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#bachira meguru x reader
yotasukes-toaster · 5 hours
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dating the blue lock boys as student council members : ̗̀➛
BLUE LOCK MEN x gn!reader
content. explicit, making out, bachira having a getting-caught kink, bottom!nagi hinted, blowjobs
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MEGURU BACHIRA
A person who’s face belies their hidden nature. He’s certainly the type of person to shamelessly abuse his power, for he knows that, no matter what he does, he’s talented enough for his position not to be shaken within the Student Council. Despite his childish and chatty personality, Bachira is arguably one of the scariest members— As stated by Isagi, since the whole ‘innocent’ bit is just as facade, and he can tear into the heart of any student and cause them to break. To any outsider, he’s the kindest ray of sunshine; to the rest of the Student Council members, he’s the hidden wild card of the group.
And when it comes to you, Bachira loves to fool around with you a lot, it’s a wonder how he’s never been caught up to this point. He’s obsessed with the idea of luring you into the Student Council meeting room and hanging out there when it’s empty, closing out the room to any people who could potentially be passing by, and kissing you in seats the two of you should not be sat in. Sometimes he’ll even kick other students out of free classrooms for ‘serious Student Council business’ just to make out with you against one of the desks. You tell him repeatedly that you shouldn’t fool around in school, but it’s like the thrill of getting caught makes it all the more enticing for him— Especially with his status.
NAGI SEISHIRO
Honestly, he doesn’t even particularly want to be a part of the Student Council. Nagi just happens to be exceptionally great, despite not even trying. Because of that, he was offered a position as a member. He only heard the benefits of potentially skipping classes, so he was eager to join, but he supposed he had forgotten that he would actually need to pay attention in the meetings that he attends…
He would much rather spend time with you than attend any of the meetings. You’d sometimes need to convince him to stop spending time with you and focus on his Student Council duties instead. You need to make promises to him that if he attends his next meeting, you’ll be sure to reward him with a session of him laying back while you do all the work as soon as the two of you got home— Which he supposed is enough to get him through an hour of talking from the Student Council President.
REO MIKAGE
Admittedly, he only joined the Student Council initially for the boost in reputation and because of pressure from his parents. But now that he’s there, he feels like he really can’t be bothered carrying out any of the duties he’s supposed to. The only thing he finds fun about being a part of the Student Council now is getting to brag to you about what kind of power he has in that position and how he can practically force the school to respect you.
Unfortunately, being the simp that he is, he can’t help but unintentionally abuse his power in order to appease you— Unlike Bachira, who will purposefully abuse his power. Reo would be more than happy to punish students who have wronged you, or manipulate certain events just so you can get the role that you wished. I mean, how could he refuse? After you give him everything he dreamed for and more in the privacy of your own lives?
YOICHI ISAGI
The entire school wonders how someone like Isagi ended up in the Student Council, especially since he didn’t exactly size up to any of the other members. On multiple occasions, he was mistaken for a secretary, or a coffee-boy— Anything but an actual, contributing member of the group. Despite this, he tries his hardest to prove himself to the rest of the members and the rest of the school that he’s worth standing amongst the academy’s finest, and he uses his power and status for the bettering of the institution. He’s fair and just, never once even standing on the path to becoming corrupt, and it’s all to ensure his own popularity and role.
Which is particularly the reason why he can get so nervous whenever you insist on doing it in the meeting room. He can feel beads of sweat tracing down the sides of his face as you unbuckle his pants, sinking down to your knees in front of him while you ensured him that it was okay. He would constantly look between the top of your head and the entrance of the room, feeling a hard-to-swallow lump in his throat as the possibilities of getting caught raced through his mind— It was one of his greatest fears. But it never stopped the two of you from repeating this action over and over again every time a meeting ended and you snuck in.
RIN ITOSHI
The Student Council President. Although it’s no surprise that he secured that spot, there’s a lot of speculation about whether his position was the result of nepotism since his older brother had been the previous President and his parents made up a large portion of the Academy’s donations. He finds that being called a ‘nepo baby’ is one of the greatest insult to him, and won’t be hesitant to shut anyone he even alludes to such a possibility. He works tirelessly to maintain the school’s image, and keeps up an almost pristine reputation for himself. He’s counted on as one of the most intelligent of all of the members, and can find himself getting frequently annoyed at the laziness, incompetency, and sometimes downright stupidity of his team. But they’re a group of people only he can insult; if anyone else tried it, they’d be dead.
Being the President of such a difficult to maintain group, he constantly finds that he needs to let off steam. If he ever decided to do it with you inside the school, he’d never do it while there would be other students possibly roaming around. He’d always wait for after-school, or even before classes begin in the morning, to have his way with you. What the two of you get up to depends on how he feels. If he just needs a wake up before lessons, it can lead to the two of you making out in his chair. However, on the days where he finds himself a little more pissed-off than usual after an after-school meeting, he’d pin you down against the desk and practically force those moans out of you. You’re a real stress reliever for him. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you.
