Super Crazy

You sit alone at the bar waiting on your drink, grey and red suit and black shoes, every bit as ostentatious as the atmosphere around you is subdued. Your finger taps against the granite in no particular rhythm.

The Gozyu Wolf ring catches the low light each time your pointer finger comes down. Tap. Tap. Tap. Your friend’s a no-show. You order the gin and tonic anyway.

Yunjin spots you the moment she walks in.

You’re not hard to find — the size alone would do it, but the suit seals it. She tilts her head from across the room, decides something, and starts walking over.

You clock her coming. Blue hair. Unhurried. The eye contact she makes about halfway across the bar is the kind that dares you to look away first. You don’t, and she smirks like that was the right answer.

By the time she’s close enough you’ve already placed her. Huh Yunjin. Le Sserafim.

She takes the stool beside you like she’d reserved it.

“Hi. I’m Jennifer — what’s your name?”

Her voice is lower than you expected. Warm. The energy behind it is the easy confidence of someone who’s never had trouble filling a room.

“I know who you are, Yunjin.” You turn to face her. “You’re one of the biggest acts in the world right now.”

She smiles — pleased but not surprised. “Well. Thank you.” A beat. “Okay, big guy, that’s still not your name.”

You think about it for a second longer than necessary. “Kanji.”

Her brow goes up. “That’s not really an American name.”

“It’s not. My step-grandmother named me. She was Japanese.”

“Oh.” She nods, recalibrating. “Okay, that tracks.” She glances at your glass, then back at you. “So what are you doing here alone in a suit like that?”

You exhale through your nose. “Was supposed to be dinner with the friends I moved out here with. Fancy place, big celebration — all of us got promoted around the same time. Was also going to introduce them to my girlfriend.” You pause. “She dumped me this afternoon.”

Yunjin’s expression sharpens. “Why?”

You shift your voice into a flat impression of your ex’s cadence: “Kanji, you’re great — you’re just performing under your potential.”

Yunjin laughs. Actually laughs. “Okay. That was good.” She leans an elbow on the bar. “What do you do?”

“Market research for a major toy company. And I wrestle professionally on the side.”

Her eyes go wide in a way that doesn’t feel performed. “That’s genuinely cool.”

“Thanks.”

She’s quiet for a moment, watching you. Then: “What if I came with you tonight? As your date.”

You look at her. “Why?”

“I’m feeling spontaneous.” A small smile. “And you seem like someone who can hold it down.”

“Yun.” You say it flat. “You don’t owe me anything.”

She catches it immediately, the smile shifting into something more amused. “Yun? Nicknames already — bold.”

“Fine.” You stand and leave cash on the bar. “Let’s go then.”

She falls into step beside you, close enough that you’re aware of it. When she slides into the passenger seat she breathes in and says, almost to herself, “It smells really good in here.”

You start the car. “I try to keep it that way. Never know who’s riding.”

She laughs and settles back into the seat. “Okay. To the expensive restaurant.”

The city moves past the windows in amber and neon. You merge onto the main boulevard and Yunjin shifts in her seat to face you more fully, like she’s settling in for something.

“So. Market research and wrestling.” She says it like she’s reading a résumé she can’t quite believe. “Which one pays better?”

“Market research. By a lot.”

“So why do you still wrestle?”

You think about it for a second. “Same reason people play in bands after they get office jobs.”

She considers that. Nods slowly. “Okay. That’s a good answer.” She tucks one leg under herself. “What’s your character? Like your wrestling character.”

“You follow wrestling?”

“I follow everything.” She says it without a trace of arrogance, just fact. “What’s your character?”

“Depends on the promotion. The main one I work — I’m a Heel. Masked. Arrogant. Very concerned with legacy because the mask comes from a legacy wrestler.”

Yunjin grins. “That tracks.”

You glance at her. “How does that track? You’ve known me for eleven minutes.”

