#tbh i don’t understand where they stand on that

[ssentimentals]

Hiii, I don’t really have a prompt that’d I’d like to request, but could I get something with scoups & reader that is scared of bad weather (tornado type weather & such—speaking from experience 🥲)?

I love your writing so much & love reading all your small prompts :)

hiii! tbh i always wanted people to come up here with their own requests, but that never reallly happened as most prefer to pick from already formulated prompts, so you have no idea how happy you made me with this message! 💜thank you for your kind words as well :')

seungcheol + bad weather

when you get a notification on your phone about the upcoming storm, dread settles uncomfortably in your chest. makes it hard to breathe, squeezing your lungs painfully with growing anxiety. clutching your bag, you look up at the sky, noticing how light blue sky slowly starts turning grey. your phone buzzes and you sigh in relief, seeing seungcheol's photo on your screen.

“i got the storm notification,” your boyfriend says instead of greeting. “i’m taking rest of the day off, will work from home. where are you, baby?”

“got the groceries, going home now.” you wince at the way wind picks up. “i’m gonna-“

“can you go inside and wait for me to pick you up?”seungcheol interrupts.

warmth pools at the the pit of your stomach. seungcheol has no problems with any weather conditions, he has no anxiety or panic attacks, doesn't flinch at thundreclaps - it's all you. since he learned this about you, it never fails to make your heart squeeze with affection how he always goes out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety during these moments. “it's a ten minute walk,” you say, shaking your head. “i'll go on my own. be careful, yeah? drive safe.”

“i'll be back home very soon, angel.” seungcheol assures you.

before seungcheol no one ever made you feel so seen regarding this issue. you know that he's going to probably break some rules on his way back home just to get quicker to you and it's enough to make you rush home as well, ignoring the way wind picks up. force of nature is terrifying, especially when you know how devastating it can be; you quickly turn on the lights and shut the curtains as soon as you're inside. with years came not only age but wisdom: you learned how to deal with your fear. any kinds of distractions work the best and until your boyfriend arrives, you busy yourself with the groceries, preparing easy salad just to keep your hands busy.

seungcheol arrives with a loud bang and even louder: “baby, where are you?”. his big eyes are on you the second you appear in the hallway and wide smile spreads on his face: “hi, love.”

you grin, coming up to greet him. “hey, cheollie. thanks for coming over.”

“don't mention it.” seungcheol waves it off like it's not a big deal, when it actually is. he has no idea how much the fact that he took his job home the second he saw storm notification means to you. “you got the groceries?”

it's very domestic for next twenty minutes; seungcheol changes and you two enjoy the salad and tea, when another notification about a possibility of this storm turning into a tornado pops up. it makes your breath hitch, but seungcheol's warm hand on top of yours keeps you grounded. “let’s go to bed, yeah?” he suggests. “we can watch something.”

“but your work?” you ask, frowning. you took this week fully off and didn't have to worry about missing any important meetings. “it’s okay, really, we can-“

“don't worry about it.” seungcheol presses, taking your hand and forcing you to stand up. he hugs you tight, leaving small kiss on your forehead. “i just need you all cuddled up to me, my work can wait, okay? let's clean this up and go upstairs.”

you have no idea how seungcheol knows exactly what to do or say in moments like this. his touch is never too much, his words are never harsh, his gaze is always understanding and not pitying. when first thunder rolls in, he already has you two laying on the bed, covered from head to toe. first thunderclap echoes int he distance at first and then silences you both at the full volume. the sound makes you flinch as you've been slapped - you barely manage to conceal your whine, burying deeper int he comfort of the weighted blanket.

“it's okay, love, it's okay.” seungcheol soothingly rubs your back, pulling you even closer. “i’m here, yeah? do you want headphones?”

headphones help immensely but you were always shy about them at first; it always seemed to be so rude to just put headphones on when another person is around. seungcheol assured you from the start that he has no problems with it, but you always hesitate.

“hey,” he leans in, making sure that you make eye contact. “you come first, remember? you and you well-being always come first. let me get you those headphones.”

you can hear wind whistling outside like it's out there to get you and your heart rate picks up with dread settling as a heavy weight on your shoulders. it’s incredibly frustrating - you wish you never had this fear, wish it didn’t affect you the way it does. at the sound of yet another thunderclap, you squeeze your eyes shut and shiver, wanting to disappear. only when warm body settles next to you and headphones are placed gently on your head, only then you uncurl from your position and open your eyes. seungcheol is watching you with furrowed eyebrows, worry evident in his gaze. he caresses your face lovingly and points at the headphones, handing you your phone. “music,” he says. his thumb brushes below your eyes and he sighs. “i’m here, baby. just listen to the music, yeah?”

you nod. shuffling to cuddle closer, you whisper: “go ahead and work, cheol. it’s alright, i’ll listen to the music anyways.”

“you sure?” seungcheol asks and when you nod, he leans in to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. “okay. but if it gets worse or you’ll need something, just let me know, okay?”

it’s so, so sweet. the way he angles his body so it’s be easier for you to lay down, how he wraps one arm around you securely and pulls you in, how he ocassionally leaves kisses on top of your head while he works. the safe space he creates for you lets you zone out, steady your breathing. you still flinch at the sounds but fear is not that strong when seungcheol is close to remind you that he is here for you. after some time he puts away his laptop and lets you flop on top of him, covering you two with a blanket.

“i quite like this, actually,” he comments, smiling.

“which part? me crushing you with my weight or me having a stupid fear?” you ask, aiming for a joke but falling flat.

“the part where we get to cuddle and i let you know that no fear is stupid and that holding you makes me incredibly happy.” he looks at you, eyes full of tenderness. “i’m happy to be here, right now. happy that you’re letting me do this.”

your throat feels too tight. before you can say something stupid like “i love you” and confess first, seungcheol adds: “can we do this more often?”

you don’t trust you voice not to crack if you speak, so you nod. seungcheol beams at this and leans in to kiss you. “awesome. now let’s nap for a bit.”

napping is definitely easier than admitting your feelings or facing the raging storm outside. you nod again and close your eyes, breathing in. you’re fast asleep in seconds and don’t feel small kiss on top of your head or quiet “i love you” spoken in the secrecy of the night.

a/n: so. if it wasn't very obvious, i know zero about storms/tornados so i'm sorry if this ended up being very unrealistic. hopefully you liked it :/ - nini

you can find my other writings for seventeen HERE

[heyitsmetonid]

I get this! I TOTALLY get this!

The K-pop fandom is clique-y & entitled IMO. Very delulu (of course), & not always in a healthy way. Fans & sasaengs fail to realize that idols are REAL PEOPLE that have their own lives, interests, families, friends, talents outside of music, etc. & this trickles into fan fiction & how they treat those around them. Even the idols themselves. The wild fantasy just runs amuck!

Not every fan is like this, but it seems that there are lots online like this.

With that said, I’ve been in your shoes. I’m still in your shoes tbh! I’ve incorporated smut into my fics, too, thinking they’d help or get more attention. And I do like writing smut, but I’m only good at it when it involves me OCs because I know them in & out. What they look like, what they think, what turns them on, etc. I can only imagine what turns on, for example, Jackson Wang. He’s my ult bias! I love him, but as much as I’d like to, I don’t know him. So any smut I write around him is complete fantasy. (I only write ATEEZ fics FYI.) I guess there’s nothing wrong with that, but I write because I want people to enjoy the story, the plot, the characters, not just the pussy eating or dick sucking scene.

It’s tough getting engagement on a post or a story! It’s tough being a writer & trying to breakout! But I do believe I have an audience out there. I just haven’t found them yet.

So, my little oatmeal, 🥣💜 I understand your frustration, & you are certainly not alone.

TLDR: So, y’all only read fan fiction for fucking & sucking? Not for a good story, plot, or to support the writer? Gotcha! I know where we stand now.

{cross posting from bluesky} i feel so silly crying bc i'll no longer be writing fic but i feel like i'm grieving my fics i worked so hard on.

what really solidified it for me was i put a sex scene in my recent fic update, it made sense for the story and what was going on but it didn't NEED to be there, i had put it in just to see if that would get more people to read it.

and it worked. i got several replies on my posts saying people were interested now. why did it take sex for you to be interested? it's a story full of rich world building and a complex plot about what it means to be 'human' but you wouldn't read it unless there was some dick in ass? that's not what the story is about.

so that really just frustrated me and made me realize that what i'm trying to accomplish isn't something well suited for a fanfic space that is largely just meant to be self indulgent fluff and porn. (at least in kpop fanfic spaces)

but yeah. today's update will be the last fanfic update from me. i'm not doing it anymore. sorry for leaving these stories half finished. i'll probably just leave Buried Treasure and Afterimage on ao3 for now. Afterimage might get reworked into an original story and once it does i'll probably take it down but it'll be there for now.

i really appreciate anyone that supported my fics, even if it was quietly. i just don't think i fit into the fanfic space anymore or maybe i'm just too sensitive or not built for it idk.

thanks for having me. i'll still be around reading fanfics here and there but prob not to the same degree i used to.

all this being said, i'm not quitting WRITING. i'm just moving onto original works only, so you'll still see me being annoying about stuff and posting my writing, it'll just be 100% either from my own brain or an off shoot of a world my friend has built that i've been assisting with.

[solar-halos]

the gwenanon of the hunger games fandom

okay not to expose myself as a total drama island fandom participant but there used to be an anon that would flood everyone’s inbox if they didn’t pledge complete loyalty to a character named gwen. like it was actually really bad, they’d send death threats and everything and threaten to tear (well… they’d say “tore”) you to pieces. they eventually stopped but it’s like a fandom joke

anyway i’m not saying that this person is gwenanon’s level of hostile, i’m just saying that they’re apparently pretty infamous for having cold takes. the first time i was exposed to them was actually bc i saw the post they made about annie being a fragile, damsel-in-distress typa character. i ended up reblogging it and being really petty in the tags (bc saying that annie was a sacrificial lamb was crazyyy.. like that doesn’t even make sense) but then i deleted it bc im way too grown to be getting so passive aggressive over someone saying something weird.

but then i looked through their account and… im kind of obsessed. like are they a real person? are they trolling? it doesn’t matter to me either way. i’m comparing them to gwenanon bc even though it was distressing to see gwenanon in ur inbox at first, it eventually became a fandom joke and td blogs would post something like “i hate gwen so fucking much i hope she rots” to lure gwenanon to their inboxes. and i know the easy solution to this would just be to reach out to the hg person directly bc they’re obviously not even close to anonymous, but like… i’m shy. also i don’t want to engage first, id be honored if they blocked me bc they just couldn’t stand my energy. but also i would be sad bc then i couldn’t lurk on their acc

[silverhalla]

neve came back and I IMMEDIATELY started crying

[quibbs126]

So…nobody asked for a Pure Vanilla/Black Raisin fankid, but I’ve had this dude bopping around in my head for a good while, and now with this, I decided to actually make him. So this is Golden Raisin Cookie

Also I was working on the Pastry/Herb one but since I had already started at one point, left for a bit then came back with a new idea, it wasn’t really working out so I needed to start from scratch, so I just made him in the meantime

Alright, so there’s a bit of backstory for his name. So I’m at college, and since I live on campus, I need a dining pass, and I always use it for breakfast. So one morning, I’m out at one of the halls, getting some chocolate chips for my pancakes over in the oatmeal section (because the waffle toppings don’t have chocolate chips), and I notice they have raisins there, but instead of your typical black raisins, they were gold. And so I thought “you know, golden raisins would make a good pureraisin fankid” since they’re raisins like BR and they’re a yellow/gold color like PV. But the thought didn’t really go much from there at the time. Then I started doing these fankids, and it came back to me.

Golden raisins: (note these raisins are not that colorful, I’ve seen them in real life)

In my free time I’ve mused about him and one other fankid idea (mostly since I was under no obligation to make them and had no perceived time limit), and I just decided “why not?”

So as for his design, I’ll be honest, I’m a bit underwhelmed by the final result. I dunno, something about it looks too plain. I mean yeah, I based it off of the Raisin villagers mostly, since they’re probably the people he’s growing up with, and he strikes me as the type of person to just wear plain and simple clothes, but still, in my head he looked a lot better. Guess that’s what you get when you try to build a design up in your head long before you actually draw it

Also his hair was going to be in a ponytail, but then I thought it looked better just down. Also he was just going to have yellow eyes initially, but then I toyed with the idea of him having black eyes, and eventually I came to the compromise of just having both, just in both eyes instead of heterochromia like PV. His pin for his cape is supposed to be based on young Pure Vanilla’s outfit (which is where a lot of inspiration for his outfit comes from), but it’s rotated slightly from the sort of cross shape to more of an X because of his kind of magic. Also his stick is crooked so that crows can sit on there

JuSo moving on to Golden Raisin himself, so I imagine him to be a pretty friendly and nice guy, helping out whoever needs it, similar to Pure Vanilla. But he definitely has a bit more a penchant for violence. Speaking of which, while he is a magic user like his father, instead of healing magic, he uses offensive magic and is a bit of a powerhouse, though he does still know a few healing spells. Also, he’s close with the crows and can probably summon them at will. I imagine he has one particular crow that’s albino/golden, sort of like him, and they’ve been friends for a long time. That one’s probably the one that often sits on his staff’s perch

He reminds me of this character from Fire Emblem Awakening, I didn’t see much of him but he was a dark mage who also had a thing for crows (and a bit of a violent streak, which Golden Raisin doesn’t have (at least not much), but he does have some darkness). The Wiki says his name is Henry. Also, his eyes are often closed just like Pure Vanilla, but I decided not to keep that for GR since that’d make him look too much like his old man

Also another thing about Golden Raisin (and the darkness I mentioned), he’s become rather interested in the dark/forbidden magics, but as you might imagine, he’s been unable to get his hands on them. However, perhaps opportunity could present itself…

But yeah, that’s Golden Raisin. I like him

I also imagine he’s friends with the other fankid I’m working on in my head, I just haven’t figured her out yet. Mostly her name though. If you’re curious, that one’s a darklico fankid

I realize the particulars of who their parents are might make their age similarities and friendship a little strange, but given the presumed timeline, I suppose it works out

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

If I see one more conspiracy theorist claim that crinoid fossils are prehistoric pre-human screws, I will bite their arm off. The animals still exist! They are distant relatives, but they are still here! And we have a ridiculous amount of complete fossils and even partial ones that show enough of the animal to clearly show what it is!

[finelinevogue]

do you take requests? With the holidays here I am craving a fluffy holiday writing w/ Harry 🥺 like being with family and soaking up time together - just super fluffy

yes my lovely!!! i’m so excited to be writing this for you - keep them coming✨🌟

word count - ~1k (just silly moments of christmas morning tbh!)

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

•🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄•

It was Christmas morning.

You were blanketed in a soft duvet, as well as being smothered by your boyfriend. One of Harry’s arm was draped over your waist, whilst the other was tucked under your pillows.

The fairy lights were still on from last night, casting a warm glow over the room since it was still dark.

You got out bed really quietly, making sure Harry was tucked in still, before going to the bathroom for your morning routine. Harry knew by now that you couldn’t stay in bed long before needing the toilet or brushing your teeth.

When you exited the bathroom Phoebe, your little black cat - not that she was a kitten, she was just very small - brushed past your legs.

“Merry Christmas, Phoebs.” You knelt down to scratch under her chin the way she liked.

“Can’t believe you wished the cat a Merry Christmas before me.” You heard Harry grumble from bed.

You laughed, scooping Phoebe up. She was a very calm cat, so picking her up was no big deal to her.

You walked around to your side of the bed, dropping Phoebe off to say ‘Hello’ to Harry. She purred when she realised she was between her parents, nuzzling her head under Harry’s chin. You and Harry had come to realise that Phoebe enjoyed the feel of Harry’s morning stubble.

“You were asleep.” You argued, stroking Phoebe’s back as Harry allowed her to keep head-butting his chin.

“Mm, but… Yeah fine.”

“Well, Merry Christmas anyways my love.” You smiled, leaning over to give him a kiss on his forehead since Phoebe was in the way of his lips.

“Merry Christmas to you too, love. Sleep well?”

“Yeah, but you seriously need to keep your hands to yourself at night.” You gave him a side-eye, which Harry knew was in jest.

“W-what?” He pretended like he didn’t know.

You just gave him a look like you didn’t need to explain yourself for him to understand.

“Babe!…. I can’t help it if my hand accidentally ends up resting on your boob. I have no control.” Harry said innocently.

“Sure you don’t, pal.” You rolled your eyes.

“Pal? Oh I’m your pal now, am I?”

“My best bud.” You chuckled.

Harry moved Phoebe and gently placed her on the floor, where she took it upon herself to go curl up on the dirty laundry in the corner of the room.

“Phoebe, darling, would you so kindly run along so I can remind mum exactly how we’re not just ‘pals’.”

•🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄•

The kitchen had been cold when you’d both eventually made it downstairs.

You’d made a morning black coffee for Harry and a breakfast tea for yourself, whilst Harry put some logs on the fire and put the Christmas tree lights on.

Next, you could hear the sound of Netflix starting up.

You smiled to yourself as you waited for the kettle to boil. The garden was covered in a layer of thin frost. It looked like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie - especially as a Robin flew across the window and onto the bird stand.

Harry soon found you.

He wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You two stood in silence, standing together as you watched the birds dance around the garden. You cupped Harry’s hands on your stomach, feeling so close to him in this moment not only physically but emotionally too.

Christmas was always a solemn time of the year for you both, after having relatives pass away this time of the year and relationships fading during the holiday time this was always a time when you and Harry held each other a little closer.

“I love you.” Harry said quietly.

“I love you too.” You said back.

•🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄• 🎄 •🎄•

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Rolling around on the floor as you belly laughed, hands on your stomach because the laughing was now causing aches, as Harry had opened his next present.

“What the fuck…” Harry laughed.

It was a gimmicky gift but one that you knew Harry would love.

People often complained that Harry was difficult to buy for, using the excuse that he could afford to buy everything so why buy him anything. To you, though, you were always finding things to buy him. A photo album. A crappy disposable camera to take photos on for a specific event. New pyjamas. A new hoodie to replace the one you’d been stealing.

In fact, Harry was the easiest person to buy for.

Just as you were the easiest person for Harry to buy for. He always knew just what to buy you - not that Christmas was about the presents for either of you.

“Phoebs, your mum is crazy!” Harry stroked Phoebe from where she looked confused at the continuous laughter coming from you.

“Ahh.” You sighed as you came to a close on your laughing.

You looked over at Harry to see him surrounded by wrapping paper, which Phoebe was now attacking.

You could feel your pupils dilating as you looked at him. You couldn’t get over how good he looked in Christmas pyjamas and a stupid Santa hat that he had gotten as Secret Santa present.

“What?” He asked when you’d stared for a moment too long at him.

“You’re pretty.” You said, sounding like you were drunk even though you’d only had a tea and one eggnog today.

“Oh am I now?”

“Stop fishing for more compliments. One was enough from me today.”

Harry crawled the distance between you and held his body up over yours. Your teasing stopped then.

“What?” You asked, returning the question after Harry just stopped above you.

“You’re pretty too.”

And he leaned down to kiss you, over and over again until he showed you exactly how pretty you are.

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, Satoru Gojo is a mean little shit, there will be a lot of threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit and some infidelity and confusion. There is some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Toxic Asshole Gojo, and toxicc hoe Geto

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 8.7k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and wants an open relationship. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Masterlist

ꕥChapter 1 ꕥ

Satoru's POV

Satoru Gojo hates you. No, he really hates you.

As Suguru and you walk in, hand in hand, and he sees your pretty eyes all lit up, he realizes he despises you more than anything. Hates how you smile at him, how you look at Suguru so adoringly, he really hates how positive and sweet you are, especially to him, when he’s a dick to you.

Why don’t you stop? Just be a bitch back or something, be real with him, but no, you’re perfect aren’t you? Just a perfect girl, beautiful, though he doesn’t find you attractive, no way . Even though he can see every curve in that dress you wear, your lush breasts swaying (because why can’t you wear a bra) your hips swaying, your little waist where it juts in.

You have a gorgeous body, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care your skin glows, and your cheeks get pink. He hates that. He hates every bit of you, as you stand there, so tiny compared to Suguru and him, so tiny he could throw you. Tiny and evil. Sure you’ve been nothing but nice but he knows you’re awful somewhere in there, because who can be so sweet?

As you bounce in his office, holding a little envelope that was pink just like the dress you wore (god you’re so girly, you annoy him that way too) Satoru Gojo just scowls at you, then looks to Suguru. Suguru looks like a puppy so in love with you already, and how, it hadn’t been that long had it…

“Happy birthday, Gojo!” You beam at him, coming to his desk and leaning forward, hugging him around his neck. He tenses then.

Your collarbone is so inviting and delicate, right against his face, as your breasts are soft on his own chest, the weight of them so intoxicating. You smell so sweet, like cherry blossoms, he hates that, hates you. He hates how much his arms itch to wrap back, how much his hands want to slide up your back, grip those pretty tits that are killing him.

Fuck he hates you.

“Ahem…” You awkwardly step back as he just sits there, and he glares at you, making your pretty face fall for a moment.

Good.

Your POV

“Sorry, got carried away. I am so excited to give you this gift!” You hand him the pink envelope, and Suguru comes closer, leaning on Satoru’s desk and smirking.

“Open it baby boy.” Suguru teases, and Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes.

“A gift would be not having to see you.” He says tersely, glaring at you then, and how did someone so stunning and beautiful look at you so mean . For what?

You tense then, and Suguru has a glare on his handsome face, coming to wrap an arm around your waist gently but assuredly. His big hand is warm on your hip, and you watch Satoru’s bright blue eyes hone in on them like a hawk. Suguru leans forward and presses his lips against your temple, firm hot lips that you adored, and you instantly relax.

“Satoru, she’s just trying to be nice, could you please just try not to be such a colossal dick?” Suguru asks calmly, and Satoru lowers his gaze back to the envelope again.

Satoru Gojo hates you. You don’t know why.

You’ve been dating Suguru for only three months, so not a very long time, but you’d known him for a little longer, he’d come into the club you work at on the weekends, and would sit at the bar and talk to you. Until one night you got the hint, and did go home with him, and fuck if it wasn’t the best decision. Suguru Geto was absolutely amazing in every way possible.

You both had fallen into an easy situation-ship, as Suguru was very open sexually, and though you weren’t at first, he made it fun. You were bisexual, so you all started just having fun together with a couple gorgeous girls, and fuck Suguru was superb in bed too. The thoughts alone make you tremble.

You all ended up developing feelings and deciding to be together, and exclusively date even if you all had fun in the room, you both promised to only ‘date’ each other. It was weird, and not common, but it seemed to work. You loved watching Suguru get pleased by another woman, and he loved to watch you get pleased.

Even though he hadn’t said he loved you, you had let it slip during one particular love making session alone together. Definitely had to do with Suguru’s tongue honestly. He had said he needed some time, which was fine with you, because Suguru treated you like some queen.

He took care of you, he was there for you, shit he spoiled you honestly. Though he was with other women sexually, he only dated you, and he’d even offered to bring a guy in the bedroom. But you weren’t sure about that sort of thing, with a guy.

When you’d met his best friend, and fuck you’d been so excited, Suguru talked him up like he was amazing, he clearly adored him, so much so you wondered if they were together together, perhaps in the past. Suguru brought up that they'd shared women and everything, and of course when you saw Satoru Gojo your heart had faltered.

He was beautiful, this tall white haired man with a perfect face and baby blue eyes, the yin to Suguru’s yang. Both of them were the most gorgeous men you’d seen. Suguru had talked so much about how Satoru was just the absolute best person, how he would adore you, because Suguru did. Bright and funny, and a loyal friend, almost like family.

Welp.

The Satoru Gojo you met was mean . Nasty. He looked at you like you were something disgusting to him, and he had not once smiled your way, and you have absolutely no clue what you’ve done. You have tried everything, to the point Suguru has brought up not hanging out with him as much, but you never want to ruin a friendship, and you insist he keeps trying.

But no matter what, any time you were around, Satoru had nothing nice to say, no he had mean things to say. Sometimes so cruel Suguru and him would fight, and Satoru would sort of apologize, once Suguru backed off hanging out with him. Which was hard, since they work together in the same building, both running the same damn company together.

You hate that you come between them.

“Yeah, yeah… my birthday is tomorrow.” He slides a silver letter opener to tear open the envelope then.

“She wanted to give it to you today.”

“Hmm… holy fuck!” He runs a hand through his silky white hair, as his full lips part in a gasp, staring at the tickets. “This is front and center for the game tomorrow!? How, these are sold out!?”

“I got them last month. Suguru brought up how much you love going to those games and I got a deal on them.” You say, and Suguru smiles down at you, looking so handsome, you brush back his long locks, kissing his cheek and giggling.

“Knew he’d love it.” Suguru murmurs, and you get just a bit of hope, until Satoru pulls the tickets out.

“Three?” He says haughtily, glaring those ridiculously pretty blue eyes up at you then, blinking those spiky white lashes. You sigh.

“Yeah, I thought we could all go? If that’s okay!” You wring your hands nervously in front of you.

“Of course it’s okay, right Satoru?”

“Can I take someone else?” He asks, and you feel your chest tighten. Suguru opens his mouth, brows low over his brown eyes, but you stop him.

“Um, it’s your gift. Of course you can. I didn’t mean to impose.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, leaning back in the big black office chair and thrumming his fingers on the mahogany desk like he’s bored.

“You don’t care? You bought them, and a pretty penny I bet.” You just blink back that emotion, smiling brightly, earning a scowl.

“It’s your gift and I shouldn’t have been so sure you’d want me to go. So of course, but please take Suguru.”

“Babe-”

“It’s fine!”

“Oh I’ll take Suguru.” He smirks, and it’s a nasty one, too nasty to be on such a pretty face, as he eyes your body up and down. “Think I’ll invite a really pretty girl, someone banging hot.”

You tense at his words, and Suguru does too. “Yeah, what now? As if she’s not drop dead gorgeous, please fuck all the way off. You can dislike her but don’t lie.”

You’re bright red, and barely held in tears make your vision blur as Satoru casually assesses you. “Mmm… she’s okay I guess. I meant actually hot.”

“I’m just gonna go.” You whisper then, trembling as he so casually douses the small bit of self esteem you have, the one that Suguru had helped you with.

“Apologize, now, because you know it’s bullshit. I know you stare at her so cut the shit.” Suguru’s voice gets dark, deep and authoritative, and Satoru frowns then.

“I didn’t say she’s ugly or something. As if that matters to her .”

“I’m right here, you know.” You cut in then, tilting your chin up, and Satoru stands up then, hands in his pockets.

“All right, surely you know the caliber of women I get. How do you stack up, short stuff?” He is right in front of you, bent down, and your tears escape, just two of them, but you quickly blink and look down.

“Satoru, I swear to fucking-”

“It’s fine, Suguru.” You whisper, swiping at your eyes then facing him, the man who so casually says you’re basically unattractive. “I’m sure you get much prettier women than me. I don’t think I’m very pretty, by the way.”

He glares then, a snarl on his lips. “You’re full of shit, I know you think you’re hot shit, I see it in the way you act, the way you walk.”

“You don’t know shit. You don’t know anything about me. You can call me ugly all the fuck you want but don’t pretend to know who I am inside.” He blinks his white lashes, leaning back a bit and opening his mouth.

“Baby…”

“I didn’t say you’re ugly, I just…”

“Said I’m nothing like girls you get. Said I’m not hot.”

“You’re not hot to me.”

“Good, I shouldn’t be! I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Well thank god I can’t imagine having to wake up and look at that face in the morning.” You back up then, and the tears do flow, and for just a moment you see Satoru’s face fall, as if maybe he realized how horrible he is.

But too late, you just want to leave.

“Satoru I’m fucking done, you- baby don’t go.” You shake your head as he holds on to you.

“I’ll leave and stop ruining your day. Have a good birthday, Gojo.” You murmur, and he opens his lips to say something, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand, leaning up to kiss Suguru then. “I overstepped.”

“You didn’t, he’s being-”

“Text me later.” He reaches for you but you turn and walk out the door, your chest heaving, trying not to show tears so embarrassingly in the busy office, struggling to just catch a breath.

Satoru’s POV

“I’m not going with you. I’m so fucking done. You’ve been a dick but this is too far even for you.” Suguru shoves Satoru then, and Satoru starts to hate himself, more than he already has been lately.

