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chahnniesroom · 5 months ago

Text

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends.

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaim when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you've always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard. “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

—

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious.

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming.

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone.

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced.

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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taki118 · 2 months ago

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Kirishima and Other Women

Among the criticism and complaints of Raise Wa Tanin Ga Ii aka Yakuza Fiance the most common is about how Kirishima "cheats" but what if I were to tell you this aspect of him actually serves an important point within the narrative? Because it does, in fact it serves a few.

First and foremost this is common in the Yakuza subculture. The series is a bit of a send off to Yakuza subculture and media with references that tend to go over your head unless you are into it (most go over mine). This is no different. While this isn't as narratively important it is important to know overall, the series embraces all things Yakuza the good and the bad (unlike some other Yakuza series but that not a rant for here) And like it's implied pretty much all the guys in the series to it to some degree yes even Shoma. I only have some knowledge of this myself so I won't get into it but I would recommend looking into cause it is interesting and makes sense for the series to incorporate on some level due to this and it would feel wrong to not mention it here.

Now lets go onto to something more meaty and kinda spoilery, so don't read if you dont want. (though I don't think it will ruin your enjoyment)

So these other women actually help to better understand Kirishima and his relationship/feelings towards Yoshino. One detail the anime leaves out is who these women are and they are women. All college age or older, and all some kind of working professional who has skills or connections Kirishima does not have. Remember Kirishima is not technically Yakuza so he does not have access to resources that actual members of the group have but because he is involved with that world still he has to find a way to make up for what he resources he lacks. The safest resource he has found over the years is women.

Just like how Yoshino unintentionally raises the ire of women, Kirishima does the same to men both intentionally and unintentionally. He has difficulty connecting with people which is a topic in and of itself, but because of this he has learnt how to gain connections on a superficial level so he only does so with those he can feel some control over or feels safer. AKA Women. Kirishima knows he's attractive, and he knows how easy it is to charm people but those he had an ongoing connection with are those who understand it's a game and want something back.

It's all quid prop quo, he does something for them and so they in turn do something for him. FYI I'm pretty sure what he's getting out of it isn't psychical pleasure, information, connections and a safe house for sure but actual enjoyment from sex? Not likely again the anime doesn't show it very well but many manga readers have noted how disconnected Kirishima looks during these moments. (Which I will fully get to later) It's an exchange when Yoshino calls him a gigolo she's not wrong, and there is a greater discussion to be had here about how early Kirishima started doing this and all the messy stuff that comes with it but because we don't have enough information on how that started I won't get into it. (and its a little off topic)

Overall all though this shows the audience that Kirishima has a kind of warped view of sex and intimacy, he views it as a resource he can use much like his fighting ability, to him it's the same thing. At least at the start.

When Tsubaki tells Kirishima that he is actually very easy to understand when she has Yoshino there to compare, I believe this was a hint the author was giving us. To understand Kirishima and how he really feels about Yoshino one just need to look at how he is with other women.

It is INCREDIBLY telling that the closest thing Kirishima has to an ex-girlfriend is Nao, because notice how that term is never used within the story by the pair as to what their relationship was. Nao calls Ozu an ex but not Kirishima, he's just a guy she had a fling with (with a weird age gap) even though she seems to care more about him than Ozu (another deep dive I'll probably do). Kirishima also never uses the term, he does note that he did like her to some degree more than likely a little more than the other women he has similar situationships with but it was still at its core transactional. They both wanted what the other could offer more than them as a person. (also just fucking for weeks isn't a relationship) Kirishima always keeps everyone at a distance, keeps everything close to the vest, makes sure the situation is advantageous to him so he can't get screwed over, every single one. Except Yoshino.

You see it constantly in the series as Kirishima WANTS to connect with Yoshino. He wants to better understand and connect with her in ways he has never bothered to before. In fact you can argue that Kirishima is actually more emotionally unintelligent than Yoshino as he has such difficulty in understanding what Yoshino wants from him. He's so use to being fake, to acting the way women around him want him to that it throws him through a loop that Yoshino doesn't want that. She forces him to be a person not a persona.

Because of that, like Tsubaki says, he is desperate to understand and connect with her unlike with the women who he is connected to in a superficial way. I know it weirdly upsets some viewers that these women "Know" Kirishima in a way Yoshino hasn't but they don't actually know him Yoshino does. People often conflate love and sex as being the same thing but its not, sometimes it overlaps (and like that should be the standard but its not). This series sort of forces you to confront that assumption, because the real moments of love are in the smaller things.

It's Kirishima helping Yoshino with her garden, its him trying to get her focus on him, its him talking to her about mundane things, its him seeking out the things she wants, its him telling her his birthday, and yes it's him sleeping with other women to keep her safe. A LOT of people don't realize this but it is right there in the text he only reconnected with Nao because it would make the situation in Osaka more advantageous for him to keep Yoshino safe. There is a very good likelihood that if the situation would 100% not get Yoshino involved that Kirishima would have just stayed out of it. (which like damn sucks for you Nao) In actuality Kirishima likely would have preferred just a normal trip to Osaka with Yoshino (even though the chaos does help him confirm his own feelings again) Kirishima wants so desperately to be connected to Yoshino in anyway he can but you don't see that in how he is with other women, and it's in seeing that you can see his authenticity.

For further reference to something I noted earlier look at how Kirishima looks in these scenes with women both during and after sex.

There's little to no actual emotion or care, he operates almost robotically like you see when he fights someone he doesn't really give a shit about. It is something he's doing cause he has to not cause he wants to. Now compare these reactions to how he reacts when he finds out he accidentally/unconsciously felt Yoshino up

It's this flurry of emotions you can't even fully quantify like he can't even fathom he really did that. Kind of a strange reaction to give to someone who has done way more for way longer, but it makes perfect sense if you remember love and sex are different. With these other women he didn't care, sex didn't mean anything they could have been anyone and in all honesty if he could get away with not doing it he'd probably prefer it. But he loves Yoshino so he actually cares, he is actually turned on, he actually feels something.

THAT is the point of the side women. Kirishima is very hard to understand his character is a mystery for a majority of the series (and to a degree still is) these women help to solve that mystery if you take the time to really look at what's happening and not get parasocially angry that he is "betraying" his love for Yoshino. In his mind he's not because love and sex are different, sex to him until Yoshino is just a tool, its one of the many things that Yoshino changes in him over the course of the series. Lets not forget that one of his side women actually makes him realize the situation with Yoshino isn't all that great (the scene is better in the manga) cause he doesn't have the emotional intelligence to realize that himself and is a catalyst for the two actually growing closer. Like I keep having to cut myself short cause I'll just go off on how wonderfully complicated and uncomplicated Kirishima is as a character, but this is an important aspect to understand and shouldn't just be written off as "He's a red flag".

These women give us insight into how Kirishima is Pre-Yoshino and shows us how far he's come Post-Yoshino, in a way that could not be done otherwise. So maybe it makes you uncomfy for a bit but it's not bad writing it serves a purpose that could not be done otherwise.

#yakuza fiance #raise wa tanin ga ii #rwtgi #meta #kirishima miyama #yoshino somei

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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

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Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: After being yelled at one too many times by their strict Ubers teammate, Oliver Aiku enlists Ikki Niko in helping him get Shoei Barou a girlfriend, hoping beyond hope that that’s enough to get the guy to chill out a bit.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Barou x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 10.8k

Content Warnings: crack fic, barou is also my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader is kind of an npc in this icl 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, everyone is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), everyone gets slandered (mostly by aiku), god bless niko for being chronically online

A/N: there were a decent amt of people who wanted barou’s version plus i felt like writing it so he’s up next!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long just like the sae version and somehow it’s even sillier so…but yeah anyways this is the second entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Barou is yelling at them again. Aiku’s not sure what the big deal is this time — so what if Lorenzo spilled spaghetti sauce on the floor? He’s Italian, that’s part of his culture — but if he dares to speak up, Barou will single him out specifically, and then he’ll be treated like a little kid in timeout, which doesn’t sound like an ideal way to spend a Friday night.

It’s the four of them in the doghouse as usual — himself, Niko, Aryu, and Sendou, that is. The most ridiculous thing is that Lorenzo isn’t even there, though he’s the true target of Barou’s rage; unfortunately for his teammates, though, Lorenzo’s off getting his teeth polished or counting his money while cackling or whatever else it is that he does in his free time.

Honestly, none of them are really taking the theatrics seriously. Aryu’s fiddling with the ends of his hair, Niko’s standing there, staring at Barou with large, watery eyes, and Sendou’s glaring back at Barou with his arms folded over his chest. Aiku sighs, because that means an argument between the two is most likely impending, but unfortunately for him, he sighs a bit too loudly, and Barou whips around, jabbing a finger at him.

“What’s so exasperating, huh?” Barou says. “I bet you won’t be sighing when we have an insect infestation because none of you can be bothered to clean up that damn tomato shit that Lorenzo’s obsessed with!”

“It’s marinara,” Niko pipes up meekly. They all look at him with varying degrees of incredulity; he shrugs, adjusting the headphones around his neck self-consciously. “Lorenzo’s trying to teach me how to make it. Supposedly a typical spaghetti sauce has meat and vegetables added, but a good marinara is the base, so — um, anyways.”

Barou’s upper lip is curled into a sneer, and Aiku’s just about to thank Niko for taking the fall and turning Barou’s rage to him when he remembers that that’s markedly not how Barou operates. He’s too meticulous to forget the former recipient of his ire, not so quickly, and indeed, Barou is pointing at them both when he speaks next.

“That stain better be gone the next time I come in this room,” he says. He doesn’t say what will happen if it’s not, but given his authoritative voice and enormous physique, he usually doesn’t have to resort to making threats in order to be obeyed.

“Thank goodness,” Aryu says once Barou has left to complete his evening meditations. “Seems like Barou appreciated our elegant silence, Sendou. We’ve escaped reproach this time.”

“Yup,” Sendou says. Whistling nonchalantly, he sidles out of the room, and with a fluttering wave, Aryu follows suit. Aiku can’t even blame them, considering it’s what he would’ve done if he were in their place.

Glancing at Niko, who is now his greatest friend due to convenience alone, Aiku shakes his head, wondering what choice he made in life that led to his weekend plans amounting to cleaning sauce stains from a carpet with a little boy instead of partying or something.

“You got the bleach?” he asks. Niko nods miserably.

“Yeah, I got it. You’re good with scrubbing?” he says. Aiku’s shoulders cramp preemptively at the mere thought, but he doesn’t protest aloud.

“No other choice, right?” he says. “Off to work we go, then.”

Your best friend has been begging you for days to try this new restaurant with her, and it’s only now that it’s Friday that you can’t come up with any more excuses to avoid it. The truth is that you don’t really have a reason to refuse her as many times as you have, but the thought of summoning up the wherewithal to get ready and go out for dinner instead of throwing on your pajamas and eating something on the couch with a movie in the background is excruciating. Besides, you know her tastes. She always takes you to insanely fancy locations where anything less than your best will be embarrassing, and the only saving grace is that your outings always end up being insanely cheap, as she refuses to spend more than the bare minimum no matter what.

“You’re serious?” she affirms, standing in front of your closet and sifting through your clothes. You’re sitting on your bed, legs crossed and your laptop on your lap as you try to finish up the essay you have due Monday before getting ready. “You’ll really go with me?”

“I just told you I would, didn’t I?” you say. “I wouldn’t let you go through my closet if I wasn’t being serious. Actually, I wouldn’t have let you into my house at all.”

“Your parents would’ve opened the door for me,” she says dismissively. “They love me.”

It’s true, they do love her as much if not more than they love you, so you have no rebuttal. She grins at you, tossing a shirt in your general direction. It hits the back of your laptop, landing in a heap on the floor, and you’re too busy to pick it up, so you just leave it there, too lost in thought to care. Just the conclusion, if I can finish that then I can do something fun without anything on my mind—

“Hurry up and get ready! We want to get a table, don’t we?” she says. It’s a pair of pants she flings your way this time, and her aim is far more superior, for they smack into your face, temporarily blinding you.

“If you don’t let me finish this essay, I won’t go with you,” you say, and she knows you mean it literally, so she immediately pretends to zip her lips, saluting at you.

