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nerdy-novelist017 · 7 months ago

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Rooftop Conversations (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 4)

On my drive home yesterday, I heard Zach Bryan's Oklahoma Smokeshow for the first time and I realized it's so Benny x Bunny coded :) I'm curious to know what song reminds you of Benny x Bunny! As always, I so so so appreciate all your comments!

Benny x Bunny Masterlist here!

Word Count- 3.1k+ (longest one yet!)

Summary- Another night spent with Benny was sure to be an adventure filled with firsts for both of you.

******

Benny told you he knew a place to eat that had real food. You were about to tell him that Ricardo’s did have good food, but he all but pulled you into the back of his bike in an effortless move that silenced your voice with a soft gasp. The adrenaline surged through you as fresh as the first time he had given you a ride and you wondered if you would always feel this feeling riding on the back of his bike.

He drove you to the other end of town again and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face as he pulled up to a bar, parking next to a lineup of other motorcycles.

“A bar?” You asked as he helped you off the bike.

“Not exactly what Pete would have picked,” Benny replied coolly as he dismounted. “But the best food ‘round.”

“Well, I’m mad at him so who cares what he’d pick.” You grinned as you followed him to the door.

Inside, the bar was alive with music, voices and bustling bodies. Benny’s hand found the small of your back and gently guided you toward the far tables. Ignoring the rush of butterflies at the contact, you tried to focus on the familiar faces from the picnic who cheered when you entered with Benny but you blushed, looking down at your feet. A couple people clapped Benny on the back as he passed and you felt sort of like a prize and he was the winner. He found an empty table at the back, and you took a seat, facing the room.

“I’ll get you a drink,” he announced before he disappeared into the crowd, moving towards the bar. You glanced about the bar, taking in the rustic setting and colorful characters. Then suddenly, the leader of the Vandals himself was in front of you, sliding into the unoccupied chair.

“You’re Benny’s girl, right?” Johnny asked and before you could correct him – or rather ask exactly what he meant by that – he continued, “It’s nice to see you here again. The boys all really liked your cookies. Sure was sweet of you to bring that.”

You nodded, muttering a soft thanks.

“My wife was wonderin’ if you could give her your recipe – for the cookies, I mean. Maybe you could tell her at another meeting,” he said, tapping his fingers over the tabletop. He’s trying to be friendly, you realized. Trying to include you in the club somehow. Warmth filled your chest at the idea of a club filled with bikers could possibly like you enough to want you around. You wondered if they just aimed to make you the center of every inappropriate joke that would inevitably be thrown out. Regardless, you still felt flattered at the notion.

Charmed, you replied, “I–It's nothing too difficult. I’m sure she could recreate it.”

He hummed. “Well, maybe some of the guys would like to see you ‘round, too. It’s good for ‘em to be ‘round such a civilized lady as yourself. Might even be able to whip ‘em into shape.”

“I don’t know about that,” you grinned sheepishly, rubbing your shoulder. For being the leader of a motorcycle club, he wasn’t as scary as you originally thought. Intimidating, definitely, but not terrifying.

“You whipped our boy Benny into shape! And hell, if you can do that in just the few hours you spent with him, think of all the good you could do for the Vandals. You’d be like a god amongst men here.” The lines around his eyes creased as he bantered.

Heat climbed up your neck at the implication and you broke his eye contact. “I’m sure Benny acts like that with every girl he’s trying to sleep with.”

“I’ve never seen him act the way he does when you’re around. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him.” A mirthful grin overtook his ruggedly handsome face. “You’re not a siren, are ya? Leading him off to his watery demise?”

You giggled, shaking your head.

“Good, can’t have that – it’s bad for business.” He stood, using his foot to slide the chair back in. “Plus, ya know, I kind of like that kid. He’s rough around the edges and damn near feral at times, but he’s a good kid. Has a good heart. I think he’d take care of ya. That’s all he wants, I think. Someone to love ‘em and someone he can show he’s capable of lovin’ too. ”

Bemused, you fell quiet and before you could reply, Benny reappeared, two bottles in hand and he nodded at his friend, “Johnny.”

You glanced between the two as you felt the gravity of their friendship sparking. It was clear that Benny had not heard Johnny’s previous words because if he had, you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate the wingman stunt. And though you didn’t know Benny hardly at all, it was clear in the way he nodded at Johnny that this was an important relationship in his life, possibly one of the only friendships he had. Something heartening stirred in you as you pictured Benny going to him for advice, for brotherly connection.

“Benny,” Johnny returned innocuously and he shot you a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd again.

“He wasn’t teasin’ you, was he?” Benny asked lightheartedly as his gaze found you again.

“No,” you replied with a small smile, mind still sifting through the information Johnny had left you.

“Good, I’m the only one that can do that,” he stated and your eyes widened slightly at his confidence. “I didn’t figure you were the type to order a beer,” he explained as he slid the coke bottle in your direction. You wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, internally beaming at the thought of him second-guessing himself when it came to ordering you a drink.

“Not usually,” you answered as he sat down in the seat next to you, a fresh beer bottle in his hands. “You must think I’m pretty boring.”

“I think you’re anything but.” He smiled, his eyes seeming to be alight with a playful seductiveness. A dare, you realized. That’s what his mischievous look was; a dare, to be bold, to be adventurous. It stirred something in your gut chest that you didn’t know was dormant until now.

“Well, in that case . . .” You quirked your brow as you slid your coke bottle across the table stopping in front of him and grabbed his beer bottle which he had already opened and took a swig from. You brought it up to your lips, the smell making your stomach flip before you sipped a generous serving. The alcohol burned as it went down and you winced, nearly coughing.

Benny laughed. You were certainly something to keep him on his toes. He opened your soda bottle and moved it forward to cheers with you. The bottles clinked together and you smiled, making his heart flutter. Without breaking eye-contact, he lifted your coke bottle to his mouth and drank from it and nearly lost it when you mirrored him with the beer bottle. You sip was considerably shorter than his and you screwed up your face at the taste afterwards but he was still impressed by your sudden intrepidity. Just as he thought he was starting to figure you out, you’d surprise him with a new and exciting action. And Benny lived for the thrill of it. It was his turn to surprise you.

“What do you want out of life?” he asked abruptly as he set the bottle down.

Your brows rose at the severity of his question. “That’s . . . a deep question.”

“You don’t have an answer?”

“I have an answer, it’s just . . . that’s not something I expect on the first date. First date questions are more like ‘What’s your favorite color? What kind of music do you like? If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?’ Stuff like that.” You explained, voice lowering as you played with the wrapping on the beer bottle. A nervous distraction, he realized as he watched your delicate fingers.

“This is our first date?” he quipped, living for the way your eyes shot back up to his, a blush coating your nose and cheeks. “I thought it was when I gave you a ride home last night.”

“No, that was just a ride home.” You stood your ground, but gaze still fluttering back to the bottle.

“Oh,” he pretended to look down as if he were in deep thought. “Then what’s your favorite color?”

He watched as you tilted your head and fought to hold back a smile. “Yellow, like the sunrise in the early mornings. What’s yours?”

He made a mental note of that. “Red, like that red lipstick you're wearing right now.”

At that, your smile grew and he felt a swell of confidence so he continued, “What kind of music do you like?”

You giggled at the realization that he was playing into your game. “I listen to a lot of The Ronettes . . . and Elvis. Let me guess, you like The Rolling Stones?”

“Are you judgin' me by my cover, Bunny?” He grinned. “I also like Johnny Cash.”

“That makes sense. You seem like a character Johnny Cash would sing about," You said flippantly and brought the beer bottle back up to your lips for another sip and Benny was so enamored by the way your head tipped back, delicate neck exposed that he didn’t even realize you had teased him.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” he continued after a moment to compose himself as he drank from the coke bottle, wishing it was something stronger.

You seemed to ponder that for a second. “I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted to go to California.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve never been to the beach and when I was a little girl, my mom had this magazine that dedicated an entire issue to the beaches of California. It looked so fun,” you described, your eyes lighting up.

Benny imagined the sight of you in a swimsuit – one of those new bikinis he’d seen Aubrey Hepburn wear on tv – and he nearly groaned.

“What about you?” you asked innocently, drawing him back to reality.

“The beach in California,” he replied instantly.

“Why?”

“Because you’d be there.”

You blushed, a smile encompassing your beautiful face and you looked down at the glass bottle again.

Benny leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What other first date questions do you have for me, Bunny?”

******

The night was spent with smiles, stories and plenty of teasing (the latter of which was mostly Benny’s doing) and you hadn’t realized how late it was getting, too absorbed in the attention of the ocean blue eyes of the man sitting next to you. You both ate dinner (Benny insisting on the best meal was their burgers and you had to agree) and you had finished the beer but Benny replaced it with another coke afterwards. Hours passed and the rest of the patrons began to leisurely shuffle out, each calling out goodnight as they went. There were only a few left now, you realized as you glanced about the bar. Then, Benny asked if you wanted to see something.

He seized your hand in his and took you through the back of the bar, down the hallway and out the back door. The cool nighttime air was a refreshing change from the cigarette filled clubhouse. He led you around back to a closed in ladder leading to the roof. He opened the cage door and motioned for you first. You shot him an expected look.

“I’m not going up first!” You tried to act serious as you crossed your arms playfully, feeling an funny buzz from the drink.

“Why not?” he grinned, yeilding.

“Because, you just want to look up my skirt as I go.” You quirked a brow at him. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“No, you definitely aren’t stupid. And I would never. I’m a gentleman.” He held a hand over his heart as if he was hurt by your insinuation.

“Yeah, sure you are,” You said, holding your ground.

He held up his arms in an appeasing way. “Alright, I’ll go up first. Just don’t trip and fall on your way up.”

You laughed as you began making your way up the ladder after him. You climbed up the two stories, the ladder clinking beneath each heel until you made it to the top where Benny offered a hand to help you up. A gentle breeze guided you to the far end of the rooftop where a generous view of the town lights, each twinkling like the stars above. You’d never seen this perspective of your little home town and it almost looked magical.

Benny went forward and lowered himself to sit down. He beckoned you to follow and, though you were scared, you moved to mirror his seat. He held your hand as you took a seat next to him. Your legs, significantly shorter than his, dangled off the edge, bumping lightly against the brick wall. He was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your shoulders touched slightly.

“Wow, what a view, huh?” you said, voice barely above a whisper as the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.

Benny only nodded and you looked at him with a small smile, falling into a comfortable silence. Your gaze fluttered over his face, taking in the details in this dim lighting. His dilated pupils made his eyes darker and the shadow of his nose blended beautifully onto his lips. The gentle curl of his hair looked so soft and you didn’t even realize that your hand was reaching out. And maybe you tried to tell yourself that it was from the alcohol, but you knew you weren’t drunk. You touched him because you wanted to. Your fingers found the blonde tendrils and a gentle sigh escaped your lips because they were soft. His eyes were locked onto you and he remained unmoving, letting you take the reins.

“Do you actually want to marry me? Or were you just sayin’ that to get a reaction out of me?” you whispered, hand dropping back to your lap, fingers still tingling from the contact.

“Yes, I want to marry you.” His voice was a low rumble disrupting the silence of the rooftop.

You studied his face carefully, unable to look away. “How could you know that so soon?”

“You make really good cookies,” he retorted playfully and you gave him your best unamused look despite the fact that he left you very amused.

“I’m serious,” you said, fighting the smile tugging on your lips.

“I know you are,” he murmured, gaze flickering down to mouth. “I’m serious too – about marrying you and about your cookies.”

Heat filled your core. Like the undeniable pull of a magnet, you felt yourself drifting closer to him. “I bake more than just cookies, ya know.”

Benny groaned, “You’re teasin’ me, Bunny.”

“No, just letting you know what you’d be signing up with if you married me.” You smiled.

“I know exactly what I’m gettin’ myself into with you, Bunny,” he admitted slowly as he dipped his head lower, only a few inches from your face. His thumb and forefinger touched your chin softly. “Why else do you think I ran off Pete?”

You paused, brows furrowed at his words. “Wait, what?”

He didn’t seem to hear you as he continued forward and you lurched back before he could kiss you. “You did what to Pete?”

“I ran him off,” Benny explained as if it were obvious. “Had a talk with him.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out harshly, a feeling of being drenched in icy water washed over you. “You saw him? Where?” Then it dawned on you. “You saw him at Ricardo’s? He actually showed up?”

He remained quiet, watching as you turned from the ledge, standing and began to pace as you worked through the thoughts hitting you faster than you could process.

“You ran him off? Oh my god, Benny. Is that code for something? Did you kill him?” You squeaked, the possibility of poor Pete being having to fight for his life played out like a complete disaster in your head.

“No.” He shook his head as if annoyed.

“Well what does that mean, then?” Your voice raised an octave as unease gripped your heart. “Did you beat him up?”

“I told you. I had a talk with him.” He said simply as he turned, flipping his legs over the ledge and faced you.

“You intimidated him! You with your loud bike and leather jacket and mean look, it wasn’t just a talk. He doesn’t deserve that. Pete is a good guy.”

Benny lifted his hands up in a placating way but the sarcastic look on his face caused anger to spike through you.

“What makes you think you had the right to do that?” You demanded as you planted your hands on your hip. “Where do you get off from?”

He opened his mouth to say something but thought better and closed it.

“You intimidated my date,” you snapped. “A date I was actually excited for by the way. He was kind and . . . had a nice smile.”

“I don’t see the problem,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the ground in front of you.

“You don’t–” your mouth dropped open in shock, blood boiling at his audacity. You threw your hands up in exasperation as you spun away and made your way back to the ladder.

“Where are you going?” Benny called out as he trailed after you.

“I’m going home so I can call Pete and apologize.” You retorted over your shoulder. And probably check to see if he's not been put in the hospital because of the biker behind you.

Benny laughed. “I thought you said you were mad at him,”

“Well, I’m not anymore. I’m mad at you now,” You fumed as you shot him a look before you descended the ladder.

“Me?” Benny scrambled down the ladder after you but you didn’t slow your pace as you rounded the outside of the bar, heading for the sidewalk. It would be a long walk home, but you had no interest in getting a ride home from him.

He jogged to catch up, grabbing your arm to halt you. “I didn’t hurt ‘em. I swear.”

You spun around to face him. “That’s not the point. You men all think alike, don’t you? Thinkin' you can stake your claim like women are just . . . just objects, toys.”

Benny’s jaw clenched tightly. “I’m not goin’ to apologize for it if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You scoffed as you wrenched your arm free and turned away. You picked up your pace as you made your way down the sidewalk in the direction of you home.

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” He called out.

“Nope, I think it’s a perfect night for a walk, don’t you?” you replied without looking back, leaving Benny standing in the middle of the sidewalk in a stupefied silence.

-Tag List-

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#i'm desperate for some better quality gifs of benny #benny's in trouble hehe #benny x bunny #benny cross #the bikeriders #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #benny x reader #fluff #imagine #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you #tom hardy #jodie comer #bikeriders #jeff nichols #benny #motorcycle

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itsnesss · 1 month ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 | se-mi (player 380) × fem!reader

summary | you are saved by player 380 during the 'red light, green light' game. they form an alliance to survive

warnings | intense fear and suspense, gunshots and loud noises, psychological tension and distrust, temporary alliance for survival

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The air is heavy, thick like a storm about to burst. You don't remember how you got here. You only know that the white walls and oppressive silence leave no room for thoughts. You’re surrounded by strangers, all wearing the same expression: fear and desperation. Your legs tremble as you try to convince yourself that this is all a dream. A bad dream you’ll wake from.