“She knows she’s gorgeous, she just wants attention.”

“You have no clue what she does or doesn’t know. When I met her she was so down on herself, it’s taken a lot just to get her to feel pretty, now you go and fuck that up for her.”

Satoru pauses, lips tensing as they are pressed together, and he sees you walk out of the office from the window, and when he sees you it hurts his heart. Your hands are in your face as if you’re crying into them, and that little pink dress and your long hair are flowing in the wind, you look like some painting out there, so perfect and tiny in the big city.

Fuck.

“I was just trying to get a rise-”

“She spent so much money on those. Just for you to maybe not hate her, and what do you do, make her cry? I’m done.”

“Suguru… I just didn’t think that someone who looks like that…”

“Like what?”

“She’s beautiful and yes I know she is. Not blind. How does she not know she is?” Satoru runs a hand through his silvery hair, and Suguru glares.

“So instead of saying that you make up some bullshit? Not like the girls you get!? She’s prettier than anyone you’ve fucked.”

Satoru lets out a dejected sigh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Then what… what the fuck is your problem! What has she ever done? She even tells me to hang out with you when I don’t want to.”

Satoru pauses. “She does?”

“Yeah, she sure does, or I wouldn’t talk to you aside from business. She pleads your case as you down her, trash her. I know it’s only been a few months, but she is important to me.” Satoru’s heart hurts, as he looks back out the window, and of course you’re gone, probably still crying because of him.

And he’d lied right to your face.

You believed him, too.

How? When you’re so beautiful, how could you not know how just your glittering eyes looking at him tear his heart out of his chest? And that was why Satoru hates you so very much, because of that.

How can he look at his best friend’s girl like that? No, he must hate you instead, because if he lets his guard down…

It’d be over for him.

“Satoru, you aren’t fucking listening.”

Satoru looks at his best friend, seeing the anguish in his face, and it makes him feel even worse. “Sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”

“How could you be so mean, even to a stranger let alone her? It’s not even like you. It’s like I don’t know who you are. And if this is jealousy for her time with me, she always makes sure we have time alone, so-”

“I know she does. I know she’s perfect. I know she’s beautiful. And, I know she is a sweet person who’s only been nice to me. Okay!?”

“So what the fuck-”

“I hate her.”

Suguru blinks in confusion, crossing his arms then, tilting his head to the side to study his best friend. “Why though?”

Satoru’s hands grip his desk so tightly the knuckles go white. “I don’t know what to tell you, I just do.”

“You want me to break up with her don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“So what, I can be miserable and lonely like you?”

“Fuck you, Sugu. I fuck plenty.”

“And I fuck plenty.”

“Her though.”

“Yeah, her but… we bring girls in.” Satoru blinks at that again, imagining you with another woman makes him stupidly hard in his trousers, and he huffs as he turns away so Suguru wouldn’t notice. “So surprised?”

“She seems like a goody goody.”

Why would Suguru want to fuck another girl anyway, when he had you ?

“Brought Utahime home last week and fucked her.” Satoru glares over at Suguru behind his shoulder.

“Both of you?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“And you eiffel towering over this girl too?”

“No. We haven’t done anything with a guy. She hasn’t wanted to, and yes, I offered. I am not one sided.”

“Hmm.” Is all Satoru answers, then Suguru breaks into a little laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanna fuck her. How did I not see this?”

“Do not! What, no.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick she’d go for it. She thinks you’re hot, you know.” Satoru frowns, turning back to Suguru then.

“What, like you all are poly? Why? Isn’t she… enough?”

“That’s a weird question from you. It’s just what works for us right now, but yes she would be enough for me if she wanted to go exclusive. I was already poly when we met, she was a little hesitant but jumped right into it.”

“Huh. Well, I don’t wanna fuck your girl. That would be…”

“Sure you don’t. It’s like when a kid picks on a girl, so childish. You could have just told me that you wanted to.”

It was beyond that. Satoru didn’t wanna just fuck you, he wanted to be with you, kiss you, worship you, fuck he wanted to breed you even, bend you over his desk and cum inside you. It was horrible, the thoughts, as he jerked off in his bed at night to one of your photos he’d sent himself from Suguru’s phone.

Yep it was that bad.

Even this offer? It would never work.

“Maybe just try to be nice, and spend the night.” Satoru looks at Suguru like he's lost it. How was he so calm about you? About sharing you?

“You want me to fuck your girl with you, Sugu? You crazy?”

“If it would get you all to get along, absolutely.”

“She hates me.”

“No, she should, but she doesn’t.” How could you not hate him? Satoru is wracking his brain, trying to figure you out. Were you perfect? “Anyway I’m out, at least ask her to go to the game with us, would you please? And apologize.”

“I can’t just text her.” Suguru rolls his eyes.

“Why not?”

Because he would lose his mind if your name popped up on his goddamn phone, that’s why.

“Tell her it’s fine if she comes. I’ll… apologize at the game.”

“That’s as good as it’ll get I suppose. Bye, asshole.”

Suguru leaves, and Satoru’s mind is a blur, as he digests the type of relationship you and Suguru clearly have, and it was not what he expected. Suguru damn near said ‘fuck my girl’. What would he even do if he touched you? If he tasted you. The thought makes his mouth water, makes his cock hard.

Did you taste as good as you smell? Fuck.

He wouldn’t even wanna share you if you were his, not even with his best friend. Luckily he hates you. Right?

***

Your POV

You’re at the basketball game the next day, dressed up in the white and blue little outfit Suguru had picked out for you, the team’s colors, and you sit awkwardly next to Satoru and Suguru. Satoru has barely talked to you all night, but he’s been nothing but civil, which is as good as you can imagine.

You don’t know why he even invited you after the way he talked to you yesterday, and he sure has not apologized, but here you are. It did take some convincing from Suguru though.

(earlier that day)

“Ah, Sugu… oh f-fuck yes, there there!” Suguru’s tongue was lavishing your little clit, and he sucked it into his mouth, chocolate eyes darting up your body as he hummed on it, making you fall apart under him. “S’good… oh my…”

You’re cumming all over Suguru Geto’s handsome face, and he pulls back with a grin, licking his lips, half his face covered in your arousal. “Princess, I could do this all fucking day. Tastes so good.”

“Sugu… you’re so… mnh!” He’s slid a long finger in you now, curling it up just so, and you see stars then. Suguru could play your little cunt like it was an instrument, his fingers finding that little spot and hitting it again and again.

“Cum again for me, please, Princess.” He cooes the words, and you just arch your hips up as he grabs the fat of your ass, using his fingers and tongue in sync, until you’re completely spent, cumming all over his hands as he sips you up.

“Oh my God, Sugu.” You mumble, left incoherent when he leans over you, kissing your lips softly. You moan into it, clinging to him.

“You have the best little pussy.” You flush then.

“You don’t have to say that, I know you enjoy…” Huh, does it hurt your feelings a bit? No it can’t.

“Sure I do enjoy, but I mean it. The best.” He kisses your lips softly. “You’re my favorite.”

You for some reason doubt it.

You hate that.

“What’s wrong Princess? He has you that down? Imma beat his ass when I see him.” You shake your head, sighing then. “He said he thinks you’re beautiful, you know, and that he was surprised you believed him.”

“That’s… no. Just no. I don’t believe that for shit.”

“He did say it. I know he’s being awful but I almost think it’s because he wants to fuck you.”

“What!?” Your brows raise at that, and Suguru sighs, brushing back your hair then.

“We have played with what, four women now? Haven’t you thought of playing with a guy?”

“Are you into guys? I don’t mind if you want to…”

“No, but I’m very comfortable, especially with Satoru. And you’re not very experienced, you know, it could be fun for you. I’m like the only guy you’ve been with damn near.”

“What you’re hinting at is insane. I know you shared women but they weren’t girlfriends or anything right?”

“No, they weren’t. But sometimes I wonder if you all need to fuck this frustration on each other.”

“Satoru would never wanna fuck me.”

“Baby…”

“What, did you not hear him?”

“Yeah I did, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But let’s not bullshit here, the man can’t get his goddamn eyes off you.”

“In hatred! Anyway no, just no. It would never happen.”

“So you don’t wanna fuck him, hmm?” Suguru grasps you by your wrists then, and you shake your head, crying out when he slides his fingers down your tummy, trembling under his hand. “What about if I have him eat this pretty pussy while you suck my cock?”

“Suguru, what!? Like he would. Silly- mnh… stop.” He’s rubbing your little entrance, and you start soaking his hand, embarrassingly.

“Don’t want us both to eat you out, at the same time?” You whine, pathetically, as Suguru grins then, so handsome and devious. “She sure does.”

“She’s stupid. I only want you.” Then you frown a bit, as you think of the situation you two are in. “S-Suguru… will you always want other women?”

He frowns too, shaking his head, kissing down your jaw. “If you ever wanted to be exclusive I would for you, Princess. Say the word.”

“Would it be like a sacrifice-”

“Not at all. I love the fun we have though. But I would not care if it didn’t happen. I think I need to give you some fun, make you feel so beautiful.” He's trailing his hands down your body ever so slowly, and your mind runs wild with visions.

“With Satoru, no, he… would never make me feel that way. Suguru, mnh… please just-”

“Why are you soaking my hand when you say his name?” He whispers those words, and you falter, as images of Satoru hit your eyes, and Suguru's fingers are getting soaked. You shake them away, but Suguru is observant. “He would only be so lucky to fuck you.”

“Do you think I’m really so pretty? When you have others that…”

“The prettiest. Prettiest tits, prettiest face, prettiest pussy.” You melt then, because no matter what fun you all have, it’s always together (exceptions would be when you all agree video is okay) and Suguru always makes you feel special. Maybe you worry too much.

“What if you find someone better?”

“Baby, what’s up with you?” He pulls back and you just sigh. “If this isn’t what you want just tell me...”

“I’m just down on myself.” You pout, and you watch Suguru's concern.

“I know, baby, I am so sorry.” He kisses you sweetly, and you melt, like you always do. “I’ll make sure he’s not a dick anymore. I swear. Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna go, though.”

“Then he wins, fuck that, go and look super hot, and ruin his little pea size brain okay?” You laugh just a bit, but things weigh on you.

Your relationship with Geto is so easy…

Aside from his dick of a friend.

Who hates you.

And who you're vividly picturing. Fuck.

Present

You keep your hands to yourself, your knees knocking together as you watch the game, the men running back and forth, dribbling the ball, throwing it, their sneakers squeaking on polished floors. Your eyes keep drifting over to him, though, and you notice Satoru’s eyes keep straying to your body, making you overheat.

The way his gaze lingers on your legs makes you squirm in your seat, and you can’t help but feel a thrill run through you, despite the tension. His icy glare is gone now, replaced with something softer, something that makes your stomach flip, his lips weren’t in a thin line, they were pouting just a bit. Suguru has a hand on your thigh, and he squeezes it, smiling.

You smile back at him. Why were you in the middle? Was this Suguru’s idea of making you all closer? But why does Satoru’s thigh brushing against yours do insane things to your psyche? Why does the scent of his cologne make you ache to snuggle him when he’s a damn asshole, when he would never want that.

You adore Suguru, when you met him at first it intimidated you, this wild lifestyle he led, but then he made you feel so good, and so included, that you ended up enjoying much of it. And several times now he’d brought up sharing you, only recently today sharing you with him . If Satoru didn’t hate you and call you unattractive, absolutely you would have.

But as it stood, you could tell he hates sitting next to you.

“I’m grabbing drinks, want one Princess?” Suguru asks, touching your hand to shake you out of your reverie. You have to strain to hear him in the loud throngs of the crowd cheering.

“I’ll go-”

“It’s fine, I got it. Satoru, you want a drink?” Satoru peers over at you, and you don’t see the usual anger, it’s a different look. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s different for sure.

“Yeah, can you just grab me a beer?” Suguru nods, looking back at you again, and you fidget, afraid to be alone with Satoru, even in a crowd.

“Same, please and thanks.” He smiles, leaning down and kissing you then, and he walks away, leaving the two of you awkwardly alone.

The team hits a big play, and you jump up with your little pom poms, wiggling them in the air, as Satoru jumps and shouts loudly. You all bump into each other a bit, and it makes you both tense, pulling away a bit. You scooch further from him when you all sit down again, but he spreads his stupidly long legs even wider, his hand resting next to you.

“I’m sorry I came along.” You say softly, and he looks back at you, sighing a bit, and his eyes make you lose your senses for a moment.

“Don’t be. Suguru wouldn’t come without you.” He brushes that off, so casually, and though that was the truth it was a little harsh to know.

“He would have, I would have made him.”

“Yeah well. It’s not like I’m paying attention to you, I’m watching the game anyway, so it doesn't matter.”

“Yeah, true. Though I wish Suguru would sit here.”

“Don’t like to sit next to me huh?” You roll your eyes, irritated by his haughty tone, and laugh just a bit, without humor.

“As if you like this.” He just studies you, and you almost wish he’d just be mean, because that’s easier to handle than whatever this intense fucking look is.

“Have I complained?”

“Because Suguru asked you to not be so mean.”

“Yeah well.”

No apology, of course. When would someone like Satoru Gojo apologize to you, of all people? You peer over at him in that white dress shirt and those slacks that hug him like a glove, his shades shoved up on his head worth more than your life. The glinting gold watch, where his sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms with veins wrapped around them.

You turn your attention back to the game, which was going into a bit of a break, leaving you even more awkward next to the man who hates you.

“Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you hate me so much? Like… did I offend you or something? Could you please just tell me what to do here?” You’re whispering it, since the words make you emotional, and Satoru’s lips turn down, brushing his silvery hair back with a hand, messing it up just a bit.

“You don’t need to know.” He says, and you glare then.

“I think I have a right to know. I can fix it? Maybe?”

“Can’t fix this.”

“Let me try maybe? I want to meet this amazing, funny, sweet guy Suguru swears you are, the one he loves so much.” You reach your hand out to his thigh, and he glares at it, then at you, his hand yanking yours off then, by your delicate wrist. You blink in confusion.

“You can’t fix why I hate you. Got it? And that doesn’t help. Makes it so much fucking worse.” He mumbles, not letting go of your wrist, his huge hand gripping it, taking it over.

“Sorry.”

“Why, you didn’t do anything. I hate you for nothing that you can control, does that make it better, knowing that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You make no sense. If you just tried to know me, you’d see I’m not the worst person ever. Regardless of how you think of my looks, you won’t even give me a chance internally.”

He lets your wrist go, sighing and looking into your eyes, but there’s not the usual anger even now. “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday.”

“Thank you for that. Even if you feel that way it’s just not nice to tell people that they’re… unattractive. Promise I say it in my own mind enough.”

“Then you’re stupid.”

“So I’m unattractive, and stupid, and you hate me.” You look down, those words wrecking you again, and you try not to show any emotion.

“You really think you’re not beautiful?” Your eyes meet, and he looks angry, again at you. You sigh, as your inner turmoil rages looking at him.

“I don’t think I’m beautiful at all. Lately I have been feeling pretty, thanks to Suguru, but that’s kind of new. It doesn’t matter anyway. If you think I’m ugly you don’t have to say it, or judge me for it. It doesn’t matter as much as who I am.”

“So you think what I said is true?”

“I’m sure you and Suguru both get much prettier girls. It’s fine. You’re both very attractive men.” Satoru stares at you more, and it makes you feel so confused, so weird, he won’t stop looking right at you. “What!?”

“You’re not unattractive. At all. I can’t believe I have to say this.”

“You don’t have to. Suguru put you up to-”

“You’re so beautiful all I can think of is how I wanna bury my cock in your pretty mouth.” His words are dangerous whispers, his hands gripping your thighs tight suddenly, and you can’t even think, your body reacting instantly, embarrassingly. “Can’t stop thinking about how badly I wanna fuck you over my desk. How I’d lick that little cunt right now with this stupid skirt driving me nuts.”

“Satoru… what…” You hate what his words do, what this asshole friend of your boyfriend says, his effect. Your nipples are taut against your bra, your tummy feeling that pressure, thighs shifting, and his gaze drops to them like a hawk.

“That’s why I hate you. Because all I think of is fucking my best friend’s girl. And yeah, he even brought it up, what you all do. Wanna know what I think?” He’s brushing your hair back behind your ear, and you’re losing all sense of self, everything fades to the background.

“What do you think?” He laughs, darkly then, his white teeth glinting from the bright fluorescents above.

“That if I had you I’d never want anyone else. That if I had to share you I’d be greedy. I’d lick you first, fuck you first, fuck you so good you can’t even think, can’t even walk. Wreck that little cunt.” His husky words shoot straight through you, the way he looks at you, this hunger in his gaze, it’s insane.

“Are you just fucking with me, Gojo? Is this a joke?” You demand through gritted teeth, and then he laughs again, but it doesn’t hit his eyes, the pupils so dilated the blue was truly hard to handle.

“I wish it was. I hate you because you’re you . You can’t fucking fix it, you can’t buy me expensive tickets, smile at me all pretty, it all makes it worse. Makes me want you more. And so I just hate you completely.”

You take a moment, struggling to process anything he was even saying, as your gaze drifts down his long, lithe body. Although you’d seen Suguru with women, and you’d been with women, you had never felt something like this, intense need clawing away at you. Even with Suguru, who you have such a good time with, you never felt whatever this is.

Was it hate?

What was it?

“I know, you’re so in love you won’t even fuck another guy when Suguru asks too. Loyal when he’s not.”

“We do everything together, or… like I know what he does. He doesn’t hide shit from me, Gojo. He treats me so good.”

“I am sure he does. He’s the best person I know. I just can’t see a world where I have you and want someone.”

His words hit too hard. It's so shocking from his usually cruel lips. “That’s crazy talk, you know, especially…”

“I didn’t mean what I said. Okay? Fucking stupid to think I did.”

“Aw you two are making up, huh?” Suguru sits next to you, handing you both a drink then, and you and Satoru tense up, as your mind whirls. “So, you all gonna fuck this frustration out or what?”

Your eyes go wide with shock, mouth dropping, and you shake your head quickly while you look at him. “Suguru, you can’t be serious about this.”

“Why not. Shoko is coming over tomorrow anyway, why don't we three party tonight.” He winks over at Satoru then.

“You’re gonna fuck Shoko, yuck.”

“Yep and you’re gonna fuck Princess here.” He pats your head, smiling, his eyes closing so adorably like he isn’t talking insane. “What, why can’t you have fun?”

“She doesn’t wanna fuck me.” Satoru says casually, and you gulp then, as he straight up says something so…

False.

“Are you sure about that?” Suguru murmurs, brushing your hair back until it is no longer on your chest, pulling your top back just a bit, and you feel yourself heating up when he’s got your hard nipples basically pressed against the top now. Satoru’s sultry blue gaze hits your breasts, lingering there. “Looks pretty excited to me.”

“Suguru!” You hiss, scowling back at his devious grin, but Satoru is licking his lower lip, making it all glossy, and one of his hands keeps clenching and unclenching into a fist.

“Nothing could make me happier than you two getting along, at least give it a chance. What if you like it, hmm?” He’s nuzzling your neck, and you shift in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.

“So you think I’ll fuck her and stop hating her?” Satoru drawls out the words slowly, and Suguru is just rubbing up and down your waist, heightening every insane sensation.

“It’s so good I know you will.”

“Suguru… I doubt that.” You mumble, shyly fidgeting with your thumbs, rolling them around over and over.

“What if I still hate her? Do I get to keep fucking her?” Satoru’s question throws you for a loop, the intent behind his stupidly pretty gaze washing over you, and you feel Suguru’s chuckle behind you.

“No, you have to be nice to her if you want to again.” You scowl at him, then over at Gojo.

“Do I not get a say? I’m not a fuck toy.” You hiss, and Gojo actually smiles then, and it surprises you, how pretty it is. Suguru kisses your neck, laughing against it, while you nervously sip your drink.

“Being out fuck toy does sound fun.” Suguru says softly. “It would be fun for you, too, don’t you think?”

“You really want me to wreck her? She won’t even want you again.” Satoru says, grinning, and Suguru just laughs, grinning back.

“Yeah, you can try but we all know it’s not happening.”

“Have I agreed?”

“Bet she’s soaked.” Suguru is lifting your skirt, in the middle of a game, even though you all were off in a section this was insane, and Satoru’s eyes dart down between your thighs, and you can’t hold in the little whine. “Feel her and find out for me, would you?”

“She doesn’t want me to.” Satoru’s voice is husky, then you feel your thin control snap, as you say fuck it all and take his hand. You meet his shocked gaze, then you look around, and put his hand on your thigh.

“Stop acting like you know me, Gojo.” You raise your brows then, and his smirk eats at you, his thumb sliding against your soft inner thigh making goosebumps prick along your skin.

“Y’know this is the most you have gotten along.”

“Am I up to caliber, though?” You whisper those words, and Gojo’s hand slides even further up, all while his other hand brushes against your hip, nearly touching Suguru’s hand.

“We’ll have to see huh?”

“Cocky little shit.”

“Oooh, so she does have some backbone huh?” Satoru’s grinning at you, with those sharp fangs glinting, lashes lowering over his eyes. And you feel Suguru’s grip tighten on your waist.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” Suguru snorts behind you.

“Okay… sex?” You both scowl over to Suguru again.

Sex, with Satoru Gojo?

“Why don’t you just fuck him, hmm?”

“Who’s to say he hasn’t?” Satoru blows Suguru a kiss and you sigh.

“Am I really gonna do this! With Satoru Gojo?”

“You should be so lucky, damn brat-”

“Satoru….” Suguru starts again, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Listen, I didn’t turn it down.” He slides his hand fully up, and when his thumb presses where you’re hot and sticky against your panties, his breath hitches, as does yours, both of you just stare at each other, unable to speak. For a long moment, until his thumb rubs in a gentle circle and you damn near whimper.

Fuck.

Yep you were going to do this.

***

In the car on the way home you are sitting next to Satoru and Suguru as their driver Kiyotaka takes you all back to Suguru’s place. Satoru is oddly quiet, you notice, poking around on his phone. You know he still hates you, but his hand is casually on your thigh now, rubbing in little circles, and Suguru is smiling down at you, popping little kisses on your forehead.

“You sure like her thighs for hating her so much.” Suguru murmurs lazily, and Satoru smirks, not looking up from his phone.

“I didn’t say I hate her body. Quite the opposite.” You struggle against the feelings raging inside of you. You had never done anything like this, as wild as you and Suguru were with women, it seemed so different, especially with Satoru. His hands are so big, even bigger than Suguru���s, his fingers are so long they take up most of your thigh.

“You like my legs hmm?” You say softly, and Satoru does lift his gaze from his phone, amused expression clear on his features.

“They’re really short, but they’re nice.” You laugh a bit at that, and it’s the first time you think you’ve laughed around him. His grip tightens a bit at the sound.

“Is that almost a compliment?” He shrugs a shoulder, poking back at his phone then.

“Bet they’d be nice around my face.” Your tummy clenches again at the words, at the imagery, and Suguru seems to pick up on that, his hand coming to your other thigh now, bringing your attention to him.

“You like that idea, Princess?” His voice is teasing, and you gulp, trying not to give Satoru so much satisfaction. But you just give a little nod. “Look at you two, I’m so proud right now.”

“Okay dad.” Satoru leans back some, his thighs even wider, god could he just sit normal you wonder, not pressed so against you. Suguru is the same way, and you’re pressed in the middle of the two of them, your body viscerally reacts, to the point you’re overheated.

“Wonder who you’ll call daddy?” Suguru teases you, and you flush.

“It’ll be me.” Satoru says, cocky and self assured.

“Nah, totally me.”

“Neither of you.” You say, crossing your arms, and they both look at each other, then back at you, grinning.

“You challenging us right now? That won’t end well for you.” Satoru says softly, leaning close, your breath catches with how he looks at you, so intent, his lips tempting you too closely.

Before you can speak, you’ve pulled up to Suguru’s place, and you thankfully can get out of the car, breathe air, but you now have no clue what you’re in for. The way Satoru’s hungry, lewd gaze and Suguru’s easy seductive one glaze over your body, the heat you clearly feel from both of them, the tension between the man who hates you and the man that really likes you…

What are you in for?

And in what world does it end well?”

***

Satoru’s POV

Satoru watches as Suguru leads you, hand in hand to his sleek condo, and as he looks around he wonders, where does he fuck you, where does he lick you? Where does he fuck other women with you? And why the fuck does that thought make him so angry for you. He loves Suguru, and he himself was quite open sexually, this isn’t the first time he and Suguru would share.

But he can’t even imagine having to take turns.

He wants to bring you back to his place, to fuck you senseless, make you forget anything you ever knew. He’d felt your heat, felt that sticky wetness, your soft skin… it was something that he had avoided, touching you in any way. He knew it would make everything ten times worse, and so it did.

When you turn to look up at him, with your gorgeous eyes, your lips parted just slightly, hair a little messy from the day, falling softly around your face… it takes everything in him not to throw you against a wall and fuck into you. It takes every effort not to snatch you up and literally be a horrible friend, take you away, this is what you do to him.

It’s why he hates you.

What effect did you have? And how the fuck could he take turns on you? But he can’t turn it down, no, he needs to feel you, and if this is how it happens, he’ll do it. Satoru Gojo is desperate for you, and that’s something he’s never been in his life, shit came easy for him. Why were you so difficult?

“Drinks? Let’s get drinks.” Suguru pats Satoru on the shoulder, then pats you on the ass, pressing you two together a bit. You look down shyly, long lashes casting shadows on your pretty features.

God you’re perfect, aren’t you?

“Still hate you.” Satoru mumbles, and you just look at him, brows furrowing a little bit, licking your lips and tempting him to no end. How would they feel on his cock, that little tongue sliding against his tip?

“I know you hate me. So why are you doing this?” You whisper, as you two awkwardly stand in Suguru’s living room alone, far too close. Satoru towers over you, you’re so small compared to him. He sees you’re nervous too.

“You’re stupid.” You scowl up at him, and fuck if you’re not stupidly hot when you do so. “I already told you why.”

“But it’s… not… you won’t… what if you don’t like it?” You mumble, and he watches insecurities eat you alive, how had he not noticed before? He just assumed because you’re so pretty you knew.

“What, you need practice sucking dick? Heard you like to eat pussy.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Or are you a pillow Princess?”

“I like to please.” Your eyes hit his body then, desire reflected in them, and he itches to touch you, he itches to be sweet to you, but he can’t. Nope.

“We’ll see if it’s passable. If not, I'll give some tips.” You laugh, a little bark of laughter, shaking your head.

“Suguru likes it just fine.”

“I sure do. She’s great at blow jobs.” Suguru hands you both a drink, and Satoru can’t stop his gaze locked on those supple, full lips of yours. “Guess what, believe it or not Satoru’s good at eating pussy. From what I’ve seen. But, I’m better.”

“No way, you know I’d win.” Suguru looks at you, and you’re all flushed in the cheeks as you delicately sip your drink. Why is every movement you make just torturing him?

“He’s really, really good though. Licked an accidental I love you out of me.” You tease, and Suguru laughs at that, but you look a little sad he notices.

“Ya didn’t say it back, Sugu?” Suguru grows serious for a moment at Satoru’s obvious question.

“It’s just still early, and she kind of… took it back.”

“I was embarrassed for sure.”

Imagine those words from your lips. Satoru’s grip is so tight on the glass he feels it will just break, shutting his eyes for a moment and sucking in a breath. Was he really going down this path, knowing what would happen when you would touch him, when he would taste you? Knowing he’d get more obsessed, fuck it was just so much easier to hate you.

But how could he turn it down?

It would be such a shitshow but so worth it.

“We’ll have to see who’s better, huh?” Suguru teases, smirking over at Satoru, and he just eyes your perfect little form slowly, humming to himself.

“First, less clothes.” Satoru says softly, and watches your nervous habits, how you bite your lower lip so hard you leave teeth marks, how your hands tremble as you set your drink down. “You're scared, huh?”

“Nope. Sure not.” He smirks at you, but that freezes when you slip your shaky little fingers to your top, popping open one button, then the other, and he has to grip the fuck out of the counter next to him. Your soft, supple skin is revealed with each one, until your breasts spill out, just left in a lacy blue bra.

Fuck he could cum just seeing you.

“Not bad.” He is so full of shit, and Suguru is rolling his eyes, you blink a little, looking down. Fuck he hates himself. But if he’s sweet to you… “Let’s see the rest then I’ll judge.”

