#hiori yo x black reader

[queenofallimagines]

Hiori yo x black reader

(A/N): was literally complaining bc like how is he black but there’s NO black readers??? But I found out who’s clogging up the blue lock tag😒And then I realized I can do it my fucking self lmao. HC him as Nigerian bc like we’re never gunna get any cultural background info on him bc they never tell us about the parents(unless it’s central to their backstory and even then they’re the main characters not their parents.) so I’m making up my own lore✨ his dad is Nigerian who immigrated to Japan and hiori very rarely sees his dads side of the family bc they live elsewhere and his parents don’t care about him knowing family he’s supposed to be their trophy

Hiori yo:

- okay so boom

- This happens in his blue lock era obviously

- His parents rarely let him play w kids bc he was always training if you peep in the manga

- Only has some idea of some form of cultural heritage

- He was blessed cursed with only his mothers genetics so looking more like her has him skirt around a lot of that racism

- He probably makes friends with all the other mixed kids but gets viscerally uncomfortable when he sees them getting micro-aggressed

- Makes him think twice about showing up to school with his hair not styled like his mom

- Spends 90% of his time gaming anyway so like he doesn’t have to go outside

- When he runs away to blue lock life starts to have color

- I think post U-20 arc he spends those two weeks at home hanging out with karasu because he’s not gunna let him sit inside and rot around his shitty parents for two weeks

- Karasu definitely introduces you to him

- You were one of his friends from school he used to chill with and he’s like you would be good for hiori

- Karasu 100% condones your bad influence like lmao he wants to see hiori be a MENACE to society

- He’s smirking in the background as you bring his inner ultra sadist out

- He messes up your hair and will laugh when you get mad

- “stoooop iiiiit you’re messing up my hair!”

- “aww does the princess not like their hair being touched?”

- “Not when I took a long time to do it this morning!”

- Will immediately get flustered if you say you like his hair

- hide the flat iron from him!!

- I feel like he’s lowkey insecure about usually being like the only black kid in the room

- And he speaks in a different accent than a lot of them?

- Yeah pack it up!

- *he doesn’t really think much of his appearance. he thinks he looks okay and he isn’t really confident about his skin complexion. he isn’t dark skin but he isn’t light skin either.*

- His chat Ai gave me that unprompted so it’s canon now sorry :/

- Yknow how boys will say the most traumatic shit out of nowhere?

- “do you really think that I’m pretty? even my skin complexion and everything?”

- “I sure do! Anyone who says differently is a colorist racist loser . There’s nothing wrong with you or your completion. Like you’re one of the only people who made me feel welcomed here are you fr?”

- Karasu is glaring at you though for having him make pale people jokes.

- He’s very lowkey about how snake like he is so he’s the “you can’t say that shit in public!” Friend, while you don’t care about getting cancelled😭

- “but please don’t let anyone the shade of printer paper make you feel bad about your melanin beloved.”

- “The snow roaches are usually too scared to try something because I’m tall:/“

- “WE ARE IN A CONNIVENCE STORE PEOPLE CAN HEAR YALL”

- he’s trying his best really but he’s just one crow😔

- Don’t let tea about his parents make it back to your ears bc it’s really on sight for that man AND that snow bunny ���

- “Does your dad ever like talk to you about his culture?? does he say anything outside of trying to make you into some star striker??”

- Mf just shrugs his shoulders.

- “not really. my parents don’t care about anything other than my success. they don’t care about my happiness or how i feel..”

- “Yo, baby ….. imma beat your parents ass😐 is your dad Nigerian? Bc that feels like textbook immigrant parent behavior.“

- “……. I REALLY don’t like how you knew that.”

- “My next guess would have been Guyanese.”

- Hes giggling tho bc I don’t think he really talked shit about his parents w nobody like REALLY really

- Just watching them fight 24/7 as a kid took a toll on my poor baby soul IK

- Spoiler for his backstory but I mean not really??

- His parents saying that if he didn’t become the best they would get a divorce made my jaw hit the stairs of hell

- ““you really know a lot about this kinda stuff?,,,,but yeah, nigerian parents are hella strict. they expect high grades from us and if we don’t reach those high grades, we’re basically disowned..”

- See me personally I have tattoos, colored hair and piercings and my mom fresh off the banana boat carribean

- “Like Dr umar said “you will be never get freedom unless you take it” It’s like a hostage situation!”

- “Is that how you have them long ass acrylics?”

- “….I took it😙”

- He will never bring you home bc you’re always 5 mins from punching his mom in the mouth and he really cannot handle that especially when he’s gone 24/7 in blue lock and can’t talk to you

- They don’t know you but know you’re a bad influence so they hate you from afar

- Very pro “traumatize your parents back” and karasu right there w you

- He’ll he can even scoop up yukumiya to be on demon time👀

- “hit em with the “what if I stop soccer?” And they have nowhere to run but just sit there seething because they need you.”

- “Right the cards are in your hands.”

- “…..Respectfully love, you’re a whole ass delinquent and karasu you’re a scammer. I’m not taking advice from people with active warrants😐”

- Now back on my bullshit

- He be so fine when he use metavision

- Like he knows that if he glances over at you during one of his games he’s gunna find you squirming in your seat

- Looks at you after he scores a goal every time and flashes you that shit eating grin

- Win or loose he’s getting his dick wet!!

- Have a safe word

- He’s never gunna try to push you past your limits in a way that will hurt you

- Buuuuut he is pretty mean

- Imagine that cute innocent looking face smiling down at you with his round doe eyes

- Calling you a dumb slut

- Man is a menace and probably gets a higher sex drive the more he fucks

- Not even out of like lust overtaking him he just will be randomly thinking about how he had you on your knees in this very locker room before

- And now feels the strong urge to split you open on his cock

- It’s fun for him like a game

- And he always wins

- Only way you can get him is to outsmart him but like that’s once in a blue moon so good luck Charlie😅

- Mans is 6”1 so he’s effortlessly manhandling you and giggling at how much your body is screaming for him

- “Shit, ya keep squeezing me like that and I won’t be able to pull out.”

- Again because he dosent have a high libido as a carnal thing certain NORMAL shit will set him off

- Like you was talking about the weather now he has you bent over the couch??

- Nicknames would be one

- You call him blueberry and he’s ready to go

- The cute look on your face and the smile he can see that’s reserved for him

- The way he can same the hearts in your eyes when you look at him

- He wants to ruin you and make you cry

- Edging is his go too thing

- Will do it until your grabbing at his hands begging him to let you come and he’s laughing his ass off

- “Why? ‘S real funny seeing you this pathetic.”

- He’s very mean in that soft sweet condescending way that pisses you off

- “Ow! Yo that hurt!”

- “Mmm, don’t care.”

- Bites you all over like you’re a chew toy

- Feel like he’s tied with rin and shidou for leaving marks

- He’s a cheeky little bastard so he will have you in public looking like a mess and he couldn’t be more innocent standing right next to you

- “You good?”

- “Yeah,karasu I’m fine.”

- “You sure because you’re limping right now.”

- And this fucker is there like ☺️☺️☺️

- Weakness is distracting him while gaming

- He’s very whiney if you suck him off while he’s gaming and has vc on

- Like he’s barely holding back his whimpers and wines as you’re head is buried between his thighs

- (Rin , nagi and him def game like I know they play Minecraft together)

- “Oi, hiori you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

- “M good.”

- He is fighting for his sanity!!

- Has locked the door a few times to keep you out

- Accidentally left the mic on when he thought the coast was clear and came HARD

- Rin will never EVER bring that shit up and is taking that secret to the grave

- Does get flustered when he sees you and hiori not-so-subtly sneaking off to have your hands all over each other

- Keeps that memory square in the back of his head to jack off to

- Hiori Yo is a very sadistic man with a lot of confidence

- So he has absolutely no qualms about fucking you in front of his teammates in the locker room

- Oh, the team walked in on him blowing your back out? Nothing is stoping them from showering and changing

- Shares you with isagi like that’s just what happens

- He wants to see the egoist be mean to you

- This has happened more than once and bastard München straight up knows if he’s nowhere to be found when they are heading back to the locker rooms

- He’s in there making you cry on his cock

- “Cmon, tell em how much you like creaming around my cock dollface.”

- Particularly of Kaiser is kicking attitude he’ll glare at him while you’re on your knees and dare him to try something

- Oh he don’t care about doing it in the pxg locker rooms either

- Shidou has unfortunately walked in on him sitting beside you on the ground pushing your head down so you can take Rin’s cock even deeper

- “Ne, Rin-Chan. Look at how I can see you in their throat.”

- Hiori if anything isn’t going to play by the rules or be fair about it

[quandledlngle69]

Black!Butler x Blue!Lock

☆ Content: How Blue!Lock boys would be as demon butlers and lords, + demon hound Shidou. 

☆ Characters: Micheal Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Itoshi Rin, Shidou Ryusei, Reo Mikage, Oliver Aiku, Itoshi Sae, Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Barou Shouei, Hiori Yo, Rensuke Kunigami + Wild!card kunigami, Karasu Tabio, Hyoma Chigiri, Alexis Ness. 

☆ Genre/Themes/Warnings: Mention of disabled reader and Chigiri in his part, demons, Victorian England, anime, blue lock x black butler, lords and nobles. Angst + slightly suggestive + manipulation + slight mentions of abuse.

☆ Pairing: Demon Butler!Character x Lord!Reader

Demon Butler!Reader x Lord!Character + Demon Hound!Shidou x Lord!Reader. 

☆ W.C. 3.1k

Micheal Kaiser could be both, considering his cocky and arrogant behaviour, he would be the perfect demon butler who simply has everything under control. And even though you both share a contract which means he is your servant until the end of your days, it doesn't mean he isnt the one pulling the strings. Although your contract states he has to help you achieve your goal, it doesn't mean he won't manipulate and gaslight you to do it his way. He is a centuries old demon after all, and you trust him fully, as he has never let you down, has he? Yet in the same breath, if you were his demon butler, you would have a headache for how many times you would be rolling your eyes. He truly fits the role of someone who wants and craves to be worshiped and have someone at his beck and call. He is hotheaded and cold, an arrogant, spoiled brat. Everything he does is with a purpose and it's fortunate you can keep up because–well, let's just say he has no use for useless pawns.

