#it’s only 500 words though so it’s fine

[louiswilliamtomlinsons]

girl who hit post limit last night afraid of hitting post limit again but it’s the one year anniversary of his favorite album of all time so they need to post about it all day

[e77y]

Such a horrifying feeling to finish an assignment at 11:59, revel in your victory for a few minutes, close out of it to the Canvas homepage, and see tomorrow’s assignments already waiting for you on your to-do list because it’s past midnight

[mcrdvcks]

Call It What You Want

Summary: A single sneeze turns into something more, at least to your husband Logan.

Word Count: 1.9k+

Pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Notes: i'm feeling a bit sick and i remember i had written this a while ago so here it is :)

i actually have a few other ideas and short oneshots written in this universe so i might upload some more sporadically

(also thank you for 500 followers! really means a lot to me <3)

Warnings/tags: sickness (sneezing, stuffy nose), reader has powers (sonic screams), pet names (darlin', baby, sweetheart)

A simple sneeze. That’s how it started.

You and Logan were in your shared bedroom, both at your respective desks, grading papers in silence. The quiet was only interrupted by the occasional sound of paper rustling or the scratch of a pen. It was peaceful, really. Until you sneezed into your elbow, trying not to make a big deal of it.

Logan glanced over, raising an eyebrow but not saying anything at first. You grabbed a tissue and blew your nose, tossing it into the wastebasket nearby.

"That time of year again?" Logan asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.

"Maybe," you replied, rubbing your nose. "’m fine."

He let out a low chuckle, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, ‘cause you always say you’re fine, then next thing I know you’re curled up under six blankets, complainin’ about not bein’ able to breathe.” He walked over, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I’m not always like that," you protested, looking up at him with a small smile.

"Sure, princess." Logan smirked, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “But if you’re gettin’ sick, you should rest. You work too hard.”

"I don’t have time to be sick." You glanced at the pile of essays that still needed grading. “Besides, these students aren’t going to grade themselves.”

"Bet you I could convince Chuck to get a telepath to grade these for ya," Logan teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Now, go lay down.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest at his concern. "Logan, I’m fine. It’s just a sneeze."

"Uh-huh," he grumbled. “Just a sneeze, until it ain’t.”

"I’ll be fine," you insisted. "Besides, you're not the boss of me."

Logan smirked again, his voice dropping to that low, gruff tone that always made your stomach flip. "Ain’t I though?"

You shot him a playful glare, knowing exactly where this was going. "No, you’re not."

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Alright, darlin’… but if you start feelin’ worse, you better let me take care of ya. You hear?"

You smiled, unable to help it. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, tough guy."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss before pulling back. "You better be. Ain’t in the mood to deal with a cranky version of you.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Like you’re never cranky.”

“I’m lovable,” he grunted, moving back to his desk. "You, on the other hand…”

“I’m adorable,” you finished for him, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

You turned back to your papers, feeling the slightest tickle in your nose again. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" Logan repeated, eyeing you cautiously.

And then, you sneezed again—this time louder. The vibration from your powers caused a low hum in the room, the soundwaves vibrating through the air, making the picture frames on the wall tremble slightly.

Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "That didn’t sound like just a sneeze, baby."

You winced, looking around at the small vibrations that still lingered in the room. "Oops."

He sighed, walking back over to you. "Come on, Y/N, that’s your body tellin’ you to take a break." He bent down to your level, his face now inches from yours. "Or do I need to carry ya to bed?"

You bit your lip, trying to keep the smirk from your face. "You wouldn’t."

"Wanna test me?" Logan’s voice was low, full of challenge.

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it. "Well, when you put it that way…”

Without another word, Logan scooped you up from your chair, making you let out a surprised laugh. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, carrying you toward the bed with ease. “You had your chance, sweetheart.”

You kicked your feet lightly in protest but didn’t really try to escape. Being wrapped up in his arms was hardly a punishment. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yup,” he agreed, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling the covers up over you. “Now, you’re gonna stay right here, and I’m gonna make sure you’re comfortable.”

You crossed your arms, but a smile was already spreading across your face. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” Logan raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Remember the last time you got sick? You nearly took out half the mansion with your soundwaves ‘cause you were sneezin’ so much.”

You sighed, relenting. “Okay, maybe a little rest won’t hurt.”

Logan grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Atta girl.”

You settled back into the pillows, the warmth of the blankets and Logan’s presence making you feel more relaxed. “Thanks, Logan,” you said softly.

He gave you a soft smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Anytime, darlin’. Now get some rest before you blow up the whole room.”

---

After days of trying to convince Logan, and the others, that it was just allergies, Logan had enough. He had dragged you to Jean after you finished teaching your first class of the day, and after accidentally shattering your computer screen with your sneeze.

Jean was already prepared, a bottle of cough syrup on a nearby medical table. “See? Told you it was a cold,” she said, holding up the bottle like it was proof.

You groaned, slumping in the chair next to her. “It’s just a little cold, Jean. You all act like I’m on my deathbed.”

Logan crossed his arms, standing behind you. “That little cold shattered a computer screen, Y/N. If it wasn’t for your powers, maybe we’d take your word for it, but—” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “We’ve seen what happens.”

Jean smirked at Logan’s comment but quickly turned her attention back to you. “He’s right, you know. We’ve got to be careful with your powers. Your body’s trying to rest, and that includes your control.”

You shot Logan a half-hearted glare. “You dragged me here for this?”

“Yup,” he replied, entirely unbothered. “And now that you’re here, Jean’s gonna make sure you actually take care of yourself.”

Jean held out the bottle of syrup. “Bottoms up.”

You stared at it like it was some sort of punishment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Logan let out a chuckle, moving to stand beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Come on, princess, just take the damn syrup. The faster you do, the faster we get back to our room.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you took the bottle from Jean’s hand and downed the syrup. The taste made you wince, and you immediately regretted it. “Ugh, that’s awful.”

Jean patted you on the back, her smile widening. “It’ll help, though. Now, you’ll need rest, fluids, and minimal stress. I don’t want to see you teaching for a couple of days, at least.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Logan cut you off before you could say anything. “You heard the doc, darlin’. No teaching, no grading. Just rest.”

You turned in your seat to look up at him, narrowing your eyes. “It’s just a cold. I’m not dyin’ or anything.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "Not dyin’, huh? Try tellin’ that to your computer screen."

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the chair with a groan. "That was an accident, and you know it."

"Doesn’t matter," he shot back, folding his arms across his chest. “Still proves my point.”

Jean chuckled from where she stood, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Logan’s right, Y/N. Your body’s using up energy to fight this cold, and with your powers, that means less control. It’s not just about you��it's about keeping everyone around you safe.”

You narrowed your eyes at Logan. “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?”

Logan didn’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Oh yeah. And I’ll keep doin’ it ‘til you get your stubborn ass to bed.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I hate when you’re right.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Get used to it, sweetheart. Happens more often than you’d like.”

Jean smiled warmly at the two of you, shaking her head. “Okay, lovebirds. I’ll give you some privacy while Y/N gets some rest. Logan, make sure she takes it easy.”

Logan nodded as Jean left the room, then turned back to you with a smug look. “So, no more arguments, right?”

You glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. “Fine. But just so you know, when I’m better, I’m gonna remind you of this moment. Payback’s a bitch, Logan.”

He chuckled again, unphased. “I’ll take my chances, darlin’.” Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms again.

"Logan!" You yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure you actually rest," he replied, his voice casual as if carrying you around was the most normal thing in the world. “Figured this way, there’s no chance of you sneakin’ back to your desk.”

You tried to fight back a smile, though it was nearly impossible when you were cradled against him like this. “I wasn’t gonna sneak back.”

“Sure, princess,” he said, clearly not believing you for a second. “But just in case.”

He carried you back to your shared bedroom, gently setting you down on the bed and pulling the covers over you. He gave you a stern look, but there was warmth behind his eyes. "Stay."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You act like I’m a dog.”

"Not a dog,” Logan corrected, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Just a stubborn wife who doesn’t know when to quit."

You reached up to swat at his arm playfully. “I’m not that bad.”

He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You’re worse, but I still love ya.”

Your heart swelled at the soft look in his eyes, and for a moment, you forgot all about your cold. “I love you too,” you murmured.

Logan’s expression softened even further, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Now rest, sweetheart. You need it.”

You sighed, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

Logan chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead once more. “I’ll take it.”

He stood up, moving toward the door, but you called after him. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “What, miss me already?”

You rolled your eyes, but your tone softened. “Maybe. Just a little.”

Logan’s smirk turned into a genuine smile as he made his way back to the bed. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll stay.”

He kicked off his boots and slid into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, the cold, the shattered computer, and everything else melted away. All that mattered was the warmth of his embrace.

"You’re lucky I love you," you mumbled, already feeling yourself start to drift off.

Logan chuckled softly, his hand running through your hair. “Damn right, I am."

As sleep began to claim you, Logan’s steady presence beside you was the last thing you felt, a reminder that no matter how tough things got—or how stubborn you were—he’d always be there, ready to hold you close and make sure you were safe.

[nicholasluvbot]

୨୧ SO HIGH SCHOOL !

( boynextdoor as your highschool boyfriend >_< ) includes taesan , leehan , woonhak fluff , leehan is a little cheesy , taesan one is sappy but then again thats just the way i'm with him 2120 words ( around 500 to 700 words per member )

feel like reading something for the other three members? click here !

TAESAN

"Sing for me," you said through the speaker, your voice soft and playful, and Taesan let out a low laugh.

“Nope,” he replied bluntly, but you could hear the smile in his voice, the way it danced through the phone even when you couldn’t see his face.

“Come on!” you pleaded, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. Taesan was persistent, but after a few more rounds of ‘please’s and ‘for me’s, he finally agreed.

“Fine,” he sighed, the exasperation in his voice fake. You could hear him shuffling on his bed, probably adjusting his pillow before he began singing. The first few notes of your favorite song floated through the speaker, his voice soft and unsteady at first, like he was still shy about it even though he had sung the same song for you about a hundred times. But then he found his rhythm, and his voice, warm and soothing, filled your ears.

You smiled, sinking deeper into your bed. His voice provided a kind of comfort that even the softest blankets couldn’t. It wrapped around you like a gentle hug, making you forget everything that had been bothering you all day.

Mid-song, you heard a faint creak through the phone. The door to Taesan’s room had opened, and his younger brother peeked in, eyebrows raised. Taesan faltered for just a moment before glaring at his brother, who quickly caught on to what was happening. When he realized Taesan was singing for you, a smirk spread across his face.

Taesan didn’t miss a beat. Without breaking the rhythm of his song, he grabbed a pillow and hurled it at his brother, who dodged it with a quiet laugh before slipping back out of the room, knowing he’d be relentlessly teasing Taesan about this for weeks.

Taesan rolled his eyes but kept singing, his focus shifting back to you. It didn’t matter what his brother thought. He’d keep singing as long as it made you happy.

When the song ended, you clapped through the phone, the sound of your soft applause making him laugh. His chest felt lighter, like it always did after these late-night calls. Taesan wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but moments like this, when it was just the two of you, made him feel like he could stop thinking about the world for a few hours. You never doubted his love. These calls were proof enough of that.

Once, during one of these late-night conversations, he’d sleepily confessed that he had trouble falling asleep if he didn’t hear your voice. You didn’t mind how at school you barely interacted, each of you in your own friend groups. Because at night, when the world was asleep and it was just the two of you, you felt more loved than ever.

It had started as something random one night, but now it was a habit. He couldn’t sleep without it, and neither could you.

Just as you were about to hang up, Taesan spoke again, his voice softer now. “Can you… say goodnight to me?”

You laughed, not expecting such a simple request. “What?”

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, tugging nervously at the sleeves of his sweater. “Please… it helps me sleep better,” he mumbled.

You melted at his words, the sweetness of it tugging at your heart. “Goodnight, Taesan,” you whispered, your voice gentle, and Taesan felt his heart skip a beat when you said his name like that, so softly.

Normally, he wouldn’t say anything. He’d just hang up and let the warmth of your words carry him off to sleep. But tonight, something stirred in him—a foreign feeling that had been growing for a while but was only now making itself known. He couldn’t help but wonder if this overwhelming feeling that was weighing on his heart was love.

And before he could stop himself, he said it. “I love you.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, then a soft chuckle from you. “I love you too. Sleep well.”

Taesan didn’t move for a long moment after you hung up, the butterflies in his stomach swirling wildly. He knew you felt the same way—after all, you’d told him countless times—but hearing it, feeling it, still sent a rush through him every time.

Finally, he tossed his phone to the side and grabbed a pillow, burying his face into it as a wide grin spread across his face. He wished it was you in his arms instead of the pillow, but for now, this would have to do.

As he lay there, the words still lingering in his mind, the feeling still making his heart race, he realized that he would never get tired of this feeling, not when it was coming from you.

LEEHAN

You watched as Leehan peeked into the art room and then gave you a slight nod—an indication that it was safe to go inside. He followed after you, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“Here we are,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Nobody comes around here at this time, so we can goof around undetected.”

You giggled, feeling a rush of excitement at the thrill of it all. Leehan grinned at you, his eyes sparkling, clearly enjoying how into this little adventure you were.

“That’s the spirit! I can’t believe I haven’t done this with you before. Skipping class, hanging out alone with a beautiful girl in the art room? It’s a living dream.” He wandered around the room, admiring the details he’d never really paid attention to before, flashing you a playful grin over his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up, Leehan!” you rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your voice betrayed your real feelings.

Leehan chuckled as he turned to face you, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets, his hair falling messily over his forehead. That boyish grin of his, the one that always made your heart skip, was plastered on his face. “Hey, don’t make me shut up! I’m just stating the truth. You’re beautiful, we’re alone together, and it’s exciting as hell!”

You shook your head at his cheesy comment, but a smile tugged at your lips as you took a seat on one of the desks. Leehan plopped down beside you, his knee lightly brushing against yours. You reached for a few colorful pens from a nearby cup, and when you asked him to give you his hand, he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“What are you up to?” he asked, intrigued but playful.

“Just give me your hand,” you insisted, waving the pen. Still looking unsure but trusting you completely, he placed his hand in yours.

You leaned in and started doodling on the back of his hand. Leehan couldn’t see what you were drawing, but he didn’t mind. The feeling of your hand resting against his and your hair lightly brushing his arm made his heart flutter in a way that felt so easy, so right.

Minutes passed, and you finally sat up, admiring your creation with a satisfied smile. Leehan looked down at his hand now that your head wasn’t in the way, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

Stars and hearts were scattered across his hand, but the centerpiece was a little corydora fish—his favorite.

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you asked, your eyes shining.

Leehan’s face lit up, his expression beaming. “It’s the cutest thing ever!”

Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You leaned into his chest, your head resting against his heartbeat, as the two of you admired the silly little drawings on his hand together.

“You know, I think you just gave me a new look. Maybe I should keep this permanently—kinda suits me, don’t you think?”

You smirked, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, sure. The tough guy with stars and hearts all over his hand. Totally intimidating.”

He laughed, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. “Hey, I make it work. Besides, now I’ve got a personal artist who’s also gorgeous as hell.”

“Lucky you,” you teased, still holding his hand in yours.

He looked at you for a moment, his grin softening just a bit. “But seriously… it’s always fun with you. Even when we’re just messing around like this.”

You tilted your head back slightly to meet his gaze, face only a few inches apart. You raised an eyebrow. “What, doodling on your hand is your idea of excitement?”

Leehan winked, giving you a playful grin. “When I’m with you, yeah, it is.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. He always knew how to balance teasing and sincerity in a way that made your heart flutter. 

And before you could think twice, you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. It was slow and sweet,  the kind of kiss that left butterflies in your stomach and a smile on both of your faces when you pulled away.

Leehan brushed his nose against yours, a little breathless. “I guess skipping class has its perks.”

You laughed quietly, your head resting back on his chest as you whispered, “Yeah... I guess it does.”

WOONHAK

Woonhak’s laughter echoed through the halls as he tightened his grip on your hand, your footsteps pounding in unison on the polished floor. The PE teacher’s voice could be heard in the distance, shouting your names as you narrowly escaped being caught for another one of your harmless pranks.

Woonhak glanced over his shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn’t gaining on you. The shouts were growing fainter, and you shared a mischievous look, both of you breathless from running but too exhilarated to stop.

“Woonhak, faster! He’s going to catch up!” you called between heavy breaths, barely able to contain your laughter. Woonhak grinned, tightening his grip on your hand as you ran side by side. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m trying!” he called back with a laugh. The school corridor stretched ahead, the lockers blurring as you sped past.

“This way!” Woonhak suddenly tugged you toward a small door left slightly ajar. Without a second thought, he pulled you inside and quickly shut the door, locking it behind him.

The room was tiny, with barely any space to move. You stood close to each other, Woonhak slightly crouched as his head brushed the ceiling, both of you breathing heavily, wide-eyed and grinning like two idiots in love.

Woonhak looked over at you, admiring your flushed cheeks and the soft smile lingering on your lips. There was a lightness in your eyes that made his heart skip. You were so close he could count every freckle on your face, every eyelash casting a shadow on your cheeks. Your shoulder brushed lightly against his arm, and a rush of warmth spread through him. He squeezed your hand gently, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, and he felt you do the same.

Both of you held your breath as the teacher’s footsteps grew louder, then faded away. Woonhak let out a soft exhale. “That was close.”

“I can’t believe we actually did that!” you whispered, giggling softly. Woonhak chuckled in response, though his laugh was so quiet it almost sounded nervous.

He was nervous. Standing there, hand in hand with the literal love of his life, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t passed out yet. His gaze drifted down to your still-interlaced hands, then to your lips. His knees felt weak, and for a moment, he was grateful for the small space supporting him.

“We can’t keep doing this, Woonhak. We’re going to get in serious trouble one day,” you said, but there was a softness to your words that made his chest tighten.

You peeked through the gap in the door, checking if the coast was clear so the two of you could slip out. But Woonhak didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here like this—with your hand in his, your shoulders pressed together—for a little while longer. He tugged softly at your hand, making you look at him, and his heart fluttered when your eyes met his, in that sweet, unfamiliar way that comes with first love.

“YN…” he started, but his voice caught in his throat, unsure of what he wanted to say. But as he looked into your eyes, he didn’t feel the need to say anything at all. It was like you already knew. Your gaze softened as you leaned back, silently agreeing to stay a little longer. Although your legs felt cramped, your heart felt comfortable with Woonhak. So, you were fine with staying in the tiny room, as long as he was there with you.

@onedoornet , @k-films ...

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ bf!yunho x gn!reader

synopsis ✭ just a reminder that it is in fact okay to cry

content/genre ✭ fluff

word count ✭ 500

note ✭ yet another fluff fic inspired by me being a little not ok 🫠 (also not proofread at all)

warnings ✭ none other than reader crying, but yuyu is there for comfort

Something was wrong. Yunho knew something was wrong. He could sense it in your demenor.

When you walked into the kitchen from a long day at work, he was sitting at the counter playing on his phone. He greeted you like he normally did, “Hi love. How was your day?”

You met his eyes for a second as you set your purse down on the counter, “It was alright.” A small smile formed on your lips. But he didn’t fall for it. Especially not when you were clearly distressed this morning before he left (though you didn’t think he noticed). 

“Just alright?” You hated when when people asked that question, and Yunho knew that. But he was just trying to get something out of you without prodding too much. 

He slipped of his stool and made his way to you, grabbing your phone out of your hands and placing it on the counter. He grasped your hands in his own and tried to look you in the eyes, but you kept avoiding his gaze. 

“Yunho, I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“Ok,” he said simply, “Can you at least look me in the eyes, though?” He was keeping his voice calm and level. Just treating this as a simple conversation.

You took a short breath before looking hesitantly into his eyes. Yunho couldn’t help the sympathetic look in his eyes, though. And you hated it, “Yunho, please. I’m seriously fine.”

And you were about to pull away so you could retreat to your room and avoid him for the rest of the night. Give yourself a moment to…you know…hide. But he pulled you into a hug before you could even try.

He wrapped one arm around your middle back and the other was by your head so he could run a hand through your hair. His embrace was so warm and comforting. It really brought out the vulnerable side in you. And you hated it. 

But you couldn’t find the energy in you to push him away. “Baby,” he kissed your hair, “You know it’s okay to cry, right?” You felt the light rumble of his chest as he spoke.

And you couldn’t explain it, but those words brought out every feeling and emotion you’d been feeling for days. He held you close as you sobbed into his chest. Softly rocking you side to side and caressing your head and shoulders. 

“I love you so much, my love,” he whispered over your light sobs, “You never have to feel like a burden, okay? I want to hold you while you cry.” You sniffled into his shirt, “I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re doing this alone.”

You only cry harder at his words, but your arms around him tighten. And he feels you grip at his shirt. 