“She’s beautiful.” Suguru comes and you lift your long hair out of the way, and he easily unsnaps your bra, then slides it down your shoulders, kissing them, the way Satoru wants to, but he wouldn’t be gentle like Suguru, not if you were his. He would suck and bite every inch of your skin. “There we go, Princess.”

He lets your bra fall to the floor, and you’re bare from the waist up, and he sees them then, your lush breasts, perfect and pretty. Your little nipples are puffy and pronounced, begging for his mouth on them, for his fingers to pinch them. And you just stand there, your shoulders set high, as Satoru eats you up, and fuck if you’re not the most perfect thing he’s seen.

Suguru looks at Satoru, his dark eyes seductive in their glint, as if he could tell how badly Satoru wants you. Your perfect breasts are heaving with your panting little breaths, while Suguru is running his hands down your slender little arms. You look at Satoru, then Suguru, then down, as if you’re a little shy finally.

“Um… up to caliber?” You ask, and he hears it, the bitterness in your sultry little voice. And you should be bitter, mad, fuck you shouldn’t let him see this, should you? But here you are, and you look so fucking gorgeous he can’t take it.

He steps up to you then, taking two fingers and tilting your chin up, looking into those eyes he’d made cry yesterday. “Gorgeous.”

You gasp, and Suguru grins then, pecking a little kiss on your neck, as Satoru’s hands trail down your face, your throat, that delicate collarbone, and he watches your breaths increase. He can hear that little whine you try to hide from the back of your throat, he can feel your energy, your heat near him.

“Told you, baby. You’re beautiful.” Suguru is right, of course he is, and Satoru is damn near speechless at a pair of tits, it’s pathetic. You make him pathetic, don’t you, it’s why…

He should hate you.

No he does hate you.

But…

“Thank you… both.” You whisper, and Satoru doesn’t deserve your thanks, for one stupid word, when you were so much more.

You should hate him.

Why don’t you?

“Why don’t you feel them, Satoru? How nice they are.” Suguru is running his hand around your waist, pressing your breasts up then, and you’re crying out softly, that pleasure on your face making you so sexy. Satoru’s hands slide down, and he feels them, the weight in his hands, and he can’t hold back his own moan then.

Your eyes fly to his, as he cups your breasts in his big hands, and he sees it then, clear as fucking day. You want him. As his thumbs brush your nipples, and your head leans back, for Suguru’s mouth to kiss up the side of it, one of your little hands clutch his shirt, pulling him closer, the other, on one of Suguru’s arms.

“Perfect.” Satoru says softly, and you gasp, but then Satoru leans so close to your lips, you start to shake in Suguru’s hold.

“Perfect.” Suguru agrees, and Satoru watches you melt then, as his lips descend, and he can taste your sweet breath on his lips, it intoxicates him to no end. “You gonna kiss him, Princess?”

You lean up, as he leans down, and your hand slides up to Satoru’s face then, so tiny, a thumb swiping over his lower lip, and then Satoru’s eyelids are low over his eyes, as he presses his lips to yours. You moan at it, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear, vibrating his lips, and then Satoru knows it, knows it when he melts into your kiss, knows it when his tongue swipes into your hot mouth.

It’s all over for him.

And he hates you for it.

***

Your POV

Satoru’s lips send electrical sparks through yours, it’s absolutely insane, as his big hands knead your breasts, and Suguru is hard against your lower back, his big hands on your hips, pressing. But when Satoru’s tongue slides in your mouth, and you drink in his moans? When you taste his breath, when you feel that slick start to dribble from your little cunt?

Fuck. This is bad, it’s bad. It’s bad.

“Hate you.” He whispers then, right on your lips, right when his eyes drink you in lazily, when he squishes your breasts in his hands. It was so quiet you don’t even think he spoke, more moved his lips and you understood.

Satoru Gojo hates you.

Right?

Chapter 2

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

[checkeredflagggs]

Glazed and Confused

Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader

Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel

a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)

a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could

Pottery Made Easy has posted

potterymadeeasy

liked by user1, user2, and 2316 others

pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!

view all comments

user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄😬)

user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…

user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄

user2: unfortunately

user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?

potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2

user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece

potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!

user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!

user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…

potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!

user3: faints bless you

user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you

user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris

user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris

user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris

user9: would hate to be his cleaner…

lnupdates

liked by user5, user6, user7, and 1,897,455 others

lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch

view all comments

user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another

user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words

user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos

user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them

user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!

user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵

user7: oh my god right?!?

user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?

user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh

user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!

user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end

Bluesky

Private DMs

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,790,469 others

landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go

view all comments

user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!

user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now

user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl

user14: and an “artistic” vase!

oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time

landonorris: mate…

oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough

landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments

charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there

landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present

charles_leclerc: 👎🏻

alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂

landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?

user15: yes

user16: yes

oscarpiastri: yes

charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻

georgerussell63: yes

alex_albon: yes!!

maxverstappen1: yes

danielricciardo: yes!

carlossainz55: yes!

landonorris: you freaking muppets!

user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?

user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?

user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?

user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?

landonorris

liked by potterymadeeasy, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 2,723,944 others

landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it

view all comments

user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!

user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING

user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz

potterymadeeasy: those look great!

landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉

user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?

user22: thoughts are being thunk

user23: unthunk those thoughts right now

user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn

user23: nurse she’s out again!

user21: really? Under my comment thread?

user24: I’ve connected the dots.

user25: you’ve connected shit

user24: no I’ve connected them

user25: god get a life

charles_leclerc: congrats!

carlossainz55: it only took a few months…

alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels

georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies

landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car

mclaren: legally this is a joke

landonorris

liked by potterymadeeasy, danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 2,922,713 others

landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills

view all comments

user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE

user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces

user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring

user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key

oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too

landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually

oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks

landonorris: 🙃

oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way

landonorris: thanks mate!

oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up

landonorris: you muppet!

danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?

landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?

danielricciardo: in encouragement?

landonorris: 😑

danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?

landonorris: fine 🙄

user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!

landonorris: 😂🧡😉

user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?

landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user29: SIR!

maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?

landonorris: not actually for you!

maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏

landonorris: …who are you and where is max?

maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special

landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡

maxverstappen1: 💔

potterymadeeasy: those look good!

landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡

potterymadeeasy: flatterer

landonorris: always 😉

User22: !!!

User23: shut up shut up shut up

landonorris

liked by yourpriv, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 3,123,321 others

landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!

listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.

Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!

view all comments

user30: I’m? Crying? 😭

user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…

user32: we’re excited for you too!

user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?

user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page

used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕

oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible

landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support

oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work

user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces

alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!

landonorris: thanks i think

alex_albon: no problem!

alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good

landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew

alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?

landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures

alex_albon: on it 🫡

landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person

albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors

user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?

user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?

landonorris: 🫢🤫

user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS

landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨

yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.

landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you

yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own

landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.

yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹

landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡

yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun

maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next

landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅

maxverstappen1: you know it!

landonorris

liked by yourpriv, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,997,245 others

tagged: yourpriv, potterymadeeasy

landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!

comments have been limited on this post

potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!

landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris: love ya!

potterymadeeasy:…love you too!

[rafesfavgirl]

little old me — r. cameron

soooooo my deepest, darkest, most impulsive thoughts may have won over with this one. hopefully you like it or at the very least, understand why i wrote it :)

❝ who’s afraid of little old me? you should be. ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x dark!reader

context: rafe comes to realize you’re more like him than he thought.

words: 3k+

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. murder, dark!rafe, psycho!rafe, psycho!reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sub!rafe (kind of, but not really), choking, praise kink, cutting, stabbing, blood, violence, blood play (idek if it counts tbh), dark fluff (is that even a thing?), SMUT with fucked up plot… rafe and reader being crazy, basically

you stood by the bar beside your best friend, engaged in conversation about some guy who'd pissed her off today by standing her up on a date, your eyes focused on the scene behind her head, where your boyfriend sat on the couch in the living room, a girl with short brown hair beside him, trying to cling onto his arm.

you feel your grip around your glass tighten, as the girl's hand gets closer and closer to wrapping around rafe's bicep.

"do you know who that girl is?" you cut your best friend off in the middle of her sentence and she snaps her head to what or who you're looking at.

"oh, that's sofia," she tells you, taking a sip of her drink. "she works as a bartender at the club. always flirting with top, kelce, and rafe. why? you jealous?"

heat rises in your chest at the mention of the girl constantly flirting with rafe, but you play it off. "please," a scoff leaves your mouth. "you know he knows better."

you take sip of your drink, and pull out your phone to text rafe.

you: if that sofia girl touches you one more time, i stg i'm dragging her ass across the floor

rafe: chill baby

rafe: you won't

you click your tongue and type away, your best friend watching your every move.

"you good?" she asks.

"mhm," you hum, sending the message.

you: you think i'm kidding?

you: try me, bitch.

you look up to find rafe snickering at your text, which only pisses you off more as he texts you back.

rafe: shut the fuck up, and get over here.

you: fuck no. tell her my drink's empty.

rafe watches as you down the rest of your drink and set the glass down on the bar, before waltzing away and heading outside, throwing him a glare as you do. he rolls his eyes at your antics, but gets up to follow you anyway.

“where the fuck are you going?” he calls after you, trailing closely behind as you cross the front lawn. “you came here with me.”

“i’ll call an uber,” you reply, continuing to walk towards the road. “go back inside and let sofia touch you some more.”

“oh my god,” he groans and catches up to you, grabbing onto your wrist to make you stop and look at him. “will you quit being a brat?”

you tilt your head up at him, fire in your eyes as they lock with his. “and what are you gonna do if i don’t?”

—

a moan slips out of your mouth as your back hits rafe's bedroom door, making it slam shut—thank god, his family had gone to the bahamas—as he kissed you like a man starved.

"still got more to say about sofia?" he says against you, lips trailing down to your neck, and hands trailing up your thighs to hook them around his waist. "jump."

you do as you're told, your legs locking around him and your fingers tangling into his hair, as your lips connected again and rafe's hands trailed up your back—one pressing you against him and one sliding up your hair.

he turns and lets you fall onto the bed with him above you, your legs still locked around him, as he began untying the knot in your shirt. he pushes it off of you, revealing your lacy white bra.

"fuckkk y/n," he groans, hand reaching up to grab at one of your tits.

"you like it baby?" you ask, as he trails wet kisses down your neck and collar bone. "it's new."

"i love it," he says, fingers unclasping it from the front, and lips moving to wrap around your now exposed nipple.

his other hand massages your other boob, finger flicking at your sensitive nub.

you pull him up to attach his lips back to yours. "i want you, rafe. now."

he chuckles against your lips, the vibration turning you on more, the spot between your legs getting wetter. you flip the both of you over so you're straddling him. 

"i like this side of you, doll," he looks up at you with a smirk as you rid yourself of your bra, and he reaches up to grab both your tits. "should make you jealous more often."

"shut up," you say, leaning back down to kiss him, hands entwining into his hair as your hips press down into his.

a groan falls from his mouth as his hands roam over your body, your hard nipples pressing against him.

"need you, pretty girl," he said, hips lifting into yours.

"more than sofia?" you ask, pulling your lips away from his.

"more than anyone," he replies, hands snaking around the front of your waist to unbutton your shorts.

you move to the side so he can tug them off your legs, along with your lacy white thong, while you reach to pull his shirt off his head and he takes off his shorts.

you swing your leg back over him once you're both naked, hovering and grinding your hips above him, slickness coating his dick just enough to tease him.

"doll, come on," he whines, attempting to press you down onto his length.

you place both your hands on his chest and lean down towards his ear. "this'll teach you not to make me jealous."

"y/n…" his voice is much serious now, and you smirk.

"what?" you look at him with innocent eyes, hand trailing down to grab his dick and align it with your center.

you slowly sink down onto him, your body relaxing as he groans.

"so so good," you mewl, hips rocking against his.

he watches you closely, hands moving to grip your hips. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down, eliciting a moan from your mouth.

"move, pretty girl," he demands, eyes locked on yours as you sit up. "let me see you ride me."

you give in to his words and begin bouncing your ass on him, hands trailing down to his abs to steady yourself. up. down. up. down. up. down.

"just like that, doll," rafe says, hand trailing up your body to wrap around your neck. "you look so pretty riding my cock."

that only makes you pick up the pace, hands moving to rest on his thighs behind you, as your pussy clenches around his length, your orgasm quickly building up in your core. rafe's hands move to grab your tits as you continue, his eyes watching himself slip in and out of you.

"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he asked when you threw your head back in pleasure.

"cum with me, rafe," you moan, your high inching closer and closer.

his fingers pinch at your nipples and that sends you over the edge, your hips slowing down as your high washes over you. rafe follows soon after, thrusts getting sloppier as he comes down.

 you slowly move off to lay beside him, and he reaches out to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a small towel. he uses it to clean the spot between your legs before cleaning off himself.

you position yourself under his comforter as he tosses the towel on the ground and joins you.

"remember how good my pussy feels around you next time you let sofia touch you," you say, snuggling into him.

a small chuckles falls from his lips as he wraps an arm around you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. "good night, crazy girl."

—

your eyes shoot open at the sound of rafe’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand, as the sunshine peeked through his bedroom curtains.

making sure not to wake him, you reach over to grab his phone, rage boiling through your veins when you read the notifications on the screen.

3 missed calls from sofia.

sofia: hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday lol. lmk if you need to blow off some steam ;) xx

“oh, this bitch needs to be put down,” you mutter to yourself, immediately unlocking rafe’s phone—he gave you his passcode months ago without you even asking—and typing away to reply to sofia's message.

rafe: hey sof :) yeah, she's a lot. how 'bout you meet me at tannyhill around 2 today?

you hit send, and the three bubbles appear almost immediately.

god, this bitch was desperate.

sofia: perf, i'll see you then!!

rafe: just knock when you get here, i'll be home alone

sofia: you got it, see u later xx

you roll your eyes and proceed to delete the conversation, before moving to rafe's phone app to remove her 3 missed calls from his log. 

three. who calls a guy with a girlfriend three times? crazy bitch.

just as you're about to place his phone back on the nightstand, rafe groans and shifts, arm slinging over your waist, as a call from ward vibrates his phone.

"baby," you nudge rafe, but he just groans again, arm around your waist tightening. "rafe," you shake him this time and his eyes flutter open.

"morning, pretty girl," he smiles, hand scratching your lower back. "you ok?"

"mhm," you nod, pretending you had just woken up. "woke up from your dad calling, though."

you hold the phone out to him, which was now vibrating for the second time with ward's name.

"sorry 'bout that, doll," he takes the phone from you and sits up, answering the call and pressing the phone up against his ear.

"i'm gonna go pee," you mouth to him, and he nods, as you get out from under the covers and slip on rafe's shirt before walking towards his bathroom.

you close the door behind you and take a quick piss before washing your hands and deciding to brush your teeth.

hopefully rafe wasn't gonna be around the house at 2 today, you thought. you knew he went out golfing with the boys and hit the gym afterwards every saturday afternoon, usually returning around 5 or 6, so it shouldn't be a problem. unless ward had him do something today that required him to stick around the house—now that would really put a damper on your plans.

the door opens and rafe joins you, only wearing a pair of boxers. "mmm," he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder. "i'll never get sick of seeing you in my shirt."

his eyes meets yours through the mirror, and you lean down to spit and rinse your mouth.

"what's my baby doing today?" he asked, as you wiped your mouth dry.

"probably just hang around here," you shrug, hands trailing along his arms, as you leaned your head against his. "maybe lay out by the pool for a bit and make some lunch."

"for me too?"

you look down at him, and his eyes meet yours. "you're not going golfing with kelce and top?"

"oh, i am," he nods. "and i gotta take care of some stuff for dad too, so i'll probably be home a little later." perfect. "how 'bout we do dinner? you can dress up all cute and sexy, and i'll take you out on the town?"

"sounds perfect, baby," you smile, connecting your lips with his.

this was gonna be the best day ever.

—

after rafe left around eleven, you occupied yourself by taking a quick swim in the pool, before settling on a floatie and closing your eyes, as the sun beat down on your skin.

ring! ring! ring!

your alarm clock goes off at 1:50 pm, and you open your eyes to take your phone from the cup holder and silence it, happily slipping off the floatie when you realize it's almost time.

you grab your towel from one of the pool chairs and dry off before wrapping it around you, slipping on your crochet shorts, and waltzing inside with more of a pep in your step than usual.

you whistle as you walk through the house and stop in the living room to hang your towel off the back of the armchair and sit down, just in time for a knock to come at the door.

it's followed by another, before the front door creaks open and closes, as the sound of someone's footsteps get closer and closer.

"rafe?" the sound of sofia's voice fills your ears and you smile when she reaches the living room.

"hey, sof," you say, causing her to completely stop in her tracks, a few feet away.

"oh, y/n," she was clearly caught off guard. "i didn't know you'd be here."

"of course you didn't," you shrug, sitting up. "because you came here to see my rafe, isn't that right, sof?"

"uhh…"

"no need to lie, sweetheart," you drawl. "i've been expecting you." you pull out the pocket knife that you had stashed in the armchair earlier  to prepare and spin it around in your fingers.

the color instantly drains from sofia's face, as you flip the knife open, the blade catching the sun's light.

"here's the thing, sof," you stand up and slowly approach her, the growing crazy look in your eyes making her uneasy. "i'm a very possessive person, and i don't like sharing what's mine." you shake your head, eyes focused on hers.

"and rafe… tall and handsome as he is… is mine," you glide the edge of your knife across her collarbone as you round her, making sure not to cut her just yet. "and personally, i didn't take it very well when you called and texted him this morning."

"i- i don't know what you're talking about," her voice shakes, clearly afraid of what you might do if she admits to it. 

"hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday. let me know if you want to blow off some steam," you recite the text message she sent rafe from memory, making her breath hitch.

"that— that wasn't an accident," sofia shakes her head. "i didn't mean-"

"oh, baby," you whisper against her ear, making her head turn towards you. "don't you know i hate liars?"

"please," sofia begs, eyes closing shut as tears stream down her face. "y/n… you don't have to do this."

"and you didn't have to text my man," you tut, trailing the knife down her back. "but you did, so i'll make it quick."

"no!" she shouts, pushing you away from her, and beelining for the door.

"you really shouldn't have done that," you chuckle, a smirk coming across your lips, as you follow to tackle her before she reaches the door.

you turn her around, so you're straddling her, both your knees pinning her arms down. "i tried to be nice…" you say, gripping a handful of her brown hair as you lean down to cut across her collar bone.

she screams in agony. "stop, stop, stop!"

"consider this a lesson, sof…" you trail off, knife moving down to dig into the side of her stomach. "rafe," stab. "is," stab. "mine." 

you pull the knife out from her side, blood splattering on your stomach, as you drag it up her body, towards her chest.

"and," stab. "you," stab. "don't," stab. "take," stab. "what's," stab. "mine."

the color drowns from her face as her eyes turn lifeless, and she stops squirming underneath you.

at this point, your chest, face, legs, and arms are covered with blood splatters, your hand holding the knife bloodier than any other part of you.

you stand up and hover over her, a smirk coming across your lips at the sight of her dead body.

"look, dad, i took care of it, a'ight?" the familiar sound of your boyfriend's voice booms through the house, as you hear the backyard door slide close.

shit. shit. shit.

he wasn't suppose to be home until later. what the fuck was he doing here?

panic begins to build up inside you, as rafe's footsteps approach you, and you round sofia's body to pick up one of her hands to begin dragging her towards the front door. maybe it was a good thing she tried to run.

"yeah, i got it," you hear rafe's voice again. "i think y/n's taking a nap right now, so i'll take the druthers out and-" he suddenly stops in the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen, eyes on you. "i'll call you back later."

he ends the call with ward, phone coming down to his side.

"i told you i'd drag her across the floor?" you joke, shrugging a shoulder.

"holy shit, y/n!" rafe rushes over and crouches down to feel sofia's pulse.

nothing.

he looks up at you. "did you do this?!"

"no…" you give him your innocent eyes, and drop her hand, pocket knife hiding behind your back.

"what the fuck, babe?"

"hey, don't act like this is all on me!" you argue, pointing down at sofia's body and pacing around the room. "she was the one who was texting and calling you nonstop this morning! she should've known better! no one takes what's mine. especially not you!"

"you— you did this… because of me?" rafe slowly stands, eyes refocusing on your crazed out state.

"of course i did," your shoulders falling limp. "i— i love you, rafe!" you shake your head. "i— i can't lose you. not-"

before you could get another word out, he was pushing you up against the wall, lips hungrily kissing yours.

the knife clatters onto the ground, as your bloodied hands tangle into his hair, and he hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it up beside his waist.

"you— you're not mad?" you ask between kisses.

"are you kidding?" he mutters against you. "fuck no. just a little more work for me."

"wait, wait, wait—" you place a hand on his chest, and push him away just enough to look at him. "what does that mean?"

"there may or may not be a dead body in the cargo bed of my truck…"

"you killed someone?"

"it was necessary?" he shrugs, a cute little smile on his lips.

a laugh falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

"what?" rafe asks, chuckling at the sound of your adorable laugh.

you shake your head, hand trailing down his hair. "we're so fucked up."

"and that's just how i like it."

i hope y'all don't think i'm absolutely insane now lolz. i swearrrrr i just wanted to try something new.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov

[xoxochb]

— sea pearls ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♪ ༘⋆ on the radio… love song by lana del rey !

warnings: lowkey I pulled this outta my ass, fluff, tbh soft! rafe, kissinnnn, language, edging on smut-ish, implications to sex, and a possibility for a part 2 w smut pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ🪸࿔*:･

“I found another one, here.”

you pick up a white pearl from within the damp sand, letting the ocean waves wash off all the excess dirtiness from the pretty sea object. once clean, you place it in the palm of your hand and examine it attentively. you hum contently and hand it to your boyfriend who holds the rest of your collection.

“how many more of these do ya need?”

you ponder for a moment. “a few. I think.”

you bend back down and run your fingers along the sand, sticking them inside to find any pearls beneath what you can see. you find two this time, repeating the same process by washing them off and handing them to rafe who drops a few in the process, hands too full of the others.

“shit,” he murmurs. you pout realizing you had lost a few of your absolutely vital pearls. he attempts to pick up a few, only getting three of them though. “I think this is enough.”

“okay…” you stand up and take a last glance to the ocean floor before turning back to rafe who is trying to keep up with the armful of pearls. “okay, let’s go back. we’ll come back later.”

slowly you make your way back to the sandy portion of the beach, plopping down on your plethora of towels. rafe follows close behind with your pearls, you hold a bag up for him to drop all of them in before he sits down beside you.

you move your wet hair out of your face and take a look in the bag where you have a decent collection of sea pearls. you smile gingerly. and take a handful of them, just feeling. “I’ll probably be able to make a few bracelets with these. maybe a necklace if I have any leftover.”

“what about the shells you got earlier?”

“they’re just for decoration.”

rafe nods understandingly despite not understanding why you collected such objects only to leave them around your house. regardless, he would support your hobby greatly.

“c’mere, sweetheart.” he takes one of your hands away from the bag’s strap, using it to guide you towards him.

you don’t fight his advances, letting him grab your waist and pull you to his lap, moving your arms to wrap lazily over his shoulders. he pecks your forehead delicately.

“what are ya doing, ray?”

“nothin’ just be your pretty self.”

his lips trail from your forehead to your nose, tracing the length of it before pecking your cupid’s bow and then ultimately claiming your lips with his own. he tastes like the sea, salty and inviting, you savor that.

“mhmmm, ray…” your voice comes out half giggly.

“sweetheart…” peck, peck, peck.

“whatcha— mphm— doing?”

“kissin’—” kiss. “my girl. mhm, pretty girl.”

your tummy feels fluttery. you let him do just that.

rafe’s hands trail the skin of your bare waist, and looping around the waistband of your bikini bottoms, tugging at them gently. you deepen each kiss, placing the palm of your head on the back of his head to push his lips nearly impossibly closer to yours.

his tongue runs along your bottom lip— most likely tasting the same as his from when he dunked you underneath the water a relentless amount of times throughout the afternoon— it’s a silent way of asking for inside access to your mouth.

which you oblige to, resorting to open-mouthed kisses so his tongue can tangle with your own and explore your mouth as if he’s never done it before, which is a lie because he has plenty.

you want to start giggling uncontrollably, perhaps kick your feet and skip across the sand. you let your internal senses do that for you as you wish never to part your lips from rafe as he practically devours your mouth with his own.

you feel as his hands slide back up to your waist, holding it tightly as he guides the both of you to lay, your back against the towel and rafe on top of you, better access to your mouth as he kisses you.

you hum into his mouth as his fingers find your bottoms again, twirling the straps around them and very agonizingly slow rate, sliding them down your droplet-veiled legs. you finish for him and kick the remainder off with your feet.

you must say now, this is far more enticing than collecting pearls all afternoon!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: You can put your first meeting with Eita Otoya down to coincidence; the second, too, and maybe even the third. But as your paths keep crossing again and again, you’re forced to realize that it may not be such a coincidence after all — that maybe, despite your fervent wishes for it to be otherwise, he’s the one you’ve been hoping to find all along. A spin-off of Five Ways to Kill a Crow!

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 26.7k

Content Warnings: crack fic, reader is so dramatic for 0 reason, reader has a lot of insecurities, otoya is…otoya?? so a red flag but in a goofy way, mentions of reader’s bff dating karasu (she’s the y/n from fwtkac!!), i cannot stress enough that this is just NOT that serious, reader is in love with everyone BUT otoya, aiku mentioned (derogatorily by reader but affectionately by me), lots of swearing, dumbass situations, enemies to lovers except they have 0 reasons to be enemies, generally simplistic writing style because this is meant to be a silly piece, so much otoya slander like bro gets called every name in the book

A/N: hello everyone i’m finally back with new writing LMAOAO i’m sorry it’s not an official request or anything but a lot of people have mentioned wanting to see fwtkac y/n’s best friend and otoya getting together so here is something along those lines!! i didn’t really lock in for this one tbh so if the writing seems worse than usual that’s why but anyways here’s a little something to tide you guys over until i get back on my typical grind. also for anyone who is wondering — no you don’t actually have to read fwtkac to understand this (i don’t think) but there are references to it scattered throughout the story!! so if something seems weirdly unexplained it’s probably something like that

It was cold out, cold and more than a little rainy, but inside of the movie theater where you and your cousins were sitting, it was warm to the point of discomfort. You had long ago shrugged off your jacket and unzipped your sweater, but whoever was in charge of the temperature must’ve decided they wanted to simulate the boiling climate of the Sahara, because your cheeks were hot and your throat was scratchy from the dry air blowing in your face.

By itself, that was bad enough. But to make matters worse, sitting directly in front of you was a boy on a date, who was clearly enthused to prove to the world that that was what he was doing. His fingers were tangled in his companion’s hair as he tugged her face impossibly closer to his, and the soft sounds of their kissing only made you burn hotter with shame. All you could do was slink down in your seat and try to pretend like you were anywhere but in that theater, at that moment, sitting beside your twelve year old cousin who, by some miracle, hadn’t said something immature about the situation yet. You had already given up on seeing the movie; no matter which way you craned your neck, the screen was always partially obstructed by the couple in front of you, so you just sat there and hoped for it to be over as fast as possible.

As soon as the movie ended, you shot to your feet, leaving your cousins behind as you raced into the lobby, your simmering frustration boiling over as you caught sight of the boy, who had been ditched by his date and was standing by a vending machine, punching in the code for a soft drink.

“Hey,” you snapped, standing behind him with your arms crossed. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“What?” he said, turning around, his brow furrowed. The can of soda in his fist was weeping with condensation, droplets trickling down his long fingers onto his pale wrist, and for some reason, watching the slow seeping of water onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt was particularly enraging, exacerbating your already foul mood. Shouldering past him, you glared at the options in the machine, finding that the mixture of the salty popcorn and the parched air had left you thirsty but entirely unwilling to pay the exorbitant fees for literally every drink that was being offered.

“I sat behind you for the entire movie,” you said.

“Oh,” he said, obviously confused why you were bringing it up. Rolling your eyes, you decided on a bottle of water, typing in the code and presenting your card when prompted. 