“Finish away!”

“Barou’s totally got a stick up his ass, don’t you think?” Aiku says after thirty minutes have passed and the stain is no smaller than before.

“I don’t think I’d phrase it like that,” Niko says, pouring another cup of bleach on the carpet. Neither of them really know much about cleaning, so this is the best they’ve got, even though Aiku’s pretty sure Barou would pass out if he saw their method. “But yeah, he can be kind of uptight at times.”

“He’s pretty nice otherwise, though,” Aiku says thoughtfully. “It’s kind of a shame. I bet if he loosened up a bit, he’d be a downright enjoyable teammate. Besides the cleaning and all, he’s a cool guy.”

“I do like training with him,” Niko says. “When he’s not yelling at us, it’s fun. Following his regimen has made me a lot stronger.”

“Agreed,” Aiku says. That’s the one thing he’ll give Barou — the guy is a master with the training equipment. He’s introduced Aiku to machines he didn’t even know existed. “You know what he needs?”

“What?” Niko says. He’s scrubbing at the floor while Aiku’s sipping on a soda; theoretically, they’re supposed to be switching off, but Niko hasn’t complained yet, so Aiku’s not about to remind him that it’s well beyond time for his turn.

“Some pu—” Aiku cuts himself off when he remembers that he is talking to a child. Niko’s like twelve or something, so maybe phrasing it in that way isn’t the most appropriate thing to do. “—I mean, a beautiful and loving girlfriend.”

Niko tilts his chin up at him, which means he’s probably looking at him; it’s hard to tell with his overgrown bangs falling in his face. Aiku makes a mental note to suggest cutting Niko’s hair during the next team bonding night that Snuffy forces them into.

“I guess having someone like that would make anyone happier, even Barou,” he says.

“That’s what I’m getting at! I bet he’s just constantly stressed out, so he takes it out on us instead of finding a healthy outlet. Maybe dating someone will fix that and give him something to do besides soccer,” Aiku says.

“Is that your secret to always being so calm?” Niko says. Aiku nods.

“The more girls you have, the less you can worry about things like training. You’re too focused on making sure they’re all happy,” Aiku says.

“Woah,” Niko says. “That’s a really great way of looking at things.”

“Right?” Aiku says. “With Barou, though, we might be lucky if we can find even one girl willing to put up with him. He’s a bit of a work in progress, you know?”

“Totally,” Niko says. “What if he yells at her the way he yells at us?”

Aiku has a vision of some poor, innocent girl on the verge of tears as Barou rants about how she didn’t fold her laundry the right way or something. For some reason, she looks kind of like Niko — oh, that’s probably because Barou just yelled at Niko for that exact reason — but the image is enough for him to balk.

“She can come to us for comfort,” Aiku says decisively before once again remembering that Niko probably only popped out of the womb a scant few months prior. He needs to be more careful — this isn’t Sendou, who would’ve made at least ten innuendos even worse than his own by this point. “I mean, me.”

“That’s a good plan,” Niko says. “You’re really good with the whole advising and comforting thing. I bet you’d make her feel better for sure.”

Yeah, I’d make her feel better alright. This time Aiku manages to keep it to himself, only coughing slightly and nodding towards the bottle of bleach as an explanation.

“The only question is where in Blue Lock are we going to find a girl, let alone one willing to date Barou?” Aiku says.

“Well, Bastard München is playing PXG this weekend, and Manshine City is playing Barcha, so we’re technically off,” Niko says. “I think if we ask Snuffy, we can probably have a day out.”

“What if Ego gets mad?” Aiku says, although the idea is sound enough that he’s just jealous he didn’t come up with it himself. Niko hums, giving careful consideration to the notion.

“We can just blame it on Snuffy. What’s Ego going to do, fire him?” he says.

A grin breaks out on Aiku’s face.

“Niko, kiddo—”

“I’m fifteen.”

“—you’re totally a genius. Let’s go!”

“What about the stain?” Niko says. Aiku glances at the still marinara-colored splotch on the carpet, and then he waves it off dismissively.

“If we can find Snuffy before Barou gets back, then it’s no longer our problem,” he says.

Niko looks unconvinced, but he’s sensible as well as genius-material, so he only follows after Aiku — albeit not without a final worried glance at the section of carpet which still smells suspiciously of tomatoes.

“So what cuisine does this place have, anyways?” you say. You’ve finally finished and submitted your essay, and now you’re taking a shower. Your best friend has closed the lid of the toilet and is sitting on it while playing on her phone, apparently because she wants to be able to talk to you even while you’re showering, and since you have a curtain you don’t mind.

“No idea,” she says.

“No idea?” you say, squeezing shampoo into your palm. “Why do you want to go, then?”

“My dad’s Facebook friends have been raving about it,” she says. “His ex-boss said that it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city!”

“We’re going to dinner based on recommendations from your dad’s Facebook friends,” you repeat dryly. “Wow.”

“Look, he may have chronically underpaid my dad, but the ex-boss has great taste in food!” your best friend defends. “Apparently they fill up super fast, though, so we have to get there right when they open for dinner, or else we’re out of luck.”

“Is this you subtly trying to pressure me to shower faster?” you say.

“It’s not subtle,” she says. You scoff.

“I hope you know I’ll take even longer now,” you say.

“You better not!”

Snuffy is obviously confused when the two of them approach him — Aiku’s not sure if it’s the question that has their coach confounded, though, or if it’s the admittedly odd combination that’s approached him.

“You guys want a night out of the facility?” Snuffy checks.

“Yes,” Aiku says.

“And…you want Barou to come?” Snuffy says. That could be another reason for the incredulity — ‘Barou’ and ‘fun’ are two words rarely if ever seen in the same sentence, unless your name is Yoichi Isagi, in which case just being on the same field as Barou is your idea of ‘fun.’ For normal people — i.e. those with names such as Oliver Aiku and Ikki Niko — those concepts don’t generally align, however, so Aiku can’t blame Snuffy for the weird face he’s making.

“Yes,” Niko says.

Snuffy stares at them for a moment longer, and then, to make things even stranger, he chuckles in a way that’s almost fond.

“It’ll be good for him to get out of here for a bit,” he says. “You two are great teammates for thinking of him; I’m sure he’ll appreciate it one day, if not necessarily tonight. Go on, then, and have fun if you’d like.”

Aiku waits for the other shoe to drop, but Snuffy just returns to making a cup of coffee. It’s a little odd, given the later hour, but still, Aiku’s not one to count his blessings, so he motions for Niko to follow him, and with Snuffy’s official permission, the two of them march towards where Barou is probably doing his daily “fuck Yoichi Isagi” affirmations. They have that kind of weird relationship, after all. It’s unnecessarily complicated, but Aiku has observed during his time in Blue Lock that almost every single relationship between the members of the program follows such a mold. He’s given up on trying to figure any of it out, knowing it’s well beyond him.

“Are you ready?” Aiku says when they reached the closed door to the training room. Niko rolls his shoulders.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Niko says. Aiku decides he likes him, and that he should try to spend more time with the pipsqueak. Maybe he can be a mentor figure or a true role model for the younger player. He’d definitely do better at the job than, say, Aryu. Or Lorenzo, which is a more relevant concern, since apparently the two are cooking buddies, as per Niko’s marinara interlude during Barou’s earlier tantrum.

With a grim nod at Niko, Aiku swings open the door. Schooling his expression into a cheery grin, he calls out in a sing-song that really doesn’t spell anything but trouble:

“Oh, Barou!”

You’ve made your best friend drive, since she’s the one who’s insisted on taking you out, which leaves you to play music and accomplish other such passenger-esque duties. You take full advantage of your freedom to be distracted, shuffling through playlists whenever you’re bored and scrolling through your best friend’s crush-of-the-week’s social media.

“He’s kind of ugly,” you say. She clicks her tongue.

“In a cute way, though, right?” she says. When you’re silent, she gasps. “Right?”

“Uh…” you trail off, zooming in on one of the photos. Something about him is reminiscent of a gerbil, and you can tell he’s short even before you swipe and see him in a photo with one of his friends, barely coming up to his shoulder. “There’s someone out there for everyone, I suppose.”

“That means you think he’s repulsive!” she accuses you.

“Repulsive’s a strong word,” you say.

“Hideous?” she says.

“I can get behind that,” you say. “He reminds me of Tinkerbell.”

“Like the fairy, or our third grade teacher’s gerbil?” she says.

“The latter,” you say. “I’m glad you remembered her. That wouldn’t have been as funny if you didn’t.”

“I didn’t find it funny regardless,” she says, pulling into the parking lot and slowing the car to a crawl as she hunts for a space to pull in.

“Hm,” you say. “I did.”

“You know what? You’re not allowed to slander him until you find someone better for yourself. Girls in glass houses should not be throwing stones, and considering some of your exes, you’re in no position to talk,” she says.

“Low blow,” you say.

“No response? That’s what I thought,” she says. You scowl.

“Just park the car, you dumbass.

“What the hell is going on?” Barou says, for probably the third or fourth time. Unfortunately, their attempt at kidnapping him didn’t go as planned, for neither Aiku nor Niko could lift Barou for any length of time, so now they were stuck with a supremely irritated striker following after them as they marched towards where the Blue Lock official parking was.

Snuffy had given them the keys to his car, so at least they had a ride — if he weren’t such a good coach, Aiku would seriously question the man’s judgment. Niko ushers Barou into the backseat, claiming he already “called shotgun,” and then he dives into the passenger seat beside Aiku, fastening his seatbelt with a serious expression on his delicate face.

“We wanted to have a fun night out!” Aiku says, turning the child lock on so Barou can’t escape before reversing out of the garage.

“Huh?” Barou says. “There’s so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to begin. Also, why are we in Snuffy’s car?”

“He gave us the keys,” Niko says, like it’s obvious. In all fairness, it kind of is.

“He gave you two the keys,” Barou says. Aiku’s a responsible driver, so he doesn’t glance back at Barou, but he’s pretty sure that if he did, he’d be met with the kind of fearsome glare that made medieval-era peasants believe in the existence of creatures like trolls and dragons.

“Yes, he did,” Aiku says. “Told us to enjoy ourselves while we were at it.”

Barou sighs. “Say I believe that—”

“We’re telling the truth!” Aiku says.

“—uh-huh, sure. Anyways, where are we even going?” he says.

“Oh, I can answer that!” Niko says. “It’s this restaurant that my dad’s obsessed with. He’s been posting all over his Facebook about it. According to him, it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city.”

“At least you two are being frugal,” Barou says with a small ‘hmph.’ “How far is it?”

“Not too far,” Niko says.

“Just sit back and relax, man! It’s a couple of friends going out for a meal. Totally normal!” Aiku says.

“Friends don’t kidnap one another to hang out,” Barou says.

“We didn’t kidnap you. Are you saying we’re friends, then?” Aiku says.

“I’m saying we’re not. You turned the child lock on, so that basically constitutes an abduction,” Barou says.

“I did that for Niko!” Aiku says, mentally patting himself on the back for the quick thinking.

“What? I’m fifteen, not five!”

By the time your best friend finds somewhere to park, it’s already dark, and the spot is at the very edge of the lot, so then the two of you have to walk for another five minutes. She’s antsy by this point, but she does an admirable job of hiding it, only picking at her nails behind her back where she thinks you won’t see.

“It’ll be alright,” you say as you reach the door to the restaurant. “I’m sure they’ll have space for two people, at least. Nowhere can be that busy, right?”

“I hope so,” she says, chewing on her lower lip.

You’re proven wrong almost as soon as you both walk into the establishment. Every single table has people sitting at it, and there’s a small crowd of people in the waiting area. Still, you and your best friend push past to where the hostess is standing.

“Excuse me,” you say. “How long is the wait?”

“At least an hour,” the hostess says, her face wan.

“An hour?” your best friend says. “There’s nothing you can do?”

Of course, both of you know there isn’t, but it’s still disappointing when the hostess shakes her head regretfully.

“Would you like me to put your names down?” she says.

“Give us a minute,” you say. She nods, and you and your best friend walk a ways away. As soon as you’re out of the hostess’s earshot, you frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would genuinely be this busy.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting it either,” she says, exhaling heavily. “I would’ve been way more serious about being on time if I had.”