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catelismo · 2 days
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HEY GIRLIE <3 can you maybe make a Bachira X y/n going on a painting date? Because I remembered in the manga or anime that his mother likes to paint and it would be ao cute to see the girl he likes most has the same interest as his mother, the two get messy in paints then maybe he engages her?
ANIMATED SCENERY! ( MEGURU BACHIRA )
SYNOPSIS. with all of the paints in the world splashed onto both on your bodies and smiles, it may seem very ideal for meguru to crack that fateful question of marriage.
RINA'S NOTES. this is actually so cute i started crying from the scenario itself 💗💗💗, THANK U FOR REQUESTING LOVE <3 and sorry that it took so long, i was quickly running out of ideas 😖😖
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When he was younger, his mother's ambition and rather rebellion of painting captivated him.
The attention on her paintbrushes and how she developed texture by the mere soft strokes created a spark within his soul. He would giggle at her. Or he would show stars as eyes at the blending flowers that danced in the canvas in sync; showing something quite extraordinary. He remembered what his mother painted; two figures holding each other tightly as the overwhelming bullets of water washed them out, drenching their clothes.
At first, he was young and did not quite capture the meaning of love — his first initial thought of it was completely reasonable for a child: Is it an ice cream flavour? And now that he's entered the adult section of life, with an high earning salary as a football pro-player laced around in his fingers
And this is why he thought of the most extraordinary idea to engage in today with someone he held dear near his heart.
Painting date. With his one of a kind lover who was currently snuggling against the crook of his exposed neck with a smile that was definitely drawn on. The place for this special memory took place more specifically outside of the urban cities and into the nurturing fields of the countryside.
Wearing sundresses, straw hats and soft sandals tasted nostalgic and old-fashioned in both of her shoes and tongue but the high gloss-like touch of arms colliding stayed empowered throughout; Meguru never failed to use his infamous infectious smile that you couldn't help but fall for his wonderful tricks of mischief. You may giggle at the sight or you may messily push him into the grass as the paint watches you battling with joy. All you really know of: this Is life with Bachira like at this spectacular moment. Wow.
And oh my! Did it not feel ethereal at the moment?
It was perfect just the two of you, grabbing canvas and mounting them against the frame as your freshly bought acrylic paints stacked along together; Meguru quickly came to your aid when a wicked thought crossed his mind. What if he was just happened to accidentally commence a art fight? In more ways than one.
And thus, is how you find yourselves splashed in expensive hues of reds and yellows and blues. Initially, you were worried, worried that these one of a kind paints may stain the newly white dress that was an all-time favourite, but who were you to deny a chaotic time like this one? Especially when you wanted to erase that painted smirk of his face and sketch out a frown instead.
"Y/N, come back here!" With those sugary words from Meguru, you ended up going, running back to him as he used all of his strength to twirl round and around in the slightly coloured grass that contained a decent amount of raindrops; maybe it was from the rain last night?
Now, there was something so enchanting about the way your paint strokes danced around his textural ones — it felt way too satisfying for your preferences. It kinda gave him déjà vu when that gaze between the two of you reconnected again. Almost resembling a thundering piece like one of his mother's earlier paintings before. Two star-struck figured that hugged each other's waist in the pouring rain. Something you'd see straight out of a romance film.
Longing for that yearning touch, he must've reached inside of your heart as the slim fingers of his softening touch grasped his lover's fingers; perfectly locking them into place for what it seemed to be an eternity.
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Art was set aside and then lunch arrived with a glorious picnic awaiting nearby. Fruit salads on a summery day and homemade macaroons complimented well for side dishes as crafted burritos and tacos were firstly eaten; you definitely did a great job arranged this meal as your gleam managed to outshine the afternoon sun, in Meguru's eyes.
By being distracted by something in his clothing, he wanted to put his plan in action. Should I do it? It was certainly unlikely for him to be so hesitant about this. If anything, he would've been on his knees by now — hell, even inserting that luxurious ring on her fourth finger right away!
But he doesn't have to be afraid: Isagi himself said it too. You'll be fine Bachira, you love her and she loves you. There's no way that she doesn't feel the same way.
But how can he be so sure about this? I mean, he was nervous about this, but was it so severe? Who knows what might happen; he did all of this planning for a long time, and without having the slightest idea if she really wants to get married to someone like him——
"Meguru, are you okay?"
Shocked eyes and widen mouth went together in a combo as the desperation to hide that obsidian box containing the ring had somewhat succeeded. Somewhat was the key word in this as Y/N noticed the fidgeting of his fingers nearby the blanket.
"I was going to tell you this later but... I think I can do this right now." He could, no, he will propose to her here and today while the sun's out and shining way too brightly for his liking.
He didn't matter how anyone viewed him nowadays in contrast to the amount of bullying he had endured as a toddler but in his eyes, he had seen his girlfriend (who hopefully might become his newly spouse) go through his rights and wrongs in any form and shape. He was greatful, greatful that someone like her didn't join the crowd of society to isolate him, but rather hold him like he's your prized gem.