“My pretty baby,” he pulls back so he can cup your cheek with his hand, “It’s always ok to cry.”

[queenshelby]

Babysitter

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Virgin Reader

Summary: You are the babysitter. You get a call but no one other but Cillian is home. He makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Note: This was a request.

"Where is everyone?" you asked, seeing that only Cillian was there when you arrived at the house after school.

The air felt different, heavy and charged, now that it was just you and Cillian in the Murphys' residence. He invited you to have a seat at the kitchen island before offering you a glass of water.

Cillian seemed nervous, fiddling with his glass, ice cubes clinking with every shift. He studied you, eyes trailing the curve of your cheek, tracing your jaw, and lingering over your lips.

The intensity of his gaze was felt like a physical touch, making you swallow hard as your cheeks warmed beneath his attention. Gathering his thoughts, he leaned in towards you, speaking in a deliberate tone.

"I am sorry for inviting you here on false pretenses, but I do have a proposal for you," he said while hesitatingly pulling out an envelope, containing five 100-dollar bills.

"What kind of proposal?" you asked hesitantly, eyeing the envelope in his hands. This was a lot of money and you were unsure what he was after other than babysitting his children. 

The curious look on your face spurred Cillian to continue, albeit with a hint of awkwardness punctuating his words.

"Well,  I'd like to pay you $500 to, umm, help me out with something," Cillian replied, softly sliding the envelope across the table towards your direction.

"What do you mean? Help you out with what?" you inquired, now thoroughly puzzled and increasingly uneasy.

Cillian took another deep breath before laying his proposition out on the table.

"I want to have sex with you, Y/N," he uttered almost inaudibly.

Shock and disbelief washed over you as your gaze flicked from the envelope to Cillian, paralyzing you for a moment.

"That's preposterous!" you stammered, clutching at your glass, the cool liquid inside sloshing about in disarray. He was so much older than you and he was a married man. You were taken aback by his forwardness, but in the quietness of that opulent kitchen, you couldn't hide your confusion.

Understanding your discomfort, Cillian chose his words carefully,

"I know you have a boyfriend and all, but I also know that you need the money for your college funds, and I can help you with that," he said, trying to appeal to your reason and financial needs.

"By having sex with me? You want to buy me?" you exclaimed, the words tasting bitter and harsh leaving your lips.

"I know it's not the most common request, and I understand how shocking it may sound to you, but yes, I want to pay you for letting me have sex with you. $500 for the first time and $100 for every other time thereafter. I promise you that this will be just between us, and no one will ever know about this arrangement."

He articulated the words with a calculated ease, his eyes unblinking. 

Now, time morphed, seconds stretched into minutes, as you both locked stares, occupied in your own thoughts, the tension between you palpable.

Finally, your lips parted, your voice tremorous as you relinquished your words to the air.

"Will you be gentle and wear a condom?" you asked, struggling with a trembling voice.

This question lingered between you, a necessary request during a moment that wavered between madness and desire.

"I will be gentle but I would prefer to do it bare," he replied, his voice deep and almost soothing.

"Bare?" you echoed, debating Cillian's words for a moment.

"Yes," he murmured, leaning towards you. "I want to cum inside you and feel you wrapped around me, skin-to-skin," he insisted, articulating every word with an unsettling clarity.

You nodded nervously, consenting to this unspeakable pact, even though the implications gnawed at your conscience.

"Okay. I mean, I am on the pill, so I suppose that will be fine," you whispered, averting your gaze.

The envelope beckoned you, almost as if enticing its contents into your possession. You extracted the crisp bills from within, sliding them into the side pocket of your backpack.

Cillian sensed your anxiety and unease, which he met with a gentle grip of your hand.

"Everything will be just fine, Y/N," he assured you with an attempt to allay your fears. "Now should we go upstairs?" Cillian asked, breaking the silence that hung in the air.

It was as if a switch had been flipped - the room suddenly felt too small, as if the walls were closing in around you.

You nodded, your decision now made, the remaining apprehension dissipated into thin air.

"Okay," you repeated softly, before standing up, unsteady on your feet, and following Cillian upstairs towards the master bedroom.

"Just please, never tell my boyfriend about this," you requested, a sense of shame and embarrassment gnawing at the edges of your voice.

Cillian glanced back at you, his face betraying a glimmer of understanding,

"Of course not," Cillian said before pushing the master bedroom door open. "Now, why don't you undress and lie down for me," Cillian requested, his tone deliberate.

Tentatively, you began to undress, ridding yourself of the layers of fabric that suddenly felt like a barrier between your past and unfortunate future. The eyes of a taken woman were staring back at you from the dresser mirror, and with every piece of fabric shed, you receded further - sliding deeper into the shadows of the room.

The breeze sighed its way through the half-opened window, gently grazing your bare skin, a whisper of cold against the fiery sensation that filled the room.

"So beautiful," Cillian murmured, his gaze caressing your figure as you finally, timidly, lay back on the lavish king-size bed.

There was a warped sense of liberation knowing that today marked the end of your inexperience, a welcoming into the territory of adulthood and womanhood.

Cillian then too undressed, removing his t-shirt and jeans, forming a trail of clothing between you both as he approached the bed.

Discomfort and curiosity mingled together, battling for dominance in your mind as Cillian lay down beside you, cupping your cheek with the same gentleness of a lover.

He moved in to kiss you tentatively, parted lips seeking connection.

The sensation was novel, yet laced with a trace of guilt as your lips met in a timid exchange. His breath was warm and familiar, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was the taste of morality slipping away between your intertwined bodies.

"Look how hard you make me," he murmured in approval, gently guiding your hand to feel his growing arousal, his erection straining against the fabric of his briefs.

Anxiously, you gasped as he guided your hand under the waistband, your palm meeting the length of his shaft. The head of his cock was already slick with pre-cum, leaving a telltale mark on your skin.

"Take it in your hand and stroke me," Cillian commanded, his voice rendered a deep tone by the growing desire as, finally, he slid down his briefs and let your hand start wandering freely at the touch of his steely desire.

Slowly, you began exploring his cock in its entirety, uncertain but curious about the feeling of his shaft in your hand, its firmness, strength. Your fingers played with its full length, gently, not knowing how much pressure was enough or too much. It was so diverse from the fair amount of information you had gathered so far in your young life on the subject of a man's most intimate member.

"Good girl," Cillian murmured, stifling a soft groan as your innocent fumbling spurred sensations that ran down the length of his erection.

The flesh pulsed within your hands - alive, heat emanating from the veins tracing their way along the rigid, lustful organ. With every gentle stroke, you felt the delicate balance of power shifting, the weight shifting in favor of strength and surrender.

A sudden churning filled your stomach, an odd sense of revelation that stoked heat in your dampening loins locked within the paradox of curiosity and guilt.

With a shudder, you released your death-grip on the still-erect cock and allowed the slick, wet residue to smear between your palm and his shaft.

Cillian swallowed hard. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" he asked, gazing into your eyes, searching for any indication of uncertainty.

You candidly shook my head. "No, I don't," you admitted and, much to your surprise, this seemed to be an even bigger turn on for him.

"That's good," Cillian murmured, his thumb grazing your cheek. "That's very good."

He kissed you again, more deeply this time, his tongue seeking entrance and demanding your response.

The kiss tasted of a mixture of power and desire, but there was also an undercurrent of fear that accompanied it, fear of what you would become, offering yourself to a man for money. 

As his hand disappeared under the blanket, you could feel yourself tensing up, anticipating his actions.

He gently nudged your legs apart and began to trace his fingers along the thin cloth of your underwear. Every part of you wanted to resist his lecherous gestures, but there was this weird hunger of novelty creeping inside your core, provoking indescensible sensations coursing through your innocent veins.

Cillian then kicked the blanket aside. "I want to see you, Y/N."

His hands expertly slid your underwear down your hips, and there's a detachment you felt in this act, a shedding of layers that felt oddly freeing and frightening.

The brush of his fingers on your bare skin was foreign and bizarre and what he wanted to do next suprised you.

"Beautiful," he said, tracing the length of your slit to feel the wetness clinging to your pussy.

"Do you mind if I taste you?" Cillian asked, a hint of desire daring to taint his tone.

It took you a fleet moment to truly understand his proposition, the intensity of his gaze leaving no room for dispute. The reality of his imminent act set in, making you tremble beneath his touch.

"I-if that's what you want," you barely managed to murmur, your breath hitching as he spread your wetness with his fingers.

"I do," Cillian replied hungrily, carefully lowering his head between your legs.

He teased your lips apart with his fingers before his warm, wet tongue gently traced the outline of your core. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, making you sigh and close your eyes.

"God, you taste good," he groaned as he was savoring your taste, sending shivers coursing up your spine. His movements were calculated, his familiarity with this act unquestionably clear as you surrendered yourself to him.

Your breath began to come in ragged pants, each deliberate flick of his tongue making you whimper involuntarily. The sensations seemed so wrong, so illicit, yet the pleasure outweighed the sting of shame.

Cillian's fingers slipped inside you then. It barely fit; the feeling was so tight and foreign that you couldn't help but gasp at the unexpected intrusion. You could feel your body desperately trying to adjust to the new presence, but it was a struggle you'd never before experienced.

"You're so tight," he whispered soothingly, his voice full of hungry desire as his tongue darted into your opening. It was frustrating to realize that he was enjoying this while your mind was fighting a relentless battle against betrayal and shame.

A single tear ran down your check. His tongue curled inside the folds of your womanhood, lapping at your lust unabashedly, evoking gasps and whimpers from your trembling lips.

"It feels weird," you said in a tearful whisper.

You were utterly unprepared for his ministrations, the invasive way your senses were awakened from deep slumber. You could hardly fathom how the forbidden pleasure could be so exhilarating.

"I know it's new, but just relax and let it happen," Cillian coaxed, his hot breath tickling the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

In an effort to comply, you took deep, steadying breaths, attempting to smooth the rigid line of your brow.

You cast your gaze over Cillian's sumptuous bedroom, trying to distract yourself from the growing sensation of embarrassment as he continued to lick you, but the distractions barely helped.

The strange feeling intensified when his thumb began to gently circle your clitoris while he continued to probe your tight opening.

It was too much, all too overwhelming.

"Oh my god, I can't do this," you cried out, feeling the shame rise within you.

The manipulations he was doing down there, owning and enjoying your body without the slightest hint of guilt on his part, felt like a bitter pill to swallow.

"Ssh, just let go for me," he pleaded, somehow knowing how close you were to spilling over.

"Ah, fuck," the words slipped out before you knew what was happening.

It sounded like a pained cry as Cillian continued to lazily flick at the extra-sensitive nub buried within soft, pink flesh and you thought that you might wet yourself by this point. 

"Oh god, please stop!" you begged, not knowing how to articulate the sensations rioting in your loins.

Despite your desperate pleas, Cillian continued his self-assigned, perfunctory torture with fervor, his tongue now demanding your surrender to this uncharted landscape.

"Fuck," you cried out, your inner thighs slick with perspiration, the back of your head soaked with a mixture of pleasure and angst as you grappled with this twisted game of forbidden desire.

"Oh my fucking god! Oh god!" escaped from you in a ragged gasp as the first wave of release tore through your body, your world exploding into a brilliant display of colors. It was an earth-shattering, mind-altering experience with a man who, by age alone, could be your father.

And yet, as the stars started to fade and you came back to reality, Cillian was still there, tasting you, his tongue brushing against your trembling thighs.

"Oh, you tasted so good," Cillian repeated, a satisfied expression on his face.

He rose, wiping his mouth, and placed a single, tender kiss on your trembling lips.

"But now, I want it all," he said, and the look in his eyes told you that nothing loudly whispered into your ear could change the finality in his voice. 

"Is it going to hurt?" you asked, your body growing rigid as you contemplated what was to come. How could such a moment play out when you were so inexperienced, when everything about this situation was a deviation from the norm?

Yet, doubts continued to assault you like waves on a stormy coast, threatening to break your resolve.

"It will hurt a little, but I promise to be gentle," Cillian reassured you, sensing the apprehension spiraling through your body. He traced the curve of your cheek with the back of his fingers, a futile attempt to soothe your worries.

A million thoughts raced through your mind like a tempest in your consciousness. Cillian, a married man in his forties who paid you for this. 

"Now lie back for me and spread your legs," he instructed you gently.

You hesitated, but your overwhelming need to secure the payment for your college funds left you no choice but to abandon every ounce of dignity you had left.

Slowly, you shifted positions, pulling your knees back towards your chest. Cillian knelt between your open legs, guiding his rigid penis toward your slick entrance.

The tip of his cock dented your soft outer lips as your heartbeat rang through your eardrums, its frantic rhythm leaving you momentarily breathless.

Pre-cum mixed with your wetness, creating a warm film over your entrance, allowing Cillian to smoothly press forward.

Trepidation built within you like a crescendo, even as your body welcomed his gentle probing.

A faint sheen of fearful sweat formed between your breasts, and your fingernails clawed into the plush bedspread beneath you.

"It's going to be alright, Y/N," Cillian whispered into your ear, his voice coated with affection. His reassurance was soothing yet entirely inappropriate considering the circumstances. "It's just going to be a little sting now," Cillian muttered, and gently applied pressure, allowing the head of his arousal to breach your untouched barrier.

Searing pain spread through your lower body, and the knives stabbing at your innocence stole your breath away. A ragged yelp escaped your lips as your nails gouged deeper into the bedspread, desperately seeking something to anchor your grip around reality.

"There you go," Cillian groaned in a low voice, his brow damp with sweat, as the first tears welled up in the corners of your eyes and began to trickle down the sides of your face.

"You feel so fucking good, Y/N," he murmured, his hands stroking your thighs with a tenderness that couldn't have seemed more out of place in that moment of searing pain.

Your hands reached out for him, grasping feeble handfuls of the bedspread in an instinctive attempt to regain control of your whirling thoughts.

Cillian paused, allowing you time to adjust to his presence.

You felt the unexpected fullness that remained when the pain ebbed, leaving only the spreading discomfort.

"You are incredibly tight," Cillian uttered while subtly shifting his hips forward, guided by a hunger desperate to obtain more.

As he cautiously filled you, you struggled to comprehend the surreal scene playing out before you.

"Raise your knees up towards your chest," Cillian instructed softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Initially, you hesitated, unsure of your next move. It felt like an eternity of eternities before you mustered the courage to reveal your vulnerability, following his directions as he eased in deeper, inch by inch.

"You are taking my cock so well, Y/N," Cillian whispered, admiration evident in his voice as, finally, he began moving back and forth at an unhurried pace.

A prickling sensation started to emit from where you were connected, slowly morphing itself into an unexplainable discomfort.

The initial intensity of the pain diluted as he continued to soothe you - both physically and verbally - which somehow felt paradoxically disconcerting.

"That's it, darling everyone finds it daunting at first," he comforted you as a fleeting moment of shame overwhelmed the initial shock. "But you have been such a good girl, letting me do this to you."

Cillian's tone transformed into a gratified whisper to his 18-year-old accomplice.

With time, your body slowly started to comply unwillingly, the tightness loosening to allow his slow rhythm to continue. 

"You are so much tighter than my wife," Cillian groaned, as his head lolled back.

His words stung, but the sweat dripping from his brow and the pleasure that silently escaped him were irrefutable.

"I want you to hold yourself open for me. Let yourself feel as much of me as possible." His voice was almost a whisper, betraying both his indulgence and the increasing hunger that he could no longer contain.

Your body responded involuntarily, shame flooding your veins as you dared to adjust your position to match his request. Your fingers brushed against the spot where his manhood dominated your innocence, causing a shuddering wave of pleasure-pain to ripple through your young frame.

"God that looks good," Cillian grunted, his gaze locked onto the place where he entered you, streaks of blood coating his manhood. 

It felt unreal, convoluted, as a surge of indescribable sensations coursed through your slender form.

The burning, stinging sensations eased, giving way to a rather odd feeling of fullness and a strange pleasure that seemed nearly blasphemous to embrace.

You moaned involuntarily - a helpless, almost guttural sound - as Cillian thrust deeper and deeper, your body becoming more accustomed to his presence as each expert stroke filled you whole.

"Ohhhh, god!" you cried out helplessly.

The pain was still there, but now muted, surrendering to this strange satisfaction that was slowly tightening its grip around your thoughts, and quietly luring you into the storm of forbidden ecstasy.

"Good girl. I want you to cum all over my cock, can you do that for me?" Cillian demanded, his voice low and rough, a clear streak of perspiration glistening across his brow as he plunged himself deeper within the tight sheath of your virginal core.

"Yes, I think so," you hesitated, your breath catching as a thousand fragments of pleasure and pain clashed within the confines of your budding climax.

"Good girl, I will go harder now," Cillian warned, withdrawing himself from the depths of your grasp, only to sink back inside with a force that stole your breath once more.

Ecstasy ignited in the pit of your stomach, spreading like liquid fire fueling your surrender. The room seemed to sway around you, a dizzying pleasure that threatened to pull you under, but you fought for control. Each thrust sent sparks of jolting pleasure cascading through your veins, like the harsh meeting of opposing forces converging in an intoxicating dance for dominance.

"I want you to focus on that tight little pussy of yours," Cillian demanded, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. "Keep clenching it around my cock," he demanded and the sound of Cillian's urgent moans mingled with the wet friction of your bodies, a sinful symphony of indulgence and a haunting reminder of the boundaries you crossed today.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting each of his powerful thrusts, as the exquisite pleasure amplified and your impending climax wavered tantalizingly at the edge of your perception - ajar but agonizingly out of reach.

Cillian leaned down, placing greedy kisses along your neck with each feverish plunge deep within. He bit and nipped at the sensitive flesh, a myriad of light pain-pleasure sensations that coaxed and excited you further.

Your hands reached up, tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as the energy built in electric sparks in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck I am feeling so funny again," you cried, your body a quivering, whimpering mess under the mercy of this intellectual, ruggedly handsome man who had paid to relieve his frustrations with your innocent, young body.

Again, it felt like you were wetting yourself but this time you knew why. It was all so dirty, so wrong, yet the thought made something dark within you blossom, sparking your unwilling curiosity towards this new, twisted sensation.

A twisted smile pulled at the corner of Cillian's lips. He was so lost in the pleasure that he had taken, reveling in the strangeness of a situation where the girl beneath him was conquered with a newfound desire to please him.

He grabbed your hips, slamming them against his body with every few powerful thrusts.

"I am going to fill that young pussy of yours with my seed now," He growled with sheer dominance in his tone, his eyes as dark as an abyss - crazed with lust and an intoxicating hunger.

"Fuck Y/N, you are going to make my cum so hard," Cillian said as a shudder raced down his spine, his body tightening as he prepared to release the pent-up desire that had been plaguing him for weeks now.

His grip grew tighter on your hips, as though he would physically command your compliance. He drew his body back, until just the head of his cock was lodged inside you. Then, with a growl, he rammed back into your tight, aching depths.

You screamed in shock as he filled you so suddenly, until you felt him butt up against your cervix.

He roared loudly as he erupted inside you, the heat of his release spurring a strange sense of fullness that pervaded your very being.

You felt shame as his hot seed poured into you seeing that you had succumbed to a married man's desires, but there was also a peculiar euphoria that mingled with the sting of the loss of your innocence.

Beneath Cillian's weight, your body trembled as your heartbeat echoed in your eardrums, a maelstrom of emotions coursing through you.

"Thank you, Y/N," Cillian said, breathing deeply as he carefully slipped out of you, leaving behind a sticky residue. Your virginity was officially a thing of the past - sold for an ungodly sum of $500 and an uncertain fate. You knew that you would do this again, and not just because you needed the money, but also because the freedom of being wanted, the release of pent-up desire you never knew you had, the transformation into someone you did not recognize was far too exhilarating to ignore.

To be continued...

Tags:

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[koqabear]

Happy 2k!! I have ot5 request for the mic is yours!

Ot5 reactions to you teasing them the entire day with them getting hard and then you straying away to make em mad? <3

join the 2k event and request something!

ot5 x fem! reader // wc: 3.1K(...) ; around 500 per member // smut, established relationship, MDNI.

warnings: yj; dry humping, masturbating // sb; dry humping, slightly subby binnie // bg; mean dom! gyu, degrading, unprotected sex, manhandling// th; bratty mc, slight switch tyun // hk; kinda perv!huening, grinding, a bit of subby!hyuka //

notes: ignore the fact that this is well over 2k. my stupid ass doesn’t know how to keep things brief. (i'll try to not let it happen again so don't expect this for every request aldkjh)

[Yeonjun]

Is a bit oblivious at first, but when he finds out, he’s pissed off. Poor boy was trying to remain innocent and oblivious the whole day, pretending as though the way you sat in his lap and kept getting all touchy wasn’t affecting him. His last straw was feeling the way you kept shifting on top of him, whining innocently that you couldn’t get comfortable while you both pretended that he wasn’t unbelievably hard right now and that you definitely weren’t grinding on him— cute little pussy already soaking wet as you pretend that you aren’t getting needy yourself, huffing petulantly as he tries to ignore the way his cock is slotted perfectly along your entrance. 