The mechanical voice announces the beginning of the first game. You line up with the others, your heart pounding wildly. A massive figure, a doll with braids, watches you from the other end of the field. The contrast between her childish voice and the threat she represents turns your stomach.

“Red light, green light.”

The phrase sounds innocent, but the first burst of gunfire shatters any illusion. You watch people fall like ragdolls. The ground turns red, and the air fills with muffled screams. You want to run, scream, but your legs won’t respond.

You don’t dare move. Not yet.

When the doll turns her head, you feel cold sweat trickle down your neck. You force yourself to take one step, then another. Every time the doll sings, the world seems to freeze. You barely breathe. The fear is a knot in your throat that threatens to choke you.

Around you, people move with the same caution. Some stagger, others barely hide their panic. Every gunshot makes you jump.

You take another step. Just one more, you tell yourself. But then it happens.

Someone behind you trips. You don’t know who, or what made them fall, but the impact is enough to push you forward. Your arms flail in the air as you lose your balance. You see the ground coming, and think: *This is the end.*

Before you can hit the ground, a hand grabs you firmly.

A girl. Her face is serious, her eyes dark and focused. She doesn’t say anything, just stabilizes you with a swift motion, making sure you don’t fall.

The doll’s song ends just as you manage to stand still. Your breath is chaotic, but she doesn’t release your arm.

“Stay still,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

The silence is absolute as the doll turns its head. You feel like your heart will explode. When she finally starts singing again, the girl lets go of your arm and takes a step forward.

“Come,” she says, without looking at you.

You hesitate for a moment, but her words carry a weight you can’t ignore. You follow her.

She moves with calculated, precise movements. She seems to know exactly how to move, how to stay in control. You, on the other hand, stagger with every step, and fear threatens to paralyze you.

“Don’t fall behind,” she says, her tone brooking no argument.

You nod, though you’re not sure if she can see you. You try to imitate her rhythm, keep her pace. But it’s difficult. The doll’s song, the gunshots, the screams… everything mixes into a deafening noise that fills your head.

You take another step. Another. The end of the field seems as far away as the horizon.

You stop when she does, and every time the doll sings, you try not to breathe. You know that any movement, no matter how small, could be your last.

The girl keeps moving, and you follow her as if your life depends on it. Because, in reality, it does.

Then, the finish line appears on the horizon. It’s so close, yet so far.

“Run when I do,” she says. Her voice is low, but firm.

“What?” you murmur, dazed.

“Just do it.”

The song starts again, and you freeze. The seconds feel like hours. Every fiber of your being is tense, waiting for the moment when she moves.

When she does, you run after her.

Your legs burn, your heart races uncontrollably, but you don’t stop. Every step is a fight against time.

“Let’s go!” she shouts, glancing back to make sure you’re following.

The line is just a few meters away, but the song ends before you can reach it. You both freeze in place.

Silence returns, broken only by the gunshots behind you. You don’t dare look. You can’t.

When the song starts again, she grabs your hand.

“Run,” she says.

And you do. Together, you cross the line just as the song ends for the last time.

You collapse onto the ground, unable to hold yourself up. Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath. Around you, the screams and gunshots continue, but you can’t process them.

She kneels beside you, still holding your hand. Her breath is heavy, but her face remains as serious as ever.

“Thank you…” you whisper, your voice breaking.

She looks at you for a moment, then nods.

“Don’t fall behind again,” she says. Her tone isn’t kind, but it’s not cold either.

You try to smile, though your lips tremble.

“I’ll try.”

She doesn’t respond but doesn’t let go of your hand.

The world around you starts to calm, but you can’t shake the chaos inside. Player 380 stands next to you, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Finally, she turns, as if nothing happened.

“Wait,” you manage to say, shakily getting up.

She doesn’t stop.

“Hey!” you insist, taking a few quick steps toward her. You catch up to her before she can merge with the group that’s now gathering at the end of the field.

Player 380 turns, her dark eyes watching you with a mix of irritation and exhaustion.

“What?”

Her tone is cold, but you’re not intimidated. Not after what just happened.

“Thank you for saving me. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“I did it because I didn’t want you to get me killed with your clumsy moves,” she replies, shrugging.

You know she’s not entirely serious. You see something in her eyes, something she’s reluctant to admit. You don’t want to let the moment slip away.

“Still, you helped me. Don’t forget, I owe you one.”

Se-mi looks at you in silence for a few seconds that feel eternal. Finally, she lets out a sigh and shakes her head.

“Do what you want, but don’t follow me.”

“Why not? If we work together, we have a better chance of surviving.”

“Work together?” she repeats, as if the idea seems strange to her. She looks toward the group, then toward the doll, which stands still in the distance. Finally, her attention returns to you. There’s a pause, as if she’s considering your words.

“This isn’t a team game,” she finally says.

“But it could be if you and I make one,” you reply quickly, holding on to the small opening you sense in her attitude.

Se-mi frowns, clearly uncomfortable. But she doesn’t pull away.

“Listen, I don’t trust anyone here,” she says.

“Neither do I,” you admit. “But I’m not going to survive alone. And neither are you.”

She lets out another sigh, this time longer, as if giving in to the idea.

“Alright. An alliance. But only for convenience.”

“Only for convenience,” you repeat, though deep down, you feel a small spark of relief.

“And one more thing,” Se-mi adds, pointing a finger at you. “If you start acting like a burden, I’ll leave you behind.”

You nod, understanding that this is her way of protecting herself.

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?” she asks finally, though the question seems to cost her.

You hesitate for a moment before saying it. She nods, but doesn’t offer hers.

“Stay close,” she murmurs.

For the first time since you entered this hellish place, you feel like you have a small chance of getting out alive. In a place where trust can cost you your life, you decide that risking it with her will be your best bet.

For now.

#squid game 2 #squid games #squid game #player 380 #player380 x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 22 days ago

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I Heart You

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was struggling so hard against the abyss that is writer's block yesterday and then this suddenly came out of me

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, children, parenthood, silly, kissing, references to Sylus's Mountain Journey and myth

Word Count: 1,152

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Something touches Sylus's face, undeniably the felt tip of a marker. It tickles his cheek. Stifled giggles tell him exactly who is behind it.

The marker clicks shut and he strikes, grabbing the culprit and hugging them close to his chest while they squeal with surprise. "What mischief have you gotten into now?" he asks, leveling a narrowed stare at his daughter.

She laughs freely now, with a smile so bright it lights up the entire N109 Zone. "None!"

"Oh, really? Then what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing!" she giggles out. She tries to throw the marker away, but his Evol catches it midair and brings it right back to him. "That's cheating!"

He chuckles. "You're sneaking around to attack a poor, defenseless man while he sleeps, but I'm cheating when I catch you red-handed?" He pokes the capped end of the marker to her cheek. "What did you draw on my face?"

She sits up, slipping down to sit in his lap. Maybe it's his fault for thinking it was safe to drift off in the living room chair, open and exposed for his devilish child to have free rein in messing with him. Tiny hands reach up to hold his face.

"You have to guess!"

"Do I? Well..." He pretends to think about it for a moment. Truth be told, he recognized the shape immediately, from a time years before his baby dragon was born. A time before she was even a concept. "Is it Mephisto?"

She giggles again and shakes her head.

"No? How about... a self-portrait?"

"What's that?"

"A drawing of you."

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh, not me."

"Is it a drawing of me, then?"

"Nope!"

He sighs, as though this game is simply far too difficult for him. "I need a hint. Can you trace it for me?"

Sylus gets almost giddy at the feeling of her little finger as it follows the drawn shape on his cheek. It's overwhelming, sometimes, the love he has for his little girl. An ache forms in his chest every time he remembers he gets to watch her grow up. He has to swallow it down even now to focus solely on their little game.

"I know what it is," he says once she's traced it twice. He smiles. "It's a heart."

Her eyes light up as she nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Missus Staf- Stef-"

"Stefano."

"Stef-ano said that it means 'love' and that we should give the people we love a heart to show we love them!" She pokes his cheek, right in the center of the heart. "Cuz I love you!"

Sylus chuckles softly, heart overflowing. He hugs her to him again and kisses her chubby little cheek. "I love you too, sweetie. Do you want me to give you a heart?"

She looks up at him like the thought never occurred to her that she could get a heart in return. She nods. "Yeah!"

"Okay, but we shouldn't draw on people's faces. Give me your hand."

He uncaps the marker with one hand. With his other, her little hand rests in his palm, dwarfed by the sheer size of it. In two quick lines, a heart is drawn on the back of her hand. She turns her hand every which way to see it. She looks at it like it's worth a billion dollars.

The door to the room clicks open. "Sweetie, I told you to leave daddy alone while he's napping."

She doesn't process that she's being scolded at all as she climbs out of his lap and runs to the door where you stand, hand outstretched. "Look, look! Daddy gave me a heart! Cuz Missus Stef-an- Stef-"

"Stefano," you supply.

"Cuz Missus Stef-an-o said to give a heart to the people we love!"

You smile. "That's very sweet, baby! It's beautiful."

"I had to return the favor," Sylus says, showing you her own crudely drawn heart on his cheek. There's a knowing gleam in his eye. "You need one, too, beloved."

Your daughter is immediately taken with the idea. She grabs your hand and bounces on her feet as she drags you over. "Yeah, yeah! We should all have one!"

You sit on one of Sylus's legs as she crawls up into the other. He passes the marker back to her. "Not on the face," he gently reminds her.

"Right!" She grabs your hand to hold it in place (rather clumsily) so she can draw the heart. She tries to be more careful with it this time, to make it extra pretty. The lines end up wobbly and the heart is larger on one side than the other, but she beams at her masterpiece when she's finished. "Now we all have hearts!"

"Did you give uncle Luke and uncle Kieran hearts, too?" Sylus asks.

She gasps. "Oh no! They need hearts!" She scrambles off his leg, nearly falling to the floor in her haste. In no time at all, she's out the door and on a mission.

In the quiet left in her wake, Sylus picks up your hand and interlaces your fingers. He places little kisses to your knuckles. You readjust in his lap to rest your head on his shoulder, taking in the rare peaceful moment.

"Too bad she took the marker with her." You poke his bare cheek with your free hand. "I could've given you a heart from me."

He looks down at you with a smile. "It's still there, from our little roadtrip."

"I'm surprised you remember that."

"Of course I remember it," he scoffs. "We still need to go back there, after all."

You smile wistfully. "The tree..."

He nods with a hum, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "It's almost been a decade. We can bring her along, tell her the story about it."

Memories flood through you. Back then, you were both holding back, truth be told. Real affection hidden under teasing and banter. It was safer to hide under that layer of protection. You're glad you don't have to hide anymore.

You trace your fingers along his jaw to guide his mouth to yours. A kiss so sweet and simple, soft and slow. He lets out a noise of contentment against your lips. When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning triumphantly when you giggle at the ticklish touch.

"You can get back to your nap now," you tell him, voice just a whisper.

He shakes his head before you can get off him. "It's almost dinnertime. I'll help you cook." His arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting you effortlessly as he stands and carries you out of the lounge.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek once more. "I heart you, Sy," you say teasingly.

He chuckles and rubs his cheek against your head until your laugh fills the air. "I heart you, too, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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elssero · 2 months ago

Text

꩜ enlightenment

i.midoriya

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 01 2k words.

next, masterlist.

11:58am.

if izuku hasn’t been nervous the entire morning then he definitely is now, it feels like he’s standing on the edge of a diving board, his heart raceing, beating faster than usual, a tightness in his chest.

in two minutes exactly his long awaited test results will be emailed to him by his professor, to say he’s dreading it is an understatement. the class is english, and although not his major, it’s a class that izuku needs to do well in, or at least pass.

however going by his previous results that’s appearing to be easier said than done.

he sits on the edge of his chair, his leg bouncing uncontrollably as he stares at his computer. his hands are clasped tightly together, his knuckles pale from the pressure. every few moments, he wipes his palms on his pants, only for them to become clammy again.

izuku’s mind is a whirlwind of scenarios as it often is, flipping between hope and dread, each possibility more vivid than the last. his lips press into a thin line, then part slightly as he mutters something to himself, maybe a prayer or just a reassurance. he glances at the clock, then at the computer again, his heart thudding in his ears. when the notification finally comes, his breath catches, his hand trembling as he reaches to open it.

fail.

the email reads kind, he can tell his professor is attempting to soften the blow. excuses about his stupid mistakes or skills that just need more development, but izuku can’t tear his eye away from the result- disappointment.

he skims through the rest of the email, finding nothing of note until the last paragraph in which his professor suggests that maybe, a tutor could actually do izuku some good, followed by what appears to be the email of a fellow student of his.

he doesn’t fight the sigh that is let out in response, this isn’t the first time the idea of a tutor has been brung up to izuku. looking at his results for this english tests during his first semester would tell you that he definitely needs one.

maybe it’s a confidence thing, or maybe it’s the fact he’s never had a tutor before, but izuku is terrified- to the extent he’s been dodging his tutors suggestion of a tutor for weeks.

he doesn’t need one- he just needs to put some extra work in- why is he even taking english in the first place? it’s not like he needs to know the history of shakespeare for a mechanical engineering degree??

extra classes are a waste of time anyway.

regardless of his little temper tantrum- izuku knows in the back of his mind that this extra curricular would look great on his degree, and he’s spent far too many hours studying to just give in now.

12:14pm.

“you remember that boy that keeps refusing your tutoring? he failed another test today.”

shaking your head in disappointment you take ur report from your bag and hand it to mr yamada before you respond- “did you offer him my tutoring again?”

“yes- i even sent him your email address over in the hopes he gets drunk one night and begs you to tutor him. honestly it’s like he doesn’t want to pass”

there’s an exasperated look on your professors face amidst the giggle he lets out at the idea of his student drunk, you’ve spent enough time with him to know that this kid is stressing him out- it’s clear how much he cares about his students, something in which you admire about him.

“keep pestering him- i’m sure he’ll come around��

“i’m not so sure- midoriya is extremely stubborn, even though he doesn’t seem it- asking for help can be difficult for some kids.” you swear you watch your professors eyes flick up to your own, you get the feeling he may be alluding to something more than midoriya here.

you shake your head anyway, a small smile on your face. you’ve spent so much time in professor yamada’s office this year you’d be as well setting up camp there- it’s a silly thought.

you think back to midoriya, and what you know- or don’t know about him.

he’s a mechanical engineering student, taking english as an extra class to fill out his timetable and he’s definitely struggling. you can’t blame him- it’s not for everyone.

however he appears to be extremely and entirely against tutoring? your not taking it personally, as the boy doesn’t know who you are, but you can’t help this weird feeling in your chest- that you want to help him.

you can’t explain it, not at all. you’ve never met this boy, the only details about him you know are recounts from your shared professor, but you can’t help this internal need to want to teach him, for him to do well.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to either you or mr yamada when midoriya ignores the suggestion of tutoring in his response email, instead giving his professor a quick thanks for his grade and wishing him a good weekend.

at least he’s polite.

your time with your professor ends quickly after that, quickly bidding him goodbye with the promise of seeing him on monday before your on your way. midoriya is out of your mind by the time your off campus.

