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witchywcmans · 5 months ago

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AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car.

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked.

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand.

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller.

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him.

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose.

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this.

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

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mo-ondrcps · 5 months ago

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♖ ˗ˏˋ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 ´ˎ˗

❛ how fate cruelly plays with your hearts while a stranger desperately try to save you in each dream you had, over and over again.❜

: ̗̀➛ dragon! jiyan x town folk! reader warning(s): reader drowning twice, mentions of death (no major!). content: fem! reader, magical town vibes like magic humans and mythical creatures, jiyan dragon protective of you genre: au — magical town, fantasy, reincarnation, soulmates, romance, slight angst word count: 2.4K author's note: i love protective jiyan, makes anyone feel safe in his arms.

Water surrounded you, making it impossible to breathe. You couldn't decipher whether you're dead or drowning in the ocean, though a bystander would think you're suffering from both because of your lack of struggle, slowly descending deeper. The light from the waters above your clouded vision continued to fade until a figure above dove in, swimming towards your direction. Unfortunately, his face was only just a silhouette, attempting to reach for your hand and resurface to save you. You wanted to move forward, take the stranger's hand in yours, but an unknown force within you had no strength to do so.

"(Y/n)...!"

Your name, or what sounds like your name, came out in thick gurgles of water from the stranger. They still persisted in swimming with much of their might to save you. Who is this person? If they continued to sink in deeper with you, there would be no hope for either of you to live. How foolish. Your eyes slowly gave in to the darkness surrounding them before opening once more.

Your eyes take in the surroundings of your room, all dimly lit by the moon that glanced from the open peak of your window curtains. Your head turned in search of your wall clock.

2:37 am.

A sigh left your lips, burying yourself further into the warm blankets for comfort. It was the same dream that haunted you for years, the ocean and you sinking into your demised. However, the small moment didn't strike fear in you, at least you hoped not yet. You haven't visited the beach for over ten years now and you always found yourself sticking by the sand whenever your family asks you to come with them.

You rise up from your spot on your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water before returning to your room. They were both calm, your water and the ocean from your dreams, moving on their own except for the other being more dangerous if you sink in too deep.

But that man, who was he?

You thought of leaving it aside, knowing your work starts early in the morning, taking a sip of your water before resting back on the comforts of your mattress.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

"But you never saw his face? That's a shame... You should've seen it if he was cute or not."

Your eyes narrowed at your friend after telling them the entire story of your dreams again. They always knew what kind of stress you're dealing with, but never knew the answer to how to solve it. At first, they informed you to brush it off as a simple vision your mind had randomly come up with until it grew too frequent for them to ignore.

"You really had to focus on that detail?? I can't just fall for every random stranger in my dreams."

A boisterous laugh came from the mouth of your friend before shaking their head at your deadpan expression.

"At least they treat us better than the men in this reality. Who knows? With how frequent you meet yours, he might actually appear right through that door!"

Now a smile erupted your features before bursting into a laugh at how silly they were acting with you. Though absurd, you still appreciate their sense of optimism in your dream related problems. A small chime came from the door, signaling a customer walked into the shop. Your friend gave you a small nod, which you returned before watching them move to entertain them. You, on the other hand, busied yourself in writing a list of the potions you both need to make and what's available to write down and display on the racks.

"Excuse me?"

A voice deep yet soothing to your ear came in front of you, making you look up to them.

"Hello, what can I get for you?"

The man was dressed in simple black and midnight green robes embroidered by silk and gold accents, making him stand out only just a bit but not too much to get everyone's attention. It was clear he looked like a soldier or a protector of some kind because of the sword strapped around his waist.

You thought you would have recognized him because of this small town, but then again, he might be a wandering traveler from afar so you can't assume too quickly.

"Do you have any good potions for healing? I seem to run out myself on the way here."

The man replied with a slight scratch on his nape. You nod before smiling, taking out a regular sized bottle. It's mixture flowing through green and hues of blue gradient inside, shimmering in utter brilliance.

"That will be fifty gold for a healing potion."

He reached out from his pocket, pulling a small pouch where he fumbled to grab the amount needed. The man set down sixty-five gold instead of fifty, leaving you surprised at the change. You took the extra, your hands moving to give it back.

"I can't accept this much."

"Please, this shop deserves much recognition for the work you and your companion put through for everyone who needs it. Keep my change."

Before you could push more to give the extra back, the man bows slightly before leaving the shop. Your friend, who just came back, glanced at the man you just entertained before turning to you with a playful smile you knew you wouldn't enjoy.

"Who was that? He looks so good! I've never seen him before. Do you think he's-."

Just when your friend was about to ask you for more information about the customer you entertained, you stopped her train of thoughts, speaking ahead of them before it goes in a direction you'll never get back from.

"And don't you think it's your turn to brew new potions to stock while I grab some herbs we need outside? The strength and healing potions won't produce themselves."

Your friend groaned.

"Let me dream a little. My single life won't move by itself either!"

Throwing your quill pen at them, you caused them to move aside but still took the blow from the quill thrown at them, laughing at your advancements before heading into the staff room to do their work while you prepared your journey in the forest for herbs. You pack containers, water, and a bit of snacks to aid your short travel. You bid goodbye to your friend, starting your walk into the forest.

You had a list written by you with a few additions to your friend. You crouched down to pick up yellow and purple flowers, one that radiated like the sun and the other mirroring the deepest night sky of the auras. Since you were here, it shouldn't hurt to grab them for a potion of good sleep. Not that you never tried it before and have it mix with your cup of tea. Your friend suggested this once after experiencing four nights of the same dream in your sleep, but it never worked.

You move to the next item on your list, which is dewberries, picking at least three before turning your head to the bushes rustling nearby. Your eyes scanned the area before resuming your work of collecting three more until a large hand grabs your mouth, pulling you back towards their body.

"Such luck of running into a lady."

A skinny man walked into the scene, next to his companion, who took you by surprise. He spoke before smirking. The items from your bag scrambled down after being forcefully pulled away. The man who held you back took one of them, shaking the containers of herbs inside before turning his head back towards you.

"A smart one who can provide and heal too! How much do you think we can make out of her if we sold her to the palace?"

The skinny man only laughed before ordering his companion.

"Stuff her in the bag. I know we'll make a fortune in that case."

You struggle in the gruff man's hold who was opting to lift you up while his friend took the large sack they had slung behind his back. Your legs kicked and swung around, managing to injure the skinny man on the groin out of pure luck. But you knew you needed more than that.

"Feisty as well! You'll pay for all the damages you'll do to me and my companion. Now stay still or-."

A powerful surge of wind ripped through the scene, causing all of you to shut your eyes while your captors try to stay in place on the grass below, gripping onto the strands before getting blown away a few steps.

"You!"

The voice of a man came, commanding and stern, but there was no man. Only the figure of a large, bright green, slender dragon came in sight. He was exactly like what the stories you kept hearing as a child.

The Midnight Dragon.

Its nostrils flared in anger, watching the two men as if they were its prey. The men who held captive of you had their hands tremble beneath their fingertips, eyes staring wide at the force of nature they just angered without moving another muscle.

"Begone or I will banish you myself."

The men cowered in fear, flinging your body to a shallow lake before leaving in a hurry into the direction of the city. The dragon quickly shifts into a human man, running to the lake before diving in to save you.

Your arms flailed around to resurface from the water. You weren't sure if you should feel even more terrified now that reality is making you sink deep into the waters just like in your dreams. No, nightmares. If only you agreed with your friend to teach you a bit of swimming, but you were too stubborn, confident enough that drowning would never cross in a moment of your life.

Right now, you were afraid.

Maybe it was a warning that you stupidly ignored and now you've fallen deep to your demise. You allowed your eyes to shut, accepting the darkness with the faint figure of the man reaching for your hand.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

Jiyan thought he could never save you, blaming himself for how slow he was in every haunting nightmare that plagued his thoughts. As if his previous life wasn't enough to make him feel guilty about how much pain you've pulled through and now in this timeline? How much more does he need to suffer?