Nagi Seishiro would be a Lord. There's no question about it, he would be way too lazy to take care of himself, let alone serving someone left right and centre for the rest of their lives.  He would be used to the pampering, especially since he got that way from Reo, so it wouldn't be surprising he would have a butler do everything for him. The only reason you made a contract with him was due to his soul being full of the sin of the sloth, other than that, his soul would be worthless to you. He would be notoriously known as one of those noblemen you hear but you never see. He simply doesn't leave his estate unless he absolutely needs to. Any attempt to have him out of the doors of his manor for any mandatory events would be through bribery. Days are long and boring, your schedule never being fully filled, and you wonder if you should just kill him to end the torture to yourself.

Itoshi Rin would be a Lord. His aura of disdain and driven need and desperation to make his brother acknowledge him or become superior would have any demon following his scent. You were just quicker. It would be a concrete yet impulsive decision on his part. He would only see his butler as a pawn, yet in reality it's him that's the pawn in your game. It's hard to even get a sentence out of him, you had gotten used to the blunt and sour one–word replies. He is simply too blinded by his goal to see the consequences at the end of the game. Yet it almost makes your duties easier, knowing he’ll sacrifice anything without a fuss. He spends most of his days in his office, wanting to not be disturbed. He looks at you with hatred, as most humans would do with demons, yet at the end of the day, he’ll remember the one that came to him in his darkest hour, and he's afraid he’ll realise in due time it was a mistake.

Shidou Ryusei would be a Demon Hound. For some reason, he is one of the only demon hounds that can talk and is extremely intelligent. But do not be mistaken, he is not calm or collected at all. He thrives in complete chaos and simply doesn't care for social etiquette of the 1880’s or your reputation of being a higher class. He is simply a rabid dog you barely keep on a leash until you release him to create complete destruction. That's the whole reason he was able to sniff you out in the first place, because your soul had a malicious ache for chaos, destruction and violence. He had first come to you in the form of a scruffy doberman, watching the satisfaction on your face from burning down your orphanage. When you had managed to inherit back your dead parents estate, you had allowed him to follow you. When you found out what he truly was, you formed a contract for him to protect you. He is more of a guard dog than anything. It's more of you trying to keep him in check then the other way round, but he will obey you, as long as he gets to devour your soul. 

Reo Mikage could be both. He would be a perfect butler beside Barou. In his old life, he knew the importance of keeping up a reputation as a noble and how social etiquette works. Everything he does is with a precise eye and is perfect like a cut diamond. He leaves no room for error in his duties and would put any other demon butlers to shame. The reason he was so drawn to your soul was because you longed to be acknowledged by someone who left you in the past to better themselves. Whether it was a love, a friendship, or a family matter, your burning passion was what made Reo sign a contract with you. If Reo was the Lord, however, it would be almost the same story. His soul would burn with an ache not to be left behind, to show a person he truly cared about that he was worthy of being acknowledged, that was Nagi. Since Nagi had a contract, he didn't need Reo anymore. Which clearly shattered him, as he has a need to be depended on. You would be used to show Nagi that Reo is worthy of being acknowledged, and once that goal is fulfilled, his soul is all yours. 

Oliver Aiku would be a butler. In his past life, he gave up on making himself bloom and instead, turned to making those who may need him bloom instead, in his own twisted way. Your soul attracted him with your strong goals. No matter what they were, it was passionate enough to have him at your beck and call after signing a contract. You were almost surprised he wasn’t a succubus–though, with the way he shamelessly flirts with all types of women at balls and gatherings. You can count on your fingers and toes how many times you've had to pull him away by the ear to avoid your butler being whisked away for a night of fun. And don't think you're an exception–he’s handsy. In the aspects of his duties, he’ll let you take the lead most of the time, guiding you metaphorically with a firm hand on your lower back. He is the eyes that pick up the subtle obstacles or margins of error and quickly get rid of them, no matter what it takes or who's in his way. He is more casual, and not uptight like most Butlers are, but that doesn't mean he’ll let you off easy. He still needs that passion in your soul to desire devouring it, after all.

Itoshi Sae is both. Yet what is different from him, is that no matter what position he is in, you are always the pawn. And he doesn't hide it either, and there is nothing you can do. As a butler, there is a cold and unpleasant aura that always follows him. You will always be unsettled in his presence. Everything he does is with purpose, yet it's not because he cares, but is only doing it out of direct orders from you or is indirectly linked to the contract. Those who are looking to backstab or exploit you in any way will think twice when Sae is in your presence. He became aware of your soul as you drastically changed your dreams due to something soul shattering you couldn't come back from. It was almost like a reflection of himself, which peaked his interest. 

Yet if he was the Lord, he would use everything in his power to fulfil his goal, no matter what pawns he ends up losing. Sometimes even his plans are unpredictable to you, which makes this game even more entertaining. In aspects other than his goal, you spend a lot of time covering for his rude lack of manners and turning down the numerous letters asking for your Lord's hand in marriage.  He understands that you will stay by his side until the very end. And until then, the piercing gaze of his teal eyes will always make your eyes squint with desire to devour his soul. 

Isagi Yoichi would be a Lord. The growing obsessions of greed for more in his heart had your ears pricking up like a hound dog. His decision would be a long, dragged out process with hesitation like no other. You recognize that he is a clever human, and he won’t be swayed by tricks of any kind. At some point, you believed that you would never gain a contract with Isagi, but with a little more time and persuasive words, you were able to get him to agree to your terms. You are polite and sweet in front of others, making them believe there is nothing going on. You carried out his dirty work, helping Isagi do whatever it takes to achieve his goal, no matter who gets hurt in the process. Isagi’s soul is one in its purest form, something that abnormally hasn't been tainted by the darkness even with his Gluttony. Even though Isagi knows you're a demon, you go to great lengths to keep the most violence and bloodshed away from his eyes. The purer the soul, the sweeter it tastes. 

Meguru Bachira would be a Lord. You would be attracted by the loneliness in his soul for a true relationship, something he had felt heavily throughout his life. Something you can give him. It really wasn't that difficult to get him to sign the contract; humans are so fragile when they don't have each other, and clearly he felt it deeper than ever that day. Of course, you would sugarcoat the parts of devouring his soul but–doesn't he want a friend? You eliminate any threats, to his life or to the contract formed. Most days are spent playing games for children or chasing after Meguru playing tag. However you run into the real problems when the marriage proposals come in, and most are denied or taken back after meeting with him, which detriments his spirit even more. Even if everyone else in his life ends up leaving him, or turning on him for a reason out of his control, you will always be there. Even if you are the cause. How else are you supposed to keep the fire of loneliness in his soul sparked?

Barou Shouei would be a butler. And he scares you, if you were being honest. Although he cleans like the contract between you will cease to exist if he doesn't, he has a permanent scowl etched into his features. Even though he is a demon, he has a soft spot for animals and children. NO he will not let you put makeup on him (he will) and he will not hold your shopping bags for you (he most definitely will.)  Most people mistake him as your personal bodyguard with how big his frame is. And even more surprised at his domestic habits. And don’t bother trying to find a male suitor anytime soon, Barou will frighten them away, intentionally or not. He found your soul from the burning envy in your heart and the desire to be better and devour others, which in turn makes him want to devour your soul. He reminds you constantly that he is not your friend, while also simultaneously ironing fifty of your shirts over and over again to make sure there are zero creases. An amused smile forms on your face when he does say those words.

Yo Hiori would be a Lord. The pressure from his parents to marry the estranged girl from the other county would cause him to snap. He felt suffocated, almost drowning with this need of perfection and following a path that naturally didn't feel his own. On a cold night of despair, you came to his huddled form in the corner of his room, and whispered the sweetest promises of release and freedom. Everyone expected him to keep up the family line, but what happens when his parents die in a strange fire and he disappears, only to emerge a few months later with a personal butler. You still notice the uneasiness he feels that lingers when he’s around you, the air will always be full of unknown intentions.Occasionally, asks you about heaven and hell, demons and angels, and you tell him as much as you know, supplying his curiosity. You promise to fulfil his wish of freedom in this life, yet his soul will forever be bound to you. 

Rensuke Kunigami would be a Lord. Having his dreams crushed, simply realising he is not good enough to keep up with the world he wants to join, he crumples. Yet this is where you come in; you show him another chance, show him the light in which he can strive down, while you eat up the darkness that threatens to consume his light. You simply do his burdensome work as you live in the shadows. His family or friends don't see him much due to his obsession with chasing his dreams–and what kind of butler would you be if you couldn’t make excuses for something as simple as that? He trusts you to a certain extent, a deep part of him believes there is a catch–but there is none. That is, if you don't consider devouring his soul, the catch. 

Now, Wildcard Kunigami would be a butler. He notices your soul crumpled with the loss of your dreams, yet for you, this fate only fuels the burning desire to grab it back, no matter what it takes. He is blunt and open with you, he will work hard to make your dreams come true, in place for your soul. He will carry out whatever nasty work you want him to do with a quiet nod of his head. He is more in the headspace of a knight, working to do whatever it takes to protect you and your dreams. He doesn’t do pleasantries or politeness, only what he knows, which is loyalty and fairness. 