11:42pm

It’s the second friday of the month, which means that tonight midoriya will spend almost his entire weekend stuck in this stupid gas station.

living in a college town means he can expect the groups of young adults walking in any second- either already extremely drunk or looking to buy the means to get there.

he doesn’t hate his job- no definitely not. He likes the night shifts during the weeks, it’s quiet, and lonely, and he has the entire place to himself the whole night. it’s the weekend shifts that midoriya dislikes- pity he’s forced to work at least one every two weeks.

a ring of the door can be heard from the other side of the store than him, he can see the group of people from the cameras next to the till. the group looks around his age, if not a little older, two men in dark clothing with coloured hair- a cheerful blonde girl, and another, quieter girl walking hand in hand with her.

midoriya can’t see much of their faces, but he can tell the quieter one is pretty right of the bat- he straightens himself up a little, maybe a little too eagerly.

he watches as the group walk around the stalls, grabbing snacks with alcohol and cigarettes- the tall one with the dark hair is very particular about his narcotics.

when they finally get to the till midoriya can smell the weed immediately- particularly from the men of the group. they’re being shushed as they approach the counter, being told to stay back as the pretty one continues forward to pay for their haul.

“hi- uh sorry about my friends- they’re a little out of it right now.”

izuku is even more enamoured by you as you get close to him- tired eyes and a slight smile- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone more beautiful.

“uh- yeah it’s fine” he doesn’t say anything more- instead he stands stiff, eyes locked into yours, it’s not until your eyes make a quick look down to your basket of items that he remembers he’s at work- and that he has a job to do.

“oh sorry- let me ring you up quickly”

he’s trying to go as fast as he can- but his nerves are bubbling and he feels like an idiot for being so affected by one pretty girl. your making small talk with him, asking about his shift and when he gets off, he’s trying to answer the best he can.

“can I see some id please?” you have no problems taking out your id- handing it to izuku without a second thought, allowing him time to get your name, he forgets to even check that your above age until the very last second.

“uh- nice name.” he swallows immediately after saying it-

“oh! thank you-“ you pause, taking a moment to look down at his name card, probably so you return the favour. he curses that the nicknames that his work put in place for ‘safety.’

“uh- deku? thank you, your name is…” stupid, he thinks, it’s childish and idiotic. “pretty cute actually.”

that puts him at a standstill- it’s not even his real name but your compliment makes him freeze.

“well um- thank you for the service, enjoy your shift deku.”

your out the door with your friends before he can even answer- he doesn’t get a number, or a social media handle. Just an engrained image of your face and a name.

a name that read way to familiar- has he heard of you before?

it doesn’t matter anyway- he’ll probably never see you again after tonight, unless you take another late night trip to the gas station, izuku kinda hopes that you will.

it’s while now until another customer comes in, and even longer until the next, izuku has his headphones in in order to pass the time and it’s working pretty well. he can’t help himself but start to think back to school, finding himself hovering over the email his professor had sent him earlier.

would having a tutor really be that bad? maybe it’ll end up really helping him? he just needs to pass english this year and he doesn’t have to do it ever again, he can get through a few months of this right?

he opens the email after a long debate, still undecided on his decision to finally accept the offering of tutoring when the email attached catches his eye.

it’s a name- no it’s your name- the pretty girl with the weird friends name.

this has to be a sign- right? or maybe it’s a bad idea to only begin tutoring because you think the girl that’ll be tutoring you is pretty- maybe he should count his blessings that you don’t already think he’s some loser who’s failing english- maybe he should reject the tutor completely, or ask for someone different??

he doesn’t know- but he does know that he thinks your maybe the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and that you smiled at him, and you called his name cute- and he’s writing up a draft email to send to his professor that he’s finally came around to the idea of being tutored.

it’s fine- it’ll all be fine- and if it doesn’t work out then he’ll drop out of university and work in this stupid gas station his entire life.

really it’s far too late to send this email now-its entirely unprofessional. but izuku is so worried that he’ll pussy out tomorrow morning than he sends it anyway, at nearly 1am.

he wishes he was surprised when his professor emails him back within 10 minutes- seemingly ecstatic about the idea of izuku finally coming around- that he won’t regret it- he’s sure that this will do him a lot of good- he’ll be passing with flying colours in no time.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea- he’ll just have to wait and see. but izuku now has a chance to have any conversation with you, and that’s all that matters.

taglist: @rueclfer @crimsonrubie @lovernatashaa

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daistea · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Daistea! You are absolutly THE Mithrun writer! You catch his essence so well

I was wondering if you could write a prequel to "first burn"? I would love to hear more of his thoughts about cultivating his desire for intimacy and affection with reader

Thank you so much for doing such good for the fandom!

Thank you friend! Here you go, though I kinda just.. rambled with this one. I was just having fun, I hope you like it.

Mithrun x gn Reader

Post-Canon / spoilers maybe

word count: 2,200

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It wasn’t as if there was a handbook on how to cultivate desires. It wasn’t as if ‘normal’ people understood and recognized the process of desire. It wasn’t as if Mithrun had any clue what he was doing.

That, in and of itself, felt like a swaying tightrope he was only barely balancing on. Atop that, discomfort was a new concept. The end result was only more stark, suffocating discomfort. Mithrun usually knew what to do; if he ever had to figure something out, the solution came quickly, effortlessly. He was beginning to think he’d been spoiled in that area. Having such unfettered focus lended itself to problem solving.

Mithrun watched you. Perhaps he could be the one to write the handbook on desire. And there’d be an entire chapter dedicated to you. Was it possible to have a desire for desire? He supposed as much. He was stuck on the outer rims of the feeling, staring through a dusty window at what could be if only he could be. He was a planet stuck in the farthest orbit from the sun, and it was cold, and nobody really saw him there in the sky because he was so damn far away.

You ran your fingers through your hair. His attention snapped back to you like a taut rubber band. There must be a footnote in the handbook on cultivating desires about your small habits. You fidgeted, you shifted, your smile twisted into different shapes depending on your mood and every one of these habits must be footnoted.

Mithrun couldn’t help but make a grimace. He rested his chin in his palm and tore his gaze away, instead following the lines of the wooden panels in the wall of the restaurant. The handbook was going to be long— Gods, he wasn’t going to write it, he didn’t care enough to put in the effort. Nevertheless, one of the jagged lines in the wood paneling unlocked something within his brain. The very fact that he relentlessly took note of your every minute detail said something.

What did it say? Mithrun moved onto the next line in the wood. It gave him nothing. What did it say, Mithrun? What was the implication? It isn’t a hard question, Mithrun. Just answer. Just say it. Just—

He clenched his fist. He clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. You were still chatting away with the restaurant owner and he had half a mind to grab you by the waist and teleport you elsewhere, a place where you’d only pay attention to him. Only him. Perhaps that would answer the devastatingly easy implications that confounded him.

A wandering part of his mind, a traveler— which was a new feature: wandering— brought forth a query. What would you say about his inner turmoil? Most likely something along the lines of ‘I’m proud of you for trying, don’t pressure yourself so much.’ And he would ignore your words entirely because Mithrun wanted to want.

He must do something. There was that objective knowledge of what the situation required, it wasn’t exactly desire, but it was motivating. You deserved more. You deserved to have your hand held. You deserved kisses on your neck. You deserved gasps and moans and weak knees. He imagined the scene; you, beneath him, or in his lap, perhaps. You, closing your eyes, brows furrowed, whimpering as you sunk down and…

Nothing. Mithrun knew he was making some sort of face, because a half-foot scurried past his table with wide eyes. Whatever.

Enough, he decided. It had been forty years since he had experienced any form of physical intimacy. While some feelings were more difficult to connect with, frustration was one of the easiest to identify. He’d had enough.

Without a word to you— he probably should’ve given you a word, but he was in a hurry— Mithrun called upon his mana, the lingering spirits, and clenched his fist. A fourth of a second passed, a blink of an eye. He didn’t mean to end up on the kitchen floor of his apartment, but fine. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but you.

Mithrun sighed and laid back. The tile was cool on the exposed skin of his hands as he stretched out his limbs. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings. He could already feel a dull headache coming on from the hardness of the floor. Okay.

Routine: eyes closed, deep breaths, sinking into the floor and smelling the air and hearing the sounds. His kitchen smelled like soap. The sounds were absent. Images of you flickered through his mind, a rope gently tied around his body, pulling him deeper into the warm flood-waters. He imagined your arms, your waist, your thighs, your lips, your eyes, your laugh, your gasps, your stare, your hair, your hands, your knees, your chest, your stomach. Then, running his hands up your waist. Holding you. How would you feel with your body against his? How would your hand fit with his?

For a moment, Mithrun felt his heart pull and twist. Objectively, that was the physical reaction to adrenaline hormones in one’s body; anxiety. Yet, he didn’t believe he was anxious. He took a moment to wrack his brain, and the process of doing so always reminded him of the file room in the old Canaries headquarters. Papers would flip across his thumb as he searched for the right information. All he needed was a glimpse of the right set of letters, the right combination of words, until he found what he needed.

For an elf, forty-ish years wasn’t too long. Mithrun had spent the majority of his life as an entirely different person— may he rest in agony. He sometimes looked back on memories in order to identify a feeling. Past Mithrun would feel that pull and twist when Lord Kerensil made those snide comments about Mithrun’s biological father. That twist and pull was always present when Obrin idly, innocently, mentioned an investment deal he’d been allowed to participate in, as the heir to the House of Kerensil. That twist and pull was present when he saw Sultha send Obrin those wry smiles, how her lips twisted in a way that made Mithrun sick to his stomach.

To even dare associate that feeling with you brought the same nausea.

Yet, perhaps it wasn’t about you.

Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was the self-loathing. He’d always carried it like a disease, though the symptoms only appeared in certain moments. Lately, though, he’d been sick with it more often than not. The happiness of a new purpose was parallel to the newfound connection with his more negative emotions. Mithrun supposed that it was person-hood; anger, sadness, joy, attraction, deep and intense adoration that made him physically ill when he meditated for too long about how he couldn’t quite feel the allure of a kiss.

That was his person-hood. Mithrun’s life was a constant struggle, and the kitchen floor felt abnormally cold that evening.

Kabru suggested that Mithrun keep track of new developments. It would help him, Kabru said. Mithrun had no protests nor interest in the theory, but nothing better to do, so he had a journal. Thus far, only one page in the journal had been filled. It said:

1. Cheese is alright, preferably on bread

Very exciting, at least for some— you and Kabru, particularly. Mithrun had a preference! Despite your excitement, you still put up your hands and waved them as if to ward off the positivity, “You’ve always had preferences, you know. It was just easy to overlook them.”

Mithrun supposed you were right. He had plenty to complain about. That was preference-based, in a way. Obsession over the demon was such a large issue, though, that it left no room for anything else. It was like a flood, seeping into every corner, taking every inch, leaving nothing untouched and dry.

The second item in the journal was:

2. Black coffee, two sugars

That was how he used to drink it. Some things never changed. Even if the timing was different throughout the year, the sun would always rise and set.

3. Desiring some sort of physical contact involving hands (with [name] specifically)

And when Mithrun desired something, he would have it. Inevitable. He knew from an objective standpoint that carrying on with that view would only lead to disappointment, but the desire to change did not arise.

Mithrun began taking your hand whenever the opportunity presented itself.

The first time, you glanced at him. Your lips were parted and your eyes the slightest bit wider. You looked down at your intertwined fingers. Mithrun did not dare look away from your face as you studied how each finger fit together like pieces of a puzzle— designed specifically for each other.

When you turned your head back to the person you were originally speaking to and resumed your conversation, satisfaction like a warm blanket settled over Mithrun’s shoulders and chest. He may have looked a bit smug without realizing it, for your conversation partner sent him a look.

4. The palm is more sensitive than I remember. I think it would be okay to use it.

Mithrun pressed the palm of his hand against the small of your back. You had no reaction. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that you accepted his touch so readily, or displeased that he saw no acknowledgement. He settled for some in-between feeling that even Past Mithrun could not identify.

Without putting it into certain words, Mithrun had an idea of why his skin felt so sensitive to your touch. For one, he’d gone so long without physical touch that his nerves were desert dwellers encountering an oasis for the first time. Secondly, it was the broadest part of the hand. The fingers were important, of course, they wrapped and they clutched and they stroked. Yet, the palm was deeper. It was taken for granted. Everybody in possession of fingers used them every day of their life. They were mundane, almost. The palm, though, was for cradling. The palm was for tracing. The palm was—

Mithrun lifted your hand without a second thought. He’d nearly forgotten what shame felt like, it was another one of those objective feelings that he could identify in others but not quite connect with. Shame was not present at that moment, and he was pleased for that fact. If he had shame, then he would not experience the feeling of your palm against his lips.

He held your wrist with both hands. Your skin smelled like soap, and it was not exactly soft. There were lines and ridges on the palm, but he took a moment to memorize the shape of each one against his lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot between your thumb and index finger.

Your conversation partner looked away. You looked at Mithrun. He looked at you, his good eye fluttering open and taking in the sight of your expectancy and surprise and fondness and embarrassment.

Three seconds passed. Mithrun knew it was three seconds that passed because he counted. One, pause. Two, pause. Three, pause.

��You swallowed and looked back at the person you’d been speaking to. Mithrun knew them, but didn’t care enough to allow his brain to make that connection between their face and his memories. His gaze was solely on you. Your profile was silhouetted against the orange sunset of Melini.

“Anyway, what were you saying?” You asked the person Mithrun didn’t care to identify— because you were the newest flood. You spread in a similar manner, filling up every inch and leaving nothing dry. Something in the back of his mind told him that that wasn’t healthy. Where there was a flood, there was mold and rot and destruction.

Whatever.

“The state of Melini,” your conversation partner said, “it’s really becoming a nation now.”

You nodded, “It’ll take time, but we’ll get there.”

That was such a generic statement, but you believed it. Perhaps the commonplace quality of the statement was what made it less feasible. Yet, when coming from your lips, Mithrun could almost imagine it.

Your lips. You said the most wonderful things, even when they were totally common and quotidian. You could tell Mithrun that the sun had exploded, and despite the clear existence of the sun in the sky at that very moment, he’d agree with you simply to see you satisfied.

The desire to kiss you hit Mithrun like a slap to the face— no, actually, Past Mithrun had been slapped several times before, and he always knew it was coming. The desire to kiss you hit him like the taste of cheese on toasted bread, like the pleasure of a black coffee with two sugars, like the shiver down his spine when your palm pressed against his.

And finally, the handbook of desire was written. There were no words. It didn’t need words.

He desired you.

What even was attraction? What even was happiness and anger and desire? It was so subjective that the answer would never satisfy the inquirer. And Mithrun was tired of dissatisfaction.

And it was time to act.

And it was time to open the gates.

And it was time to drown in desires he’d never let himself acknowledge.

5. Start slowly. Whatever happens, happens. You can want now.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

#mithrun x reader #mithrun #asks #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dunmeshi #my writing #reader x character #reader inserts #gender neutral reader #dungeon meshi reader inserts #dungeon meshi x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 year ago

Text

I've got McCabe

Hi guys :)

So this is a request from here (never been so quick in my life) and I've never write with Katie before so I hope it would suit you all!

Enjoy :)

TW : Love fight, swearing, Nothing else I think

______________________________________________________________

Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you cherish in everyday life. Everyone knows her reputation on the football fields, and you will never deny the truth of this, but Katie obviously has good sides to tip the scales and drive you crazy about her.

Your little bickering comes mainly from her Irish origins of which she is very proud, while you are just as proud from your Scottish origins. You certainly don’t have a team as strong as England or even Ireland, but your talents have allowed you to be spotted by Arsenal for many years and this is where you still play today. Needless to say, where you met Katie.

For today, you don’t know exactly when your mutual teasing started. You have learned over time to respond to Katie when she starts teasing you, not wishing to leave her the last word every time.