“What should we do now? I don’t mind waiting,” you say.

“It’s okay. I’m a little hungry, so we can go somewhere else and come back here another day,” she says.

“Are you sure?” you say.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s go,” she says.

You’re heading towards the door when a robust voice stops you. At first, neither of you are sure if the speaker is referring to you, but when it becomes obvious he is, you turn around in confusion.

“Where are you guys going?” he says. It’s a man with dark hair and eyes like mismatched marbles, and he’s sitting at a table with two others. There’s a couple of empty seats, and he motions towards them. “We’ve been waiting for you two for forever!”

“Oh, you’re in their party?” the hostess says. You glance at your best friend, who mouths why not? at you, and then you smile at the hostess.

“Yes, we are,” you say.

“You should’ve said so from the start,” she says, shaking her head. “Right this way, please.”

You and your best friend follow after her, both of you more than a little lost at the turn of events, but who are you to turn down the offer? Sure, you don’t know any of the three, but at least this way you two didn’t drive out for no reason, and the restaurant’s crowded enough that if they have nefarious intentions, you should be able to get help relatively quickly.

As you sit down and the hostess offers you menus, you can’t help but glance at the three boys, wondering what exactly it is they want from you. Is this some elaborate scam? An effort to get you to pay for their dinner? You can’t tell. They’re unreadable, and all you can do is hope that the meal still goes as well as you had originally planned — otherwise, you’ll be really mad that you’re not at home instead.

When Niko had first suggested calling ahead to make reservations, Aiku had privately considered him to be a nerd, and one of the idiotic variety, no less. A lethal combo. But outwardly he had nodded along and told him to go right ahead, mostly because it seemed like the kind of thing Barou would appreciate. Now, though, he’s glad that Niko had that kind of foresight, because the place is completely packed.

“Where’s the rest of your party?” the hostess says when they walk in and give her Barou’s name. Aiku doesn’t really know why Niko made reservations under Barou’s name, nor what the hostess means by the ‘rest of their party’, but she’s pretty, so he gives her a charming smile. She’s working now, so he can’t exactly push Barou towards her, but if he’s talking about himself…

She blushes and ducks her head, although the moment is ruined by Niko speaking up.

“What do you mean, the rest of our party?” he says.

“You made a reservation for five, didn’t you?” she says, leading them to the table. Aiku exchanges looks with Barou, mostly because the two of them tower over the others, so it’s convenient, but Barou seems as confused as Aiku is. Both of them clearly heard Niko making the reservation for only three people, so how in the world had the hostess written down five?

“Uh,” Niko says, and then for some reason he’s turning towards Aiku for help? Aiku’s kind of distracted, though, both with celebrating the moment he just had with Barou and with discerning the color of lipstick the hostess is wearing (red or pink?), so when she directs her question to him, he admittedly panics a bit.

“Will the rest of them be arriving later?” she says.

“Yes,” Aiku says. Coral! That’s the shade he was looking for.

“No worries,” the hostess says. “Although you might want to tell them to hurry up, just in case.”

“Wait, what—?” Aiku begins, but she’s already dropping menus in front of them and racing off to take care of the next group of customers.

“You fucking donkey,” Barou said. “Who else is coming to this?”

“Nobody that I know of,” Niko says. “I only made a reservation for three. She must’ve gotten confused and written down five or something like that, but why’d you go along with it, Aiku?”

“Um,” Aiku says.

“What unparalleled eloquence,” Barou says.

Aiku’s mind is racing. Firstly, he’s accidentally confused this poor hostess into expecting two more people, and secondly, how are he and Niko supposed to set Barou up with a girl in this kind of situation? The food may be great, but the ambiance isn’t exactly what they’re looking for.

Somehow, these two lines of thought get muddled into one solution, the catalyst of which is when he sees two girls heading towards the door, obviously disheartened by the long wait time for those idiots who didn’t make reservations.

Wait. If those two are girls, and two plus three is five, then Barou might just end this night no longer single!

Another quick recovery by Oliver Aiku. He’s getting better and better by the minute.

“Hi,” the man who called you over says. “I’m Oliver Aiku.”

“Hi,” you say. The five-person table is a circle, and Aiku’s across from you; since it’s your fault that you’re sitting with these random guys instead of by yourselves, you squeeze between your best friend and the more intimidating-looking one, leaving her to be on the right side of the youngest boy in the group. “Y/N L/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says.

“Likewise,” you say.

“I’m Niko,” the younger boy says. He has dark hair falling into a heart-shaped face, and you can’t fully see his eyes, but you think they might be some shade of bluish green. Idly, you wonder how his vision isn’t horrible given how overgrown his bangs are, but he doesn’t seem to be having any problems, so you suppose he must have some kind of method around it. “And that’s Barou.”

“I can introduce myself,” the one at your side snaps. He’s by far the most handsome of the trio, although you’re sure your best friend would disagree — she has bad taste, though, so that’s irrelevant — with a regal face and sharp eyes. His dark hair is spiky and his eyes are a vivid crimson, narrowed with irritation while his mouth tugs into a perfect frown. “My name is Barou.”

“It’s a pleasure, Barou,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Same here.”

More than being a pleasure, it’s a little tense, so you return to reading your menu, not knowing what else to say, hoping someone else says something soon and rescues you from the ensuing silence.

This is bad. Almost as bad as Japan’s performance in the last U-20 World Cup, which occurred right before Aiku moved up and joined the team. Almost as bad as that stain Lorenzo’s marinara left on the carpet. It’s that level of catastrophic, because clearly, Barou will take a lot more encouragement than originally anticipated. Kicking Niko under the table, Aiku nods meaningfully at Barou, who is also reading his menu, sitting next to the girl who’s doing the same.

It’s the perfect opportunity for small talk. Occasionally, the girl will peek at him over the top of his menu, so she’s clearly not affronted by him — either that, or she’s deathly afraid that Barou will kill her and is making sure he doesn’t do that when she’s distracted. If the latter is the case, well, it’s not entirely unfounded.

Solving the conundrum which has presented itself is even more difficult than their game against PXG was. How is Aiku supposed to flirt with someone for Barou? She’ll just end up liking him, which is rather counterintuitive, given that the end goal is to get Barou a girlfriend.

If only Barou weren’t so stubborn! Aiku’s put him in the perfect spot, but instead of just reaching out his hand and snatching the opportunity up with both metaphorical hands, he’s sitting there, utterly absorbed by the intricacies of the restaurant’s entrees, which Aiku surmises are no doubt fascinating to people with such sensibilities.

It’s the girl, Y/N, who breaks the silence again. Clearing her throat and setting the menu aside, her eyes dart around the table before settling on Aiku. A natural consequence, given his dashing looks and genial personality, but not the one they’re hoping for at the moment, not in the slightest.

“We don’t know you, right?” she says.

“I don’t think so,” Aiku says. Has he gone out with her before? He’s pretty sure he’d have remembered if he had, but you can never be careful these days.

“Then why’d you invite us to sit with you?” she says.

Aiku’s in desperate need of an assist, and there’s only one person who’ll reliably send him one. Besides, the kid owes him a favor, so he doesn’t even feel guilty when he makes a face at Niko, as if indicating that he should be the one to answer the query.

“It was Barou’s idea!” Niko says.

“Excuse me?” Barou says.

“What?” Aiku says.

“Yeah, it was. He felt bad that you guys were going to leave without eating, and we accidentally booked a table for five instead of three, like we originally planned, so he told Aiku to stop you guys before you were gone,” Niko explains.

“Oh, that was very sweet of you!” Y/N says. “Thank you so much. We both really appreciate it.”

Under the table, Aiku gives Niko a thumbs-up. Niko returns the gesture in kind, though neither of them let their true emotions show on their faces, which must be carefully schooled into blankness so that nobody else catches on to their scheming.

“You’re welcome,” Barou says before freezing as he realizes that he’s somehow fallen for Niko’s lie, despite being there to witness the truth of the events. “Wait, no, it wasn’t—”

“Barou’s super considerate,” Niko continues, cutting Barou’s correction off. Aiku could just about cry. Niko’s a natural-born talent! He could never have predicted the younger boy’s sheer skill at this kind of thing. “Do you watch soccer?”

��Not really,” Y/N says thoughtfully. “I’ve never understood it well enough to become an avid fan, and my father prefers baseball, so it’s not something my family is into. I think it’s really cool, though!”

“Barou plays,” Niko says.

“So do you guys,” Barou says.

“Yeah, but you’re sitting next to her,” Niko says. “And you’re the king, right? Who better than you to explain the sport?”

“She didn’t ask for that,” Barou says, glowering at Niko and Aiku alike. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N says, even going so far as to smile at Barou. With a final suspicious glare at the two of them, Barou begins to explain the rules of the game to her, and Aiku takes advantage of his distraction to high-five Niko.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Where’d you learn this shit?”

“I watch a lot of anime,” Niko whispers back. “This is a classic set up for a twelve-episode romance that teaches the viewers about friendship, love, and what it means to grow up.”

“That’s not what I was expecting,” Aiku says after digesting this latest revelation, finding that it makes a surprising amount of sense. “But hey, whatever works!”

“Exactly,” Niko says. “Do you think it’s weird if I order chicken fingers from the children’s menu?”

“Order whatever you want, kid,” Aiku says. “You deserve it. I’ll even pay.”

“Yay!” Niko says. “Chicken fingers it is.”

Aiku doesn’t even mind treating him. If this is successful, then he’ll buy Niko all of the chicken fingers in the world in thanks.

You’re more than a little grateful that Niko has given you something to talk to Barou about. Your best friend is busy texting her crush, the gerbil-looking one, who has apparently responded to her story, so you would’ve had to sit there in silence until she finished up or someone took pity on your helpless self. In this way, though, it’s much more natural, and even if it really was just an example of Niko feeling bad for you, it didn’t come across as such.

“You really scored a goal against the Japanese U-20 team?” you say after Barou has finished a long-winded explanation on the rules of soccer and some of the highlights of his career in the sport. In truth, you mostly tuned out the more technical details, but you have to admit that some of the things he’s mentioned about himself are rather interesting.

“Yes,” he says.

“Wow,” you say. “You must be good, then.”

He shrugs in acknowledgement. “I’m good.”

It doesn’t feel like he’s bragging or anything like that. He’s just acknowledging an inevitable truth. He’s good. The way he says it, no one can deny it — not that you would’ve. Based on his build alone, you’d have expected him to have talent as an athlete; the things he’s mentioned have only been confirmation of that initial prediction, rather than blowing your mind in any significant way.

“Hi!” Your waitress’s arrival with a tray full of drinks cuts your conversation with Barou short, which you’re surprised to find you’re a little put-out by, at least until the grumble of your stomach reminds you of why you came to the restaurant in the first place. “Are you all ready to order?”

“I want the chicken fingers,” Niko says.

“The chicken fingers from the twelve and under menu? How old are you?” she says.

“Twelve,” Niko says. You frown, leaning closer to Barou in order to murmur in his ear.

“Is he actually?”

Barou shakes his head ever so slightly. “No, but if that’s the only way he can get chicken fingers…”

“That’s a fair point,” you say. The waitress seems to share your doubts, but then Aiku flashes her a warm grin.

“My little brother’s heard so much about your entrees, and he can’t wait to try the, er, chicken fingers. Yes. The chicken fingers. He’s been talking about them all week,” he explains.

“Are they—?” you begin.

“They met like a month ago,” Barou says, rolling his eyes. “No relation whatsoever.”

“I see,” you say. You almost have to admire the lengths they’re willing to go to, as well as how natural they are with it. “Huh. I guess if it works, it works.”

“One order of chicken fingers, then!” the waitress says, jotting it down on her notepad, returning Aiku’s grin with her own. He has that kind of enviable charisma that lets him get away with a lot more than he should, and you’re more than a little jealous. “And the rest of you?”

You all give her your orders, and she promises she’ll be back quickly before running back to the kitchen. Once again, you’re left to your own devices, and given that your best friend is still texting that guy, you decide you’ll try and talk to the others at your table.

“Barou told me you guys are all in some program called Blue Lock together,” you say. “What’s that like? It sounded super intense.”

“It is,” Aiku scoffs. “I don’t even know if we’re supposed to be here at the moment.”