Karasu Tabito would be a butler. Yet, if you told anyone in the first place why you chose a contract with him, they would laugh. Even Tabito was amused by your reasons to form a contract. When people first see you both together, they assume he is your suitor by his handsome face and charming manner, which to your dislike, he entertains. You had to teach him (yes teach him, your butler) to try and speak with a posh accent, so he doesnt get mistaken for a commoner (it doesn't work, of course.) He can see himself in you with your cocky attitude and arrogant behavior, yet it hides the deep vulnerabilities and insecurities you have with yourself. He sees a reflection of himself in you when he was a mortal himself. You hastily shook his hand to form the contract when your soul had called to him. He had never met a mortal so amusing. It was clear you don't truly understand the depths of your agreement yet Tabito was satisfied with the arrangement. He protects your little secrets and fragile heart, and you give him your soul at the end of your life. 

Hyoma Chigiri would be both. If Chigiri was your Lord, be prepared for the restless nights, and frustration that emits off him. His permanently torn ACL triggered despair in his heart, making his soul deliciously wanted. There will be times of purposely spilled cups, plates, bowls, trashed rooms, and thrown insults. Yet if you couldn't handle all of those things, what kind of a butler would you be? At the estate, Chigiri would mostly be using a wheelchair, he mostly refuses to use anything but a cane when out interacting with society, as he doesn't want to be pitied on or seem as less. On his good days, he would be silent and his mind wandering. When he wants to be cheeky, or thinks you're being too slow with your duties, he’ll whack your ankle with his cane, an amused smile crossing his face when you lecture him about minding his manners.

If Chigiri was your butler, however, it would be for the same reasons. You were born with a leg deformity. A congenital limb defect that caused a limp which required a walking stick to help you keep stable. Ever since you were younger you had realised you were different from other kids. You couldn't run, do sports, or even perform basic tasks by yourself. Even finding a husband was impossible, even with your status. You were slowly isolated from others, including your family who gave you secret looks of disgust. It infuriated you, the burning hatred in your soul of being treated differently beckoned him to help you for a price. Chigiri will be your legs, your eyes, your brain and your body. He will do the physical things you can’t do, the physical manifestations of the burning pain you want to cause with the hands you can't do. You may not have the perfect body, but your soul is exquisite to him. 

Alexis Ness would be a butler. At the same time, he would be the most pathetic demon butler ever. A demon like him would thrive off being under someone's thumb then being the one in power. A soul so full of ego that it would almost be considered a god complex would have Ness’s tail wagging like a pitiful dog. If he wasn't a demon, he would have many scars on him inflicted by the abuse you cause. He seems to be bewitched by the fact you are far from a good person at all, and teething the edge of being an epitome of a spoiled brat. If you ever want someone to take out your frustration on, his uncanny smile will be compliant. You have only a handful of servants, as they either left due to your tyranny or because of the fact you stuck your nose up at them constantly. The rest were too afraid to leave or naturally had nowhere else to go. Ness would allow you to use him like a dirty cloth, but the minute someone else even tries to challenge or insult you, Ness reminds you why he really is a demon.

☆ Credits for dividers: @fukuonagirl @anitalenia @ioveartfilm

[saitamastamaticsoup]

Not to be dramatic but since hiori is blasian in canon I need black x readers asap🗣️ like we are DEF not getting any cultural background on this kid (because they just slid it in there like we weren’t gonna recognize in the first place)not that we have any background on any of these children’s parents but I think he should explain how he feels being mixed in Japan because it’s just really funny having these two in the exact same anime, and they are both black 

This is ABSOLUTELY hilarious 😭

Edit: so I’ve noticed a pattern of EVERY character looking like their mother and barely sharing any resemblance to their fathers so ig he gets a pass for being pale BUT there’s even more melaninated characters so let’s give him some sun too!!🥺

Respectfully; come the fuck on

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter four a whirlwind of chaos and laughter turns into something much more when Miss Journalist and Hiori Yo can't ignore the spark between them any longer. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint) masterlist

"And action!"

The marketing manager’s voice slices through the steady crackle of sizzling chicken nuggets.

You’re back in Bastard Munchen’s pristine kitchen. Instead of lounging by the marble island sharing a plate of pot stickers with the players, you’re seated across from Hiori Yo—your favorite football player turned late-night gaming buddy.

For someone who admitted to staying up late last night (because he had to try that newly released game he’s been raving on about), he looks annoyingly refreshed. 

And, frankly, annoyingly fine.

A small round table separates the two of you, modestly set for a casual meal for two, like something out of a cozy café. The kitchen hasn’t changed much for this setup, save for the table serving as an odd centerpiece amidst its sleek, curated kitchen backdrop. The savory aroma of frying chicken nuggets fills the air, mingling with a faint whiff of rain you’re convinced is coming from Hiori.

Your "date" shifts in his seat, snapping you out of your thoughts. He flashes you an easy smile—the kind that promises everything’s going to be just fine. Behind him, the camera crew hovers, accompanied by the marketing manager.

“Hi,” Hiori says softly, his voice charming you like a spell, as if this really is some kind of meet-cute.

“Hello,” you reply, stifling a laugh. But your lips betray you, curling into a smile you can’t quite suppress.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The silence melts into shared giggles—like kids conspiring over a secret.

And maybe, in a way, you are.

“Ya look great today,” Hiori says, his gaze unwavering. He doesn’t give your outfit a once-over; instead, his eyes stay locked on your face, as though that’s all he needs to confirm your beauty.

“Thanks,” you reply, looking at your outfit consciously. “It’s nice to see you in normal clothes for once.”

Your confidence feels natural today, and you prop your head in one hand, soaking in the sight of him.

“Hmm... Ya make it sound like I wear a costume every time we meet,” he chuckles, tugging at the sleeve of his navy bomber jacket. His eyes flick away for a moment, and you catch the faintest hint of red at the tips of his ears.

Instead of his usual training jersey or the black-and-gold Bastard München kit, Hiori wears a simple black shirt beneath the jacket. It’s a casual choice that shifts his entire aura. You’ve seen him countless times, on and off the field, but almost always in his professional gear.

In your eyes, Hiori Yo has always been the football superstar—someone you interact with because of work, someone you talk to more than most because of work. Someone who probably sees you as just another face in the sea of media professionals.

But today feels different. This little illusion—the cozy setup, the way he leans into the role of your "date"—lets you live out a fantasy. For a moment, it feels like it could be real under different circumstances.

“And you,” you tease, leaning in slightly, “it’s nice to see how you’d dress for a date.”

“I am on a date.” His brows furrow slightly. “We’re on a date.” His voice is calm, his words spoken like an unshakable truth.

For a fleeting moment, he’s not a football superstar, not leagues out of your reach.

He’s just a guy across the table, someone you can picture sharing lazy Saturday afternoons with. Someone you could almost believe is sitting here because of you—and only you.

Before you can reply, Gagamaru steps in with impeccable timing. He sets down a plate of crispy chicken nuggets and furikake fries between you. The golden nuggets glisten under the kitchen lights as he places a bottle of ketchup and two cans of soda on the table.

Right. The shoot.

Just last week, Bastard München’s marketing manager emailed you about joining a new off-season content project. With the players finally on their mid-season break, the team plans a video series to spotlight individual players—to test their broader appeal to fans and potential sponsors.

Their words, not yours.

And the concept of the video you’re being invited for? A one-on-one interview styled like a date, featuring none other than their genius midfielder, Hiori Yo.

Apparently, your last collaboration—the behind-the-scenes “day in the life” video courtesy of JFA—had sparked unexpected chemistry.

It caught fans' attention, stirring days of chatter about you, Hiori, and Bastard München. It isn’t “worldwide trending,” but the buzz is undeniable. The fans just can’t get enough of the surprising, romcom-like moments between you and Hiori.

A lucky journalist interacting with one of the most elusive players of his generation. Shared moments as if it's straight out of a movie.

The dream for every fangirl.

This shoot was an experiment to explore Hiori’s broader appeal, pairing his quiet, understated charm with your relatable, approachable vibe. It’s also an opportunity to spotlight one of their more introverted players, someone who avoids the public eye as much as he can.

Your editor doesn’t hesitate to green-light the project. She’s all-in, shuffling your deadlines and clearing your schedule to make it happen. And her enthusiasm doesn’t even stop there. She nudged you more than once to “just go for it” with the charming midfielder. 

Because, as she so eloquently puts it, “What’s there to lose?”.

And now here you are, playing your part.

Your version of casual date attire: an oversized light-blue button-down (coincidentally matching Hiori’s eyes) left open over a white square-neck cami. It’s nothing flashy, just enough to look the part of someone on a date with someone they like.

“Hmmm, since this is a date, I guess I should start with some date questions,” you say, pursing your lips in mock contemplation. You pull out a small stack of cards the marketing manager handed you earlier and place them neatly beside the plate of food, within reach of both of you.

According to her, the cards are a mix of fun tweets and generic icebreakers designed to spark lighthearted conversation.

Across the table, Hiori munches on furikake fries, watching you with a small smile. His gaze catches yours mid-bite, and you feel a faint flush rise to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you decide to jump right into the questions, catching him just as he pops another fry into his mouth.

“Who’s your favorite player?” you ask.

“Easy—Mesut Özil,” he answers without a second’s hesitation.

“Favorite food?”

“Salt-grilled Pacific saury. I even like the bitter parts.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Ready Player One.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really? I didn’t peg you for the geek type.”

Hiori grins, a little sheepish. “Well... I am. Watchin’ it got my otaku heart racin’.”

He leans back, the humor in his tone shifting to something softer. “Shouldn’t ya know that already? I talked yer ear off about Warhammer last time we played together.” He scratches the back of his neck, glancing away as though embarrassed by the admission.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “I didn’t realize it was at that level. I just thought, ‘Oh, Hiori's talking about his interests, that’s cool.’ I didn’t even know what Warhammer was until you brought it up.” You tighten your lips into a sheepish grin, waving your hands in exaggerated defense.

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head.

The moment is interrupted by a sharp cough off-screen. Both of you whip your heads toward the sound, eyes landing on someone in the crew.

“You guys play games together off hours?” someone asks, voice edged with curiosity.

“Yes?” you and Hiori answer simultaneously, far too quickly. Your voices carry the same nervous uncertainty, the shared “yes” echoing awkwardly between you and Hiori.