Gasping, fuck even crying at this point at the sight of a beautiful gold rimmed ring with a small pound of emeralds ringed and worn hand by hand had you certainly speechless. It is most absolutely the most beautiful thing you've laid eyes on.
Not was you crying but Bachira had a few tears rolling down when he finally said "Will you marry me?" with a smile that you yourself have drawn on him with not a paintbrush, but with something else more exclusive. A heart.
"Yes! A thousand times yes!" And he didn't know how fast he got up to you but dies it matter now? You were now finally his, and his only.
He felt really animated by the scenery he rose up in him; all of that because of his mother's passion.
Thanks, mom.
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© CATELISMO ✶ any actions of plagiarism, distribution and tracing any of my works is strictly prohibited.
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yeonniesblog · 5 months
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— bllk boys reaction to you pranking them with nudes/exposing picture and telling them it wasn't meant for them.
nsfw words used. slight ooc remarks but it's just for fun | masterlist
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this was requested by @joyfulenthusiastwitch
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hyomaslut · 8 months
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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ
✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!
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managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.
and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.
you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.
being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.
that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…
2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333
the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.
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ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.
in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.
apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.
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there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.
meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.
and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.
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someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.
the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.
honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.
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itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.
he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.
and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”
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you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.
it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.
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this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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ilyluffy · 8 months
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𝒢𝒜𝑀𝐸 ~ 𝒪𝒱𝐸𝑅
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: meguru bachira + seishiro nagi + rin itoshi + sae itoshi
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gn!reader, needy!characters, teasing, dry humping, manhandling, oral, spankings, implied sex {more warnings under the cut}
{haikyuu edition}
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𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: needy!sort of bratty!bachira, gn!reader, teasing, dry humping
bachira was needy and he wasn’t ashamed about it at all. in fact, because of how open bachira was with how clingy he could be it was more surprising that you didn’t expect him to bother you while you were gaming. you were laying on your back in bed, controller in hand, when bachira suddenly pounced on to you. “i want attention” he states bluntly. although you realize that it’s less than of an announcement and more so a demand. he wanted your focus to be on him and him alone right now. however you try to stay stubborn. if you kept giving meguru whatever he wanted whenever he wanted he’d only become spoiled. so you attempt to shake your head no. “meguru i’m in the middle of something” you say, trying to ignore him as he straddles your waist. that causes bachira to raise an eyebrow. it was very rare that you denied him but just like every other occasion where you’ve tried to be stern with him, bachira reminded you why not feeding his neediness was impossible. without warning bachira starts humping your lap. you nearly drop the controller in your hand when you feel his bulge grinding against your core. “are you sure you’re busy?” bachira asks, giving you a mischievous grin. “because my cock wants you right now”.
𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: needy!dom!nagi, gn!sub!reader, some humour, manhandling, implied multiple rounds
nagi is fully aware that he’s a hypocrite but he doesn’t particularly care either. right now he wants attention and he was starting to regret getting you into video games. no matter how much he pouts you nudge him away from you. “in a minute seishiro. i’m almost done this level”. those words would result in nagi grumbling under his breath “reo would pay attention to me”. still not taking him seriously, you’d laugh. “maybe you should start dating reo then”. nagi doesn’t agree that that’s very funny. in fact, that’s the last straw. within the blink of an eye your game counsel is being knocked out of your hand and nagi’s pinning you down. you’re taken aback by how his eyes, which are usually soft, look down at you with an intense gaze. you’re not sure whether you’re nervous or excited but you have a suspicion that it’s a bit of both. “what would you rather play with. the game or this?” nagi says, taking your hand and guiding it to the bulge in his sweats. the whimper you let out tells him all he needs to know. “that’s what i thought. you can forget about finishing the level because i’m not letting you go for the rest of the day”. he means it too. i hope you’re ready for multiple rounds and endlessly cuddles once nagi’s satisfied with fucking you.
𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gn!reader, needy!dom!rin, implied oral (reader receiving)
rin will never admit to being needy but he does get that way a lot. although this stubbornness proved to be his downfall because during those times he wanted your attention you had no idea because he wouldn’t just say it. like right now, when you were busy gaming, you were too distracted by the screen in front of you to notice rin’s lame attempts at dropping hints. instead of getting you to notice through subtle gestures rin really should have just voiced his feelings but he has something else in mind. as your fingers strategically mash buttons, you suddenly feel rin get comfortable between your legs. it startles you at first but eventually you recover and knit your eyebrows together without turning away from your game. “rinny, what are you doing?” you question. rather than giving you verbal answer, rin kisses your core through your bottoms. with the fabric being thin, you feel more than you expect to. it sends a shiver of pleasure up your spine and a moan tumbling from your lips. you try putting the game on pause because now you know what’s coming but rin stops you. “finish the level” he drawls, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. “i want you to finish it while i take care of you down here”. you’re not sure whether or not you’re being rewarded or punished but before you can decide if you really want to accept rin’s challenge he’s diving in between your thighs again.
𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gn!sub!reader, mean!dom!sae, spankings, implied penetrative sex
sae knew he shouldn’t have bought you the game counsol. unfortunately he had a bad habit of spoiling you. so when that you wanted the video game he caved it and got it despite his opinion that people got addicted to those things far too easily. now sae was suffering the consequences. he came home after practice with the intention of fucking you senseless but you barely react when he walks through the door. your face being glued to the screen in front of you as you lay on your stomach makes sae’s eye twitch with irritation. “welcome home” you greet dully as he sits behind you in the bed. you haven’t even given him a second glance. normally sae would at least give you a warning before he punished you but he was so annoyed that he doesn’t even grant you that. instead he boosts your hips up so you’re in a downward dog yoga pose and spanks your ass. you squeal, dropping the controller in your hand. “w-what was that for?” you ask, flustered as you rub the spot his palm had connected with. smacking your hand away, sae gets to work pulling your bottoms off. “no, go ahead. keep ignoring me” he sends you an icy glare as he takes his cock out of his own pants. “i’ll show you what happens when you choose a video game over me”.
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2022–2023 © ilyluffy — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
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zeijia · 8 months
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꒰ᐢ..ᐢ゛everyone gets a turn !!
info; you're Isagi Yoichi's sweet girlfriend, who also had done a dirty deed with his friends.
featuring. ITOSHI RIN, NAGI SEISHIRO, BACHIRA MEGURU, CHIGIRI HYOMA !! [SEPERATE] x AFAB!READER
cw. oral, cheating, degration, praise, mommy kink, tit fucking, choking, gagging, riding, clothed grinding, fingering, vaginal penetration, squirting
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
CHAPTER II >0<
Your boyfriend, Isagi Yoichi, has always been a sweet and caring boy. He was always giddy, he showers you with love and care, and he's always by your side. He was also friendly, too. So you knew his friends after a few months of dating. Isagi's friends were your friends, too. Isagi wasn't oblivious, except for one thing.
It's the fact his friends have all had a taste of pleasure with you.
But how could you bring yourself to tell him that? It would break his poor heart. He was a sweetheart, a certified lover boy. So there was no way you could tell him that. So here you are, cheating on your boyfriend.
ITOSHI RIN was the first guy to have a taste of you. He hated your boyfriend. He considered Isagi as his rival, and he would do anything to beat Isagi. It annoyed him when Isagi introduced such a pretty thing to them, being extremely affectionate with you, calling you these stupid endearments, and you were doing the same, too. It was annoying, and Rin couldn't stand that. The fact that Isagi had gotten himself such a gorgeous lady made his rage towards Isagi grow further. He saw how happy you are with isagi, smiling and talking to his friends, and even talking to him. You looked up to him, like literally, since he was a tall guy, after all. Your doe eyes would always give him goosebumps, he wondered, what would you look like looking up to him with those eyes as you sucked his dick off like your life depended on it? Well, that was exactly what was happening now.
“Go on, take it. You can do it, doll.” he coos, his hand gripping the back of your skull as he pushed your head further, causing you to take more of his huge cock. Muffled whines were heard from you as he kept on pushing you forward, forcing you to take down his dick, and fucking your throat. Your eyes widened when you felt his cock hit the back of your throat, and you looked up at him. That's the view Itoshi Rin wanted to see. Your pretty eyes all teary, a blush on your cheek, and your mouth stuffed full with his cock. “fuck… what a whore.” he groaned out, throwing his head back on the sofa as you started sucking down on his cock, his heavy hand still on your head, his thumb giving your hair a few strokes. “I wonder what Isagi would do if he saw this.” Rin scoffed, and you whined with the thought of your boyfriend catching you two, sending vibrations down his cock. “Fuck- good, that's it.” a half smirk was present on Rin's face, as he looked down once more at you, your tears now streaming down your face as you proceeded to suck him off. 
He then grabbed your hair, and started bobbing your head on his cock, causing you to gag. “Ah fuck.. yeah, just like- ngh, just like that.” he grunted, looking at your face as you proceeded to choke and gag on his cock, he loved this sight, he loved seeing you take his fat dick on your mouth. “That asshole's a lucky bastard, tch.” he muttered out, in annoyance on how Isagi's gotten you, on how Isagi probably stuffed up your cunt and turned you into a moaning mess for him. He was annoyed, and proceeded to go faster, causing you to whine. You had no control, and Rin was being too harsh with you, but you can't deny that you don't like it. You loved it. A few more minutes of you throttling on his cock, and he finally came down your throat. He pulled away from your mouth, and more spurts of his cum spilled on your pretty face, the sight gave him an ego boost, it was his way of saying 'fuck you, Isagi.' , it felt like he had won something against Isagi. “now this is more like it.”