“You’ve been composed this whole time. Like, almost unnervingly. And you’ve barely asked me anything about myself.” She tilts her head. “Either you’re shy, which I don’t think, or you’re the kind of person who makes people come to you.”

The light ahead turns red. You stop.

“In my defense I asked you why you wanted to come tonight.”

“That’s one question.”

“It was a good question.”

She laughs at that — bright and unguarded, different from the bar laugh. “Okay. Fair.” She turns back toward the windshield, watching the red light. “What do you drive when you’re not in this one?”

“This is the only one.”

“You keep a car this clean as your daily?”

“I’m in it every day. Seems worth caring about.”

She looks around the interior again like she’s reassessing something. “Hm.” Then, almost too casually: “Does the girlfriend situation bother you? Like right now.”

“Ex.”

“Does the ex situation bother you right now.”

You pull forward on the green. “Ask me at the end of the night.”

Yunjin watches the side of your face for a beat too long. “You’re interesting.”

“You keep deciding things about me.”

“I’m usually right.” She reaches over without asking and changes the song playing lowly through the speakers, scrolling until she finds something she likes. A slow R&B groove fills the car. She doesn’t explain the choice. “Okay. What’s the toy company? Can you say?”

“Can’t.”

“Okay. What kind of research do you do?”

“Consumer behavior. Focus groups. Trend forecasting. I figure out what kids want before kids know they want it.”

She points at you. “See, that is a villain job.” she added “Told you.”

“Did you always want to do that?”

“No.”

“What did you want to do?”

You change lanes smoothly. “Be a mechanic. My grandfather had a shop.”

That lands differently than the wrestling answers. She goes quiet for a second, genuinely quiet, not just reloading. “What happened to the shop?”

“He retired. None of us had the capital to take it over.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I still work on my car.”

She looks around the interior again, something shifting in her expression. “Is that why it smells like this?”

“Leather conditioner and ocean scents. Yeah.”

She settles back into her seat and smiles at the road ahead of you. Not at you — at the road, like she’s filing something away. “Okay. I like you, Kanji.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re easy to impress.”

Yunjin pouts at you, “I’m really not.” She glances over. “You just don’t know that yet.”

The restaurant appears at the end of the block, its entrance lit up in warm gold. You slow down looking for parking and she leans forward slightly like she’s ready for whatever comes next.

“How bad is the friend group going to be about this?” she asks.

“About what?”

She gestures vaguely between the two of you.

You find a spot and pull in. Cut the engine. “Catastrophic.”

Yunjin grins like that’s exactly what she was hoping to hear. She opens her door and steps out into the night air, and you hear her say, mostly to herself —

“Good.”

You stop on the way to the restaurant after Yunjin insists on changing into something more formal.

You’re parked outside her hotel for maybe fifteen minutes, phone in hand, when the knock comes at the window.

You look up. At first you resist but then you acquiesce because she already has you wrapped around her finger.

She’s changed into a beige dress that does everything right — the color plays off her hair and the warm undertone of her skin like it was chosen for exactly that purpose. She looks like she belongs on a step-and-repeat. Like someone pointed a camera at her and the camera got lucky.

You lean over and open the door.

She slides in, smoothing the dress as she settles, and catches your expression before you can do anything about it. “What?”

“I’m going to need you to be careful.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“You keep looking like that,” you say, pulling back into traffic, “I’m going to have to make you my wife.”

Yunjin laughs — the unguarded one again. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“I’m proactive.”

“Clearly.” She crosses her legs and glances out the window, still smiling. “For what it’s worth I wasn’t going to show up to a nice restaurant in my going-out look.”

“The bar look was fine.”

“The bar look was casual.” She says it with the practiced authority of someone who has opinions about this. “This is a completely different occasion.”

“My point stands either way.”

She turns to look at you. “Your point being that you’ll wife me up.”

“If you’re not careful.”

She holds eye contact for a second, then turns back to the window. “Okay, big guy. Let’s see how the night goes first.”