He swam deeper, faster, just to grab a hold of your hand before pulling you up with him to the surface. Jiyan carried your body to a nearby tree, setting you down next to it before leaning his head to your chest and mouth to check for your vitals. For the love of the gods, please don't let him see you dead again.

Using the heel of heel of his dominant hand and the other hand resting on it above your breastbone, he began to push, watching a couple of water droplets leave your mouth. Jiyan counted quietly in inaudible whispers, begging for your revival until slowly a cough came from your lips, causing him to step away a bit to give you some space.

"(Y/n)?"

"W-who- I-."

You shut your eyes, rubbing away the water residuals that dropped from your hair, regaining consciousness from the events prior.

"What... what did you just say?"

Jiyan's eyes widen but you didn't catch his surprise, only a clear of his throat before carrying you in his arms again as if you were lightweight. A feather, if he might add, but he'll tease you later. He valued your safety the most, so he took you back home while you had a million questions running in your head, especially how he knew where you lived.

"Stalker much?"

You uttered above a whisper, making Jiyan shake his head quickly before you act on him.

"I-... You wouldn't believe me if I told you this."

"I'm all ears... Midnight Dragon."

You didn't know how else to call him besides what the stories and myths had told you. It made Jiyan's heart sink, trying to accept the fact that you will never remember him. Maybe in this life you wouldn't, but it didn't stop him from being your sole protector wherever you go. Why did it have to be him to be cursed to remember everything while you were reborn to forget?

Jiyan was silent through the entire journey, slipping into the crack of your window with you in his arms, which you forgot to close before leaving. He set you down on the comforts of your mattress before finally answering.

"I've been protecting you endlessly in our previous life and now... Believe it or not."

Jiyan confessed. It made you confused.

"Previous life? I never remembered anything or been aware of... living longer like you do."

If it has been that way, maybe you should've had some majestic powers to make you live longer like him. Your thoughts only made Jiyan chuckle softly before ruffling your damp hair, mind racing at what you both could've possibly been, but you had no memory at all whatsoever.

"You may not remember anything about me. But I'll make sure you'll always feel safe and maybe... feel loved by me again in this timeline..."

Jiyan took your hand, kissing your palm gently. It felt as if a gentle breeze flowed against your skin, gracing you with the dragon's passion and attention. Everything felt like a dream, to actually see the dragon in person who has concealed its identity until years later. Did it have anything to do with your existence? It made you wonder. Most especially with the mystery laced in his words about you and him.

"If heaven ever gives us the chance to meet again, I'll always keep loving you at that time and the next."

His words held a promise that strangely made your heart accept him entirely. Jiyan smiled, rising from his feet, making you scramble from your seat on the bed.

"Wait."

He paused, eyebrows raised in question.

"What's your name?"

"Jiyan."

He blew a soft breeze in front of your face, effectively hitting your eyes before watching you fall back asleep on your bed. It made Jiyan smile, admiring how peaceful you look, waving his arm above your figure to use his own magic, drying your clothes to avoid you from waking up with a cold. He pulled the covers over your body, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. Jiyan shut the windows behind him, taking a mental note to remind you about it before disappearing into the night.

For the first time in your life, you finally got over your nightmares of drowning. Your dreams only painted the image of green and blue hues of a dragon before shifting to the figure of Jiyan, planning on your next meeting with him again.

author's note: took a bit of inspiration from the potions event of genshin. i was trying to find a good occupation for reader in a magical town and thought of that!

#☾ ❛ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. → ⌜ writing. ⌟#wuthering waves #wuwa #jiyan #jiyan imagine #jiyan x reader #fantasy #reincarnation #wuthering waves x reader #romance #jiyan dragon #soulmates

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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago

Text

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

#karasu x reader #karasu x y/n #karasu x you #karasu tabito #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #best friend’s brother au #best friend’s brother fic #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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crystallizsch · 6 months ago

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thinking about jamil traveling alone for the first time but for some reason you’re still constantly on his mind

(i’ve been thinking about this and i just needed to get this out of my system and omg this was just supposed to be shorter but it ended up wayyy longer than intended)

(this is also an attempt at another x reader and it was proofread only by myself. some things might read awkward so go easy on me, i barely write 😔😔😔)

(kind of like a future au??? and can be read as romantic/(queer)platonic??)

Jamil had been planning this trip for months.

He had always wanted to travel to a new place by himself where he didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone else. Just himself and his own enjoyment.

Jamil planned on maximizing this whole trip. Reading everything about the place and making sure to see all the things that he would want to see while he was there.

However, you made sure to let him know that he should let himself loose and enjoy his trip naturally. It was supposed to be a fun, stress-free trip after all. Planning it out entirely defeats the purpose of that.

He needed to embrace a little bit of unexpectedness. You said it was “all part of the fun”. If he knew everything there was to expect, what would be the point in visiting?

Jamil saw what you were saying and admitted defeat. He gave you the benefit of the doubt and decided to have flexible and “loose” plans, as you suggested.

Meanwhile, Kalim had already thrown a whole “goodbye” party for him. Thank goodness that Kalim had gradually learned over the years to be more aware of Jamil’s wishes. They simply compromised on a small and humble party (even though Jamil would have preferred not to have one in the first place).

You came with Jamil to drop him off at the station where he was heading. You both exchanged your usual banter, and you wished him safe travels and for him to have fun especially.

You thought you imagined it, but before he was about to leave, he looked like he was about to say something else. And he definitely was about to. You'd never know what it was though.

Instead, Jamil simply bid you farewell.

As Jamil was walking away, you playfully shouted after him to not forget about you. It was only a joke (for the most part).

Jamil didn’t look back, but you know he rolled his eyes in exasperation. And he certainly did, which was followed by a soft smile on his face that you wouldn't get to see.

━━━━━━✦

Once he reached his destination, Jamil took in the new sights. He breathed in fresh air, his chest feeling lighter and more relaxed.

It felt wonderful that, in this place, he was just another face in the crowd. Nobody knows him. And he knows nobody. Everything was new and unfamiliar and he reveled in that feeling. You were right, it was better to experience these things firsthand as being there felt like a fresh start. Even though he knew that this anonymity would only be temporary.

One of the first things Jamil made sure was to keep his phone out of the equation. He needed to experience everything naturally without having the need to document what he saw as well as the stress of other people contacting him.

Jamil might have partially failed on the latter. He had to have his phone open for emergencies for certain people. Unfortunately, some worries and responsibilities can’t really fully leave him.

━━━━━━✦

Jamil first visited an antique clothing store. It was a charming and unique place filled with different kinds of wear, displays of jewelry and trinkets, and of course, the touristy souvenirs. Those were noticeably out of place, but it was to be expected.

Having experience and knowledge about his own job of being aware of what is around Scalding Sands, Jamil was delighted to know that the majority of the products in this store, at least, seemed to be of genuine quality.

Jamil may have to come back to this place. He thought you would really like that little trinket he saw through the window.

As Jamil strolled through, he was surrounded by a vibrant mix of sounds and colors adorning the streets. Individuals, families, tourists, and locals bustled about. There were even street entertainers as well as vendors who tried to sell him their wares, which was always amusing to say the least.

A catchy melody caught Jamil's attention, and he spotted a breakdancer performing on the street. He thought to himself that he might try out the routine for fun, and he'd ask what you would think. You'd enjoy the performance too, wouldn't you?

Jamil was exploring when he unexpectedly stumbled upon some festivities. It appeared to be the festival he had read about that he hadn't planned on participating in until later. Since he stumbled upon it now, he figured he might as well just check it out.

As Jamil looked around, he noticed a dance circle filled with people of all ages. Friends, families, and couples were all dancing together. He felt compelled to join in. It was as if the lively music and the enchanting atmosphere were inviting him personally, and he found himself dancing amongst the people.