“We got permission from our coach,” Niko says. “But the guy who runs the program is kind of…what’s the word?”

“Freaky?” Aiku says.

“That works,” Niko says.

“I didn’t realize we were dining with rebels,” you say.

“For the record, I was dragged into coming by those two,” Barou says.

“We didn’t actually drag him,” Aiku reassures you. “I mean, we tried, but he’s super heavy.”

“Too much training,” Niko says. “Barou, you should flex for Y/N — I mean, for everyone.”

“Hell no,” Barou says. “In public? Don’t be shameless.”

“So you’ll do it in private, then?” Aiku says.

“That’s — that’s not what I meant!” Barou sputters. “I won’t do it at all!”

“Y/N, if you get a subscription to Blue Lock TV, then forget about asking Barou to flex. You can just watch him work out. He does it shirtless,” Aiku says. You choke on your water.

“What are you, some kind of salesman?” you say, coughing to dislodge the droplets of liquid scratching at your throat. “Was inviting us to sit with you a kindness or an advertisement?”

“Can’t it be both?” Aiku says.

“No, it cannot, you fucking donkey!” Barou says. “Please ignore him. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You do train without a shirt on, though,” Niko says. “Quite often. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a lot of shirtless content on Blue Lock TV…Chris Prince stripped at one point, I’m pretty sure, and more than one of the Bastard München boys have had locker room features. I guess PXG is the only team without any fan service, since Barcha has Lavinho as a coach, and we all know how he is.”

“Good for them. You gotta give credit where it’s due,” Aiku says.

“Agreed,” Niko says. “Hey, Barou, didn’t you take your shirt off after scoring in the game against the U-20s, too? Is it like an established habit or something?”

“Enough about my shirt,” Barou says through gritted teeth.

“Or lack thereof,” Aiku adds. There’s a baleful aura emanating off of Barou, and he doesn’t even need to say anything before Aiku winces like he’s been cowed. “Sorry. The opportunity presented itself.”

“Both of you are on thin ice. First you abducted me, and now you’re going on about this dumbass subject? And that’s not to mention the sauce stain from earlier. I bet neither of you cleaned it up,” Barou says.

Aiku and Niko both look like they have been caught committing some crime. Barou’s about to snap, it’s very obvious, but you find his friends’ antics to be so amusing that you hesitantly pat him on the shoulder.

“Ah, I think they’re just teasing you. It’s common amongst people who are close to one another! I always make fun of my best friend for her taste in men,” you say.

“And I make fun of yours right back,” your best friend says, not even looking up from her phone. You roll your eyes at this.

“See? It’s really alright,” you say. “At the least, if you’re upset because we’re here, then don’t be. Neither of us mind. I mean, she’s not even paying attention to us. Too busy texting that Meriones unguiculatus of a man she deems crush-worthy.”

“Fuck you,” your best friend says. She ordinarily would have no idea what Meriones unguiculatus means, but given the context, you’re sure she’s figured it out.

“Don’t be mad because I’m right,” you say. “Anyways, like I was saying, it’s all good.”

There’s a strained moment where none of you know what Barou will do, but then he nods, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll let it slide, just this once. But the two of you better behave from now on, you got it?”

Aiku and Niko both seem to be so amazed that it’s a wonder they don’t salute at Barou’s barked-out order. Shaking your head and laughing, you decide it might be for the best if you try to talk to Barou yourself and leave his slightly problematic companions out of the conversation.

“So,” you say, to him and only him. “What’s the story behind the sauce stain?”

“Holy shit,” Aiku says.

“I know,” Niko says.

“She’s a genius. A god. A fucking Barou whisperer,” he says.

“I know,” Niko says.

“What are the odds that we managed to find the exact girl that could put up with his bullshit?” Aiku says.

“Pretty high!” a new voice chimes in. It’s Y/N’s friend; she never introduced herself, and it doesn’t seem like she’s inclined to, but she inconspicuously slides her chair closer to where he and Niko are talking. “You guys are trying to set your friend up with Y/N, huh? Good luck. She only likes ugly dudes.”

“Barou’s…kind of ugly?” Niko tries. Aiku snorts.

“Let’s keep it honest here,” he says. “Anyways, what were you talking about earlier? Barou’s a nutcase. It’s, like, a miracle that Y/N’s managing to have a conversation with him.”

“Maybe he’s like that with you, but to me, he seems to be the type that’s totally respectful to women,” Y/N’s friend says, brandishing her index finger in the air as if she’s making a particularly salient point. “The bigger the muscles, the bigger the heart, isn’t that ”

“Is that a real saying?” Niko says.

“No, I just made it up,” Y/N’s friend says. “But it kind of fits in this instance, don’t you think?”

“You’re not wrong,” Aiku says. “But do you mean to say Barou would be this nice to any girl?”

“It’s not like I know him personally. Shouldn’t you be able to answer that better than me?” Y/N’s friend says.

“There aren’t any girls in Blue Lock,” Niko says. “This is the first time we’ve seen him interact with one, so we actually have no idea.”

“Ah,” she says. “That explains a lot. Anyways, yeah, if I had to guess, he would be.”

“Hm,” Aiku says. This throws a definite wrench in their plans — up until this point, he had been convinced that there were sparks flying between Y/N and Barou, mostly because he had never seen Barou so gentle and quick to calm down in his life. Yet, if Y/N’s friend is telling the truth, and he has no reason to think she isn’t, then this is actually just his true personality.

On the one hand, it’s comforting to know that Barou isn’t constantly on the verge of an aneurysm, and indeed can even be persuaded towards kindness in his day-to-day life. On the other, it doesn’t solve their problem, which is getting him to calm down when he’s interacting with his fellow Ubers teammates.

Aiku comes to a decision relatively quickly. It’s his experience as a captain which lends him that swiftness; on the field, split-second decisions are the only way to go. He’s good at taking information and rapidly synthesizing it to come up with workable solutions, and though this isn’t a soccer match, the stakes are almost just as high.

The facts of the situation are as follows: Y/N does not seem to mind talking to Barou, and given that they’ve been engaged in conversation almost this entire time, the inverse is also likely true. Furthermore, she’s proven able to persuade him not to freak out at himself and Niko when they were pushing his buttons, which is something no one has ever managed before and is somewhat the end goal of the outing. Of course, she apparently only likes ugly guys, and Barou’s far from ugly — as a fellow member of the non-ugly community, Aiku is confident in saying this — but things like that are subjective, so he decides he shouldn’t worry too much about that aspect.

Then there are the theories, namely Y/N’s best friend’s one about how any girl might have a similar effect on Barou. This could be true, or it could also not be, but Aiku only has one data point and a limited amount of time to work with, so despite the likely veracity, he has to set it aside as false for the time being. It’s not like there’s an endless supply of girls just hanging around for him to test out Barou’s reactions with, so in this moment, he’s deeming Y/N L/N as a special case, an outlier, and this can only lead to one conclusion:

Barou is totally into her.

“Two younger sisters, really?” you say. While your best friend has been talking to Aiku and Niko in hushed tones, you’ve been preoccupied with Barou, who’s proven himself to be nothing like his first impression. You had expected him to be fussy and rude and intimidating, and while the latter adjective certainly still applies, he’s kind instead of spiteful and almost shy instead of brash.

“Yeah,” he says, and there’s a smile in his voice, although his face does not shift in the slightest. “They’re much smaller, so I look after them a lot — when I’m home, anyways. Obviously, I haven’t seen them since I’ve been at Blue Lock.”

“How sweet of you,” you say. “I bet your mother appreciates you a lot.”

“I try to help her whenever I can,” he says.

You’re about to internally swoon, but then you stop yourself. So what if he’s athletic, helps his mother, is tall, handsome, kind, muscular, and supposedly good with kids? That doesn’t mean anything. He probably has a girlfriend, anyways, given all of these positive attributes—

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you say, standing up. Your best friend looks over at you in concern, for she knows of your distaste for public restrooms, and then she, too, stands.

“Want me to come?” she says.

“Yes,” you say, striding off without further explanation. As soon as the two of you are far enough from the table, you give her a distressed look. “I need help.”

“What’s up?” she says.

“I think—”

“Are you into Barou?” she asks, cutting you off. You blink at her.

“How did you know?” you say.

“You’ve spent almost the entire time talking only to him. It’s a little obvious,” she says.

“Oh, no,” you say. “He’s definitely caught on, then!”

“It’s not a big deal. According to Aiku and Niko, he’s single, so that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about, and besides, if that’s the case, then he’s fair game, isn’t he? There’s nothing wrong with being interested in someone,” she says.

“He’s single? How?” you say. “You’re telling me no one’s been interested in him yet? That’s impossible.”

“There is the whole ‘locked away in a facility with zero girls’ aspect to be considered…” she says.

“Well, that’s true,” you say, feeling dumb for having forgotten that. “Do you think he’s interested in me?”

“He’s been talking to you back, right? That’s a good sign, especially since he’s been ignoring his friends to do so,” she says. “There’s a decent chance. If anything, does he seem like the kind of guy that would be mean about rejecting you? You should just ask him for his number when we get back.”

“Me? Ask for his number?” you say.

“I’ve heard girls have high success rates when they approach guys that they’re into. What’s the worst that can happen? Either way, the three of them are heading back to some weird facility after tonight, so we can just leave and never see them again if it’s awkward,” she says.

You mull this over. Nothing she’s saying is wrong, and anyways, it’s been a while since you dated someone. Besides, you’ll probably not meet someone like Barou again for a long, long time, and when you really think about it, you’d rather live with a rejection than a what-if scenario floating around in your mind for the rest of your life.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll do it, but that means you have to dump the gerbil dude and move on.”

“Did that earlier. I couldn’t stop thinking of Tinkerbell the gerbil whenever I saw his profile picture; it totally killed the mood. Thanks a lot,” she says.

“It’s my pleasure,” you say. “Now, let’s go back. I have a number to get!”

“Um, hold on,” she says. “I do actually have to pee, and the bathroom doesn’t seem too dirty.”

You sigh, because now that you’re this pumped up, you don’t want to delay any longer, but you’re not about to abandon her, so you nod towards the door.

“I’ll wait here, then. Be quick!”

“Well, well, well,” Aiku says. “Who would’ve thought we’d get to see the day?”

“What are you talking about?” Barou says when he notices that both Aiku and Niko are looking at him.

“What aren’t we talking about?” Aiku says.

“It’s Y/N,” Niko says, defusing the volatile atmosphere rather efficiently. Aiku hands him a French fry off of his plate as a form of praise; accepting it happily, Niko chews and swallows before continuing. “You like her, right?”

“What? No,” Barou says quickly — too quickly, which means the answer is the opposite of what he’s just said. Aiku steeples his fingers together, because he couldn’t have imagined things going any better, and he feels like he’s entitled to a villainous pose or two every now and again.

“You’ve been talking to her the entire time we’ve been eating, and you didn’t yell at her when she told you to calm down,” Aiku says.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Barou says.

“I guess it’s for the better,” Niko says. “Her friend told us she has a boyfriend.”

Aiku’s about to reprimand him for making things up, but before he can, he sees out of the corner of his eye that the tips of Barou’s ears have turned a surprisingly light and rosy pink, and then he can only shake his head in amazement. Niko’s really fucking good at this. Aiku almost wonders if he should ask the kid for anime recommendations or something.

“Really?” Barou says.

“Really,” Niko says.

“That’s — I mean, it’s none of my business, so why are you telling me?” Barou says.

“You’re awfully upset if that’s the case,” Aiku points out.

“I’m not upset!” Barou says. “Just…I wasn’t expecting her not to be single, that’s all.”

“Expecting, or hoping?” Aiku says. Barou glares at him but does not respond, which tells Aiku all he needs to know. “It’s okay for you to have a crush on her. She seems nice enough.”

“Yeah,” Niko says. “If you guys get along, then there’s no harm in just asking her out. We’re going back to Blue Lock after dinner anyways, so it’s not like you’ll see her in the future if you don’t want to. Can you live with yourself if you don’t give it a shot?”

“Aren’t you a king?” Aiku urges. “What kind of king doesn’t put his best foot forward at all times?”

“The kind of king that respects other people’s relationships, you chewed up wad of spearmint gum,” Barou says.