“Baby…” he would mutter, more of a warning than you realized as you simply hummed in response, head emerging from where it was tucked in his neck to look at him; you’re trying to hold back a smile at the way he seems tense and flushed, continuing your act as you shift once more— his hands move to grab onto your waist, eager to set a proper pace that he can fuck up into you with, but you’re getting off his lap before he can even process anything, and you’re sending him a pout as you tell him that you think you’ll just go to bed instead. 

He’s stunned for a moment… but then, he just decides to let you go; don’t think it won’t come with repercussions though, because now that he’s seen how far you decided to take this little stunt of yours, he’ll take it even further. Following you into the bedroom after a moment, taking in the way you’re simply laying on the bed and scrolling on your phone casually, glancing at him and making a show of ignoring the very blatant bulge in his sweats.

“Don’t wanna finish what you started?” he would ask, sitting at the edge of the bed and watching the way you continue to ignore him, “Okay then, that’s fine.” 

You don’t really know what he means by that, but his words are a bit ominous as you simply turn your back to him, trying to not give in as you continue to ignore him— after a while, you hear it… it’s subtle at first, the strange yet familiar sounds that have you squeezing your thighs and your body heating up— then, it’s more than obvious, the wet sounds of Yeonjun’s hand going up and down his cock and his exaggerated moans making you bury your face in your pillow, flustered and needy as you realize that he’s teasing you now; moaning your name loudly, his pace quick and cruel as he simply talks to himself— at least that’s what it seems like, but you know damn well he’s just trying to get you to look at him.

“Fuck…” he would coo your name, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ready to reach out to you any second now— but no, one glance over your shoulder and your eyes are meeting his, left frozen as he simply keeps eye contact with you, his pace quickening and his brows furrowing slightly as he simply nears his orgasm, his sounds dramatic and his abs clenching as he tenses. And like the fool you are, you try to reach out to him, more than willing to help out before he grabs your wrist to stop you, eyes narrowed angrily as he finally cums; you can only whimper quietly as you watch, eyes glossy as you hold back the urge to beg him to touch you— instead, he simply takes a moment to catch his breath, huffing quietly before he tucks himself in; then, he’s leaning over you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before he’s getting off the bed. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he says, not bothering to look back as he exits the room, “I’ll be in the living room, I have some work I need to do.”

And if you think this is the end of it, you’re definitely wrong; you can apologize and cry and beg as much as you want, but Yeonjun won’t be touching you for the rest of the night— if he’s feeling really petty, he’ll let it go on for a few days. Anything to make sure you learned your lesson.

[Soobin]

You know how weak he gets when he sees you in his clothes. At least, that must be the case, finding you in the kitchen and making dinner while you’re decked in a thin pair of shorts and his oversized hoodie, the sight making his stomach flip. There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing, acting all affectionate and excited as you run to him, squeezing him in a tight hug as he realizes with wide eyes that you’re not wearing a bra. Gulping slightly at the way you pepper him with kisses, cutely whining that you missed him while you continue to cling to him. 

He tries so hard to keep his composure— really, he does— because the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s nothing more than a pervert, always thinking with his dick when he’s around you. But oh, are you always this touchy with him…? Keeping him close to your side, asking him to taste test stuff for you as you smile at him widely— washing your hands before you go to try the filling you’ve just made for a desert, humming excitedly at how good it tastes— and before Soobin knows it, you’re offering him a taste too, your finger swiping the inside of the bowl before you’re bringing it up to his mouth; doe eyes urging him quietly to taste, pouty lips parting to say “ahh���, as though asking him to do the same. 

He really hopes you don’t take notice of how hard he is right now. Because as his tongue swirls around your finger carefully, watching the way your eyes glaze and your mouth parts slightly, he’s unable to stop his wandering thoughts that ask him if you’re as sweet as the dessert you’re making. But before he can test out his theory, you’re pulling away, mumbling to yourself that your food will burn if you don’t attend to it soon. 

This goes on for longer than Soobin would like; he’s forced to watch as you refuse to address the strong tension in the room, still playful and teasing as you eventually corner him against the cabinets, giving him an excuse that you need to get something behind him as you press against him— his cock is firm against your body, and he fails to suppress the way his breath hitches at the feeling. 

Fuck this. It’s the only thought coursing through Soobin’s mind as he comes up behind you, arms circling your waist and pulling you back into him as he begins grinding into you; poor baby is just so needy, apologizing and whining that he just couldn’t help himself as he ruts his cock against your ass, telling you to keep cooking and just ignore him— like you’ve already been doing. But his breath is hot against your neck and his voice is so whiny as he humps against you, whining filth into your ear until eventually, you’re the one giving in; you’ve never turned the stove and oven off so fast as you practically pounce on Soobin, your plan gone wrong by how needy he is, his hands and lips all over you as he practically overpowers you with his sheer need to fuck you.

Well, looks like dinner will be done a lot later than you expected.

[Beomgyu]

Your first mistake was messing with Beomgyu; your second mistake was thinking you’d actually get away with it. If there’s one thing this man loves more than anything, it’s making sure to put you in your place when you try to act out— so, when you decide to get a little bold today and tease him in public… his mind is already racing with possibilities on how to make you regret it. 

At first, it’s all just mild things; nothing too out of the ordinary, pretending to be oblivious to the lingering touches you’ve left on him as you go shopping, the way you’ve let your kisses go on longer than they should when you’re hidden in between the aisles, tempting him to venture further with the way your fingers tangle themselves in his hair and your body presses against him.

You’re never this bold; which is exactly why he can’t help but be a little surprised when you let it continue the whole day, going through with your teasing even as you sit at a restaurant with Beomgyu’s friends, laughing and talking casually as though you weren’t wearing that one dress that always made Beomgyu unnecessarily horny, and as though you hadn’t showcased the lingerie set you were wearing under to him proudly as you were getting ready, lacy and intricate and beautiful as it stuck to your skin, smiling at him cutely as you asked him if you looked good.

He finds your teasing amusing— even more so when you look at him with innocent eyes and a bright smile, laughing along with whatever his friends were saying as you listened intently to their conversation— but it’s all fun and games until you’ve had a few glasses of wine, tipsy and bold as you begin to get touchy once more, continuing to talk casually as though you aren’t aware of the way your hand is on his inner thigh, his most sensitive area as you massage it gently; thumb caressing the fabric of his pants gently, fingers squeezing him as he jumps so hard his knees knock against the table— and while his friends tease him and the glasses rattle from the impact, Beomgyu sends you a glare so harsh you can’t help but shrink back immediately. 

Poor thing, you don’t even make it out of the car. Beomgyu is fucking you in the backseat of the car parked in the driveway, angry and rough as he scolds you for trying to act out— your dress is tossed over the console and your lingerie is ripped and stained with his cum, going round after round, feeling the way your body becomes sore and weak as he puts you into any position he wants, fucking you with abandon as he degrades you for trying to get bold in front of his friends— he fucks you until you’re a crying, overstimulated and apologetic mess, babbling that you’ll never do it again as he merely laughs at you at curses to shut up and take it; “after all, this is what you wanted, right? To get put in your place?”

And even if you try to deny it and play innocent, you both know the truth— that it’s exactly what you wanted, and that you’ll definitely try it again. 

[Taehyun]

Ooh. If there’s one thing about this man, it’s that he will hold a grudge. Picks up on what you’re doing immediately— and wills himself to not fall for your tricks. Teasing him in public? He brushes you off like it’s nothing. Getting clingy and touchy with him out of nowhere? Okay, he’ll do the same. Trying to tempt him by wearing close to nothing, or continuing to sport your cute sets of lingerie in front of him? Well, then you don’t mind him walking around shirtless or working out in front of you, right? In the end, you’re scurrying away from him in order to not give in first— because without realizing it, this man turned all this teasing into a fucking competition— and now he’s trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, waiting for you to cave and admit what you’ve been trying (and failing) to do. 

It’s so ridiculous, he makes it go on long after you’ve finally given up; now you’re simply being clingy because you’re needy, all over him to give him a subtle hint that you want nothing more for him to fuck you stupid— but no, Taehyun has yet to hear an apology from you; he refuses to let your teasing slide, refuses to go along with the way you kiss him slowly, attempting to deepen it and let your hands wander under the band of his sweatpants; he’s stopped you every time, giving you an amused look and raising a brow as he simply slips from your grip, giving you a half-hearted excuse that he should get started on dinner, or that he feels tired, or worse, that he told Beomgyu he’d get on a game with him around this time. 

The worst part? You’re just as stubborn as him. You refuse to give him exactly what he wants, which is to bring you to your knees and beg him to stop being a jerk and fuck you already; your stubborn attitudes only leave you pent up and irritated with each other, unable to give up on this silent competition as this tension only grows, worsening until there's no other choice but to let it all… explode.

“What are you doing now,” he would ask you, not bothering to pretend as though he’s been oblivious to your previous attempts to tease as you pull on his chair, rolling him away from his desk and spinning him around— he’s barely given any time to react before you’re kissing him desperately, tugging your shorts off and climbing on his lap as he quickly reciprocates; he’s never felt you get this rough with him before, tugging up his shirt and slipping a hand down the band of his sweats to cup his already hardening cock, the kiss messy and harsh as you bite down on the supple flesh of his lips; your hand goes up to tug off his headset, throwing it back on his desk and pulling him even closer— his game is quickly forgotten as he allows you to take over, already feeling the way your pussy soaks through his sweats as you begin to grind against him. 

And for once, you let yourself scold Taehyun as you ride him, hands tangled in his hair as you take in his eyes gloss and watch you in awe, irritated with the stupid coy smile he sports as he simply keeps his hands on your hips, helping your pace as he bucks up into you ever so often— stupid jerk, you would groan, milking him endlessly as you ignore the way your legs ache after who-knows-how-many rounds, still going as you take out your frustrations on him, you always have to get the upper hand, hmm? Just looove to get competitive?

He lets you get it out of your system quietly— but once you find yourself too tired to continue, he’ll give you a nice reminder on why it’s not a good idea to try to tease him.

[Hueningkai]

This poor boy… will genuinely just not do anything about it. He’s too meek and a severe overthinker, will just believe that you’re not doing any of this on purpose and that he really shouldn’t be looking too much into any of it. Your touchiness, the way you cling to him in public, your hand that somehow continuously finds itself on his thighs, massaging the sore muscles with deft hands as you simply smile at him cutely, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly at the feeling— no, you must not know how weak he gets from your touch, sporting tense smiles and forcing himself to not look at you for too long, because he thinks his thoughts might just stray if he has to take note of your low cut top any longer, or the skirt that is a bit too short as he always finds himself getting a little nervous every time he’s trailing behind you, mentally scolding himself to look at anything but the sway of your hips as you walk.

You must really underestimate the effect you have on him; at least, that’s what he believes, feeling his stomach twist with slight guilt as he has to take a moment to focus on not hardening pathetically at your every action— believing he’s being such a pervert for getting flustered at the way you continue to make eye contact as you lean on the kitchen counter, pretty lips parted and your tongue swirling around the popsicle you were just conveniently craving; feeling his face heat up at the way your tongue runs along it, eager to not let a single drop spill as you let our exaggerated groans of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, you’re simply trying your hardest not to laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend so tense before, his cheeks flushed and his lower half glued to the counter, away from your curious eyes that give him a curious look, asking him if he’s alright.

“Yeah,” he would reply, much too quick for it to seem natural, his smile tense as you raise a brow at the sight, “just… a little tired.”

Those words are enough to dig his grave; he’s found himself tangled up in your bed, halfway through a movie he can’t remember the name of as he simply wills himself to calm down— to ignore the way you nuzzle against him, straddling him and whispering softly that you think you’ll just take a nap— and he simply mutters out a soft okay, afraid out of his mind that you’ll feel the way he’s getting hard, (again, it’s been happening all day) tense as always as he simply gulps nervously. 

You’ve done everything to push his limits— so why hasn’t he said anything? The thought is enough to make you laugh, the feeling of your breath on Huening’s neck enough to make him shiver with sensitivity, and he’s unable to realize the way his arms have tightened around you, pulling you flush against his body as his cock begins to rut against your stomach, painfully hard as he tries to search for some relief.

“Huening, y’okay?” the moment you ask him that is the moment he’s falling apart, whining quietly into your skin and apologizing that he’s really not like this— that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, completely unaware that you’ve brought him to this point purposefully; poor baby is practically crying the moment you ask quietly if he wants you to take care of him, eyes glossing over the moment you begin to grind slowly against him.  Little did you know that all of that teasing would come with repercussions— because now, Huening is all pent up and needy, and you won’t be leaving the bed until it’s all out of his system; you’ll take it all though, won’t you? Be a good girl for him, okay?

[sanjisprincesswifey]

helloo~ first of all congratulations on your milestones! your fics are amazing and you deserve all the love on your works🥺 as for the event, may i request for song 1 with eustass kid with an afab reader? nsfw or sfw are both fine with me! tysm in advance 💖💕

pretty in pleasure (or realizing you're falling in love ft. eustass kid)

notes: kid is bad with emotions but oh so good in bed. nsfw!!! mdni!!! p in v sex & riding with an afab!reader! around 500+ words i think ?? thank u sm for participating, ily 4 requesting eustass i luuuuuv him

despite being such a large, strong man, it felt as if kid has always been so gentle with you.

his thick, calloused fingers grip around your hip, your skin bending into his touch. a mewl falls from your lips as he guides you up and down as you bounce around his cock.

a string of curses leaves his own, but he can only focus on how fucked out you look instead of watching himself disappear inside of you as he typically did.

as a dragged-out groan escapes him, he’s not watching your tits bounce with the movement of your body, but how your face contorts with a pleased expression. or how your beautiful, lust-filled eyes stare down at him, which he would never verbally admit that it only drives him further to his release at an exponentially high rate.

a light yelp leaves you as kid effortlessly lifts you off of him in a swift motion, his dick curving as his cum spills onto his own abdomen.

a strangled gasp leaves you once more before you stand up and grab him a towel, giggling as you clean up his mess.

“did you finish?” his nonchalant tone protects the sheepishness he feels he needs to mask.

ensuring your satisfaction guaranteed him more nights with you, so he was eager to know the answer.

you nod with a cheeky smile, “yeah, like three times. was just waiting on you.” you reach for his goggles, pulling them off his head as you ruffle through his hair and wipe the sweat from his forehead.

your gentle touch was so unfamiliar to him that he rejected it at the beginning of your late-night visits, muttering for you to get out and get some sleep instead. but as the days turned into weeks, kid had succumbed to your soft touch, and grown accustomed to you occupying not just his bed, but his thoughts too.

all of which he could never admit to you, deeming himself far too coarse and animalistic for such vulnerable emotions.

somehow though, he had granted himself to reward of imagining you sticking to his side not just in the dead of night when his fist was not enough to get him off, but in his day-to-day activities.

“here,” he murmurs, opening up the blanket for you to climb inside once you have finished cleaning up.

“thank you,” you sigh, a content smile adorning your face as you cuddle up next to him. your arm is not long enough to wrap around his wide torso but rests just above his heart, the soft beating reverberating through your palm.

the exhaustion pools through your body as your eyes lazily shut in the comfort of his arm. kid this opportunity to stare down at you, his gaze memorizing each of your features until his stained, bruised lips rest in a small smile.

“your heart is beating so fast,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

he grunts, spitting out something about how he was thinking about your session that ended mere minutes ago. you accept the answer, still finding pride in your efforts as you shut your eyes once again.

kid manages to capture a couple more peeks before he’s relaxed enough to doze off too, hoping one day he’d be man enough to tell you how he feels. 

celebrate my 3,000 followers event with me!

this post was inspired by it's complicated written by @bby-deerling , so if you like this go read hers too!

[head-shoulders-knees-pain]

Day 17: Aventurine x Gn!Reader - Glove Kink

fandom: Honkai Star Rail word count: 500+ cw: 18+, kink without sex, glove kink, dom reader, sub character, teasing, light degradation (to character), spoilers of his character (job and real name) tag: @ficsforgaza note: I was an idiot and posted it a week early, still hope you enjoy <3

“Is there a purpose behind your gloves or more of a stylistic choice?”

The man in question lets the coin he was flipping land in his hand, before looking up towards me. 

“Oh, these old things? Nothing special, my hands are just too valuable so having them prevents me from touching anything unworthy.” He replies haughtily, though his winking blue and pink eye shows me it’s only a joke.

‘Fine, two can play that game.’ I lean over, taking his right hand. 

“For such a charming man, I have to agree. Can’t have just anyone hold your precious hands, can we?” I emphasize my point by placing a single kiss on one of his rings.

A pause followed by the sound of a gulp has me looking back up, and what a sight I’m greeted with.

His eyes on open display with his shades having fallen down the brim of his nose, wide and alert. His usually unflappable mouth opens and closes but my favorite part is the pink tracing his normally pale cheeks.

In what feels like an eon but is more like a few seconds, he brings his other hand up while clearing his throat. 

“And people call me a smooth talker, guess I really am more a gambler than a charmer haha.”

I arch one of my eyebrows at his display; leaning closer I push more. “My dear Aventurine, don’t tell me you’re soft on me after a simple gesture of goodwill?”

He scoffs and uses his left hand to push me away slightly, speaking quicker with each exchange, “A simple gesture? I’m more used to handshakes or-”

Instead of listening, I evade his push and cup his left hand with mine. “Then perhaps I should get you more acquainted?”

My fingers trace the edge of his glove where it clings to his skin, smiling as I hear a gasp slip past his lips. 

“Really! T-there’s no need for that-” he cuts himself off with a hitch as my fingers dip below the leather and trace his palm.

“While there may be no need, that doesn’t mean you can’t want it. Is that what you want? Want to feel me touch you? I promise I won’t sully you’re precious exterior…unless, of course, you want me to~”

My fingers circle the edge of his glove, waiting for his permission.

His eyes dart between me and the glove, his biting his lip in thought, before whispering a simple, “...please?”

I hum warmly and look up at him again, “Yes? Please what?”

“Take it off, kiss me, anything just do it already-” The quick movement of my hand sliding between his glove and his hand as I remove the glove cuts him off.

His soft pale hand feels almost like a Victorian woman showing her ankles, and who am I but a simple human wanting to oblige their lover’s request?

I cup his bare hand, tracing each digit carefully. I lower my mouth to his hand as I softly place a kiss from his knuckles to his pulse point, up his arm to his jaw until I reach the corner of his mouth.

His little gasps and hums of pleasure are a beautiful melody, but as the conductor of this orchestra, I cut it off with a searing kiss. 

Warm lips pressed together, I feel his hands grab hold of my shoulders to steady himself. It’s a good thing because as soon as I brush my tongue against his lower lip, I can feel a shiver rack through him.

However, I pull away when an idea pops into my head. 

I start to put his glove on my hand as he stares at me dazedly, “W…what are you doing?”

I only hum before I pull it tight and bring my now-gloved hand to caress his cheek, “Thought it might be fun to see what all the fuss was about your gloves.”

My grin only grows as he leans into my touch, “I think there might even be more to your gloves than even you realized.”

I move my gloved thumb to touch his lips, which he quickly opens.

“So obedient, I don’t even have to ask.” 

Slowly, I push my gloved thumb into his warm mouth and am rewarded with a muffled moan.

I use my other hand to discard his shades so his dilated pupils are on full display and card my hand through his hair gently.

“Who would’ve thought, one of the IPC’s Ten Stonehearts was an open pervert who displayed his kinks by wearing them all the time. Is this what you wanted? To have your own glove exploring your wet mouth?”

He whines and closes his eyes, but doesn’t pull away and instead sucks slightly on my digit. 

“No need to answer, I already know.” I press down on his tongue, before removing my thumb.

“Wait! I’m not done-!!” He goes to protest but I shut him up with two of my gloved fingers shoved back in his mouth.

“Don’t worry, this is only the beginning my sweet Kakavasha.”

