was fine and yes he was a mafia leader, but you still had respect for yourself, or so you thought…

“You know baby, I don’t usually take to the dancers that work at my club, but you baby, you been driving me insane since I first laid eyes on you” He said, you do remember Nini telling you that Yunho never slept or interacted sexually with any of them, of course there were plenty of the girls who threw themselves at him, but he always turned them down.

“You’re telling me I’m special huh” You said, starting to feel less nervous and anxious because of his intriguing words.

“Yes, indeed you are baby girl, now be a good girl and get up there and dance for me” He smirked, as he poured himself another drink, waiting patiently for you to follow his orders. You got up from the couch, and made your way over to the pole. Yunho stared shamelessly at your ass, as it jiggled when you walked.

He pressed play on the music, and the beat of the song came through the speakers of the lounge. You started to slowly strip out of your clothes, luckily your regular clothes consisted of a pair of booty shorts and a lace crop top. You turned around and bent over, your ass facing him as you slowly eased out of your thong.

Yunho let out a quiet groan, shifting around in his seat, as he adjusted his legs. You could tell the effect you had on him, boy were you letting it go over your head, you swayed and rolled your body just like you did on stage, Yunho was watching so intently, taking another sip from his drink, as he enjoyed your dirty dancing.

You swirled around the pole, doing the tricks that Nini taught you, and then you hopped off the pole and made your way over to him. You stood right in front of him, as you shake your ass and danced provocatively. He spread his legs, and you took the hint now giving him a lap dance as you grind and twerk your ass in his lap.

You could feel how hard he was, cock straining painful through his slacks, begging for some sort of relief. As much as you loved and respected him for just watching and enjoying without touching, you wanted him to touch you, to feel his big strong hands on your body.

“Mmm touch me baby” You said, your pussy now leaking onto his slacks, you were so turned on from this, and so was he. He bit his lip harshly, before going to rub on your ass and waist, you were such a sinful sight.

“God fucking damnit, you’re making it difficult to resist you right now baby” He groaned, squeezing your asscheeks and spreading them apart to look at your wet glistening folds. You moaned softly, as he spread your pussy lips apart, to see how tight and small your hole is.

“Then don’t resist sir, take me please” You begged shamelessly, Yunho could feel his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers, it was not like him to fuck one of his dancers, but you weren’t just a dancer to him, you were the women he’s been searching for all along, he was so weak in the knees for you.

“Do you know what you’re asking for bunny, and who you are dealing with?” He hissed in pleasure, you full on dry humping him now, the friction from his clothed cock, turning you on to the max.

“I don’t care how dangerous you are, I don’t care that you are bad for me, I just w-wan you now” You whined, feeling yourself getting shamelessly close to your high, you were about to get off by dry humping him, it felt too fucking good to stop now. He halted your movements, and you let out a desperate whine, you thought he was rejecting you until he suddenly manhandled you into the couch.

“Fuck I can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist such a pretty little fucking slut like you darling, such a nasty little thing, about to make a mess all over my pants with that wet pussy” He groaned, spreading your asscheeks, before spitting directly on your pussy, and licking a strip of your pussy.

Your back arched, as you gripped the edges of the couch, the feeling of his wet long tongue was like no other, it’s been so long since you’ve had your pussy eaten, and Yunho just happened to be a fucking pro at it!

“Oh fuck, oh fuck please right there” You moaned shamelessly, he sucked and licked on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whole body was trembling with pleasure, as you looked back at see his face buried beneath your asscheeks.

“Fuck mama, pussy taste so damn good, shit could eat your up all night” He said muffled, now tongue fucking your tight little hole, like it was his cock. You let out a pathetic scream, the band in your stomach threatening to snap any minute now, you couldn’t believe how fast he was about to make you come undone on his face.

“You gonna come on my face pretty thing, that’s right make a fucking mess on daddy’s face” He growled, sliding one of his digits inside your tight cunt. Your pussy clenched violently around his finger, you could feel this hot tingling feeling in your lower abdomen, you’ve never felt this feeling before and you knew you were about to cum so hard.

“Daddy! Oh my god I’m cumming” You whined loudly, the knot in your stomach finally coming unraveled, as you squirted your essence all over his face. Your legs were trembling, you were panting like crazy, and you felt so embarrassed squirting all over his face like that.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was going to squirt” you said weakly, you were already so fucked out, but you guys were far from being done, you needed his big cock inside your greedy pussy.

“No don’t apologize for being a good girl for daddy, that was so fucking hot” He groaned, standing up from his knees, as he started to unbuckle his pants, dropping down to his ankles. The outline of his cock in his boxers was huge, you were definitely intimidated by his size but also so fucking turned on by it.

“Gonna let me fuck this tight pussy raw baby?” He grunted, freeing himself of out of the confines of his boxers, as his dick spring free, the top flushed red and leaking precum. You looked back at him and nodded eagerly, wiggling your ass to entice him. He groaned loudly, before rubbing his tip against your wet folds.