The problem today is that neither of you seems to want to admit defeat. What started out as childish games is nicely being transformed into something else while a certain mutual annoyance is being felt on both sides.

Your teammates must have felt it, Leah grabbing Katie during the lunch break while you almost get kidnap by a Beth Mead apparently more than happy to show you pictures of her puppy. You can’t say that it didn’t work, you are literally a fan of this little cutie.

But after the lunch break, when the training started again, it only takes a little teasing from Katie to start again. And again, you don’t want to let it pass, there’s no reason why it’s always you who gives up, after all.

The limit is exceeded just at the end of the training, while Katie asks you to please go store her dumbbells with yours. Already having yours to carry and a ball in the other hand, you answer her that she only has to get up to do it herself. "Well, at least Ruesha would have done it for me." This one, it hurts.

You remain frozen a few seconds there before turning slowly in the direction of the Irish which seems to realize despite everything what she has just said. But Katie doesn’t add anything, just looking at you from the mattress she’s sitting on with wide eyes. "Fuck you, Katie" you mumble coldly before disappearing from the room. The idea of throwing the ball you hold in your hand on her head would have been tempting and you admit to having thought about it for a few moments. But you weren’t alone and it was out of the question for you to provoke a real scene with violence to the key. "Mate..." sighs Leah once you leave the room. "Wha' " grunts Katie without looking at the blonde. "That was a terrible comment" "Shut up" In truth, Katie knows very well that she has crossed the line and she is very uncomfortable. Hurting you is never her intention, she has always been very careful with her behavior with you, treating you like a princess on a daily basis. Except when she decides to test your limits like today. It never went that far though. Leah answers nothing, content to follow the brunette to the changing rooms to go shower and change. Katie frowns when she sees that you’re not there anymore and your stuff either. "She left. Alessia brings her home. And you’re definitely going to sleep on the couch tonight" Kyra informs her before going to take a shower. The information squeezes Katie’s heart, you live together, so it makes sense to travel together. But she particularly likes to see you in the role of HER passenger princess.

It’s with her mind elsewhere that Irish showers and changes, taking her time in seeking the best solution to fix things. However, it’s difficult for her to know what to do since she doesn’t know what treatment she will be entitled to once she arrives home.

Are you gonna yell at her? Ignore her? Are you even going to be there or will she be allowed a simple post-it on your fridge informing her that she just has to go to hell?

It’s not in a safe state that Katie gently open the door to your house. The living room is empty, but your sneakers are carefully placed on the shoe cabinet of the entrance, informing her of your presence at home. But you’re not in the part of the living room that she can see from where she is.

"Babe?"

Only silence answers her, which doesn’t particularly surprise her. You’re stubborn too and usually Katie liked that about you. But not today.

Sighing, Katie drops her bag at the entrance and walks a little further into the house. She finally finds yourself sitting at the kitchen table, apparently completely absorbed in your readings. Yes, because in addition to your training and games, you’ve been doing correspondence marketing studies. Just in case.

"Are you still angry?" Katie tries to get closer to you.

But you just answer her that a breath of the nose, without looking up from your book. If only she knew you couldn’t concentrate for more than ten seconds. You were really hurt by her remark, even if you think (hope) that she doesn’t think about it for a single second. What could be worse than being compared to her girlfriend’s ex by the principal concerned?

"Babe please, can we just…"

"Don’t fucking touch me McCabe!"

You jumped on your legs as she approached you, ready to put her hand on your arm. In your heart you obviously appreciated that she tries a reconciliation and that she tries to catch up, but it’s still too early for the moment. Your hands tremble with anger when you go to lock yourself in your room, slamming violently the door behind you.

********

"I don’t know mate, she seems really upset. She surname me!"

Katie walks around your backyard, whispering softly on the phone so you don’t hear her. She tried several times to knock on the door of your room but you never answered her, worse you even blocked the handle of the door so that she could not join you.

Leah, on the other end of the phone, has to admit that she is impressed by the strength of character with which you stand up to Katie. But Katie is still her friend and she obviously wants you to make up.

"At the same time, you compared her to your ex. Anyone would have taken it badly. I would have probably killed you."

"I know, Lee. But I can’t go back to the past, what do you want me to do?"

"Apologize?"

"She won’t listen to me, she won’t even let me in the same room as her."

"The good news is she didn’t strangle you" Leah comments with amusement.

"Not yet" answers Katie with a gloomy air.

"Let her calm down a little and in the meantime prepare an apology in good form"

"What do you mean?" asks Katie, mechanically looking up at your bedroom.

"Go get her some flowers, make her a candlelight dinner… what you know will please her."

"I have another idea" ended up answering Katie after a few seconds of reflection.

********

The night has fallen for a little while when almost timid blows are again thrown against the door of your bedroom. You sigh as you hear Katie’s voice rise from behind the door.

"I know you’re still very angry with me, but can you meet me at the livingroom please?"

You roll your eyes without answering, sitting on your side, back to the door. Now that the anger has dissipated, you realize that you were also hurt by the Irish comment. So you decide not to go. At least that was before you got a message on your phone.

Katie 🍀❤️ Baby please?

You let out a big sigh before you get out of bed. With your hands in yours (Katie’s) training pockets and your face frown, you finally leave your room. After moving the chair you had placed under the handle so that she could not enter.

When she hears your bedroom door open, Katie almost teleports to you.

"Can you close your eyes?"

"I’m not in the mood, Katie" you grumble in a low voice.

"Please" she whines.

You stare at her for a few seconds before sighing again and obeying. You let her take both hands to train you to the living room, stopping in the free passage left by the two sofas installed in the living room. Without letting go of your hands, Katie whispers

"You can open them"

You blink twice to regain clear vision and remain speechless in front of what was previously your living room. Katie installed cozy plaids and cushions on the sofa, she lit your fireplace and decorated the room with many Harry Potter goodies. You’re a fan of it, defending your house, Ravenclaw. Needless to say, the one you share your life with is from another house, which you confirmed when you forced her to take the test. Needless to say which one. (Slytherin)

On the coffee table Katie prepared bowls with several snacks and cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Everything looks like one of those photos that are on Instagram. Well, almost. Because in these photos, there’s not Katie McCabe looking at you with as much apprehension as if you were a bomb ready to explode.

"I’m sorry I was stupid like that and I hurt you. I didn’t think about it and you have no idea how much I blame myself. I should never have said that when I haven’t thought about my ex in forever and even less since we’ve been together. I mean, of course we see each other when we’re training on the national team, but that’s it. She has nothing to do with you. I’m so sorry, Baby, I swear."

Katie rambles a little bit and you get to see the nervousness behind her clumsy speech. And it makes you feel terribly tender. Realizing that she still has your hands in hers, Katie gently pulls on it to draw you a little closer to her.

"I’m not just angry. What you said is hurtful, too, Kat."

"I know" she whispers, dropping one of your hands and putting hers gently under your chin. "But I don’t mean a word of it. No one can match you."

Your gaze in her blue eyes is enough to convince you of her sincerity and despair at the idea that you may not forgive her. It’s that side of Katie that you fell in love with as well, that part that she shows almost nobody. Katie is a loyal and attentive friend, which people know as well. But she is also a tender woman who enjoys cuddling with her girlfriend. You.

"I love you so much" she adds after a few seconds, pressing her forehead against yours. "Please, forgive me."

"Okay" you end up answering softly.

Her smile is so great of joy and relief that you can’t help but smile back.

"But on condition that we watch the first film" you add, pointing to the television with a nod.

"Anything you want."

Katie hurries to make you settle into the couch, perhaps doing a little too much by hurrying to bring a stool so that you can put your feet on it. But you let her, amused by her behavior. She then runs to dim the light in the living room, hands you a cup of hot chocolate and a glass of water if « the chocolate is too chocolate ». She tenderly wraps you in a plaid, asking if you want a cushion and arranges the food bowls so that you have everything near you.

"Are you missing something?" Katie asks, looking closely around her.

"Yes" you answer with a smile.

"What?"

"You."

Bowing an eyebrow, you lift a corner of the blanket in which you are wrapped so that she comes to settle next to you. What she does smiling, even accepting that you shift to allow her too to put her feet on the stool with you. After making sure again that you didn’t miss anything, Katie launches the film and you gently lean your head on her shoulder when she puts her arm around yours.

Ten good minutes passed when you look up at Katie’s face, lit by the lights of the television.

"Babe?" you call her gently, making her look off the screen.

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

A soft smile is born on her face and you would swear that it will remain there until the end of the evening. Including when she leans over you to kiss you right now, then every other time during the movie.

Katie McCabe may be a fool, but she’s your fool.

________________________________________________

So… Katie McCabe is a Slytherin, what do you think? 😂

#woso x reader #woso imagine #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine

485 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months ago

Text

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

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 16.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you said. She scowled.

“I’m serious!” she said.

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

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

“Oh, then who did?” you said.

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

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

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

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

“I confronted him afterwards,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Green?” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was suspicious,” he informed you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly,” you said.

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

“I try!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any success?” you said.

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

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

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

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

“We can only hope,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he said bluntly.

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

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

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

“Obviously,” you said.

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

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

“Second?” he said.

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

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

“So you’ll do it?” you said.

“I’ll do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a genius!” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiori? From what?” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” your best friend said.

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

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

“That guy is scary,” you said.

“Scary hot,” my best friend said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘are you watching the game??’

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

‘so is yukimiya!!’

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

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

‘no way. when??’

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

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

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

‘WHAT?!?!?!’

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

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

“Wow,” your best friend said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not the point!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will do. I miss you more.”

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

“What was that all about?” she said.

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

“I love you?” she said.

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

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

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

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

“Yup, I know the plan,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re Y/N?” he said.

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

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

“I wasn’t that crazy,” Tabito said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can stop talking now,” Tabito said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry about him,” a stocky boy with huge, panicked eyes said, taking the chair beside where Aryu was still muttering to himself about a ‘grand love affair’ that would ‘shock the world with its glam potential.’ “You’re the girl from the edits, aren’t you? Y/N L/N? I’m Tokimitsu.”

“How do you know her full, official, government name?” Tabito said, arching his eyebrows. Tokimitsu shook his head so rapidly you thought his neck might snap or something from the speed of it.

“No, no, it’s not like that, Karasu! She’s just famous at the moment!” he said.

Tabito’s eyes flicked towards you for confirmation. You rubbed the back of your neck, beginning to explain for the benefit of the entire table.

“Right when Nagi scored, the three of us — my best friend, Chigiri, and I — were the only ones cheering, so the cameras focused on us,” you said. “After that, they would periodically show us throughout the match, and people have been making edits of those clips. At first, we were just the unnamed Blue Lock fans, but I think I liked one too many comments calling me hot, because now everyone knows who we all are…”

“Some of the edits are really good,” Tokimitsu agreed. “They’re all over my dashboard. People have even started shipping you guys with the players! Right now, the most popular pairings are you with Karasu—”

“Good,” Tabito said, sticking his nose in the air. You pinched him on the bicep, finding his uncharacteristic possessiveness as endearing as it was unnecessary.

“—and your best friend with Otoya,” Tokimitsu continued.

“Huh?” Otoya said.

“The clip of her giving you the middle finger right before halftime is super popular,” Tokimitsu said. “People have actually taken screenshots and made matching profile pictures. It’s a whole movement.”

“Huh?” Otoya said. “How am I supposed to flirt with girls if everyone thinks I’m taken by some psycho who hates me for no reason? Where can I file a complaint? This needs to be stopped at once!”

“It’s not for no reason, exactly,” you said.

“There’s a legitimate explanation?” Tabito said.

“Legitimate is a stretch, but there is an explanation,” you said. “You know her. She wouldn’t hate someone without having at least some kind of logic to it.”

A shiny black limousine pulled up in front of the cafe, and the back doors opened to reveal Reo Mikage, who stepped out and thanked the driver before walking over to join the rest of you. You were about to tell him to take the seat in between Tabito and your best friend, but then you realized that there was a massive problem: somebody was already sitting there. Namely, Otoya, who was busily swiping through his phone and reporting every account that he came across which had either him or your best friend as a profile picture.

“My apologies for the tardiness,” Reo said. His mere voice had a particular cadence to it that spoke to his wealth and upbringing, and down to the slightest, his mannerisms were genteel and refined. “I had to sneak out from a meeting to come here.”

“Sneaking out from a meeting to come to another meeting? You’re a busy guy, Reo!” Aryu said, evidently completely over his earlier heartbreak. “What a glam schedule.”

“That’s not the word I’d use for it,” Reo said, running a hand through his hair, which fell loosely around his face now that he wasn’t playing soccer. “Anyways, I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting for too long.”

“No, we haven’t gotten started yet,” Tabito said.

“We’ve been discussing the edits people made of Y/N and her friends!” Tokimitsu said. Reo looked over at you and smiled politely.

“I’ve seen a few of them. It’s an impressive marketing strategy on the JFU’s part — by sprinkling in clips of you three, they managed to appeal to a broader audience. Now, people who ordinarily never would have watched the game are watching reruns, therefore increasing their revenue tenfold,” he said, offering you his hand to shake. “I’m Reo Mikage.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said, taking it as professionally as you could, all the while wondering what was holding your best friend up. She ought to be here as soon as possible, or else she really might lose her chance.

Like she had read your mind, the glass door of the cafe swung open, and your best friend strolled out, two plastic cups balanced in one hand and two scones in a napkin held in the other.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said, thankfully oblivious to the members of the meeting you were crashing. “The barista got confused and made my drink iced. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, but she insisted on dumping it and remaking it properly, free of charge. Apparently, she’s new or something, so she’s still in that phase where she isn’t entirely jaded by the public yet.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Tabito. Grab my drink before she—!”

“You!” your best friend said, pointing at Otoya, who groaned in defeat and buried his face in his hands. Your drink slipped from her hands and clattered to the ground, spilling out onto the concrete, though she took no notice of it, putting the rest of the goods on the table and glaring at Otoya.

“My drink,” you said mournfully.

“I’ll go get you a new one,” Tabito said, making like he was going to stand. You grabbed onto his arm and shook your head.

“No, don’t leave me here,” you said.

“What? Why not?” he said. You pointed at the infamous duo, both of whom looked about ready to blow up, and then you looped your arms around his neck, peeking over his shoulder at the pair.

“If they get in a fight, I’ll be stuck in the crossfire,” you said. “You have to stay here and defend me if it comes to that. Quick, take the scones while she’s distracted. I’m going to eat them as payback for her dropping my drink.”

He did as you commanded. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“You owe me ten dollars!” your best friend said.

“What? No, I don’t. We’ve never even met, so why would I owe you any money at all?” Otoya said. “Wait. We haven’t met, right? Or did we go on a date at some point? If so, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, but you have to understand that things just end up like that sometimes. I’m not going to compensate you for that.”

“Jeez, Otoya,” Yukimiya said with a chuckle. “You’re kind of horrible, man. How many dates have you been on, if you don’t even remember whether you were with her at some point?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” Otoya said. Yukimiya made a face.

“You were definitely on a date,” your best friend said. “I wasn’t, though. In fact, I was just innocently trying to watch a movie with my cousins, when somebody decided that they would just go ahead and make out with their date, right in front of my face, for the entire one hour and forty-seven minutes of the film!”

“Who’s somebody?” Tokimitsu whispered.

“Probably Otoya,” Aryu whispered back.

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

“Okay, guys, how about we all relax and get to the point of this meeting instead of squabbling over past grievances?” Reo interrupted before the argument could grow anymore heated. Satisfied that things were now under control, you ceased your cowering behind Tabito, though you did make sure to shove the last of the scones in your mouth before your best friend could ask where they had disappeared to.