“I couldn’t see the screen the entire time because of you, you fucking dimwit,” you said. “Seriously, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself for even a minute or two? Even plays have intermissions!”

“What are you talking about? Do you need help or something? I don’t have money, if that’s what you want,” he said, obviously lost. You narrowed your eyes, wondering if you had somehow gotten the wrong person before deciding that no, it was definitely him.

He was a distinct sort of person now that you looked at him more closely, even though he had seemed so nondescript at first. Most of his hair was a pale, silvery color, although it was streaked through with a green that fell in his pear-colored eyes, and his face had a delicate sort of handsomeness which might’ve made you swoon, were you the kind of person that was easily swayed by something so superficial. 

“I don’t need money. I’m talking about how you and that girlfriend of yours were so busy—”

“Y/N!” Before you could launch into a full-blown tirade, you were interrupted by your youngest cousin, who was only nine, throwing his arms around your waist in a hug. “We were looking for you everywhere!”

“Oh!” you said. You rarely ever saw your cousins, but you remembered holding the youngest when he was only a baby, so you always felt particularly gentle around him, even if he wasn’t really anything close to a baby anymore. “I’m sorry, I was just thirsty, so I came to get some water.”

Bending over to retrieve your bottle of water, you unscrewed the cap, tilting your head back and pouring it down your throat before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and putting the lid back on. Shooting one last glare at the boy, who was still standing there, you placed one hand on your cousin’s head, steering him towards the door, though when you were certain he wasn’t looking at you, you allowed your scowl to reappear.

The boy was lucky your cousins had shown up; you would’ve said something rude to him then and there, but as it was, all you did was mouth the word jackass over your shoulder before you rounded the corner and left him behind for good.

The next Monday, you found your attitude hadn’t improved any. You were still irritated by that stupid boy and his stupid girlfriend and that stupid movie that you had stupidly wanted to watch. Maybe it was a little ridiculous that you were holding a grudge even now, but you had a sense that it wouldn’t go away until you got to complain to your best friend, who was the only person you knew would support you no matter what.

You didn’t have any classes together in the morning, which meant you had to wait to rant to her until lunch — this was a good thing, because it meant you wouldn’t be interrupted, but it was also a bad thing, because it meant she would be with her new boyfriend.

By the time you sat down, she was already done eating, leaning against Karasu’s arm as she played on his phone, although she did smile at you in greeting when you slammed your tray filled with your disgusting, school-provided lunch across from her.

“I hate couples,” you announced as a preamble, wanting her to know what the topic of your whining would be about today.

“Hm,” she said.

“I’m serious!” you said.

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

You sighed, because you realized how your words could’ve been misconstrued. It wasn’t that you were upset she was with Karasu — if anything, it was kind of a relief, given how much drama the two of them had caused you for years — but you could see how your words could be interpreted in that way.

“I know,” you said, both as a concession and because she was right; Karasu’s friends really were, by and large, losers. “Actually, you two aren’t the ones that prompted me to say that this time, oddly enough.”

“Oh, then who did?” she said, her attention obviously piqued now that it was clear you weren’t going to grumble about her.

“You know how I went to visit my cousins last weekend?” you said. She 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?” she said, already accustomed to your preferred method of story-telling.

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

“That’s annoying. How’d you know he was dumb looking, though? Wasn’t the theater dark?” she said. If she weren’t currently pressed against her boyfriend, who was both athletic and petty enough to deck you if you tried something, you would’ve leaned across the table and kissed her for going along with you so perfectly.

“I confronted him afterwards,” you said.

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

“Huh?” you said. “Oh, she had already left. Guess she wasn’t that into him.” You punctuated that with a snicker, because the thought of the boy getting some humility forced into him was admittedly quite nice.

“Yikes,” your best friend said, although she then pouted at her screen. “Aw, man, I died. At this rate, I’ll never beat the high score.”

Karasu asked her for his phone back, going into some story about a cooler, so you took advantage of her brief moment of distraction to shove half of your sandwich down your throat. It wasn’t a great sandwich by any means, but it was at least better than nothing, and even though it was heavy like glue in your mouth when you chewed it, you forced it down dutifully, not wanting to be hungry during the second half of the day.

“Okay, describe this guy,” she said when she was done with her conversation. “I’m really interested in what could have driven you to judge his appearance so harshly.”

“Listen!” you said, rejuvenated by the food in your stomach and her interest in your story. “His hair was green!”

“Green?” she repeated.

“Yes!” you said, entirely vindicated by her incredulity. “Well, mostly it was a grayish white, but there was a green streak, and the undercut part was also green.”

She snorted. “That’s wild. 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,” you said, thinking back to the boy and his hair, which, despite its odd coloring, hadn’t seemed destroyed in the slightest. It bore the consideration that maybe it was natural, but you didn’t want to believe that it was.

“I know for a fact that he had the most damaged, dead, crunchy-looking hair ever,” she said. You shook your head sadly, because as much as you wished that that was the case, you knew it wasn’t.

“It was actually pretty shiny and luscious,” you admitted. “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,” she suggested. You immediately pretended to gag, because saying something even remotely kind about the boy had taken so much out of you that the thought of having to actually be with him, let alone fix him, was like a punch to the gut.

“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,” you said, eyeing Karasu’s hair suspiciously, wondering how it was that your best friend still hadn’t managed to convince him to go without the wax.

“Huh? Did you say my name?” Karasu said, handing your best friend his phone back and blinking at you curiously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you and your best friend said in unison. He was obviously weirded out, but to his immense credit, did not argue much more, obviously deciding it wasn’t a battle he wanted to have. That was the kind of boyfriend he was, which was ironic, given how he and your best friend were once constantly at each other’s throats.

“Anyways, that’s my rant for the day,” you said, because there wasn’t much else to add. Your cousins had pulled you away before you could really do anything that would make for a truly excellent story, and there was only so much you could do to make the entire thing sound interesting to an uninvolved third party.

“That really is awful,” she 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,” you said, and it was the truth. “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,” she said, and it was both a good and bad thing that that was the case: good, because you knew she would never let you end up with someone shitty, but bad, because the prospects at your school were less than slim: they were nonexistent.

“You’re the best,” you said anyways, making a heart with your hands, because after all, it wasn’t her fault, and she really was doing what she could. 

“I try!” she said, and then you moved on to lighter subjects, such as the upcoming exam that you all had to take for Modern Literature — Karasu’s teammates were betting that he’d get the higher score on it, but as the loyal type, you had no choice but to bet on your best friend, although you really would’ve done so regardless. You couldn’t remember a single test in all of the years that you had known the two of them where Karasu had beaten her, at least not in Modern Literature.

Most of autumn and the beginning of winter crept along in the same way that the rest of the year had. It was monotony, really, although you didn’t mind it terribly most of the time. It would get to you on rare occasions, and only ever late at night, when you would lie in your bed and stare at the ceiling and wonder when it would be your turn for something exciting to happen.

Your prayers were answered, as they often were, in the form of your best friend. She had been invited to some big soccer game in Tokyo by both Karasu and his teammate, Hiori, which meant she had a spare ticket. She had yammered on the phone about the details, something about a key match and the stakes for the team, but you didn’t need any convincing.

“Obviously, I’ll come,” you said.

“You will?” she said.

“I’ve been wanting to go to the city for a while, anyways,” you said. “It’ll be fun!”

Plus, you thought to yourself, though you did not dare vocalize it, this could be my chance. She would never understand it, what it meant for you, why you were so invested, but the truth was that for you, this was the opportunity you had been waiting for. The opportunity to escape the dullness of your life. The opportunity to find something like what your best friend had with Karasu — someone, actually, and in particular someone who loved you simply because of who you were. You didn’t want any part of that bullshit that the boys in your high school liked to talk about, those strange confessions that felt more like the kinds of appraisals one would give to livestock than anything; you wanted to find something that was more characteristic of a romantic comedy than real life. Something that made your heart race and your stomach drop. Something like that.

The day of the game was the coldest all year, and you wrapped your blue scarf tighter around your neck as you sat in the bleachers next to your best friend and a girl with flowing red hair who introduced herself as Koyuki Chigiri. Rubbing your hands together for warmth, you engaged in idle conversation with the two of them while you waited for the match to begin, hoping that it would go by quickly so that you could return to the warmth of your car.

“I’m number 6’s girlfriend,” your best friend said in response to Koyuki’s question about who on the field she knew. There was a special fondness to the way she said the word girlfriend, and pride in the way she said his name: “Tabito Karasu.”

“I see him!” Koyuki 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.”

She needn’t have said anything. The two of them were all but carbon copies of one another, and you were quite certain that you could’ve picked them out as siblings in any crowd.

“He looks just like you,” you offered, which was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but she didn’t seem to take it personally.

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

“Technically, I’m not with anyone,” you began with a cringe. It sounded even more embarrassing when you said it aloud, especially when Koyuki’s inquisitive smile didn’t drop. “The thing is, both Karasu and number 16, Yo Hiori, invited her, so I just took her extra — what the fuck.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked out on the field and saw Karasu standing with someone eerily familiar. For a moment, you wondered if you were perhaps seeing a ghost or hallucinating or something, but as the seconds dragged by, you were forced to confront the fact that this was reality, that he was somehow, miraculously and inexplicably, here.

“Is everything okay?” your best friend said. “Hello? What’s gotten into you?”

“Hey,” you said faintly. “Why is your boyfriend talking to that — that — that creature? Why is that thing even on the field in the first place?”

“Number 9?” Koyuki said innocently. “Do you know him?”

You wanted to laugh and cry in turn. Did you know him? No, not really. He wasn’t anybody important or relevant, just a bad omen of sorts. What did it mean that he was here again? What aspect of your life would he manage to ruin this time?

“Are you serious?” your best friend said, clearly having reached the same conclusion you already had. “That Otoya dude is the theater guy?”

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

She responded with something snarky about how he was probably there to play soccer, but you tuned her out, far too taken with this discovery, with this Otoya. It was undoubtedly him; nobody else would have that same coloring, that same slender build or sly posture. Even from the distance, his countenance reminded you of a snake’s, or perhaps a mouse’s — entirely cunning and shifty, untrustworthy and quick. You couldn’t tell what business Karasu, who had always been open and honest to a fault, had with someone like that, but to your dismay, it seemed like the two of them were genuine friends.

For the most part, you tried to ignore him, and it was relatively simple to do so. He was nothing compared to the other players, slipping beneath your notice, or so you liked to think. After all, what cause did you have to focus on Otoya when there was number 7, scoring the kind of goal that movies were made about? He was astounding, and the way he crashed to the ground and crumpled in a heap, pale hair spilling onto the grass of the field and long limbs sprawled out beneath him, was so reminiscent of a tragic hero that you audibly gasped before you even knew what was happening, jumping to your feet and breaking into applause along with Koyuki and your best friend. For a moment, you three were the only ones in the entire stadium to react, and then everyone else roared to life as number 7 — Nagi, his name was Nagi — pumped his fist in the air.

“That was amazing!” you said as the cheers died down and you all returned to your seats. “I never realized that soccer could be so exciting to watch.”

Was this the kind of thing that your best friend got to see every time she went to one of Karasu and Hiori’s games for Bambi Osaka? Somehow, based on the surprised look in her eyes, you doubted that it was the case. This was something special, something out-of-the-ordinary, and so, too, was Nagi.

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

“Don’t even mention him!” you said, cutting her off with a huff, fully aware that she was just trying to mess with you. “Nagi’s the one who scored, so stick to praising him!” 

“Hyoma’s doing so well!” Koyuki said, her face the same shade as her hair and split with a white grin. “I can’t believe it. It’s like he was never hurt at all!”

Overcome with a bout of shivering, you hugged yourself tightly, hoping for some meager warmth. Readjusting your scarf, you tucked your hands into the pockets of your sweater.

“Honestly, this is way more intense than I expected,” you said. “I really hope they manage to win.”

“They will,” your best friend said. “I’m confident of that.”

You didn’t know anywhere near as much as she did about soccer, so you had no choice but to trust her confidence. She was clearly assured of herself, and her faith inspired you to have your own. They would definitely be victorious. Even though the U-20 boys had those two players, Sae and Aiku, you could tell that the rest of them had nothing on the Blue Lock players, who were playing with such speed and skill that you couldn’t even wrap your head around it.

Right before the referee blew the whistle for halftime, Blue Lock’s number 10, Rin, scored another goal, putting them in the lead for the first half. The way he did it was definitely technically perfect, but to you, it seemed like it was effortless — which you supposed was half the skill of it all.

As the players cleared the field, jogging towards their locker rooms, Koyuki stood up, waving her hands frantically. You gave her an odd look, but she ignored you, far too focused on gaining someone’s attention.

“Hyoma! Over here!” she called out. Although it was far, her voice carried enough that her brother, who was in the middle of drinking from his water bottle, whipped around, his eyes widening when he noticed Koyuki taking out her phone and snapping a photo of him. “He noticed me! Ah, hello, Hyoma! You’re doing awesome!”

Behind the younger Chigiri, you noticed Karasu walking with someone else, and you were dimly aware of your best friend shouting out her boyfriend’s name, waving at him with the giddiness of a puppy. You would’ve found the entire exchange nauseatingly sweet, but you were too preoccupied with Karasu’s companion to pay them any mind.

Standing up, you jabbed your finger towards Otoya. You probably — definitely — looked insane, but for some reason, the thought of him just getting to hang around and attain something like stardom in the soccer world was unbearable. He turned his head to both sides, like he was checking to see if there was anyone else you could possibly be motioning towards, but when he came to the understanding that there was no one else, that there never had been, that it was only him, he pointed at himself hesitantly. With a curt nod, you flipped him off, rocking onto your heels when he froze in confusion and sitting back in your seat as Karasu dragged him off to the locker rooms where the rest of the team was undoubtedly waiting for them.

“That’s what he gets,” you said, brushing your palms off against your thighs in satisfaction.

“He probably has no idea who you are,” your best friend said with a giggle. “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,” you said, almost betrayed at the fact that she was taking Otoya’s side over your own. “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,” she said. You almost opened your mouth to argue with her, but considering even you had nearly admitted that he was handsome, you found that you didn’t really have any grounds upon which to do so. “And fresh out of the swamp? Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

“No way,” you said, glowering at her, and only half in jest. “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,” she said before turning to Koyuki and asking her if she wanted any snacks. You dug your elbows into your thighs, exhaling as you gazed out onto the empty field, marveling at the crystals which puffed into the air from your breath.

“So,” Koyuki said once your best friend was gone. “What’s the history between you and Otoya?”

“History? There’s no history,” you said.

“It sure seems like there is,” she said.

“There isn’t,” you said. “Well, unless you count obstruction of a movie in that category.”

“I’m…not sure? You’ll have to elaborate,” she said.

“Basically, I had to sit behind him in a movie theater once, and instead of actually getting to watch the film — which, mind you, I was very excited about seeing — I was treated to a front-row experience of him and his girlfriend’s make-out session,” you said, wrinkling your nose at the mere memory.

“Ah,” Koyuki said. “That’s the worst.”

“Isn’t it?” you said. “Anyways, I didn’t even know his name until today. He’s really not important; the only reason I’m here is because of the extra ticket and…actually, it’s embarrassing.”

Even as you said it, you shrank away from Koyuki, who would undoubtedly judge you for the shallow reasoning. How silly your foolish desires would seem to a girl who was supporting her little brother! Silly and dumb and pathetic and unrealistic. 

“It can’t be that bad,” she said, and she was so genuine when she did that you relented without further convincing.

“I want a boyfriend,” you admitted. “Not in, like, a desperate way or anything, but out of all of our friends back at home, I’m the only one who doesn’t have anything close to a relationship. I guess it would be nice to be the one who’s picked for a change, and it’s not like there’s anyone at my high school who I necessarily want to pick me.”

“I don’t think that’s embarrassing,” Koyuki said.

“Isn’t it? What kind of idiot goes to a soccer game just because they want to date one of the players? I bet those guys down there could have any girl they wanted. Why would they go for me? I’m not like my best friend. You know, Karasu was in love with her for years before he finally mustered up the courage to ask her out, and even then, it was only because she forced him to. How am I ever supposed to find someone like that by just sitting on the sidelines?” you said. You weren’t even sure why you were telling Koyuki all of this — the two of you had only just met, after all, but now that you had begun, you couldn’t stop. Maybe it was that you had never been able to say this to anyone, least of all your best friend, who you didn’t want to burden with your issues, but it was like a floodgate had opened. “That’s why it’s embarrassing. I’m just like every other fan with dreams bordering on delusion.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the case,” Koyuki said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “After all, your best friend is dating one of the players. I’m sure she and…Karasu, was it? The two of them would definitely be willing to help set you up with whoever you want, as long as the other party is open to it. That’s a connection that ‘every other fan’ doesn’t have.”

“That’s true,” you said. She patted you on the shoulder.

“Cheer up! Don’t think too much about it. Figure out if any of them are even worth your while, and then you can think about how you’ll approach them,” she said.

“I guess that makes sense,” you said.

“Good,” she said firmly. “If you don’t believe in yourself, then how can you expect other people to? Do you want a boyfriend?”

“Yes?” you said.

“Yes! Then you’ll get one,” she said. “Ooh! My fries!”

“I had to fight an old lady for these,” your best friend said, handing a bucket of fries to Koyuki and pressing a box of your favorite candy in your palm. “I know you didn’t ask for anything, Y/N, but I thought you might want this.”

“Thank you,” you said, tearing open the packet and taking out a handful to suck on as the second half began.

There was a new player on the U-20 team, and he managed to score two goals in quick succession, giving them the lead and a renewed vigor in play. His name was Shidou, and he was completely unlike anything you had ever seen before, cackling like a maniac as he played, talking about impregnation with every goal he made. It was so odd that it crossed the line from disconcerting into plain fascinating, and you found yourself trying to picture what a conversation with him would be like.

Shortly after Shidou’s first goal, Hyoma Chigiri collapsed to the ground. Koyuki inhaled sharply, stuffing her mouth with fries and chewing rapidly as another player, the number 3, stumbled before slumping over entirely. You swallowed, immediately glancing at your best friend, who was the only one unconcerned amongst the three of you.

“It looks like a cramp,” she reassured you both. “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,” Koyuki said. You hummed in agreement before returning your eyes to the match, where the substitutes were being announced. Up until this point, the only player that had even somewhat caught your eye was Nagi, and you wondered if either of the newcomers would manage to outdo him and his flashy goal from earlier.

Niko was being helped off of the field by his replacement, a tall boy with purple hair tied up in a messy ponytail and the number 14 emblazoned across his broad back. He hadn’t even played yet, but for some reason, he looked oddly familiar, and not just because he had the sort of body one would expect to feature in music videos. No, it was something else…

“No way, is that Reo Mikage?” you said, your hand flying to your mouth as you read the name lettered onto his jersey. What the hell was Reo Mikage doing in this match? As the scion of the Mikage Corporation, didn’t he have better things to be doing than kicking around a ball with a bunch of sweaty dumbasses?

“Like the corporate heir?” your best friend said. 

“I’m sure of it!” you said. Now that you could see his face, it was abundantly clear that it was him. There was no mistaking Reo Mikage, after all; the entire country knew who he was. “Oh, man, 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!”

You were prone to such flights of fancy, after all. Nobody questioned it when you rambled on and on about this type of thing, especially because it never came to fruition. You were the one who talked and talked about things like weddings and marriage and romance, but when it came down to it, you had less experience than a middle schooler.

“I can ask,” she said. “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!”

Her voice tapered into a squeal, which might’ve been strange, considering she was cheering for a man who was very much not her boyfriend, but from what little you knew of the dynamic, Hiori was something like a younger brother to both her and Karasu alike, so it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.

When he ran onto the field, it was to join Otoya at his side, earning him a thump on the back in greeting. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, wishing that Hiori had gone anywhere else, because now Otoya had recaptured your attention, and you had done so well at ignoring him thus far that you were irritated to remember he still existed.

“Somebody save that poor, innocent boy,” you said, shaking your head as the game began anew.

“Hiori? From what?” your best friend said.

“From being corrupted and turned into a bad-mannered asshole by Otoya,” you said. Currently, the ball was nearer to Blue Lock’s goal than the U-20’s, so Otoya was hanging back, ever-ready for a counter but still hiding in the shadows, leaving the majority of the work to the defenders.

You didn’t think anyone else was looking at him just then, so you took the moment to pick apart his every flaw in a way that felt private, even though you were both surrounded by people. Skinny as hell. Shitty posture. Dumb hair. Expressionless. Probably awful at soccer. Definitely has perpetually scraped knees. Might smell like grass, and not in a good way. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid —

“Woah,” your best friend said, causing you to blink and redirect your attention to where Reo Mikage had just done…something. You weren’t really sure what, exactly, but it must’ve been sufficiently impressive, because there were more than a few claps and hollers of approval thrown his way. “Reo’s rich and a soccer genius? I thought you were full of bullshit earlier, but you actually might be onto something.”

“Exactly,” you said, and although you still didn’t know what Reo had done to deserve the title of ‘soccer genius’, you fully believed that he deserved it. “What a man.”

Unfortunately, no matter how good both Reo and the rest of the players on the Blue Lock team were, Shidou still did make that second goal, which led to the current situation: number 11, Isagi, storming over to the sidelines, saying something to his coach with entirely more rage than you ever would’ve expected someone as meek as him could possess.

“They look like they’re arguing,” Koyuki said, worrying her lower lip in between her teeth. “Do you think everything is alright?”

Both you and her gazed expectantly at your best friend, who seemed shocked that you were deferring to her — not that she should’ve been, considering the fact that she had been explaining the game until this point to you pretty effectively.

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

“Huh?” you said, trying to discern if this was one of her obscure literature references or something from social media that you had missed.

“Never mind,” she 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,” you said as the referee whistled to announce that the final substitute for the Blue Lock players would be taking the field. You leaned forwards in anticipation — given that the last substitution had resulted in Reo taking the field, you had high expectations for this last player, who according to the board was their number 13: Barou.

He more than delivered. His dark hair was pushed out of his face, away from his features, which were so sharp that they seemed to be made of marble. Although you were so far away, you could see how vibrant his crimson eyes were, how tempestuous and volatile everything about him, down to his very aura, was. He didn’t stop to greet Isagi, who was clearly pleased by his appearance, and when he took the field, it was with a sort of savagery, like a beast baring its fangs at its prey.

“That guy is scary,” your best friend said.

“Scary hot,” you said.

“Moving on from Reo already? This is why you’ll never have a boyfriend,” she said. “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,” you said, elbowing her in the side and covering the sting of the truth with a smirk. It wasn’t her fault, after all. She couldn’t change the fact that someone loved her anymore than you could change the fact that no one loved you. “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,” she said. “What’s his name? Barou? I’m interested to see how he does.”

True to her word, Otoya was striding off of the field, pausing only to mutter something to Barou before joining the others on the bench. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the twist of events — you didn’t have to worry about distractions anymore. With Otoya gone, there wouldn’t be anything in your way. You wouldn’t have anything or anyone obstructing your enjoyment for the rest of the match.

“He’s getting rid of that wannabe bog monster? Even better! He’s quickly shooting up in my rankings,” you said, clapping your hands together.

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

“Thanks,” you said, stretching your neck so you could see where Otoya was sitting with the other players. There he was, on the bench next to a fine-boned boy with curly black hair, sipping on some drink or another. You couldn’t quite tell given the angle, but as it made you feel better to think so, you decided that he must’ve been sitting there and seething that he had been replaced. It must’ve crushed him, that he had been taken off the field before he could even do anything meaningful! How humiliating. If only you were there, too, you would’ve crouched there and told him these things…it still wouldn’t make up for that dumb movie that he made you miss, that you still hadn’t gotten the chance to see, but it would probably make you feel better for the moment.

“Check this out,” your best friend said, interrupting your train of thought for the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes. “They’re making edits of us.”

“What?” you said. Koyuki let out a delighted laugh as you all watched the clip of the three of you in the audience play.

“They’re really talented!” she said. “Save that and send it to me after the game, please.”

“On it,” your best friend said, saving the video to a folder and then putting her phone away, just in time for you to catch Barou scoring in what, once again, must’ve been some great feat but was to you just another move you couldn’t really comprehend.

Every single person was on their feet, screaming as Barou yanked his jersey off, throwing it into the air and flexing his arms as he jumped in celebration, roaring back at the audience as everyone chanted his name.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow is right!” your best friend said, prompting you to give her a concerned look. “That was an incredible play. Barou is in another realm entirely!”

Of course, she was talking about soccer. But that was the furthest thing from your mind at the moment; you didn’t care about the sport or Barou’s aptitude at it, especially not now.

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

“Ew, nasty,” she said, smacking your forearm in reprimand. You didn’t even deny it; you both knew exactly what you meant when you said that, and it was something you would stand by if need be.

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

“I have a boyfriend. I’m not allowed to answer that,” she said. You crossed your arms at the hypocrisy of that response.

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

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

“I sense favoritism,” you said with an injured sniff on Barou’s behalf. “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,” she said lightly. “I liked you better when you were in love with Reo.”

At the mention of Reo, your face warmed, and involuntarily, you looked over to where he was talking with his team’s goalie, his expression grave and motions decisive.

“Believe me, I still am,” you 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?” she said. You ground your teeth.

“That’s not the point!” you said, which earned you a snicker from her.

“Did you know that those two are brothers?” Koyuki said a few minutes later, pointing at the two opposing players battling for the ball.

“Sae and Rin?” you said.

“Mhm, yeah, I overheard these two guys talking about it while I was at the trash can earlier,” she said. 

“Their parents must have incredible genes,” your best friend said. “Those two are easily the best players on their respective teams.”

“They’re both really good,” you added, not because you had any opinions one way or another but because you wanted to be included in the discussion.

Even you could tell that this last play was crucial. With the score tied and both teams functioning at a completely different intensity than earlier, everyone in the audience was keenly aware of the fact that the game could really go either way. Koyuki had your best friend’s hand in a death grip, and you were twisting the ends of your scarf as you sucked on your teeth, every successive moment of the game causing your nerves to fray further.

Right when it seemed that everything would end with a tie, the ball landed at Isagi’s feet, and even though you had hardly taken notice of him for this entire game, you were suddenly struck by the fact that he, too, was kind of angry, was kind of beautiful. Without taking a moment to consider or hesitate, he drew his leg back and, nanoseconds before the referee blew the whistle, slammed his foot into the ball, sending it flying to the net with a flourish.

“They did it!” Koyuki shrieked, tackling you and your best friend in a hug before you even had a chance to react, pulling you to her sides so tightly it was as if you were the ones who had won. 

“They did!” your best friend shrieked back.

“I can’t believe it!” you said, your cheek smushed against Koyuki’s collarbone as your eyes darted towards the field, where the Blue Lock boys were celebrating. “They really pulled it off!”

It was ridiculous. It was amazing. It was fantastical. There was no way it should’ve ended up in this way, but somehow, it really was the case that the Blue Lock players had won. That was the sort of thing that only happened in movies, and yet it had ended up like that. There was a sort of hope which brewed in you just then, a hope that if you lived in a world where a team of high school forwards could beat the best players in the country, then the chances of things working out for you might not be so slim after all.

After that, everything seemed to work out exactly as Koyuki had predicted they would. Somehow, and you weren’t quite sure what she had said to convince him of it, but somehow, your best friend had gotten the two of you invited to a meeting that Karasu was having with some of the other Blue Lock players — players which included none other than Reo Mikage himself.

“Tell Karasu to sit next to you, and then have him get Reo to sit in between himself and me,” you said when you arrived at the cafe where the meeting was supposedly going to be held. You had made her arrive a few minutes early, just in case Reo was the type to believe in the early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable school of thought, and you had gotten enough sleep last night, so you were fresh-faced and ready to make a good impression on the boy who was almost assuredly the love of your life, or at least soon would be.

“Yup, I know the plan,” your best friend said.

“Good,” you said, although considering she had been the one to come up with the plan in the first place, it would’ve been a little ridiculous if she had forgotten by now. “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,” she said, pointing at what she wanted. You made a mental note of which menu items she had indicated before nodding.

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

“It’s peak brunch time,” she said, which did make sense. “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 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,” you said, wincing in horror at the mere thought. It was less embarrassing for her to be waiting by herself, since she had her boyfriend as an excuse, but you? You were barely associated with any of the players, and without her and Karasu there to smooth over any introductions, you were sure they would be more than a little stilted and awkward.