A beat of silence stretches, and you can feel the marketing manager’s eyes darting between the two of you, brimming with a curiosity you’re sure they won’t voice—at least not now.

As the buzz of the set picks up again, Hiori leans closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Guess we’re both not so good at keepin’ secrets, huh?”

You clear your throat and push forward with the next question.

“What’s your strength?”

“As a person or as a player?”

You pause briefly. “Both, if you can.”

He leans back, thoughtful. “I guess… my ability to see things from a broader perspective.”

“And your weakness?”

“Playin’ too much.” He shrugs lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up in it, I lose motivation for other stuff.”

You’re about to fire off another question when he raises a hand, laughing. “Whoa, slow down! This’s startin’ to feel like a job interview.”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “Oh, sorry! Force of habit—y’know, journalist mode.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your soda to cover your embarrassment.

Hiori gives you a honest to goodness smile, as if amused. “So, this’s ya gettin’ to know me, huh?”

You set the cards down with a huff, deciding to switch gears. Inhaling deeply, you exhale a dramatic sigh. “Soooo… what’s your type?”

“Type of what?” he asks teasingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Type of person, romantic partner, obviously.”

He tilts his head, giving the question some thought. “Someone who’s independent. I need space to do my own thing, especially when I’m gamin’. Ya know that already.” His gaze softens as it meets yours.

“But they should be there when it counts. Life as an athlete’s hectic—ya’ve seen how it is.”

You nod, pretending to jot down a mental note. “So… low-maintenance. Got it.”

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head. “Not low-maintenance—just someone who understands balance. And maybe someone who doesn’t mind long Monster Hunter sessions.” He smirks knowingly, and for a fleeting moment, the unspoken connection between you lingers in the air, understanding the inside joke.

Your bite your lips, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, that’s… oddly specific.”

Two months of Monster Hunter nights flash in your mind. Ever since Hiori casually suggested playing together, your evenings had been filled with wyvern hunts and co-op quests. He has an uncanny knack for strategy—always two steps ahead, always saving you when things got dicey.

And then there was that time he convinced you to try Nier: Automata. You’d never forget him backseating with a mixture of exasperation and amusement as you struggled to fend off machines as the stunning android 2B.

“No, no, dodge now! Okay, wait—parry—no, don’t roll off the edge!” His laughter still echoes in your mind.

Your expression softens as the memories linger, but you quickly rein yourself back into the present.

“Yer turn,” Hiori prompts, raising an eyebrow as if daring you. “What’s yer type?”

“Oh, uh…” You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, thinking. “I guess... someone kind, who can make me laugh. And…” You hesitate before adding, “Someone who respects my space and time, especially since I’m kind of a workaholic.”

Then, with a pointed glance, you add, “And someone who doesn’t put me on the spot during interviews.”

Hiori bursts out laughing, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Noted. I’ll behave.”

Before you can relax and skim through some of the cards, Hiori throws you a curveball. “What keeps ya goin’ when stuff gets rough?”

You blink, momentarily stunned by the weight of the question. His eyes lock on yours, searching. For a moment, you feel yourself slipping into those deep blue pools.

“Me? Oh, um…” You shift in your seat, unsure how to articulate your thoughts.

“I think it’s knowing I can tell stories that matter—stories that connect people.” You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s kind of a cliché, I know—”

“It's not,” Hiori interjects, his voice soft but firm. His hand brushes yours briefly on the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your fingertips. The sincerity in his gaze holds you in place.

“It shows ya care about what ya do. And that’s what counts, right?”

The warmth in his voice and the light touch of his fingers send heat creeping up your neck. You let the sensation linger for a beat before pulling your hand back, pretending to tuck a nonexistent stray hair behind your ear. The gesture does little to calm your racing thoughts.

Hiori continues, his expression contemplative. “I remember readin’ yer article.”

“Yeah?” You’re genuinely surprised he's bringing it up.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening. “The team was in a bad place back then. Greisner wasn’t even talkin' to anyone.” He chuckles awkwardly, and you catch a muffled, annoyed Oi! from somewhere in the background.

“We were playin’ like crap. Everyone could see it—fans, other teams… even us. Felt like it was us against the world.” His gaze flickers to the side, as if embarrassed by his own admission.

You hold your breath, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But then someone sent me yer article,” he continues. “At first, I thought, ‘Great, another roast piece.’ But it wasn’t. Ya didn’t tear us apart. Ya saw something in me—”

“In us,” he corrects himself, covering it with a cough.

“It reminded us someone out there was in our corner. That meant somethin’.”

The weight of his words leaves you momentarily speechless. Your hands fly to your mouth as if to contain your shock. “Wow, I had no idea... I’m just... glad I could help in some way.”

“Ya did. More than ya could possibly imagine,” he says simply, his tone carrying a quiet gratitude. “That article reminded us—even when things feel impossible, there’s always a way forward. Whether it’s in football or anything else, progress happens if ya keep trying. Little by little.” He pauses, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Ya told that story.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his words. You nod slowly, letting them sink in. “That’s... really... I, uh... That's means a lot, Hiori.”

He shrugs lightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if to downplay the moment. “It’s just how I try to see things.”

A playful glint returns to his eyes as he adds, “Plus, without it, I guess we wouldn’t be here. On this date. Together.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, leaving a warmth blooming in your chest.

Being a journalist has always felt like existing in a strange limbo.

You’re a faceless name, sending your thoughts out into a void, never quite knowing if your words resonate with anyone—or if they even make a difference. It was that wishful thinking, that quiet hope of connection, that drove you to pursue this career despite the doubts you faced years ago.

Hearing Hiori’s words now, realizing that your article didn’t just touch lives but changed them—his team’s and his—fills you with a sense of pride and fulfillment that you rarely allow yourself to feel. It might seem small to others, but to you, it’s everything.

Your gaze drifts to him, gratitude softening your features. His earlier touch still lingers on your fingertips, a faint reminder of the unspoken connection building between you.

I wonder if this is what it feels like... to be in the right place at the right time. To have something just... click.

You clear your throat, shaking the cards in your hand. Loosening up by rolling your shoulders and stretching your arms, a big smile betrays your nonchalance over what you’ve heard.

“Okay, moving on! These are fan questions—filtered and curated, of course.”

Hiori raises an eyebrow. “Curated, huh?”

You shuffle the cards with a sheepish grin and glance at the first one. Without thinking, you read it aloud:

“Hiori, your hands look really nice. Are they soft like how they look in camera?”

Hiori chuckles, holding up his hands as if presenting evidence. “Guess I gotta ask ya.”

“Wha—?!” Your jaw drops. “Me?”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Ya’ve shaken hands with me before, haventcha? So, what’s the verdict? Are they soft?”

You laugh nervously, feeling your face heat up. “I—I am not answering that!”

“C’mon, just settle it.” Hiori laughs, holding his hands out toward you.

Hesitant but unable to resist, you gingerly take his left hand and give it a light squeeze. Your fingers trace his palm as you try to compose your thoughts.

“They’re… huh… I’m surprised. They look soft, but they’re a little rough. Probably because of football, but—”

You stop mid-sentence as Hiori’s playful smile grows wider. Realizing he’s enjoying hearing your thoughts, you let out a dramatic sigh and turn toward the camera.

“They’re soft,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes for effect.

You quickly pick up the next card, only to have your eyes widen in shock. A nervous laugh escapes you as you read it silently, trying to decide whether to skip it.

“Oh, wow. This one’s… bold,” you mutter, clearing your throat.

Finally, you muster the courage to read it out loud: “Bet Hiori is a dom.”

Your voice drops to a whisper by the end, and you dart a glance at Hiori. His expression is a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do I… do we really have to answer this?” you ask, waving the card toward the marketing manager watching from the sidelines.

Hiori chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting into a teasing smile. “Ya already said it out loud. Too late to back out now.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I regret everything.”

Leaning closer, his voice drops to a playful murmur. “Whatcha think?”

Your head snaps up, and you feel your cheeks go impossibly hotter. “I—I am not answering that!” you stammer defensively.

Hiori leans back, feigning innocence, though his grin betrays him. “Suspicious. Very suspicious.”

Despite your flustered state, you blurt out, “Okay, fine! I guess you are a dom. An ultra sadist.” You pause for a second, biting your lip, wondering if you’ve said too much.

Did I really just say that out loud?

You can feel the heat rush to your face, but there's no going back now.

Hiori, caught mid-sip of his soda, chokes in surprise, coughing violently as he grabs for a tissue. You burst into laughter, hurriedly handing him more while apologizing between giggles.

“Sorry! Isagi told me to say it!” You point accusingly off-camera.

Hiori turns to see Isagi standing next to the monitor, a whiteboard in hand with Hiori = Ultra Sadist scrawled across it in big, bold letters. Behind him, Kurona, Raichi, and Igarashi are doubled over in laughter. Isagi gives an awkward thumbs-up, his boyish grin only making Hiori groan.

“M'going to have a long talk with him later,” he mutters under his breath, earning another round of laughter from you.

Eager to change the subject, you grab the next card, a smile lingering as you read aloud. “Ohh... This one’s fun... ‘Hiori Yo could read the phonebook to me, and I’d still swoon.’”

Tilting your head thoughtfully, you glance at him. “Now I kind of want to test that. Can you actually make a phonebook sound swoon-worthy?”

Hiori pauses in thought and sets his drink aside. His voice dips into a smooth, velvety tone as he says, “Tourist Information Center: 03-3201-3331. For general tourism inquiries, open from 9 AM to 5 PM.”

A small Oooooh escapes your lips. “That was way too good. Are you sure this isn’t your secret side hustle?” .

He chuckles, gaze soft but playful. “Think I should start a hotline? Late-night calls... reading lists... ASMR…” He pauses, his eyes flicking toward you with a teasing glint. “Or maybe something... more exclusive?”