“Fine by me,” Otoya said when your best friend did not respond. “Yo, you gonna sit down or what?”

“You guys can have your meeting without us, since I’m quite sure it’s not anything that we’ll be able to meaningfully contribute to. In the meantime, she and I will go and get a replacement drink for me,” you said.

As soon as the two of you were inside and out of earshot of the boys, she let out a wail. “I completely made an awful first impression on Reo Mikage!”

“I can’t lie, you definitely did,” you said. “But at least it was entertaining for the rest of us. Cheer up! There’s still Barou, Nagi, and Isagi, right? You have an entire list for a reason. Reo might be a wash, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up entirely.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. If only that lettuce-headed Otoya weren’t here! Things would’ve gone perfectly, but ruining my life must be a particular hobby of his,” she said.

“You might be better off if you pretend he’s not around,” you said. “How about this? We’ll get Tabito to set you up on a date with one of the others on your roster, and I’ll personally ensure that Otoya stays far, far away.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Here, I’ll pay for your drink, since I spilled it the first time.”

“Yeah, I was going to make you do that even if you didn’t offer.”

Upon your return outside, drinks and additional scones in hand, you were met with a larger group than you had left. Even more of the Blue Lock boys had appeared, and all of them were talking animatedly with one another.

“You’re Hyoma!” you said, taking a sip from your still-hot beverage, waving at your new friend’s little brother. “I sat with your sister at the game.”

“She’s mentioned you a couple of times. Said you thought I did well in the game,” Chigiri said, scratching the bridge of his nose shyly. “I really appreciate it. You’re Karasu’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes! Thank you for knowing that!” Tabito said, snatching your drink from you and taking a swig, bursting into a coughing fit as it scalded his throat.

“That’s what you get,” you said, taking your drink back, blowing on it to cool it before taking the tiniest sip. “Alright, I know Isagi and Chigiri, but who’s the third one?”

“That’s Bachira,” Tabito said. “He’s a fascinating guy.”

“You know what we should do? Since all of us are together for the first time outside of Blue Lock, we should hang out!” Bachira said, rocking on his heels.

“That’s good with me. Our meeting ended up not being that productive,” Yukimiya said.

“Mostly due to certain individuals,” Reo agreed, looking pointedly at Otoya.

“Me? Blame her!” Otoya said, pointing at your best friend, who was busy exchanging hair care tips with Aryu instead of putting the moves on Isagi, as you thought she might’ve.

“Reo’s too much of a glam gentleman to blame a lady for anything,” Aryu said.

“What he said,” Reo agreed. “Though, again, I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“Where should we go?” Tokimitsu said. “I’m okay with anything.”

“Wait, what about Nagi? Isn’t he with you guys?” Reo said to Isagi, who hummed.

“He was supposed to meet up with us, but he overslept, and then he saw an arcade on the way, so he stopped in there,” Isagi said.

“Reo, I bet you have Nagi’s location on your phone at all times, right?” Bachira said. Reo nodded. “Then I say we use that to go and find him!”

“An arcade day does sound like a blast,” Yukimiya said.

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to stay back and spend the day with Y/N,” Tabito said.

“She can come, too!” Bachira said. “On one condition: she has to be my partner for rhyming ping-pong.”

“That’s a fair deal in my books,” you said. Ordinarily, you would have agreed with Tabito — a calm date with him was far more appealing than the prospect of going to an arcade with a bunch of soccer players — but above all else, you were a loyal friend, and you could hardly abandon your best friend when Reo, Nagi, and Isagi would all be present at this gathering.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to feel bad for me. I don’t mind missing out on hanging with these idiots. I see enough of them in Blue Lock as it is,” Tabito said.

“I’m offended,” Otoya said dryly. “What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Considering she’s his girlfriend and he’s liked her for going on six years now, I’d say she’s probably a bit more than a ‘hoe,’” Yukimiya said.

“I don’t feel bad for you, Tabito, so you can put that out of your mind. I haven’t gone to an arcade or played rhyming ping-pong in ages. It’ll be fun, I think,” you said, kicking him under the table and angling your chin towards Reo and Isagi ever-so-slightly. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization.

“Then I guess we’re off to the arcade,” he said. “Lead the way, Reo.”

“Follow me,” Reo said, holding up his phone, which displayed the elusive Nagi’s location on the screen.

You all must’ve appeared an odd group to any onlookers, but that didn’t stop any of you from enjoying yourselves as you weaved through the streets of Shibuya. You walked with Tabito, your hand intertwined with his like usual, both of you pointing out window displays you found appealing or ridiculous. Chigiri and Bachira hotly debated which arcade games were the best, Isagi doing his best to mediate while Otoya egged both of them on in turn. Reo and Yukimiya continued their discussion on the economics of Blue Lock from the earlier meeting, and Aryu described every single step he took in the shower to your best friend and Tokimitsu, both of whom were enthralled by the topic. All in all, it was a blend which should not have worked but somehow did, and more than simply working, it really excelled.

“There you are, pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” Tabito cackled as everyone entered the arcade and saw Nagi sitting at one of the booths, controls in his hands and a small frown on his face as he gunned down his virtual enemies. Letting go of you, Tabito wrestled Nagi into a headlock, messing with his hair as Nagi whined in protest. “You’re going to lose all of your friends, you jerk!”

“Caught red-handed,” Reo said with a sigh. “Classic Nagi.”

“Now that we’ve found him, it’s time to party!” Bachira said, pumping his fist in the air. “Tokimitsu, let’s go play darts!”

“Okay!” Tokimitsu said.

“I’m heading over to the claw machine,” your best friend said. “Wanna come, Y/N?”

“Sure, I’ll cheer you on,” you said. “I’m pretty bad at it myself, so I won’t waste my money on my own attempts.”

Everyone dispersed throughout the arcade. Tabito, Otoya, and Aryu followed you and your best friend towards the claw machine, much to your best friend’s disgust — you were certain that she had been hoping Isagi, Nagi, or Reo would come with you, but all three of them were preoccupied with the darts competition Bachira had set up, leaving her to side-eye Otoya and stick to conversing only with Aryu. For his part, Aryu was happy to oblige her, as sticking close to your best friend had the double effect of cooling Tabito’s ire from earlier as well as alleviating the hostility between her and Otoya.

“This has got to be rigged!” your best friend said when her third attempt at trying to nab a panda plushie proved unsuccessful. On each attempt, right before she was able to drop the plushie into the chute, the claw would give out and it would fall back into the pile, leaving her out of money and patience.

“Move out of the way,” Otoya said. “Let me show you how the masters get it done.”

“You call yourself a claw-machine master?” you said. “What, do you practice or something?”

Otoya entered a token into the machine and shouldered past your fuming best friend, grabbing the controls with casual ease. “Girls love it when you win stuffed animals for them. Check out my flow!”

“I never put you down as someone with this type of functional glam,” Aryu said, pressing his face against the glass of the machine. “I sincerely repent for the underestimation!”

“You really are a master,” you breathed, doing the same, watching in astonishment as Otoya expertly maneuvered the plushie towards the chute.

“Stop shaking the machine, idiots, you’ll make him mess up,” Tabito said, pulling you and Aryu away from the glass by the back of your collars and holding you there until Otoya had retrieved his prize.

“Bam,” Otoya said, tossing the panda at your best friend. “Ninja skills.”

It hit her in the face and fell to the ground; with a withering glare, she stooped over and tucked it under her arm before stomping away.

“You better not find yourself anywhere near the dartboards! I’m warning you, I have a bad aim, so look out!” she threatened before disappearing, presumably to join in on Bachira’s tournament.

“Isn’t that just a self-insult?” Otoya said. “Sucking at darts is even worse than sucking at the claw machine, don’t you think?”

“She means she’ll hit you with the dart and you can’t blame her for it because she warned you, you dunce,” Tabito said, face-palming. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go see how the tournament’s going.”

The tournament seemed to have split into two sections. On the right side, Reo, Tokimitsu, Yukimiya, and your best friend were tossing darts at the board with precision and care, tallying up their scores and congratulating one another after each round. On the left, Nagi was standing in front of the board with his arms spread and his back to Bachira, Isagi, and Chigiri, who were gleefully taking turns throwing darts in his direction, talking about how this was his ‘punishment’ for standing them up.

“Who’s winning?” you said, right as Bachira sent a dart shooting towards the back of Nagi’s head. Nagi exhaled heavily.

“Sorry,” he repeated for the thousandth time.

“Do you think it’s even possible for someone to win in a game like that?” Tabito said. “Better to ask those guys.”

“I think Yuki is up right now,” Reo said in response to your unasked question. “Although Tokimitsu’s catching up. It’s super close. Could be anyone’s game.”

“Now that you’re here, Y/N, let’s go play rhyming ping-pong!” Bachira said.

“Who will we play against, though?” you said.

“Nagi, for one,” Bachira said.

“I don’t want to,” Nagi said. Bachira raised another dart, causing Nagi’s sleepy frown to deepen. “Okay, I will.”

“Then Tabito can be your teammate,” you said.

“You’re challenging me?” Tabito said. “You’re going to regret that. Prepare to lose.”

“Bachira and I won’t let you get even a point, right, Bachira?” you said.

“That’s right!” Bachira said, high-fiving you and charging forwards as the entire group headed over to the ping-pong table. Picking out four paddles from the rack, he handed one each to you, Tabito, and Nagi, keeping the last for himself and joining you on your side of the table.

“If we beat you, then you have to take me to the aquarium for our next date!” you said, brandishing your paddle at Tabito.

“Fine, but if we beat you, then you have to join me during my workouts for the rest of the break!” he said, tossing the ball up and down in the air.

“We have to crush them,” you said to Bachira. “If I have to workout with him, I’ll probably die.”

“Got it,” Bachira said, rolling his shoulders. “Ready when you are.”

“Nagi, get your head in the game,” Tabito said to his reluctant partner. “We need to win this. The aquarium is so creepy and unromantic! What kind of first date back from Blue Lock would that be? I need your talents, prodigy.”

“Okay,” Nagi said. “Are we starting?”

“Yeah, you can serve. Do you know how to play?” Tabito said.

“Not really,” he said.

“Whenever you hit the ball, you have to say a word that the other team can rhyme to, and when they return the serve, they have to come up with that rhyme and say it,” Bachira said. “Pretty easy, right?”

“It’ll be a simple win,” you said. “I’m first in the class for Modern Literature, so I know a lot of words.”

“Don’t underestimate Nagi,” Reo said. “He may look like little more than a typical idiot slacker, but he actually came second in our year without studying at all.”

“I’m so torn,” your best friend said. “Who do I root for?”

“Why’s it a question? Wouldn’t you want to root for your best friend?” Chigiri said.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she said.

“Hmph,” Chigiri said. “Whatever.”

“Okay, are both sides ready?” Yukimiya said. He had been chosen to referee, mostly because he was the most impartial. All of you nodded, and he whistled. “Rhyming ping-pong, begin! Your serve, Nagi!”

“Um,” Nagi said, tossing the ball in the air and tapping it with his paddle. “Orange?”

Yukimiya whistled again. “Out! Y/N and Bachira are the winners!”

“What was that?” Tabito screeched.

“He must’ve gotten nervous in the face of Bachira and I’s combined prowess,” you said, tossing your hair.

“Not really. I just didn’t wanna play,” Nagi said. “There’s some good aquariums in Tokyo, Karasu. You can probably have a fun date there.”

“You’re the worst,” Tabito said. “I’m taking Chigiri next time. I bet he wouldn’t have picked orange as his first word!”

“I would’ve gone with bat,” Chigiri said.

“Ooh, and then I would’ve said cat!” you said. Bachira had vanished alongside Isagi and Reo, giving some excuse about karaoke before running out the door after them, leaving you standing alone across from the furious Tabito and lethargic Nagi.

“Maybe we should’ve teamed up,” Chigiri said to you. You winked and gave him a thumbs-up in assent.

“Can we go see what Reo and the others are doing?” Nagi said, limp in another one of Tabito’s headlocks, completely unbothered by the vulnerable position that he was being held in.

“Bachira said they were going for karaoke,” you said. “Maybe we should find Otoya and Aryu before joining them, though.”

“How about just Aryu?” your best friend suggested, though her ideas went unheard.

“I’ll text them,” Yukimiya said.

“No need,” Otoya said, peeking his head into the door. “We’ve been looking for you guys for a while.”

“Such unglam conduct, disappearing like that,” Aryu said in disappointment.

“Sorry!” Tokimitsu yelped.

“Since we’re all here now, we should be good to head to karaoke,” Yukimiya said.

“Karasu and I are going to do a duet,” Otoya informed everyone as you all followed the signs for the karaoke section of the building.

“Hell yeah,” Tabito snickered. “We’ll knock everyone’s socks off. They’re not ready.”

“What song?” Tokimitsu said.

“Something with a lot of belting,” Otoya said.

“Please don’t,” your best friend said. “I didn’t bring ear plugs, and I do value my hearing.”

“Wait a second,” you said. “Hey, Tabito, Yukimiya — isn’t that Aiku from the U-20 squad?”

“Huh?” Tabito said.

“It is!” Yukimiya said. “He’s talking to Reo, Isagi, and Bachira, too. That’s unexpected.”

“Looks like the whole gang’s here, in fact,” Tabito said, cracking his knuckles and motioning towards the rest of the U-20 squad, who were glowering at the boys beside you as they approached.

“A fight?” Nagi said.

“Could be,” Otoya said, striking a ninja-pose that caused your best friend to dissolve into a fit of laughter, which he ignored completely. “I’m stoked.”

“Need backup, Isagi?” Yukimiya said, his hands in his pockets and a genial smile on his face. “We’ve got you.”

“Ah, but don’t expect anything from me!” you said, flashing them all a peace sign. “I’ll cheer for you from the corner, though.”

“A girl? Hello—” Aiku began, though he was immediately interrupted by Tabito.

“Nope, don’t even think about it,” he said.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aiku said.

“What are you all doing here?” one of the U-20 boys, whose name you couldn’t recall, said.

“Likely the same thing as you,” Chigiri said.

“But in a more glam way, naturally,” Aryu added.

“The fuck? Don’t think I won’t mess you up, freak!” the U-20 player said.

“Freak?” Aryu said. “Say that again, I dare you!”

“How about we settle this over a game of bowling?” Aiku suggested. “That way, none of us get in trouble with our coaches for accidentally injuring ourselves.”

“Fine by us,” Yukimiya said. “We’ll beat you either way.”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to watch you all pummel each other,” you agreed.

“Same,” your best friend said. “Though I wouldn’t mind too much if you roughed Otoya up a bit…”

“Hey!” the boy in question said.

“The ladies have spoken,” Aiku said. “Bowling it is!”

“Are you going to play?” Tabito asked you as you all trekked towards the bowling alley.

“Nah, this is a feud between Blue Lock and the U-20 players. I’m just an onlooker,” you said.

“Aw, but you’re the bowling champion! We’d win for sure if we had you on our side,” he said. Going bowling had been a common event for both of your friend groups all throughout high school, so he had been privy to many a round in which you absolutely annihilated everyone else, demolishing him and his friends and yours alike with a careful, needle-like precision.

“You’re not half-bad yourself. Plus, who knows how good the others are? It’ll be alright. Go beat those U-20 boys again, and then let’s get out of here,” you said.

“Just us? Or do you mean everyone?” he said.

“Just us,” you said. “I’ve been downright helpful all day, so no one can begrudge me for being a little bit selfish and sneaking off with you. I’ll only do it if you win, though.”