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

“I’m going!” you said, sufficiently motivated, if not by your lack of caffeine until now, then by the chance that this entire trip would’ve been for nothing.

Luckily, although it was long, the line was fast-moving, and it didn’t take you quite as much time as you thought it would to get to the counter. Rattling off what you and your best friend wanted, you paid for it all and tucked the receipt into your pocket, stepping to the side to wait for your order to be placed on the counter.

“Y/N!” the barista shouted, setting the two drinks and scones you had ordered onto the counter. You furrowed your brow as you inspected them, turning the clear cup of iced coffee around to ensure it was your name written on it. “Uh, ma’am, is there a problem?”

“What?” you said, glancing up at the barista, who was looking at you in confusion. “No, I just thought I had ordered this hot. I must’ve said the wrong thing, though! Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, no!” she said, reaching for the cup. “Let me remake it!”

“It’s fine,” you said, tugging the cup back. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a limousine driving away, which almost certainly meant Reo was here by now, and yet there you were, stuck inside of the cafe. “I don’t mind if it’s iced.”

“It’s my first week, so I definitely just got confused. It’s my mistake, so please allow me to rectify it. Free of charge!” she said, snatching the cup from your hand without letting you get a word in edgewise.

You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited for her to remake it, her every movement far too slow, to the point that it felt like she was doing it on purpose. Finally, she came back with the new cup, and balancing it on your hand with what your best friend had ordered, you muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the barista and rushed out of the shop.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said by way of explanation, keeping your eyes on your best friend, too flustered to look anywhere else. Normally, she would’ve given you an encouraging nod, but for some reason, she seemed on edge, which was your first sign that something was wrong. “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,” your best friend said, and the lack of a joke or even a smile was so out-of-character for her that you actually were about to ask her what was wrong. 

Then, however, there was a flash of green in your peripheral vision, a specific shade like an April spring cutting through March’s white winter, and something cold rushed over you as you realized just what that meant.

“You!” you said, pointing at the one person you didn’t want to see, the one person who was basically the sum total of every single moment of bad luck you had ever had, the one person that was your life’s misfortune concentrated into a slender body, the one person who kept showing up for some reason. Your best friend’s drink slipped from your hands as you set the rest of your order onto the table, glaring at Otoya all the while. He groaned, burying his face in his hands, and the reaction was so adverse coming from someone who had never even been wronged by you that it only caused you to be even more irascible. “You owe me ten dollars!”

“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.”

You were going to crush his throat. You were going to reach out and wrap your fingers around his pale neck and squeeze until he choked and stopped spouting bullshit like that. What kind of ego did he possess, that he immediately assumed you would ever want to date him? Him! 

“You were definitely on a date,” you hissed. “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!”

“Oh, I do remember you!” he said, snapping his fingers in recognition. “You came and yelled at me after the movie, too, right? That was funny.”

Before you could say anything further, you were interrupted by none other than Reo Mikage, who was clearly more than a little annoyed by the argument.

“Okay, guys, how about we all relax and get to the point of this meeting instead of squabbling over past grievances?” he said with a sigh.

It was a miracle you didn’t burst into tears then and there. Of course it happened like this. Of course it did. You suddenly felt so dumb for hoping that it would be different. Why had you thought that you would ever be appealing to someone like that? Why had you believed it would be possible for you to actually impress him? Your clothes suddenly seemed too garish, your face comical and your hair outlandish in front of his exasperation. You shouldn’t have tried so hard. You should’ve known better.

“Fine by me,” Otoya said after a second. “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,” your best friend said, standing and using her hand to steer you back into the cafe.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you allowed your expression to crumple. “I completely made an awful first impression on Reo Mikage!”

“I can’t lie, you definitely did, but at least it was entertaining for the rest of us,” she said. That didn’t make you feel any better, and she must’ve picked up on that, because she wrapped her arm around your shoulders as you got in line again. “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,” you said. The fact that you had been so close, that you had had Reo within your grasp before making an idiot of yourself in front of everyone…it felt close to what you assumed being slapped in public must’ve. “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.”

That was the conclusion you had reached: Otoya was something like a curse for you. If he was there, then things would invariably go badly; Reo and the movie were the proof of it, and you didn’t want to know what other aspects he would meddle with if given the chance.

“You might be better off if you pretend he’s not around,” your best friend said, as if she were reading your mind. “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,” you said, because if she was guaranteeing it, then it was all but assured, and the idea was much more palatable than further fumbling around in front of Reo, who already likely thought of you as a bratty girl prone to throwing tantrums. Overcome with fondness for her generosity, you turned to her and continued: “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,” she said, wrinkling her nose at you as you reached the counter and began to order.

By the time you received your new drinks and additional scones, your stomach was rumbling. Exiting the cafe with half of a scone in your mouth and a stack of napkins in your hands, you raised your eyebrows when you saw that the number of people at the table you had left behind seemed to have multiplied.

You recognized a few of them — Karasu and Reo, of course, given that you had gone to school with the former for years and were the latter’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, as well as Otoya, begrudgingly, and Isagi, who was one of the newcomers but had been the one to score the winning goal for Blue Lock, making him a person of note. Then there were others who you remembered only vaguely — Hyoma Chigiri, who was Koyuki’s little brother, and Kenyu Yukimiya, who was a model and, somehow, a friend of your best friend’s.

Deciding that the boy with the cascading black hair and fluttering lashes seemed like the safest, most neutral party, and having no intentions of confronting Isagi with Otoya so near, you sidled over to him, sipping on your drink and waiting for him to notice you. He did almost immediately, and with a smile, he waved you closer.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Aryu. Who might you be?”

The fact that he had introduced himself instead of automatically assuming you knew who he was instantly set you at ease, so you didn’t even feel shy in reciprocating.

“Y/N,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you, Aryu.”

“And you as well!” he said.

“Do you mind if I hang around with you for a bit?” you said.

“Not at all,” he said. “In fact, it might be for the better. I fear I’ve offended Karasu a bit, and any buffer I can get is one I’ll accept.”

“Offended Karasu?” you said. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. He’s pretty crabby.”

“I can’t blame him this time,” the boy sitting next to Aryu piped up. “Aryu was totally hitting on his girlfriend. I’m Tokimitsu, by the way! Uh, but, not like you asked or anything. Sorry!”

“I was not hitting on her! I was only acknowledging her glamorous spirit!” Aryu said. “There’s a difference.”

“Um, okay,” you said, because you had a sense that you didn’t want to know what he meant by your best friend having a glamorous spirit. “And don’t apologize, Tokimitsu. It’s always good to know more people. Speaking of which, who are the others?”

“Well, you know Karasu,” Aryu said. “Next to him is Otoya, then Reo, Yukimiya, Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira. We’re all in Blue Lock together.”

“Besides me, the rest of them played in the game against the U-20s!” Tokimitsu added. “Reo was a substitute, but he was totally amazing, wasn’t he?”

“Totally,” you said, tempering your exhale so it didn’t sound dreamy and longing. “And yes, now that you mention it, I do remember watching all of you play. I was at the game, you know!”

“Yeah, of course!” Tokimitsu said. “You’re one of the girls from the edits.”

“I didn’t know how popular those were,” you said, frowning in confusion. According to your best friend, the fact that you, her, and Koyuki had been the first to cheer for Nagi’s goal meant that the cameras had focused on you for a while, leading people to make edits of the three of you in turn. She was more invested in it than you; in truth, you didn’t really keep up with that side of social media, except for when she sent you particularly good ones. “I mean, you recognized me just based on those alone?”

“Apparently, you’re extra-famous,” Aryu said. “You’re in one of the top Blue Lock pairings.”

“Top what now?” you said. Tokimitsu hummed in agreement.

“I was telling your friend about this earlier, too, but it’s really the case — people have been shipping you guys with the players!” he said.

“That means they want you to get together, or believe you would make a good couple,” Aryu explained, ostensibly because your befuddlement was still shining through.

“Oh,” you said. “I’m assuming she’s shipped with Karasu, then.”

“Of course,” Tokimitsu said. “They’re the number one trending couple, actually. You’re number two.”

“With who?” you said tentatively, unsure of whether you wanted to find out. What if it was Reo or Barou? What if it wasn’t them? What if it was someone completely random, like Bachira? Not that you had anything against Bachira, of course, but you weren’t sure how you felt about being…what was the word? Shipped? You weren’t sure how you felt about being shipped with him, that was all.

“Otoya!” Tokimitsu said cheerfully. “It’s because of that clip of you giving him the middle finger right before halftime.”

“It’s a thing now,” Aryu said, completely unaware or perhaps uncaring of the fright mingling with disgust that was seeping into every crevice of your body. “People have made matching profile photos of the two of you. It’s all very sweet.”

“Otoya?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “People are ‘shipping’ me with Otoya? Are you serious? You’re not, right? Please tell me you’re joking. You’re joking, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

Tokimitsu rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. “Uh, I mean, it’s not like it’s a binding vow or anything. You don’t have to date him just because a bunch of social media users think you should…”

“How?” you said. “How does someone look at me and then look at him and think that we’re somehow compatible? That’s — that’s — it’s preposterous, that’s what it is!”

“Um, I don’t really know, but I’m, er, sorry!” Tokimitsu squeaked. 

In the back of your mind, you were aware that you should be apologizing to Tokimitsu, not the other way around. He was only telling you what he had seen and what was surely one of those silly internet trends that would pass in a week or two; you were the one who was so affected by it when you really had no reason to be. In fact, you wouldn’t have been, had it been anyone else. Anyone but Otoya and you would’ve laughed along, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was him, it was that insufferable, mannerless freak with the hair from a children’s coloring book and the kind of ego that you would read about in overinflated posts online — he was the one that people had, for some reason, propped up as a good match for you or whatever it was that shipping meant.

“Moving on,” Aryu said, “I love your outfit today, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, knowing an attempt at redirection when you saw it and deciding there was no point in stewing further. “Your hair is really pretty, by the way. What’s your secret? It’s so long, but it doesn’t look damaged at all.”

“I’m glad you asked!” Aryu said. “The secret is oiling it every weekend.”

“Ah, I see,” you said, nodding along at the appropriate moments as he walked you through his hair-care routine.

“You know what we should do?” Bachira’s singsong voice cut through Aryu’s speech, catching all of your attention. “Since all of us are together for the first time outside of Blue Lock, we should hang out!”

“That’s good with me. Our meeting ended up not being that productive,” Yukimiya said.

“Mostly due to certain individuals,” Reo said, looking pointedly at Otoya, which made you feel particularly self-satisfied. Maybe all hope wasn’t completely lost — if Reo was assigning the larger portion of the blame to Otoya, then perhaps you could still convince him that you weren’t to be associated with his childishness.

“Me? Blame her!” Otoya said, pointing at you. You made a face at him, which he did not return, but you felt in your heart that he very much wanted to. 

“Reo’s too much of a glam gentleman to blame a lady for anything,” Aryu said.

“What he said,” Reo said. “Though I wouldn’t put it like that.”

You supposed it was as close to a win as you were getting, so you didn’t fight it. If that was what it took for Reo to view you in a favorable light, then that was what it took. You didn’t have the room to complain, not in the slightest.

“Where should we go?” Tokimitsu said, cutting off Otoya before he could formulate a response. “I’m okay with anything.”

“Wait, what about Nagi? Isn’t he with you guys?” Reo said, and although he directed it to Isagi, you could feel your ears perking up at the mention of Nagi, who was another one of your favorite players, albeit not on the levels of Reo or Barou.

“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. He was met with a nod from Reo. “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 my girlfriend,” Karasu said, putting a particular emphasis on the last word and giving Aryu a dirty look when he did so.

“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,” your best friend said, although you knew she had no interest in rhyming ping-pong nor in an arcade day. The two of you had been friends for so long that you could read her easily, and today was no different; to you, if not to anyone else, it was painfully obvious that she was going along with Bachira’s plan only because she wanted to help you, because the prospect of Reo, Nagi, and Isagi all in one place was basically the biggest opportunity you had been presented with since she had approached you with the spare ticket to the game.

“Then I guess we’re off to the arcade,” Karasu 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 did as he commanded, allowing him to walk in front and breaking into smaller sub-groups as you made your way to the arcade. Your best friend hung back with Karasu, as was to be expected, while Yukimiya joined Reo so that they could actually talk about the economics of Blue Lock, which was what they had planned to do during the meeting that you had crashed. Aryu and Tokimitsu flanked you as Aryu described every single step he took in the shower, and a few paces behind you, Chigiri and Bachira argued over which arcade games were the most fun to play. Isagi was doing his best to mediate, while Otoya was egging them both on in turn, because of course he was. 

He was such a contrary person. One wouldn’t expect it just from looking at him, but he really was that sort, always itching for some kind of discord, some kind of chaos — he must’ve thrived in it. No wonder he was so fond of banging into your life in his ungraceful way; he probably derived something like entertainment from it.

“Did you get that, Y/N?” Aryu said. You had reached the door to the arcade, and he was looking at you expectantly. You had been too taken with listening to Chigiri, Bachira, Isagi, and Otoya to actually comprehend what Aryu was saying, and you squirmed under the weight of his gaze, which had the kind of gravity to it that made you think he was privy to some information that he didn’t plan on sharing but which he found entirely amusing regardless.

“Yes, of course,” you said, and even though the lie was entirely unconvincing, he only nodded, sweeping inside of the arcade without another word.

At first, it seemed like Reo must’ve gotten the wrong location, but then, rounding the corner, you saw Nagi sitting at one of the booths, controls in his hands, his sweet face scrunched into a frown as he shot down the enemy NPCs without flinching. You all waited for a second, but when he didn’t notice you standing behind him, Karasu wrestled him into a headlock with a chuckle.

“There you are, pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” he said, messing with Nagi’s 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, pinching the bridge of his nose in a manner not too dissimilar to an exhausted mother. “Classic Nagi.”

“Now that we’ve found him, it’s time to party!” Bachira said. “Tokimitsu, let’s go play darts!”

“Okay!” Tokimitsu said. You watched them go before trying to come up with something that you could do without embarrassing yourself. You weren’t the best with the arcade games, so you didn’t want to go for one of the complicated machines that Nagi seemed to prefer, because the likelihood that you’d just look like a fool in front of him was high.

“I’m heading over to the claw machine,” you said, as that was likely a safe bet, and in a worst-case scenario, you would at least get a plushie out of it. “Wanna come?”

You were talking to your best friend, but for some reason, Karasu, Aryu, and Otoya took this as an open invitation, coming along with you as you navigated towards the claw machine. You wrinkled your nose, because you had been hoping to have a moment alone to regroup and perhaps get another one of your best friend’s pep talks, which would’ve done a world of good for your rapidly dwindling confidence, yet now the very cause of your stress was strolling along at Karasu’s side without a care in the world.

In the middle of the claw machine was a panda plushie, and your eyes widened when you realized how similar it was to the one you had slept with all through your childhood. Your mother had accidentally thrown it away when your family had moved, right after you graduated elementary school, and although she had apologized fervently and scoured the internet for a suitable replacement, she had never managed to find one quite like it. You had long ago pushed it aside, pretending like you didn’t care, but now that you were faced with a near-replica, you were surprised to find your heart was twinging at the familiarity.

Your first attempt was, unfortunately, an abysmal failure. The claw gave out right before you were able to drop the plushie in the chute, probably because you were out of practice, as you didn’t typically go to the arcade unless you were forced to. Your hands must’ve wavered, your grip too weak or arms too unsteady; brushing it off, you took a deep breath and inserted another quarter into the machine, rolling your shoulders before trying again.

However, your second attempt went much like the first, the panda rolling back into the pile with the rest, its gleaming black-button eyes peering at you innocently, its paws perched atop the head of a brown dog. You swallowed, and even though you should’ve by all rights given up by now, you were so attached to the idea of this plushie that you couldn’t bring yourself to. Dropping your last quarter into the slot, you thought that there was a real merit to that old saying — third time’s the charm, or whatever. 

Yet, inexplicably, the exact same thing happened again. Just a few centimeters too early, the claw gave out, leaving you out of quarters and without a plushie alike.

“This has got to be rigged!” you said, smacking the glass of the machine and glaring accusingly at the panda. There was no way you had failed three times. You weren’t the greatest, but you weren’t nearly that bad! The only explanation was that the arcade had somehow tampered with the machine so that nobody could get any of the prizes.

“Move out of the way,” Otoya said, nudging you and taking the controls with the kind of ease that could only be borne of deep familiarity. You gaped at him, too confused to yell at him for his rude takeover and the way his upper arm was pressing against your own. “Let me show you how the masters get it done.”

“You call yourself a claw-machine master?” your best friend said critically. “What, do you practice or something?”

“Girls love it when you win stuffed animals for them,” Otoya said, fishing out a quarter from his coat pocket and inserting it into the machine. “Check out my flow!”

You were dumbfounded as he grabbed the exact plushie you wanted within seconds, expertly maneuvering it towards the chute with an intense kind of concentration.

“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,” your best friend breathed. She wasn’t wrong, exactly — Otoya was skillful, his fingers stable and face blank as he ensured the plushie was perfectly within the grasp of the claw. You would’ve complimented him if it wasn’t so infuriating that he was good at this, too.

“Stop shaking the machine, idiots, you’ll make him mess up,” Karasu said, pulling the two of them away by the backs of their collars, although he, too, seemed enthralled by Otoya’s prowess.

Right before the machine went dark and his turn ended, he lined the claw up with the chute, pressing the release button and snickering when the plushie dropped down it perfectly, without even a catch. Bending over to retrieve it, he brandished it in front of him, his expression unchanging, bar for a slight glimmer in his eyes.

“Bam,” he said, tossing it at you. “Ninja skills.”

It hit you in the face and fell to the ground, which drew a chuckle out of Karasu and was the cherry on the top of the entire event. How was it that you hadn’t managed to even get close, and yet Otoya had done it so effortlessly? He was completely unfazed, watching you as you crouched to pick up the panda, tucking it under your arm and praying your face conveyed the depths of your displeasure.

“You better not find yourself anywhere near the dartboards!” you said, already fantasizing about all of the things you could do with a set of darts and a target shaped like him. “I’m warning you, I have a bad aim, so look out!”

With that, you decided to join the darts competition Bachira had set up, hugging your stuffed animal as you stomped off, keeping your fingers crossed that Otoya would get the hint and stay far, far away from you for the rest of the day.

When you reached the area where the darts were being played, you were treated with two separate versions of the game being conducted concurrently. To the left, Nagi was standing in front of the board, his arms spread and his back to Bachira, Isagi, and Chigiri as the three of them took turns throwing darts in his direction, apparently to ‘punish’ him for standing them up or something.

“Hey, Y/N!” This was Tokimitsu, who was in the game on the right, along with Yukimiya and Reo. “Do you want to play with us?”

“If you guys don’t mind,” you said, waiting for Reo’s response specifically, thinking that this would probably be a good way of judging what he thought of you.

“Not at all!” Yukimiya said.

“It’s a bit late, but darts isn’t the kind of game where that matters,” Reo said.

“We’re not keeping score too closely, anyways,” Tokimitsu said. “So it’s not a problem!”

“If that’s the case, then sure,” you said. You had nothing better to do, and even though Reo was obviously lukewarm about you joining, Yukimiya and Tokimitsu, at least, seemed happy about your arrival, so you vowed to stay close to them for the most part.

“Who’s up next?” Reo said.

“It’s my turn, but I don’t mind if Y/N takes it,” Yukimiya said, smiling at you kindly and handing you a dart. You took it gratefully, squinting one eye closed and throwing it at the board, cheering when it hit one of the rings with a higher point value.

“Nice job!” Tokimitsu said.

“Yes, well done,” Reo said. “If you had been playing from the start, you’d probably be in the lead.”

“Thanks!” you said, stepping backwards so Yukimiya had space to go. “I was at the claw machine for a bit, which is why I’m late.”

“Is that where you got that stuffed animal?” Reo said, pointing at the panda you were cradling. Delighted by the chance to actually have a conversation with him, you nodded eagerly.

“Yes! I actually used to have one just like this when I was kid, but it ended up in the trash a while back. Seeing it here in the arcade was kind of like destiny in that sense,” you said.

“You must be really good at the claw machine if you managed to get something that big,” Reo said, writing down Yukimiya’s score and motioning for Tokimitsu to take his place. “I’ve been here with Nagi before, and it’s almost definitely rigged or something. Neither of us have ever won anything from it.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, overjoyed by his admission that both he and Nagi had struggled as well. “Well, actually, I wasn’t able to do it myself, so Otoya had to…but all’s well that ends well, right?”

Reo actually laughed at this, handing the scorecard to Yukimiya. You blinked, wondering what he possibly could’ve found funny in that, but he didn’t elaborate much, beyond simply saying: “Otoya, huh?”

“I guess he’s not entirely useless,” you said. “But that’s a single redeeming quality in a whole host of negative ones, so it doesn’t change anything.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, and you didn’t know why, but funnily enough, it sounded like he didn’t believe you in the slightest.

At some point in the tournament, your best friend and Karasu wandered over to where you were, taking in the scenery while doing their level best not to be the second-most disgusting couple to ever walk the face of this planet — the first, of course, being Otoya and whatever girl he had gone to that movie with.

“Who’s winning?” your best friend said.

“I think Yuki is up right now,” Reo said after evaluating the tally marks on the scorecard. “Although Tokimitsu’s catching up. It’s super close. Could be anyone’s game.”

“Now that you’re here, though, let’s go play rhyming ping-pong!” Bachira said, dropping the darts in his hands and batting his eyelashes at your best friend, who had after all promised she’d play with him.

“Who will we play against, though?” she said. 

“Nagi, for one,” Bachira said. You hoped that he didn’t volunteer you to be Nagi’s partner; as much as you would’ve loved to be associated with him in that way, you were awful at ping-pong, and you sensed that dragging Nagi down in a match against his friends wasn’t exactly the way to his heart.

“I don’t want to,” Nagi said. Bachira teasingly waved a dart towards him, which made Nagi’s sleepy frown deepen and his shoulders slump. “Okay, I will.”

“Then Tabito can be your teammate,” your best friend said.

“You’re challenging me?” Karasu said. “You’re going to regret that. Prepare to lose.”

“Bachira and I won’t let you get even a point, right, Bachira?” she shot back.

“That’s right!” Bachira said, high-fiving her and then dashing ahead as you all made your way over to where the ping-pong tables were at various speeds. You didn’t have any particular desire to get there before anyone else, so you walked at a leisurely pace, finding yourself alongside Hyoma Chigiri, whose older sister you had sat with during Blue Lock’s game against the U-20s. You and your best friend had kept in touch with Koyuki in the days following the match, so Hyoma seemed like far more of a friendly face than the rest, even though you had never actually met him.

“My sister told me that the two of you are friends,” he said when he noticed that you both had fallen into step. “It’s nice to meet you…Y/N?”

“Yup, and likewise! Your sister is very sweet,” you said, and you weren’t just saying that to be polite — Koyuki had been kind enough to listen to your ramblings, although you had hardly known one another at the time, and even now she would check in and ask you how things were going with regards to your quest for a boyfriend.

“She is,” Chigiri said, leaning on the wall next to you as you watched Karasu, Bachira, Nagi, and your best friend get into position for rhyming ping-pong.

“Are we starting?” Nagi said.

“Yeah, you can serve. Do you know how to play?” Karasu said.

“Not really,” Nagi said, and his dour voice suggested he didn’t much care, either. 

“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,” your best friend said, tossing her hair. “I’m first in the class for Modern Literature, so I know a lot of words.”

“Don’t underestimate Nagi,” Reo said, his pointer finger in the air for emphasis. “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,” you said, glancing between the two teams. On the one hand, there was Nagi, who, while no Reo, was certainly someone you’d never mind dating, but on the other, there was your best friend, who you had known for years. “Who do I root for?”

“Why’s it a question?” Chigiri said, giving you an odd look. “Wouldn’t you want to root for your best friend?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” you said, rolling your eyes, though it was mostly without malice. After all, it wasn’t like you wanted Chigiri to get it — the last thing you needed was Nagi finding out you thought he was attractive. You were fairly certain that that wouldn’t go well, especially if he came to know of it from someone else.

“Hmph,” Chigiri said. “Whatever.”

“Okay, are both sides ready?” Yukimiya said. He was the most impartial, given that he was friends with pretty much everyone on an equal level, so he had been chosen as the referee. Both teams 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 as you and Chigiri burst into laughter. “Out! Team Bachira wins!”

“What was that?” Karasu screeched as Bachira cheered before hurriedly saying something about karaoke and disappearing with Isagi and Reo.

“He must’ve gotten nervous in the face of Bachira and I’s combined prowess,” your best friend said.

“Not really. I just didn’t wanna play,” Nagi said.

“Is he always like this?” you whispered to Yukimiya as Karasu grabbed Nagi in his second headlock of the day. Nagi, for his part, was entirely unruffled, hanging limply in Karasu’s arms like a rag-doll.

“Nagi? Yeah, pretty much,” Yukimiya said. “He means well, but he’s generally one of the most unmotivated people you’ll meet. It’s not to say he isn’t kind or anything; he’s sweet, just lazy.”

“I see,” you said, weighing whether this trait could be considered endearing or irritating.

“Can we go see what Reo and the others are doing?” Nagi said, cutting into the conversation with a yawn. 

“Bachira said they were going for karaoke,” your best friend reminded everyone. “Maybe we should find Otoya and Aryu before joining them, though.”

“How about just Aryu?” you suggested, cheering up at the prospect of ditching Otoya for good and leaving him stranded in the arcade.

“I’ll text them,” Yukimiya said, just as the door creaked open. You sighed when Otoya peeked his head in, which earned you a slight eye roll from him but nothing more.

“No need. We’ve been looking for you guys for a while,” he said.

“Such unglam conduct, disappearing like that,” Aryu said.

“Sorry!” Tokimitsu said, covering his eyes with his hands in shame. Aryu patted him on the head comfortingly.

“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 declared as you walked towards where Isagi, Reo, and Bachira were apparently setting up for the rest of you.

“Hell yeah,” Karasu snickered. “We’ll knock everyone’s socks off. They’re not ready.”

“What song?” Tokimitsu said, in a rare show of unwavering confidence — although he immediately winced, which kind of detracted from the unprecedented lack of stuttering and apologizing. 

“Something with a lot of belting,” Otoya mused. You cringed at the mental image; you had heard Karasu sing before, and it wasn’t pretty. You doubted Otoya was any better, and if anything he was likely worse, so the thought of the two of them screaming out the lyrics to My Heart Will Go On or something like that was akin to torture.

“Please don’t,” you said. “I didn’t bring ear plugs, and I do value my hearing.”

“Wait a second,” your best friend said, right before either Karasu or Otoya could retort. “Hey, Tabito, Yukimiya — isn’t that Aiku from the U-20 squad?”

“Huh?” Karasu 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,” Karasu said, cracking his knuckles in what I was sure he thought was a menacing move.

“A fight?” Nagi said, which was the most interested you had ever heard him be in anything. He gazed at the U-20 squad with large, sleepy eyes, cocking his head slightly when they scowled back.

“Could be. I’m stoked,” Otoya said, and then, in an act beyond your comprehension, he struck what you could only describe as a pose from a ninja anime. You took it in with amazement, waiting for him to blush or realize what a clown he looked like, but when he did not, you dissolved into a fit of giggles, unable to take him seriously — not that you took him seriously in the first place, but this was just another addition to the long list of reasons why he was an idiot.

“Need backup, Isagi?” Yukimiya said, and although he was inadvertently threatening the others, the genial smile on his face didn’t drop for a second. “We’ve got you.”

“Ah, but don’t expect anything from me!” your best friend said with a peace sign. “I’ll cheer for you from the corner, though.”

“A girl? Hello—” Aiku began, though he was immediately interrupted by Karasu.

“Nope, don’t even think about it,” he said. You almost felt bad for him, considering how busy he had been defending his relationship to the rest, but then you remembered that he was friends with Otoya and figured that this was just his karma.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aiku said with a shrug.  

“What are you all doing here?” another one of the U-20 boys said. You didn’t remember his name, as you hadn’t paid attention to any of the others on the field during the game; it was probably something irrelevant, though, or else it would’ve been mentioned.

“Likely the same thing as you,” Chigiri said, which really should’ve been obvious.

“But in a more glam way, naturally,” Aryu added. This wasn’t quite as obvious, considering you still didn’t really understand what he meant when he talked about ‘glam’, but it was probably his way of complimenting you all, so you didn’t argue.