The insinuation isn’t lost on you, and you chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, hoping the blush isn’t obvious.

“Maybe,” he replies casually in a singsong manner, his smile lingering as he props his face on his hands looking at you.

You take another bite of a chicken nugget, clearing your throat before reading the next card. “Can Hiori teach me football like he taught Y/N? Asking for a friend.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a playful grin. “Looks like you’re in high demand, Coach Hiori.”

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, he grins. “M'flattered, but I might already have a favorite student.”

Caught off guard, you blink. “Wait, me?”

His smirk widens as he nods. “Who else?”

You feel heat rise to your face but brush it off quickly. Flipping to the next card, you snort as you read aloud, “Hiori Yo x Miss Journalist content is my new religion. Bless Bastard München’s marketing team.”

You groan dramatically. “Bless them? I think they’re trying to embarrass me!”

Hiori only shrugs, “Or maybe they’re just helping us make memories.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,”

Letting out a small laugh, you glance at the next card. “Okay, here’s another one. Do you guys realize how much chemistry you have?”

Hiori’s lips curl into a faint smile as he looks at you. “Chemistry, huh? Whatcha think?”

Flustered, you glance away, focusing on the cards as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s not for me to say! I’m just reading the questions.”

“But yer the expert, aintcha?” Hiori leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Observing players, analyzing dynamics…”

You hesitate, heart fluttering at his unexpected intensity.

For a moment, you can’t help but notice how earnest he looks behind his boyish smile. His eyes are warm, his posture leaning in slightly as though waiting for your answer—and it makes the air between you feel charged.

“Well,” you say carefully, your voice quieter now, “I do think we have chemistry. I mean, we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t vibe, right?”

Grinning, you pick up the last nugget and offer it to him. His gaze follows your hand closely, and as he leans forward to take a bite, you forget just how tall he is and how he's able to reach you immediately,

The proximity catches you off guard, and his lips brush against your fingertips lightly. The brief contact sends a shiver through you, a subtle spark that lingers long after.

His smile widens, an innocent taunt in his expression, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath his teasing eyes.

For a moment, everything else fades into background.

Who knew he had such game?

But you don’t falter. Without breaking eye contact, you pop the rest into your mouth, making an exaggerated show of it. His eyes widen slightly, but that satisfied grin never leaves his face, his gaze still lingering on you as if the playful moment hadn’t quite ended.

“Y’know,” he says, settling back. “I almost didn’t do this. Not really a fan of the camera.”

“What made you reconsider?” you ask curiously, your tone light but intrigued.

“It’s work. I might get fired if I don’t do this occasionally, I guess,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for a better excuse.

A loud snort from the sidelines catches your attention.

“That's bullshit! Hiori immediately said yes when they told him it’s a date with you!” Isagi’s voice cuts through the room, and he doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach.

Behind him, Kurona and Raichi join in, while Ness and Kiyora peek from the hallway, clearly eavesdropping.

Hiori groans, muttering something about refusing to pass to Isagi in the next game unless he begs for forgiveness.

You smile, shaking your head at the chaos. 

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to the task at hand. The cameraman hands over a few more cards. With a glance at the marketing manager, who gestures for you to continue, you smile and read the next one aloud.

“I will riot if Hiori and Y/N don’t end up together. The ship has sailed whether they like it or not!”

You glance at Hiori with a mischievous smile. The urge to take your teasing to the next level is strong. You wanted to see how far this charade can go. Even if it's just for your own satisfaction.

“Wow, people are so invested. I feel responsible. How do we make sure this ship doesn’t sink?”

Hiori leans forward, his expression mock-serious, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, for starters, I think communication is key. Every ship needs a good captain and crew who trust each other.”

He pauses for effect, looking at you pointedly. “Think ya can handle being co-captain?”

Feigning deep thought, you tap your chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Co-captains have to work really closely together, and I’m not sure if you’re up to my standards.”

A playful gasp escapes him. “Not up to yer standards? I’ll have ya know I’m an excellent team player. Just ask Isagi.”

You both turn to Isagi, who’s still recovering from his earlier fit of laughter. He straightens up, grinning. “Oh, absolutely. Hiori’s great—when he’s not plotting how to leave me stranded on the field.”

“Not helping, Isagi,” Hiori mutters, though his smile doesn’t falter.

The playful tension draws a chorus of cheers and mock whistles from the team. Isagi cups his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Let’s gooo, ship of the year!”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you glance at Hiori. “Looks like the crew is on board.”

Hiori chuckles, leaning back with a satisfied grin that hints at something deeper. “Then it’s settled. This ship is unsinkable.”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” you exclaim, laughing. “That’s a total jinx!”

The room fills with laughter again, the easy energy between the two of you now impossible to miss. The air feels lighter, but there’s an undeniable current that flows between you, unspoken but clearly present.

With every word, every glance, it feels like you’re navigating uncharted waters together—one small step closer to the edge, yet never quite willing to jump in.

“Miss Journalist, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?” Hiori's eyes narrowing with a suspicious gleam. He’s planning something.

“Yes?” you answer, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

He leans forward, the innocent yet sly smile never leaving his face. “So, you don’t mind me asking—who’s your favorite player on Bastard Munchen?”

You roll your eyes but keep your playful tone, already ready to play along. “That’s a tough one, but I guess... I’d have to say... Gagamaru?”

“Really? Gagamaru?” Hiori laughs, a teasing edge to his voice. “No offense, Gagamaru.”

You shrug with a mischievous grin, trying to keep up the act. 

“That’s not what other people are telling me, though.” Hiori’s eyes twinkle with something unreadable as he pulls out his phone and swipes through it, then shows you the Winstagram picture of you wearing his jersey. 

Oh, dear lord.

You groan inwardly, but there’s no escaping it now. 

“Fine! You’re... up there,” you admit, laughing but feeling the blush creeping in. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, you continue, “But I’m sure the other guys won’t be too happy to hear that.”

Hiori’s grin widens, clearly enjoying himself. “S'okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

Before you can say anything more, Isagi shuffles over with a mischievous grin and hands Hiori a card. Hiori glances at it, his brow raising slightly before that sly smile stretches across his face. 

Holding it up, he reads aloud. “Okay, last card! Due to popular demand, we dare Hiori to ask the journalist out on camera.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor. “Popular demand? Who’s making these demands?”

Hiori doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans towards you, a playful smile on his lips, his gaze locked on you. “Should I?”

You try to laugh it off, waving your hands in mock protest. “You don’t have to entertain everything they write, you know!”

But his gaze never falters. In fact, it softens, turning a little more serious, as if he’s letting a moment of sincerity break through the playful tension. “Yeah, but... what if I want to?”

Your heart skips a beat. “W-wait,” you stammer, feeling your composure slip. “Are you serious?”

Hiori tries to close the distance a bit further, the air between you both growing warmer. “Dinner. Just us. No cameras. Whatcha think?”

You blink, entirely thrown off course, and quickly turn to the crew, desperately waving the cards in mock surrender. “C-can we cut this part out? Please?”

From off-screen, the marketing manager’s voice rings out in amusement. “Nope! This is gold—we’re keeping it.”

Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief filling you. “Why am I even here?” you mutter, half-laughing, half-horrified.

As the crew starts to wrap up, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The shoot has been a whirlwind of chaos and laughter—nothing like you expected. But in the midst of all the teasing and jokes, there have been moments.

Small, fleeting moments where the façade of “content shoot” cracks just enough to reveal something real. Something that makes your heart race.

And it scares you. Because as much as you’ve enjoyed... whatever this is, there’s that nagging thought at the back of your mind. This wasn’t part of the plan.

It wasn’t supposed to feel so... real.

For Hiori, it’s equally disarming. At first, this shoot was just another day on the job. But now, as he watches you—how you smile when you try to deflect a question, the way you talk about your work with such genuine passion, how you handle the “shipping” comments with a perfect blend of humor and grace—it hits him.

He’s drawn to you.

It’s not just the playful banter or the way you make him laugh. It’s the way you see things differently, the way you carry yourself with this unexpected blend of wit and intelligence, and how you’re not fazed by the chaos around you.

When you laugh, it’s not forced; it’s real. When you talk about your work, it’s not some canned response. It’s something you actually care about. He’s seen people like you before, but not like this. Not in a way that makes him feel this... interested.

There’s something about the way you navigate the awkward moments, how you’re not afraid to call him out or laugh at his expense, that makes him want to know more. It’s as if, for the first time in a long time, someone has seen beyond his persona—beyond Hiori Yo the athlete—and into the person he is.

And he likes what he sees.

As you gather your things, Hiori stands, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as if the moment has only just begun. The air between you both feels different now—lighter, yet somehow more significant.

For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s in control, but also... a little unsure. And that feeling, surprisingly, excites him.

“So,” he says, his voice casual but his gaze never wavering from yours, “about that dinner...”

You look up at him, still flustered, but a faint smile creeping onto your lips. You try to deflect, make it sound casual. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

But his eyes are different now—softer, more sincere. “Not a chance.”

And in that moment, you see it. You see the shift in him, in the way he looks at you now—not as another journalist, but as someone he genuinely wants to know beyond the surface.

For a second, you can’t find the words. All you can do is laugh softly, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you shake your head.

He’s not asking because of a dare or because of a camera. It’s something real, something unspoken but undeniable. And for the first time today, you let yourself stop overthinking. You let yourself just feel the moment.

“Sure, why not?”

Maybe, just maybe, letting your guard down isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

amari's notes: i was kicking, giggling and smiling alone like crazy writing this! I really think these two have a great balance—neither too shy nor too teasing, just kind of testing the waters and seeing where things go. I’m here for it! If you’re up for it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[tearfuly]

❒ CERONE/LAVEN

REQUESTS ARE... closed!

any pronouns. 18. multifandom. wasian (thai-american.) infp-t. april 23. taurus. black butler. twst wonderland. blue lock. sanrio boys. tgcf. mdzs. 2ha. kny. naruto shippuden. akuneko/black butler with devil cat. hyponosis mic. music addict. michikatsu tsugikuni, deuce spade, and chris prince lover.