“Oh, I was just making that up,” Niko says. “I wanted to see how you’d react. She’s definitely single.”

“You—!”

Aiku and Niko are saved from another one of Barou’s tirades by the arrival of Y/N and her friend. With a final malevolent sneer, Barou continues to talk to Y/N, who seems eager to pick up where they left off. Aiku high-fives Niko under the table.

“You’re a genius, buddy,” he says.

“Does this mean you’ll buy me dessert, too?” Niko says.

“If you’ll share with me, then sure.”

“Deal.”

“When should I ask him for his number? It’ll be awkward if I do it in front of everyone, I think,” you say.

“Why would it be awkward?” she says. “I’m not about to judge you. I already know you’re going to do it.”

“I was talking about Aiku and Niko,” you say, though you’re specifically referring to Aiku — there’s a sense of naïveté to Niko, so the thought of being so bold in front of him doesn’t make you squeamish, but it’s a difference case with his counterpart. Oliver Aiku has a sort of suaveness to him that makes you feel as though he’s not been rejected once in his life, and that’s more than a little terrifying. What might such a master say about your feeble attempts at flirting? You don’t want to imagine it. The mere beginnings of the thought are preemptively giving you hives, so having the thought fully formed, or heaven forbid the actual event occurring…you shudder at the plethora of side effects you’ll no doubt undergo.

“That’s fair,” she says. “I can distract them, if you want. While we’re getting dessert, I’ll tell Aiku I’m having car trouble and ask if he can take a look. He seems like the kind of guy that would fall for that. I don’t know what to do about Niko, though…”

“He’ll probably go with Aiku, but even if he doesn’t, I think it’ll be fine if it’s just him there,” you say. “He’s pretty harmless.”

“You better not wimp out, then! If I have to embarrass myself by pretending to know nothing about cars, then the least you can do is actually ask for his number,” she says.

“I’ll do it!” you say. She obviously doesn’t believe you, so you pout. “Promise I will.”

“Fine,” she says.

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine!” she says again. “Just give me a second before we go back, then. I need to think of what kinds of issues my car will be having…”

“Hey, Aiku,” Y/N’s friend says. The entire table falls silent, including Aiku himself — he’s more than a little confused about what she could want with him. After all, he’s not done anything that would seem like he’s trying to pursue her, so there’s no reason for her to believe he’s interested, and it’s not like they’re close enough for her to be talking to him in specific.

“What’s up?” he says.

“My car is making a weird sound when it starts. I was going to wait to ask my dad when I got home, but if you know anything about cars, could you maybe…?” she says.

Aiku knows nothing about cars, and he’s about to tell her as much, but then Niko of all people is answering. He hasn’t heard the boy talk this much since they met, which means he’s really getting into this.

“Sure, we can both take a look while we wait for dessert to come,” he says. It’s suspicious, because if Aiku knows nothing about cars, then Niko’s understanding has to be in the negatives. The kid doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet, so how would he be of any help? Unless this is another skill he’s picked up from watching anime, in which case it seems like that’s another hobby Aiku needs to take up.

“Thanks,” Y/N’s friend says, clearly relieved. “Y/N, do you mind staying back so no one takes our table?”

“Barou, keep her company,” Niko says. “We don’t want them thinking we’re the dine-and-dash type.”

“It’s okay with me,” Y/N says before Barou can argue, which effectively shuts Barou up. Aiku’s beloved teammate only grunts in agreement, watching the trio out of the corner of his eyes as they scurry out of the restaurant and begin to wander about aimlessly in the parking lot.

“Can you, uh, describe this noise to me?” Aiku says. It’s not like that knowledge will really change much for him, but he thinks that it might be better if he at least pretends to put forth some effort into assisting the girl. After all, it’d be bad for business if he gets flamed as the rude, unhelpful type.

“Huh? Oh, I made that up,” she says.

“As I expected,” Niko says.

“What? Why would you do that?” Aiku says. Then he comes to a realization, and it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured over his head. “Hold on just a second, I’m not the one looking for—”

“That was a great method of leaving Y/N and Barou alone,” Niko says, cutting Aiku off before he can continue to embarrass himself. “Now they can figure things out between themselves.”

“Right?” Y/N’s friend says. “There’s only so much they can do when we’re all sitting there.”

“Yeah, awesome idea,” Aiku says, relieved to hear that she’s on their side. Girls take their friends’ opinions seriously. If Y/N’s best friend approves of Barou, then that’s a plus in Barou’s favor, and given Barou’s uniqueness, he needs all of the pluses he can get.

“And just so you know, you’re not my type, so don’t take any of this in a weird way. I just want Y/N to be happy,” she continues.

“Duly noted,” Aiku says.

“Sorry I wasn’t faster in cutting you off,” Niko whispers when Y/N’s friend pulls out her phone and begins to play on it again. Aiku shrugs.

“No worries. Nobody’s perfect,” he says. “Although, honestly? If this night ends up the way we want it to, then I’d say you’re pretty damn close regardless.”

“I’m really sorry,” Barou says as soon as your best friend, Aiku, and Niko have exited the building.

“For what?” you say. The crowd is dwindling, for the restaurant is nearing its closing time, but it’s still busy enough that you have to stay close to him in order to be able to hear what he’s saying. Or maybe that’s an excuse you’ve made for yourself; either way, he doesn’t pull back, so you remain in the comfortable space between you both.

“Aiku,” he says. “Also Niko, but mostly Aiku.”

“Why? He’s not done anything too horrible,” you say. “He’s pretty funny. And Niko seems like a nice boy.”

“They have this idea in their mind,” he says. “It’s totally stupid, but that’s why they’re acting like this. They’re not usually quite as idiotic.”

“What do you mean?” you say. You almost want to tell him to hurry up so you can ask for his number before the others come back and your best friend gets upset with you, but you’d rather listen to him talk, and anyways once you ask him for his number there’s a chance things will go wrong, so you want to soak in these last few seconds before that happens.

“I mean, you know,” he says, and then he’s turning a color you never would’ve expected from someone as reputedly tough as him. “Just that they think I like you.”

“Like me?” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Like I’m into you or something.”

You had hoped for it, but not seriously considered it — although, the teasing and whatnot do make a little more sense now that he’s added this context to it. If Aiku and Niko think he might be into you…you know you shouldn’t be fanciful, that it’ll eventually lead to disappointment, but you want to. You really want to, so when you next speak it’s tentative but optimistic.

“If you are,” you begin, nervous more than anything, though you’re certain the only cure is getting this over with, “I am, too. Into you, I mean.”

Barou’s lips are still parted as if he’s about to say something, but no words escape him. He just sits there and stares at you, as if you’ve said something profound or shocking or both. Probably both. You giggle, shifting in your seat and adjusting your position, because seeing him like this is endearing as much as it is uncomfortable.

“If you’re not, it’s alright, but my friend told me I should ask you for your number or something, so I don’t have any regrets when we leave,” you say. “She’s right, too. I’d have felt horrible forever if I never said anything.”

He’s still silent. You question if you’ve somehow caused him to malfunction, so you nudge his foot with your own under the table. This does nothing to break him out of his daze, and then you realize he’s probably trying to figure out how to best reject you, so you sigh.

“It’s okay to say no. There’s no expectation on my part. I just wanted to get it out there,” you say.

“No!” he says.

“Well, I mean, you didn’t have to be exuberant about it,” you mutter to yourself before smiling. “That’s okay, though! Thank you for listening and talking to me—”

“I mean, yes. No. I don’t know which question I’m supposed to be answering!” he says. “I do like you. That’s what I’m trying to say, but you just said so many things that I didn’t know what to respond to.”

“You like me?” you say. You had never in your wildest fantasies imagined someone like Barou being into you. It was the kind of thing that just didn’t happen, and yet, somehow, it had. Barou liked you.

“I guess so,” he says. “That’s how Aiku would phrase it, I think. I enjoy talking to you, and you have nice table manners. You kept your hands and surroundings clean, and you didn’t spill anything, which is more than can be said about a lot of people. I really appreciate that kind of trait in a person.”

“Uh, thanks?” you say, because you’ve not really been complimented on your table manners before, but it’s kind of sweet. “Yeah, thanks. I’d compliment you back, but there’s so many things to say that I wouldn’t know where to start…”

“How about with your phone number?” he says. You’re pretty sure that that’s uncharacteristically bold of him, because his eyes widen as soon as he comprehends what he’s said, but he doesn’t take it back. Instead, he waits, his hands folded carefully in his lap as he watches you, probably wondering what you’ll say in response to the request.

Smiling at him, you pull out your phone and open your hand, waiting for him to give you his.

“You got her number?” Aiku says as they’re driving home. Niko’s in the backseat this time, mostly because he offhandedly mentioned feeling nauseous after eating and Aiku has no interest in getting vomit all over him. “Way to go, man.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Barou says, gazing out of the window mysteriously. “I can’t exactly take her on dates or anything while I’m stuck in Blue Lock.”

“If you get Snuffy’s permission, you could,” Aiku says.

“We probably shouldn’t abuse that,” Niko says. “Otherwise, Ego will come up with some insane punishment for all of us. The guy’s a super-freak. I’m sure he’s got some crazy stuff stored away.”

“Very true,” Aiku says. “Don’t worry too much, though, Barou. If she’s the one, she won’t mind waiting.”

“How can I know if she’s the one when we’ve only met once? You’re delusional,” Barou says.

“It’s pretty simple,” Aiku says. “Do you want her to be?”

The moonlight hits Barou in a particularly elegant way at that moment. Aiku’s suddenly not surprised that Niko’s anime intelligence worked so well — Barou seems straight out of a girlish romance novel or TV show or something along those lines just then.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

“Then that’s that!” Aiku says, pulling into the garage and putting Snuffy’s car in park. “Trust me, there was major chemistry there, so I’m sure she’s of the same opinion.”

“It’ll work out,” Niko agrees. He’s clearly feeling much better now that they’re not in the car, his steps light and bouncy, his lips curving upwards at the corners. “You’re a great guy, Barou. We were talking about it earlier.”

Barou scoffs. “Of course I am.”

“Classic Barou,” Aiku says, throwing his arm around Barou’s shoulder. “So humble.”

“Get off of me,” Barou grumbles, shoving Aiku away, though there’s a marked gentleness to it that tells Aiku their plan worked. He’s excited to see the long-term effects — if only one dinner with Y/N was enough for Barou to relax this much, then the duration of their relationship might be akin to a vacation for the rest of the Ubers.

That night, Aiku and Niko are brushing their teeth in the bathrooms together, since nobody else is up and there’s a certain camaraderie built between them after their adventure.

“We did good today, Niko,” Aiku says after spitting his toothpaste into the sink.

“Agreed,” Niko says.

The door slams open right after he does, which is horribly ironic timing, because it reveals a furious Barou. He’s already enormous, but his fury causes him to swell until his proportions are vaguely Hulk-like and entirely terrifying. Both Aiku and Niko glance at him in confusion, because he should have no reason to be upset, and then, right before he can start yelling, it hits them like a truck.

“Hey, you donkeys,” Barou hisses. “Did you think you could distract me by taking me to dinner? That stain is still there. Can neither of you do anything for yourselves? I’m going to kill you both, mark my words!”

Aiku groans. Niko face-palms.

Fuck.

#barou x reader #barou x you #barou x y/n #barou shoei #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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it-happened-one-fic · 6 months ago

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Gentle Care - Jade

Author Notes: So, this is another fanfic that has been sitting, collecting dust in my Google Docs for quite some time now. It is finally getting to see the light of day because I wanted to post a Jade fic (totally not because of any cards that recently came out on the Japanese server). I didn't really listen to anything specific while writing this, so I really can't say there is any specific inspiration for this fic either. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ flirtation/ romance implied/ fluff

Word Count: 1393

When Azul had called to ask for your assistance in patching someone up, you hadn’t been surprised.

First, you’d gotten very good at handling bandages and whatnot simply due to your numerous Overblot experiences. You always ended up with a myriad of bumps and scrapes after those.

Secondly, Floyd getting into a fight was hardly uncommon, so the idea of him being a little scraped up was hardly startling.