The band played with much fervor, and the people were equally as energetic. Jamil was having fun. He caught himself laughing despite himself, his body swaying to the beat and in sync with the other dancers.

No one was here to judge him. No one to evaluate his front, or tell him to keep up an image. Jamil could easily just be himself. And after everything, he could easily choose to fade back into the background.

As soon as the energy died down for him, he looked back at the crowd. It still held the same energy when he went in, but he was personally spent.

Jamil wondered. If you were there, he might have enjoyed it more with you. That thought slipped through his mind, and immediately went away as it came.

The following days were a bit more mellow but still enriching. Jamil wanted to build up to an exciting finish but it seemed like the enjoyment peaked within the first few days.

The cuisine being served there was particularly fascinating. Jamil entered a restaurant, the aroma of delicious food enticing him in. He ordered dishes at a surprisingly decent price for the amazing quality they were being served. Seeing the way the dishes looked reminded him of how he had been getting better at making his own dishes more presentable. It still wasn't perfect; he could still learn more. He could actually take some inspiration from these dishes.

Jamil planned on researching more of the local cuisine once he returned. Then, he could try some rendition of his own and see what you think, as well as hoping that he could do these dishes justice.

━━━━━━✦

This isn't good.

Jamil felt... lonely?

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. What happened to enjoying this trip by himself?

Against everything Jamil told himself not to, he opened his phone and checked his messages, the majority of which were from people who inquired about his trip. This simply soured his mood. If Jamil had his phone ringing for them, he wouldn't have had a break. Why did he even open up his phone for this?

Oh, he knew why.

Your name specifically caught his eye with a preview of your message. He decided to open it up and he saw texts from you telling him to be safe and to have fun, which were basically the same things that you both exchanged when he left.

In the most recent text, you jokingly asked for him to send pictures, fully expecting that he wouldn’t. Admittedly, you were wondering what he was up to. You had really wanted to come with him but knew he really needed his trip for himself.

You felt a bit selfish sending that text because you knew Jamil shouldn't really be worrying about updating you or anyone else about what he was up to.

You didn't know that as soon as Jamil read that message, he briefly considered humoring you. He thought that perhaps he could take only a few photos here and there just to satisfy you. And then explain what else he had seen and experienced so far.

Jamil started to draft a message to send to you. He’s sure that you’d enjoy hearing all about it, plus it’ll be nice to have someone to share this experience with—

He paused at the thought. He saw that typed all he wanted to share at the moment, his finger hovering over the send button.

Wait a minute. No, no. What was he doing? Jamil quickly erased everything he typed out and shoved his phone back in his bag.

This experience was for him and himself only, at least for now. You’ll just have to wait once he returns from his trip.

━━━━━━✦

If Jamil was to be honest with himself, he had actually initially planned this whole trip with you in mind.

Throughout those months of planning, there was never a moment when he wasn't going back and forth with himself whether or not to include you in the trip.

You didn't know about this, of course. If he did manage to plan this whole trip with both of you, it would have been a surprise leading up to it.

But you yourself drilled into him how wonderful it was that he was finally able to go on a trip by himself. This was his very first opportunity to travel by himself and he doesn't know how long he will have that opportunity again. Perhaps it was your sentiments that finally convinced him that this trip was supposed to be for himself alone.

But deep in his heart, Jamil still felt something missing. He felt some kind of regret and longing that now he could not shake off.

As Jamil brooded to himself, he found himself standing in front of the antique store again. Once again, Jamil caught a glimpse of the trinket he had been eyeing the very first day he had been there.

━━━━━━✦

When you told him to not forget about you, you didn’t mean for him to take it so literally.

Jamil shrugged at the call-out, attempting to look unbothered. He had souvenirs for his family too, so it wasn’t like you were the only person he had on his mind.

But you just know he was embarrassed knowing that most of the souvenirs were meant for you. It was funny but really sweet. You assured him that you’d just return the favor next time.

Jamil really didn’t need you to, but perhaps it’ll also be payback enough for you occupying his mind while he was supposed to be away focusing on himself.

Maybe next time it'll be easier if Jamil would just bring you along.

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kaylatoonz · 23 days ago

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I apologize in advance for the person I become when the next few sonic movie 3 trailer come out rather Amy excluded from the film or if some miracle she is in it.

I'm seriously considering taking a break from sonic after this years maybe move toward my other hyperfixations like trolls… maybe.

The constant hate and the need to “fix” a character that ain't broken is getting on my nerves. If it was just the majority or minority of the fandom I can probably get over it, but the writers/sega too!

I have experienced, hate and misinformation being spread about other series and characters I’ve liked but I never experience the amount of bull that is the sonic franchise/community when it comes to Amy Rose.

It tiring and disheartening to see Amy fans and sonamy fan get kicked down at their lowest or at their highest. Everytime I think things are finally getting back on the right track with Amy’s characterization they take another several steps backwards.

So here what I’m going to do for now.

I’m gonna try to finish the character sheets for movie Amy and metal AU and give a synopsis on what it’s about. (still might be a while since I’m working on other stuff).

The comic involving the AU will be on hiatus until I find motivation to do it again😓.

If I feel up to it after I’m done with the character sheets, I’ll continue drawing the other movie Amy au ideas.

As for the fanfic… hiatus for now, unfortunately. It’s just a one-shot but it's like pulling teeth to write this thing🥲. And the added fact that I am losing motivation for creating sonic content is making it harder.

Lastly, I’ll try to take a break from Twitter and maybe mute or block anything involving ” Amy is better off with her “obsession” with sonic Being removed because it was her only character trait now she can be a “good”character”😑(maybe on Tumblr too).

At this point, I’m gonna just skip shadow generations for now too. Most of the leaks made me more and more disinterested in the DLC. In a recent leak I heard that they might’ve removed any mention that Amy had involvement with shadow turning a new leaf.😤

Unless something really interesting happens in the shadow story I don’t think I want to see anything.

#sonic movie 3 #movie amy rose #amy rose #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #miles tails prower #movie sonamy

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megamindsupremacy · 2 months ago

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Relativity Falls AU Outline [Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3] [Part 4]

-Dipper and Pacifica hire some contractors and they start building an interdimensional portal in Dipper's basement. Dipper is currently living in an abandoned hunting lodge that he broke into and decided was his now. Since nobody has contested this so far, it is more or less actually his now.

-Building the portal is 90% Bill telling Dipper what to do, Dipper trying to write all of his notes down in a panic, and then trying to transcribe these notes into something for the contractors to build an actual portal out of. (Everyone say "thank you Head Construction Manager Wendy, The Actual Only Reason This Thing Is Coming Along As Well As It Is)

-Or don't, all things considered.

-I just think it's endlessly funny that Dipper (JOURNALISM MAJOR) now has to build an interdimensional portal in his basement. Bill chose correctly in the sense of "someone desperate for validation and gullible enough to follow Bill's instructions" but didn't luck out with "has the technical know-how to actually make the damn thing"

-Dipper takes all of his notes in some journals Mabel recently sent him. She decorated them all like their old scrapbooks, and told him to "Write something cool in them!" Dipper figures, hey, supernatural mysteries and instructions for an interdimensional portal are pretty cool.

-They all have a Big Dipper symbol on the front cover. The pine tree symbol in the zodiac is similarly replaced with a Big Dipper constellation.

----

-The portal's construction takes over a year. In this time, Dipper and Pacifica grow a lot closer. They go from nemeses, to allies, to friends, to... something more than friends? 👀👀👀

-Pacifica gets pregnant.

-She doesn’t tell dipper. She doesn’t know.

-Unfortunately for her, Pacifica accidentally gets sent through the portal during a test run. Dipper drags her back, but whatever she saw (and she sure as fuck isn't saying what) on the other side has her FREAKING the FUCK out. It's like that "ant trying to process momentarily comprehending the soul of Cuthulu and going insane" post. It's overwhelming.