“Baby p-please, stick it in, need your cock so badly” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to feel his thick cock, rearranging your guts. He smacked your asscheek, and you yelped at the sting of it. Finally after what seemed like eternity, you felt his mushroom tip nudging your tight hole, your little pussy struggling to accommodate his massive size.

“Oh shit! Oh my god wait, too fucking big” You whined, pushing back at his stomach for him to give you a minute. He chuckled softly in amusement, landing a harsh smack to your asscheek, as he rubbed soothing circles on the same spot.

“You can take it bunny, remember your words, you’re big girl you can take it” He cooed, pushed your face into the couch, as he started to push his length inside your fluttering walls. The stretch was intense, it felt you were being split in half, if it wasn’t for how wet your pussy was, it would have been impossible to fit.

After a couple more pushes he was fully nestled inside you, standing still to let you adjust to his size, and you could feel his throbbing cock pulsating. He let out a deep groan, trying to hold himself back, from fucking into you roughly.

“Fuuuckk, this pussy so tight and warm, shit tell me when to move baby girl” He hissed, as your pussy clenched snugly around his length. Eventually the pain started to turn into pleasure, and you were ready for him to ruin you.

“You can move now daddy” You moaned, pushing your ass against his pelvis, wanting to feel him as deep as possible. He pulled almost out of your wet pussy, until he slammed back in, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“Hnmphhhh, Ohh my god Yunho, your cock so fucking good” You moaned loudly, gripping onto the couch for dear life, as he starts to fuck into you. Yunho eyes rolled to back of his head, your pussy felt incredible around his cock, all tight and warm.

“Look at you, such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a good little whore” He growled, setting a brutal pace, as he starts to beat your pussy in. The sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the room, and you’re pretty sure his bodyguard could hear you getting your guts rearranged.

“Yes daddy, I’m your good little whore” You screamed out, as Yunho pulled you by the hair, forcing your body to lay flushed to his chest, as he pounds relentlessly into your weeping cunt.

“That’s right all fucking mines, nobody can fucking have you, you belong to me now understood?” He spat, as he manhandled your body to a different position, somehow not sliding out of you. You were now laying on your back, face to face with him, ad he hovered on top of you.

He barely gave you time to breathe, as starting to pound into you again. Your eye rolled to back of your head, and you screamed In silence, he was fucking the shit out of you, all you could do was lay there and take it like the good whore you are.

“Yunho! S-slow down, I’m going to cum again fuck” You whined, that same tingling feeling returning, as you neared your high for the 2nd time tonight. The sight of Yunho tall frame above your small one, rocking his hips back and forth, as his silver diamond chain dangled over your face.

“Fuck baby I’m not gonna last any longer, I wanna breed this pussy, stuff you full of my babies and ruin you for anyone who tried to take what’s mines” He said, you could barely hear what he was saying, your mind was in another dimension as he fucked you into an oblivion.

Like clockwork, he hit your pressure point, that spot inside you that makes everything feel fuzzy. Your legs were shaking violently, as he slammed into your g-spot over and over, and finally you felt the band snap in your stomach snap. You came hard around his dick, squirting and creaming like crazy.

He followed shorty after, letting out a guttural groan, as he emptied out his once full balls inside your spent cunt. His big body collapsed on the side of you, the both of you panting heavily, and trying to catch each other’s breath.

You could feel his cum oozing out of your abused hole, the feeling was so uncomfortable in the worst way. He got up from the couch, disappearing into the bathroom, and coming out with a box of tissues. You laid there weak, as you watched him wipe the remnants of his cum, that oozed out on your thighs and legs.

Your heart skipped a beat at that, normally you never received aftercare, not even your ex boyfriend took the time to do this for you. You couldn’t believe a stone cold killer like Yunho, was being sweet to you like this, you were whipped.

Finally he broke the silence, grabbed you by your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“I hope you didn’t think I was playing with you baby, you really belong to me now “ He said seriously, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You smiled like an idiot, snuggling your face into his neck.

“Good because I’m not going anywhere, I’m yours” You simply said, pecking him on his cheek, he locked eyes with you, and this time it wasn’t that unreadable stone cold expression. It was replaced with something more softer, love and warmth.

You knew what you were getting yourself into falling for a man like Jeong Yunho, but you didn’t care, you were in love with a criminal with no shame.

“𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨” 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝.

“𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐭” 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝.

The End…

A/n: Someone pass me a cigarette real quick 🚬 😩 this is so toe curling, pussy popping good!!! I been wanting to release a fic about Yunho for so long and I finally did it😛 we cheered! Ladies and gentlemen I’m afraid this is a nasty one be prepared to change your sheets🫦 not proofreading shii🫶🏽

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk

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