That was a lie, but Tabito was the type who performed better under pressure. The thought that he might miss out on a date with you — especially one not at the aquarium — would be more than enough to drive him to bowling success.

“Y/N!” your best friend hissed to you as Tabito and the others went to check in at the counter. “Check it out! It’s Shoei Barou!”

“He’s bowling all by himself? Huh, that’s a little startling. The more you know, I guess,” you said. Privately, you had believed the intimidating Barou would have had similarly intimidating habits, like powerlifting, or beating up thugs in alleyways, or activities more along those lines, but of course, everyone had layers, so maybe you shouldn’t have assumed.

“It’s kind of cute, if I’m being honest,” she said. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re a friendless loner! I need you so badly.”

“There’s a lid for every pot,” you said, not at all seeing the appeal in that kind of person but having decided long ago that you were more glad than anything that you and she didn’t have the same taste in men — you had likely avoided many awkward situations in that way. “Well, what’s your plan? You’ve got Reo, Barou, Nagi, and Isagi all in one room. Who’re you going to go for?”

“Let’s weigh the pros and cons. That should help us come to a proper conclusion,” she said.

“Got it. Cons: Reo finds you super immature for fighting with Otoya, Nagi doesn’t seem to care about you one way or another, Isagi is much more interested in hanging out with Bachira and Chigiri than trying to talk to you, and you haven’t even met Barou yet,” you said. She gulped.

“And, uh, the pros?” she said. You frowned.

“Uh…at least Nagi’s opinion of you isn’t bad?” you said. “And you haven’t had the chance to make a terrible impression on Barou yet.”

“That’s it?” she said.

“Sorry,” you said. “But kind of. It’s not looking good.”

“What do I do, then?” she said. “Is it time for me to give up on my dreams? Am I destined to be single forever? Will the closest I get to a wedding be in the form of attending yours as a bridesmaid?”

“Don’t be pessimistic,” you said. “There’s always Aiku. He seems like he’d take anything on legs for a date or two.”

In unison, you glanced over at Aiku. He, and Otoya for that matter, were talking to a pair of girls, who were hooked on their every word, irises sparkling as they listened to both boys flirt. You and your best friend exchanged looks.

“I’d rather die alone,” she said.

“That kind of relationship wouldn’t last,” you affirmed. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask Tabito if he can introduce you to Barou. He’s likely your best bet at this point.”

“You might be right about that,” she said, following after you as you made your way towards where the ones not actively bowling were hanging out.

This, unfortunately, was a fatal mistake. The route took you past Otoya and Aiku, and, more importantly, the girls they were chatting with. One of them happened to catch a glimpse of you both, and she immediately gasped, shoving past Otoya to tap the two of you on our shoulders.

“You’re the girls from the edits!” she said. You winced at the murderous expressions on Aiku’s and Otoya’s faces.

“Yeah, we are,” you said.

“No way!” the other girl said to your best friend. “You and your boyfriend are my sister and her boyfriend’s profile pictures!”

“Boyfriend?” your best friend said. “I’m single, though?”

“The guy you gave the middle finger to at the Blue Lock vs U-20 match! Aren’t you two dating?” she said.

“No!” your best friend and Otoya said at the same time.

“Wait, I didn’t recognize you because of the hat, but you’re the confused player that she flipped off!” the girl said to Otoya. “Can we get a picture of the two of you together? We’re guaranteed to go viral if we can post something like that!”

“Oh, boy,” you said. “Aiku, you seem like a nice guy, so I’m going to advise you to run right about now.”

“What?” he said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” you said, darting off before you were caught up in the fallout that would accompany the request, not slowing your pace until you were safely over by Tabito and the rest, far away from the brewing situation.

“I think we’re going to do it!” Tabito said when he saw that you were once again at his side. “As long as Nagi is more motivated to bowl than he was to play rhyming ping-pong.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, that’s great,” you said. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” he said.

“Right now,” you said.

“Did something happen?” he said.

“This bowling alley is about to turn into a war zone,” you said, gesturing over to where Otoya and your best friend were standing stiffly beside one another, the girl angling her phone to take as many photos of them as possible.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “See you guys later!”

“What? You’re already leaving?” Chigiri said.

“Yup, it was great to meet you all! Good luck in Blue Lock. Hope to see you again!” you said, sprinting towards the doors with Tabito, ducking out right as your best friend went off on a tirade about how Otoya needed to stay a ‘minimum of two bodies’ away from her at all times lest he ‘infect her with the green hair disease.’ “Phew.”

“We made it,” Tabito said. “Now what?”

“Now we do whatever we want,” you said, reaching up and kissing him softly. “No more worrying about everyone else. Let’s do something for just the two of us.”

“Finally,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you left the arcade behind. “I’ve been missing you for so long, and when I finally got you back, I had to share you with all of my dumbass teammates. Not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It’s like Otoya said — bros before hoes.”

“Otoya’s a jackass,” he said.

“True,” you said. “But enough about him. I want to hear about everything you did in Blue Lock, so that when you have to go back, I can imagine what you might be up to at any given moment and feel a little better.”

“Gross,” he said.

“You act as though you hate it, but I knew deep down you like it,” you said. He wrinkled his nose, though it did little to hide his prominent blush.

“Nah,” he said, drawing you impossibly closer to his side, as much to be affectionate as to prevent you from further exposure to the redness of his face. “I just like you.”

“Oh?” you said. “That’s good, because I like you, too.”

“I already knew that,” he said.

“Never mind,” you said. “If that’s the case, then I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. You smiled, playing with his fingers as the two of you walked around the city with no destination in mind, no end goal but to enjoy each other’s company.

“No, I don’t.”

#karasu x reader #karasu x y/n #karasu x you #karasu tabito #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #established relationship #reader insert #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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tinytinyblogs · 1 month ago

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You Don't Need Anyone Else But Me

They wouldn't allow you to think of them as just a friend or let anyone else have you.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬 First story post of 2025—hoping it’s good enough!

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Han was always effortlessly charming, the kind of person you couldn’t help but trust. When you began telling him about the person you were texting, he seemed genuinely interested. His questions were casual, his demeanor lighthearted, and his laughter infectious. You felt comfortable sharing everything—it was natural, especially since you were so close. But behind that warm smile and playful laugh, Han’s mind was racing. He hid his panic well, nodding along to your stories while plotting. The more he learned about this person, the more determined he became. Han pretended to care, to empathize, but it was all part of his calculated act. Once he had the information he needed, Han sprang into action. He processed everything meticulously, replaying each detail until he knew how to dismantle your connection with this person. What you didn’t realize was that Han already knew far more about you than you’d ever imagined. Long before you confided in him, he’d been quietly observing you, tracking your habits, your preferences, your vulnerabilities. Stalking wasn’t new to Han.

It was a skill he’d perfected, something he was patient with. He ensured that every step he took went unnoticed. Now, with this person as his target, he worked to disrupt every plan, every meeting between you two. He’d make sure nothing went according to plan. Maybe their car would break down. Maybe they’d suddenly fall ill. Or maybe something urgent would pull them away. Han’s methods were subtle, nearly invisible, but the outcomes were undeniable. Every time something went wrong, he’d be there, appearing just in time, like a knight in shining armor. As time went on, you relied on him more, drawn to his comforting presence, to the way he always seemed to appear when you needed him. “How do you always know when I need you?” you’d ask, half-joking, and he’d laugh it off. “I’m just lucky, I guess,” he’d say, his tone casual, making it seem innocent. But Han wasn’t just lucky. He orchestrated everything. He ensured that you saw him as your hero, and in reality, he was a monster hiding behind a charming mask. He didn’t care what it took to win you over, as long as the end result was you by his side. One evening, after another disrupted plan with that person, Han made his move. You were sitting together, the tension in the air palpable. He turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Can we try to be... more than friends?” he asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. “I don’t like the idea of losing you.” You hesitated, caught off guard by his confession. His sincerity, his raw emotion, made it difficult to question him. It felt like something out of a drama—an emotional whirlwind you couldn’t process. What you didn’t know was that Han had planned this moment long before it happened. Every word, every look, every gesture was part of the story he was crafting for you. To him, your life wasn’t yours—it was a play, and he was both the director and the star. Step by step, he guided you along the path he’d designed, ensuring you followed without realizing it. Every coincidence, every twist of fate, was his doing. He played the role of the supportive friend so well that you never suspected him. To you, Han was your confidant, your rock, the one person who was always there when you needed him. But to Han, you were so much more. You were his world, his obsession, and he’d stop at nothing to keep you by his side. As you smiled at him, unknowingly stepping deeper into his web, Han’s heart swelled with satisfaction. This was exactly how he wanted it—how it was always meant to be.

Felix

Betrayed. That was the only word running through Felix’s mind when he discovered you had been meeting someone else. It felt like a knife to the heart to realize that, despite everything he had done for you, all the time you had spent together, you only saw him as a friend. The realization left him feeling crushed, but Felix wasn’t the type to let his pain show—not at first, at least. He tried to hide his turmoil behind his usual sunny demeanor. With his bright smile, he casually asked why you felt the need to meet someone else when he was always there for you. “What’s so special about them?” he joked, though there was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t quite place. But when you gave him the same answer again and again, that you only saw him as a friend, something inside him began to change. You didn’t realize it at the time, but you were pushing him too far. Slowly, the cheerful Felix you thought you knew began to slip away. The radiant warmth he always exuded started to darken. His smile became forced, and his eyes seemed to lose their light. Then one day, without warning, the mask he wore so well crumbled.

His hand shot out, gripping yours firmly—too firmly. It wasn’t playful or gentle like before; it hurt just enough to make you flinch. His grip was like steel, unrelenting. His voice, usually so soft and soothing, came out sharp and biting. “How dare you,” he said, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I do everything for you,” he continued, his voice filled with frustration, “everything to make you happy, to see you smile. And yet, you still choose someone else? You think I’ll just let you go like that?” Before you could respond, Felix moved swiftly, shoving you against the nearest wall. The impact wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to make your heart race. His presence loomed over you, suffocating and overwhelming. This wasn’t the Felix you thought you knew—the sweet, carefree boy who made you laugh and feel safe. This was someone entirely different, someone whose obsession was beginning to consume him. His voice dropped even lower, each word deliberate and chilling. “Let me make one thing clear,” he said, leaning in close, his breath warm against your skin. “We’re more than just friends. I won’t let you walk away from me and into someone else’s arms.”

Your voice caught in your throat, unable to form a reply. The intensity in his eyes and the darkness in his words left you frozen. He studied your face, as though memorizing every detail, before speaking again in a softer, almost pleading tone. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret. Because I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you with me.” For the first time, you saw a side of Felix you never imagined—a side that was possessive and obsessive, willing to cross any line to keep you by his side. The sweet boy who had once made you feel so special now felt like a stranger, someone you weren’t sure you wanted to know. Felix stepped back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, though the tension in the air was suffocating. His expression softened ever so slightly, but the fire in his eyes didn’t waver. “Think about it,” he said, his tone quieter but no less intense. “Why would you need anyone else when you have me?” The room fell into an eerie silence as his words lingered, heavy and unshakable. Deep down, you knew Felix wasn’t bluffing. He was no longer just a friend, and you weren’t sure if you could escape the path he had decided for the both of you.

Seungmin

“Where do you think you’re going?” Seungmin’s voice was calm yet sharp as he stood in front of the door, blocking your path. His figure loomed, his usual gentle demeanor replaced by something unreadable. You froze, your hand still on the doorknob. “I’m just going out,” you said lightly, brushing off the tension. “I’m meeting someone, Min—” Seungmin stepped closer, cutting you off mid-sentence. His eyes flicked to the necklace around your neck—the one he had given you. His lips curled into a humorless smile. “You’re going to meet someone who makes you smile like that? And you’re wearing the necklace I gave you?” His tone was deceptively casual, but there was an edge beneath it that sent a shiver down your spine. You instinctively stepped back, suddenly aware of how different he seemed. This wasn’t the Seungmin you knew—the one who always teased you playfully. This version was colder, his presence heavier, suffocating. “You said it looked pretty on me,” you said hesitantly, trying to defuse the moment. Seungmin let out a low laugh, the sound devoid of warmth. He mirrored your step back, closing the distance. Reaching out, he pushed the door shut behind you. The sound of the lock clicking made your heart race.

“I did say that,” he replied, his tone dark and steady. “But don’t think for a second that I bought it for you to wear on a date with someone else.” His words hung in the air, heavy and charged. Your mind scrambled for something to say, but before you could speak, he took another step forward, his presence consuming every inch of space between you. “Seungmin…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head, his gaze piercing and unyielding. “Do you have any idea how much I like you? How much I think about you? And yet, here you are, acting like we’re just friends. Like you can just walk out that door and be with someone else.” His hand reached out, gently but firmly grabbing your chin. He tilted your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. They burned with intensity, a mixture of frustration and longing. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, every word hitting you like a weight. “You should’ve figured that out by now.” Your breath hitched as his grip tightened ever so slightly, enough to make you feel his control. “Min, we’re—” “No,” he interrupted sharply. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say we’re just friends.”

His gaze softened momentarily, but the intensity of his words was unrelenting. “I don’t want to hear it. Because I’m not giving you a choice.” His words sent a chill down your spine. The Seungmin you thought you knew—the kind-hearted friend—was nowhere to be found. Instead, this version of him stood before you, unrelenting and terrifyingly sure of himself. “You’re not going anywhere,” he continued, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gesture that might have been tender if it weren’t for the context. “Not to them, not to anyone else. You belong here—with me.” His hand dropped, but the tension in the air remained, so thick it was hard to breathe. He stepped back just enough to give you space, but his presence still loomed large. “You should know by now,” he said, his voice softening, though his words carried the same weight. “I’m not going to let you go. So stop trying.” The room was silent except for the sound of your unsteady breathing. You could see it in his eyes—Seungmin wasn’t bluffing. Whatever version of him you thought you knew was gone, replaced by someone who had no intention of letting you slip away.

Jeongin

As Jeongin watched the man stumble away, his steps unsteady and his face pale with fear, a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. The confrontation had been brief but effective, leaving no room for doubt about Jeongin’s intentions. With a quick glance down, he noticed a small streak of blood staining his knuckles. It wasn’t his. He wiped it off casually, as though it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience, before pulling his phone from his pocket. His thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling through his contacts until it landed on your name. "Friend," the label read. He scoffed, the word feeling like an insult. His grip tightened on the device as he stared at it, his thoughts spiraling. "What should I do to you?" he muttered under his breath, his voice low and tinged with frustration. The mere thought of you calling him just a friend after everything he’d done for you was infuriating. Did you truly not see it? Or were you just pretending, clinging to the safety of that label while unknowingly fueling the fire inside him? Jeongin let out a bitter laugh, shoving the phone back into his pocket. "Friend," he repeated to himself, the word dripping with disdain.

"After all this time, sticking by your side, thinking we’re just friends? How foolish of you." He began walking, his pace steady as he headed down the dimly lit street. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain. The path was familiar—it always led to the same place: your place. He had walked this route countless times, each step bringing him closer to you, to the one person he had claimed in his mind long ago. His hands slipped into his pockets as he hummed a soft melody, the tune oddly cheerful for someone who had just chased off a rival. His mind, however, was anything but calm. Thoughts of you consumed him, intertwining with the lingering adrenaline from his earlier encounter. "Friendship isn’t in my dictionary," he muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile that was a little too wide. The streetlights illuminated his face as he looked up at the starry sky, the expression on his face one of twisted satisfaction. He thought of the man who had dared to text you, dared to think he had a place in your life. That man wouldn’t be bothering you anymore—that much was certain. Jeongin had seen to it personally.