[licorice-tea]

The Object Of All My Desires

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: so much angst, unrequited feelings (or so law thinks!), pining, yearning, (verbal) fighting, cursing, reader refers to law as a “stalker”, which is valid tbh bc he’s being a little weird, but not really, strawhat reader

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: oh my god i spend so long on this and i just kept hitting mental roadblocks! but then, tonight i got the inspiration to write like ~500 words and finished it up. there were only meant to be 2 parts, but similar to the second season of bridgerton (which it’s inspired by) there will be a 3rd! (the 1st part is based on the first meeting of kate/anthony, this part is based on that entire pinning phase+the confesssion, and the last will be shorter and basically be a resolution of everything.) also, im looking for beta readers! pls dm or comment if you’re interested!!! and if you’d like to be tagged in the next lmk! thanks for reading <3

Part 1 • Part 3

The second time you and Law were around one another long enough to have to face the other and, god forbid, speak, would come 2 years after your first meeting. After all your training apart from your crew, you had finally united and started traveling together again. You and your nakama took on all the challenges Fishman Island had thrown at you and soon moved on to the next adventure: Punk Hazard. It was there you met the standoffish Captain of the Heart Pirates again, and he proposed an alliance to Luffy between your two crews. So here you are; in an alliance with a captain you’d managed to piss off 2 years ago, and who clearly still carries that grudge with him.

Law already doesn’t like being part of the alliance with Straw Hat- but you only make it 1000 times worse. It’s unbearable having to be on the same ship as you, let alone sit at the same table over meals or pass each other in hallways. Not to mention, you seem to make everything a competition. And he doesn’t want to be in as childish a feud as the one that the swordsman and the love cook have, but you’re forcing him to act that way. You’re absolutely insufferable, and how he ever found you remotely intriguing or pretty to begin with is beyond his comprehension.

And yet, Law can’t pull himself away from you, nor you from him. He lingers in dark hallways just to pass by you as you go about your errands on the ship. He stares long enough to burn holes through you, then turns away milliseconds before you catch him (or so he thinks.) But every time you approach the reserved man, he exudes an air of annoyance.

It all makes you wonder, “What’s his deal?” Besides your little tiff back in Sabaody 2 years ago, you’ve never done anything to offend him in his time on the Sunny… Maybe you just need to clear the air. Yeah, that’s it; confront Law and ensure there is no bad blood between the two of you. No grudges, just goodwill.

You hope.

~

The Strawhats and co (Law) are docked at a small island, just for a day or so. Frankly needs supplies, Sanji; ingredients, Chopper; medicine, Zoro; booze, etcetera. And since most of the others have something specific they’re in search of, you have a free day to explore and shop!

You bid Brooke goodbye and thank him for watching the ship, then make your way up the dock and into town. It’s a quaint area, but the market near the entrance of what resembles a town square is overflowing with interesting bits and baubles.

Though you are happy to have this time to yourself, you’re not alone. Law is a mere 20ish feet away. He doesn’t greet you or even make eye contact, instead choosing to lean into shadows and stand behind vendor booths. You can tell that he’s trying to go unnoticed, pretending to be interested in whatever wares the shopkeepers have for sale every time you turn back to check for him.

And it’s fine, for a while. This could be a good opportunity to try and talk to him and ensure that the two of you are on good, if not neutral terms. It’s a little strange that he’s following you now after the two of you have had close to no interactions during his week or so on board the Thousand Sunny, but you don’t mind.

You cannot, however, pass up the opportunity to harmlessly scare him when he gets momentarily distracted by one of the little shops. While Law is reading titles of comic books (how strange…), you double back so that when he looks up, he can’t find you. He scans the marketplace, but to no avail- you must have run off somewhere.

Then you tap his shoulder, and the man nearly jumps out of his skin as he whips his head around to see who it is.

“You really like stalking me, huh?”

“…I’m not stalking you.”

“No? Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s the second time it’s happened.”

“What are you-“

“Sabaody, 2 years ago.”

“I wasn’t stalking you then, either.”

“Fine; following me through at least 3 groves while trying to be quiet and stay out of sight.”

Law scoffs. “Whatever.”

“Hm…” You lean to the side to see what’s behind him; display shelves with various comic books. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing, I wasn’t even looking here.”

“Ah, so it’s ok for you to lie to my face, but not me to you. Got it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You nearly laugh. 2 years ago, after proceeding to follow you through several groves of the Archipelago, Law had insisted on knowing if you were a pirate or not, and the conversation had somehow escalated into an argument. It was a stupid little thing. But, you find it funny now, which is why you’re attempting to make jokes about the encounter and ensure him there are no hard feelings reserved over it. “Again, Sabaody.”

“Well… maybe you should stop carrying a grudge over that.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I only bring it up because I think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s childish.” Law doesn’t know why he says this, to be honest. He wants to come off as smart and witty, though he might not have executed it very well.

With a scoff, you cross your arms. “Law you’ve refused to even look at me in your time with my crew. When I try to talk to you, you act like you don’t hear me or straight up ignore me. Then you go and stare at me from across as if I can’t see you. And I’m childish?”

“Yeah, you are, and I don’t like you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Better than you being an awkward asshole with no explanations as to why.”

“I’m not fucking awkward, shut up.”

“Oh no, you just follow people around for the better part of an hour without talking to them. Very charming.”

Law huffs, unamused, and storms off without another word.

You sigh and continue browsing the stalls. “Ok, so, maybe there is some bad blood between us….”

~

Things are awkward between you and Law for the remainder of the evening. Not only is he avoiding you, but you’re also avoiding him. And though you still try your best to be at least a little friendly, he straight up ignores all of your attempts. Whereas before your little confrontation in the marketplace, the stoic man would have at least responded with an eye roll.

When it’s dinnertime, you take your seat next to Robin as usual. Casual conversation and laughter flow around the table easily and seemingly endlessly… until Law walks in. He sits in the only empty chair, next to Chopper’s, and nods at Sanji in thanks for the food. And you, foolishly, try to incorporate him into the conversation. Maybe you do it to try and heal the small rift between the two of you, or maybe you simply want to provoke him further (though you'd never admit it.)

“So, Law, how was your day?”

Everyone pauses their conversations to not-so-discreetly listen in. They had also recognized the growing tension between you and the ally captain, for seemingly no reason at all.

“Mind your own business.”

“Hard to do when you’re always in mine.”

He nearly spits out his drink.“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m starting to get sick of your behavior, y/n.”

“So sick that you just can’t seem to leave me alone?”

“Watch the way you speak to me-“

“My apologies Law, I’m so used to being watched by you rather than having conversations, I must have forgotten my manners-“

“Shut up!”

“Fuck you!”

Now that both of your voices are raised, the crew sees it fit to intervene.

“Watch how you speak to them, Trafalgar-“ Sanji warns.

Similarly, Robin tries to talk you down. “Y/n, he’s our ally-“

The attempts to calm what had nearly turned into a screaming match prove futile, as Law storms out. You scoff and cross your arms. He’s so infuriating, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Silence passes as your crewmates look between each other, none wanting to be the first to… console you? Admonish? Give advice.

“You two should talk, y/n.” Says Robin, ever so mature.

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me instead of constantly staring at me from across the deck without saying anything.”

“Well, he’s clearly not very good at showing it, but you realize that he likes you, don’t you?”

You blink and turn to look at her. This must be another one of her dark jokes. “Very funny, Robin.”

“Oh, y/n, come on!“ Usopp groans; he’s had enough of the yearning and tension. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Because he doesn’t like me. He’s been holding a stupid grudge against me since the first time we met back in Sabaody-“

Nami backs up Usopp’s point; “A crush, y/n. He’s had a crush on you and he’s too shy to talk to you normally-“

“So, what, it’s ok for him to just watch from afar but then act like a jerk when I try and talk to him?”

Surprisingly, Chopper speaks up next. “…Maybe your intentions came off different than intended?”

This makes you bite your lip in thought. Perhaps they had.

Nami pats your shoulder, “Now, go work this out so the rest of us don’t have to deal with all your unresolved tension.”

You unintentionally pout; the last thing you want is to talk to Law right now. But, your crew urges you on, and all but pushes you out the door.

~

You find him pacing back and forth on the starboard deck of the Sunny.

“Law?”

He whips around and you swear you see his scowl become even more pronounced than usual. The crease between his brows deepens, as the corners of his lips turn into a borderline pout. “Not done tormenting me?

“Tormenting? I just… I came to talk to you.“

“I find that hard to believe. From the moment we met, you have been nothing but rude and a nuisance to me.”

You scoff, all plans of reconciliation forgotten. “Believe me, Law, the feeling is mutual.”

“Fuck off.”

“This is my ship, so why don’t you fuck off? Jump overboard for all I care.”

“Maybe I will if it gets me away from you.” Law turns on his heel and storms off the open deck and into a hallway.

“Good luck swimming, asshole!”

Your rebuttal brings him right back to his former position, face to face with you so that your screaming match can continue “I hope you know that every moment I have to spend on this ship is torture, y/n, all because of you.”

“I haven’t done shit to you, Law.”

“Then whose fault is it that I feel this way? Go on, name someone else so I can take it out on them instead.”

“It’s your fault if you feel any type of way about me besides amicably. I’ve been nothing but kind, and-“

“Bullshit. Whether you know it or not you’ve done… something to me, I can feel it.”

“Oh yeah? And since when do you know anything about how you feel, all you do is brood.”

“I don’t brood. And I know that you are the bane of my existence.” He spits back, making sure to emphasize the word bane.

You hold your breath, refusing to play into this childish argument any longer. Or maybe it’s because, even if it’s just a little, his words genuinely hurt. You realize then, that you don’t want to be the so called ‘bane of his existence.’ He takes your silence as an opportunity to continue, though at a much lower volume than before.

“… And the object of all my desires.”

After a moment of disbelief, your scowl turns to a raised brow. “Excuse me?”

“Every one of my waking hours is plagued by thoughts of you. It doesn’t help that I can’t go anywhere on this goddamned ship-“

“Don’t you talk about the Sunny that way-“

“- without seeing you!”

“Well you must enjoy being around me if you’ve decided I’m,” you create air quotations with your hands, “the object of all your desires.”

You feel so out of your depth now. All you know to do is to bite back with witty remarks, even when he opens up to you. And he seems to do the exact same.

“It’s a nuisance.”

Your lip trembles, but you refuse to cry in front of Law while he plays this sick mind game with you. “I didn’t know liking me was such an awful fate.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “There are so many other things I should be focused on, but all I think of is you. It’s not awful, but it’s making me weak.”

“You’re such a prick, Law.”

He’s bewildered, mouth gaping as he tries to understand what could’ve been wrong with what he’s just confessed to you. “I’m saying I like you, y/n, I- Do you hate me that much?”

“No, I don’t hate you, idiot! But you- when you started traveling with us, you made me feel like I had done something to offend you, and then when I confronted you about it in the market you started to really hold a grudge, then you - I just- that’s not how you treat people!”

“Y/n-“

“Are you messing with me right now, Law? Is this another play to try and gain the upper hand in this… ongoing thing we have?”

“No, I wouldn’t…” He trails off and shakes his head. He probably would, if he weren’t so enamored with you and on the condition he possessed the social skills to pull off such an elaborate scheme. “It’s not.”

You’re silent again, but both you and Law are refusing to break eye contact. He must notice your still watery eyes and trembling bottom lip because he steps forward. His hand travels to your arm, then your chin. Forced to look at him, you are pained to see a similar unhappy look in his eyes. Minus the tears. You could almost take him for sorry if it weren’t Trafalgar Law, of all people. So instead of falling into his arms like you suddenly feel a desperate need to; you step backward.

You fold your arms over your chest as you look off somewhere- anywhere besides his eyes. “Law, nothing good can come of this.”

“This? What is this, y/n?”

“These.. feelings.”

“You feel the same?”

“I didn’t ask to feel this way!” You bite back, “But… yes, I do.”

“So what should we do?”

“We aren’t going to do anything, Law. You just stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine.”

“I thought you didn’t like that I was avoiding you?”

“Well now that I know why, what else can be done? Nothing can happen between us, Law. And we can’t allow feelings to complicate this alliance. I can’t allow that, at least; it’s too important to Luffy.”

He searches for reasoning that will trump yours but comes up with none. And so, with a heavy heart, he concedes. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing happened.” Law confirms.

“And nothing will.”

You nod and start walking away. “Goodnight, Law.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

And once you’re back safely in your room, the tears start to spill. You hate this- you hate him. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you’re in love with him, and it took you this long to realize.

The tears don’t stop until you’re knocked out, and by the time you wake up, they’ve stained your cheeks.

Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake

[lightsoutnaway]

Cry Baby

PAIRING: Lando x gn! reader (no pronouns)

SUMMARY: You have a habit of crying during movies. Lando finds it cute.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 500

One of the first things that Lando noticed about you when you started dating was how easily you cried at movies. Almost any television show, movie, and even the right commercial could bring tears to your eyes. Lando couldn’t relate to this trait of yours in the slightest. No matter what movie you watched with him he never cried. None of the children’s movies, romantic dramas, or feel good movies could get to him, and they always had you in tears.

Lando had your head in his lap, gently running his hand through your hair with one hand. The other was scrolling his phone. You were watching an old sitcom. This one wasn’t really his thing, but he was on break. He wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to spend time with you.

Lando was looking at a fancam of himself. You would tease him for it, but he didn’t mind. He knew you liked watching them too. He swiped to the next video when he heard you sniffle. Lando looked down at you.

“Are you crying?” Lando asked. You let out a little huff.

“I’m not crying,” you mumbled as you wiped away a tear. Lando held in a chuckle. He tucked your hair away from your face. He reached down and wiped a stray tear away.

“You’re such a baby,” Lando teased lovingly. You frowned up at him.

“I am not,” you said sharply.

“You are. You cry at like half the things we watch,” Lando said. He was smiling at you though.

“You just repress all your emotions, Mr. Never Cries,” you said.

“No, I talk about everything with you. I’m just not a little softie, baby,” Lando teased. You pouted, your expression only more endearing to Lando.

“Don’t make fun,” you said quietly and your lip quivered. Lando’s eyes went soft.

“Oh, baby,” Lando cooed. He pulled you up into his lap so you were straddling his thighs. Your arms naturally moved to his shoulders. One of his hands rested on your hip and the other on your cheek.

“I love how much you cry, you know that?” Lando asked. You frowned at him.

“Don’t lie, Lan. I know I’m annoying,” you said. Lando frowned at that.

“You’re not annoying,” Lando said. “You’re never annoying.”

“Fine, but there’s no reason to like how much I cry,” you mumbled.

“Yes, there is,” Lando said. You looked at him, a tear slipping from your eye. Lando smiled. “I get to do this.” He leaned forward and kissed the tears on your cheeks away. His arms went around you pulling you into his chest as he moved his lips to press them firmly against your forehead. He held you for a moment before squeezing you and taking his lips off your forehead. “And this is one of my favorite things,” he said.

“You’re gonna make me cry more,” you whimpered. Lando let out a light chuckle.

“Cry as much as you want, baby. I’ll kiss all the tears away.”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE TAMING OF THE CROW

Synopsis: Despite an initial reluctance, Tabito heads off to a mysterious soccer program by the name of Blue Lock. Luckily, it’s not long before you get to see him again. Continuation of Five Ways to Kill a Crow and How to Drown a Crow!

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 16.1k

Content Warnings: spoilers for the u-20 arc of the manga, otoya slander to an unhealthy degree, reader’s best friend is crazily down bad, the bllk boys have karasu STRESSING, half of them think reader is fine af 💯, did i mention otoya slander because there is a LOT of that, 99% crackfic so don’t expect stunning characterization in this one it’s mostly silly compared to the first two parts, chigiri’s sister is also referred to as chigiri, reader & co. accidentally become famous

A/N: here is the final continuation of fwtkac that you requested karasu anon 💖 incidentally also the longest…w this installment the mini-series is over 30k words LMAOAO i hope you have enjoyed the ride because ik i have!!

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult to reveal your relationship with Tabito to the rest of your friends and classmates. There wasn’t an official announcement or anything along those lines — neither of you were that big on social media, so you didn’t bother with launching each other there, and since half of the school already thought you were dating, things settled into an even rhythm quite quickly.

Tabito’s friends and teammates weren’t all-too-shocked, either. Apparently, you were just about the last person to find out about the crush he had had on you since middle school, so to everyone else, him asking you out had been all but foregone conclusion. What your respective circles were surprised about, at least at first, was that you had said yes.

You’re way too hot for him. This was what Tabito’s group said upon finding out about the news, which was met with crabbiness from Tabito and nothing more than a snort from you. They were just messing with him in any way they could, considering how difficult it typically was to find cracks in his flawless demeanor, so it was easy to dismiss. On the other hand, your own friends gave you confused looks — weren’t you just talking about how much you hate him? You could only shrug, because they weren’t wrong, exactly. You had been complaining about him only days previously, but it was funny how quickly things could change. They accepted it without much more questioning, however, congratulating you on finally getting a boyfriend, and after that life continued as it previously had, except now whenever your friend groups decided to hang out together, you would find yourself at Tabito’s side instead of as far as possible from him.

Being his official girlfriend was everything you had expected and more. He got along well with your parents — your father remembered his name and asked you how he was doing constantly, and your mother was always pleased by the steady supply of flowers he provided for your kitchen counter — as well as your friends, managing to strike that elusive balance of showing them kindness without being overly involved in their lives. His family adored you, especially his older sister, who frequently took you out shopping or for coffee, much to Tabito’s chagrin. All in all, things were going well, and though you two still competed over your grades, it was without the fervor of the past, so that you were gladder for one another’s success than you were incensed by them.

“I hate couples,” your best friend announced one day at lunch. You had finished eating early, so you were leaning against Tabito’s arm and playing Subway Surfers on his phone while he talked to one of his teammates about their upcoming match. Ever since you had discovered his penchant for the childish game, it had become a personal goal of yours to beat his high score, though you had not yet even come close.

“Hm,” you said. She scowled.

“I’m serious!” she said.

“You’re just mad because you’re single,” you said. “I told you I’m working on it, didn’t I? It’s not my fault all of Tabito’s friends are losers!”

She sighed. “I know. Actually, you two aren’t the ones that prompted me to say that this time, oddly enough.”

“Oh, then who did?” you said.

“You know how I went to visit my cousins last weekend?” she said. You nodded. “Well, we went to watch a movie while we were there, that new one I was really excited about, but somehow it ended up that we got stuck behind this guy on a date!”

“How’d you know that he was on a date?” you said.

“Because there was a girl sitting next to him, and he sucked her face off for the entire movie, thereby completely blocking the screen. Can you believe it? The worst part is, he was totally stupid looking!” she said.

“That’s annoying,” you said, secure in the knowledge that you and Tabito would never do something like that. Public displays of affection beyond hugging or holding hands weren’t really your vibe, and just the thought of making out in a movie theater caused you to feel nauseous. “How’d you know he was dumb looking, though? Wasn’t the theater dark?”

“I confronted him afterwards,” she said.

“While he was on a date? That’s a bold move,” you said. “What did the girl say?”

“Huh? Oh, she had already left. Guess she wasn’t that into him,” your best friend said.

“Yikes,” you said before pouting as your little Subway Surfers character was hit by a train. “Aw, man, I died. At this rate, I’ll never beat the high score.”

“Hey, can I have my phone for a second?” Tabito said, turning to you and plucking the device out of your hand before you could answer. You frowned, so he patted you on the head. “I’ll give it back. I just need to text our coach and remind him to bring my cooler back during the game tonight.”

“Whatever,” you said before directing your attention towards your best friend again. “Okay, describe this guy. I’m really interested in what could have driven you to judge his appearance so harshly.”

“Listen!” she said. “His hair was green!”

“Green?” you said. 

“Yes! Well, mostly it was a grayish white, but there was a green streak, and the undercut part was also green,” she said. You tried to picture it and found you were entirely incapable of imagining anything but the most ridiculous of styles.

“That’s wild,” you said. “Who told him that was a good idea?”

“I just wonder how much bleach he has to use to get it to be that color,” she said. You shuddered.

“I know for a fact that he had the most damaged, dead, crunchy-looking hair ever,” you said. Your best friend shook her head.

“It was actually pretty shiny and luscious,” she said. “If it weren’t for the weird choice of color and his terrible theater etiquette, I could see why someone might consider him attractive.”

“Maybe you can fix him,” you suggested. She immediately scowled in a clear-cut refusal.

“The main thing I’ve learned from your relationship with Karasu is that you can never fix a man’s hair, no matter how much he likes you,” she said.

“Huh? Did you say my name?” Tabito said, handing you his phone back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you and your best friend said in unison.

“That was suspicious,” he informed you.

“Just know that I’ll break up with you if you ever dye even a strand of your hair green,” you said.

He gave you an odd look. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyways, that’s my rant for the day,” your best friend said as Tabito evidently decided it would be for the best to leave you to your own conversation, which he was missing far too much context from to possibly understand.

“That really is awful,” you said. “Don’t worry. Someday soon, we’ll find you someone to date, and then you can be the annoying couple everyone slanders. Trust me on that one.”

“I do,” she said. “I have faith that you’re just being picky because you love me so much that you refuse to let me be with a substandard man.”

“Exactly,” you said.

She made a heart with her hands. “You’re the best.”

“I try!”