“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 said, lifting his hands in the air as a calming gesture. “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,” your best friend, who was the first to jump to insults but tended to cower from violence, agreed.

“Same,” you said before a genius idea occurred to you. “Though I wouldn’t mind too much if you roughed Otoya up a bit…”

“Hey!” Otoya said, straightening and turning to face you, his brows low over his eyes. You folded your arms over your chest and waited for him to say something further, but evidently, he decided it wasn’t worth it, because with a scoff, he turned his attention back to the others.

“The ladies have spoken,” Aiku said. “Bowling it is!”

With that, you all trudged to the nearby bowling alley. Your best friend was talking to Karasu, so you were left to shove your hands in your pockets and wander along by yourself as you often did, your thoughts going down trailing paths, the silence serving as an effective conduit.

In the time you had been hanging out with the Blue Lock players, what had you really accomplished? The only ones who could stand you were the ones you would not or could not date; the ones you were actually interested in obviously wanted nothing to do with you, and in truth, you couldn’t blame them.

Raising the panda plushie Otoya had won for you up in the air, you waited for its shiny black eyes to reflect some kind of answer to you. Of course, they didn’t, so with a heavy exhale, you held it to your chest, tucking your chin over it, thinking that maybe the steady pressure would dissipate the choking sensation creeping into your throat.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the bowling alley was that, right next to the lane that Karasu and the others had picked for you, there was a boy bowling all on his own. His enormous back was to you all, but there was something familiar about his spiky dark hair, and when he successfully got a strike and turned to retrieve a new ball, you gasped.

“Psst!” you said, shaking your best friend on the shoulder. “Check it out! It’s Shoei Barou!”

“He’s bowling all by himself?” she said, not even questioning you. “Huh, that’s a little startling. The more you know, I guess.”

“It’s kind of cute, if I’m being honest,” you said, trying to come up with the words to explain what you meant. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re a friendless loner! I need you so badly.”

That made sense enough in your mind, but your best friend clearly wasn’t impressed. That was probably a good thing; from what you had heard, it usually didn’t go well when two friends liked the same guy, and you were glad that your entirely opposite tastes meant you avoided that situation entirely, even if it did lead to this type of disconnect every now and again.

“There’s a lid for every pot,” she said eventually. “Well, what’s your plan? You’ve got Reo, Barou, Nagi, and Isagi all in one room. Who’re you going to go for?”

You were about to tell her that it didn’t matter — that no matter who you went for, the outcome would likely be the same, but she looked so happy that you couldn’t bring yourself to. After all, she had given up an entire day with her boyfriend just to help you, and the thought of how crestfallen she’d be if you just gave up was crushing. She’d never say anything, of course she wouldn’t, but even if she thought it for a moment, it would be enough to make you feel guilty for months. It wasn’t her fault you were such a failure at — at everything.

“Let’s weigh the pros and cons. That should help us come to a proper conclusion,” you said. It was the best thing you could think of. Perhaps she’d even be able to come up with something that you hadn’t yet considered, in which case you were all ears.

“Got it,” she said. “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.”

That was about what you were thinking, but coming from her, it all sounded even worse. Koyuki had cheered you up during the game, but she couldn’t change the truth of the matter, which was that you had never had a chance in the first place. Whatever additional luck you had gained via your connection to Karasu was canceled out by Otoya’s presence, and so it was with trepidation that you next spoke.

“And, uh, the pros?”

“Uh….at least Nagi’s opinion of you isn’t bad?” she said. “And you haven’t had the chance to make a terrible impression on Barou yet.”

“That’s it?” you said. If even she with her keen eye hadn’t been able to pick up anything that was actually in your favor, then you supposed you might as well just give up now and go home. A nap in your bed, your actual bed, not the one you were sleeping in at your aunt’s place, was sounding more and more appealing, least of all because you could cry there where no one would hear you.

“Sorry,” she said. “But kind of. It’s not looking good.”

“What do I do, then?” you said. Your voice sounded too close to hinting at what you were really feeling, so you forced yourself to dramatize your feelings, romanticize them, the way you always did. “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,” she said, meaning you had been successful. “There’s always Aiku. He seems like he’d take anything on legs for a date or two.”

Aiku was standing next to Otoya, which completely detracted from his handsome face, and the two of them were flirting with a pair of girls, which completely detracted from his kind personality. He was exactly the kind of guy you had been told to avoid for as long as you could remember, and you exchanged looks with your best friend.

“I’d rather die alone,” you said, only half in jest. 

“That kind of relationship wouldn’t last,” she 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 may be right about that,” you said, following after her as she made her way to where Karasu, Barou, and the others were sitting, vowing that you would do everything in your power to make it work out this time. Maybe Reo was lost cause, and maybe Nagi and Isagi were, too, but Barou couldn’t be. He couldn’t be. 

All you had to do was avoid Otoya, and given the size of the bowling alley, that wouldn’t be too difficult. Yes, you could do that, and then—

“You’re the girls from the edits!”

You stopped in your tracks as someone tapped you on the shoulder, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you with her hands clasped together.

“Yeah, we are,” your best friend said in response to the other girl, who was the one that had spoken. You chanced a glance at Aiku and Otoya, who both looked more than a little angry that you had accidentally interrupted their attempts at getting dates, and then a pit opened up in your stomach as the second half of that duo registered in your mind. Otoya. You had somehow happened upon the very person you had sworn, not even a few seconds ago, to avoid like the plague, lest you embarrass yourself in front of Barou, too.

“No way!” the girl in front of you said. “You and your boyfriend are my sister and her boyfriend’s profile pictures!”

At first, you thought she must be talking to your best friend, but when she kept her attention on you, you bit your lower lip, trying to discern what she meant.

“Boyfriend?” you said unsurely. “I’m single, though?”

Single against your will, of course, but nevertheless single, which was why you were so puzzled.

“The guy you gave the middle finger to at the Blue Lock vs U-20 match! Aren’t you two dating?” she said.

“No!” you and Otoya said at the same time, understanding crashing over you like a tidal wave. When you noticed that he, too, had denied it, and rather vehemently at that, you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Wait, I didn’t recognize you because of the hat, but you’re the confused player that she flipped off!” the girl said to him. “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,” your best friend 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!” she said before dashing off, right as you finished processing the girl’s request.

“You…want me to take a picture…with him?” you said.

“The sentiment is mutual,” Otoya said.

“Yes, please!” the girl said. 

“But why?” you said, looking over your shoulder towards where Barou was standing and yelling at Nagi. He took no note of you, but who knew how long that would last? How long would it take before he saw you doing something stupid, as you were apparently prone to doing when you were around Otoya? 

“Just be quick,” Otoya said, standing stiffly beside you and plastering a smile on his face. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered to you, “Come on, let’s get this over with. They’ll make a big deal out of it if we don’t.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you said through your teeth, pretending to grin as the girl took out her phone and began to take photos of you, cooing all the while. “You’re just going along with it because you want her.”

“So what?” he said.

“Could the two of you get closer?” she said. “It doesn’t even look like you like each other.”

“Yeah, normally when people flip each other off, that’s the reason,” you said as Otoya wrapped an arm around your shoulders. It was heavy and warm, and to boot, he smelled pleasantly sweet, not like grass at all. You couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, that was the most upsetting news you had ever received, so you wiggled out of his embrace, stepping on his foot for good measure. “Ugh, get off of me!”

“What is your problem?” he said.

“You better stay a minimum of two bodies away from me at all times, you contagious little spore! I don’t want to be infected with the green hair disease!” you snapped. 

“There’s so many things wrong with what you just said, I’m not sure where I should begin,” he said. “For one, I may have been a horrible student, but even I know that hair color isn’t contagious!”

“Oh, you didn’t need to mention that you were a horrible student, it’s more than clear!” you said, aware even as you said it that you were doing it again. What was it about him, that you were driven to such irrationality? What was it about Otoya that made you act this way, and why couldn’t you stop? Whatever it was, it only made you hate him more. 

“As clear as your inability to get a boyfriend?” he said. “Because that’s pretty clear.”

“Uh, I think we have enough pictures,” the girl said nervously, although she went ignored by you and Otoya alike.

“Seriously?” you said. “Well, you—!”

“Alright, guys, enough causing a scene,” a soft voice said, and then there were warm hands clasping your shoulders. “Come on…Y/N, was it? Barou’s making me get drinks for everyone before I leave, so help me carry them back. Otoya, Yukimiya’s looking for you. I think he has to ask you something.”

“Ah, sure, Isagi,” Otoya said, padding over to where the others were sitting and attempting to school their expressions into masks of indifference from the varying degrees of shock they had been twisted into. Isagi waited for him to be seated before steering your around the corner, and you were too astonished to protest as you got into the soda line.

“You’re a funny person,” Isagi said as you waited in the queue. “I can’t believe how much you detest Otoya. It’s almost out of the realms of probability. Did you guys date before or something?”

“Don’t flatter him,” you said, albeit weakly, your head spinning at how carried away you had gotten. “He’d never be so fortunate.”

“Hm,” Isagi said. “So it’s just a commonplace dislike.”

“Pretty much,” you said. 

“Maybe a little more than commonplace,” he added with a wry smirk. “I don’t think that a typical enmity leads to a shouting match in a bowling alley.”

“Were we shouting?” you said.

“Otoya’s pretty quiet, so for him, yeah, I’d say it was,” Isagi said. “You know, it’s kind of incredible that you’re able to rile him up like that.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“We like to joke that Otoya’s face is made of stone,” Isagi mused. “Not in the way that Rin’s is, because that’s an entirely different scenario, but he’s just so unflappable that it’s rare to see him as anything but straight-faced. He’s the go-with-the-flow type, and he doesn’t care enough about anything to ever raise his voice. The fact that you make him mad is really something.”

“My secret talent,” you said, pretending to chuckle. “Pissing Otoya off almost as much as he pisses me off. It’s only fair; I mean, he keeps ruining things for me, so the least he can do is be bothered for it in return.”

Miraculously, Isagi didn’t question what you meant by that. He only nodded, reading off the names of the drinks Barou had written for him in a list and handing them to you, telling you to hang in there and then slipping out of the alley before you could ask him what you were supposed to be hanging in there for.

“Isagi’s right,” Karasu said the next day, after you had recounted the events in the bowling alley. Using his straw to stir the leftovers of your best friend’s milkshake, he took a contemplative sip. “Otoya really isn’t the kind of person who gets upset at anything, so it’s out of the ordinary for him to actually be mad at you.”

“I always knew you were special,” your best friend joked, biting off the end of a French fry. The two of them were sitting across from you at a restaurant near your aunt’s apartment, listening to your version of the argument you had had with Otoya and the mysterious words Isagi had left you with.

“I couldn’t tell you why, though,” Karasu said. 

“Aren’t you guys best friends?” you said.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve known him for years or anything. Plus, I avoid talking about stuff like that with him. The more I learn about his habits with girls, the lower my opinion of him falls, so I try not to think about it, for the sake of our friendship and all,” Karasu said.

“Why’re you friends with him in the first place, then?” your best friend said.

“Believe it or not, he’s one of the saner people in Blue Lock. They were all being nice to you yesterday, but rest assured, they’re completely different on the field,” Karasu said. 

“In a bad way?” you said.

“Majorly,” he said. “Speaking of which, I heard that you’re into Isagi and Barou?”

“Don’t forget Nagi and Reo,” your best friend added. Thankfully, Karasu didn’t tease you for the diverse set of options, only considering it carefully.

“You can give up on Nagi and Isagi. Not your fault, but they’re, uh…weird?” Karasu said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said.

“Let’s just say that neither of them are the type that I’d want anyone I know dating,” he said. “Nagi’s cute and all, but unless he really loves you, you’d end up being more of a mother than a girlfriend.”

“Automatic no,” your best friend. “What about Isagi? What’s wrong with him?”

“What isn’t wrong with him?” Karasu said rhetorically. When neither of you laughed, he pouted. “Never mind. Look, just trust me on that one.”

“That’s not an issue, though! Reo and Barou were her favorites to begin with,” your best friend said.

“You can’t really go wrong with either of them. Barou’s a major ass to play with, but he’s chill otherwise, I think,” Karasu said. His clinical analysis of your prospects was, in a way, comforting — he, at least, didn’t think you were entirely doomed. And wasn’t analysis his whole thing, anyways? So he was probably onto something here.

“Is there one that would be better than the other, though?” you said.

“Er, given recent events, maybe Barou might be a bit more of a blank slate. So to speak,” Karasu said. He didn’t mention Otoya, but all three of you knew that that was who he was referring to. You wondered if there’d ever be a time when you didn’t think of him so readily, when his name wasn’t linked with yours so inextricably, the way it was online, where the photos of you two together were already making the rounds.

“Barou’s a great choice!” your best friend said encouragingly. “He can probably carry you with one arm, remember?”

“Is that what you came to my game to talk about? You suck,” Karasu said, tsk’ing at your best friend. “But yes, as someone who’s had to train with Barou, he definitely could.”

“Wow,” you said.

“That’s what you said when you first saw him,” your best friend pointed out. “‘Wow.’ It’s basically your love language. Okay, Tabito! That’s settled, then. We’ll get Y/N and Barou to have a date whenever you’re on your next break from Blue Lock!”

“Don’t we have to ask Barou first?” you said.

“He’ll say yes, don’t worry,” Karasu said. “He’s not actually that popular. If he doesn’t, I’ll find someone else for you, don’t worry.”

“Someone good,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “Whoever it is, I’ll probably have to go on double dates with them, so trust me, I’ll be picky.”

“Thanks,” you said, because Karasu actually was the persnickety type, so if he was promising it, then it would happen in that way.

The rest of the break flew by. In an effort to avoid third-wheeling your best friend and Karasu, you took to exploring Tokyo by yourself, sitting in cafes and catching up on your winter homework, studying for exams while sipping on tea in a window seat. Maybe it was a little lonely, but you liked it, and if anything, you were productive, which you couldn’t always say you were.

Before you knew it, you and your best friend were packing up to go home. As much as you had enjoyed your vacation and the time off from school, you were glad to be going back to normalcy — everything about the trip, especially the day you had spent with the Blue Lock boys, was more like a fever dream in hindsight. The only things reminding you that it was real were the stuffed panda sitting amongst the nest of pillows in your bed and the occasional comments from your classmates, who all found it as hard to believe as you did that you were some kind of internet micro-celebrity.

“You’re the last person I would’ve expected to become famous by accident,” one of Karasu’s teammates from the high school club told you, the first day you were back at school. Even though Karasu himself was gone, his teammates and friends still sat with you and your best friend’s group. You all had amalgamated into a larger collective at some point, and even though you weren’t particularly close with any of them, you’d still count them as more than acquaintances.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said.

“Look, all I’m saying is her, I get,” he said, pointing at your best friend. “But you’ve always been way happier just hanging out in the background and letting other people be the center of attention.”

“Maybe I want to be the center of attention every now and then,” you said placidly, without a hint of sharpness. 

“You? No way,” he said, guffawing as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “That was funny, Y/N.”

“Ha, ha,” you said. “Anyways, like you said, it was by accident. Most of the blame can be assigned to that squeezed-out tube of toothpaste, Otoya.”

“Are you talking about Otoya?” another one of your friends said with a squeal, leaning away from your best friend and fluttering her eyelashes at you. “Y/N, you’re insanely lucky. He’s so cute.”

“Seriously?” you said. “You watched the entire game and decided that he was the one? You need your eyes checked if that’s the case.”

“He’s really good-looking!” she insisted. “If you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him.”

“He’s all yours,” you said. “And don’t ever suggest I might want him again.”

It was a couple of months later that your best friend told you the Blue Lock boys were going on break again, and that this time, unlike the last, you had a confirmed reason to go along with her to meet Karasu — Shoei Barou had agreed to take you out for a date.

“There’s no way!” you said, holding your phone in between your ear and your shoulder as you threw as many clothes as you could fit into your small suitcase. “I mean, seriously, how did Karasu convince him?”

“He didn’t have to try very hard,” your best friend said. “It’s like he mentioned: Barou’s not actually that popular. I mean, after the Neo-Egoist League, yeah, he has a lot of fans, but back when he was in high school, he didn’t have too many friends, so as soon as Karasu brought it up, he was alright with it.”

“That makes sense,” you said, butterflies beating frantic wings into your intestines as you wrapped a pair of shoes in plastic and tucked them into your bag’s front pocket. “Tell Karasu I said thank you.”

“You can thank him by being normal at your dinner with Barou,” she said.

“Wait!” you said. “What am I even supposed to do when I’m on the date?”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“Like, what do I talk about? What do I order? What do I do with my hands while I’m sitting there? How long should I hold eye contact? Actually, should I even be holding eye contact in the first place?” you said.

“First of all, you need to relax. Especially for a first date, you’re just trying to get to know him, so think about it like hanging out with a friend and go from there. If the two of you get along, then things will flow naturally and you won’t have to think about all of this stuff,” she said.

“And if we don’t?” you said. She didn’t answer, and after a second, you snorted. “Okay, sorry, dumb question.”

“Very much so. If you don’t get along, then it’s no big deal. We’ll find someone else and work from there, but first, do me a favor: don’t go into things with any expectations, because one thing I can say for certain is that absolutely nothing will go the way you want it to — for better or for worse,” she said.

“That makes me feel worse than I did when I called you,” you said.

“I know, but it’s the truth. Like I said, it’s not always a bad thing. In fact, it’s usually good; life has a funny way of working itself out, in my experience, but that means you have to trust that whatever’s happening to you is happening for a reason,” she said.

“What if it’s hard, though? And what if the things that are happening are terrible?” you said.

“Sometimes they are,” she said thoughtfully. “But you have to get through those types of situations, too, or else you’ll never get to the good part.”

Her final exam had been rescheduled, so she would be joining you and the others in the city a couple of days later than originally anticipated, meaning that you would have to get ready and go on your date without her helping you through it. She had apologized countless times, and Karasu had even offered to ask Barou if he was willing to change your plans, but you had assured both that it was alright, even if you were panicking internally. You wanted her to do well on her test, and you didn’t want to be too much of a pain to Barou, for fear that he would give up on you entirely instead of just switching the day of the reservation.

The restaurant was fancier than you had expected, and you tugged at your sleeves, adjusting your shirt, even though nothing was wrong with it. Averting your eyes from the hostess who led you back to the table where Barou was already waiting, you slid into your chair and grabbed a menu to hide your face behind.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, even though it was 7:00 exactly, which was when Karasu had told you the reservation was for.

“It’s okay,” Barou said. “I ordered water for us both. I hope that’s alright.”

“Perfectly fine,” you said. “Have you been here before?”

“No, but it has high ratings online, and it’s close to the area where Karasu said you’re staying, so I thought it was a safe bet,” he said. Nothing about his voice nor yours was natural, and after that, the two of you fell silent entirely. You obsessively read and reread the menu, although you had decided a while back what you wanted to order, and Barou picked at invisible bits of skin on his nails, his lips pursed all the while. 

For years and years, you had dreamt of what your first date would be like. You had spent so long waiting to find the perfect person, the perfect guy to be your boyfriend, and now here he was, sitting right across from you, and yet neither of you could muster up a single word to say to each other.

Even the waitress seemed weirded out when she came to drop off your waters and ask what you wanted to eat. You both started to speak at the same time, stopping and looking at each other unsurely before Barou motioned for you to go first. Once you were done, the waitress repeated your orders with a hint of incredulity. You were sure that, as soon as she got to the kitchen, she’d launch into a story about the strange couple at the table in the corner that refused to talk to one another, tittering with amusement at the bizarreness of it all. It was what you would do, if you were in her place.

“We’ve been having good weather lately,” you said when the quiet became too unbearable. “The winter was so cold, but it’s better now.”

“I’ve been inside the facility,” Barou reminded you. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right.”

“It is lovely out, though,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said. “Warm.”

“Exactly,” he said, and then neither of you continued with the pitiful attempt at conversation, both waiting for the other to do something until the waitress returned with your food and you were blissfully given an excuse to keep your mouth shut. 

You ate as quickly as you could, blotting at your lips with a napkin periodically and handling your fork and knife without much finesse. Barou was the opposite, cutting his food up into meticulous pieces and taking small bites, chewing each carefully and thoroughly before swallowing. You were almost fascinated by the delicacy, which was so unlike everything you had expected from him that you couldn’t reconcile the version of him that you thought you knew and the one you were presented with.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom really quickly,” you said when you were finished with your meal and Barou was about three-quarters of the way through. He nodded, clearly relieved — at this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he just wanted to eat his food in peace, without your fumbling presence bringing down his mood.

The bathroom was down a hallway, with the women’s room to the right and the men’s directly across from it. You didn’t actually have to use it, but you just wanted some time away from the oppressive, hefty awkwardness that was your date, so you stood in front of a well-lit mirror and fiddled with your appearance, fixing minor imperfections that nobody else would notice but served as a way for you to waste time.

When you could find nothing else to mess with, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend a sad face. You’d explain it to her later, when she was finally here, but for now, that would have to be enough to sum up your night.

Washing your hands to rinse off the stickiness that being in a public bathroom always made you imagine, you dried them before using your shoulder to open the door, your phone in your hands as you saw your best friend had already responded with a question mark and a ‘do you want to talk about it’.

You were just about to reply to her that you would, but your inattention led you to running face-first into someone as they exited the men’s bathroom. Your phone slipped from your hands, bouncing onto the plush carpet and landing right at the feet of the person you had crashed into; you thought that you might as well die from shame instead of stooping over to retrieve it, because that really seemed like the more palatable path at the moment.

“I am so sorry!” you said, squatting to grab your phone, because dying wasn’t really an option and it would be worse if you just stood there.

“No worries,” he said, already scooping it up and extending his hand towards you before freezing, your phone still dangling in his grasp. “Hold on a second. Y/N?”

Your jaw dropped as you locked eyes with Otoya, who was, for some reason, standing across from you in the dim corridor, your phone in his hands and his eyebrows raised. A million questions crossed your mind just then: what was he doing here? Why now? Was he with someone, and if so, who? But one was forefront, and before you could stop yourself, you were grabbing onto his shoulders, your fingertips digging into the fabric of his white shirt, wrinkling it into small divots.

“You,” you said. “Why are you always around when things go wrong?”

“What?” he said, the way he always said everything: detached, airy, and vaguely condescending. “I don’t even know what problems you’re having right now, so how do they have anything to do with me?”

“It’s not — you don’t cause them!” you said. “You’re just…always there for them. You know how some people have a good luck charm?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Well, you’re my bad luck charm! You cause me difficulties without even trying, and the worst part is that I can’t even do anything about it, because you’re always there. You keep appearing! Why the hell are you even here in the first place?” you said, and then tears were pricking at your eyes, because logically, you knew Otoya was right. He had nothing to do with the fact that Barou didn’t like you, that was your fault and your fault alone, but wasn’t it easier to blame him? He was always there. He was always easier to point a finger at than yourself.

“I’m having dinner with my sister,” he said, slowly and mockingly, like you were a small child. “What about you, hm? Eating alone?”

“I—”

“Otoya?”

Before you could explain anything, you were cut off by a perplexed Barou, who was looking at you and Otoya, obviously lost by what, exactly, he was faced with. Only a second later, you understood that the position you were in was the slightest bit compromising, so you dropped your hands from his shoulders, taking a step back and brushing yourself off hastily.

“Barou?” Otoya said. “What are you doing here? Is this some kind of reunion that I’ve stumbled on? Where are the others?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Barou said.

“We’re on a date, you overgrown caterpillar,” you muttered under your breath. “Now can you fuck off?”

“A date?” he said. When Barou didn’t deny it, he chuckled. “Yikes, I’m sorry for interrupting, then — although, I wouldn’t have, if someone was watching where they were going when they were leaving the bathroom.”

“I’m sure your sister is waiting for you, so how about you get back to her and leave us alone?” you said, your smile sickly sweet. “And give me my phone back.”

“Have fun, you two,” Otoya said, dropping it into your waiting palm. “Y/N, try not to drive Barou insane, yeah? We need him to play in the U-20 World Cup.”

“Go play with box dye or whatever it is you do in your free time,” you said. “Come on, Barou. Let’s go pay and get out of here.”

“I already did,” he said. “I was just coming over to use the bathroom myself while I waited for you to come back.”

“Ah,” you said as you made your way to the door. “How much was it? I don’t mind giving you my half.”

“Forget about it,” he said. “I’m the one who asked you on a date, technically, so I’m the one who should pay.”

“Not like I was much of a date,” you said.

“Not like I was much of one, either,” he countered. “I doubt we said a total of fifty words to each other combined.”

“I’m not good at talking to people,” you said. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“You certainly didn’t have any problems talking with Otoya,” he said.

“What?” you said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he said. “How am I supposed to know? It’s just an observation. I’m not mad about it or anything, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

“You’re the one who said it, so I feel like if anyone were to know, it’d be you,” you said. “But anyways, whatever you’re thinking, it’s incorrect. Simply put, Otoya’s an asshole. A major-league jerk. He’s annoying and rude and he always acts like he’s better than me, even though he isn’t, and he shows up at the worst moments just to cause problems for me, even unknowingly, and I’d be able to forgive him if it was just once, but it’s always! And you know what? He doesn’t ever apologize, either! He doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t even think he’s done anything wrong and he’s the worst, he’s totally the worst—”

Your indignant rant petered off when you saw that, to your horror, Barou was laughing. That was the most open you had seen him all night, and you were surprised to note that he looked different when he laughed. Kinder. Less severe. Like someone you might actually get along with, if you had met him without knowing who he was.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you say, maybe ever,” he elaborated. 

“So?” you said.

“So nothing,” he said. “I’m washing my hands of this. Thank you for coming to dinner with me, Y/N. I wish you the best.”

“You, too,” you said, recognizing when to stop pushing. Barou clearly had no interest in explaining further, and in truth he probably couldn’t — he was the sort that didn’t understand emotions and relationships and other such sensitivities particularly well, at least according to Karasu. “Thank you, as well. I…had a nice night.”

Barou snorted at this before waving and telling you you should stop lying to yourself so much. You weren’t sure why he thought you were in the business of lying to yourself frequently, but he seemed convinced of it, which meant there was a chance you really were.

Your best friend and Karasu were sympathetic when they heard of how your date went, although when you mentioned Otoya, both of them exchanged looks that you could not decipher. You could not tease the meaning out of them, either, so you were left frustratingly in the dark, with only their assurances that it wasn’t anything bad.

After the disaster with Barou, you decided to swear off of dating until further notice. You doubted that there was anyone who would even want to date you, anyways, so it wasn’t a particularly difficult thing to do, and although you still felt envy stinging deep within you whenever you saw the relationships your friends were all building, you managed to choke it down far enough that you could pretend it wasn’t there.

“Y/N!” your mother shouted at you. It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you were lounging on the couch in your pajamas, watching a romance movie while eating your breakfast, since you had nothing better to do with your time. “Can you get the mail, please?”

“Sure!” you shouted back. She was expecting a check for some event she had worked at, so she had grown quite preoccupied with ensuring one of you got the mail as soon as it was delivered, and you supposed today was your turn.

Shoving your feet in a pair of slippers, you plodded down to the end of the driveway, opening the mailbox and rifling through the letters in the box in search of anything of note. For the most part, it was advertisements and newspapers, but at the very bottom of the pile, you noticed a cream envelope addressed to you.

“Was my check there?” your mother said as you returned to the house, dumping the stack of papers onto the counter and retrieving a letter-opener from the drawer it stayed in.

“Nope,” you said. “But this was.”

“What is that?” she said.

“No idea, but it says it’s for me,” you said, slicing the envelope open and unfolding its contents before frowning. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” she said. You slid the letter across the counter to her.

“It’s an invite from the JFU,” you said. “To some ‘friends and family of Blue Lock’ gala thingie. I don’t know how I qualify as a friend or family of Blue Lock, though…”

“Maybe because you went to their first game, back against the U-20s?” your mother suggested. “They might’ve just invited everyone with seats in the Blue Lock section, given how small it was and how it was pretty much entirely family members. I doubt they were looking too closely at the names of the people they sent tickets to.”

“But that was almost two years ago, and I wasn’t there under my own name,” you said, before you immediately rolled your eyes at yourself. “Hold on. I think I know what’s happening here.”