CAUTION: I'll be writing both NSFW and SFW so if you're not comfortable with that, go find other authors to read. I also write about my ocs usually.

WHAT I WILL WRITE: NSFW, SFW, angst, fluff, and maybe headcannons (?). I'll mostly write female readers or gender neutral since that's what I'm most comfortable with.

WHAT I WON'T WRITE: pedophilia, beastiality, necrophilia, r--pe, incest, sa, sexual harrassment, minor x adult, bully x bully's victim, etc. I won't write anything that I'm uncomfortable with or that's messed up.

DNI if you're a weirdo! <3

KINNIES . . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO, CATER DIAMOND, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, ACE TRAPPOLA, epel felmier, deuce spade, sebek zigvolt, leona kingscholar, malleus draconia, idia shroud, DOPPO KANNONZAKA, RAMUDA AMEMURA, hifumi izanami, xie lian, ALEXIS NESS, KURONA RANZE, HIORI YO, MIKAGE REO, SEISHIRO NAGI, nanase nijiro, tobirama senju, HASHIRAMA SENJU, WEI WUXIAN, WEN NING, JIANG CHENG, nie huaisang, MITSURI KANROJI, MUICHIRO TOKITO, TSUGIKUNI YORIICHI, TOMIOKA GIYUU, sanemi shinazugawa, and ryo nishima.

NOTE: I don't write if someone's pressuring/forcing me.

[shmpxx]

“ i take her life force, i gave her O’s “ !

— MIA ✰ SHE/HER ✰ TWENTY ✰ BLACK

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ★ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏! ☆ | ★ 𝘽𝙔𝙁/𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙀𝙎! ☆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

→RECENT : his true colors (hiori yo x fem! reader)

✭ +18 NSFW & DARK CONTENT BLOG! ✭

© SHMPXX — do not share my writing / work on any platform, copy, modify or translate. — ❦.

[queenofallimagines]

Blue Lock boys and having a S/O who has a sex toy collection

A/N: This is extremely self indulgent and came to me while browsing the internet. Part one of 2 and These are also all real toys so if you know exactly what I’m talking about lmao kudos to you✌🏿

Isagi:

- lmao oh boy

- Brand new to this world

- Only has the blue flesh light you got him as a joke for Christmas

- He uses it more often than he’d like to admit…

- So when he comes to your place and he’s in the mood to get nasty

- You gotta hold his hand bc he’s gunna be a little nervous

- You ask him if he’s cool with toys and he’s like ofc

- Very excited to see what you use to make yourself feel good

- Then he is taken aback to see a box of sex toys ORGANIZED BY COLOR

- “We in for a more rough mood today or like a quick thing?”

- “YOU USE THEM FOR DIFFERENT SCENES??”

- Let him take a look through your treasure chest(pun intended)

- And he’s like 🙂 bc how does he use that

- “So whats this?? It’s like flat but it has silicone flowers on the top??”

- “Oh that’s a grinder you strap it to a pillow”

- “….and it’s supposed to be green and blue?”

- “The colors on this one were pretty 😤 aesthetic matters too!”

- Best way is to just dive in and let him test out each one

- His favorite so far is this pretty little one called CLAUDETTE and he likes grinding on it while he kisses you and fucking into it

- Likes how the colors look all funky and fun

- “Is that-“

- “A football colored one yes it is.”

- “…..you didn’t have this before you met me did you?”

- “Listen it’s not MY fault that you be away on games a lot and this just so happened to be in your girth!”

- He will indulge you and do those dick mold cast things and will demand to see videos of you fucking yourself with it when he’s away

- Nothing would make him rush home faster than seeing a video of you moaning all pretty in nothing but a spare jersey of his bounding up and down on an exact replica of his cock begging him to hurry home

- Fuck the game he’s on the first fight back to Japan IMMEDIATELY

- LOVES to use them in punishments!

- When you’re acting all bratty he’ll pretend he’s not on his very last nerve

- Not super good at controlling his true emotions but when he’s calling you pet names making you feel all flustered can you really tell he’s upset?

- So when he flips a switch and tells you to “hold fucking still or I’ll tie your hands to the headboard” and he’s in between your legs holding you down it’s definitely a surprise

- Has one of the vibes that are controlled by phone

- He’s not so cruel as take you for a stroll in public

- (Also he really doesn’t want to get slammed with a public indecency charge because you can’t keep quiet)

- He’ll make you wear it as he goes about his business in the house

- Ignoring you without a care in the world as he’s relaxing on the couch and you’re begging him to bend you over anything

- “Hm? I didn’t hear a ‘I’m sorry for being a brat Yoichi’ so all that crying ain’t doing nothing”

- He has really good control when he’s pissed

- Usually that glassy eyed look while begging him to ruin you would be enough to have him on you like a dog in heat

- Buuuuuy unfortunate for you upset yoichi is some cold

- He’s literally not even flinching as you grind in his thigh making a mess all over his pants

- Rolling his eyes before shooting you the most annoyed look

- “You gunna keep making a mess on my pants or you going to fucking apologize already?”

- “I-I’m sorry Yoichi… please I need you so bad.”

- “Fucking finally.”

- Throws your legs over his shoulders but he’s still mad so he’s gunna edge and then overstimulate you before he even pulls his cock out

Nagi:

- oh he’s so silly

- Like he’s definitely like??

- Probably accidentally finds your stash before YOU show him

- “Oi, what’s this thing over here?”

- And you walk in and he’s messing w a silicone octopus cockring

- Boy if you don’t stay out my mf closet-

- Wants you to show him all the cool weird stuff you have

- “How do you even use this?”

- “Like any other toy???”

- “This tentacle is NOT like a regular sex toy.”

- Does it again by laying down on some of your stuffies and sees one w a obvious zipper

- Opens it to see a dildo inside

- “Why is this IN here?”

- “So nosey mfs like YOU don’t just come in my room and find my shit.”

- “…..that’s fair.”

- His fav for you to use on him is this gold and grey silicone stroker that has skin like texture

- When he’s too lazy to move he likes you being on top of him kissing and biting his neck while you slowly move the toy on his cock

- Will have him squirming and moaning loud as hell like you’ve never seen before

- Nagi isn’t the most vocal but he’s moaning like a pornstar

- “Ohhhh fuuuck pretty keep stroking me like that.”

- No better way to get him to fuck you like you want then to slow stroke him with a fleshlight or stroker

- Asks you to make a cast of your pussy

- When you actually make him one it’s like never brought up again until one night you get a text around 2am a few hours before nagi is set to touchdown back in Japan

- Of him fucking it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do

- Not sure who the fuck recorded that for him🤨 bc it’s too good and so are the angles to be a shaky one handed quick video

- Moans about how he can’t wait to feel you cream on his cock

- As the most obscene noises play from your speakers with the image of seishiro fucking into a fleshlight of your likeness all messy with lube and cum

- From the way the video starts off he had to have been at it for a while already

- You catch a glimpse of his hazy eyes as he’s mercilessly pounding into the toy

- When the video ends you get another text from him

- ‘Just got out the airport be home in 25’

Hiori:

- you’d think he’d be like weirded out

- Or confused

- Nah

- He’s seen all the gamer porn there is to see

- Monster and fantasy themed sex toys are a walk in the park

- “Woah, they like make dragon dicks that you can actually ride?”

- Favorites are Ophiuchus the Forgotten, Spyro Slim, and the twilight Moon

- He likes textures so anything with more ridges and bumps the better!

- Likes ones that seem normal. He’s a sneaky fucker so hidden in plain sight is great

- Like oh you thought this was a regular lipstick? Nope! A bullet vibe

- Has like 6 of these in your purse at all times

- Annoying as will pull a “hey can I talk to ya for a sec?”

- And then lead you into a secluded area and shove a toy in you while having his mouth do the heavy lifting

- “Mmm~ taste better when you’re this scared.”

- Someone get his ass 🙄😒

- Let’s you fuck him but like you’re a service top at most

- Not very try willing to give up power because that means he looses the game

- Will tie you up and ride you

- Puts on his most slutty performance and really lets himself get whiny

- As soon as he unties you it’s a chance to get him

- Like oh so anyway we’re not done🥰 now you can’t touch

- Will send you links to stores asking you what you think

- “Check out this dark souls one”

- “Yo, baby who the FUCK is that going to fit inside”

- “:((( but it glows in the dark”

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter five A win turns bittersweet for Hiori when the person he wants to share it with the most seems just out of reach—as he sees Miss Journalist running towards someone else. chapter five pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, hurt/comfort masterlist

The camera zooms in on Hiori, his face glistening with sweat as he cards a hand through his hair, the other planted on his hip. The stadium is packed, buzzing with energy, each cheer reverberating like a pulse through the field.

This wasn’t just another mid-season game. It was Bastard München’s chance at redemption after three consecutive losses to Manshine City earlier this season. Gold and black jerseys dominated the stands, their presence louder, prouder than ever.

It’s the second half, Bastard München leading 2-1. A stark contrast to their past matches. The team plays with intent, every move precise, every pass calculated. 

On the field, Mikage Reo sprints across the pitch, ball in his possession, Chigiri Hyouma shadowing him like a predator ready to strike. On the far side, Nagi Seishirou lingers near the goalpost, waiting, ever the silent threat. Isagi and Kurona track him closely. While Agi zones out Kunigami and Chris Prince weaves in the background.

Reo gets cornered by Geisner and Yukimiya, but he’s quick on his feet. A step over, a feint, and he’s past them, sending the ball to Swift. Swift barely hesitates before passing to Nagi, who traps it effortlessly. 

Then you see it. A cyan streak racing toward the goal, as if it’s been anticipating this exact moment. 

Hiori.