Now that autumn was bleeding into winter, it was getting chillier and chillier out during Bambi Osaka’s games. Thankfully, Tabito had draped his large jacket over your shoulders before running off to yell at his coach for once again forgetting to bring his cooler back, so you were mostly protected from the frost in the air. You could not say the same for the Bambi Osaka boys, who all looked miserably cold as they jogged in place, trying to warm up in their shorts and jerseys while Tabito and the coach argued.

“Y/N! I didn’t realize you were coming today!” a familiar voice said, its owner leaning over the fence separating the bleachers from the field. You extended your hand to ruffle his hair.

“I come to all of your games, Hiori, why would this one be any different?” you said. He gave you a sheepish grin.

“I know, but now that’s it not as nice out, I thought you might not,” he said. You pulled on the sleeve of your jacket to draw attention to it; Hiori grunted in approval when he noticed.

“Don’t worry, Tabito’s on top of it. Just between us two, I think he would cry if I had to miss one of his games, so he always makes sure I’m as comfortable as possible when I come,” you said.

“He’s a really considerate guy,” Hiori said. As if on cue, both of you turned to look at where he and their coach were still going at it.

“Holy fucking shit!” Tabito screamed. “Give me my cooler back, dude, you’ve had it for weeks!”

“I need it for the party I’m throwing this Saturday!” their coach shouted back. 

“I don’t give a damn about your party! Give me back my cooler!”

“Right,” you said, stifling a laugh. “Super considerate.”

Hiori cringed. “I guess nobody’s perfect.”

Ever since you had started dating Tabito, Hiori had become something of a permanent fixture in your life. He never tried to flirt with you or anything — you didn’t even think he was capable of having those feelings — but he was just so used to trailing after Tabito that, by extension, he began to follow you around as well. It wasn’t really that bad; you both lived close to one another, and frequently he’d ask you to come to the convenience store with him so he could ask you for advice under the guise of buying snacks together. You always went along with it, as you sensed he didn’t have many other sources of reliable help and wisdom.

For his part, Tabito didn’t really mind that Hiori’s attachment to him now included you. The thought of being jealous of the younger boy never even crossed his mind, mostly because he, too, didn’t really believe that the gentle and benign Hiori was capable of anything as underhanded as stealing his girlfriend. Overall, he was more bemused than anything, treating him with the careful fondness of someone who had been given a puppy they had no idea how to care for but found cute anyways.

Soon enough, Tabito joined you and Hiori, dragging his feet and hanging his head as he flopped against the fence. Exhaling, you reached out and stroked the side of his face with the back of your hand.

“Any success?” you said.

“Nope,” he said. “Another week without my cooler.”

“At least it’s getting to be winter,” Hiori said. “You won’t really need it to keep your drinks chilled for a while, right?”

“Tell that to my sister,” Tabito said. “She keeps bugging me about where I put it. I guess she needs it for college or something. Don’t ask me why.”

“I’m sure he’ll bring it to the next game,” Hiori said optimistically. Tabito let out a defeated sigh.

“We can only hope,” he said.

“In the meantime, you two should go over with the rest of your team before you both get yelled at for slacking off and get me banned from coming to anymore games,” you said.

“If he keeps holding my cooler hostage and bans you from games, I’ll fight that dumbass coach!” Tabito said. You pushed him away affectionately.

“Alright, alright, I feel very comforted by that. Thank you for defending my — and your cooler’s — honor,” you said. “Go play soccer.”

With a joking salute, Tabito, and also Hiori, ran off to join the rest of their team, and you settled back to sit with the rest of the attendees of the game, who were mostly parents of the players. All of them knew who you were at this point, though, so you were welcomed with open arms, easily joining in on their discussions about such subjects as how their children were doing in school and what their plans for dinner were.

It was a comfortable existence, and as you pulled Tabito’s jacket tighter around you, you thought that you could get used to it. If only things could stay exactly like this, you would be quite happy. If you could spend every day with Tabito and Hiori and the rest of your friends, you would never complain again.

Unfortunately, life was always changing, as you knew all too well. One day, both Tabito and Hiori received letters summoning them to some soccer training camp far away from your corner of the country, and though Hiori leapt at the chance, Tabito was initially uncertain at the prospect of leaving everything behind for a program that wasn’t even a sure thing.

“What if it doesn’t help me and I give up my schooling for it?” he said, pacing around his bedroom. You raised your eyebrows at him from your seat at his desk, where you were working on a lab report for Chemistry. “Do they really expect me to run there during my last year of high school? What about board exams and college? How am I supposed to get into a good university if I’m playing soccer when I should be studying?”

“Why do you think you won’t succeed in the program?” you said. “You’re amazing at soccer. If you join, you’ll definitely do well, and then you’ll become a professional athlete, so you won’t have to worry about college or anything like that.”

“Of course I’ll do well,” he said. This actually wasn’t anything like his normal self-confidence; when he was in this kind of mood, he didn’t brag, he only evaluated himself and the situation honestly, weighing the costs and benefits until he could come to a conclusion that he was satisfied with. “I just don’t like the thought of not having a fallback option. Even if I become a professional athlete, things like injuries can happen to anyone. It’s not smart to not have a backup plan. That’s why I wasn’t planning on trying out for the U-20 squad until after I got accepted to a university.”

“You can’t give up on your dreams for the sake of a backup plan, though,” you said, finishing up the report and clicking the submit button, shutting your laptop and spinning the chair around so you were looking at him. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

“No,” he said bluntly.

Blue Lock and its outcomes were like the water — entirely out of Tabito’s control, and hence something he was automatically opposed to. But unlike swimming and wading, this was also an opportunity for him to pursue his greatest dreams, so you stood and grabbed him by the shoulders. He halted in his tracks, cocking his head at you as you clasped his hands in between your own and gave him the sternest look you could muster.

“Listen to me,” you said. “You are not going to drown. You’re not because I say you’re not, and have I ever led you astray? You’re going to go to this Blue Lock place with Hiori, and then the two of you are going to come back and be so good at soccer that you immediately join the national team and end up so rich and famous that I can’t help but marry you and become your trophy wife.”

“When you say you, you’re referring to me, not Hiori, right?” he checked with a snicker. You poked him in the chest.

“Obviously,” you said.

“Do you really think it’ll be okay?” he said. 

“I think you won’t know if you don’t try. You’re so smart, Tabito; even if you somehow fail as a soccer player, I don’t think you’ll be unable to go to college. In fact, you could probably do this camp, come back and take your exams while on a break, and still get second in our class,” you said.

“Second?” he said.

“Of course, I’ll be the one getting first,” you said. “Second is still respectable, though. Any university of note would kill to have you, but a chance to improve your soccer career like this might not come around again for a while, if ever. Take it. Take it with both hands and don’t regret it a bit, okay?”

“You’re convincing,” he said, embracing you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Thank you.”

“So you’ll do it?” you said.

“I’ll do it.”

A week later, he was gone. Even his phone was taken away, leaving you without any manner of contacting him in the meantime. To be sure, it was lonely, but you were too busy being proud of him to be depressed about it. Besides, you weren’t the type to abandon your friends just because you were in a relationship, so your invitations to events had never stopped coming. Now, you just said yes to them more often, much to everyone’s excitement.

That was what you did while Tabito was busy at Blue Lock: you hung out with your friends, having sleepovers and going for platonic dates with the ones you were particularly close with, and you visited his sister at her college when she was free, so you could hear embarrassing stories about his past, which you carefully filed away for later use. Occasionally, you even met up with Yukimiya’s girlfriend — in a shocking twist, he had also been invited to Blue Lock, much like Tabito — and the two of you would speculate about what your boyfriends might be up to in that strange facility and whether they might’ve met each other yet or not. 

It wasn’t horrible. Undeniably, you missed him, but it was bearable, and you knew he would be back as soon as he could be, so for the most part, you didn’t let yourself grow too sad. Your father was probably the worst off out of anyone, actually, always nagging you about when Tabito would return. He had grown used to having a friend to watch sports alongside, and was now entirely forlorn without any company to discuss his beloved games with. 

Some weeks after Blue Lock began, you received two emails with nearly identical subject headers. With a confused frown, you opened both of them in turn, but slowly, your expression turned to a smile as you read over their contents.

Congratulations, Y/N L/N! Blue Lock 11 player number 6, Tabito Karasu, has designated you as the recipient of his friends/family ticket to the Blue Lock 11 vs Japan U-20 match! Scan the attached QR code upon your arrival to the stadium in order to make your way to your VIP seat.

Congratulations, Y/N L/N! Blue Lock 11 substitute number 16, Yo Hiori, has designated you as the recipient of his friends/family ticket to the Blue Lock 11 vs Japan U-20 match! Scan the attached QR code upon your arrival to the stadium in order to make your way to your VIP seat.

Both Tabito and Hiori had chosen to give you their seats, which meant you technically had an extra one, so you could bring someone along with you. Your first thought was your father, considering how much he loved soccer, but then you pondered it further and decided that you probably did not want to spend the whole match listening to him explaining the rules. Plus, the game was in Tokyo, so if the two of you went together, you both would have to share a hotel room, and he’d make you spend the entire trip with him instead of exploring and possibly seeing Tabito, if you got the chance.

No, there was really only one choice. With an aunt who lived in the city and a deep-rooted desire to get a boyfriend, your best friend was the clear pick to take along with you to the game, and you knew before you even asked that she would agree to it. After all, what better way was there for you both to spend the two weeks of your last winter break before university?

As you had expected, she agreed enthusiastically and readily, texting you that her aunt was alright with you two staying at her place, as long as you didn’t mind that she’d probably be busy with work most of the time. Of course, this was more of a benefit than a drawback, so you forwarded the email containing Hiori’s invitation to her and immediately began the process of packing for your two week vacation.

Since you would be staying with a responsible adult — meaning your best friend’s aunt, not her herself — your parents didn’t mind that you were going on a mini-trip without them. Your father already knew about the game thanks to his subscription to the JFU’s magazine, and he was so exhilarated at the thought of you getting to attend it in person that you almost felt bad not telling him that he could’ve come, too. Then you imagined having to sleep in a twin bed while he snored in the one across from you and stopped feeling guilty entirely.

“Do you think it would be corny if I wore blue to the game?” you said when the day of the match dawned. You had made a mess of your suitcase trying to decide what you wanted to wear, and when you looked over at your best friend’s side of the room, you noticed that it was in a similar state.

“Maybe a little bit,” she said. “At least, if you went for an all-blue Smurf aesthetic. It would kind of make you look like a mascot or something.”

“I was thinking about that,” you said. “Ugh! This is so hard. Normally, I just wear one of Tabito’s jackets or extra jerseys at his games, so that I look all supportive and whatnot, but it’s kind of hard to do that when I haven’t even spoken to him in weeks and have zero clue what his Blue Lock jersey looks like.”

“That one coat you brought is his, right? You could wear that with a blue shirt underneath it so that it’s subtle but still clear which side you’re on,” she suggested. You closed your eyes, mentally putting the clothes on and deciding that it was a great outfit idea, giving off the exact effect you were aiming for.

“I knew ‘Hiori’ invited you for a reason,” you said. She chucked a pillow at you, fully aware that she was only even going to the game because you had been invited by both Bambi Osaka boys.

“I’ll be sure to thank him when I see him,” she said.

“Do you know what he looks like?” you said.

“No, but won’t his jersey say his name?” she reasoned.

“Touché,” you said. “Anyways, what are you going to wear?”

“It needs to be something casual but also cute, so if any of the players — the single ones, anyways — happen to look up at me, they are instantly smitten and ask me for my number once they win the game, after which we date until I’ve graduated college and they’ve made it in the big leagues, whereupon they will propose to me and we will get married in the most extravagant wedding the world has ever seen,” she said.

“Um,” you said, your mind working overtime to comprehend the run-on. “Sure. In that case, maybe you should go with the sweater dress you brought. It’s not blue, but you look really pretty in it, and if you put on a longer cardigan along with some tights, you should stay warm. Maybe your aunt has a blue scarf you can borrow? If you want to look spirited.”

“You’re a genius!” she said. 

“Thanks, I do my best,” you said before a silence lapsed between the two of you, both too busy getting ready to gossip, as you had been non-stop since you had arrived in Tokyo.

The ticket scanner definitely looked suspicious at the fact that both of you claimed to be named Y/N L/N, but there was nothing that she could do about it. After all, you both had unique invitations from two separate members of Blue Lock, so what did it matter what your names were? With a curt nod, she approved your tickets and described which way you had to go to get to your seats, though you were certain she was glaring at you as you walked in the direction she had indicated.

“Are you excited?” your best friend said, rubbing her hands together to warm them up. 

“I’m more excited to see Tabito again than anything. No matter how the game goes, I’m happy if he’s there,” you said.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” she said. “Pining has made you a changed woman. The Y/N I once knew would never say anything along those lines.”

“Oh, but you can plan your wedding and it’s perfectly normal?” you said, raising your eyebrows. She gave you a double-thumbs-up.

“That’s all hypothetical, so it’s not an issue,” she said. “On the other hand, you being all sappy about Karasu is reality.”

“You have a point,” you said. “My apologies. Moving on, are you excited?”

“Just to see if the players are good looking,” she said. “I don’t know that much about soccer.”

“It’s okay, I don’t, either,” you said.

“Your boyfriend is literally on the team?” she said. 

“Look, as long as someone on our side kicks the ball into the net, I’m happy,” you said. “If someone on the other side kicks the ball into the net, then I’m sad. That’s kind of the gist of it. Tabito and Hiori have tried explaining the finer details of the sport, but to be honest, it’s a bit beyond me.”

“Excuse me, but is anyone sitting with you two?” a bright voice said. You looked up to see a tall girl with cascading red hair and a brilliant grin pointing at the seat on your left with a questioning tilt to her head.

“Nope,” you said. Unfortunately, Yukimiya’s girlfriend’s school break didn’t align with the game, and she had regretfully told you over the phone that she would be unable to make it, so you and your best friend were on your own. “All yours!”

“Thanks!” she said. “My mother went to go sit with the other parents, and I was planning on going with her, but you two look closer to my age, so I was hoping it would be alright if I stayed here instead.”

“Believe me, I get it,” you said. “I’ve had to hang out with way too many parents at Tabito’s games. They’re nice and all, but most of the stuff they talk about is hardly relatable.”

“Exactly!” she said. “I can’t explain how happy I am to have found you two. I’m Hyoma Chigiri’s sister, by the way! According to the email we got, he’s number 4. Which players do you both know?”

“I’m number 6’s girlfriend,” you said, motioning down towards where the players were beginning to enter the field, getting some last-minute practice in before the game. “Tabito Karasu.”

You wished he would look over so you could wave at him, but he was utterly focused on his teammates and their warm up, so you contented yourself with admiring him from afar. It was clear to anyone that he was in his element, and a lump formed in your throat when you remembered that he had almost given this up. He had almost stayed back, and you could not even begin to fathom how much he would have regretted it if he had.

“I see him!” Chigiri said, shading her eyes with her hand so she didn’t have to narrow them against the sun. “My brother’s right over by where he is.”

Her brother was almost identical to her, a lean boy with flowing hair and a pointed face, and even if she hadn’t pointed him out, you would’ve made the connection.

“He looks just like you,” your best friend said, vocalizing what you had been thinking.

“We get that a lot,” Chigiri said. “What about you? Who are you with?”

“Technically, I’m not with anyone,” your best friend said. “The thing is, both Karasu and number 16, Yo Hiori, invited Y/N, so I just took her extra — what the fuck.”

“Is everything okay?” you said. Both you and Chigiri shot her concerned looks, but she was too busy staring at the field with her jaw dropped to pick up on it. “Hello? What’s gotten into you?”

“Y/N L/N,” she said. “Why is your boyfriend talking to that — that — that creature? Why is that thing even on the field in the first place?”

“Number 9?” Chigiri said. “Do you know him?”

True to her word, Tabito was speaking animatedly to player number 9, who according to his jersey was named Otoya. He was a slender and clearly handsome boy, his pale hair streaked through with green and his features distinctly sharp despite the distance. For some reason, there was something familiar about his description, and it was only when you noticed that your best friend was all but seething that the conversation came back to you.

“Are you serious?” you said. “That Otoya dude is the theater guy?”

“Deadly serious,” she snapped. “What is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be off ruining innocent moviegoers’ experiences?”

“Playing soccer, I’d expect,” you said. “It looks like he’s starting for the Blue Lock 11, too. He must be good — I mean, even Hiori is just a substitute, and he’s crazy talented, so their starting lineup must be nothing short of spectacular.”

The two teams got into position as the clock was set up, and a hush fell over the stadium as the ball was brought onto the field for the kickoff. Unexpectedly, Chigiri grabbed your hand, clutching it so tightly that your circulation was impaired, and when you glanced over at her, you saw that her shoulders were tense.

“Hyoma tore his ACL recently,” she murmured. “He never said it aloud, but I think he’s wanted to quit soccer ever since. This is the first time he’s starting in a game since before he was injured. I’m worried it’ll happen again.”

You rubbed soothing circles against her wrist. “He’ll be alright. I don’t think they would put him in if it was a health risk. Plus, they have substitutes, and I’m sure he’s much more in-tune with his body now, so the second he feels something off, he’ll probably ask to be put out.”

Chigiri dabbed at her face. “Thanks. You’re right. This is an exciting game! I shouldn’t bring down the mood. Let’s get ready to cheer our lungs out!”

The referee blew the whistle, and then the match was on. You could hardly keep up with the players’ movements, so fast was it all; this was a level of skill that even you could recognize was far above anything you had ever seen. Every single player on the pitch was at least on Tabito and Hiori’s level, if not above it. Unlike Bambi Osaka, where Tabito was the captain of the team and often had to play doubly as aggressively because of that, he blended right into the mix of talents that was this motley collection of high school forwards. You could tell even from so far away that this thrilled him instead of grating on his nerves; he wasn’t the kind of person who craved the spotlight, after all. If anything, it was something he shied away from, preferring to strike at his opponent’s weak points from the dark, and it was only here, with the rest of the Blue Lock 11, that he could finally play how he preferred.

When the first goal on Blue Lock’s side was scored, by the tall, pale-haired number 7, you, your best friend, and Chigiri shot to your feet, screaming and clapping as loud as you could. Your enthusiasm, which was a stark contrast to everyone else’s quiet confusion, sparked a tidal wave. The entire stadium resounded with a roar of approval as the number 7 — Nagi — crashed to the ground before raising his fist, getting tackled by his teammates directly afterwards in celebration. 

“That was amazing!” your best friend said as everyone settled for the restart. “I never realized that soccer could be so exciting to watch.”

“That guy is skilled,” you agreed. “So is everyone else. Including that Otoya—”

“Don’t even mention him!” she said. “Nagi’s the one who scored, so stick to praising him!”

“Hyoma’s doing so well!” Chigiri said, her cheeks pink from the cold and round from her grin. “I can’t believe it. It’s like he was never hurt at all!”

“Honestly, this is way more intense than I expected,” your best friend said, hugging herself tightly. “I really hope they manage to win.”

“They will,” you said. “I’m confident of that.”

Maybe the Blue Lock 11 were the underdogs, but something told you that they were going to win. There was just this fire to them, a heat and a hatred that emanated off of only their side of the field. The docile U-20 boys, who were so dependent on the efforts of defender Aiku and midfielder Sae, could never hope to compete with that overwhelming energy, which was so potent that the bleachers themselves were washed in it.

That was why you weren’t even surprised when number 10, Rin, scored another goal right before half-time, ending the first half with a lead for Blue Lock. You knew for a fact that your voice would be hoarse the next day from how much you were shouting, but based on your best friend’s and Chigiri’s faces, you figured you were in good company and didn’t even take any measures to lessen the severity of the consequence.

As the players began to move towards their respective locker rooms, Chigiri stood up and began to wave her hands frantically.

“Hyoma! Over here!” she called out. Her brother paused in the middle of drinking from his water bottle, whipping around, his face turning the same shade as his hair when he noticed his sister, who pulled out her phone and took a picture of him. “He noticed me! Ah, hello, Hyoma! You’re doing awesome!”

Tabito and Otoya walked past where the younger Chigiri was frozen in place, and before they could vanish into the locker room and out of your sight, you cupped your hands around your mouth.

“Tabito!” you said. He stopped in his tracks before twisting back to face you, his face breaking into such a wide grin when he saw you that it was a wonder his face did not ache from it. He raised his hand in greeting, and you did the same, so relieved to see him again that you thought you might vomit from the giddiness.

Beside you, your best friend stood, drawing herself to her full height. Then, before you could stop her, she jabbed her finger towards Otoya, who had remained at Karasu’s side when he had stopped to greet you. Otoya turned his head this way and that before pointing at himself hesitantly. Your best friend nodded and then stuck up her middle finger at him, causing Tabito to burst into a fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking as he dragged the helpless Otoya away from where he was suddenly rooted to the ground in perplexity.