-She tries to convince Dipper that they need to shut the portal down and stop everything, but he refuses to listen. Dipper's obsessed. Over the past year of working on the portal, he, with the help of Bill's manipulations, has gotten fixated on finishing the portal and "discovering the mysteries of Gravity Falls". He won't hear a word about shutting the thing down.

-Actually, he's interrogating Pacifica about what she saw on the other side of the portal, asking her all of these questions, and generally being not as gentle and sympathetic with someone who just Experienced The Cosmic Horrors as he should be. He's demanding to know what was on the other side and refusing to take "stop asking" for an answer, meanwhile Pacifica is still shaking on the floor trying to process everything that just happened to her.

(Sorry, Paz)

-Dipper doesn't stop her when she runs away, back to her home.

-They... stop talking after that.

Part 1 | Part 2 |

#mads posts #relativity falls AU #relativity falls #gravity falls #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipcifica #bill cipher #grunkle mason au #hi. this is the part where dipper finds the Transgender Beam and blasts himself with it #so now he has a dick. i will not be going into any more detail but yes this is how pacifica gets pregnant despite dipper being a trans man #and NO she had literally no clue dipper was trans. he never told her

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itsjustrosee · 7 months ago

Text

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

pt. 1, Pt. 2

ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot!

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Sonya, Aris, and also Brenda. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team. Enemies to lovers

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

#minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #enemies to lovers #the maze runner #tmr fanfic #tmr fandom

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mybiasisexo · 3 months ago

Note

can i request 27 & 53 for the drabble withhhhh baekhyun? idk if i’m able to ask if it can lean towards an enemy/frenemies to lovers type trope but if not, it’s alright it’s up to your creativity and writing! i’m grateful for you and this writing, hope everything goes well for you, and thank you so much!

Effort 🤛

Genre: angst | arranged marriage!au | ceo!bbh | nonidol!au Pairing: Baekhyun x f.Reader Length: 1.4k Warnings: language

a/n: bro.... im only like half way done with these drabbles yall 😭. a lot of them are written its just getting them out now so yay for that! this is why i dont do these things. next time i know forsure to only accept like 10. thank you for the request! Sorry for taking so long 😭 but by this point yall should know the drill lmfaoooo 💖

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

You march into your condo in search for the other person that lives there.

You find him in the kitchen, sitting at the massive island, cradling a glass of whiskey.

On a mission, you make your way over to him and slam your hand on the marble top, demanding his attention.

Baekhyun jumps at the sound, turning to you with blurry eyes.

“Did you get into a fight?” You ask in annoyance.

Rolling his eyes, he huffs a laugh before taking a sip of his hard drink. “Hello to you too, Wife.”

Narrowing your eyes, you fight the warmth in your chest at the title. Wife. It’s been almost a year and you still haven’t fully come to terms with your newfound role.

“I heard what happened,” you inform him. You catch the stiffening of his shoulders and him muttering something about word traveling fast.

“If you already heard, why're you asking?”

“Because I need you to confirm it, and I need to know why.”

Baekhyun gulps, staring blankly ahead. “Mr. Lee. He was saying some very disgusting and vulgar things about you.”

That isn’t shocking. You are an heiress who spent majority of your youth causing chaos for your family. You were a wild child, spending most of your time partying for the tabloids to see. You had known the life you were going to be subjected to, so decided to live freely while you still could. Unfortunately, it earned you the reputation of being a drunk slut that followed you throughout the years. Despite getting your shit together, taking over your family business, and pushing it to bigger levels. Despite going as far as getting married, people still saw you as that reckless little girl. Many people within your company undermined your authority because of that, but it never swayed you. If anything, it only encouraged you more. You loved proving people wrong. Hearing someone as creepy as Mr. Lee was making lewd comments about you was unfortunately unsurprising.

What is surprising is your husband’s reaction.

In any other setting, a husband defending his wife’s honor is a normal act of love. That’s what they do, support and defend their spouse. But your marriage is a tad different due to the fact Baekhyun didn’t marry you out of love.

Actually, neither one of you had any say in this little arrangement. This union was only possible from the agreement of your parents.

You aren’t exactly happy about the situation, but you understand your position. That’s why you accepted the proposal without complaint. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was severely against the marriage and threatened everyone involved. Allegedly, he already had someone that he cherished around that time. You even had the pleasure of meeting her—at your own wedding, no less—and she was amazing. You totally understood why Baekhyun was angry. Still, he followed through with the arrangement, and here you are now, arguing in your shared apartment.

It isn’t the first time, nor the last you’re sure. You want to at least try to make this relationship work, but Baekhyun makes it impossible. He takes all his frustrations of your predicament out on you with cruel words and cold shoulders. He’s constantly reminding you how much he loathes you, like it was your idea to get married. As hard as you try to brush it off, it hurts. You were forced into this marriage too! You wanted the fairytale ending just as badly as everyone else in the world, but that simply wasn’t your reality. So, you make the best out of a shitty situation. Still, it feels extremely unfair for him to treat you like desperate trash just because he can’t outwardly express his pain and fury to his parents.

“And?” You reply. “Wouldn’t be the first time? They said he got a black eye and a bloody nose. He’s threatening to press charges. The board is contemplating your suspension.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t answer. Only takes another swig of his liquor.

“Baekhyun.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “It’s unlike you to react like this. I’m sorry that being tied to me is tarnishing your reputation. I know my parents promised that it wouldn’t, but it appears it is.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” he seethes. “It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact he was disrespecting my wife!”

He finally turns and gives you his attention. The fury he still feels over the situation radiates off of him in a heat so hot you’re surprised his clothes haven’t lit on fire. Your first instinct is to step away, not wanting to be his next victim. But, you stand firm, feigning courage.

“And I’d do it again,” he admits. “I’ll beat up anyone that talks about you like you’re some kind of whore they can pass around.”

“Why?” You ask in a whisper. “You hate me.”

He sighs. “I don’t hate you. I never have. I hate the situation we’re in. I hate that we didn’t mean it when we said ‘I do’.”

He lets go of his glass to take your hands in his. “But I don’t hate you. And I don’t blame you. I know I’ve been the worst husband ever, but these past few months I….”

He nibbles on his bottom lip and you blink back tears. “I’ve also said some hurtful things, and to your face. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for that. You’ve been trying, and it’s been working. I’ve realized now how much of an idiot I’ve been. We can make an opportunity out of this. We’re married now, and it’s time that I started acting like it.”

You give him a smile full of relief. “What’s changed?”

“It’s been little things, but the biggest change was at the merger last month.”

Oh. You didn’t think he remembered.

It was your first real public appearance together, so you had to chum it up for the cameras. You were the new It Couple, both the children of two of the most successful businesses in the country. You were tech royalty, and the merging of your families was like two warring nations signing a peace treaty. That night showed you a tender side of Baekhyun you’d never been exposed to, and you couldn’t help but to fall for this person. You knew that none of it was real, but he was just so kind and flirty and when he kissed you it sparked something from deep within. Baekhyun must had felt it as well, because the moment you were back home, you were all over each other. The both of you had been drinking, so that may have played a role on your eagerness. You convinced yourself you weren’t that drunk, and that he was your husband. This was what married couples did. When you were in the bed, Baekhyun pulled away for just a couple seconds to grab a condom and came back to you passed out. It was a reality check for him, and he panicked as the realization of what you were about to do dawned on him. Once the panic dimmed, he was relieved, knowing that your dynamic was already messed up as it was, sex would just make things worse. You woke up the next morning in an empty bed, fully clothed, and Baekhyun never brought it up.

Now that you think of it, Baekhyun has changed since. He has been a lot less hostile, and has been coming come early enough to share dinner with you. During your meals, he made a point to have conversation with you, and you’ve felt like there has been progress between you.

“Truth is,” he says quietly. “Ever since that night, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I don’t deserve you, but I want you anyway.”

“You want me?” You ask.