NAGI SEISHIRO who didn't seem to care when Isagi introduced a girl, but something caught his attention. Your chest. It was.. well, he would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. He knew it would be wrong if he did something to his friend's girl, but hey, what would go wrong if he doesn't find out? His logic was simple. He thought having a raging hard dick in his sweatpants each time he thinks of you was such a hassle, which is why he invited you over in disguise that you two would only play some games he bought. So why are you here, sitting down on his bed, your cardigan thrown away somewhere in his room, him laying down as you pushed your breasts together, squeezing them down on Nagi's cock? “l-like this, nagi?” you asked, you were rather shy, the blush on your face visible as you looked up at him. “mph- mhm. Yeah, just like that..” he murmured, as you slowly started to rub your breasts together on his cock. “does it.. feel good, seishiro?” you asked, your focus on how his dick twitched once you started moving your boobs together. “yes.. ah! shit, feels good..” he whimpered out, your lips kissing the tip of his cock and giving it kitten licks. “mfff….hah, just like that, just like that… mommy.” he groaned, feeling your warm tongue suck the tip of his cock and your round breasts rubbing against his length.
You were slightly surprised when Nagi called you 'mommy', but you figured he wanted to be taken care of. Isagi told you Nagi was a slacker, and how lazy Nagi is outside the field. With those thoughts on your head, you looked at the snowy haired boy, sweat dripping on his face and neck, whimpers, groans, and grunts being heard from him. A sly smile crept up on your face, “there, there, seishiro. Mommy will take care of you, okay?” you chuckled, taking his tip back on your mouth and rubbing your breasts faster, and that earned a moan from him. “wanna cum, wanna cum, mommy please.. ah-!” his breath hitched, and you felt his dick twitch again, and you pulled his tip out of your mouth, as warm liquid came out of his dick, making a mess on your breasts. 
Nagi let out a long sigh, and his gaze looking back at you. “good boy, seishiro.” you smiled at him, before crawling towards him and giving him a pat in the head. He then pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap, his dick resting just under your ass, as he gave your nipple a teasing bite. “wanna make you feel good too, mommy.”
BACHIRA MEGURU who was Isagi's self proclaimed best, best, bestest friend. You found his extraordinary behavior funny, it amused you every time Bachira would do silly things in public with no shame at all. You never suspected Bachira to be the type to be possessive, obsessive, or anything dark whatsoever.
Bachira had always been a ball of sunshine, his optimism always cheered you up, even during times you and Isagi would have a little quarrel, Bachira would be there for you to hear you rant on about Isagi and cheer you up afterwards. By cheering up, it means eating you up and murmuring sweet nothings as he laps on your cunt.
“I'm sure he doesn't mean it, pretty.” Bachira murmured, as he kissed your clit before sucking back on it, his two fingers prodding on your hole. “I'm sure he'll apologize,” he breaks contact with your clit, as his two fingers toyed with your throbbing hole. “and everything will be alriiiiiiight soon.” he smiled, dipping down on your clit again, bullying it with his skilled tongue. Bachira never failed to cheer you up, to make you feel good. “hngh.. meguru-! ah.. no-not there!” you moaned out, as he curled his fingers inside your cunt, earning a loud moan from you. His fingers were long and it never made you feel empty, it went along with his tongue that was so fucking skilled, it alone could make you come undone. You threw your head back on the sofa, seeing stars as Bachira was skillfully eating you out and fingering you.
“See? He's already calling.” Bachira smiled, looking at your phone that was beside you as he pulled his tongue away from your clit, his fingers still playing with you. “go on, answer him.” Bachira spoke and handed you the phone, his voice laced with mischief. Your head was in a haze, as you took the phone and answered your boyfriend. “Hey, Y/n, uh.. I know I was a jerk..” your boyfriend Isagi trailed off, talking about his mistakes and what he did wrong and apologizing to you. He was being genuine and sincere with you, but you didn't even get a single thing he said.
Why? Because you were focused on the pleasure Bachira was giving you. His tongue abusing your poor clit, his fingers curling inside your cunt, and you tried not to make any noise as you felt your stomach tighten a knot forming in your stomach as you whispered to bachira, “'m gonna cum..!” you hushed him, signaling him to stop, but he only gave you a half-assed smirk and continued further, causing you to use your other hand to cover your mouth, “and that's that. I'm sorry, please forgive me, Y/N. I didn't mean it.” your boyfriend finished whatever he was saying, but you also finished and came undone on Bachira's tongue and made a mess on his fingers. Your eyes rolled back, seeing stars as you sighed out, trying to come down from your peak of pleasure.
Bachira gave you a wink, and the sigh sounded like those sighs your girlfriend would give you after hearing your apology, and Isagi did not suspect anything. “Okay.. I accept your apology, Yoichi.. 'm sorry too..” you muttered on the phone, and your other hand gave Bachira a pat in the head. Little does Isagi know that, that “sorry” had two meanings.
CHIGIRI HYOMA who you considered to be your best friend out of Isagi's friends. Chigiri was sassy, and he had an attitude, too. You easily got along with him, both of you talking about skin care products, hair products, lotions, all of those stuff. Isagi smiled at you two's friendship. He was happy that you could have a relatable talk with someone in his circle of friends cause they were all boys. You trusted Chigiri, alot. He was always giving you advice, and you two became close. He would tell you some gossip he heard, and you would tell him gossip from your college in return. One day, he invited you to watch movies at his place, just a normal, friendly, and casual hang out for close friends.