“That’s what he gets,” she said with satisfaction, sitting back down now that she had accomplished her mission.

“He probably has no idea who you are,” you said, giggling to yourself, finding great entertainment in the one-sided feud she had with Otoya, who appeared to be a great friend of Tabito’s. “Also, you described him horribly back then. He’s really pretty good-looking, and the hair is nowhere near as bad as you made it sound.”

“I’m telling Karasu you said that,” she said. “If I was him, I’d be offended! My beloved girlfriend finds a guy who appears to be fresh out of the swamp attractive? That would really make me insecure.”

“I don’t find him attractive, I just said that he’s good looking. It’s objective,” you said. “And fresh out of the swamp? Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

She glared at you. “No way. He owes me the price of the ticket he made me waste, but since he obviously isn’t going to pay me back, I’m going to make as much fun of him as possible.”

“You do that,” you said, judging that there was no arguing with her. “Chigiri, do you want any snacks? I’m going to head to the concession stands while there’s a break.”

“Could you get me some fries? I’ll send you the money,” she said.

“As long as you save my seat,” you said. 

“Of course! Go quickly, I’m sure the lines are going to be long. There’s a lot of people here,” she said.

“Good idea,” you said, racing off and cutting through the crowds swarming the many concession stands so that you could get some fries for her, candy for your best friend, and chips for yourself.

The second half was even more exciting than the first, though you hadn’t previously thought that that was possible. A boy named Shidou, who had something like a current crackling through him, joined the U-20s as their striker, and in quick succession, he managed to not only tie up the score but actually get a lead, thereby undoing all of the work that Nagi and Rin had put in. To make things worse, right after Shidou’s first goal, Hyoma Chigiri collapsed, earning a gasp from his sister as she shoved a fistful of fries in her mouth. Simultaneously, one of their defenders, the number 3, stumbled before slumping over entirely

“It looks like a cramp,” you reassured Chigiri as one of the other players helped her brother stretch out his leg and then stand. “And I think Niko must’ve sprained his ankle during that earlier play. They’re going to have to put in alternates, but it’s not serious. Both of them just need some rest and they’ll be okay.”

“If you say so,” she said, biting her lip.

“No way, is that Reo Mikage?” your best friend said, her eyes wide as a tall, well-built boy took Niko’s place on the field. He had purple hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and a desperate sort of anger simmered beneath his serene exterior. You squinted and found she was right — the name Reo was indeed written above the large number 14 on his back.

“Like the corporate heir?” you said. Everyone who was anyone knew about the Mikages, but what business did the son have playing soccer? Then again, you supposed even the wealthiest people in the world had to have hobbies. Maybe soccer was just what filled the void for him. You supposed you couldn’t really comment either way.

“I’m sure of it!” your best friend said. “Oh, man, Y/N, he’s even more gorgeous in person…do you think Karasu knows him? Can I get an introduction? He’s so dreamy and perfect and amazing and unreal!”

“I can ask. I’m sure they’re at least acquainted, considering they’re playing on the same team — wait! Look, it’s Hiori! Oh my goodness, it’s Hiori! Yay, yay, Hiori! You’ve got this!” you squealed, pointing at him insistently. He was the one going in for Chigiri, and though he seemed solemn, you knew he must be nothing less than agitated at the moment. You willed him to glance up at you, and whether it was divine intervention or just a coincidence, he happened to shift towards your direction and thus made direct eye contact with you.

Immediately, any gloominess dropped from his shoulders, and you showed him your fingers, which were crossed for luck. He mimicked the gesture before running out to the field, where Otoya patted him on the back in greeting.

“Somebody save that poor, innocent boy,” your best friend said as the game began again.

“Hiori? From what?” you said.

“From being corrupted and turned into a bad-mannered asshole by Otoya,” she said.

“Fair enough,” you said before your jaw dropped as Reo Mikage perfectly mimicked Aiku’s signature defensive move, stopping Shidou from scoring yet again. “Woah. Reo’s rich and a soccer genius? I thought you were full of bullshit earlier, but you actually might be onto something.”

“Exactly,” your best friend said with a smitten sigh. “What a man.”

Despite Reo’s prowess and the goalie’s unorthodox methods, they were ultimately unable to stop Shidou from making that second goal. As the U-20 boys celebrated and the referee called for the ball to be retrieved, Blue Lock’s number 11, Isagi, stomped over to the sideline where their coach was sitting.

“They look like they’re arguing,” Chigiri said. “Do you think everything is alright?”

You weren’t sure when or how you had become the designated soccer expert, but for some reason, both Chigiri and your best friend looked at you expectantly, like you knew what the hell Isagi was pressed about. 

“Maybe he’s mad about his cooler?” you said.

“Huh?” your best friend said.

“Never mind,” you said. “Uh, if I had to guess, he’s probably either asking the coach to give them a new strategy or calling for their substitute to be put in. Shidou and Sae have backed them into a corner, and if they don’t switch things up soon, they’re going to lose.”

“Looks like Karasu and Hiori taught you more than you realized,” your best friend said as Isagi jogged back to the field and the referee whistled to call for a pause to the game. One of the benched Blue Lock members, their number 13, stood up, and you actually shivered when he did. He made every single other player look like a gentle kitten in comparison to his hulking presence, even those towering monsters like Shidou and Aiku. There was no doubt about it; this was a beast amongst men, his fangs bared as he stormed onto the field, and the only thing you could not understand was why he had not been playing from the start.

“That guy is scary,” you said.

“Scary hot,” my best friend said.

“Moving on from Reo already?” you said. “This is why you’ll never have a boyfriend. Too fickle.”

“Listen, I have to keep my options open! Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone who’s good-looking, talented, and has been obsessed with them for years,” she said, elbowing you in the side with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, though you could not help but look down at Tabito when she said that. “What if I get rejected by Reo? I need to have another option, or else I’m fresh out of luck.”

“Looks like he’s replacing Otoya,” you said. “What’s his name? Barou? I’m interested to see how he does.”

“He’s getting rid of that wannabe bog monster? Even better! He’s quickly shooting up in my rankings,” my best friend said.

“Wannabe — okay, I’ll just be happy for you,” you said. “Though his hair isn’t so green as to deserve this much slander…”

“Thanks,” she said, ignoring the rest of what you had said.

“I hope they can make a comeback,” Chigiri stressed. “It’ll crush Hyoma if they lose.”

“No matter what happens now, he should be proud of how he did in the match,” you said. “Pass that message along when you see him, please. There’s no way he’s not going to get scouted by some seriously great clubs in the future.”

“You’re really kind,” Chigiri said, leaning her head on your shoulder with a sniffle. “I hope that Hyoma and your boyfriend stay on the same team for a while. Watching games is so much more fun with you.”

“Thanks! You as well. But speaking of being on the same team…” You whipped out your phone during the lull of the match, pulling up Yukimiya’s girlfriend’s contact and typing out a quick text.

‘are you watching the game??’

She responded almost immediately. ‘i convinced my parents to let me skip school so i could lol. i’m so stressed out right now!! karasu is playing super well btw.’

‘so is yukimiya!!’

‘thx!! omg also i saw you and your best friend on the screen HAHA.’

The last text was startling, to say the least. Nudging your best friend, you showed her the message, after which she took out her own phone, flipped on the camera, and checked her appearance in it.

‘no way. when??’

‘YES it was right after nagi scored in the first half. you two + the redhead were the ones who started the cheering, so they focused on you guys at first!! dw you all looked rlly pretty. as usual <3’

‘ohhh that makes sense. and tyyyy but you’re the pretty one here!!’

‘STOP you are the sweetest. also look at this LMAO they’re already making edits of you guys!!’

‘WHAT?!?!?!’

She sent you a link, which you opened with trepidation, beckoning Chigiri and your best friend over. Turning up the volume, you held up your phone as an edit of the three of you at various points in the match began to play. You were equally impressed and horrified at the speed with which the editors had gotten to work, but you couldn’t even be upset — whether it was the song or the clips they had chosen, the video made you all look magnificent. You saved it to your folder and then put your phone away, vowing to go through the comments later.

Mere minutes after you all tuned back into the flow of the game, Barou somehow pulled off a near-miraculous sliding shot, slamming the ball into the goal and once again tying back the score. This time, nobody was uncertain about what to do; every single person was on their feet, whooping as Barou tore off his jersey and tossed it in the air, flexing his arms and raising his chin as Tabito wrapped an arm around his neck, Nagi jumped on his back, and Isagi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Wow,” your best friend said.

“Wow is right! That was an incredible play. Barou is in another realm entirely!” you said, your palms stinging from how hard you were slapping them together. Your rudimentary soccer knowledge was apparently sufficient enough for you to keep up with the game, though just barely.

“Oh, I don’t know enough about soccer to be in awe of his goal,” she said. “I’m talking about those wow muscles of his. I bet he could carry me with one arm…”

“Ew, nasty,” you said, smacking her, fully aware of where her thoughts had just gone.

“Come on, you know it’s true!” she protested.

“I have a boyfriend. I’m not allowed to answer that,” you said.

“But you’re allowed to say that Otoya is good-looking?” she said.

“That was just me being nice!” you said. 

“I sense favoritism,” she said. “And not even the good kind, because for some reason, you’re favoring the worst guy in the bunch! Since Karasu isn’t around to be disappointed in you, I’ll do it on his behalf.”

“Shut up,” you said half-heartedly. “I liked you better when you were in love with Reo.”

“Believe me, I still am,” she said. “He’s not the kind of person you get over easily.”

“Ah, and remind me of how many times you’ve spoken to him?”

“That’s not the point!”

The match was decided when Sae and Rin — who were supposedly brothers, according to the guys Chigiri had overheard while she was heading to the trash can — got into a fight for dominance over the ball. Somehow, it managed to end up in exactly the spot where Isagi was waiting, and without taking a moment to think, he drew his leg back. At the very last second of the game’s overtime, he sent it streaking into the net.

“They did it!” Chigiri shrieked, tackling you and your best friend in a hug. 

“They did!” you shrieked back, equally as overwhelmed. 

“I can’t believe it!” your best friend said. “They really pulled it off!”

With that one-goal lead, Blue Lock had managed it. They had won the game against the U-20s, thereby cementing their place in the world of soccer for good. Those whispered hopes that Tabito had shared with you, his dreams of being an athlete and playing the sport he loved…they were as you had always assured him: inevitabilities instead of impossibilities. 

After all, you would say to him, over and over until you were sure he believed you. Do you think I would spend so long hating someone if they were mediocre? You can do whatever you turn your mind to. Whether it’s winning a soccer game or managing a company or getting the girl you like, your success is a guarantee.

The Blue Lock boys were ushered back to their facility after the game, so you didn’t get a chance to congratulate Tabito, but even being able to wave at him had lifted your spirits immensely, so you didn’t feel like you had wasted the trip.

In fact, you had a new pastime to occupy yourself with: namely, watching edits of yourself and liking all of the comments hyping you up. There were many of both, and when you weren’t listening to your best friend rambling about her favorite Blue Lock boy of the hour — Barou and Reo were definitely the ones she brought up the most, but Nagi and Isagi were mentioned a fair bit, too — you spent your hours on social media, sending the best edits to the group chat that you and your best friend had created with Yukimiya’s girlfriend and the elder Chigiri.

A couple of days after the game, you and your best friend were lounging in her aunt’s living room when you got a call from a number you had not seen on your phone in ages. Springing to your feet, you answered it immediately.

“Tabito? I thought they took your phone in Blue Lock?” you said.

“Hi, Y/N. Yes, they did, but we just got our stuff back and are on the buses back to the city. We’re on break for the next two weeks! Are you still in Tokyo?” he said.

“Yes! I’m here for about that amount of time — for all of winter break,” you said.

“Perfect. Some of the guys have plans to meet up in Shibuya tomorrow, but I don’t mind canceling—”

“Wait,” you cut him off, an idea formulating in your mind. “Are Barou, Nagi, Isagi, and Reo Mikage included when you say ‘some of the guys?’”

“Uh, I think Reo’s going to be there, but not any of the others. Why?” he said quizzically. Your best friend gave you a puzzled look, obviously wondering why you had just listed off her top Blue Lock crushes while on the phone with your boyfriend.

“Is it okay if we come, too?” you said. Tabito hummed uncertainly.

“Er, I don’t know…it’s not that I don’t want you to or that they’d mind or anything! In fact, they’d probably be delighted if you showed up. Rather, it’s that a few of them are a little bit odd, and you’d probably not enjoy yourself very much if you came,” he said.

“On the contrary, I think we would enjoy ourselves a great deal. Some of us more than others, naturally, but as long as you’re there, I’ll have fun, and as for my plus one…let’s just say that she could probably listen to a speech about the drying of cement, as long as it was Reo giving it,” you said.

“I see what’s happening here,” he said with a snort. “Okay, I got it. I’ll ask them and let you know what they say, alright?”

“If they say no, then tell them you can’t go and come hang out with me,” you instructed him. “I want to be with you tomorrow. I’ve missed you for far too long.”

“Will do. I miss you more.”

The line went abruptly dead, ostensibly from a lack of signal on his part, but now that you knew you were going to see him the next day either way, you just tossed the useless device aside and grinned devilishly at your best friend.

“What was that all about?” she said.

“Just go ahead and tell me you love me,” you said.

“I love you?” she said.

“And I love you,” you said. “So much that I’m making my boyfriend take us along on his group date with his soccer group — where none other than the man himself, Reo Mikage, will be present.”

About an hour or so later, Tabito texted you in the affirmative, sending you the address of the cafe where they were planning on meeting up at and giving you a rough estimate of the time they’d all be there. You and your best friend stayed up late that night, picking out your outfits — well, mostly hers, you were at the point in your relationship where you were positive that Tabito would find you pretty even in a trash bag, so you weren’t anywhere near worried about your own clothing — and planning what she’d say to sweep Reo off of his feet. Once you were done with that, you got in your pajamas and watched romantic comedies to get yourselves in ‘the zone’ and be completely prepared for the day to come, which might have qualified as one of the most important in her life. 

You were the first ones at the cafe the next morning, so you took the liberty of choosing the largest table you could find and setting your things down before looking up their menu online. Your best friend, who was the one that had convinced you to be so obsessively punctual for fear of making a bad first impression on Reo, did the same, though she left two seats in between you and herself.

“Tell Karasu to sit next to you, and then have him get Reo to sit in between himself and me,” she said to you.

“Yup, I know the plan,” you said.

“Good,” she said. “Have you picked what you’re ordering? Since no one else is here yet, I can go in and grab stuff for both of us.”

“Yeah, I want this, and this,” you said, pointing at the exact menu items so that there was no room for misinterpretation.

“Mm, looks good,” she said. “Eek, I think there’s a line.”

“It’s peak brunch time,” you said. “We’re lucky to have gotten a table at all, let alone one so big. Just leave your sweater on your chair so no one else takes it. Unless you want me to go in instead?”

“Nope, I don’t want to look like a friendless loser if Reo gets here before you come back or the others show up,” she said.

“You should hurry up and join the queue before it gets any worse, then,” you said. “It would suck if you were stuck waiting and Reo left before you could even meet him.”

“I’m going!” she said, speeding into the cafe, the glass door clanging shut behind her. You laughed softly at how easy she was to rile up, resting your chin in your hands and regarding the bustling scenery of the street with adoration. Tokyo was different from home, but you didn’t mind the change. It was fun, anyways, coming up with backstories for the people who walked past, inquiring into their lives from the snippets you were shown with the curiosity of a squirrel.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” a light, playful voice said, distracting you from your thoughts. The speaker was a boy in a dark jacket, with headphones slung around his neck and a beanie pulled low over his hair, though a few stubborn strands poked out anyways — grayish-white strands, in specific, which were cut through by brilliant green. You swore under your breath. How had you not realized that he would be here as well? You could only hope that Reo would distract your best friend well enough that she would not flip out over Otoya’s presence

“You’re Otoya, right?” you said. At the mention of his name, he grinned and slid into the seat designated for Tabito, leaning his elbow on the table and batting his eyelashes at you.

“That’s me. How did you know? I’m certain we’ve not met before, because I’d remember a lady as pretty as yourself,” he said. 

“You played in the match against the U-20s,” you said.

“You watched that?” he said. “I was pretty great, wasn’t I?”

“I don’t seem to remember you ever scoring,” you said thoughtfully. “And weren’t you subbed out? Ah, but yes, I was actually in the audience that day.”

Otoya wilted. “Oh. Were you rooting for the U-20s?”

“No, I was on Blue Lock’s side,” you said.

“Hold on, are you one of the guy’s sisters?” he said, stroking his chin and inspecting you. “Probably not Chigiri’s, but maybe Barou’s? I think he mentioned having younger sisters at one point. But I hope not, he’d definitely kill me for talking to you. Speaking of which, what are you even doing around here? Wanna go somewhere a bit nicer together?”

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” you said.

“Boyfriend?” Otoya said, face growing unnaturally pale. He inched his chair away from you. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

Before you could respond, a hand covered your eyes, blacking out your vision. “Guess who?”

“Tabito!” you said, standing up, yanking his hand away from you and kicking your chair out of the way so you could hug him. He was already waiting for you, pulling you to his chest immediately, burying his nose in your hair as he did when he was particularly tense or had been missing you.

“That’s correct. Gold star for Y/N,” he said. 

Though it had been a while, now that you were back in his embrace, it felt like no time at all had passed. That was how it was between you and him, a product of the many years you both had known one another before ever dating. Tabito was as much your friend as he was your boyfriend, a confidante and a rival and a companion and a lover all wrapped into one package. There could not be secrets nor distance between the two of you, not when you both had been studying one another’s complexities since before you had even understood what it meant to pay such special attention to another person.

“Sit next to me,” you said, tugging on his coat.

“Sure thing,” he said. “Dude, move over.”

Otoya scrambled to his feet, taking the seat on Tabito’s other side and eyeing you warily, his cheeks flushed a light pink — no doubt due to that brand of humiliation which was borne from trying to get with one’s friend’s girlfriend.

“You’re Y/N?” he said.

“That’s me. Has Tabito mentioned my name or something?” you said. When he realized you weren’t going to rat him out, Otoya relaxed and pretended to gag.

“All of the time. I thought you were his celebrity crush or idol, the way he talked about you! I couldn’t believe you were real when he waved at you during the game. You were sitting a bit too far away for me to get a good look at you, but you waved back, so I had no choice but to believe him,” he said. You recognized that this was his attempt at an apology, and, finding no merit in anything but acceptance, you shrugged.

“I wasn’t that crazy,” Tabito said.

“I don’t know. Otoya doesn’t seem like the lying type,” you said. Otoya let out a sigh of relief, catching your eye and mouthing thank you when Tabito gave you an irritated look.

“He totally is! Don’t believe a word out of this asshole’s mouth, he’s full of shit!” he said.

“So that must be why you’re friends, then?” you said. Otoya let out a choked laugh, and Tabito gave you such a kicked-puppy look that you could not help but lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Just joking. Who else is coming?”

“Well, you already know about Reo, but besides him, Tokimitsu said he’d come, Aryu, and Yuki,” Tabito said, counting off each name on his fingers.

“Yuki? Like Yukimiya? You two are friends now?” you said, already planning double dates with Yukimiya and his girlfriend in your head.

“We were in Blue Lock together. That kind of experience can bond anyone,” Tabito said.

“This guy really hated Yuki at first, though,” Otoya said, jabbing his thumb towards Tabito, who scowled. “So fucking funny. Yuki would just be standing there, and he’d go crazy, talking about how ‘one centimeter isn’t a big deal’ and how Yuki was ‘just an average, mediocre guy.’”

“You can stop talking now,” Tabito said.

“But all’s well that ends well, right? Now Yuki and Karasu are great pals. He never did explain what his problem was at the start, however. I’ve always wondered,” Otoya said, in a tone that clearly suggested he was fishing for an elaboration from you. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling on me! And to my girlfriend of all people!” Tabito said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why does Tabito not like Yuki? It’s a funny story, really,” you began.

“One we do not need to go over,” Tabito said. Now that the misunderstanding was well beyond cleared up, that fight right before you two had gotten together was a point of great embarrassment for Tabito, who still could not quite believe that he had behaved so irrationally.

“What don’t we need to go over?” It was another newcomer, but one who you knew — Yukimiya himself, who beamed when he saw you. “Oh, Y/N! Karasu mentioned you were going to be here, but to be quite frank with you, I sort of forgot. How have you been?”

“Can’t complain. What about you?” you said. “Great job in the game against the U-20s, by the way.”

“Thanks!” he said, sitting down across from you. “I’m in the same boat. It’s nice to be on a break. I actually slept in for the first time in forever, and I got to use my own skin products instead of the crap Blue Lock gave us.”