Finally, Floyd was perpetually mercurial, and if he’d even implied that he’d sit still and let you bandage him without squirming around, then Azul would do what it took to get you to Octavinelle just to ensure Floyd didn’t cause him any more of a headache.

An added bonus was that Octavinelle had all the supplies you could ever dream of, so there wasn’t even any need for you to bring anything with you. In fact, Grim even stayed at Ramshackle, opting not to join you on your little jaunt to Octavinelle. Though he did make sure to put in a request that you bring home some food for him that had you rolling your eyes slightly as you slipped out the door.

Your only real concerns on the trip to the mirror chamber were whether or not the other person had survived the altercation and how exactly you were going to scold the injured eel, even though you knew perfectly well that your words would do little good to keep him from getting into yet another fight.

Those thoughts vanished though when you stepped into the Mostro Lounge and found yourself greeted with an unexpected sight.

Jade, sitting there as calmly as ever despite the bruises and red scratch marks that were sprinkled across his person as he talked to his brother, who was currently crouched in front of him, “Yes, it seems they mistook me for you, Floyd. Handling them was an easy matter, but-”

Jade halted mid-sentence as he spotted you, his eyes widening briefly before his usual, carefully crafted smile appeared, “I wasn’t expecting you quite yet, Y/n. I do hope you didn't rush.”

It was those oh-so polite words that immediately sparked your ire, sending you striding forward and snatching the bandages off a nearby table as you did so. After all, that long red scratch on his arm looked particularly nasty.

“Do I want to know?” Your irritation was obvious to everyone present, but no one seemed terribly concerned. But, to be fair, you were already kneeling and inspecting the young man’s injuries.

Azul let out a sigh, stepping into the room and holding a stack of papers, “It seems that a group of juniors looking for a fight mistook Jade for Floyd.”

“It’s alright though, Shrimpy. Jade handled ‘em all perfectly well.” Despite Floyd’s reassurance, you were hardly pleased. Eying the tell-tale burn that affirmed that magic had indeed been used in the fight despite school rules.

You glanced up, immediately making eye contact with the injured young man who’d been sitting silently, with a slight smile on his face as he’d watched you this entire time. Almost as if he were gauging the situation before he said anything.

“So you got in a fight you could’ve avoided?” Your flat tone said everything, and Azul took it as a cue to leave. With a single motion, he signaled Floyd, and the two exited the space. Floyd linger long enough to cast a single glance that flickered between you and his brother over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Jade met your accusation with an easy calmness and no small degree of amusement, “I wouldn’t be so sure. That group seemed to have quite a bit of aggression towards my dorm and probably didn’t really care if it was me or Floyd.”

You remained silent as he continued, going about bandaging some of the worse scratches while he calmly spread burn cream on his arm, “And even if I had made them aware of my identity and they’d left, it would’ve simply meant my dear brother would be in my current position, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

You pressed a band-aid down with a bit more pressure than strictly necessary as your eyes found his, “Don’t play coy with me, Jade. You wanted to get in that fight.”

You had to curb your urge to roll your eyes at the innocent expression he gave you before you continued, “You’re far too smug to have not gotten your way.”

With those words, you stood, grabbing another band-aid and turning your attention to the scratch marks that were scattered across his face, “So who were they?”

He smiled, his sharp teeth flashing as he did so, “Three of them were beastmen. I personally thought the Diasomna fellow was stronger, though. But don’t worry, all of them are in far worse shape than me.”

You snorted in response to his all too smug response, your amused tone not matching your chiding words, “Don’t gloat.”

Despite yourself, you were smiling even as Jade spoke again, his tone getting gradually more amused, “It works for Floyd.”

Your gaze flickered over to his, your hands carefully placing the band-aid on his cheek as you frowned at him, “No, it doesn’t, and it won’t for you either. I treat you two the same way.”

You gently smoothed the too-tan fabric across his pale cheek, and he chuckled, “Surely you know better than to lie to me, my dear.”

Your movements stilled as his hand reached up and wrapped around one of yours, his gaze holding yours captive as he smiled like he’d won some sort of game, “You and I both know you treat me far differently than how you treat my brother.”

You tugged at your hand gently, and Jade let it go with ease even as his fingers carefully brushed the skin on his cheek where your hand had just been with a distinctly pleased expression, “Your gentle care for me proves it.”

You crossed your arms, shaking your head slightly as you frowned down at him, “Don’t tease. I might be helping you right now, but I will leave.”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting to a feigned mask of betrayed hurt, “And abandon me to the care of Azul and Floyd? You wouldn’t be so cruel.”

You rolled your eyes slightly at his dramatics but reached over and grabbed another band-aid, “I might. You never know when I’ll surprise you.”

A smile curved across his face as his gaze stayed locked on you even as you focused on one of the other scratches on his otherwise pristine skin, “Indeed, I never do….”

You hummed slightly as he trailed off, “Right, so you’d best watch it and not get hurt like this again. I might not take care of you next time.”

“Wouldn’t that mean playing favorites since you’ve kept on helping every time Floyd gets himself hurt?” He didn’t miss a beat, and you frowned at him, causing him to chuckle, “I won’t make any promises. I rather enjoy getting taken care of, you know.”

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder in a faux slap, “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” You paused, turning to look over your shoulder as you called out to Azul and Floyd that you were done.

Jade tilted his head as you looked back his way, his smile still present as he looked up at you where you stood between his spraddled out legs from his seated position, “Leaving so soon? Floyd made dinner.”

You snorted lightly, shaking your head at his coaxing tone even as Floyd stepped out of the kitchen, “You staying for dinner, Shrimpy?”

You held Jade’s gaze as you felt a smile spread across your face, and, despite yourself, there was very little hesitation as you called back, “Sure! Sounds good!”

And once again, Jade’s smile was all too smug, but at this point that was nothing new. Especially since you knew perfectly well that if he, or Azul, or Floyd, got hurt again, you’d be back to take care of them once again, even though all of you knew it was hardly necessary.

And that was even taking into account that you did play favorites. But you weren’t about to admit that to Jade, and, judging from the smile on his face, he already knew anyway.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

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You Make Me Wanna 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Headlights flash across a white garage door. The car jerks to a stop and you look at the suburban house before you. The red brick and trimmed hedges are shadowy as yellow light glows from behind the front door. Another light flicks on upstairs as Walter shuts off the engine and plucks up his phone.

You stay as you are, arms crossed as you stare over at him. He unbuckles his belt, letting it snap back, and he climbs out, shifting the whole car with his weight. You shake your head and roll your eyes. You’ll wait until he’s inside and fuck off.

The escape is quickly stymied as he stomps around to the passenger side and opens the door. As he grabs your arm, you struggle to release yourself from the seat belt. You shove him away as you get up and steady yourself against the car.

“Stop,” you whine. “Jesus.”

“She better be here,” he snarls and snaps his fingers at you.

You sigh and follow his pointing finger up the walk. He falls into step with you and his footsteps take the stairs heavily. Boom, boom, boom. His approach is thunderous in the calm suburban din.

He pounds on the door and jabs at the doorbell. You shake your head and hug yourself as the evening sends a chill up your spine. Faye is not going to be happy and when she’s pissed, she reminds you a lot of her father.

Walter continues his assault on the front door and finally a shadow flickers from within. Clumsy steps stutter to the other side and the latch flips back. A guy you vaguely recognise opens it from inside. Your escort growls and clamps his hand around the door frame.

“Where the fuck is my daughter?” He sneers.

“Huh? Who the hell--”

“Faye!” Walter booms past the guy.

“Yo, you can’t just--”

“I can just, buddy,” Walter grabs the guy by his scruff, “I’m a cop and you got my fucking daughter in here--”

“Holy fuck!”

“Dad!” Faye squeals and comes barreling down the stairs, “get off! What are you even doing here? How do you--”

She stops as she spots you watching half-drunk from the doorway. You put your hands up and shrug, mouthing ‘sorry’. She scowls and turns her ire back on her father.

“You are so embarrassing! I’m an adult. I can do what I want--”

Walter shoves aside the man in his maw and storms towards his daughter.

“Can you, now? Why don’t you get a goddamn job and go find somewhere you can pay rent because as long as you live under my roof, you’re not an adult. You don’t get to go home with strangers.”

Your brows raise and you back up. This would be a great time to leave. You don’t think Faye is gonna talk to you for a while after this and Walter, well, you don’t really care.

You turn and drag your feet across the porch. What a disaster. Hey, it might save you from a future of these nights. You’re about done with the whole drinking and clubbing nonsense. Dancing isn’t too bad but there’s many guys buzzing around and Faye doesn’t bother swatting them away.

You stop at the curb and look around. You don’t know this neighbourhood. Once you find a street name, you’re sure you’ll be able to track down a train terminal or something and get home. Great, more money spent.

Is this what life is going to be for you? Depressing, dim, defeating. Faye, well, she’s a pretty girl, from a decent upbringing, these are her wild oats. She’ll sow them and be off to bigger better things once her name is on that degree. But you, you stick around in shady bars and you’ll be just another washed out loser.

You get a few blocks away before you can get your data to kick in. You'll use your measly megabits in moments. Right, okay. Buses aren’t running at 2am and the train station is twenty minutes away. Fun, walking in the dark, alone.

You don’t have much of a choice. You keep on. The glare of headlights comes up behind you, illuminating your silhouette against the hedges and pavement. You don’t look. Not until the car slows beside you.

“Get in,” Walter orders brusquely.

You scoff and cross your arms.

“It’s not safe out here.”

“Like you care.”

“I’m a detective, it’s my job.”

“Well, I’m out of your jurisdiction, detective, don’t gotta worry about me,” you roll your eyes.

“Would you just--”

You stop and face him as he hits the brakes and stops completely.

“Where’s Faye?” You sniff.

“So now you care?”

“Wow, well, you can stop pretending to be Mr. Detective Good Guy,” you grit, “really, I didn’t tell her to get with that dude. If you listened, you’d know that’s the last thing I wanted. I don’t wanna be ditched for some stranger.” You shake your head and flick your hand dismissively, “not that you even care. So please, I’m gonna catch a train and go home. Don’t worry, you won’t see me any time soon. Sir.”

You attach the last word as punctuation before you spin on your heel. You sneer into the darkness as you stroll away. You really can’t believe him. It’s like he’s so caught up in playing the hero detective in his working hours, that off the clock he can only be an asshole.

Well, he isn’t your dad. He doesn’t make the rules for you. He is not your law.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #you make me wanna #series #au #the club #night hunter

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pitufitaispunk · 4 months ago

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Velvet Ring

Chapter One: Unforgiving Sun

Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader (West Side Story 2021)

Velvet Ring Masterlist

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

June 3, 1957

I groan dramatically as I try to cool myself down with Anita's red folding fan, the flimsy lace hardly does anything to relieve me of the humid air. I squirm in my bed, the fuzzy fabric of my knitted blanket feels unbearable against my skin in this heat. Just as I toss the fan onto the floor, Anita twirls into my bedroom with a flourish. She has a bright smile on her face, the puffed skirt of her lavender dress swishes as she walks.

She begins rummaging through my drawers aimlessly, "Nena, voy a recoger- is that my fan?" She points down to the floor, her brow quirked at me. I confess that I almost always take Anita’s things without asking her and she gets annoyed with me for it, but she can’t stay mad at me for long. We’re a lot like blood sisters in that way.

I smile sheepishly and quickly sit up, watching as Anita snatches the fan off the floor, "Can you blame me for taking it? It's the hottest day of summer!" I exclaim, adjusting the straps of my white slip.

Anita rolls her eyes at me and slams the dresser drawer shut, "It's not even 100 degrees out. Get up and get dressed. I'm going out to buy some fabric." Now it's my turn to quirk my brow at her.

"What are you buying more fabric for?" I ask. Anita tilts her head and sighs, as if I should know the reason why.

"You do remember there's going to be a dance in a few weeks, yes?"

I toss myself face down onto the bed again and groan, burying my face in my pillow, "¡No quiero ir! Nardo will make me go with one of his friends and I hate dancing in front of people and it will be so crowded-" Anita forces me to sit up.

"You're young! You should be enjoying your life, not spending it locked away in your room. The only time you ever get out of this apartment is to work. You're going to the dance y eso es definitivo. You'll wear a beautiful dress — thanks to me, of course— and I'll make sure Bernardo picks a friend that is a good dancer to be your date." Anita grins and I know her word is final.