“I do,” he admits. He pulls you closer to stand between his legs and lets go of your hands to hold you by your hips. “I want to make us work. I want to know everything about you. What makes you laugh, what makes you happy, what your favorite food is, what turns you on.” He smiles suggestively and you shove his shoulder playfully. “I want to know you. I want to protect you. I want to be your husband.”

You blink back the flood of tears that blur your vision so that you can see him. “I want that too, Baekhyun. I want us to try.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth before daring a kiss to your lips, which you reciprocate. When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Then let’s try.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #exo scenarios #exo scenario #baekyhun drabble #baekhyun drabbles #exo drabble #exo drabbles #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun oneshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #baekhyunxreader #baekhyun x reader #exo x reader #exoxreader #my writing

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mecachrome · 10 days ago

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fic writer questions

haiii thank u @bright-and-burning for the tag :') nobody is online so i will Reflect and return with a worse image...

how many works do you have on AO3?

20 (16 on my main account, 4 on my sports account)... and then 15 more on dreamwidth 🥲

what's your total ao3 word count?

175.5k T__T

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

gurllll. no one needs to see my 11th grade k-pop fic like that

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try my best but i have a difficult relationship with my writing so i often block out that i wrote a fic at all after some time and it hinders my ability to acknowledge commenters directly ;__; and then i always feel awkward responding like 6 months late to someone so i just let it go even though i know no one actually minds... i really do appreciate every comment i get though and deeply cherish everyone's kind words and generosity!!!

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i don't really write angsty endings tbh i just write vaguely bittersweet ambiguous stuff... perhaps sharl character study i wrote for a friend's birthday would be up there because the whole thing is just inelegant whump LOL

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

for my own birthday a couple of years ago i wrote an extremely self-indulgent k-pop fic with all of my favorite tropes and also coded elaborate interactive html/css elements with multimedia messages and notifications you could tap on and the whole thing was just sweet secret relationship toothrutting fluff 💗 anyway extremely cringe but i enjoyed myself and thought it was mostly cute

do you write crossovers?

i haven't for any fictional fandoms... the concept is fun though!

have you ever received hate on a fic?

not directly 2 my face !!!

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i'm an ambiguous fade 2 black kind of guy even if i do try my best at times... TT i'm just too repressed 4 this life unfortunately. pwp writers have my major respect it really is sooo difficult to write cohesive compelling comprehensible porn

have you ever had a fic stolen?

idts but i have had oomfs/people adjacent my circles turn out to be plagiarizers which is always an unpleasant surprise!

have you ever had a fic translated?

yasss shoutout to anyone who has translated my random fics to russian or spanish 🧡

have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes ! i wrote a bnha au for a k-pop ship with my friend once lol she wrote most of it and i kind of just contributed a scene and the concept but it was still really fun, she's a much better writer than i could ever hope to be... also helped friend finish a fic for a fest once because it was overdue and she tapped out so i was up until 6am filling in scenes randomly for her. oh to be 18 again <3

what's your all-time favorite ship?

unfortunately in f1 it is simply landoscar... all-time i don't know!!! actually i do but i don't want to say it. nvm

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

arghhh... all of my 814 wips at the moment honestly. especially my kidfic verse that i'm deeply attached to but tragically incapable of working on TT and the jb81 that i totally gave up on!!!

what are your writing strengths?

this is an oxymoron.... i have never written anything good in my entire life. i love to beta read other people's fic for grammar though that's always fun

what are your writing weaknesses?

poor/stiff dialogue, horrible romantic development, inconsistent scene lengths, completely flat plot, no concept of good writing practices in general, a horrible tendency to purple prose, inability to write any actual conflict, i could go on

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

ehmmm i had a lot of strong opinions on this in k-pop fandom LOL and then it was funny to see the same thing happening in f1 but just with different languages (so much random french/german dialogue...) but i think there are untranslatable or commonly recognized words that can be sprinkled in verbatim, like in k-pop it makes sense to use certain honorifics that don't have english equivalents but i draw the line at not translating existing terms like "mom" lol... but i have a lot of thoughts on how languages are communicated in fic in general (perhaps too many), like i also overthink how to communicate grammatical structure - so if i'm writing a french character speaking french but presenting the dialogue in english or same with korean in k-pop fic i usually try to make it flow in a way that is as grammatically reasonable as possible, which goes beyond simple semantics but into the actual logic of syntax + verb order... ok i'll stop actually

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

i was writing crasy fanfiction in middle school 🧡 earliest i remember though is probably naruto circa 6th/7th grade... honestly hard to say because i purged a lot of my ffdotnet output out of shame in 8th grade lmfao

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I Forgor...

what's your favorite fic you've written?

for my sports fics i'm partial to my latest 814 fic because i feel like it's just generally inoffensive and not plainly awful 🤔 in general though i'm attached to some of my like most niche audience_of_2 dw fic that i've written for nugu boy groups with literally 0 fans. like a level of total nobodyness few can comprehend........... we were in the trenches

no pressure tagging @piastrisms @chelemlem @miamimaiden @liamlawsonlesbian if it would be of any interest ! 🥰

#personal #the less i write da better <3 #fun to introspect though

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plutoccult · 1 year ago

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HAIKYUU X THE OFFICE AU — EPISODE THREE: EMPLOYEE AWARDS NIGHT

pairing: sugawara koushi x female reader

description: it’s the annual employee awards night for japan pulp and paper, your least favorite night of the year. after getting embarrassed year after year over your ill-fated engagement, you just hope the night turns out decently, and your new conflicting feelings for sugawara aren’t all that helpful either.

word count: 5.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hello! i’m sorry this third part took so long to get to you guys. i’m juggling schoolwork alongside life in general and i didn’t want to rush this then post something crappy as a result. i’m really passionate about this au and want to provide the best content possible for everyone, not just myself (because honestly this is so self indulgent for me to write). this part will be inspired by the dundies episode, of course with many changes, and as you can tell, we’re getting closer to the angst!!! my favorite!!! i’m thinking about making a suga x reader playlist, honestly. hopefully the wait for this was worth it, and i hope you enjoy!

“y/n, y/n, y/n!” oh, how you hated the tone of ukai’s voice right now. based off experience—and also the time of year—he was either going to a. act super excited about something, b. say something stupid, or the most popular option, c. both. “you know what time of the year it is.”

“unfortunately, i do.” you sigh as you look up from your computer.

ukai pouted over your lack of enthusiasm. he should know by now why you were like this. “why aren’t you excited? awards night! chili’s! booze! ribs! good vibes!”

yes, awards night. you absolutely despised this night ever since you began working at the office. it was more like an ordinary power trip for ukai rather than an actual celebration for the employees. most if not all of the time, at least someone got absolutely humiliated, and you were one of the common targets. but, there was free food and drinks, so you couldn’t totally hate it, even if you really did hate it a whole lot.

“well, i do like ribs.” you shrug.

“what about booze?” he questioned.

“i need to listen to a lot of taylor swift if i’m going to drink, or be really sad…” you pause. “or all of the above.”

“ugh, how pathetic.” ukai scoffed and began to walk away.

“don’t make me tell takeda you bully your employees on the daily.” you lightly threatened, but ukai wasn’t wavered by your words one bit.

“i bully him on the daily, i’m invincible!” he said, perhaps a little too loud as the entire office could hear him, even takeda himself in his little nook.

“uh-huh…”

•••

“every year, ukai holds an awards night for all the employees at japan pulp and paper. mind you, he funds the entire thing. none of the other branches to this. just this one.” you explain to the camera as the crew questioned ukai’s yearly excursion. “it’s probably my least favorite night of the year besides the bachelor finale. i always get sad thinking about how majority of those relationships never work out…”

•••

in his office, ukai put on a show for the documentary crew as he conveniently placed all of his past awards on his desk for the sake of “cleaning” them. they were all awards he gave to himself, but he still felt like a winner regardless.