“I’m happy for you,” you said. “You all deserve a break. It’s obvious you’ve been working really hard.”

“Pardon, madam!” You hardly had the time to react before a spindly man with flowing black hair and dark, painted fingernails was crouching beside you. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I just — I have to acknowledge glam when it’s so obviously in front of me.”

“What?” you said.

“Here he goes,” Otoya said, steepling his fingers in anticipation.

“It’s just…I was aware that Karasu was bringing his girlfriend and her best friend to this little meeting of ours, but I didn’t know that one of you would turn out to be the most glam individual I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in ages! Please, tell me you’re the best friend,” he said.

“She’s the girlfriend, Aryu, so leave her alone,” Tabito said. Aryu pressed the back of his hand against his forehead.

“In another life, my dear,” he said, fluttering his fingers at you.

“No?” Tabito said. “In no other life! She’s mine in every one, so piss off!”

“Uh, thanks for the compliment. It’s nice to meet you, Aryu,” you said awkwardly. Otoya and Yukimiya did nothing to dissipate the tension, both of them exchanging looks and giggling.

“Sorry about him,” a stocky boy with huge, panicked eyes said, taking the chair beside where Aryu was still muttering to himself about a ‘grand love affair’ that would ‘shock the world with its glam potential.’ “You’re the girl from the edits, aren’t you? Y/N L/N? I’m Tokimitsu.”

“How do you know her full, official, government name?” Tabito said, arching his eyebrows. Tokimitsu shook his head so rapidly you thought his neck might snap or something from the speed of it.

“No, no, it’s not like that, Karasu! She’s just famous at the moment!” he said.

Tabito’s eyes flicked towards you for confirmation. You rubbed the back of your neck, beginning to explain for the benefit of the entire table.

“Right when Nagi scored, the three of us — my best friend, Chigiri, and I — were the only ones cheering, so the cameras focused on us,” you said. “After that, they would periodically show us throughout the match, and people have been making edits of those clips. At first, we were just the unnamed Blue Lock fans, but I think I liked one too many comments calling me hot, because now everyone knows who we all are…”

“Some of the edits are really good,” Tokimitsu agreed. “They’re all over my dashboard. People have even started shipping you guys with the players! Right now, the most popular pairings are you with Karasu—”

“Good,” Tabito said, sticking his nose in the air. You pinched him on the bicep, finding his uncharacteristic possessiveness as endearing as it was unnecessary.

“—and your best friend with Otoya,” Tokimitsu continued.

“Huh?” Otoya said.

“The clip of her giving you the middle finger right before halftime is super popular,” Tokimitsu said. “People have actually taken screenshots and made matching profile pictures. It’s a whole movement.”

“Huh?” Otoya said. “How am I supposed to flirt with girls if everyone thinks I’m taken by some psycho who hates me for no reason? Where can I file a complaint? This needs to be stopped at once!”

“It’s not for no reason, exactly,” you said.

“There’s a legitimate explanation?” Tabito said.

“Legitimate is a stretch, but there is an explanation,” you said. “You know her. She wouldn’t hate someone without having at least some kind of logic to it.”

A shiny black limousine pulled up in front of the cafe, and the back doors opened to reveal Reo Mikage, who stepped out and thanked the driver before walking over to join the rest of you. You were about to tell him to take the seat in between Tabito and your best friend, but then you realized that there was a massive problem: somebody was already sitting there. Namely, Otoya, who was busily swiping through his phone and reporting every account that he came across which had either him or your best friend as a profile picture.

“My apologies for the tardiness,” Reo said. His mere voice had a particular cadence to it that spoke to his wealth and upbringing, and down to the slightest, his mannerisms were genteel and refined. “I had to sneak out from a meeting to come here.”

“Sneaking out from a meeting to come to another meeting? You’re a busy guy, Reo!” Aryu said, evidently completely over his earlier heartbreak. “What a glam schedule.”

“That’s not the word I’d use for it,” Reo said, running a hand through his hair, which fell loosely around his face now that he wasn’t playing soccer. “Anyways, I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting for too long.”

“No, we haven’t gotten started yet,” Tabito said.

“We’ve been discussing the edits people made of Y/N and her friends!” Tokimitsu said. Reo looked over at you and smiled politely.

“I’ve seen a few of them. It’s an impressive marketing strategy on the JFU’s part — by sprinkling in clips of you three, they managed to appeal to a broader audience. Now, people who ordinarily never would have watched the game are watching reruns, therefore increasing their revenue tenfold,” he said, offering you his hand to shake. “I’m Reo Mikage.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said, taking it as professionally as you could, all the while wondering what was holding your best friend up. She ought to be here as soon as possible, or else she really might lose her chance. 

Like she had read your mind, the glass door of the cafe swung open, and your best friend strolled out, two plastic cups balanced in one hand and two scones in a napkin held in the other. 

“Sorry I took so long,” she said, thankfully oblivious to the members of the meeting you were crashing. “The barista got confused and made my drink iced. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, but she insisted on dumping it and remaking it properly, free of charge. Apparently, she’s new or something, so she’s still in that phase where she isn’t entirely jaded by the public yet.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Tabito. Grab my drink before she—!”

“You!” your best friend said, pointing at Otoya, who groaned in defeat and buried his face in his hands. Your drink slipped from her hands and clattered to the ground, spilling out onto the concrete, though she took no notice of it, putting the rest of the goods on the table and glaring at Otoya.

“My drink,” you said mournfully.

“I’ll go get you a new one,” Tabito said, making like he was going to stand. You grabbed onto his arm and shook your head.

“No, don’t leave me here,” you said.

“What? Why not?” he said. You pointed at the infamous duo, both of whom looked about ready to blow up, and then you looped your arms around his neck, peeking over his shoulder at the pair.

“If they get in a fight, I’ll be stuck in the crossfire,” you said. “You have to stay here and defend me if it comes to that. Quick, take the scones while she’s distracted. I’m going to eat them as payback for her dropping my drink.”

He did as you commanded. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“You owe me ten dollars!” your best friend said.

“What? No, I don’t. We’ve never even met, so why would I owe you any money at all?” Otoya said. “Wait. We haven’t met, right? Or did we go on a date at some point? If so, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, but you have to understand that things just end up like that sometimes. I’m not going to compensate you for that.”

“Jeez, Otoya,” Yukimiya said with a chuckle. “You’re kind of horrible, man. How many dates have you been on, if you don’t even remember whether you were with her at some point?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” Otoya said. Yukimiya made a face.

“You were definitely on a date,” your best friend said. “I wasn’t, though. In fact, I was just innocently trying to watch a movie with my cousins, when somebody decided that they would just go ahead and make out with their date, right in front of my face, for the entire one hour and forty-seven minutes of the film!”

“Who’s somebody?” Tokimitsu whispered.

“Probably Otoya,” Aryu whispered back.

“Oh, I do remember you!” Otoya said, snapping his fingers. “You came and yelled at me after the movie, too, right? That was funny.”

“Okay, guys, how about we all relax and get to the point of this meeting instead of squabbling over past grievances?” Reo interrupted before the argument could grow anymore heated. Satisfied that things were now under control, you ceased your cowering behind Tabito, though you did make sure to shove the last of the scones in your mouth before your best friend could ask where they had disappeared to.

“Fine by me,” Otoya said when your best friend did not respond. “Yo, you gonna sit down or what?”

“You guys can have your meeting without us, since I’m quite sure it’s not anything that we’ll be able to meaningfully contribute to. In the meantime, she and I will go and get a replacement drink for me,” you said.

As soon as the two of you were inside and out of earshot of the boys, she let out a wail. “I completely made an awful first impression on Reo Mikage!”

“I can’t lie, you definitely did,” you said. “But at least it was entertaining for the rest of us. Cheer up! There’s still Barou, Nagi, and Isagi, right? You have an entire list for a reason. Reo might be a wash, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up entirely.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. If only that lettuce-headed Otoya weren’t here! Things would’ve gone perfectly, but ruining my life must be a particular hobby of his,” she said.

“You might be better off if you pretend he’s not around,” you said. “How about this? We’ll get Tabito to set you up on a date with one of the others on your roster, and I’ll personally ensure that Otoya stays far, far away.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Here, I’ll pay for your drink, since I spilled it the first time.”

“Yeah, I was going to make you do that even if you didn’t offer.”

Upon your return outside, drinks and additional scones in hand, you were met with a larger group than you had left. Even more of the Blue Lock boys had appeared, and all of them were talking animatedly with one another.

“You’re Hyoma!” you said, taking a sip from your still-hot beverage, waving at your new friend’s little brother. “I sat with your sister at the game.”

“She’s mentioned you a couple of times. Said you thought I did well in the game,” Chigiri said, scratching the bridge of his nose shyly. “I really appreciate it. You’re Karasu’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes! Thank you for knowing that!” Tabito said, snatching your drink from you and taking a swig, bursting into a coughing fit as it scalded his throat.

“That’s what you get,” you said, taking your drink back, blowing on it to cool it before taking the tiniest sip. “Alright, I know Isagi and Chigiri, but who’s the third one?”

“That’s Bachira,” Tabito said. “He’s a fascinating guy.”

“You know what we should do? Since all of us are together for the first time outside of Blue Lock, we should hang out!” Bachira said, rocking on his heels. 

“That’s good with me. Our meeting ended up not being that productive,” Yukimiya said.

“Mostly due to certain individuals,” Reo agreed, looking pointedly at Otoya.

“Me? Blame her!” Otoya said, pointing at your best friend, who was busy exchanging hair care tips with Aryu instead of putting the moves on Isagi, as you thought she might’ve. 

“Reo’s too much of a glam gentleman to blame a lady for anything,” Aryu said.

“What he said,” Reo agreed. “Though, again, I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“Where should we go?” Tokimitsu said. “I’m okay with anything.”

“Wait, what about Nagi? Isn’t he with you guys?” Reo said to Isagi, who hummed.

“He was supposed to meet up with us, but he overslept, and then he saw an arcade on the way, so he stopped in there,” Isagi said.

“Reo, I bet you have Nagi’s location on your phone at all times, right?” Bachira said. Reo nodded. “Then I say we use that to go and find him!”

“An arcade day does sound like a blast,” Yukimiya said.

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to stay back and spend the day with Y/N,” Tabito said.

“She can come, too!” Bachira said. “On one condition: she has to be my partner for rhyming ping-pong.”

“That’s a fair deal in my books,” you said. Ordinarily, you would have agreed with Tabito — a calm date with him was far more appealing than the prospect of going to an arcade with a bunch of soccer players — but above all else, you were a loyal friend, and you could hardly abandon your best friend when Reo, Nagi, and Isagi would all be present at this gathering.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to feel bad for me. I don’t mind missing out on hanging with these idiots. I see enough of them in Blue Lock as it is,” Tabito said.

“I’m offended,” Otoya said dryly. “What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Considering she’s his girlfriend and he’s liked her for going on six years now, I’d say she’s probably a bit more than a ‘hoe,’” Yukimiya said.

“I don’t feel bad for you, Tabito, so you can put that out of your mind. I haven’t gone to an arcade or played rhyming ping-pong in ages. It’ll be fun, I think,” you said, kicking him under the table and angling your chin towards Reo and Isagi ever-so-slightly. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization.

“Then I guess we’re off to the arcade,” he said. “Lead the way, Reo.”

“Follow me,” Reo said, holding up his phone, which displayed the elusive Nagi’s location on the screen.

You all must’ve appeared an odd group to any onlookers, but that didn’t stop any of you from enjoying yourselves as you weaved through the streets of Shibuya. You walked with Tabito, your hand intertwined with his like usual, both of you pointing out window displays you found appealing or ridiculous. Chigiri and Bachira hotly debated which arcade games were the best, Isagi doing his best to mediate while Otoya egged both of them on in turn. Reo and Yukimiya continued their discussion on the economics of Blue Lock from the earlier meeting, and Aryu described every single step he took in the shower to your best friend and Tokimitsu, both of whom were enthralled by the topic. All in all, it was a blend which should not have worked but somehow did, and more than simply working, it really excelled.

“There you are, pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” Tabito cackled as everyone entered the arcade and saw Nagi sitting at one of the booths, controls in his hands and a small frown on his face as he gunned down his virtual enemies. Letting go of you, Tabito wrestled Nagi into a headlock, messing with his hair as Nagi whined in protest. “You’re going to lose all of your friends, you jerk!”

“Caught red-handed,” Reo said with a sigh. “Classic Nagi.”

“Now that we’ve found him, it’s time to party!” Bachira said, pumping his fist in the air. “Tokimitsu, let’s go play darts!”

“Okay!” Tokimitsu said.

“I’m heading over to the claw machine,” your best friend said. “Wanna come, Y/N?”

“Sure, I’ll cheer you on,” you said. “I’m pretty bad at it myself, so I won’t waste my money on my own attempts.”

Everyone dispersed throughout the arcade. Tabito, Otoya, and Aryu followed you and your best friend towards the claw machine, much to your best friend’s disgust — you were certain that she had been hoping Isagi, Nagi, or Reo would come with you, but all three of them were preoccupied with the darts competition Bachira had set up, leaving her to side-eye Otoya and stick to conversing only with Aryu. For his part, Aryu was happy to oblige her, as sticking close to your best friend had the double effect of cooling Tabito’s ire from earlier as well as alleviating the hostility between her and Otoya.

“This has got to be rigged!” your best friend said when her third attempt at trying to nab a panda plushie proved unsuccessful. On each attempt, right before she was able to drop the plushie into the chute, the claw would give out and it would fall back into the pile, leaving her out of money and patience.

“Move out of the way,” Otoya said. “Let me show you how the masters get it done.”

“You call yourself a claw-machine master?” you said. “What, do you practice or something?”

Otoya entered a token into the machine and shouldered past your fuming best friend, grabbing the controls with casual ease. “Girls love it when you win stuffed animals for them. Check out my flow!”

“I never put you down as someone with this type of functional glam,” Aryu said, pressing his face against the glass of the machine. “I sincerely repent for the underestimation!”

“You really are a master,” you breathed, doing the same, watching in astonishment as Otoya expertly maneuvered the plushie towards the chute.

“Stop shaking the machine, idiots, you’ll make him mess up,” Tabito said, pulling you and Aryu away from the glass by the back of your collars and holding you there until Otoya had retrieved his prize.

“Bam,” Otoya said, tossing the panda at your best friend. “Ninja skills.”

It hit her in the face and fell to the ground; with a withering glare, she stooped over and tucked it under her arm before stomping away.

“You better not find yourself anywhere near the dartboards! I’m warning you, I have a bad aim, so look out!” she threatened before disappearing, presumably to join in on Bachira’s tournament.

“Isn’t that just a self-insult?” Otoya said. “Sucking at darts is even worse than sucking at the claw machine, don’t you think?”

“She means she’ll hit you with the dart and you can’t blame her for it because she warned you, you dunce,” Tabito said, face-palming. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go see how the tournament’s going.”

The tournament seemed to have split into two sections. On the right side, Reo, Tokimitsu, Yukimiya, and your best friend were tossing darts at the board with precision and care, tallying up their scores and congratulating one another after each round. On the left, Nagi was standing in front of the board with his arms spread and his back to Bachira, Isagi, and Chigiri, who were gleefully taking turns throwing darts in his direction, talking about how this was his ‘punishment’ for standing them up.

“Who’s winning?” you said, right as Bachira sent a dart shooting towards the back of Nagi’s head. Nagi exhaled heavily.

“Sorry,” he repeated for the thousandth time.

“Do you think it’s even possible for someone to win in a game like that?” Tabito said. “Better to ask those guys.”

“I think Yuki is up right now,” Reo said in response to your unasked question. “Although Tokimitsu’s catching up. It’s super close. Could be anyone’s game.”

“Now that you’re here, Y/N, let’s go play rhyming ping-pong!” Bachira said.

“Who will we play against, though?” you said.

“Nagi, for one,” Bachira said.

“I don’t want to,” Nagi said. Bachira raised another dart, causing Nagi’s sleepy frown to deepen. “Okay, I will.”

“Then Tabito can be your teammate,” you said. 

“You’re challenging me?” Tabito said. “You’re going to regret that. Prepare to lose.”

“Bachira and I won’t let you get even a point, right, Bachira?” you said. 

“That’s right!” Bachira said, high-fiving you and charging forwards as the entire group headed over to the ping-pong table. Picking out four paddles from the rack, he handed one each to you, Tabito, and Nagi, keeping the last for himself and joining you on your side of the table.

“If we beat you, then you have to take me to the aquarium for our next date!” you said, brandishing your paddle at Tabito.

“Fine, but if we beat you, then you have to join me during my workouts for the rest of the break!” he said, tossing the ball up and down in the air.

“We have to crush them,” you said to Bachira. “If I have to workout with him, I’ll probably die.”

“Got it,” Bachira said, rolling his shoulders. “Ready when you are.”

“Nagi, get your head in the game,” Tabito said to his reluctant partner. “We need to win this. The aquarium is so creepy and unromantic! What kind of first date back from Blue Lock would that be? I need your talents, prodigy.”

“Okay,” Nagi said. “Are we starting?”

“Yeah, you can serve. Do you know how to play?” Tabito said.

“Not really,” he said.

“Whenever you hit the ball, you have to say a word that the other team can rhyme to, and when they return the serve, they have to come up with that rhyme and say it,” Bachira said. “Pretty easy, right?”

“It’ll be a simple win,” you said. “I’m first in the class for Modern Literature, so I know a lot of words.”

“Don’t underestimate Nagi,” Reo said. “He may look like little more than a typical idiot slacker, but he actually came second in our year without studying at all.”

“I’m so torn,” your best friend said. “Who do I root for?”

“Why’s it a question? Wouldn’t you want to root for your best friend?” Chigiri said. 

“You wouldn’t get it,” she said.

“Hmph,” Chigiri said. “Whatever.”

“Okay, are both sides ready?” Yukimiya said. He had been chosen to referee, mostly because he was the most impartial. All of you nodded, and he whistled. “Rhyming ping-pong, begin! Your serve, Nagi!”

“Um,” Nagi said, tossing the ball in the air and tapping it with his paddle. “Orange?”

Yukimiya whistled again. “Out! Y/N and Bachira are the winners!”

“What was that?” Tabito screeched.

“He must’ve gotten nervous in the face of Bachira and I’s combined prowess,” you said, tossing your hair.

“Not really. I just didn’t wanna play,” Nagi said. “There’s some good aquariums in Tokyo, Karasu. You can probably have a fun date there.”

“You’re the worst,” Tabito said. “I’m taking Chigiri next time. I bet he wouldn’t have picked orange as his first word!”

“I would’ve gone with bat,” Chigiri said.

“Ooh, and then I would’ve said cat!” you said. Bachira had vanished alongside Isagi and Reo, giving some excuse about karaoke before running out the door after them, leaving you standing alone across from the furious Tabito and lethargic Nagi.

“Maybe we should’ve teamed up,” Chigiri said to you. You winked and gave him a thumbs-up in assent.

“Can we go see what Reo and the others are doing?” Nagi said, limp in another one of Tabito’s headlocks, completely unbothered by the vulnerable position that he was being held in. 

“Bachira said they were going for karaoke,” you said. “Maybe we should find Otoya and Aryu before joining them, though.”

“How about just Aryu?” your best friend suggested, though her ideas went unheard.

“I’ll text them,” Yukimiya said.

“No need,” Otoya said, peeking his head into the door. “We’ve been looking for you guys for a while.”

“Such unglam conduct, disappearing like that,” Aryu said in disappointment.

“Sorry!” Tokimitsu yelped. 

“Since we’re all here now, we should be good to head to karaoke,” Yukimiya said.

“Karasu and I are going to do a duet,” Otoya informed everyone as you all followed the signs for the karaoke section of the building.

“Hell yeah,” Tabito snickered. “We’ll knock everyone’s socks off. They’re not ready.”

“What song?” Tokimitsu said.

“Something with a lot of belting,” Otoya said. 

“Please don’t,” your best friend said. “I didn’t bring ear plugs, and I do value my hearing.”

“Wait a second,” you said. “Hey, Tabito, Yukimiya — isn’t that Aiku from the U-20 squad?”

“Huh?” Tabito said.

“It is!” Yukimiya said. “He’s talking to Reo, Isagi, and Bachira, too. That’s unexpected.”

“Looks like the whole gang’s here, in fact,” Tabito said, cracking his knuckles and motioning towards the rest of the U-20 squad, who were glowering at the boys beside you as they approached.

“A fight?” Nagi said.

“Could be,” Otoya said, striking a ninja-pose that caused your best friend to dissolve into a fit of laughter, which he ignored completely. “I’m stoked.”

“Need backup, Isagi?” Yukimiya said, his hands in his pockets and a genial smile on his face. “We’ve got you.”