You drive. The city does its thing outside the glass.

You’re the first ones there.

The host takes you to the table and a waiter materializes almost immediately, relieving you of your coat, then turning to Yunjin and lifting the shawl from her shoulders with practiced ease. She thanks him with the reflexive warmth of someone who’s been in these rooms before — not showy, just fluent.

You pull out her chair.

She notices, doesn’t comment, sits.

The restaurant settles around you — low light, soft acoustics, the kind of quiet that costs money. You’re barely in your seats before Yunjin closes some of the distance between you, leaning in with her forearms on the table, angled toward you more than straight ahead.

Close enough that you’re aware of her perfume now.

“This place is really nice,” she says, voice low. Not whispering exactly. Just not performing for the room.

“I picked it.”

She hums, letting her eyes drift around the space before coming back to you. “Of course you did.” Then, tilting her head just slightly: “So my boyfriend has excellent taste.”

You look at her.

She holds the look with a small, unhurried smile — daring you to correct her, not expecting you to. When you don’t, something in her expression settles like she’s made a quiet decision.

“Phone,” she says, already reaching for hers. “Come here.”

She leans into you without warning, shoulder pressing into your arm, her cheek close enough to yours that you can feel the warmth of it. The scent of her hair does something you elect not to examine too closely. She angles the phone up and the shutter goes twice, three times — she’s laughing in at least one of them, something you said or didn’t say, and she pulls back just enough to review them with the particular focus of someone who cares about the craft.

“Good,” she decides. She shows you. You look better than you expected. She looks exactly as good as she is.

She sends one to you without asking for your number, which means at some point in the last few seconds she got your number, and you didn’t notice.

You’re going to have to watch this woman.

She sets the phone face-down and props her chin in both hands, elbows on the table, eyes level with yours. The candlelight is doing something specific to her face that you’re making a deliberate effort not to think about.

“Okay. When do the rest of them get here?”

“Reservation was for now. Give or take two, three minutes.”

She nods slowly. Doesn’t stop looking at you. “Okay.” Then her gaze drops — briefly, deliberately — to your left hand resting on the table. “Tell me about the ring.”

You glance at your hand and laugh, then shift to extend your right index finger. “College football. Conference championship ring.”

Her expression does something between amusement and mild offense. “You’re just like Kura unnie.” She reaches across the table and takes your left hand by the wrist — not hard, just enough to redirect it, turning it so the ring catches the light. Her thumb rests against your palm. She doesn’t let go immediately. “I meant the big one.”

Her hand is warmer than you expected.

“That’s a sentai ring.”

She looks up from your hand. “A what?”

“Super Sentai. Power Rangers, in America. This one’s from the last season.” You turn your hand slightly so she can see the face of it — and she lets you move it, but her fingers stay loosely around your wrist.

“Tegasword. The main mech.”

She studies it for a moment, then studies you. Her thumb traces an absent line across your palm once — probably not intentional — and then she releases your hand and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms like she’s arrived at something.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ve got you figured out.”

“Do you.”

“Nerdy pro wrestling toy salesman.” She ticks it off like she’s been building the list. “Keeps a close relationship with his inner child because it keeps him grounded. Uses it as an anchor — for himself and for the people around him.” She leans forward again slowly, closing the distance back down. Her voice drops just slightly. “Either that or you’re on the spectrum. Both things can be true.”

The candlelight sits between you. She’s close enough now that looking straight ahead means looking directly at her.

“Which one do you think?” you ask.

She considers you for a moment, unhurried, like she has all night and plans to use it.

“I think,” she says quietly, “you’re going to tell me yourself before the entrées arrive.”

You scowl at Yunjin and say “you've got some mouth on you,”

She smiles knowing she's clocked you, “what are your gonna do about it big boy?”