“oh, what’s this?” ukai asked as he pretended to act like he didn’t notice the cameras were rolling. “just my “world’s best boss” awards. i’ve never lost once. i should make a reel, actually… Y/N!”

you cursed to yourself as you got up from your desk and walked to ukai’s office, eyeing suga as he snickered quietly and rolling your eyes as a result. “is it a y/n problem or a ukai problem?”

“y/n problem.” he said without hesitation. “i’m emailing you footage from every miyagi awards and i need you to make a highlight reel.”

“can’t you just make tanaka do it?” you whined. you could be doing much more productive things right now, like making faxes or pining for suga from afar— oh! you were still struggling with that newfound realization, it seemed.

“but where’s the fun in that?” ukai whined.

oh, but the fun was so obvious to you, how could your egotistical boss not see that? “um, he’d probably make the highlight reel all about you rather than everybody else.”

“y/n, you beautiful genius.” perfection, just like you wanted, and a rare compliment from ukai too. “TANAKA!”

tanaka bolted out of his seat, knocking over his chair and even spooking the shit out of suga. he tripped over his feet multiple times as he ran to the sound of ukai’s voice, almost like an over-obedient puppy. it was sad, but oddly adorable at the same time.

“yes, sir?!” tanaka asked, practically gasping for air. how could he be so out of breath so quickly, you wondered.

“miyagi awards highlight reel. have it done by the end of the day.” ukai ordered, passing your previous duty onto someone far more willing.

“i’m on it!” he said excitedly, running back to his desk as quickly as he arrived.

now that you got away with not having to do a thing, you wanted out of ukai’s spiky hair. “am i done here?”

“eh, make me a coffee or something.” ukai said, shooing you away. as if you were going to do that for him.

“sounds like a ukai problem, not a y/n problem.” you sassed, shocking your boss as he cried out for you on your way out of his office.

“y/n! god, where did you learn that from?! tsukishima?!”

•••

“she sure did.” tsukishima smiled proudly as the two of you high fived each other. where else would you learn such sass? from the sass master himself, of course. he was the leader of the sassy apocalypse.

“you know, i actually dislike you less now, tsukishima.” you say nonchalantly, and tsukishima is touched by your words.

“that is the nicest thing i’ve ever heard.” he said, placing his hand over his heart to show his appreciation.

•••

the work day went by, and tanaka sat on his computer while looking through past awards footage. upon his digging, he stopped on a certain clip from last year, one you instantly recognized just by the sounds of the camera shuffling, even from the distance of your desk to his. you couldn’t believe you were reliving this right now.

“yo, guys. watch this.” tanaka called out. nishinoya and hinata get out of their seats and crowd at tanaka’s desk to watch the computer screen with more of your coworkers following suit. it all made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

tanaka resumed the video, thus playing out last year’s utter embarrassment. it was ukai announcing your award, one that haunts you to this day. “and the award for "world’s longest engagement" goes to… y/n l/n! give it up for y/n, everybody!”

the sound of everyone’s applause in the video erupted through the office. suga sat awkwardly across from tanaka, so even if he wasn’t watching the video, he could hear it all loud and clear. he remembered that night all too well, and all suga could think to himself was that if he was your fiancé, he wouldn’t leave you waiting around to get married.

“when are you finally gonna tie that knot, you two? when pigs fly?”

god, the memories are all coming back to you. getting the award was bad enough, but with ryo right there watching, just as embarrassed as you, it was all too much. you couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, so you walked away from your desk and went to the break room, hoping it would be empty so you could go cry in there. suga noticed you walk away, and while tempted to comfort you, he thought of something much better.

suga—with the camera crew inches behind him—knocked on ukai’s office door. when ukai noticed the cameras, he motioned for them to come in. suga just knew his boss simply couldn’t resist it.

“hey ukai?” he walked through the door, one of the crew members closing the door behind him. “ooh, it’s cramped in here.”

“you’ll get used to it.” ukai shrugged. “what’s up?”

“have you, uh, finalized the miyagi awards yet?” suga asked. he was beating around the bush right now, but it was all part of his not so sinister master plan.

“why, you want me to rig something? because i can be convinced…” ukai dramatically paused. “with money.”

“no, not exactly. i just, uh…” he sat down in an empty chair. “i’m kind of curious as to what award you’re giving y/n this year.”

you see, ukai didn’t have a clue about suga’s feelings for you. if he paid a little more attention to his employees, he’d see how clear as day it was that you two had some unspoken thing going on. even the documentary crew noticed it on their first day of filming. his obliviousness was just bad.

“oh, same as last year, no contest.” ukai struggled not to laugh, the mere thought of what happened last year giving him the urge to burst. “it's the best one.”

“world’s longest engagement? again?” suga scoffed. he had an inkling this would happen, and thank god he decided to talk to ukai while you had no suspicions.

“yeah, it’s hilarious.” he replied.

now this was where suga had to let his plan really start rolling. it’s phase one now. “i just, um, i think it’s just pretty much expected by now, you know?”

“but that's why it's funny.” ukai said. “every year that y/n and ryo don't get married, it gets funnier.”

“well, i think if you use the same jokes it just comes across as lazy, if you catch my drift.” suga shrugged. there comes the first crack in the glass. he knew exactly where to push ukai’s buttons.

“lazy?!”

“and unoriginal.” the glass had been totally shattered now.

“well, i never!” ukai gasped out of offense. lazy and unoriginal? he’d rather die than have his jokes be called such things, which is why he fell right into suga’s trap.

“oughta think of something better then.” he said, resisting a smirk.

“and what’s your idea of better, suga?” ukai questioned, crossing his arms as he waited for an answer.

“oh, well, let me think about that.” suga smiled to the camera, proud of his work.

•••

you walk into the break room with tears in your eyes. unfortunately for you, takeda was sitting at a table alone as he sipped a cup of coffee, so you quickly wiped away your tears and pretended as if nothing was wrong.

“oh, hey, takeda.” you sniffle. “excited about awards night?”

you weren’t exactly the best at hiding things, which takeda instantly noticed. it’s almost never a good idea to cry in front of the hr guy. “y/n, are you crying? did ukai do something insanely offensive again?”

you’re silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say to him, especially considering he’s higher up than you in the company. regardless, the words all just come out like word vomit.

“i’m in the world’s longest engagement with a man who doesn’t even know my favorite flavor of yogurt.” you spilled out, instantly regretting saying those words out loud based off the confused look on takeda’s face. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything—”

“no, no, no. it’s okay.” he reassured you. “you guys can come to me about anything, especially if it’s ukai related.”

“really?” you asked in disbelief.

“emphasis on anything, not just the ukai stuff.” takeda said. it’s nice to know someone else around here has your back, even if that’s quite literally part of his job.

“thanks, takeda.” you say. “i don’t know why ukai messes with you so much.”

“trust me, i don’t know why either…” he quietly said to himself.

you decided that since you were already in the break room, you might as well grab your favorite snack, but alas, someone ate it. again. you knew you should’ve bought that mini fridge to hide behind your desk like you wanted to.

“aw, did yamaguchi eat my fucking yogurt again?” you groan then instantly realized you dropped the f-bomb on camera once again. “oh shit, i just cursed. fuck, i did it again! oh my god, please stop me—”

•••

“i am not okay, guys. not okay.” you say while laughing almost manically, sparking concern from the crew who questioned your sanity. “i have feelings for someone who isn’t my fiancé. someone i work with, no less! i’ve been with ryo for years, since college! but will i EVER get married? i just… i don’t know what to do. i just want this to all go away.”

•••

after arguing with ryo at home, you finally convinced him to come along with you to chili’s for awards night. he wanted to go out to a bar with his friends instead, but he did that plenty enough, so one night without going wouldn’t kill him, at least you hoped that was the case. you couldn’t bear to hear his voice any longer at this point.

the two of your entered the restaurant and were greeted by tanaka and nishinoya, who were taking on the role of ushers before the event properly began.