"You won’t be hearing from him again," he said to himself, the words carrying a quiet finality. He chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the empty street. "In the end, the only person you’re going to see is me." As he approached your building, his steps slowed, his mind already crafting the narrative he would present to you. He didn’t need to rush; after all, he had all the time in the world to make you see things his way. Standing in front of your door, Jeongin took a deep breath, schooling his expression into one of boyish charm—the one that always made you laugh, always made you let your guard down. But beneath that smile lay something far more dangerous. To him, this wasn’t just about affection—it was about possession. You were his, whether you realized it yet or not. And Jeongin wasn’t the type to let go. As he raised his hand to knock, his heart pounded with anticipation. He could already picture it: your surprised face when you opened the door, your soft voice greeting him, unaware of the lengths he had gone to ensure you’d stay by his side. "In the end," he whispered to himself, his grin widening, "this story only ends one way—with you and me."

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thewritersofdeceased · 8 months ago

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Ghost boys reacting to their crush being asked out in front of them? Like would they be salty or lash out. Idk I just think it's a fun idea ^^

ANGST WOOOOO !! (angst for at least two of them) The Ghost Boys + Finney seeing their crush being asked out in front of them! These are sorta short because I had no motivation to get these out for months ":)

Gender Neutral pronouns ! (They/Them), no use of y/n!

FINNEY BLAKE

Finney felt his heart shatter as a boy stood with flowers in hand, a small frown plastered on his face as you and this boy stood in front of your locker. You two were smiling. You were smiling at this boy and not at him? He thought you two would have been together. Guess not. Finney didn't say anything, just acted like he was grabbing stuff out of his locker. But those eight words he overheard felt like a harpoon had just gone through his chest.

"Do you want to go out with me?" The boy asked, and Finney could hear your soft laughter. That soft laughter that made him fall in love with you. The laughter that made him always smile. But he couldn't say anything now. Not when the person of his dreams was being asked out. He let a frown form on his face, closing his locker and letting out a grumble. A grumble of inaudible mutters. He'd talk to Robin or Gwen about this.

And so when closing his locker and overhearing the answer you'd given the boy, Finney turned to walk off. Ignoring the laughs he could overhear, he began making his way away from his locker and surely away from you. He couldn't stand this. The boy had to move on, but he knew damn well it would take a while to do that.

BRUCE YAMADA

To say Bruce was surprised when he overheard someone asking you out was an understatement. He knew plenty of people, girls mostly, were lined up trying to date him, but for the longest time, he only had his eyes on one person. You. You were the only person Bruce had his eyes on. He wasn't going to go all fancy, buying flowers and everything, but he was going to be all casual about it. As you if you'd like to go to the arcade or something, go for a walk around town and all of that.

But when he went to try, someone else had gone up to you, holding flowers and chocolate in their hands. Bruce didn't understand. Sure, this kid was popular too, but not in the sense Bruce was. He just didn't understand. His mind processed the scene he watched, his expression blank and eyes slightly narrowing. At least he tried.

Even if his heart ached. His chest ached. He had to move on. No matter how hard it hurt, Bruce Yamada had to move on. As people say. There's other fish in the seas. At least in ones far away from Denver.

ROBIN ARELLANO

Robin knew he didn't have a chance. From the get go, he knew he didnt' have a chance. He was popular, and sure, some girls wanted him and what-not, but he denied them every single time. They only wanted him because he could fight. Not for his personality, and surely just for his looks. But he didn't have his eyes on any of them.

Not any of them had his attention. He was watching over you as you spoke with a group of your friends, one of them gently taking your arm and pulling you away from everyone in the main circle. Which only resulted in him following from afar. Listening and watching from a distance. He couldn't exactly make out what was being said, but he could see the large smile that had formed on your face, and the excited "Yes, yes!" That escaped you.

It only made Robin's mind begin to run. Robin wasn't dumb. It only made him realize what the kid had asked. The kid asked you out. And Robin had to get over you. Of course he did. He just had to get over you. It'd be difficult, but he had to. He'd move on quickly. He knew he could.

VANCE HOPPER

When it came to asking people out, Vance hated doing it. Vance despises asking people out, which is why he never did it. He saw what relationships did to his mom and dad. He saw how it ruined them. But you were different. You had a smile that lit up the world, and he loved that about you. But asking you out was something that would ruin everything. Vance was going to ask you out in a casual manner. Sure, he'd buy you a slushee from the grab n' go and make a flirty joke or whatever, but it was better than going full out with flowers, chocolate and a stupid date.

As he went to speak to you, his eyes landed on a boy with his arm wrapped around your waist, so he only stood with violence plastered in his eyes. He wanted to swing. So badly. He wanted to start a fight. To get your attention. But that would hate to scare you. He would never have a chance if he scared you off and away. That would shatter him beyond recognition. But Vance stood tall as he kept his attention on you and this boy.

As the answer of yes popped up, Vance scoffed and turned on his heel, his knuckles turning white. He'd go get into a fight. Fight his anger out like he usually could. He'd avoid you and your new boyfriend. Until you two broke up, or the bastard did something wrong to you. Then he'd fight and confront.

BILLY SHOWALTER

Billy was beyond excited to show you these hand made paper flowers! He was going to use them to confess his feelings, of course. He wasn't one to really talk aloud, being more on the quiet side of the school and sticking to hanging around his group of friends. Not many people spoke to the tiny group but you and a couple others that wanted to try and befriend Robin or Bruce for example. Or Vance- that was another. Vance was more of one to confront or help Billy out if he was having a bad day.

So when he saw a boy smiling brightly at you with flowers in his hand, his heart began to shatter as he listened in. "Would you like to go on a date? We can have a picnic and then get some ice cream?" The boy suggested as an excited "Yes!" escaped you, it made Billy's eyes widen and begin to tear up. He stared in disbelief, his heart shattered into a thousand people.

He stared still, dropping his paper flowers onto the ground and allowing the wind to pick them up. He'd just stay away. Yeah! Yeah, that would work. It'd was better than anything. Better than staying here and letting his emotions get the better of him. That would be better than this. He'd talk to Vance. Or Griffin. Or anyone about this.

GRIFFIN STAGG

Griffin was terrified to ever ask somebody out. Like Vance, he saw what it did to his parents. Hell, he didn’t get to see his mother because of it. That was a whole story in itself. He was pacing nervously, looking at the paper he held in between his hands. Well, in one hand. He had a singular rose in his right hand, in his left behind a small paper with words to say.

Naturally, Griffin was selective mute, only speaking properly to the boys he hung around or you. Mostly you. He would smile, ramble about books he read to you, suggest some too! So, the best suggestion he had was to get a couple romantic lines from books and make references to them in his little confession note!

His eyes had lit up when he saw you. You were waving to someone. Not him. A boy, maybe a year older than him had run over, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as Griffin watched. He stared as tears began to flood his eyes. He had to walk by you to go home. So he did just that. Not before pressing the paper and flower into your hand.

#vance hopper x reader #the black phone x reader #bruce yamada x reader #griffin stagg #billy showalter x reader #finney blake x reader #robin arellano x reader #billy showalter

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jaegeraether · 9 days ago

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Unknown Territory (Alexia and Ridley)

(*5k*)

Masterlist (other parts here)

RIDLEY POV

Ridley was in unknown territory. Never before had she needed to communicate her personal decisions, especially knowing that Alexia wouldn’t exactly be happy with what had happened.

She wasn’t meant to have been on the front line, directly in the line of fire. Unfortunately though, it had happened. She knew Alexia had been stressed lately with the two of them being apart for over a month, along with her being hard on herself for missing a penalty in the Olympics and subsequently pushing herself five times harder following it. Ridley had wished she could have come home for it, but she’d been far too deep into an operation. Only at this moment did she finally have a spare second to worry about something other than trying to keep her and her team alive.

Not wanting to give her anymore stress, and almost completely out of her area of expertise, she called the one person she knew would understand and give the best advice.

“Riddles!” YFN answered enthusiastically, even though she was most likely doing ten different things at once.

“Hey baby Blue.” Ridley murmured.

She heard whatever she was shuffling around pause. “Something’s wrong. What is it, Riddles?”

There she went – already knowing her far too well.

Ridley opened up about as much as she was willing to regarding her current state of mind. Knowing that the last thing she needed was to be teased, she immediately went into the part of the conversation that Ridley needed.

“Oh, Riddles. You’re okay physically?”

Ridley looked at the scrape across her arm from her wrist down and around to the outside of her elbow.

“For the most part.”

There was a pause, followed by some rustling and then her camera came on. She’d clearly moved into her office and was sporting a cute pout with her dimples on full display.

“Show me.”

Ridley rolled her eyes and turned on her camera. She let her assess her facial expression and then briefly showed her arm, assuring it was just a scrape.

“Still have all of your limbs and phalanges then?”

Ridley wiggled her fingers. “Still a platinum bisexual.”

“Riddles, you need to talk to her. I know she’s been really stressed at the moment, and missing you like crazy. Much more than she’d ever care to admit.”

“You’ve been talking to her?”

“Of course! She’s my friend.”

Ridley knew that of course, but not the extent of it. Alexia had always been a private person.

“We’ve been talking a lot at the minute,” she admitted. “I think a lot of it is because she feels closer to you when talking to me.”

She knew it was a slight hint. She didn’t even defend herself because she knew that Blue was aware of what happened when the operation was that deep into it. Instead, she brought up another concern of hers.

“I can’t leave right now. I can’t spare even the time to fly there and see her for five minutes, or I would.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Saudi.”

She grimaced. “That’s difficult. I know she needs you though, Riddles. You know you two can talk through anything, even you having to put your life on the line again. It’s completely justifiable with Wombat being hurt..”

“I can’t leave, and I don’t want her coming to Saudi in this political state. I feel like she will be more upset if I facetime her. You’ve been speaking to her lately…”

“Oh Riddles, never did I ever think you’d be calling me with relationship issues.” She chuckled softly. “I have no doubt she’ll travel to you though. She has a few days free. Where’s the farthest you can get away?”

Barely anything. “Dubai.”

Blue nodded. “How about you get a hotel in Dubai and she can meet you there?”

“I can do that.”

“You can find the time?”

“I’ll make the time.”

After her call with Blue, she felt slightly better. Her next call was to Alexia. She video called her and felt herself almost ache at the sight of a frustrated Alexia answering far too quickly.

God, that woman. She was beautiful, even as she was so obviously trying to keep her emotions in check.

They didn’t speak for a few seconds, just taking each other in. Ridley assessing Alexia’s emotions and Alexia assessing her for injuries.

“Hola,” Alexia eventually said, softly.

“Hi, love.” Ridley responded in Catalan.

The sound of her voice made Alexia smile the slightest.

“Lex, there was an incident-”

“Is everyone okay?” Those eyes betrayed just how worried she was about Ridley being off on operation.

“Everyone is alive. Wombat… he was injured. Pinned down. I had to intercede.”

Realisation. “You went into combat?”

“I had to.” She murmured. “Or we would have lost him.”

A pause before her face softened a little. “He’s okay now?”

Ridley sucked in a breath. “He’s still in critical care. They got him pretty good. I managed to extract him.”

Alexia nodded, her brain working overtime.

“Lex, this is why I need to be here. If I wasn’t there-”

“I know.” She whispered, her voice getting husky. “I know.”

“I can work second line. I get it. I have you now, I have something to come home to. But there will be operations that I need to come to.”

Alexia cleared her throat. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for your Olympics.” She said guiltily, for what seemed like the fifth time.

Alexia was not the type of person who wanted sympathy. So instead of making her feel guilty, she simply gave a small, encouraging smile. “I’m sorry I’m not there to comfort you while your brother is in hospital.”

Her heart softened. Alexia. “But could you be..?”

“I… where are you?”

“I’m in Saudi, but I can get to Dubai. Blue said you have a few days off. I don’t want to make you travel unnecessarily, though.”

Emotions flickered across her face and she tried to cover it. “I can come.”

“I’ll find a flight and send details.”

“How long can I stay?”

“However long you can be away from Barca.”

“Lee-”

“I’ll find the time, Lex. Just… come.”

“Okay.”

ALEXIA POV

The private jet Ridley had organised landed in Dubai in the afternoon when the sun had just started to set. As soon as the engines were turned off and the door was opened, customs agents came on board to check passports and visas. She had hitched a ride with a well-off family, most of who couldn’t speak a word of English or Spanish besides the father who had been lovely and offered her everything he had.

She knew by his hospitality that he knew Ridley and they had some form of a professional relationship there. There was a lot of respect.

The first customs agent to approach Alexia also couldn’t speak English, nor Spanish. It was surprising to her at first as English was so widely spoken in Dubai, though this was a smaller, private airport.

Seeing that the owner of the jet was busy with the other agent, she was slightly flustered as Ridley had organised her paperwork. She showed her passport and when the agent gestured for more, her heart sunk.

She was finally in Dubai, where Ridley was, and she had to leave again.

Fuck.

Before it became a problem, a voice sounded from the front of the aircraft. She didn’t understand the language, but she did know the voice. Alexia peered past the agent to see Ridley in an all-black suit looking so attractive her breath caught. She handed the agent some paperwork and barely looking at it, he nodded and gave Alexia a smile before leaving.

Ridley said her hellos to the man and his family before getting to her.

She filled her presence with immediate warmth and calm and that nostalgic smell of her perfume washed over her. Woody, spicy, with a sweet hint of musk. She looked up at the slightly taller woman, into those dark eyes with playful gold flecks dancing.

She wanted to touch her, kiss her, anything. But this was Dubai. And in Dubai, homosexuality was illegal. She’d need to take Ridley’s lead.

Surprisingly, the Australian leant into her in a way much more than two female friends. The side of her forehead touched Alexia’s, her body leaning into her own. God, she missed her.

She felt Ridley’s body relax against hers.

“Alexia,” she murmured quietly, as if all of her problems had faded away with her arrival. “You came.”

Alexia pressed into her, nodding. Of course she did.

Ridley pressed an impassioned kiss to her forehead before pulling away and pausing to look at her necklace. “No happy sun?” She asked in Catalan.

The stars.

She had turned it around, like she usually did when she was without her.

When she didn’t respond, Ridley reach out and touched it gently before grabbing her bag. “Is this all you had?”

“I have a small suitcase..”

“Already in the car, Lex.”

She secretly loved how organised she was. Always taking the pressure off of her. Ridley was her escape from all of that.

“Then yes.”

“Good. Come.”

They drove in silence though it was anything but uncomfortable. Alexia held Ridley’s thigh as she drove, the Australian gently stroking her hand as she did so. It felt… right.

As Ridley turned the steering wheel, she caught a glimpse of a bandage well-hidden and felt her worry rise. To distract herself, she looked at Ridley as she drove; her sharp, dark features illuminated under the city lights, and reminded herself that she was in fact, very real.

Fuck, I missed you, she thought.

Ridley took interest in a police car flying past and smirked.

Alexia’s heart melted. I missed you.

Eyes back in front of her, Ridley continued to stroke those gentle patterns into the back of her hand, sending shivers throughout her body.

Wait, why am I so stubbornly keeping this to myself? She thought. She’s my partner.

“I missed you.” Alexia said quietly and watched Ridley’s jaw flex and her eyes flutter closed for just a second.

“I could say the same but it would be the understatement of the year.”

Fuck.