Nagi fires off a 2-Stage Fake volley shot, the ball cutting right between Isagi and Ness. But Hiori’s there—anticipating, intercepting. His kick connects with the ball a fraction of a second before it reaches Gagamaru.

The crowd goes crazy. 

Hiori’s block keeps Manshine City from tying the score.

The camera lands on an unnerved Nagi, his expression neutral, save for the way he wipes the sweat off his face—a small tell of frustration. Then it shifts back to Hiori, engulfed in a bear hug from Gagamaru while Isagi jumps onto his back. A wide smile breaks across Hiori’s face.

That smile. That goddamn smile. That laughter you can still hear in your head, hearty and full.

It reminds you of the Hiori from that “date.” The one the fans loved. The one where the ship officially sailed.

People love the two of you together—the cute journalist and the rising Bastard München midfielder. A rom-com come to life.

You’ve replayed that video a dozen times when no one’s around. It’s silly, really, how much it made you smile. Everything about it—the matching outfits, the effortless chemistry—felt so natural.

Hiori could be a bit of a tease (you knew that all too well when you play games together), but outside of those sessions, you haven’t expected him to have this kind of effect. Especially on you. 

And the Bastard München marketing team really did a good job in editing the video. Everything was so perfect.

It wasn’t scripted, but it felt too perfect to be real.

And you just can’t believe it. 

“So… about that dinner.” His words still ring in your ears. 

For days, it was all anyone talked about—the love story of the season, unfolding before their eyes.

Ship of the year, Isagi had joked.

Or so you thought.

Because the date never happened. 

With the mid-season kicking off, Hiori was busier than ever. His schedule filled with training, matches, and media appearances. His face is everywhere—billboards, ads, social media feeds. Thanks to that video, his popularity skyrocketed.

And you? You watched it all unfold from the sidelines.

The viral hype surrounding your supposed “ship” cooled off as quickly as it had ignited. The whirlwind fantasy of “what could’ve been” faded into silence, replaced by the steady march of reality. 

Your reality. Back to your mundane, normal life.

You and Hiori still kept in touch—sporadic messages, occasional gaming nights here and there. But the texts grew shorter, the gaming nights even rarer. And eventually, your once-familiar encounters on the field, where work and personal lives blurred, became a distant memory. 

But both of you still promised to go out though. At least, you said you would. 

The details? As vague as it can be. 

And you don’t blame Hiori. He’s an athlete, a rising star with the world at his feet. And you’re…

You’re just another journalist.

A lucky journalist who happened to ride the Bastard München bandwagon at the right time. A lucky journalist, but still—a forgettable one nonetheless.

Hiori wasn’t ghosting you; you knew that much. No matter how short your conversations are, he always made an effort to check in, even if it was just a quick text. 

hiori_yo23: saw this cute 2B n 9S keychains, should we get matching ones?

yn_offthepage: ooh i want 9S if ever u do get a pair

hiori_yo23: coz he reminds ya of me? 

yn_offthepage: no coz u like 2B so much lol

But it didn’t change the fact that he felt unreachable.

It’s not helping that Hiori seems omnipresent everywhere you go. He was everywhere, just not where you could actually reach him.

I’m not his girlfriend. I shouldn’t be… acting like this. Complaining like I am one. God, pull it together.

Not a girlfriend. Maybe a friend. Not a workmate. Just… someone he sees occasionally because of work. Someone he plays with sometimes.

We were like planets in the same orbit, drawn close for a moment before drifting apart again. 

What are we, even?

The question pops into your head, but you shake it off. Immature, you think. You’re an adult. You shouldn’t even be bothered by this... situationship.

Or whatever this is. 

“Are you dating that football player?” your mom asked one night she called, her tone dripping with the kind of suspicion she reserved for jocks. Her disdain for “jocks” had roots in her own teenage experiences with their womanizing antics, and now, you were caught in her crosshairs.

“She could still date him and not get hitched, you know,” your dad interjected with the air of someone offering sage advice. “It’d be great for her career. Maybe she could ditch that journalism gig and do something worthwhile—like becoming a news anchor. Or, hey, one of those influencer girlfriends. Then dump him once you’re famous enough.”

Your dad’s pragmatism was somehow more insulting than your mom’s cynicism.

As if your worth was measured by clout. As if everything you’d worked for—the late nights, the endless rewrites, the constant grind—meant nothing unless you traded it for likes and followers.

And it wasn’t just your parents.

Even at work, the whispers about Hiori followed you like a shadow.

“You’re still writing about him?” a colleague asks, her tone more pointed than curious.

“He’s just like the others,” your entertainment writer deskmate whispers, her voice heavy with skepticism. “Calm, cool, collected? Please. That’s just PR. His real colors will show soon enough.”

Another adds, “It’s good you’re not focusing on him too much. Don’t want people thinking you’re biased, right?”

The senior sports columnist across from you popps his bubble gum loudly, leaning on your desk divider with the casual arrogance of someone who believed his opinion mattered most. 

Ugh, men. 

“You know you should really diversify your coverage. It’s better for your career. Otherwise, you’re gonna get typecasted as ‘that Bastard München journalist’.”

His words hits like a jab.

“I’m not ‘that Bastard München journalist,’” you mutters, fingers pounding the keyboard harder than necessary. “I’m just a journalist.”

He grins, ignoring your simmering frustration as he shoves his phone in your face. “Are you, though? Look.”

The screen blazed bright with comment after comment:

Bastard München fan journalist.

The lucky Bastard München groupie.

She’s not even trying to hide her bias.

Is she really using Hiori Yo to clout chase?

We’ve been fans of Hiori before her. We were here first, get in line!

Your heart sinks.

Was that how people saw me?

Your face burns as you turn your attention back to the screen, pretending to ignore him. The article you’re working on blur before your eyes, the once-familiar rhythm of writing now disrupted by a torrent of doubt.

Were they right?

Had I reduced myself to this?

Your mind scramble for rebuttals. 

I was doing my job, wasn’t I? Covering one of the most exciting teams in football. So what if I focused on Bastard München? They were newsworthy.

You press your fingers to your temples, willing the doubts to fade. But instead, they echo louder, eating you up.

And Hiori… Hiori isn't here to make it better. Not that you need him to feel better.

He’s out there, shining brighter than ever, while you sit here, questioning every choice that has led you to this moment.

A thunderous roar from the crowd snaps you out of your spiral, grounding you in the present. The energy of the stadium floods your senses as your gaze darts back to the field.

Hiori executes a perfect triple nutmeg pass, weaving through three Manshine City defenders and sending the ball cleanly to Ness. Chigiri immediately takes off, chasing Ness towards the goal. His relentless speed forces Ness into a corner, where Agi and Nishioka intercepts snatching possession and launching the ball hard toward Reo.

But Reo barely has time to react before Kurona swoops in, intercepting it with precision. The planetary hotline combo snaps into action as Kurona passes to Isagi, who then feeds it to Yukimiya. With laser focus, Yukimiya unleashes his gyro shot, a powerful arc that soars into the net, leaving the goalie to dust.

3–1.

The crowd erupts into cheers, the roar echoing through the stadium as the timer sits at the last 30 seconds. Hiori quickly runs the numbers in his head. Even if Manshine somehow manages to score again, they’d still lose. 

This game’s ours.

Still, he could feel the hunger burning in every player’s eyes—both Bastard München’s and Manshine City’s. These weren’t players who’d give up, no matter the odds.

Agi sets the ball for kickoff, his gaze cutting briefly to Nagi, their team’s last hope for a miracle. They’ll try for a Hail Mary hat trick, Hiori thinks, already bracing himself.

The whistle blows, and Agi launches the ball into a high, elegant arc. Nagi surges forward, his strides long and smooth. Chigiri was right on him, but Hiori follows close behind, his longer legs eating up the distance.

“Thirty seconds left, princess,” Hiori spats, pushing himself to match Chigiri’s blistering pace. The red-haired panther barely glances his way, jaw tight with determination.

“Beat it, genius,” Chigiri snaps, his voice laced with exhaustion and irritation. His movements are sharp but increasingly frantic.

The ball is still far from the goal—at least 40 meters out. With 15 seconds left, Nagi traps the ball with his chest casually, making it look effortless. In the same motion, he turns and strikes it with all his power.

The ball beams through the air toward the goal, but Gagamaru is ready. He leaps high, his frame cutting off the angle, and catches it cleanly.

The buzzer roars to life, and the crowd explodes in celebration. Bastard München has won.

As his teammates began celebrating, Hiori couldn’t help but think about you. 

Their number one fan. His number fan, he’d like to think. 

He jogs toward the bench, already imagining telling you about the game.

But before he could reach the dugout, reporters swarm the players, including him, microphones and cameras in every direction. 

He tries to scan the crowd, his height doing him no favors in the chaos. His eyes dart between Manshine City and Bastard München’s players, the reporters, and the fans. Isagi and Yukimiya are already being cornered. Some of them make their way to him and Ness. None of them are you.

Where are ya?

Surely, ya wouldn’t wanna miss this win from yer favorite team, right? Hiori thinks. 

But then, he sees you. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees you jogging from the other side of the field, your notebook in hand. Your hair is in a high ponytail, wearing a hoodie and your cute leggings you wore when he taught you how to dribble. 

Relief washes over him, and for a moment, everything else fades.

You’re smiling as you jog towards his direction. Or so he thought.

He was about to break off from the current crowd of reporters and players around him just to get to you. His mouth opens to call your name but the words get stuck in his throat.

A reporter is already speaking to him, their voice barely registering to him. Everything feels distant—muted, as though the stadium has gone silent. All he can see is you.

Then you run right past the Bastard München bench. 

Past him. 

Without even a glance in his direction.

Hiori freezes. 

You’re running towards Manshine City’s side. Jogging to their dugout. Towards Nagi Seishirou.

Fuck. 

“Hiori? Hiori?” The reporter asks, pulling him back to this moment.