But somehow, you're on his lap, grinding your clothed pussy lazily at his crotch. “geez.. we only agreed for movies.” he sighed, placing his hands on your waist. “Though, I suppose I wouldn't mind a little activity.” he added, and that gave you the signal to take your panties off, and he did the same, swiftly taking his underwear off, before you went back crashing onto his lips, and crawling back to his lap, his hand pressing back on your ass, as you made yourself comfortable. You looked at his dick, he was hung. He was.. big. You gulped, wondered if you could take that in. “What's the matter? Have you and Isagi never done it?” Chigiri queried, getting a load at your expression. “We have but-” you paused, “it's just so… big.” you shyly admitted “so is Isagi that small?” he teased, a giggle following after. You couldn't possibly respond after that. It was awkward. “alright, let's get serious now, go, ride me.” he quickly averted his gaze back to you, as you nodded and inserted his length down on your pretty pussy.
Your wetness coating his dick, as it went inside. Slowly but surely, it found itself home and cozy inside your cunt as you nuzzled your head on the crook of his neck. “you're so.. fucking tight.” Chigiri grunted, as he slowly started thrusting, and you rocked along with his rhythm, bouncing on his cock. “you're like a virgin, first time being fucked by a cock this big?” he teased you, pulling you into a deep heated kiss as your hips moved in sync with his. Each thrust made you see stars. “haaah.. hyoma.. so- ah! hngh.. so good..” you moaned out, “oh I bet it does." The steady pace got you feeling comfortable, and it caught you off guard when he started thrusting faster. “ah-! wa-wait.. hyo-hyoma!” you mewled out, as he continued to thrust despite your protests. “sorry pretty.” he grunted, the fast pace made you feel so so good.
A new found feeling you never thought would come. Isagi was often soft with you, he would be slow and steady unless you tell him to or when he's frustrated, but Chigiri.. his speed was something else, and his cock being buried so deep inside you made you feel insane pleasure. You might just cum right away. “i-i'm gonna.. cum! gonna cum, hyoma- ah!” you whined out, a smirk was present in Chigiri's face, as he only thrusted faster and harsher. You were crying, wrapping your arms around him, babbling nonsense and chanting his name like some prayer. Music to Chigiri's ears. It wasn't long before your pleasure washed you over. And no, it wasn't any ordinary orgasm you'd experience, you squirted.
“holy- fuck, never knew you were a squirter.” Chigiri gasped, witnessing how you squirted on his cock, and your body tensed up. “do that again.” he stated, his voice stern. Chigiri knows what he wants, and he's getting it. Something tells you this will be a very, very, long day.
© zeijias. do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work.
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kaiijo · 11 months
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THINGS YOU DO THAT HE FINDS HOT — [BLUE LOCK]
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characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, itoshi rin, barou shouei content: gn! reader, suggestive content notes: hope you enjoy!
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⋆。° isagi yoichi
oh. my. gosh. isagi is absolutely down bad for you wearing his clothes — specifically, his jersey. tbh all the players love when you do but with mr. isagi “egoist” yoichi is one of the most obsessed with it.
whether his clothes are loose, tight, or fit just right, isagi’s face is flushed red and his eyes are glued to you with stars in them. after he see you in his jersey, he’s giving you his sweatshirts and jackets and looking up matching clothes on the internet
⋆。° bachira meguru
bachira immediately gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you dance. he loves seeing how carefree you are when you do and just the way you twist and move your body.
if you really want to make his heart skip a beat, invite him to dance with you with an outstretched hand and a sweet grin and he’s absolutely putty in your hands. when you dance as close as you can, chest to chest, he’s melting in your arms with an uncharacteristically shy smile and a whole army of butterflies in his stomach
⋆。° kunigami rensuke
kunigami really, really, really likes it when you openly admire his physique. he’s not trying to be vain but he works hard for his muscles so he loves it when you show your appreciate for that hard work
you can do this in various ways: compliment him, stare at him when he works out, squeeze around his arm and ask if he’s bulked up more since the last time that he saw you with a little, cheeky smile. whatever you do, it has kunigami feeling a little lightheaded
⋆。° nagi seishiro
this might be cliché but nagi thinks it’s super hot when you get really passionate about things that either you like or that he likes. as someone who is pretty lazy, there’s something about the contrast of you getting fired up that he likes. he’s focuses on how animated you get when you’re telling him about something you love, the way you speak, the way you gesture, nagi just can’t take his eyes of you
like i said, he really likes you being passionate about things he likes. when you get really into a video game you’re playing together, sharp eyes trained in the screen and your fingers mashing buttons on your console, cursing quietly under your breath when something doesn’t go right — it may not seem that nagi is paying attention but he is and he’s enjoying every moment he’s spending with you
⋆。° chigiri hyoma
chigiri’s face gets really warm whenever you trace your fingers along his face. you’re reverent, enraptured by his beauty and even though chigiri is always told how pretty he is, it’s different when it comes from you because it’s you. he’s squirming and blushing under your gaze
what makes him even more flustered is if you’re cuddling with one another and you ghost your fingertips along his jawline and whisper about just how beautiful he is. there’s something so intimate about it and chigiri feels like he’s locked in some sort of trance with you that neither of you really care to leave
⋆。° rin itoshi
laughing at his jokes even when they’re deadass not funny is the quickest way to get rin’s heart thumping. because he’s someone who’s usually super serious, it’s kind of rare for him to crack any quips but when he does, it usually falls flat because people think he’s serious (or because it’s blatantly not funny) but you can always figure out when he does and he can count of you to let out a little giggle at the very least
maybe it’s the way your mouth curves into a smile or the way your eyes light up with amusement but rin just thinks you look your best when you’re laughing (especially at his jokes/“jokes”). he presses adoring kisses to every inch of your face when you get a private moment together
⋆。° barou shouei
barou is an absolute sucker for you getting along with his younger sisters. he’d honestly rather die than admit it but regardless of how old they are (if they’re really much younger or pretty close in age to him), you being an older sibling figure and role model to them really attracts him to you
he may always roll his eyes when his sisters insert themselves into your time together, but he would absolutely kill for them (and for you) so seeing all the people he cares most getting close just makes him feel even more superior for choosing you as his partner. when they finally do leave you alone, he’s definitely pulling you into his arms to show you his appreciation
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
hiiii can we /i get how would blue lock boys act morning after a pretty rough night with their lover
Morning afters are really fun to write. I love the softness that comes with them.