Before she could question you further, you ran upstairs, clicking on your best friend’s contact and hitting the green call button next to her name. She picked up on the first ring, and she didn’t even wait for you to speak before bursting into laughter.

“Bitch,” you said. “Why’d you invite me to that shit?”

“I just explained to the JFU how I managed to attend a game twice,” she said innocently, although her continued laughter didn’t support her case much.

“There’s no way I’m going,” you said. “I think Blue Lock is bad for my health, or at least my pride.”

“I already told Karasu you would, and he told the others, who are all super excited to see you again!” she said.

“No, they’re not,” you said.

“Okay, well, maybe not all of them, but Tokimitsu, Aryu, Yukimiya, and Chigiri are,” she said.

“Really?” you said. “Oh. I guess if Karasu already told them I’d come, then it’ll be disappointing if I don’t.”

“Something like that, yes,” she said.

“But you still suck,” you said. “And I’m mad about it.”

“Mhm, whatever you say,” she said. “We can go shopping for clothes after lunch, if you want.”

“Fine,” you said. “I guess if you insist.”

“Yay!”

You had been expecting to have to tag along with your best friend and Karasu during the gala, given that you didn’t have a date nor any interest in procuring one, but to your surprise, none other than Aryu offered to accompany you.

“It’s just as friends, of course,” your best friend assured you as you opened yet another box of shoes, holding one against the dress you had bought and then putting it back without even trying it on when you found it didn’t quite match. “Aryu says he refuses to attend the gala with someone who doesn’t match his levels of…glam?”

“And he thinks I do?” you said.

“You have a simple, understated glam to you,” she said. “Direct quote, by the way. I have no idea what he meant, so don’t shoot the messenger.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a compliment?” you said. She shrugged.

“Nobody knows what he’s talking about half of the time,” she said. “But for what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing simple about your ‘glam.’”

“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate it. Or, do I?”

“It’s a good thing,” she assured you, presenting you with a new box of shoes. “Try these on. They’ll go perfectly with the dress you got.”

“Woah,” you said when her words proved to be correct. “How’d you do that?”

“I’m pretty good at knowing what you need,” she said, patting you on the shoulder, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but it seemed to you that in that instant, she was talking about more than shoes.

The flash of cameras blinded you as Aryu helped you out of the sparkling white car, his fingers cold against your wrist, at odds with the warmth in his grin. You fought back the urge to squeeze your eyes closed, knowing that you’d look entirely stupid in the press coverage of the event if your lids were screwed shut, and instead you did your best to maintain a serene expression, your mouth curved at the edges and your brow free of creases. Aryu offered you his arm, and you took it without a second thought, although you did giggle when he winked at you so suggestively it could not be anything but a joke.

“Is this not the most glam moment of your life?” he said, leading you up the stairs of the hotel where the gala was being held. You shook your head in amusement, gripping his forearm as hard as you could to ensure you did not trip over the velvety carpet.

“I still don’t know what you mean by that,” you said.

“It’s a functional word,” he mused, pausing so that you could pose for pictures. You followed his lead for the most part, content with being a mere accessory to his splendor, his charming ease with the media. “Means whatever your heart says it means.”

“Then yes,” you said. “I’d say this is the most glam moment of my life.”

“Miss L/N! Miss L/N, a moment please!”

A microphone was shoved in your face before you knew what was happening, and you glanced at Aryu unsurely, wondering why you had been singled out amidst all of the players and their dates, many of whom were famous models, singers, and actresses. He shrugged at you, clearly as confused as you were, and then he knocked the microphone a little further away, so that it wasn’t all but up your nose.

“Uh, yes?” you said, playing with your fingers as you smiled at the interviewer. He was a middle-aged man, his hair grey at his temples, and his grin reminded you of a wide-mouthed whale.

“You’re here with Jyubei Aryu, correct?” he said.

“I am,” you said, even though you thought it should’ve been obvious you were.

“Who’s next on your list, then?” he said. 

“What?” you said. The man leaned closer to you, holding the microphone to his lips, which were fat and trembling like slugs in repose.

“Which player will you toy with next?” he said.

“I’m not — toy with?” you sputtered, and it was only Aryu’s firm presence on your left which kept you from wavering. “What the hell are you—?”

“Will that be all, or do you have any actual questions to ask her?” Aryu said, cutting you off before you could say something terribly uncouth.

“Everyone is wondering!” the man defended, knuckles reddening around the microphone. “What are your thoughts, Aryu, sir? Are you aware of…it?”

“Of what? This ridiculous exchange?” Aryu said. “Unfortunately, I am, and furthermore, I’d like for it to be over.”

“No, the love affair between your date, Y/N L/N, and your own teammate — Eita Otoya!” he exclaimed.

“That’s none of my concern. Miss L/N agreed to come with me as a friend, so who she chooses to love is her business alone,” he said.

“Otoya?” you said. “You — I — there is no love affair!”

“There he is now,” the interviewer said with a smirk, dipped in oil and drowned in grease, lathered with satisfaction at your indignation. “You know, it seems to me like he’d disagree with that, Miss L/N.”

You shifted slightly, looking over your shoulder at the driveway, where a black car was driving off, its passenger already exited. Of course, there was your ghost, your familiar bad-luck charm, the one you could never escape from in any way that mattered, no matter how hard the both of you tried: Otoya, his hands in his pockets, his tie a pale green, the same pear shade as his eyes, which, uncomfortably and heavily, were trained on you.

Although he was at the bottom of the staircase and you were already almost at the top, you could see the way his expression was dancing, something no doubt playing at the tip of his tongue, something you wagered would be purposefully designed to infuriate you. You frowned at him, wishing he were closer, wishing he were at your side, even, so that you could tell him that he looked terrible, like a twig of mint sprung to life, that his hair was too messy for such an important event, falling haphazardly onto his pale forehead, and that he should’ve worn a darker tie, to match better with his suit.

“Come along, Y/N,” Aryu murmured, tugging you forwards and away from the interviewer, stealing your attention from Otoya. “Let’s go inside. It’s starting to rain.”

“Ah, right,” you said, shaking your head to clear it, allowing him to lead you into the hotel lobby, towards the hall where red roses bloomed in crystal vases upon the centers of the many white-draped tables. “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“It’s supposed to stop in an hour or two. I’m sure it’ll be over by the time we’re leaving,” he said. “Which table are we, again?”

“8,” you said without even pulling your tickets out. You had memorized them two nights ago, front and back, in a fit of nerves. This was your first time at anything more fancy than your high school graduation; you had no idea what to expect, and, considering how things tended to go for you, you had randomly become convinced that it would turn out awful and you might as well skip the event entirely. You had woken up the next morning and felt marginally better, but the damage had been done and the images of the tickets were engraved into your mind.

“Wonderful,” Aryu said as you reached your table. “This is a nice location, so I’m pleased.”

“Y/N? Oh my goodness, hi!”

Before you could sit down, you were being tackled by a red blur. You grunted as you caught Koyuki Chigiri’s body in your arms, wrapping them around her waist subconsciously. She crushed you with more force than she should’ve been able to exert, given her slight frame, and you tucked your chin on her shoulder, glad for the familiar face.

“Hi, Koyuki. Are you sitting here, too?” you said when she finally let you go, just as you were about to run out of air. She nodded at you eagerly, darting back to her seat, across from the chair Aryu had pulled out for you.

“Yup, I am! Hyoma asked me to come along with him, since he didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding an actual date and I was already invited, but I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone else and might have to spend the entire event clinging to my little brother’s sleeve,” she said.

“Nothing of the sort, don’t worry,” you said, sitting and hanging your purse on the back of your chair. “Where is Hyoma?”

“He went to see what non-alcoholic drinks they’re serving at the bar,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon!”

“He’s really been doing well this season,” you said. “Not that I keep up with soccer much, but I see highlights on social media and all. His team’s lucky to have him.”

“I’m just so pleased he’s enjoying himself again,” Koyuki said. “For a while, right after he tore his ACL, I thought he’d never enjoy soccer again. I watched him lose himself…it was the worst, because there wasn’t anything I could do about it, but I should’ve had more faith in him. He found himself again, all on his own.”

“Who did what?” This was Hyoma himself, returning with a flute of something gold and bubbly in his hand. “Oh, hey, Y/N, Aryu.”

“Hey,” you said. “What’ve you got there?”

“Sparkling apple cider,” he said with a winsome grin. “It looks like champagne, though, doesn’t it? Makes me feel a little less left out.”

“I’m sure it tastes better than anything else you might find at that bar,” you assured him.

“I’m in full agreement,” Aryu said. “In fact, I might get the same for myself. Would you like anything, Y/N?”

“You can pick,” you said. “I trust your judgement better than my own in regards to these things.”

“I’ll do my best to procure a drink worthy of you,” he said, his hair swishing behind him as he strolled in the direction Hyoma had just come from.

“What were you guys talking about?” Hyoma said once it was just the three of you.

“Nothing important. Just how excited we are to see each other again,” Koyuki said.

“And how you’re becoming quite the star recently,” you said.

“Oh,” he said, blushing and sinking in his seat a bit. “Thank you.”

“Sure, it’s only the truth,” you said.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a rambunctious voice said, and then Karasu was plopping in the seat beside Hyoma, socking him in the arm. “What’s got little Chigiri all embarrassed?”

“Nothing, you noisy excuse for a crow,” Hyoma said, batting Karasu away half-heartedly.

“Sorry we’re late,” your best friend, sitting beside you and unfolding her napkin. “Someone was more concerned with how their hair looked than timeliness and other such factors.”

“By someone, do you mean yourself?” Karasu challenged before making his voice comically high-pitched to mock her. “Oh, Tabito, my purse doesn’t match my shoes! Oh, Tabito, I need to wear a bracelet with this or my arm will be too bare! Oh, Tabito—”

“Shut up,” she said. “Like I was saying, it was entirely his fault.”

“Uh-huh,” Karasu said. “Whatever, we made it, so in the end it’s irrelevant who was at fault. Even if it was obviously you.”

“Aryu and I just got here a few minutes ago, so you’re not really that late. Doesn’t seem like you’re the last ones in, either, so don’t worry about it,” you said.

“Do either of you know who else is at our table?” Koyuki said. To your surprise, Karasu nodded; though, then again, he was the type who would be aware of something like that.

“It’s Aiku and his girlfriend-of-the-month,” he said.

“Who is it this time, another singer?” Hyoma said, rolling his eyes. Aiku was infamous for being a player with a different partner for every event he attended, and you supposed this one was no different.

“Apparently, she’s a lingerie model from Sweden,” Karasu said. “He told me they met while he was visiting his dad’s side of the family.”

“Damn,” Hyoma said. “Only Aiku.”

“Only Aiku,” Karasu echoed, shaking his head. Aiku’s habits were the butts of many a joke amongst the Blue Lock boys, or so you were told, and you couldn’t blame them — everything about him teetered on the verge of insanity, just shy of utterly unbelievable, which was especially comedic given how grounded and down-to-earth he seemed to be at first glance.

“Did you hear Yukimiya proposed to his girlfriend?” Hyoma said, motioning towards where Yukimiya and his girlfriend were sitting a table with Nagi, Reo, a few others you didn’t recognize, and — you swallowed when you inadvertently made eye contact with Otoya, who was sitting on Reo’s left and spinning a spoon between his fingers, turning away before he could do something childish like stick his tongue out at you.

“Really?” Koyuki said. “Aren’t they a bit young for it?”

“He mentioned that he asked!” your best friend said. She had become friends with Yukimiya and his girlfriend somewhat by accident and shortly before she began dating Karasu, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was already informed about the news. “They’ve known each other since elementary school and have been dating since, like, junior high, so it’s not too strange.”

“He’s the kind of person who thinks through things before doing them, so it definitely wasn’t some half-baked, average decision,” Karasu said with a decisive nod that signaled the topic wasn’t up for discussion anymore.

“I’ll have to be sure to congratulate them at some point,” you said. The when Otoya’s not around was left unsaid, but given who was sitting at the table with you, you were pretty sure everyone — excepting maybe Hyoma — heard it.

“I’ll come with you when you do,” your best friend said. “I haven’t had the chance to say anything to them in person yet.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. “I wonder what’s taking Aryu so long…”

“Is he getting drinks for the two of you?” Karasu said. You nodded. “I was just about to head over there myself, so I can check on him, if you want.”

“Yes, please,” you said.

“Ooh, get something for me,” your best friend said. Karasu tapped her on the head as he got up; you shifted in your seat, tracing the patterns in the carpet with your eyes so that you weren’t faced with his gentleness to her any longer.

“Already planning on it, don’t worry,” he said. “Tell Aiku he’s a dick when he gets here. If he does.”

Not even thirty seconds had passed by when, like a storm, Aiku and his Swedish-lingerie-model girlfriend arrived, pausing in the doorway to luxuriate in the spotlight for a second before ambling over to your table. They were the kind of couple that drew everyone’s attention to them, tall and willowy and beautiful in a manner that suited one another exactly, handsomely and painstakingly crafted to be the center of attention.

“Hello, everybody,” Aiku said magnanimously. You exchanged looks with Koyuki, who looked just as amused as you felt.

“Hello, Aiku,” your best friend said. “My boyfriend thinks you’re a dick.”

“Takes one to know one,” Aiku said, unperturbed. “Where’s he off to?”

“Him and Aryu are at the bar, where I am sure you will soon be joining them,” she said. Aiku grinned at her, the kind of white, toothy grin that was most commonly seen in photoshopped magazine commercials.

“Am I that easily read? Yeah, I’ll head over there now. Want anything, babe?” he said.

“Just water,” his girlfriend said.

“As you wish,” he said, drawing a tiny snort out of Hyoma, who immediately disguised it with a cough, his hand covering his mouth as Aiku’s girlfriend gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” Hyoma said. “I cough when it rains. I’m allergic.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “It must be difficult.”

Hyoma coughed again, clearing his throat in what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Very.”

“Do you think they’ll have vegan food here?” she continued. 

“Uh,” Hyoma gave you a panicked look for some reason, mouthing ‘help’, but you could only shrug, both because you had no idea what was on the menu and because you, too, had no idea why she was focusing her attention entirely on him. “Maybe?”

“Back in Sweden, we…”

Leaning around Koyuki, she continued to talk to the bewildered Hyoma, leaving Koyuki to duck closer to the table and involve herself in conversation with you and your best friend. Eventually, the Chigiri siblings swapped seats so that Hyoma could be beside Aiku’s girlfriend-of-the-month, leaving Koyuki next to Karasu’s empty seat, making your discussion about who you thought would get engaged next much more comfortable.

“I think it’s going to be Reo,” your best friend said.

“Reo? Is he with someone, then?” you said. She clicked her tongue.

“Not that we know of, but listen, he’s totally the type to use his family’s insane connections to hide any potential relationships from the media,” she said. “For all we know, he’s already married.”

“That’s actually very true,” you said.

“I know for a fact that it won’t be Hyoma,” Koyuki said.

“Why not?” you said, gesturing towards where Hyoma was listening raptly to Aiku’s girlfriend as she described the process of getting ready for a runway show. “He seems popular and friendly, plus he’s very kind.”

“He’s never been in a relationship before, and given his track record, I don’t see him getting in one anytime soon. He’s simply uninterested,” she said. “He’ll get there eventually, but he definitely won’t be the next up.”

“What about you? Who do you think?” your best friend said.

“Karasu,” you said promptly.

“But — hey!” she said. “No way!”

“He’s the only one who’s actually dating someone publicly and isn’t Aiku,” you said. “I’m saying this as much by process of elimination as anything. Besides, I’ve been planning your wedding for years now, so you better be next.”

“She has a point,” Koyuki said. “Er, about the process of elimination part.”

“You guys are crazy,” your best friend said, though the smile threatening to cross her face revealed what she really thought of the prospect.

The boys returned with your drinks in hand a little later. Aryu set a glass filled with red wine down in front of you, and you took it, idly swishing it before taking a sip. You thought that you must seem quite refined with such a beverage, so although you wouldn’t have ordered it for yourself, you drank it without complaint, despite the ensuing bitterness coating your tongue.

Glass in hand, you leaned back in your seat, observing the proceedings as if through a window. Everyone else was so caught up in their own little words that they did not notice your silence — your best friend was talking quietly to Karasu, while Aryu and Aiku reminisced over their days as rookie players of the Italian club they had started their professional careers at. Koyuki was giggling as she texted somebody on her phone, and Aiku’s girlfriend was telling Hyoma how many rollers she required for a perfect blowout; simply put, they were all happy. Every one of them belonged, to someone else if not themselves, and even though you had declared to yourself that it didn’t matter to you anymore, that never again would you preoccupy yourself with something as foolish as dating, you could not help a lump from forming in the back of your throat, because it was a lie. It had always been a lie.

“I’m heading to the bathroom,” you said, your voice catching. Your best friend furrowed her brow at you.

“Do you want me to come?” she said.

“No, it’s okay,” you said. “Please. I’ll be right back.”

You fled without another word, stumbling over your feet in your haste, wine sloshing in the glass you still clutched in your fist as you walked with as much composure as you could until you were out of sight of the hall, whereupon your steps grew minced and desperate as you raced towards the door. The hotel’s heating was suddenly suffocating, and you were dimly aware of a wet stain spreading across your chest where the contents of your cup had spilled in your haste.

Why were you reacting like this? Why did you care so suddenly? Why did it matter? And why were you on the verge of crying? You had already had a chance, and you had squandered it. You could’ve been at Barou’s table, sitting alongside him and Hiori and Niko, your head resting against his shoulder when you were tired, his coat cascading over your back when you were cold. It was your own fault, and something you had come to terms with long ago, so why was it hitting you like this, all at once?

As Aryu had predicted, it was pouring rain outside, but you brushed the receptionist’s concerns aside, the hotel door slamming behind you as you made a beeline for a bench by one of the many azalea bushes blooming in front of the grand building. It was such a sad and lonely thing, that bench, the grey stone drenched, the lamp above it flickering unsteadily, and for some reason, that was enough for you to burst into tears, downing the rest of the wine you didn’t even like and then, in a fit of inspiration, throwing the glass onto the ground.

The base of it shattered first, followed by the stem and then the body, which burst into a million pieces like stars on the concrete, stained pinkish from your drink and dagger-sharp at the edges. Burying your face in your newly empty hands, you didn’t even try to wipe your tears away — they’d be replaced by fresh ones, as well as the rain, soon enough, so there was no point to it. There wasn’t much of a point to anything.

You shouldn’t have come. You should’ve been firmer with your best friend, should’ve told her you had no interest in coming to this stupid event with stupid Blue Lock, where everyone else had a place but you didn’t, where you would always be an outsider who stuck out like a sapling in snow, where you would always be a second consideration, left to cry in the rain alone before having to return like nothing had ever happened.

“Hey.” Someone sat at the opposite side of the bench with a huff. “You look like serious shit, Y/N.”

“Otoya,” you said, for you would know his voice anywhere, and it was so unexpected that it temporarily broke you out of your spiral. “Thanks a bunch.”

“The weather’s awful,” he said. “What’re you doing out here?”

“I could say the same to you,” you said, the heels of your palms digging into your eye sockets.

“Trust me, it’s not like I want to be,” he said.

“Then go inside,” you said, biting on your lower lip so hard blood swelled in your mouth, salty and acrid. “And stay away from me. For good this time, preferably.”

“I would if I thought it would do anything,” he admitted. “But it’s kind of pointless, right? You’ll still manifest out of thin air somehow, and you’ll probably blame me for something I didn’t even do while you’re at it.”

“Didn’t do? Don’t make me laugh,” you said. 

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I messed up a movie for you once. Two years ago. Capital crime.”

“It’s not just the movie,” you said. “It’s everything.”

“Everything?” he said.

“It’s you!” you said, dropping your hands into your lap and tilting your head towards the sky. The stars were hidden behind the blanket of grey clouds, but if you squinted hard enough, you could still see the moon, as full and benevolent as a pearl. “It’s you. Everything about you, I can’t stand it. You don’t care about anyone or anything, you just barge into people’s lives and ruin them. You make rocks look smart, and you have horrible taste in ties; you have the worst hair I’ve ever seen on a man — which is saying something, considering I’ve met Karasu — and you’re as condescending as anything, which is also saying something, because what do you have to be condescending about?”

Otoya was quiet, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his eyes burning holes through you. You rubbed the back of your hand against your face in a futile attempt to pretend like nothing mattered, like this was a routine situation, like he hadn’t found you crying on a solitary bench when you should’ve been with everyone else.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be Barou’s girlfriend,” you continued, your voice weak, pathetic. “Or Reo’s. Or someone else’s entirely. I’d be inside of that party, sitting with the others, and I’d matter to someone. Maybe I don’t have to be the center of attention all of the time, maybe I’m not nearly that pretty or interesting, but at least — at least one person, I would’ve had at least one person…” 

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“You’re always there,” you said. “On the field. At the coffee shop. By the bathrooms. Near the entrance. In the back of my mind. You’re there and I hate it and I hate you and I hate that any of this even concerns me, because why should it? I know who I am. I know the truth.”

“Which is?” he said.

“I can try as hard as I like, but I’ll never be my best friend,” you said. “She’s the one everybody loves. She’s the one with the perfect boyfriend and the perfect life; if this were a television show, she’d be the favorite, the main lead, and I wouldn’t be anything more than the annoying side character who only gets fans out of pity and marries some random, nameless man that the writers make up so nobody wonders what happens to me by the end. I’m not supposed to be important. I keep trying, but I’m not, and every time I think it’s okay, I’m reminded of it and it hurts all over again.”

There was a rustling of fabric, and for a second you thought he had left, but then he was pressing something cold and smooth into your hands — a glass.

“It’s sparkling apple cider,” he said. “You should drink it.”

“Why’d you get this?” you said. “Don’t I seem like someone who would drink red wine?”

“Not really,” he said. “Are you?”

“No,” you said. “I wish I was, but I’m not.”

“It’s not the only drink in the world, so it’s not like you have to like it,” he said. “The others are good, too. I like this one the most, even if other people might not agree.”

The beverage was sweet in your mouth, and before you knew it, you had drained the entire thing, washing away the thickness of the wine and the salt of your tears in one fell swoop. 

“Why are you out here, anyways?” you said.

“I saw you leave and pointed it out to Reo, who told me I should check on you,” he said.

“Why you?” you said.

“Beats me,” he said. 

“You still did it, though,” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t ask why. That beats me, too.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you said. “It’s unimportant.”

The cars on the road in front of you rushed by without a care, the puddles on the asphalt streaked through with the colors of the passing vehicles, reflecting the white headlights and the shimmering streaks of oil lingering on their surfaces. 

Neither of you said anything for a while, only watching the traffic, which grew thinner and thinner as the minutes marched on. Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t grating; you thought you would’ve hated it, thought it would’ve been as awkward as it had been on that date with Barou, but it was nice. You didn’t mind it as much when it was him. You didn’t mind it at all, shockingly.

“Otoya,” you said. You couldn’t say how long it had been — both of you were utterly drenched, all of the way to the bone, but he hadn’t complained yet, nor had he made any moves to get up. You probably looked like a wreck, a rat drowned in a water-trough, and in the hotel there were toasts and wine and music and warmth, beautiful girls with beautiful dresses that’d do anything to talk with him for even a second, but still, without any fuss, he stayed with you.

“Hm?” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He took the empty glass from your hand, setting it carefully on the ground by his feet, and then he replaced it with something warm — his own hand, fingers lacing through your own, the pulse in his wrist beating against yours in tandem. You stiffened, taken aback, but no words came to your mind, no quick insult or sharp retort. You couldn’t muster anything, and neither could you pull away, so you stayed still, as still as possible, tucked against the armrest on your side of the bench, his palm pressed to yours the only proof that you weren’t alone anymore.

“People will come looking for you soon,” he said.

“Maybe not me, but you, yes,” you said.

“You’re not unimportant,” he said. “There’s people that care about you, too.”

“Do you?” you said, your face heating at the uncharacteristic brashness.

“Do I what?” he said. You exhaled.

“Never mind,” you said. You shouldn’t have expected anything from him. Only a few hours previously, you had been convinced he was the bane of your existence and you were his, so why should his feelings on the matter have changed? Why had yours?

“Come on,” he said. Before you knew what was happening, you were on your feet, and Otoya was looking at you so earnestly that your heart raced and your stomach dropped. “Let’s leave. This party is boring, anyways.”

“Leave? Where will we go, though?” you said. He considered it for a moment, and then, inexplicably, he grinned. You hadn’t seen him smile before, but it was sweet, the type of smile that lit up his entire face in a rare way, the type of smile that made you wonder why you had ever despised him in the first place.

“Well,” he said. “There’s a movie we could watch.”

Your eyes widened, and then you laughed. You laughed and laughed, because you couldn’t believe he had said that, and neither could you believe that you were really about to run away from the gala with him.

“You better not mess it up for me this time,” you said.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said, and when he squeezed your hand, you thought that maybe there was one person in the world, just one, who paid attention to you. Who thought you were important. Who saw you for who you were. “But you of all people should know I can’t promise that I won’t.”

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Are you afraid of me?

Stalker Billie Eilish x reader

Warnings: stalking, slight manipulation, obsession, not much else tbh

Billie has been watching you for a while now. She knows your schedule, where you live, and even where you walk every night. She needs to be a part of your life. She has a master plan and tonight is step one.

The cool air gently caresses your face as you wander through the city’s misty late-night quiet. It’s a habit of yours to go for long walks when you need to clear your head. But tonight, there’s a strange tension in the air. It’s just you and the fog, yet you keep glancing over your shoulder. Is someone’s watching?

You keep walking. You are prone to imagining things, that must be it. But then you hear something. Just the faintest echo of footsteps, soft but definitely in time with yours. Your stomach clenches, and you stop, pretending to check your phone as you look around. No one. Just the empty street under flickering neon lights.

You’re scared and about to turn back, maybe head home and forget the whole thing, when a voice slips into the quiet.

“Nice night, isn’t it?”

You jump, whirling around. There’s a girl standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of a baggy black hoodie, the hood pulled low. Her face is partially in shadow, but you can see the glint of her eyes and a faint hint of green in her hair. She’s smiling, but there’s something strange about the way she’s looking at you, her gaze steady, like she’s been waiting.

She watches your reaction closely, hiding her own satisfaction. It’s about time you noticed, Billie thinks, her heart picking up as she steps forward. For weeks now, she’s kept her distance, studying the way you move, your daily routine. She knows you disappear into these streets late at night. She’s spent hours watching you from these same alleys, trailing you from blocks away, always careful, always keeping just out of sight. But tonight, she is going to make her move. It is all a part of her carefully crafted plan, she is going to make you hers, and from the way your eyes widen, it’s working.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, keeping her voice calm and quiet. Casual. Friendly. She’s practiced this. Billie shrugs, like it’s nothing, even though her pulse is thudding. She’s right here, finally close enough to talk to you, close enough to look into your eyes and see if you really are who she thinks you are. She’s imagined this moment too many times to count.

“I just… didn’t expect anyone else to be out here,” you say, your voice uncertain but trying to sound normal.

She smiles a little wider. “Me neither.” She lies. She knew you would be here. There’s a spark in her eyes, a look you don’t quite understand. “But I’ve seen you around. You like the quiet, don’t you?”

You blink, surprised. “How’d you know that?”

Billie shrugs, leaning against the streetlight, casual but purposeful. Careful, she thinks, don’t give away too much. “It’s just a vibe you give off.” She keeps her gaze steady on you, watching you closely, reading every flicker of confusion and curiosity on your face. There it is, she thinks, that look she’s been waiting to see. You’re intrigued.

“Do we… know each other?” you ask, trying to place her

Not yet, Billie thinks, her stomach twisting in a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “Maybe,” she says with a shrug, keeping her tone light. “But I feel like I know you.”

She’s been watching long enough to notice the little things—how you pause on certain street corners, the music you listen to, how you look around like you’re searching for something, or someone, too. It’s those details that made her stay, that made her start following you night after night. She felt the connection the moment she saw you, something raw and unexplainable. She wants to tell you all this, but not yet. Go slow, she tells herself. Make them want to know more.

“How do you mean?” you ask, frowning slightly, but not backing away.

She bites back a smile. “Hard to explain,” she says softly. “It’s like… I don’t know. Like I can see something in you.” She pauses, then lets a hint of vulnerability show, knowing it’ll pull you in. “And maybe you’d see something in me, too.”