I roll my eyes and get up from my bed, "Está bien. I'll come with you to buy the fabric, just let me get dressed." I walk over to my dresser and grab a blouse and a skirt.

Anita squeals excitedly and runs into the kitchen to grab her coin purse, "Apúrate, I want to go before the morning rush!"

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

I always loved going to the market with Anita, even on sweltering days like this. The bustling crowds and constant chatter made me feel at home. When we lived in Puerto Rico, my mother used to take Bernardo and I with her when she went shopping. Bernardo always hated it, the old ladies that worked the stalls would pinch his cheeks and comment on how handsome he was getting. My mother and I laughed at how embarrassed he would get. So now, I appreciate when Anita lets me tag along with her to the market.

Anita tsks softly as she looks through the different rolls of fabric, "I think I will make my dress black..." She mutters to herself.

I turn my head and gasp as I notice a sleek red fabric. Anita huffs a laugh, "Mamita, you know your brother would never let me make you a dress from that fabric."

I pout, "Why does he treat me like I'm still a baby? I'm 18, a grown up! I should be able wear whatever color dress I want." I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

Anita laughs, "Lo siento, Y/N, pero I'm making you a white dress... and if you want people to stop treating you like a baby, then stop pouting like one."

I scoff at her words. Deep down I know she’s right, but white is just so bland and boring. Who would notice the girl in the simple white dress? Nobody. It's like Bernardo wants me to be single all my life. That is if he doesn’t marry me off to one of his friends.

I sigh as Anita begins looking through the different spools of white fabric.

"I think you will look beautiful in this." She says with a smile, holding up a sheet of lacy white fabric.

I can't help the way my gaze softens as I imagine the delicate lace turned into a dress, "Maybe a white dress won't be so bad."

Anita pats my shoulder, grabbing a spool of black fabric for her dress and the lacy white fabric she picked for mine, "I'll go pay for these, you wait here." I nod, watching as Anita heads up to the vendor.

I hum softly to myself as I continue browsing the fabrics for fun as I wait for Anita to come back. Crash!

My head snaps up at the loud noise. I immediately see a group of white boys running away from knocked over crates of fruit a few stalls over. They laughed and whooped triumphantly as they made their escape, their pale sweaty skin glistening beneath the harsh sunlight. The Jets. I roll my eyes and am about to continue looking through the fabric when one boy catches my eye. I pinch my brows curiously as he picks up a mango from one of the knocked over crates and rubs it on his shirt, halfheartedly cleaning it before biting into it. The mango’s juice drips down his chin and onto his neck, I feel my cheeks heat up. I note that he’s a bit scrawny, he’s got slightly toned tattooed arms and a broad chest, but he’s still skinny enough where I wonder if this mango is the first ‘meal’ he’s had in a while. I slowly raise my gaze to his face again and realize he’s staring right at me. I’m frozen in place by his blue eyes. His lips quirk into a hint of a smirk before he hurries away to catch up with the other boys, tossing the bitten mango over his shoulder.

“Y/N!” Anita’s voice calls behind me, startling me just a bit. I turn and watch her walk over to me, a grin on her face and a brown paper bag in her hand. She shakes the bag slightly, making the fabrics inside rustle, “I got them. Let’s go home.” I nod and traipse behind Anita back to our apartment.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Once Anita and I get home, we’re greeted by Bernardo and two other Sharks at the dining room table. I notice they all look a bit serious, Nardo was tending to the wounds on his fists, but as soon as he notices us, he smiles.

“Hey, where were you two?” Bernardo asks kindly, though his brows were still slightly furrowed in concern. Nardo always did that. Whenever he’s feeling worried or scared about something, he slaps on a fake smile and acts like nothing is bothering him. Usually his concern is revolving around the Jets, but he never brought that business home. Sometimes, I can hear him and Anita talking about it through the walls, but he’s never spoken directly to me about the whole gang rivalry with the Jets.

Anita smiles and walks over to him, “We were just picking up some things for our dresses.” She leans down and kisses his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain. “¿Y ustedes? What were you doing?” Bernardo smiles broadly and guides Anita into his lap, “After we finished up at the gym, we talked about…” He looks up at me, his face hardening momentarily, “Things.” He gives her a tight lipped smile, Anita nods curtly in understanding.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously and take a seat across from him, “What kind of things, Bernardo?” He just chuckles at me, “Don’t worry about that, pollita.” I roll my eyes at the nickname. It was my family’s name for me as a child because my legs were skinny like a baby chick’s. Bernardo always called me pollita in front of his friends to embarrass me. I assume he’s using it now to shut me up, but it takes a lot more than a little name to get me to stop talking.

I sigh, “Nardo, no soy una bebé. I should know about the Jets y-“ He shakes his head vehemently.

“No, pollita. Es demasiado peligroso, I don’t want you getting mixed up in all this. Tienes que entender que el mundo de las pandillas no es para chiquillas como tú.”

I slump in my seat in defeat. I knew my brother was serious and although I still felt like arguing with him, I knew that wouldn’t help me in convincing him that I am a mature adult. I decide to drop the topic of the Jets for now, but I was going to learn more about them one way or another.

I check the time and realize I have to start heading to work.

“Ya tengo que irme.” I mutter, standing from my seat. For the past three months, I've been working at a flower shop, La Orquídea. My boss, Señora Rivera, is a little old woman with curly gray hair and a shorter stature. She always wears bright red lipstick and the frilly pink apron from our uniform over a frumpy dress— she’s also always napping on the job. I don’t mind working at the florería too much. However, I previously wanted to get a job at Doc’s because Valentina is a kind woman and I feel comfortable with her, but Nardo protested the idea. He claimed that too many Jets hung around Doc’s and that I should work somewhere that was deeper into Sharks territory. Obviously, I tried to reason with him, but when Nardo puts his foot down, he doesn’t budge.

Anita stands from Bernardo’s lap and hugs me, “Que tienes un buen día, nena.”

I smile at her then lean down to hug Nardo as well. He pats my back, “Ten cuidado.” He says softly, his expression serious as he points up at me.

I laugh, grabbing my purse and packed lunch from the kitchen counter, “I’m always careful.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

#mike faist #west side story #riff lorton #riff lorton x reader #anita #bernardo #west side story 2021 #mike faist x reader #riff west side story

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cyb-by-lang · 2 months ago

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Cascade (part 13)

Wherein the kids go to the hospital and Kei's brain deletes the inevitable public safety lectures right out of long-term storage.

“I’m so sorry.” And despite the difficulty, Tenya leaned down to try and bow as deeply as he could.

Gekkō hauled him back upright by the collar of his costume. While Tenya blinked away the headrush, Gekkō set him firmly on his feet despite their height difference, and then her finger tapped against the tip of Tenya’s nose. “Apologize once you’re in the hospital. Bowing is for people who weren’t stabbed.”

“Then you shouldn’t be so cavalier with your injuries either,” Tenya protested. “Or weren’t you struck by that monster?”

Gekkō paused, frowned, then took the time to dig around in her pockets for a handkerchief. Despite the blood, it appeared she was either not in serious pain or else simply didn’t care to treat herself as delicately as she might treat her friends. Even slightly cleaning up made her look less ghastly, though the resemblance to a murderous tanuki remained.

It didn’t really get rid of the slightly acrid smell of burnt hair and cloth.

“Let’s get Native,” Todoroki said, instead of letting them continue to argue. “Midoriya, you have Iida?”

“Yeah. And Gekkō-san, you’re okay?”

“I can walk.”

“Then that’s enough,” Midoriya said, steeling his expression. “Let’s move.”

And this was when the adults—pro heroes—finally showed up.

---------------

There was a lot of yelling after the pro heroes—led by one tiny old man named Gran Torino—arrived to the moderately disordered alleyway. Sure, Todoroki’s ice prison for the villain was the main evidence for the whole fight happening. But given the cuts and stab wounds sported in various depths and degrees by everyone except him, there wasn��t a lot of room for skating out from under the drama without a lecture.

Or five.

In order:

Gran Torino read Midoriya the riot act for ditching the train they’d been riding during the attack and rushing into battle.

Two pros yelled at Midoriya and Kei for obviously not evacuating when ordered.

Endeavor tracked down Todoroki to glower at him. It warped the strength of his ire to see that a) his son had indeed captured the Hero Killer and b) he hadn’t. Some weird mix of pride by proxy and just injured pride, and Todoroki clearly hated the first thing more than the second.

Then Manual finally tracked them down at the hospital and lectured Iida for running off and Kei for doubling down. Gran Torino sat in on it.

And then, finally, the fucking chief of police showed up, explained that everyone here would be in deep shit if the full story of what happened got out to the press, then said he was letting them off. They had to sign NDAs—as much as those bound anybody under the age of eighteen—and then publicly credited the entire “catch the Hero Killer” thing to Endeavor to neaten the rest of the paperwork.

Todoroki, displaying a temper Kei didn’t know he had, actually argued with the guy. Kei didn’t remember his exact points now, but noted that Todoroki had a temper for future reference.

“Gekkō-san,” Midoriya ventured once the adults had finally left them alone, “that thing with your eyes…?”

Oh, and Kei was stuck in the hospital with them.

Yet another reason to be annoyed at the evening. Her shoulder wound wasn’t bad even before Isobu took care of it, but there was a leftover scrape from when she’d cut off his chakra. Luckily, activating Stain’s Quirk required hardly any blood, so everyone was convinced she’d just taken a shallow injury in the first place and just bled a lot. Sure, maybe the hospital wanted to see if Kei had anemia, but she’d flatly canceled everything but the tetanus shot.

She’d live.

(Sensei had already worked out a deal with Nezu to get her blood samples replaced on the sly.)

“If I overuse my Quirk, there’s a backlash,” Kei told him. Her tone should have served as a warning. “It happens.”

No way in hell was she explaining Isobu’s presence to these kids. Or the unfortunate, coincidental overlap of Isobu’s and Kei’s personal traumas and warring instincts causing blood vessels in her eyes to stop playing nice. It was dramatic and mostly harmless and made Kei want to reach through reality to throttle a certain mangaka. If Stain’s Quirk hadn’t kept people immobile, there was a very real chance Kei’s body would’ve followed through on Isobu’s impulses and crushed his skull barehanded.

But it did, and they didn’t, and everyone asked different questions.

“But you controlled way more water during the USJ incident,” Midoriya pointed out, justifiably. “Does creating water cause more strain on your Quirk? Or, well, you signed up to work with Manual, so I guess I assumed that you’d be able to make a reservoir for him to use if there was an emergency.”

Looking across two classmates toward Midoriya, Kei favored him with her most deadpan expression. “Kurogiri threw us into a lake.”

“Oh.” One of Midoriya’s scarred hands came up to cover his mouth as he thought. “Does that mean your Quirk’s influence and control scales logarithmically with the amount of water in your environment? If it does, maybe your next internship should be with Selkie, like Tsuyu-san. Being out on the coast would give you a lot more power to work with.”

“I guess.” Kei barely remembered what a logarithm was. If Cementoss’s lectures leaned that way, Kei had completely spaced out during class.

“But about the glow?”

“It makes more sense if you realize she’s related to Aizawa-sensei,” said Todoroki. The utter bastard.

Kei stared directly at her two-toned classmate. Then mimed strangling him with both hands.

#cascade #shell game #crossover #keisuke gekko #catch your breath fanfic #iida tenya #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #my hero academia

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kckt88 · 1 year ago

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Moth to a flame.

Summary:

Aemond has always had a thing for his older brother’s best friend.

Warning(s): Language, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Smut – Fingering, Oral sex (M & F Receiving), P in V, Safe Sex, Multiple Orgasms.

MODERN AEMOND x Y.N

INSPIRED BY THE SONG - SWEDISH HOUSE MAFIA FT THE WEEKEND - MOTH TO A FLAME.

Word Count: 2915

Taglist - @zeciex

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

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Aemond groaned in frustration as his brothers groans of pleasure grew louder, the rhythmic sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Selfish prick-“ muttered Aemond the jealousy bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Aemond had always had a thing for his brother’s best friend, ever since they’d been introduced, she lived in the apartment across from them and Aegon being the more confident of the brothers had spoken to her first, with the pair of them becoming firm friends.