“Ah, but don’t expect anything from me!” you said, flashing them all a peace sign. “I’ll cheer for you from the corner, though.”

“A girl? Hello—” Aiku began, though he was immediately interrupted by Tabito.

“Nope, don’t even think about it,” he said. 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aiku said. 

“What are you all doing here?” one of the U-20 boys, whose name you couldn’t recall, said.

“Likely the same thing as you,” Chigiri said.

“But in a more glam way, naturally,” Aryu added.

“The fuck? Don’t think I won’t mess you up, freak!” the U-20 player said.

“Freak?” Aryu said. “Say that again, I dare you!”

“How about we settle this over a game of bowling?” Aiku suggested. “That way, none of us get in trouble with our coaches for accidentally injuring ourselves.”

“Fine by us,” Yukimiya said. “We’ll beat you either way.”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to watch you all pummel each other,” you agreed.

“Same,” your best friend said. “Though I wouldn’t mind too much if you roughed Otoya up a bit…”

“Hey!” the boy in question said.

“The ladies have spoken,” Aiku said. “Bowling it is!”

“Are you going to play?” Tabito asked you as you all trekked towards the bowling alley. 

“Nah, this is a feud between Blue Lock and the U-20 players. I’m just an onlooker,” you said.

“Aw, but you’re the bowling champion! We’d win for sure if we had you on our side,” he said. Going bowling had been a common event for both of your friend groups all throughout high school, so he had been privy to many a round in which you absolutely annihilated everyone else, demolishing him and his friends and yours alike with a careful, needle-like precision.

“You’re not half-bad yourself. Plus, who knows how good the others are? It’ll be alright. Go beat those U-20 boys again, and then let’s get out of here,” you said.

“Just us? Or do you mean everyone?” he said.

“Just us,” you said. “I’ve been downright helpful all day, so no one can begrudge me for being a little bit selfish and sneaking off with you. I’ll only do it if you win, though.”

That was a lie, but Tabito was the type who performed better under pressure. The thought that he might miss out on a date with you — especially one not at the aquarium — would be more than enough to drive him to bowling success.

“Y/N!” your best friend hissed to you as Tabito and the others went to check in at the counter. “Check it out! It’s Shoei Barou!”

“He’s bowling all by himself? Huh, that’s a little startling. The more you know, I guess,” you said. Privately, you had believed the intimidating Barou would have had similarly intimidating habits, like powerlifting, or beating up thugs in alleyways, or activities more along those lines, but of course, everyone had layers, so maybe you shouldn’t have assumed.

“It’s kind of cute, if I’m being honest,” she said. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re a friendless loner! I need you so badly.”

“There’s a lid for every pot,” you said, not at all seeing the appeal in that kind of person but having decided long ago that you were more glad than anything that you and she didn’t have the same taste in men — you had likely avoided many awkward situations in that way. “Well, what’s your plan? You’ve got Reo, Barou, Nagi, and Isagi all in one room. Who’re you going to go for?” 

“Let’s weigh the pros and cons. That should help us come to a proper conclusion,” she said.

“Got it. Cons: Reo finds you super immature for fighting with Otoya, Nagi doesn’t seem to care about you one way or another, Isagi is much more interested in hanging out with Bachira and Chigiri than trying to talk to you, and you haven’t even met Barou yet,” you said. She gulped.

“And, uh, the pros?” she said. You frowned.

“Uh…at least Nagi’s opinion of you isn’t bad?” you said. “And you haven’t had the chance to make a terrible impression on Barou yet.”

“That’s it?” she said.

“Sorry,” you said. “But kind of. It’s not looking good.”

“What do I do, then?” she said. “Is it time for me to give up on my dreams? Am I destined to be single forever? Will the closest I get to a wedding be in the form of attending yours as a bridesmaid?”

“Don’t be pessimistic,” you said. “There’s always Aiku. He seems like he’d take anything on legs for a date or two.”

In unison, you glanced over at Aiku. He, and Otoya for that matter, were talking to a pair of girls, who were hooked on their every word, irises sparkling as they listened to both boys flirt. You and your best friend exchanged looks.

“I’d rather die alone,” she said. 

“That kind of relationship wouldn’t last,” you affirmed. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask Tabito if he can introduce you to Barou. He’s likely your best bet at this point.”

“You might be right about that,” she said, following after you as you made your way towards where the ones not actively bowling were hanging out.

This, unfortunately, was a fatal mistake. The route took you past Otoya and Aiku, and, more importantly, the girls they were chatting with. One of them happened to catch a glimpse of you both, and she immediately gasped, shoving past Otoya to tap the two of you on our shoulders.

“You’re the girls from the edits!” she said. You winced at the murderous expressions on Aiku’s and Otoya’s faces.

“Yeah, we are,” you said.

“No way!” the other girl said to your best friend. “You and your boyfriend are my sister and her boyfriend’s profile pictures!”

“Boyfriend?” your best friend said. “I’m single, though?”

“The guy you gave the middle finger to at the Blue Lock vs U-20 match! Aren’t you two dating?” she said.

“No!” your best friend and Otoya said at the same time.

“Wait, I didn’t recognize you because of the hat, but you’re the confused player that she flipped off!” the girl said to Otoya. “Can we get a picture of the two of you together? We’re guaranteed to go viral if we can post something like that!”

“Oh, boy,” you said. “Aiku, you seem like a nice guy, so I’m going to advise you to run right about now.”

“What?” he said. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” you said, darting off before you were caught up in the fallout that would accompany the request, not slowing your pace until you were safely over by Tabito and the rest, far away from the brewing situation.

“I think we’re going to do it!” Tabito said when he saw that you were once again at his side. “As long as Nagi is more motivated to bowl than he was to play rhyming ping-pong.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, that’s great,” you said. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” he said.

“Right now,” you said.

“Did something happen?” he said.

“This bowling alley is about to turn into a war zone,” you said, gesturing over to where Otoya and your best friend were standing stiffly beside one another, the girl angling her phone to take as many photos of them as possible.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “See you guys later!”

“What? You’re already leaving?” Chigiri said.

“Yup, it was great to meet you all! Good luck in Blue Lock. Hope to see you again!” you said, sprinting towards the doors with Tabito, ducking out right as your best friend went off on a tirade about how Otoya needed to stay a ‘minimum of two bodies’ away from her at all times lest he ‘infect her with the green hair disease.’ “Phew.”

“We made it,” Tabito said. “Now what?”

“Now we do whatever we want,” you said, reaching up and kissing him softly. “No more worrying about everyone else. Let’s do something for just the two of us.”

“Finally,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you left the arcade behind. “I’ve been missing you for so long, and when I finally got you back, I had to share you with all of my dumbass teammates. Not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It’s like Otoya said — bros before hoes.”

“Otoya’s a jackass,” he said. 

“True,” you said. “But enough about him. I want to hear about everything you did in Blue Lock, so that when you have to go back, I can imagine what you might be up to at any given moment and feel a little better.”

“Gross,” he said.

“You act as though you hate it, but I knew deep down you like it,” you said. He wrinkled his nose, though it did little to hide his prominent blush.

“Nah,” he said, drawing you impossibly closer to his side, as much to be affectionate as to prevent you from further exposure to the redness of his face. “I just like you.”

“Oh?” you said. “That’s good, because I like you, too.”

“I already knew that,” he said.

“Never mind,” you said. “If that’s the case, then I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. You smiled, playing with his fingers as the two of you walked around the city with no destination in mind, no end goal but to enjoy each other’s company.

“No, I don’t.”

[truetogaia]

RAWRRRR THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING DBF!JAKE OOPS

pairing: dbf!dom!jake x fem!na'vi!reader

genre: smut, 18+

warnings: age gap (reader is 19, jake is whatever age yall want LMAO), p in v, slight choking, someone almost walking in on 'em. DADS BEST FRIEND!, tit play

word count: 500 :)

His hair tickled the skin of your tummy as his face was pressed into your soft chest, his hot tongue licking hungry stripes up your swollen breasts, occasionally swiping over your nipples. Your legs were wrapped around his torso as you ran your hands through his silky hair, tugging on it from time to time in sync with his rough thrusts. Your soft mewls and moans grew in volume and you felt Jake’s large hand snake up your chest, before he rested it loosely around your neck.

“Shh, keep it down sweetheart..” His hot breath fanned over your collarbone as he pumped his cock into your tight heat. “You’ve gotta keep quiet, babygirl. Don’t want your dad to hear, right?” He teased, sinking his sharp canines into the plush of your breast, groaning against it as your cunt squeezed him. “Such pretty tits..” 

The sound of approaching footsteps made you snap your head up, desperately checking whether or not you had secured the entrance to your part of the hut. Jake didn’t seem to care though, despite the fact that a thin drape was the only thing keeping your dad from revealing the secret that had been going on between his daughter and his best friend for so long. Instead, Jake put a finger over his lips, gesturing for you to keep quiet as he increased the tempo of his rough thrusts. You almost forgot about the person standing outside the entrance, before a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“y/n? You okay in there?” Your dads voice came from just outside the room, worry present in his tone. Jake retreated from your neck, placing both of his calloused hands on your soft tits, squeezing them and toying with your hard nipples as he pounded your cunt. Your voice was breathy and you stumbled over your words, interrupted by involuntary moans.

“‘m.. I'm fine da- hmn! I’m okay dad!” You managed, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any further unwanted noises. It felt wrong, so lewd and vulgar, but the way Jake’s cock filled your needy cunt so deliciously had your mind in a haze, and your sense of judgment was thrown out the window. As soon as your ears picked up the sound of him walking away, you fell limp into Jake’s strong embrace. 

“Atta girl.." He cooed, grabbing your hips with his large hands and laying you down on your back. His cock was still buried deep inside your soaked cunt, and you begged him silently to start moving again. “I don’t think he noticed, baby, good job..” He grabbed a hold of your plush thighs, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders before snapping his hips into yours, reaching deeper in this position. He fucked into you mercilessly, teasing and testing you to see what made you moan the loudest. And when he found the right button, he hushed you with a gentle squeeze to your neck. 

“Ah ah, what’d I say, sweetheart? If you keep moaning like this, he’s bound to figure it out. What do you think he’d say about it, huh? About his best friend being balls deep inside his precious daughter's needy, sopping cunt, hm?”

UHUHU I WISH I ADDED MORE PETNAMES BUT I CAN'T BC I DIDN'T WANT TO MAKE IT TOO LONG..

[sant-riley]

[Thinking about L.T Price blurb]

(John Price x gender neutral!reader)(can be read as romantic or platonic!)

Summary: you were one of John's teammates from back in his Lieutenant days, despite being not worth anything to higher ups, he goes back for you.

Warnings: Implied age gap, also implied that you're smaller than him, I did not reread this, anything else I missed? Just lmk!

Words: 500-ish

Crying at the thought L.T Price saving you on a mission that goes sideways, everyone is telling him to leave, that it's not possibly worth it to risk his own life to save yours. He's a Lieutenant, he has a duty, to survive for the whole.

But when has he ever listened to higher ups when it comes to his men? He runs back in without a second thought.

So he rushes back in, moving in on your location, sliding to his knees to help you prop yourself up, arms grabbing at your arms to pull you towards him. You can't really make out what he's saying, not all of it at least, the shock rushing in and paralyzing you. 

It isn't until he flicks your forehead, the small pain giving you some sense to focus on him.

"Are you broken?" You shakily move to tap at your leg, you got grazed right at your knee, blood coating your pants, it's impossible to see just how much damage lies underneath.

John curses under his breath, looking around you both, hearing the gun shots get impossibly louder.

You think he's gonna leave you, you're at peace with that, it's the only thing he can do, he can't risk his life for some low level soldier.

You open your mouth, ready to tell him to go, that it's okay until you're shoved over his shoulder, one arm coming to lock your legs in place to his body, while his other hand holds a small pistol.

"M gonna need you to provide coverfire for me, alright? We're both walking out of here in one piece."

"But sir-" 

"Do as I say, and we'll be just fine Sweetness." He hoists you higher, and you take position, your hands are steady, you're gonna make it home, you got faith in your Lieutenant.

Hours later, you're back on base, your leg momentarily in a cast, does he come and visit you. (He got stuck getting a verbal lashing from the higher ups, wondering why in God's fucking name he went against direct orders to go get you, he doesn't let that slip though, just that he had to do some paperwork)

You sob out a thank you, saying how much you owe him, that you're forever in his debt.

He just laughs and says you can treat him to a cigar and you're even.

He doesn't realize it leads to you following him everywhere, always under his watch.

John calls you a pain in the ass and that he doesn't deserve the loyalty you decided to give, but it's been months and you're still clinging onto him, he decides it's not that bad, in a world where he can't trust most people, it's a comfort to know he has you, at the very least.

It isn't until years later when John forms 141, the first file he drops down in front of Kate is yours, his eyes softening at seeing your face on the envelope, it's been quite awhile since then, you've grown into a fine soldier, only issue being you're incredibly stubborn and work the best with him, and not the best with others due to your unwavering loyalty to the man. Any missions you two go on together go by flawlessly, both of you intuned to one another.

Kate opens up your folder, quickly skimming your records and she hums, looking up slowly with an eye brow raised.

"Why them? Seems like they may be a bit of a hassle." She murmurs but not unkindly, just stating a fact. Yes you work well, with Price, but you'll need to be a team player, to care for the others as well. She can't help but wonder if you'll make a good fit.

"Kids a hassle alright, but you'll never meet a more devoted and caring soldier, First one I ever risked my ass for, they've been a constant since." He nods firmly, meeting Laswells eyes with his own, determination fueling his gaze.

Kate licks her lips, she knows that look. He's not gonna let up on this, not gonna back down. Taking one more look at your file, she nods.

"Well, if you can vet for them, they're in. Now, who's next?"

[idleoblivion]

"A Dangerous Muse" Jade Leech x GN Reader

Synopsis: You found him so pretty, it was hard not to get inspired. Still, it felt a little creepy to sketch him without permission. But it’s fine as long as he doesn’t find out, right?

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: This was supposed to be like maybe 500 words idk what happened

Warnings: Lots of teasing (I mean, it's Jade), brief Floyd cameo

Your secret wasn’t a particularly bad one, it was mostly just embarrassing. When he sat with his brother and Azul at lunch, when you could catch him during his shift at the lounge, and if you just happened to spot him at random around campus, you would take almost any chance to draw Jade in your sketchbook. They were usually just sketches of him looking poised and gentlemanly as he did whatever task he had taken up at the time. Occasionally though, you caught him being slightly more expressive, smiling in a way that showed his pointed teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. You were more than a little embarrassed of how well you had learned the details of his face, and by the dozen or more pages you’d already filled up with drawings of him. Something about him just felt naturally alluring and intriguing to you, he made the perfect muse.

Right now, you’re sitting at a table in the lounge trying to look like you're studying and not waiting for the appearance of a certain eel. You picked a seat off to the side by yourself like usual to not draw any attention. You were pretty sure you had overheard him in the halls earlier say he was working this afternoon, so it was odd to you that he hadn’t shown up yet. You pull your sketchbook out while you wait and look through some of your previous works. You sigh looking at one of them where you were especially proud of how you captured the mischievous look that he had been wearing, with a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes that-

…Was incredibly similar to the way he was looking at you right now.

You hadn’t seen him enter from the front door or kitchen, he seemingly materialized out of thin air. But he was there now, walking past the other patrons at their tables and headed towards your own. You hurriedly shut your sketchbook and try your best to act casual.

“Oya, what a surprise seeing you here, prefect. Are you here to try our new menu?” His eyes still have a dangerous look to them, and he not so subtly steals a few glances at your sketchbook.

“No actually, I just got done studying. I was getting ready to leave.” You try to grab your sketchbook and leave before he has time to question you further, but his hand reaches out and sits on top of it first.

“Oh, you’re already done? Are you sure? I could take a look at what you’ve been working on and assist you if you need.” He has a knowing smirk on his face that immediately increases your anxiety. His hand is still resting on top of the sketchbook.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. I can’t afford to be making deals right now and-”

“Why, who said anything about a deal? Can’t I want to help you simply out of the goodness of my heart?” He feigns an innocent expression that you don’t trust in the slightest.

Before you can retort, he grabs the sketchbook off the table and moves to open it. You nearly lunge out of your seat to try and grab it from him but he seems to anticipate it and holds it behind his back, out of your reach. He smiles again at your panicky face.

“Oya, what’s this? Is there something private in this book of yours? I thought you were supposed to be just studying?” 

“I-I was, I just don’t want you doing anything to my notes, I worked hard on them.” His eyes narrow but his smile widens. “Yes, I’m sure you did. I promise I won’t compromise your work, I only intend to look.”

He pulls the sketchbook in front of him again, and you have to resist the urge to attempt to snatch it immediately. He steps forward until he’s too close, in your personal space. You try to back up only to find he has you caught between him and the table. He really leans in, his face only a few inches from you and you feel your cheeks heating up at the unexpected proximity.

“You’re sure all I’m going to find in here is notes, hm?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find another excuse to get you out of this. Him being so close to you certainly isn’t helping you get your thoughts together. He takes advantage of your shocked state and finally opens it to the page you’d been on.

“W-wait, Jade you can’t-”

“My, what’s all this~?”

He holds the book out of your reach again while he flips through the pages. You don’t even move to stop him this time, accepting your humiliating fate. You look away from him in your shame, which makes you miss the way his eyes light up as he skims over your work.

“...You’re certainly a skilled artist, I’ll give you that.” You force yourself to look back at him and gauge how upset at you he is, but his demeanor offers you no clues to what his mood really is. “I’m no critic, but I can appreciate how detailed your drawings are. You must have studied me very intently, no?”

“I…um, I guess? I just draw you whenever I see you around. I’m sorry, I know that’s-” “Why me?” You’re caught off guard by that question, and he repeats, “Why me? There are a plethora of other students you could draw, but as far as I saw, I appear to be your only subject. Why is that?”

Well, there’s no point in lying to him, and you were already so mortified, what’s a little more humiliation?

“You’re really pretty.”

For the very first time, you see Jade look almost dumbstruck. Only for a brief moment though, as his face almost immediately changes to something much more intense. You almost think he’s upset until you realize he’s looking at you with the same face he made at his terrariums, or when he cultivated a new species of mushroom. He was intrigued, you had his full attention and interest and the weight of it was becoming overwhelming the longer he stared at you.

“You…” he trails off for a second then leans in close to you again. “It’s impressive how often you manage to surprise me.”

“I’m sorry, I still should’ve asked. I can stop, really, I will. I’m so sorry.” You spoke fast and quietly, still wishing for nothing more than a way out of this situation.

“Now, there’s no need for that. Artists need to practice regularly to improve their skills, yes? I would hate to take that away from you.” “Huh? So…you want me to keep sketching you?” “Unfortunately, Azul would have a fit if he found out I was offering you a service and not charging anything.” Of course, nothing comes for free in Octavinelle. 

“Well, what would you charge then? Madol? Would I have to wait tables here?” He laughs lightly under his breath.“No, nothing like that. I believe our little deal should be well thought out and discussed, not impulsively decided right here and now. Why don’t you meet me back here this weekend, and we’ll work something out? Just you and I of course, I’m sure we don’t need Azul to mediate. Maybe I could even have you sample some dishes from our new menu during our discussion. There would be no charge for that of course, since you’d be doing me a favor by agreeing.” 

As you look at his face to decipher his intentions, you're left even more confused. Why is he looking at you almost…fondly? And he wants to meet with you completely alone? And he’d offer you food for free? What did he mean by you meeting with him being a favor to him? Was this…a date? What exactly was he implying? He just continued watching you, with his polite and courteous persona that you can never truly read put back on. Still a bit flustered, you try and rationalize why you should or shouldn’t go, before he interrupts your thoughts one last time.

“Oh, and you’re very pretty as well.”

Your face is burning after that. You swallow the lump in your throat before you meekly respond.

“Oh, t-thanks. Um, yeah, this weekend sounds great.” He smiles with his teeth on display again. “I look forward to it, prefect.” He grabs your hand and places a chaste kiss to the back of it before offering you your sketchbook back. You take it without a word, brain completely short circuiting.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. He left you by yourself with your own racing thoughts and heart and headed towards Azul’s office. You quickly gather yourself and get ready to leave. On your way out the door, you suddenly spot Floyd watching you with an amused smirk. He makes some kissy faces and noises at you teasingly and points toward the office where Jade is. Your face gets hot all over again and you rush out of the lounge, hearing Floyd cackle at you as you hurry away.

[astermath]

sweet like you����

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then. 

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top. 

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.” 

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes. 

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box. 

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know. 

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground. 

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing. 

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm. 

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?” 

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.” 

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least. 

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!” 

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool. 

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.” 

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work. 

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating. 

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))