You hesitate, clearly thrown off, but she can see you’re curious, maybe even flattered. Good, she thinks, pleased. You’re right where she wants you. You’re not running away.

She’s spent nights picturing this, waiting for the moment when she could be close enough to talk to you without the risk of being caught, of scaring you off. But she couldn’t just let you keep wandering off into the night, disappearing like a dream every time she got too close. She wants to be more than a shadow to you. She wants in.

“Are you scared of me?” she asks, her voice low, almost daring.

There’s a brief silence, and she almost worries she’s gone too far too fast. But then you meet her gaze, holding it steadily. “No,” you say softly. “I’m not scared.”

She lets herself grin, a dark thrill rushing through her. She likes the courage in your voice, the steadiness in your gaze. You’re exactly what I hoped for, she thinks. “Good,” she murmurs, stepping back just a bit, enough to make you want her to come closer again. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to let you go.”

She takes a step back, hands back in her pockets, still watching you with that quiet intensity. “I’ll see you again,” she says, barely above a whisper, but there’s a promise in her tone. Soon, she thinks, a smirk pulling at her lips. She knows where you’ll be, knows you’ll be back on these streets again. You can’t help it. And now, she’s made sure you’ll be looking for her, too.

Before you can respond, she slips back into the shadows, but she knows the memory of her will linger. She walks away, feeling the thrill of success prickling up her spine. This is only the beginning. She’s patient. She knows the game now. She’ll make herself part of your life, piece by piece, and she won’t stop until you’re hers.

[zegrasdrysdale]

im having a feeling that you don’t write much for this player (because he’s so underrated)

but im desperate for luca fantilli smut

like chain swinging, bruise inducing, dirty, “rough” sex.

maybe it’s ovulation- maybe it’s just me ?

idc i just need him to call me his, claim the fuck out of me 🤝

[ pent up ] l. fantilli

pairing : Luca Fantilli x fem!reader

summary : after a rough loss, Luca needs to let out some steam

warning(s) : smut ! kinda rough sex, p in v protected sex, oral (m receiving), possessiveness, pet names during sex

author’s note : i also need him to claim the fuck out of me tbh. anon you were so real for that

༺═──────────────═༻

She sat in her dorm room on campus with her laptop open and homework in front of her as she watched the Michigan boys lose their third game in a row. The horn sounded and she watched all of them basically sulk off the ice. Captain Jacob Truscott sat on the bench for an extra minute as his teammates make their way into the locker room.

It's not like they didn't play a good game tonight. They played well defensively without taking too many penalties, but puck luck was not in their favor as they lost 3 to 1 to Penn State. Several shots rung off the post and she wishes every single time that posts weren't a thing.

(Y/N) pretty sure she almost broke her desk chair every time a puck hit the post. She's surprised that she actually didn't end up breaking her chair. She did break multiple pencils in frustration.

A text comes through about forty minutes after the game ends.

luca ♡ - 10:38 pm can i come to your dorm when i drop my stuff off ? wanna see you

She doesn't say no. She can never say no to Luca Fantilli. He has this thing about him that makes it impossible for her to say no to her boyfriend.

It’s nights like tonight where she’s glad she lives in an on-campus suite with her best friend from home. Luca can come and go as he pleases without disturbing her friend since it’s just the two of them in an apartment-like suite. If he’s not at the hockey house then he’s here with his girlfriend.

She sends her friend a text to let her know that Luca is coming over. Her friend sends her back a ‘🚫👶🏼’ in reply.

Less than a half hour later, there’s a knock on the door of the suite. (Y/N) goes and answers it since she knows it’s Luca. Plus, her room is closest to the door. She’s always answering it.

When she swings the door open, a worn out Luca stands on the other side. He’s in his game day suit and Michigan beanie. He looks exhausted, yet he looks like he needs to let out some frustration at the same time.

“Hi, my love,” she softly says. “I watched the game. You guys should’ve had that.”

Luca just nods and walks past her into her bedroom.

He is definitely not happy with how that game went. He should’ve had a hat trick at least with his half a dozen shots on goal. Either the Penn State goalie had him beat or the post did.

It wasn’t an easy night for any of them. Luca takes loses like this personally.

She shuts the door and follows him into her room. She kicks the door shut behind her and Luca throws his beanie at the wall in frustration.

“It’s games like this where I wish I didn’t play this sport,” he confesses. “Half the time it’s fucking puck luck and the other half of the time it’s skill. It truly pisses me off sometimes. It’s so frustrating.”

Immediately, she’s walking up to him and sitting him on her bed. He looks up at her as she says, “Hockey is just a stupid sport. You get frustrated because you love it. You hate to love it. I understand.”

Luca plays with the hem of her Michigan hockey hoodie. “It just sucks sometimes,” he sighs. “I feel like the worst teammate when I can’t score a goal or set someone up.”

“I know,” she replies as she runs her fingers through his hair. Luca in turn slides his arms up her hoodie and pulls her in close to him so his face his buried in her stomach “Is there anything I can do to help you get out some of that frustration you’re feeling?”

He mumbles an “I don’t know” into her hoodie. It’s a lie though. She knows what he wants. She always knows what he wants after a rough game.

She leans down and presses soft kisses to the top of his head. “Let me take care of you then you can do whatever you want,” she tells him.

Before she knows it, she’s sinking down to her knees in front of him. She lands so hard on the joint that she is afraid she might’ve bruised her knees even though the floors are carpeted.

Oh well. Pain always comes before pleasure anyway.

Luca watches as she unbuckles the belt he’s wearing. She tosses it to the floor with a smile on her face. When he finally realizes what she’s doing, he kicks off his shoes and lifts his butt off the mattress so (Y/N) can get his pants off. The suit pants and boxers come off at the same time because she’s become a pro at undressing her boyfriend.

With a smile and a kiss to his thigh right above his knee, (Y/N) takes Luca’s semi in her hand. He watches her with big eyes as she slowly begins to move her hand to pump him. Soft noises pass Luca’s pretty lips as she slowly pulls him closer to an orgasm.

This usually helps Luca relax. It also sometimes ends with her being unable to walk the next day but it’s a Friday night. There are no classes tomorrow. She doesn’t even have to get out of bed if she doesn’t want to.

She glances up at Luca, whose eyes are watching her every move. She bites her bottom lip for a second before she takes him in her mouth.

Her tongue swirls around the reddening tip of his dick for a second before she put as much of him as she can into her mouth. She sucks for a second before she blows him.

“Fuck,” Luca gasps as she begins to move her head up and down. “So pretty with my dick in your mouth.” She smirks around him and takes him even further. Her hand makes up for what she can’t fit.

Luca’s fingers curl in her hair while she moves her head. One of her hands is on the base of his dick while the other snakes into her shorts so she can get pressure on her core.

Soft whines pass her lips as she uses her own fingers to work herself close to an orgasm. It’s only temporary. Her boyfriend’s fingers will replace hers shortly. She knows Luca can only last so long before he’s pinning her to the mattress.

He pulls her hair back into a makeshift ponytail in his fist. She hums at the feeling as Luca moves her at a pace he likes. He takes his time with her.

One of her fingers slides into her pussy and she whines. A part of her wishes that Luca would just get his hands on her already.

It’s like he can read her mind though because it’s not long after that when he finally speaks up.

“You look so beautiful on your knees for me, baby,” Luca pants. “Need to be inside you though.”

(Y/N) pulls back and licks away a drop of saliva that has started to roll down her chin. “Whatever you want, Luca,” she tells him. “If you need to then use me to let out some of that pent up frustration.”

His bright eyes darken and he pulls her to her feet almost immediately after the last word leaves her lips. He pushes the hoodie off of her body to reveal that she has nothing on under the hoodie except for a pair of shorts and pulls her down onto the mattress. He hovers over her and she can’t help but smile up at him.

Luca leans down and captures her lips in a bruising kiss. She hums and bucks her hips up so she can get some pressure, whatever pressure she can find on her core. He pins her hips down to the mattress for a second before a hand finds its way into her Lululemon shorts and panties.

A groan passes her lips when his fingers run through her folds. “Luca,” she mumbles. “Not tonight. Just fuck me.”

He detaches his lips from hers after a second and finds her neck. He sucks and nips at the skin on her neck right under her ear. She sighs and kisses the swell of his ear. A bright mark will be visible right where he’s nipping at and she truly does not care.

Luca could cover her entire body with marks and she’d happily show them off. She’s never been shy to admit that she is Luca’s girlfriend. Especially when other girls try to talk to him after games or on campus when going to classes.

“Already so wet for me, baby,” Luca mumbles. “This just from sucking me off?”

She nods and hums. “All for you,” she sighs. “I am yours.”

He backs away from her neck and gets on his knees between her legs. She watches as he pulls off his suit jacket and unbutton his shirt. Her eyes land on the gold chain around his neck with the number 63 resting between his collarbones. The chain that she got him last year for his birthday.

She knew he wore it, but she has never seen it on after a game. It’s rare for Luca to wear this specific chain during a game since it was a gift from her for his 21st birthday.

Since it’s on now, she knows it was the chain he wore for the game. It turns her on even more if it’s even possible.

Luca notices that she’s looking and smiles. “Wanted to sport my girl during the game tonight,” he tells her. “Just to have you close.”

His words shoot straight to her core and she pulls him down into a hot kiss. Lips are bitten, tongues are shoved into each other’s mouths. The cool 63 rests against her neck right under her chin. Despite her skin being hot, she shivers.

He peels off her shorts and panties, throwing them to the floor with the rest of their clothes. Luca breaks the kiss to reach into her bedside table to grab a condom. She bites a mark into his chest while he rips open the tiny package with his teeth and slides its content onto himself.

“Ready for me?” he questions as he comes back to hover over her. He lines himself up with her but waits until she gives him an answer. She sucks in her bottom lip and nods. “Need to hear you say it, pretty girl.”

“Fuck me before I do it myself,” is her response. Luca can’t help but laugh. She grows slightly annoyed at the fact that he isn’t blowing her back out and bucks her hips so he slides k to her.

The laughing stops and (Y/N) lets out a soft groan at the familiar stretch of Luca’s dick inside of her. She stares up at Luca and watches the 63 swings lightly in her face.

Luca pushes himself completely into her and lets her adjust to his size. He’s slightly above average, but he’s also kind of thick. It’s a lot to take sometimes and it’s why she can’t walk the next day if it’s too rough.

Right now, she’s hoping he channels all his frustration into fucking her because it’s been a little bit since they have been able to have a moment like this.

“Move, Luca,” she breathes out after a minute. “I’ve been ready for you to move for like ev- oh!”

He pulls nearly out of her before he slams into her. She lets out a loud groan and Luca covers her mouth. “Let’s not wake up your friend, yeah?” he says. “Last thing we need is for her to walk in here and see you begging me to fuck you.”

She nods and Luca uncovers her mouth. He very slowly but very deeply moves into her. Her mouth falls open and she lets her legs fall apart for him. The swinging chain moves the quicker he moves.

In a spur of the moment decision, (Y/N) leans up and softly bites the chain. Luca smiles and shakes his head before he picks up the pace.

The bed begins to creak beneath them but that doesn’t stop them. Luca’s mouth is on one of her breasts while his hand rests on the other one. She gasps when she feels him bite a mark into the skin.

“Mine,” he mumbles. “All mine.”

“All yours,” she confirms. “All yours to do whatever you want- fuck!”

Luca slams into her at the same time he reaches down between them to get his fingers on her clit. She cries out in pleasure before Luca pulls out of her. She whines at the loss of contact.

Then he turns her onto her belly and pulls her hips up to meet his. She sighs happily when he fills her up again. “Whatever I want,” he repeats into her ear. “On your knees, pretty girl. Wanna see how you look while I fuck you on your knees.”

With his help, (Y/N) rises to her knees with him still in her. He wraps an arm around her waist and lightly wraps a hand around her throat. He doesn’t put any pressure but fucks up into her. Her head falls onto his shoulder. Luca kisses her cheek.

“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Letting me do what I want with you.”

She whines in agreement as his fingers find her clit. She sighs, “Luca. Please.”

“Please what, baby,” he asks against her ear.

A sudden knot forms in the pit of her stomach. Her legs begin to shake. “Wanna come,” she pants.

Luca kisses the swell of her ear and cups one of her breasts with his free hand. “Go ahead and come,” he tells her. “I’m not that far behind you.”

It’s not long after that when she’s clenching around his dick. She cries out his name as she comes. All she wants to do is fall onto her stomach but Luca is holding her up.

She sees stars as her vision goes white. She’s pretty sure she has never come this hard in her life, but that’s the affect Luca has on her. She also realizes that she doesn’t mind being fucked on her knees. That’s a conclusion she comes to while out of it.

When she comes down from her high, she’s sprawled out on her belly. Luca is wiping her leg down with a warm rag and is leaving soft kisses on her back. “Sorry if that was too much,” he mumbles. “I just needed to let out some frustration.”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I liked it. It wasn’t bad. Got some new marks to show off.”

Luca laughs and throws the cloth somewhere on the floor before he covers them up with the blankets on her bed. She cuddles up against her boyfriend and lays her cheek on his chest.

“You’re okay though?” she questions as she looks up at him. “I know you were upset about the loss so I just want to double check to make sure you’re okay.”

He nods and brushes her hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he tells her. “Frustration and anger come with the sport. The last thing I want to do is take either out on you.”

“The only time you’re ever allowed to take frustration out on me is when you’re fucking me,” she warns him. “Lay a hand on me and your ass is on the curb.”

Luca smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dancerbailey3 @goldihocksrocks @love4lando

[wosoragebaiter69]

tears streaming down your face

barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader

request: here

A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.

also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)

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

As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.

Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.

“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.

“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.

“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.

“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”

“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”

As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.

Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.

“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.

When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.

You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.

You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.

You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.

“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.

“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.

“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”

“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.

“Would you come to Germany?”

“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.

“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.

You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.

- - - - -

You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.

Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.

She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.

She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.

More like a certain Wolfsburg player.

Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.

Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.

- - - - -

It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.

Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.

“We’re taking her, bye!”

You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.

“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.

“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.

“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.

“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”

“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.

“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.

“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.

“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.

“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”

She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.

- - - - -

You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.

As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.

By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.

Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.

—————————————————————————

i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team

also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey babes, love your work so much🩷

Could you possibly write some body worship and appreciation on daryl (including giving him head)? Like really sweet and caring but also hot as fuck? Lord knows he dederves/needs to hear it😩 Also another idea that popped into my head, could be in this or another fic, but him pulling your hair while fucking you from the behind, not like super rough or anything just kinda affectionate.

Pardon my rambling and thank you for always feeding my inner whore!💖

IT'S JUST A BODY OF YEARS

"That I leave all alone"

THE FUNTIME PARTS: Daryl x Fem!Reader, big boy is insecure, body worship, blowjobs, tbh daryl is a bit subby in this, face-fucking, gentle sex with some gentle hair pulling, creampies and a breeding kink of course

this request is another really old one that I only just recently got an idea for because for some reason I've been absolutely feining to just suck daryls dick. like I want his man peenar in my mouth like candy.

i feel like he gets overly insecure pretty often, some of it dates back to his childhood because I feel like there were definitely times where daryls father shamed him for eating or being "too big" at a young age, so there's always been some self-hatred that he just needs to have kissed and sucked away

I did take a little mental health break and i feel a bit better, I ended up having to go through my drafts and inbox to clear out mainly the super old requests that I just had no interest in, I really really wanna open my reqs back up for new and fresh ideas but first I have to finish the ones I already have

if this flops im deleting my blog and tumblr

Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t need to be in order for you to understand him.

His body spoke for him, from shy hands resting on your hips to soft kisses trailing up your neck, Daryl never needed to voice how he felt about you, and he knew how you felt about him, but sometimes he couldn’t figure out why.

Even now, as he stands in front of the mirror with his shirt off nitpicking at each imperfection littering his skin, he still can’t figure out why.

He was nothing but a low-class hotheaded redneck from deep in the south. You were so far out of his league that it was almost unbelievable that you'd ever want someone like him. Someone as breathtakingly gorgeous and downright stunning as you stuck with someone as dirty and disgusting as him.

The skin of his body was so rough and utterly ruined, cringing at the feeling of raised scars on his chest under the tips of his blistered fingers. How could you ever feel an attraction to someone like him?

He folded his arms across his chest, growling softly as he frustratedly blinked back angry tears as he tore his eyes away from the mirror, straight up offended by the state of his own body.

You approached him from where you were watching sadly in the doorway, sliding gentle hands around his waist and feeling him jerk away from the sudden contact in his vulnerable state. He never wanted you to see him cry. Hell, at this point he didn't want you to see him at all.

“Dun' look at me” He mumbled, arms tightening around himself as a wave of self-hate washed over him once more, your touch burning against his skin.

“But I love looking at you,” You whispered softly, hands trailing up his sides and coming to a rest on one of his biceps. “I love all of you”

Daryl shook his head, hiding his face behind his hair as hot tears welled up in his eyes again. “How? Why?” He had so many questions, but none of them seemed mattered when your hands ran up his arms and gently tried to pry them from his chest.

He balled up his fists by his sides, but you stepped in front of him and brought them into your own. “Well to start, I love your hands. You just don’t know how good the hands of a hard-working man feels” You said as you kissed the palm of his hands, nuzzling your cheek against them in a cat-like manner. "So rough and ragged, but so gentle and kind"

Daryl flushed a little as your face made contact with his palm, almost reflexively hold your cheek as you held it against your skin, kissing a soft trail against his palm, moving to his wrist and down the length of his arm.

Daryl did take a lot of pride in his arms, and you knew that better than anyone, dragging your fingers along his forearm where you could feel the veins protruding, bringing the digits up to his large bicep. “I love your muscles, my big strong man who can carry me anywhere I want with your drool-worthy arms"

At that, a small smile cracked on his face, but it disappeared once your fingers made their way up and across his chest, easily becoming insecure all over again.

He brought a hand down to your waist to stop you, squeezing it as you moved your hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I call you 'handsome' as a nickname for a reason, 'cause it’s true” You whispered, staring into his sad eyes. You pressed your lips against his, and then to the side, down his neck. "You're gorgeous to me, Daryl"

You mumbled the words against his skin as you kissed and sucked your way down his neck, taking your time as you went across his collarbone, down to his rounded pecs, all the way across his chest, softly trailing over bumpy scars on his oh-so-nicely sculpted abs, slowly lowering yourself down onto your knees as you worshipped your absolute hunk of man.

"I love your whole body. So built and sturdy, big and thick," You said in a sultry tone as you glanced up at him, running a hand over his bulge and cupping it through the fabric, watching the way his face flushed a deep red all the way down to his chest. "Just so perfect"

Daryl's fingers tangled gently in your hair, almost nervous as you pressed open-mouth kisses against his now-straining cock, sucking on the growing wet patch where his tip was. A deep groan pulled itself from his throat, your lips moving against his flesh as you moved to pull his boxers down with your teeth, yanking them the rest of the way down until he was in nothing but his bare skin, putting all of him on display just for you.

You kissed his defined hipbones, wrapping your hands around thick thighs as you trailed along his v-line, peppering feather-light kisses around his pelvis and reaching the base of his cock, his pubic hairs bushy yet somewhat trimmed.

"M'not the same from when we first met" Daryl whispered, his blunt nails scratching at your scalp as you glanced up at him, shrugging a shoulder as you teased his side with your fingers. "It's called growing up, Dar. To be fair, you were quite a chubby cutie back then"

He scoffed slightly at that. "Ain't no different now, 'always been on the bigger side"

"And I love that. Makes you so warm and loveable" You smiled softly as you placed a wet kiss against his tip, running your tongue down the underside to the base, taking one of his balls into your mouth before licking your way back up to the tip, listening to the shaky moan that left his lips as his fingers curled in your hair.

You wasted no time sliding the head of his cock into your mouth, humming around him in your own form of satisfaction as you pulled back all the way to the tip, going back down all the way to the base, relaxing your throat as you nuzzled your nose in the plush of his pubes, happily inhaling his natural scent as he groaned above you, pressing his hips forward as his cock rested snuggly in your throat.

He held you steady by your hair, pulling himself back and almost completely out before sliding right back in, repeating the action as goosebumps exploded across his skin, breathing breathlessly as he practically started to hump your face.

Tiny moans pulled themselves from your chest, flickering your eyes upwards to watch the way Daryl tossed his head back and dropped it back down, his pupils blown wide and eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a cherry red as your throat squeezed around his cock, Daryl's husky breaths and grunts filling the air as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis right up against your nose.

You pulled your head back all the way until he slipped out your mouth with a wet pop, coated in slick saliva as you suckled and kissed along the underside of his length, fingers stroking through your hair as you flickered your gaze up to meet his, smearing spit along the skin of your cheek as you basically nuzzled up against his cock.

"Wha'cha doin' down there doll?" Daryl asked in his southern drawl, raspier now from your previous antics.

He brought his hand down to the base of your neck, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting your head upwards, watching as you innocently bat your lashes kissing against his v-line. "Just loving on my man, you're so hot"

"Real funny” Daryl said from above you, his hand cupping your face as you rubbed yourself up against him in a cat-like manner.

You smiled at him, kissing along his prominent hip bones and running your lips over any scars or imperfections. “It’s true, I’d eat you alive if you let me”

At that he scoffed, “Think m’gon pass” dropping his hand from your cheek down to your waist as you gradually kissed your way back up his body, lips fluttering against the skin of his chest as you felt the bumpy and slightly rough scars decorating his torso, running your hands up his firm pecs to wrap around his neck as your lips found their way to his face, peppering his scratchy beard in kisses.

“I love you, Daryl. I want you to see the man that I see,” You whispered against the corner of his mouth, brushing a stray hair out his face as you kissed him sorrowfully. “Not the one you see in the mirror”

His grip on you tightened, and you giggled softly when he twitched against your leg, eyes low as they flickered between you and your lips. When he kissed you. it was hungry, desperate and gentle all in one, a hand settling itself back at the base of your neck.

It wasn’t long before the air in the room started to get heated, shortly realizing that Daryl was completely nude and that you were still completely dressed, pulling away from him in order to tear your shirt off, hands helping to yank down your pants along with your underwear in a quick, fluid motion, calloused hands running themselves over your tits and squeezing, feeling their way down the rest of your bare body.

“Yer fuckin’ perfect” He mumbled out as he pulled you against him, dipping his head down in order to bite at your flesh, small groans rumbling softly through him as he groped at your waist.

You spun around him and twisted his body in order to be pinned between him and the vanity, heat pooling in your stomach as he practically towered over you. “That's what I'm trying to get you to understand”

“Oh, I understand alrigh’,” Daryl spoke in a low tone, bringing his attention back down to your neck and a soft pair of tits. “Jus’ shaped like a goddamn dream”

"Don't be so kind Sir Scupluted," You exhaled with a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around the man's neck as he pressed his skin against yours, dragging a rough hand down the pane of your back and helping himself to a handful of your round butt, scoffing out a small chuckle as your words finally processed in his mind.

"Sir Scupluted?" He repeated outloud as his breath fanned over your ear, dragging his scratchy yet soft beard along the skin of your neck.

You giggled as the fine gray hairs tickled at your flesh, Daryl's hands dipping down to grope and squeeze your hips, thumbs brushing along the skin of your inner thighs. "Have you seen yourself lately?'

Daryl grunted a little when you spun around in his grasp, forcing him to reposition his hands where they now rested on your waist, his front to your back as you smiled at him through the mirror, bringing a hand up to stroke his face as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, calloused palms feeling their way around your flesh lovingly as he pressed himself against you, almost trying to hide himself behind you.

It made your heart squeeze painfully, placing your other hand on top of his and looping your fingers together, brushing curls out his face as you turned to look at him, whispering out a small "Daryl," in order to full grasp his attention, a sad frown taking over your face as his striking eyes met yours, cupping his cheek. "You are the most gorgeous boy I've ever had the honor to lay hands on. You're the sweetest thing in this whole world and there isn't a thing I'd ever want to change about you. Not your face, not your voice, not your body, not anything."

He shook his head slightly in your grip, mumbling into the crook of your neck, "Ya dun' mean-" but getting quickly cut off by you pressing a finger to his lips, bumping your forehead against his. "I do mean it. You're absolutely perfect, Daryl, that won't ever change"

You spoke the words against his lips softly, humming and cupping his face as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you desperately and needily as the love in your words rang out in his head, feeling the way his heart was totally pounding in his chest and his cock was throbbing between your bodies, hands curling into your flesh.

Daryl's lips trailed down the underside of your jaw, hungrily kissing and sucking on your skin going down your neck, biting his way to your shoulders as a big palm came up to fondle one of your tits, the other snaking down to your hip as you pushed back against him, resting your hands on the dresser as you teasingly eyed him through the mirror, moaning slightly when he started to rut himself between your slick folds.

A wave of excitement pulsed through you when a large hand gripped your shoulder right near the base of your neck, Daryl pushing the head of his cock into the hot velvetiness of your cunt, a deep groan leaving his chest as he sank all the way in, nudging his pelvis up against you.

"Love my sweet boy, always making me feel so good" You almost whined the words as you clenched around him, nibbling on your bottom lip as the hand on your shoulder moved up to your hair, fingers combing and gathering the loose strands, holding them in a hand-held ponytail, nails scratching bluntly at your scalp.

Daryl was one of the only men in your life who could really make you finish, just the stretch of his cock was enough to get your eyes rolling, setting a rhythmical pace as he started to thrust his hips, pulling himself all the way back before easily slipping back in, burying his dick in the squishiest parts of you.

He admired your face as it twisted in pleasure, watching you through the mirror as you moaned with every thrust, eyes closed in bliss. He took the chance then to admire your whole body, from your round hips striped with stretch marks, all the way up the deep arch in your back to the tops of your shoulders, teeth marks and hickies already starting to bruise purple.

It didn't stop him from dipping his head down and taking the skin into his mouth again, wanting nothing more than to make it known to the whole world that you belonged to him, and that he so rightfully belonged to you.

You turned your head slightly to the side, Daryl meeting you the rest of the way and locking his lips with yours, swallowing all your tiny sounds while letting out soft groans himself, eagerly lifting one of your legs up to get that much deeper, the feeling that took over when hearing you choke and stutter over the new angle was indescribable, solely focused on making his pretty girl cum.

Which wouldn't take much longer at all, whimpers filling the room as you tensed up in his hold, the hand that was once in your hair now protectively wrapped across your chest, helping to support your body on one leg as your fingers curled into the wood below, mouth going slightly agape as your orgasm crashed into you, Daryl fucking you through it until you were trembling and twitching, slowing his movements to chase after his own release, rocking his hips against you gently as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, flushing more when fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape, feeling your other hand squeeze his arm. "Fill me up Dar, please"

"Give ya' lots of lil' babies huh?" He mumbled against your skin, increasing the pace of his strokes as he was so close, feeling the way his orgasm tightened his balls and made his whole body hot and tingly.

You pulled him flush to your lips once more, tongues pressing and swirling around one another, tasting every little corner of his mouth happily. "Lots of them. I wanna have all your gorgeous babies"

With that, it wasn't long before Daryl's hips started to falter, a husky moan pulling itself from his chest as his cock pulsated, pumping his load into the softness of your cunt, dropping your leg back down on the ground when he pulled out with a lewd pop, instantly peppering you in kisses.

You spun back around in his arms, tossing your own around his neck and glancing at the damage you had done to his body, bites, and marks littering him from head to toe. "I love you sweetheart, I love you so much"

Daryl easily lifted you up off the ground, carrying you over to bed where he dropped down with you clinging to him, pulling the covers over both your nude bodies and squeezing you tight, so tight that it sent waves of dopamine rushing through you, heart pounding as you snuggled against your man's chest, his fingers in your hair and gently tracing shapes on your back, lips pressed to your forehead.

"Love ya' too doll, dun' know how I got so lucky" He whispered the words, and you could feel the rumble of them vibrate up close and personal, kissing right between his pecs. "Anyone would be lucky to have a man as faultless as you, but not anyone else can have my beautiful boy"

Hey everyone look!! Im about to drop another fic and then not drop for another three months!!!!!

WHOS EXCITED FOR THAAAT🤗🔥🔥

But anyway, I had plans to actually start scheduling posts but I don’t write that fast to do that so i’m just gonna throw this into the crowd and vanish again 🙏🏾‼️

also i have something against all of you who still use my tag but WHATEVERS. 🙄 A sexy bitch like me improvises (i asked daddy krys for help)