Alexia moved her hand up her muscled thigh further, gliding over the fabric of her pants until her pinky was resting against her core. Ridley shifted her hips to press into her ever so slightly and the part Alexia loved most, was that it seemed like an unconscious thing.

“Keep going, Lex, and I’ll pull this car over and fuck you right here.” She turned to look at her, those gold flecks now still and serious. “Until your body fucking gives out.”

Alexia shivered with lust, but she didn’t move. She kept her hand there, pressed up against her, the car now feeling so tense with need.

They arrived at the hotel and pulled up at the front door valet. Ridley removed Alexia’s hand from her thigh and kissed it before she opened the door. It was her way of apologising, but her eyes said she wanted to tear the clothes from her body.

Ridley took her bag and Alexia followed her lead inside and to the elevators. They were granted their privacy and Alexia was pleasantly surprised at that, given they were two women sharing accommodation. As the elevator doors closed, Ridley pressed herself up against the wall opposite Alexia and tilted her head, looking her up and down. She saw her hands flexing as if to try and keep them to herself and the Spaniard smiled to herself, turning away to try and stop herself moving towards her.

Fuck, she missed this.

“You’re not making this easy.”

“You existing doesn’t make this easy.” Ridley quipped back, her gaze not moving.

Alexia watched the levels move past far too slowly for her liking and rolled her neck, closing her eyes, in an attempt to get through. Just a few more levels.

Eventually the elevator stopped and just when she thought she wasn’t going to move, Ridley swept deliberately into her space, and out the doors, brushing her arm as she went by.

Fuck.

She followed her to their accommodation and stepped through the door Ridley was holding open for her, gesturing her in while she stayed at the door.

“Go. Explore.”

It was just as spectacular as she’d imagined it to be, and more. Very Ridley-style. Sleek, modern, minimalistic with a refined culture about it. The view over to the Burj Khalifa was spectacular, and visible from not only their bed, but the shower and bath too. She ran her hand over the marble of the bathroom counter, smiling at Ridley’s things all set out how she liked. Curious, she opened the drawer at the bottom to reveal what she knew she’d find, and yet was still surprised by. Toys.

That was Ridley, always prepared. Biting her lip, she closed it.

“Thank you.” She heard Ridley say at the door.

Ah – her suitcase.

Moving back into the bedroom, she tried to ignore how tantalising the bed looked after her flight, and instead opened the wardrobe to find the few things Ridley had brought with her all neatly arranged on her side, and Alexia’s side free besides a black garment bag and a pair of heels. Zipping it down slightly, she found a stunning black satin dress in her own size. For her?

Hearing Ridley walk in and lay the suitcase on the table, she turned with a question in her eyes.

“I have a dinner reservation for us. We can go now, later or not at all. I didn’t know what you’d prefer.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Alexia replied, gesturing to her clothes. “I love your suit.”

Ridley smiled, always proud of her sense of fashion. Something they shared. “Thank-”

“Take it off.”

Ridley’s lips parted, caught off guard. Alexia loved doing that. She took one step forwards and sat on the end of the bed.

“Now.”

She smartly closed her mouth and began undressing, starting with her rings and cufflinks while Alexia watched every single piece of clothing being removed and laid out carefully on the back of the chair. She was turned around, so Alexia could only see her from behind, but that was more than enough.

She admired those back muscles of hers, her naked ass and thighs, the cropped shaggy hair at the back of her neck, and sneakily, she wanted to see how injured she was.

There were a few scrapes and bruises here and there, though as she turned around to face her, there were less on her front which was good. Her arm, though. The bandage spread from her wrist up and around to the inside of her elbow. Alexia studied it, and then the rest of her naked body with a patience she didn’t have in the elevator.

She loved the way her hair hung around her sharp jaw, the way the arteries in her neck were visible whenever she turned her head, her well-earned biceps, veiny hands, strong abs extending down into a sharp V that cut away at her hips. Thigh muscles that showed even when standing still, right down to her bare feet standing gently on the soft carpet, and back up.

Perfectly neat, manicured and clean. Perfectly… Ridley.

Mine. The voice in her head claimed fiercely.

Her eyes found the bandage again. Before she could speak, Ridley stepped forwards and knelt in front of her, her hand on Alexia’s thighs.

“Just a scratch, Lex. It’s nothing big, I promise.”

Alexia ran her hand down the bandage, feeling that there were only a few stitches along the line. “Would you have told me if I weren’t coming to Dubai?”

Only honestly reflected in those eyes. “Yes.”

Her hands moved across Ridley’s strong, naked shoulders and up into her shaggy, dark hair where they found purchase. She gripped on, pulling her head back.

“Care to explain to me why there are sex toys in the bathroom?”

Ridley chuckled, enjoying her hair being tugged on. “I wanted to be prepared. I didn’t know what you’d want from me…”

It was an honest statement. Ridley admitting she wasn’t too great at relationships. Alexia’s hands eased a bit as she softened for her.

“You want to abuse me about my arm? Go ahead. You want to tell me how awful I am for missing out on your Olympics campaign? I’ll take it. You just want to sit apart in a room in silence for 2 days? Sure. I don’t care. As long as I’m in the same fucking room as you.”

“Lee..” she whispered, every ounce of la Reina disappearing from her.

“You missed me, Lex? I fucking mourn you every day we’re apart. Just ask the team. I’m a fucking grump.”

God, if she wasn’t practically dripping already, that would certainly do it. She leant forwards and pressed her forehead against Ridley’s.

“So what do you want from me..?” She asked softly.

Unable to stop herself any longer, Alexia’s mouth found Ridley’s desperately. Passionately. And more than willing under her own. As their lips parted and their tongues brushed, Ridley groaned, her arms sliding up Alexia’s thighs, around to her lower back and under her pants to her ass.

“Being prepared is always good.” Alexia admitted breathily against her mouth.

“Answer the question before I go mad,” she responded in a desperate tone that Alexia loved.

Her hand closed around her throat to stop her mouth on hers for a second, but Ridley was strong and liked the feeling, pushing against it so she could find her neck.

God, her mouth on her neck.

Fuck.

“What do I want from you?” She gasped as Ridley pushed harder against her hand, her mouth finding that sensitive spot just below her ear. “Everything. Always. I want you.. fuck.. inside me. I want to be inside you. I want you over me. Under me. I want everything. I want all of you. Always.”

Alexia had to grip Ridley’s throat with both hands just to push her back and fuck, was it a sight. Her eyes were dark, hooded and lustful. When Alexia squeezed, they rolled back slightly.

She loved that.

Her thumb stroked across the scar on her cheek, her lips finding the one closer to her hairline.

“All of you.”

Ridley moaned.

“Fuck me, Ridley.”

She let go on her throat suddenly, the blood rushing back into her cheeks as Ridley pulled the pants off from under her. She slid them down her legs, along with the shoes and socks, working her way back up the insides of her thighs with her mouth and fingers until she was at Alexia’s obvious arousal.

Gently lowering herself and lifting her legs over her shoulders, Ridley’s mouth found her core and tasted the excitement that had built up over the past hour.

She groaned into her, as if starved from it for too long and slid her tongue inside to taste what she could. Alexia gripped into her hair for dear life.

Fuck.

Ridley groaned again, her tongue moving up through her to her clit where she worked her exactly how she liked. Not too fast, not too slow, flat tongue dragging across her clit from bottom to top like a fucking icecream.

Alexia wanted to scream. To cry out. She whimpered, her body tensing as she tried to keep it together.

Fuck she’d missed this.

She’d missed her.

Not just the sex, her fucking partner.

Ridley adjusted a little and then Alexia felt her hand sliding up the inside of her thigh, her fingers stroking through her wet mess just under her mouth to her entrance. As her mouth kept harassing her clit, she slid just the very tip of her fingers in and out, working her up.

How had she gone so long without her?

Home.

She was her fucking home.

Ridley slid her fingers in slowly, as if enjoying feeling her around them, her fingers curling around into that perfect g-spot where the large group of nerves under her clit sat. Her curled fingers pressed down hard, circling there.

And just like that, there was no hope for her. Her clit being stimulated from both directions, Ridley’s groaning, her sure tongue, strong shoulders where her legs were hung over, the pads of her fingers expertly fucking her just right.

She felt her body tightening up, being taken so fucking high so quickly. And after a month apart? After the Olympics? After missing Ridley? She needed this.

She tried to bite back her cries into whimpers as she came, but could barely manage it. Alexia was a mess.

Ridley rode her through it, her tongue being replaced by the pressure of her thumb, and her fingers still working inside her.

Somehow Ridley was moving, Alexia felt shifted backwards as she clenched, her back touching the bed and Ridley’s body above her, fingers holding pressure now.

When she could finally breathe, she did just so, though she had barely sucked in air when Ridley’s fingers started pumping in and out of her.

Oh, fuck.

She clawed at her back, trying to do anything to stop herself from coming too quickly when that’s all her body wanted. She’d never felt so comfortable in her body as when she was with Ridley. There was never any judgement for anything she wanted or felt. She encouraged it all out of her, like she never believed was possible.

“You’re my life.” Ridley grunted against her neck, her bicep flexing as she fucked her.

Alexia arched her back and held on.

She curled her fingers hard, fucking her until Alexia was frustrated at her clothing. She needed to be closer. Skin on skin. She dragged her shirt and bra up over her head, Ridley grunting, unimpressed at being interrupted from her sucking of her throat.

Better.

“Spread.”

She did as she was told, spreading her legs apart and rocking into the strong, steady thrusts of her Australian.

Fuck.

“Use your words, Lex. Be a good girl.” She encouraged as she fucked deeper, harder. “I want to hear it all.”

Up until then, she’d been trying too hard to keep it all inside. Ridley was right.

“Fuck…” she whimpered. “Fuck.. fuck. Argh.”

I love you.

“All of it,” Ridley growled, biting her neck.

“I.. I love you. I… fuck. I m..iss you. I love you. Fuck me.”

“That’s it, my girl. I want to hear every thought in your head.”

“I’m y…yours. Please don’t stop.” She cried, letting herself fall into a state of submission that only Ridley could draw out of her.

“Not if the fucking building collapsed.”

“You’re my home. I love you. I love you, Ridley.”

She felt the shiver run down Ridley’s back under her hands. Ridley’s mouth found her ear, and if she wasn’t wet enough from her fucking, the sweet sounds of squeezing, fucking wetness, then Ridley’s gasps in her ear would have done it.

“I’m yours, Alexia. All of me. Always. I love you.”

Ridley wasn’t the type to say something for the sake of it, or because it was what she wanted to hear. She only said it when she felt it so deeply that she couldn’t last a second more without letting it out.

And at that knowledge, Alexia came hard around her fingers.

“Jesus,” Ridley complimented as her fingers were sucked into her and clenched around. “Fuuuck Lex.”

A twitching, sweaty, wet mess was exactly what Alexia was. But she hadn’t felt so relaxed and at ease in a long time. She closed her eyes and felt her body release that tension it had been holding onto for a month, the anxiety and pressure it had clung onto since she’d missed her penalty at the Olympics.

It was just her, and Ridley.

No amount of sex or masturbation could give her that. It was just… them. Her. The person she fell asleep dreaming about every night. The one she often fell into a daydream about. The person who could sense her emotions better than she could.

She breathed out her tension audibly, noticing that Ridley was no longer inside her, but her body was still warm against her own, softly stroking her skin and giving her the time she needed.

She remembered back to Blau’s official launching of Lumos, and to the party that had followed. Somewhere along the way, Alexia had lost Ridley as she’d been dragged away by people wanting to talk to “La Reina.”

She’d lost everyone she knew at that point and had felt her anxiety creeping up around so many unknown people. When it threatened to take over, she’d looked up and caught Ridley’s eyes.

Somehow, she’d known before Alexia even had, and was already making her way through the crowd to her.

She’d come up close, her arm weaving around her waist, Alexia's over her shoulder and holding each other close. Just like that, her anxiety had disappeared just as fast as it had arrived.

She felt fingertips gently stroking her cheek, around her ear, down to her jaw and along it.

“Daydreaming about me, are we?”

Without opening her eyes, Alexia smiled. “Cocky.”

“Mmn, I’ll take that as a yes. You need to teach your facial expressions how to use their inside voice.”

Alexia chuckled and turned to kiss the palm of her hand now stroking through her blonde hair. She opened her eyes to see Ridley calmly studying her. “It’s only because you know me so annoyingly well.”

“Mmnhmn.” She watched her for a little longer, her fingers stroking through her hair so gently that Alexia could have fallen asleep happy right then and there. “What would you like now, Lex?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

Those gold flecks danced. “Try me.”

Alexia shifted, pushed Ridley onto her back and hovering low over her. So low her tits were brushing against Ridley’s own, her blonde hair curtaining around her face. Her leg came up Ridley’s and pressed her thigh against her own obvious arousal. The feeling of her wet against her thigh almost had her changing her mind. Ridley grabbed her ass, one of her favourite things along with her thighs, and squeezed, her eyes rolling back slightly as Alexia worked her mouth up her neck slowly, ending on her lips which she brushed over with a gentleness.

“I want to get you so frustrated that later tonight, you’ll be begging for la Reina.”

Ridley groaned in protest as Alexia stood suddenly, leaving her naked and needy on the bed.

“Now come fuck me in the shower and take me to dinner.”

RIDLEY POV

Ridley had thought she’d been prepared for everything. An angry Alexia, pissed off at her for the Olympics. A worried one, seeing her bandage. A heartbroken one, wanting to rethink them as the distance was hurting her.

Not once did she imagine Alexia to be so… fucking perfect. Frustratingly so. So needy and excited and loving and understanding of everything in its entirely.

After their rather exasperating shower in which Ridley was even more worked up by her, they got dressed. Ridley, into her tailored black suit and Alexia, into the dress she had made for her specially. She had no idea if she’d be getting Alexia or la Reina, whether she’d be feeling feminine or more androgynous, but she had taken a guess. And fuck, was she right.

Alexia walked in front of her at the restaurant, her independent side coming out more now that she’d had some stress relief and clothes to help her feel beautiful. Which was the understatement of the century.

The black dress, made to suit Ridley’s suit fit her perfectly, hugging her hips and ass. God, was she obsessed with that. The control it took to not reach out and lay her hand on it, making sure everyone knew that she was hers.

Her hair fell wavy down around her shoulders, and she was even Ridley’s height with the heels on.

She wore a few accessories that she’d chosen herself. Rings, a bracelet, earring and the sunshine necklace, though now it was turned around to show the happy sun.

They sat down to eat, trying their best to not touch each other in public. Ridley eventually gave up and leant her leg against her own under the table which sufficed her for the time being. After their starters and a few glasses of wine, they ordered their mains and while they were waiting, Alexia ducked off to the bathroom. Ridley watched her go, curious if she was being sneaky and trying to give them her credit card to pay before she could.

But she didn’t. She headed straight to the bathroom, and straight back.

As she arrived back, she sat just as the mains arrived. They would do their typical thing of sharing half a meal each, as delicious as they both looked.

Alexia smiled and thanked the server as he left. Watching him go, she turned back to Ridley.

“Shall we eat?”

Alexia gave her a look. “As long as you’re not too full to eat tonight.”

Christ.

“I will never be too full for that. And I will never be fully fucking satiated by tasting you either.” She murmured low enough that others couldn’t hear.

“Good.” She smiled and then reached her hand across the table. “You dropped this.”

Please don’t be my fucking credit card the sneaky-

As soon as she took hold of it, she froze, jaw locking and eyes closing while she tried to control herself.

Alexia crossed her legs and began to eat her meal while Ridley slipped her underwear into her pocket.

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