Pairing: Yoichi Isagi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, morning after, literal sleeping together, cuddling, kissing, massage, eating together, hickies
A/N: Everyone needs some good unwinding after waking up. Especially when you're sore.
Isagi always waits until you wake up. He does wake up before you most of the time, even after a wild night but if he was a little rough the night before then he wants to look you over thoroughly in the morning and make sure that you can still walk right. He always has a nice fluffy robe ready for you too, so you don't even have to get up to put your clothes on.
Bachira traces his fingers lightly over your back while you stir awake. He can't help but be gentle with you, almost too gentle in the way he slowly sucks hickies onto your shoulder, no longer biting until you thrash under him but instead meaning to soothe you. Maybe he took it a bit far last night but come on, he's been so pent up lately, besides he has the whole weekend to make up for it. Just you and him.
Sae is out of bed before you wake up, already getting his morning routine started with some training. He keeps it quiet because he doesn't want to wake you up, and of course by the time you wake up it's breakfast time for you both so you can eat together. Before that however he wants to have you in his lap a little, just cradling you in his arms and caressing your body where it might hurt.
Rin is very subtle in the way he inspects you after he's been rough, especially if he does it the following morning. He'll steal glances at you to see where the marks are, where your skin might have a different tone and he will be careful throughout the whole day to avoid those spots, not wanting to make you any more sore then you already were.
Chigiri wants to give you a nice massage after you wake up. Just something to fully relax you after last night. He throws in a few flirty remarks here and there, and maybe squeezed a couple of choice places but doesn't take it any further then that. He probably won't be so rough with you for a while, so savor every memory from last night. He sure as hell will.
Kunigami has a bath ready and warm for you when you wake up. There's no better way to start the day, and get rid of some of that ache left over. He feels very apologetic because of last night. Seeing the bruises he left, how you wince when he touches certain places he can't help but feel that he went a little too far. His worries are put at ease when you tell him about all the other stuff you wanted him to do. He might be stronger then you but you're not made of glass either.
Reo loves having you in his lap as much as he can, with as little clothes as possible throughout the day. Partially because he loves seeing the marks he's made, and showing off those he has on his own body, and partially because he loves kissing the spots he knows hurt. Even going a little too low in some cases and having to apologize for lusting over you already.
Nagi wants to spend the whole next day in bed, kissing you and going over every detail of the night, knowing full well the effect it has on you. Even so early in the morning you still give him such wonderful reactions, how could he not tease you relentlessly? The only time he will stop talking about it is when you kiss him, but that just makes him want to reenact the night before.
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yeosatinyngz · 3 months
Text
WHAT’S GOOD BRO??
↳GN Reader | ⚠️Mention of one off’ing themselves⚠️
➼Your bf’s reaction to you calling them bro | JJK Ver.
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taintedtort · 5 months
Text
" NO NUT NOVEMBER! "
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summary. how long they last during NNN
characters. nagi, bachira, rin
warnings. gn!reader, suggestive, no nut november
a/n. i did this prompt before with genshin, but it’s november again so i wanted to do it for bllk
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NAGI
☆ reo thought it would be funny to make a bet, challenging nagi with a promise of a new game if he survived the entire month. he agreed since he’d been wanting the game for a while, and well… how hard could it be? apparently… extremely hard. the first week was fine, he barely even made an effort to restrain himself, too focused on other things. however, during week two, he realized how pent up he was getting. he had to actually make an effort, which honestly bugged him. week three comes along and he’s had enough, he can barely touch you without his mind running wild. decides the game isn’t worth it and that it’s too much effort to continue denying himself.
"forget that challenge, it’s such a hassle."