You stare at her and then say, “fuck it meet me in the bathroom,”

Yunjin eyes raise and then she smiles and says, “okay. You're on,”

The two of you walk to the restroom and you notice there is a plush floor mat. You lead Yunjin to it and say, on your knees. Now”

You don't raise your voice or temper. Yunjin in an aroused stupor complies,

You undo your pants and your cock springs out. Yunjin smiles and says, “I'm about to change your life,”

You raise an eyebrow until Yunjin takes you into her mouth.

At first your unimpressed until she wraps her big pouty lips around you making a vaccum seal. You groan as you grab the wall behind her. She smirks and then she bobs her head three times. Her tongue swirls around your shaft and tip inside her mouth…

“Fuck! Yun,” you exclaim as she licks your frenululm before bobbing again two more times she breaks her hold leaving your spit slick cock open to the cold air. It twitches with anger as you stare at her

a trail of spit connects the two of you together leaving you staring at her eyes.

Yunjin smiles and says, “Since we're boyfriend girlfriend now, and I feel like you've never had a blowjob before I have a request,”

“What is it?” you say slightly irritated

Yunjin smiles and says “Call me mommy”

Her tone is even but her eyes are lethal. You stare at her for a moment trying to decide if it's worth it to address her. You sigh and say,

“You keep playing this game I'll make you my wife and a mommy for real,”

Yunjin laughed brightly hearing your challenge as you pulled up your pants.

You grabbed her hand and said “come on my friends should be here “mommy” your tone is teasing bordering on sarcastic.

Yunjin hates it but smiles regardless as she follows you back to the table

You settle back into your seats. The table is still just the two of you.

Yunjin glances toward the entrance once, then turns back to you with the expression of someone who’s already moved on from that particular topic.

“How do you feel about polyamory?”

You look at her. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just answer.”

“Personally?” You reach for your water glass. “Not really my thing. In practice.”

“But in theory.”

“In theory a lot of things sound interesting.”

She nods like that’s sufficient. “Okay. Because I have a friend — Japanese, based here — and she would absolutely lose her mind over you.” A beat. “In multiple senses.”

You set the glass down. “So you’re replacing me and we haven’t even ordered yet.”

“I’m not replacing you.” She turns in her chair to face you more fully, and there’s something unusually earnest trying to get through the smirk. “It’s just — you’re a lot. Like, as a person. You’re a lot. And I’ve had a crush on you for approximately forty minutes which I’m aware is insane, but here we are.” She gestures vaguely at the space between you. “So I’m saying — if you ever decide two women is something you want in your life, I will personally arrange it and I will be present.”

“That sounds like a significant logistical undertaking.”

“I promise it’s worth it.”

You look at her for a long moment. “I’ll think about it, Yun.”

“That’s all I ask.” She picks up her menu, fully composed again, like she didn’t just say any of that.

Dinner is easy.

Your friends arrive in a wave of noise and apologies, and Yunjin folds into the group like she’s been there the whole time — laughing at the right moments, asking the right questions, teasing you in front of people who immediately take notes. By the time the entrées land she has two of them in her corner unconditionally. The third holds out until dessert.

You watch it happen from your seat beside her and don’t say anything about it.

Outside, the night air has cooled. The group filters out in pairs, still talking. Yunjin falls into step beside you, shawl back around her shoulders, and waits until there’s enough distance before she says anything.

“Okay. Your place.”

You glance at her.

“I need to change,” she says simply. “And so do you. And then you’re coming with me.”

“To.”

She looks up at you with the most patient expression she’s managed all evening. “To meet my friend. The one who is going to love your ass.” She holds up a hand preemptively. “Both senses. We’ve established this.”

You reach your car. You open her door.

“You planned this before we even left the bar,” you say.

Yunjin gets in, smooths her dress, and looks up at you from the passenger seat with an expression of complete innocence.

“Drive, big guy.”

The two of you arrive back at your place where you change Yunjin smiled at the nerdy memorabilia which led her to saying “you know what?”

You look at her and say, “you wanna stay in?”

Yunjin nods