He blinks, trying to focus, but his thoughts splinter and scatter as his gaze locks on you again. You’ve stopped in front of Nagi, and his face lights up just a bit with that sheepish grin he’s perfected. 

“Huh? Whatcha say?” Hiori mutters distractedly, his voice hollow.

The reporter raises an eyebrow but repeats the question patiently. “How does it feel to avenge your loss against Manshine City with such a strong win today?”

Hiori barely hears it. Or more like he chooses not to. His eyes flick back to you

You’re standing in front of Nagi, notebook in hand, your body language relaxed, your posture open. Nagi, in turn, leans forward towards you, towering over you like how he does. His casual confidence makes the scene look infuriatingly effortless. 

He seems comfortable, even amused by your questions, and the sight only made the knot in Hiori’s stomach tighten.

Then Nagi grins—wide, genuine—and you laugh.

Hiori can’t remember the last time he’s seen you laugh like that. Weeks, maybe?

It’s been weeks since he’s seen you in person.

Ness nudges him, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Hiori? You good?”

His gaze stays on you and Nagi. The way Nagi is leaning slightly closer, his posture hunched but relaxed, like he has all the time in the world. For you. 

Nagi’s no longer the tall lanky guy that he was when they were in Blue Lock. Just like him, he’s grown more mature, his body more toned, exuding way more confidence in ways Hiori can’t.

Is Manshine City yer new assignment now?

Hiori knows you’ve interviewed countless players. He’s seen you talk to Otoya once, for fuck’s sake—watched as you deftly shut him down when he tried flirting. He’s never thought twice about it before.

But this is different.

This is Nagi Seishirou. 

A player Hiori knows is brilliant. A genius, even. Someone who never wavers, someone who’s always striving for the top.

Someone better than him.

“Hiori’s a little out of it today,” Ness interjects smoothly, stepping in when the silence stretches too long. He gives the reporter an easy, apologetic smile. “Why don’t you talk to Kurona or Grim instead? They’ve got great insights about the game.”

Before the reporter can respond, Ness pulls Hiori aside, his hand firm on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ness asks under his breath, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern. He notices him glancing towards the direction of the other team. 

Hiori doesn’t answer. He can’t. His mind is still spinning with the image of you and Nagi.

You hadn’t even looked at him. Or at least tried to look for him in the crowd.

Is this wishful thinking? Am I reading things wrong?

And then, a sharp ache surfaces, one that feels so familiar. He remembers his parents, the endless lectures about how playing midfield was a waste of his potential. How he should’ve been a forward—the star, the one who stands out. The usual constant comparisons.

Not enough. He’s never enough.

Fuck. Shouldn’t be thinking like this. M’not her boyfriend. 

Ness doesn’t press further, instead, he steers Hiori toward the edge of the crowd. But the bitter taste lingers, sharp and unrelenting.

Hiori’s never known what jealousy feels like.

But now he does.

And it tastes fucking awful.

You try not to think about Hiori as you interviewed Nagi. But it was nearly impossible to ignore him. 

He is just there. 

Just a few meters away on the same field, surrounded by teammates and reporters, his hair catching the light like a beacon pulling your gaze.

You told yourself you wouldn’t look. 

Not now. Focus. This isn’t the time.

But this is the only chance you’d have to see him, yet here you are, prioritizing work over what your heart wants. Typical. Your editor had assigned you to Manshine City for now, and that meant professionalism came first. Your feelings? Irrelevant.

Stupid dumb, stupid feelings.

Your hands tremble slightly as you adjust your notebook. No amount of distraction could dull the ache of not being able to walk up to him and just… you know, talk.

Pushing the thought down, you force a polite smile and direct your attention to Manshine City’s star forward, Nagi Seishirou.

“Great game today, and thanks for your time,” you say, your voice louder than usual to drown out the roar of the crowd. “That last kick—it might seem futile to some people, but it definitely wasn’t. Would you say it’s about making a statement, even in the face of a loss?”

Nagi scratches the back of his neck, his expression softening as if you’d touched on something he rarely thought about. “Well… yeah. I knew we were gonna lose, but the clock was still ticking. If I can make a goal, I’ll make a goal. 

“It’s cringe, if you think about it but yeah. But it doesn’t matter if it seems pointless.”, he adds. He leans in slightly, lowering his head so he could hear you better. 

His closeness catches you off guard, conscious of the distance. You step back instinctively, masking it by glancing at your notes. Cameras flash nearby, their shutters loud in the tense, post-game air.

“That makes sense,” you reply, keeping your tone even. “It’s not over till it’s over, right?”

He nods, but the slouch in his shoulders betrays his exhaustion. Maybe it wasn’t just you; maybe it was the weight of the loss pressing down on him. You’ve seen it before—players trying to put on a brave face for the cameras.

Still, a part of you wonders what Hiori might’ve said in Nagi’s place. 

Would he have shrugged it off, teasing you instead? Or would he have stared you down with that thoughtful gaze, saying something far deeper than you expected?

You push the thought away, burying it like all the way down.

Before you could ask another question, an arm drapes over Nagi’s shoulder, and Reo appears beside him, his easy grin on full blast. “Hey, aren’t you the journalist who interviewed Bastard München last time? The one who’s a Hiori fan?”

Your heart drops. For a moment, you feel your world stop. 

Heat surges to your cheeks as you force a tight-lipped smile. You hope the grass would swallow you whole, or at least that the cameras aren’t catching this.

“Uh… yeah,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Reo chuckles, his energy casual and teasing. “Well, lucky us, huh? Maybe you’ll be our lucky charm next time.”

You know it’s just a joke, but the words land like a punch in the gut. The implication lingers—like you aren’t here because of your professionalism but because of someone.

Before you could respond, Chigiri swoops in, cutting through the tension with a flick of his hand.

“Sorry about Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb here,” he gestures to Reo and Nagi. “This one”—he jabs a thumb at Reo—“doesn’t know when to shut up, and that one”—he points to Nagi—“doesn’t know he’s being rude to the nice journalist.”

You let out a nervous laugh, grateful for the interruption.

“It’s okay,” you close your notebook, a small considerate smile on your lips. “Interviews after a loss aren’t easy for anyone.”

“Hopefully, you’ll interview us when we win next time,” Reo quips, glancing at Nagi with a knowing smirk.

“You should watch our games more often,” Nagi adds, his voice softer now. Exhaustion? Frustration? You can’t say for sure.

 His eyes lingera on you just a little too long. “And… you’re better than the reporters I usually get. Just saying.”

The compliment catches you off guard, but you brush it off with a polite chuckle, waving goodbye as you step away.

You don’t let yourself look toward Bastard München’s side of the field, no matter how badly you want to. The urge claws at your chest, but you can’t risk it—not after what Reo had said, not with the cameras still flashing around you.

On the train ride home, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Setting down the book you’ve just started, you pull it out, expecting a message from your editor. Instead, it was a Winstagram notification.

Manshine City tagged you on a post.

The photo was candid, sharp: you mid-laugh, standing just a little too close to Nagi. His towering frame and relaxed posture made the interaction look… intimate. 

The caption reads: Look who finally came to see us! Long overdue interview @/thenagiseishirou @/yn_offthepage 🙌

The post is already gaining traction. At first, the comments were innocuous, even kind.

『so dedicated her articles are always spot-on cool seeing reporters getting along with players like this love her work can’t wait to read her take on the game.』

A faint smile creeps onto your face, and for a fleeting moment, relief trickles in. At least some people appreciate your effort. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad—

And then came the other comments.

『guess Bastard München wasnt enough for her another player groupie. classic. bet she’s just there for the photo ops she doesn’t even play. it’s always the pretty ones chasing players for attention not a real journalist she done cloutchasing using hiori? now nagi? 』

The knot in your stomach tightens. The tuna sandwich you had for dinner threatening to resurface as you stare at the screen. 

The initial warmth from the positive comments is now eclipsed by the sharp sting of the negativity. You knew this would happen eventually—it was part of the job. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stare at your phone. The comments, their meaning cuts clear: doubt, mockery, misunderstanding.

Your chest feels heavy. You think of your workmates, your editor, your family. Would they see this? Would they believe it? 

Would Hiori?

Hiori.

Your heart sinks even further. The thought of him seeing the post—seeing you laughing with Nagi like that, with comments painting you as some shallow opportunist—makes your hands tremble.

You want to explain, to set the record straight. This isn’t what it looked like. You’re doing your job. But even if you had the words, who would listen?

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

The train rattles along, the hum of the engine filling the silence in your head as you stare at the screen. You’re no longer scrolling but the pain only gets stronger the longer you stare at it blankly. Tears are already threatening to spill but you’re too prideful to cry at a train ride, even if it’s the last ride of the night.

Then your phone buzzes again.

hiori_yo23: Didn’t know you were a Manshine City fan now.

You freeze.

The words stabs deeper than any of the comments ever could. His chat devoid of the usual teasing tone. Or the cute emojis. Your grip tightens on the phone, your knuckles white as your world seems to tilt off balance.

He saw it. Of course, he has.

Your breath hitches, chest constricting as the sting of his words settled in.

You want to reply—to explain everything. That it's just an assignment. That Bastard Munchen is still number one in your heart. 

That you haven’t forgotten about him, not for a second. That even as you stood on the field, the only person you could think about was him.

But you don’t. You can’t.

Because what do you even say to him? Who are you to him?

The journalist he’s polite to during interviews? A fleeting acquaintance he plays games with?

Hot tears spill out, sliding down your cheeks as the city blurs past the train window. You don’t bother wiping them away.

You don’t have the right to expect anything more.

And the worst part?

You couldn’t even blame him for misunderstanding. Not when you don’t even know if you mean anything to him at all.

amari's notes: this took me a while to write. the ideas i had werent that solid enough so it was a struggle. i think a little misunderstanding would stir the pot. i tried reading it out loud alone and i felt so sad ngl anw, if you’re up for it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[quandledlngle69]

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