“welcome to the eighth annual japan pulp and paper awards night.” nishinoya greeted you. “may i take your coat, y/n?”

“sure, nishinoya, thanks.” you say, taking off your coat and handing it to him.

“ryo—” he began to say before ryo brushed past you and grumpily walked towards an empty table. “nevermind.”

you softly smile to them before following ryo, taking the vacant seat next to him. you let out a sigh and look over to see suga was already here, sitting at a table with hinata and kageyama, seemingly babysitting them for the night. you assumed daichi put him up to it, wondering how he was able to be convinced.

“i can’t believe you dragged me here after what happened last year, y/n. you embarrassed me.” ryo scoffed.

god, not this argument again. you remembered what happened when you got home that night last year. your argument lasted all throughout the hours of the night, all to end with no solution. you both went to work the next day with bags under your eyes, the sweet bliss of caffeine keeping you in a somewhat functioning state.

you couldn’t understand why ryo would claim this was all your fault. he was the one that proposed to you! besides, you were far more than willing to plan a wedding, but it takes more than one person to do it. you would have never gotten that pathetic award in the first place had it not been for his lack of cooperation. it’s why your relationship was doomed to fail; he never wanted to work as a team.

“really?” you raise an eyebrow. “if anything, you embarrassed me.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, a hint of threat in his tone.

“it means exactly what i said.“ you huff.

“pft, whatever.” ryo rolled his eyes. “we should’ve just went to the thirsty bulldog with the warehouse guys like i wanted to.”

“well, you can go. i’m staying.” you cross your arms.

before ryo could get another word in, tanaka walked onto a small stage with a microphone in hand, signaling the awards were about to begin.

“alright, before we get started, a few announcements. keep your acceptance speeches short.” tanaka said, wagging his finger around so everyone got the point. “i have wrap it up music, and i'm not afraid to use it, people!”

ukai took the microphone out of tanaka’s hand despite his protest and forced him off the stage, getting the night properly started. “thank you tanaka for that, and thank you all for coming to the 2023 miyagi awards night! i am your host, keishin ukai. let’s all have some fun tonight!”

everyone clapped, and ryo simply couldn’t stand to be there a moment longer. he looked at his surroundings to see if anyone would notice him leaving, but he thought screw it and decided to just straight up get out.

“i’m leaving.” he said quietly in your ear. “find your own way home.”

“fine by me.” you reply.

ryo shook his head in annoyance. “god, you’re such a bitch, y/n.”

your jaw dropped as you watched ryo leave the restaurant. you knew no one else heard what he said, but you wished someone did so they could see why you were in such shock right now.

“oh man, ryo, don’t go, aw no, come on—” ukai said on ryo’s way out, letting out a chuckle once he saw him head through the exit. “whew, thank god.”

all of your coworkers laughed, and you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. at least last time you met your fate towards the end of the night, not right at the beginning. this was already off to a horrendous start.

to come to your rescue, suga slinked out of his chair and walked over to the empty seat next to you. “this seat taken?”

you uncover your eyes and see suga, your knight in shining armor. he always came to you when you needed him most, didn’t he? “uh, not anymore, no.”

“great.” he grinned and sat down. “someone else will have to babysit carrot top and mr. simpleton idiot tonight.”

why did suga have to make the whole feelings thing so hard for you? he just had to be perfect in every way, the complete opposite of your asshole fiancé. he always treated you like porcelain, and if that’s what you were, then ryo had shattered you a long time ago. but as much as that sick and twisted part of you deep down wanted suga, you knew you couldn’t have him. it was wrong.

as the night moved along, a waitress walked up to your table to take your order, just what you needed. if you were going to spend this night with suga and potentially be made a running joke, you needed reinforcements in the form of intoxicating liquid. there was no way you could get through tonight sober, as sad as it sounded.

“can i get you two something to drink?” the waitress asked politely.

“two of the strongest drink you have.” you reply.

“alright, i’ll be right back—” she began to say before you cut her off.

“oh no, that’s just for me.” you say with out hesitation. suga’s eyes widened as a result, his concern evident.

•••

“is y/n okay? do any of you know what’s up with her?” suga asked.

of course they knew, but it’s not like they were going to spill, especially considering they would be fired if they ruined such a slow burn. the producers knew full well they had a glorious storyline unfolding on their hands, and none of the crew members were allowed to directly stir the pot.

“nothing?” he groaned. yup, not a peep from them. “you have to know something. god, you guys suck.”

the camera crew took that personally.

•••

the distributing of the awards went smoothly so far. no complete and utter humiliation happened yet, so it was safe to say nothing was terribly wrong. while ukai’s awards were almost always at least slightly offensive, some of them were actually kind of funny.

“alright, y’all. this award goes to someone who is quite literally scared of everything.” ukai began. “i mean, they freak out when a fly is in the room. so, the award for “biggest scaredy cat” goes to… hitoka yachi!”

everyone did the typical applause, and kiyoko giggled at yachi while she went up to get her award. on the way up to the stage, she received a high five from yamaguchi, her cheeks slightly burning red as a result. however, her blush quickly faded when she received her little trophy.

“um, this says “biggest scaredy rat”…” she spoke up.

“ignore that.” ukai said.

before yachi had a chance to speak another word, tanaka played his “wrap it up” music that he threatened everybody with earlier. “i didn’t even give a speech!”

“we’re on a time crunch!” tanaka yelled harshly.

“but i…” yachi pouted as she accepted defeat and walked off the stage.

“it’s okay, yachi.” yamaguchi tried to comfort her.

“thanks, yamaguchi.” she sighed.

“i’m shocked you didn’t get that award considering you look like the rat from flushed away.” tsukishima snickered while yamaguchi gawked at his savage comment.

“what?!”

while that was going on, you were downing drink after drink. you weren’t even counting anymore. no thoughts, head empty; just the way you wanted it to be. you figured this was the only way to feel good about yourself with the way your life is going, so you thought so be it.

after finishing yet another drink, you slammed the glass down onto the table and raised your fists into the air. “y’all know what dj khaled said!”

“anotha one?” suga replied hesitantly.

“anotha one!” you exclaim.

“okay, let’s settle down.” cough. “y/n.”

“are you still drinking that?” you ask suga.

“um—”

“great, thanks.” you interrupt suga and take his beer, giving him no room to protest. he wanted to tell you to relax on the drinks, but he found it hard to do so. would it come off the wrong way? maybe, so suga had to bite his tongue while you got drunk. you weren’t the only one drinking anyway, but you might be the only one drinking to this extent.

once you were quiet, ukai began to announce the next award. “this next award is one that’s never been done before. gasp, am i right? why are none of you gasping?”

crickets.

“anyway, this award goes to someone who’s built like a greek god and is always rocking a gorgeous man bun.” he said, making it all so obvious. “the “office beefcake” award goes to… asahi the temp!”

asahi looked to the camera in shock.

•••

“what’s… what’s a beefcake?” he asked in disbelief, hoping someone could grant him an answer, but he was left with nothing. “is it like, um, a cake made of beef? a beef made of cake? wait, that doesn’t even make sense…”

one of the crew members pulled up the definition on their phone and handed it to him. when asahi read it over, his eyes widened. “oh...”

•••

“this award… is no contest.” ukai said. from the way he started speaking, you thought the award was for you, but thankfully it wasn’t. “i ask myself this all the time, how can one possess such a hair color without dyeing it?”

“ugh, come on.” tsukishima rolled his eyes. “we already know it’s an award for hinata.”

ukai couldn’t even get that mad. it was his most unoriginal award ever. a painfully obvious one too. “yeah, come up here, ginger.”

hinata rushed onto the stage as happy as he could be, but his smile quickly went away when he read out his award. “most orange hair? not again!”

kageyama hollered out into a fit of laughter, probably the only employee who found this hilarious. any chance to laugh at hinata, he would take, but he sure wouldn’t get the last laugh once ukai was done with him.