She was currently studying a degree in English and History at the local university in the hopes of becoming a teacher someday, all whilst working at a grocery store.

Aside from the fact that she was intelligent, kind, generous, and funny, Aemond also liked the fact that she was immune to Aegon’s garish attempts at seduction, politely declining his repeated advances until he finally gave up his pursuit.

But they struck up a firm friendship nonetheless and from then on Y.N had become a regular fixture in both of their lives. That was two years ago and every day since then had felt like torture.

In a way he was slightly envious of Aegon when it came to matters of the opposite sex, his older brother never had any issues charming the pants off literally every woman that took his fancy whereas he was still a virgin at the age of twenty one.

Gods it was so embarrassing, of course he wanted to have sex, but he just couldn’t get past his own shyness and insecurity over the scar on his face and his missing eye, that he never reciprocated any woman’s advances, not that there were many anyway.

He was convinced they were doing it out of pity or simply an attempt to mock him, and he didn’t want to feel vulnerable in that way, so he simply stayed away and guarded his heart and his feelings.

He liked to imagine all the ways he would please Y.N, with his fingers, his tongue, and his cock, he wanted her in every way possible, but he was too damn shy to even try so he resigned himself to fucking his fist whenever the urge got too much.

And now he’d missed his chance, Y.N was next door fucking his brother and it made him angry, gods Aegon was such a prick, he knew of his feelings for Y.N and still he’d pursued her and fucked her. How many times had they done it? How long had it been going on for? And by the gods Aemond would kill Aegon if he discarded Y.N like she was nothing.

Aegon wasn’t the best when it came to dealing with the aftermath of his pursuits, he enjoyed the chase, did what he had to in order to get what he wanted and then threw them away as if they were nothing.

Aemond had lost count of the amount of women who would come banging on their door, looking for Aegon after he had ghosted them, it was actually exhausting.

“For fuck sake” muttered Aemond as he rubbed his eye and stared at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

After figuring out that trying to sleep was a pointless endeavour Aemond got out of bed, not like he could sleep with that racket going on next door anyway.

Slipping on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, Aemond left his room and walked into the kitchen, perhaps a drink and a smoke would dampen his ire, or maybe he’d finally check out that series on Netflix that Aegon kept insisting he watch.

After running a hand through his dark hair, Aemond opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap and taking a large gulp as he turned around.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST” shouted Aemond as he spotted Y.N sitting at the table, her face illuminated only by her laptop screen.

“Sorry -I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Y.N softly.

“W-What are you doing here?” gasped Aemond.

“My WIFI is out so Aeg said I could use yours-I have an assignment due at the end of the week,” said Y.N motioning to her laptop and the mountain of books beside it.

“No-I meant what are you doing out here, I thought you was in Aegon’s room”.

“Why would I be in Aeg’s room?” asked Y.N

“Well, I-I heard him with someone and-“

“-So you just naturally assumed that it was me?” muttered Y.N frowning.

“N-No-it’s just he said earlier that he’d asked you to come over” replied Aemond.

“He did ask me, but I had a shift at the shop, and then he said something about Cassandra”.

Aemond could feel his cock stirring in his trousers at the sight of Y.N sitting at the table in her short p.js, with one leg raised.

The material of her shorts rid higher on her thigh, exposing her creamy flesh.

“Oh, so that’s who’s in his room” muttered Aemond the feeling of relief washing over him.

“I guess so, he’s been trying to get in her knickers for a while, so his questionable attempts at flirting have finally paid off,” said Y.N shrugging.

“I guess” mumbled Aemond.

“You honestly thought that I was with him?” asked Y.N her eyes lingering on Aemond’s bare chest, her teeth catching on her lower lip at the sparse chest hair and the silver cross chain he wore.

“Yeah-sorry about that” whispered Aemond.

“I had hoped that you would think better of me” replied Y.N.

“I don’t think about you at all” lied Aemond his tone a little sharper than he intended.

“Oh really?” asked Y.N as she slowly rose from the chair.

“N-No” gasped Aemond, his face suddenly feeling very hot.

“I see the way you look at me-“ muttered Y.N

“I-I don’t-“ stuttered Aemond, his eye focused on the thin strap of Y.N’s top that had slipped down her shoulder.

“I like the way you look at me-“ whispered Y.N

“Y.N-“ exclaimed Aemond as she reached forward and gently cupped the scared side of his face.

“So beautiful” whispered Y.N.

“N-No I’m not” muttered Aemond lowering his head.

“Yes, you are-“ said Y.N as she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his scared cheek.

Aemond’s heart was pounding in his chest, he could smell the sweet scent of Y.N’s perfume and feel the heat from the proximity of her body.

Y.N seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move, she smiled softly as she reached down to take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond stood mute, his mind screaming at him to lean forward and kiss her, the girl of his dreams was standing in front of him in her short p.js looking at him expectantly.

He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed but the heat of Y.N’s body suddenly moved away from him, taking his silence as a rejection of her advance.

“I’m sorry-“ muttered Y.N her cheeks tinged pink.

Aemond could only stand there as he watched Y.N rapidly collecting her things, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Tell Aeg thanks for letting me use the WIFI-“ said Y.N as she rushed towards the door, her breath hitching in her throat as she struggled with the door handle before pulling it open and running across the hall to her own flat.

Aemond blinked and slowly he came back to himself.

Y.N had propositioned him, and he’d just stood there like a complete twat and now she’d fled the apartment and would likely never return for fear of running into him.

No, that just wouldn’t do. Y.N was different from other girls; she didn’t look repulsed at the sight of his scar or pretend it didn’t exist.

She had called him beautiful, and he’d just stood there, and not said a word.

He could have been kissing her right now, and yet he was still standing there.

With a huff of annoyance, Aemond stalked forward and wrenched open the door, he didn’t care that he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, he just wanted to make things right with Y.N.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

She didn’t answer, so he knocked again and again.

“Please Y.N-Open the door” begged Aemond as he pressed his forehead against the wood.

He internally cursed his own stupidity and was about to give up when he suddenly lurched forward as the door flew open.

“Aemond-“ muttered Y.N.

“-Y.N” replied Aemond as he gently cupped her face with both hands and pressed his lips against hers.

He pulled away for a moment so he could quickly kick the door closed and then his mouth descended upon Y.N’s again.

Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips as Y.N’s pierced tongue slid against his.

Y.N slowly slid her hands up the back of Aemond’s neck and into his hair and pulled it slightly, delighting in the little moan he made.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Not having any clue at all where this bravado came from, but he was more than content to roll with it.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slots himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his sweatpants.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh-baby girl you have no idea” rasped Aemond.

“Bedroom” muttered Y.N.

Aemond nodded eagerly as he lowered Y.N to the floor and took her hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

Of course, he’d been in Y.N’s flat plenty of times for movie nights and game nights, but this night was totally different. It was the night that he would lose his virginity.

As they entered her bedroom, Y.N gently cupped his face and pressed her forehead against his.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything-I want you” replied Aemond.

“If things get too much for you-We can stop” whispered Y.N.

“I know”

Y.N smiled as she stepped back from Aemond and reached down to pull off her strappy top.

Aemond stared open mouthed as he gazed at Y.N’s bare breasts, he reached out with a shaking hand and gently ran his fingers over her nipple that had hardened in the cool air of the room.

“You are so beautiful” exclaimed Aemond, of course he’d seen breasts before, but none as exquisite as Y.N’s.

“As are you my dragon”.

Aemond blushed as he watched Y.N hook her fingers into the waistband of her p.j shorts and pull them down.

His mouth watered as he gazed at her naked body, she was indescribably beautiful. Her pale flesh, her rosy nipples, the rose tattoo on her hip and the neatly trimmed thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Y-You are perfect” muttered Aemond as he leaned forward and pressed a series of gentle kisses to Y.N’s neck.

“Aemond” whimpered Y.N.

Suddenly coming to the realisation that he needed to be naked too, Aemond reached down and began to push down his sweatpants and boxers but Y.N stopped him.

“Allow me” muttered Y.N as she sank to her knees and pulled his sweatpants down.

Y.N’s eyes widened slightly as his hard cock sprang free and slapped up against his abdomen, sure she’d felt it over his sweatpants but to actually see it, was another matter entirely. Aemond had truly been blessed, he was very well endowed.

“C-Can I take you in my mouth?” asked Y.N.

“Yes” whispered Aemond, his chest heaving.

Gods it was like heaven, the moment Y.N’s warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock, Aemond knew he was done for.

The metal of her piecing rubbed against his shaft as she moved her mouth up and down his length.

“F-Fuck” groaned Aemond as his cock throbbed, his seed spilling inside her mouth.

Y.N hummed around his cock before she looked him in the eye and swallowed every last drop.

“Shit-shit, I-I’m sorry” exclaimed Aemond his cheeks tinged pink.

“It’s ok-really” replied Y.N wiping the corners of her mouth.

“I wanted it to last longer” whispered Aemond as he helped Y.N to stand up.

“Don’t worry. There are other things we can do whilst we wait for you to be ready again” replied Y.N as she took Aemond’s hand and led him to bed.

“I-I want to k-kiss you down there” said Aemond shyly.

“Ok” said Y.N softly as she laid back on the bed and opened her legs.

Aemond groaned as he gazed at her glistening folds, gods she was beautiful there too.

“Let me guide you-“ muttered Y.N.

Aemond nodded eagerly as he climbed onto the bed and laid down between her open legs.

“You can use your tongue, your fingers or both at the same time-let me show you”.

Aemond observed intently as he watched Y.N’s fingers encircled what she called her ‘pearl’ soon his insides were squirming, and his fingers were itching for him to take over and bury his face into her cunny and bring her to peak.

“P-please let me, I-I want to” begged Aemond as he pressed forward.

“Oh-“ moaned Y.N as she felt Aemond’s tongue gently run along her slit.

“Hm, are you always this wet” rasped Aemond.

“Only for you” moaned Y.N as Aemond’s mouth slowly descended on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue, in and out.

Y.N clutched the bedspread above her head, her fingers digging into the fabric, gods he was a fast learner.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“Are you going to come for me?” asked Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Y/N arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Y/N’s inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y/N.

Aemond rose from the bed, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then put them in his mouth, savouring the delicious taste of Y/N.

“W-Was that alright?” asked Aemond nervously.

“You were amazing”.

Aemond blushed furiously as Y.N directed him to lay on her bed.

“I’m on the pill, but I have condoms” asked Y.N gesturing to the draw of her nightstand.

“No-I want to feel you” replied Aemond.

Y.N smiled as she moved over Aemond’s body, her slick folds rubbing against his cock.

Gods he was so hard, it was bordering on painful.

Y.N reached down and Aemond groaned as he felt her warm hand wrap around his cock and guide it to her wet entrance.

“A-Are you sure?” asked Y.N.

“Yes-Please Y.N I want you” exclaimed Aemond.

Y.N took a deep breath as the tip of his cock pressed inside her.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck, Aemond" moaned Y.N as she slowly sunk down on his cock.

“Please” begged Aemond his fingers digging into her hips.

“I’m going to move now” whispered Y.N as she rolled her hips against his.

“Yes” moaned Aemond as he began to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of Y.N squeezing his cock.

“Aemond-“ whimpered Y.N as he began teasing her pearl with his fingers, his cock throbbing inside her.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Y.N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

If this was heaven, then Y.N was at the centre of it, and he never wanted to leave.

Aemond looked at where they were joined, and he groaned at the sight of his cock shiny with her slick, this was everything he’d hoped it would be and he was glad that he got to share this with her.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y.N.

Y.N looked amazing as she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her skin shining with sweat.

Y.N clamped down around Aemond’s cock so hard he could hardly move. That, combined with how glorious Y.N looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Y.N” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside her wet heat.

Y.N collapsed on top of Aemond for a moment, her chest heaving.

Aemond gently moved his hands up and down her back, savouring the feeling of his softened cock still nestled snugly inside her.

After a few minutes, Y.N slowly moved off Aemond and flopped onto the mattress next to him.

Basking in the after glow of his orgasm, Aemond moved onto his side and pressed his face into Y.N’s neck.

“Does this mean that your my girlfriend now?”

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