“well, kageyama, since you find that so funny, let’s give out your award.” he said then went to look for the trophy. “where is it… ah, it’s the “tight ass” award!”

“but that went to tsukishima last year!” kageyama stood defiantly.

“well, guess what? there’s a new tight ass in town!” ukai cackled.

tsukishima laughed his ass off. he wouldn’t have been mad if he received the same award, but this… this was the greatest potential outcome. this may just end up being the best awards night ever. that is, if everyone is happy by the end of it.

all while tsukishima laughed, kageyama gave him the death glare, but it wasn’t long before he switched his gaze onto ukai, who joined in on the laughter.

•••

“how’s the award, kageyama?”

“i’m gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine and show ukai who the REAL tight ass is.” he said through gritted teeth. it was safe to say no one should speak to him for the rest of the night.

•••

it was halfway through the night, and after so many awards had been given out, it was time to relax a little bit. unfortunately, ukai’s idea of “relaxing” wasn’t what any of your pictured.

“now, it’s time for a brief intermission…” he spoke into the microphone. “one where i will be singing bring me to life by evanescence with tanaka.”

“oh my god.” kiyoko’s eyes widened. she couldn’t handle this right now. it’s too much.

“kiyoko’s got a crush…” daichi teased, gently nudging her shoulder while yachi tried to pull him away to stop.

“daichi, don’t—”

“i’m just poking fun!” he raised his hands in the air defensively.

“shut your trap, daichi.” kiyoko said lowly.

“that doesn’t work on me like it works on tanaka and nishinoya.” daichi said with full confidence before kiyoko gave him the death glare, which immediately made him cower down. “but that does.”

meanwhile, you’re sipping on an empty glass through a straw, and suga couldn’t help but take notice to it. “uh, i think that might be empty, y/n.”

“no, no, no. when the ice melts it’s just like a second drink!” you giggle before letting out a loud hiccup.

“lemme just…” suga tried taking the glass out of your hands, but you fought against it, so he gave up. “nevermind.”

suga’s concern only grew more and more. not just towards you, but also to the horrendously off-key performance ukai and tanaka were putting on right now. at least the “god, please help me” face on kiyoko had while she covered her ears was funny.

“WAKE ME UP!”

“WAKE ME UP INSIDE!”

“I CAN’T WAKE UP!”

“WAKE ME UP INSIDE!”

“SAVE ME!”

suddenly, wadded up napkins were pelted at ukai and tanaka, but it wasn’t their coworkers who did such a thing. it was the other poor customers in the restaurant who just wanted to have a nice meal.

“you guys SUCK!” a random guy yelled, crushing both ukai’s soul and his confidence, so he pressed pause on the music, which confused tanaka.

“hey, why’d you stop?” he questioned, ready to keep going despite the haters.

“i’m not feeling it anymore.” ukai shrugged. “we should just cut this short, you guys. just enjoy your food and stuff.”

cut this short? oh no, no, no. you didn’t get drunk for nothing! if ukai was going to put you to shame once again, you sure weren’t going to be sober for it this time around.

“wait, where’s my award?!” you whined. “i didn’t get one!”

“yeah, me too!” suga chimed in to help your case. he too didn’t put on all that work convincing ukai for nothing. neither of your efforts shall be in vein.

“anotha one! anotha one! anotha one!” you began to chant, suga joining in before the rest of your coworkers did too “come on, everybody!”

the chant went on for a few more seconds before ukai finally gave in, but you would soon live to regret your previous decision. “okay, fine! since you asked so nicely… this next award goes out to none other than our lovely receptionist, y/n.”

all of your drunkenness quickly faded into sober realization as you brace for what’s to come. suga could only hope his earlier conversation with ukai actually worked.

“i think we all know what award y/n is going to get this year…” a dramatic pause, it’s killing you. why does ukai love those so much? “it’s the “dairy queen” award! because she’s always eating yogurt without blowing up the bathroom afterwards!”

you instantly gasp and look over to see the proud smile on suga’s face. you have no clue he took part in this for your sake, but you’re just too elated to think right now. you couldn’t believe this was happening in the best way possible. finally, you weren’t the butt of the joke, and it was absolutely glorious.

“come on down, y/n!” ukai said as you got out of your chair—still in shock—and walked up to the stage for your award, one you were actually excited to receive.

“oh my god!” you say as you grab the microphone out of ukai’s hands to give a speech. “i have so many people to thank for this award.”

“first off, shoutout to my supreme tolerance for lactose, i’m just really built different.” you began. “uh, let’s give ukai a round of applause for being our mc tonight because this is a lot harder than it looks. and also because of tanaka too.”

you watched as everyone clapped, but your eyes were fixed on suga for a brief moment as he watched you in complete and utter amazement. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, but you sure felt on top of the world right now.

“and um, finally, i want to thank god. because god gave me this award…” you pause before saying nine words that nobody will ever let you live down, but you didn’t care. “and i feel god in this chili’s tonight. WOO!”

“y/n l/n, ladies and gentlemen!” ukai exclaimed as you gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, making him blush “oh! thank you…”

you return to your seat and instantly wrap your arms around suga. he’s taken aback at first, but returned your embrace and found himself lingering against your touch longer than he should. you let go of the hug and jump up and down in excitement, forcing suga to join you, and does so happily.

•••

“i think this might just have been the best awards night ever.” suga said to the camera. in all honesty, it was your happiness that made it this way. “we got a killer evanescence cover, which is always awesome. asahi is the office beefcake now, pretty bummed it’s not me. kageyama dethroned tsukishima, which was a total shocker, in my opinion. and uh, you’re the dairy queen.”

suga looked over to you and saw that you were staring at him while continuously nodding. “what?”

“nothing.” you smile. you were so drunk right now.

“okay.” he said before looking away. when suga turned his head again, you were still staring at him, and he could swear he saw hearts in your eyes. “what?!”

“nothing!” you start laughing uncontrollably and fall out of your chair, still laughing.

“oh my god, you are so drunk!” suga exclaimed as he rushed down to the floor to lift you back up, but ukai had a different idea in mind.

“oh fuck, she’s dead!”

“you’re not supposed to curse, ukai!” suga yelled at him.

“shut the fuck up, suga!” he yelled back.

•••

“was this year's awards night a success?” ukai repeated the documentary crew’s question. “well, let's see. i made y/n laugh so hard that she fell out of her chair, and she almost broke her neck, so i killed… almost.”

•••

after the whole falling out of your chair ordeal, you and ukai ended up banned from the establishment. you walked out of the place with suga, who had his eye on you incase your body threatened to let you fall again. you notice the cameras are on you on your way out, and with your trophy in hand, you yell to the camera.

“i just want to say… that this was the best night ever! WOO!” you say before tripping over your own feet.

“woah, careful!” suga quickly caught you, your eyes lingering onto each other’s gaze.

“…thank you.” you step away from suga’s gentle grasp. you really were porcelain, weren’t you?

the silence afterwards engulfed you both. your drunken mind was telling you to kiss him, but the part of you that started to sober up screamed no. you couldn’t. you can’t ruin this one good thing that’s yours.

“hey, how are you getting home tonight?” suga asked to break the silence.

“i, uh, didn’t think that part through.” you let out a dry laugh. you defiant behavior towards ryo earlier may have been a mistake as you knew he wouldn’t be here to pick you up later, but you always had suga to count on.

“well, i can take you home.” he offered. “didn’t exactly drink enough to get tipsy considering you kept stealing my drinks.”

“heh, sorry about that…” you look away, embarrassed over your previous behavior.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something…” suga paused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. “um, are you… doing okay? you seemed upset after ryo left.”

“i’m uh…” you hesitate, your head swirling. i’m harboring conflicting feelings for you despite being engaged to another man, you think to yourself, but you knew you couldn’t say that out loud. “i’m doing just fine.”

it wasn’t what suga wanted to hear, but he just had to accept it. “oh, okay. let’s get you home then.”

one way or another, sugawara koushi would be the death of you.

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