BACHIRA
☆ he tried to do it the year before, but forgot and failed on day 3, so this year he’s determined. he knows it’ll be hard, and he knows it’ll be inconvenient, but his ego pushes him to try anyway. barely makes it through week one, you have to keep reminding him of the challenge before he gets too carried away. halfway through week two, he’s so pent up that he’s begging you to touch him. you remind him yet again, but he insists, promising that he won’t cum and that he just needs a little taste. that, of course, was a lie. he couldn’t hold back and ended up fucking you on the couch.
"please? just for a second? my cock‘s throbbing, cmon."
RIN
☆ he thought it was the dumbest idea ever, but you were the one that insisted he try. you taunted him, poking at his ego and betting that he couldn’t last the whole month. he reluctantly gave in, rolling his eyes and scoffing at your teasing. he made it pretty far without much complaining, but even rin has his needs. during week three, he’s not only very needy, but also annoyed. he’s irritated that the challenge is holding him back, and he’s irritated that every time he tries to give up, you won’t let him. you tease him, telling him that you knew he couldn’t last, and your taunts always make him want to prove you wrong, so he holds out. he’s more moody than usual the last week of november, ready to take it out on you the second the month is over and he can end this stupid challenge. and he does just that. december 1st hits and he’s on you within a minute, hungrily kissing you and tugging at your clothes while grumbling complaints.
"that was hell, i’m never doing that again."
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dreamermonica · 1 year
Text
“how much do you love me?”
in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.
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—includes itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, barou shouei
—gender neutral reader, isagi is the only normal one AGAIN, trigger warning for kais*r himself, established relationships, fluff, crack, nagi’s got a bit too real for a sec, some swearing, yeah this is reminiscent of my most popular post on genshinblr what abt it😤
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SAE surprisingly ponders your question. years of your random questions getting ignored has its effects, and it is definitely the reason you're now staring at him like a madman, ready to catch his response in an instant. oh my, you think your heart isn't ready for this. what could your lovely and handsome boyfriend say that'll effectively swoop you off your fee—
“as much as one would love a rock, i guess.”
you whine as you throw your head back in frustration, sliding off the couch dramatically, earning him a scoff. “so mean! and unromantic too! pick a disability, not multiple!”
“well, you're as dumb as a rock. can't have too much in this world, unfortunately.”
a pout makes its way to your features, before suddenly switching into a suspicious frown when you see a small smile creeping on his face.
wait...you're as dumb as a rock?
“oh...?” your face immediately looks up at him. “and how much do you love this stupid rock exactly...?”
seeing that you finally caught on his antics, a heart-fluttering chuckle escapes his lips, his eyes shut in amusement as your heart beat quickens at the melodious sound.
“a lot—as in more than anything in this world.”
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RIN ignores you. acts like you never spoke in the first place. why? hah, his pride's too high for him to even properly answer that. even if he said something that's relatively joking or teasing, it'd be lying in a way, right? so what purpose would it solve in answering your question? exactly. none. so you get no response, whatsoever.
“rin-chan, answer my question, please?”
radio silence.
“rrrrrrrrrin. rinnnnnn. riiiiiiiiiiin. RIN!”
he still continues on walking, gaze still ahead whilst you struggle to waddle along with his wide strides, opting to grab his arms as to not get left behind.
“itoshi rin! just how much do you love m—”
he places his gloved hand flat against your face, shutting you up as he moves you away from his line of sight. his teal stare still bored and unbothered.
“any louder and you'll attract attention. i don't want paparazzi stuck to us for the rest of the day.”
you narrow your eyes at him as he practically drags you along, legs unable to keep up with his pace. “i don't see how that refrains you from answering my question, though.”
“i won't answer a question you already know the answer to, so shut up.”
you blink twice, swearing you just saw his cheeks go a bit red for a quick second. were you seeing things...?
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KAISER, the mischief, always has to edge you on for a bit before giving you what you want. (🤨📸) it's how he functions as a partner—never failing to be an infuriating piece of shit who gets on your nerves whenever he gets a chance. what makes you think now would be an exception?
“hmm...” he hums with that annoying curl of his lips once more, feigning thoughtfulness. “what do you think?”
“more than you love yourself?” you guess expectantly.
but with how he gasps dramatically at you, all your expectations of the narcissistic king drop like dead flies. your expression must’ve also dropped without you noticing, because now, your asshole of a boyfriend is cackling at you. you mercifully resist the urge to hit his annoyingly pretty face as you pout and face away from him with a huff.
“what’s with that glare? i didn’t mean it, you know.” yet he continues to snicker like a child.
“what did i even expect from you…" you sigh, visibly deflating in disappointment as you stand up to leave. “i’m an idiot.”
“yep, you are for even believing i’d—” wrapping his arms around your frame, he pulls you onto his lap with yet another shit-eating grin of his. “—let you go like that. now gimme a kiss, chuu—”
pushing away his exaggerated puckered lips from your face, still glaring at him. “what do you say first, my liebe?”
he chuckles, half of his face flat against your palm that’s pushing him away. “i’m very sorry. i love you more than anything. well, except my side chicks—” your glare turns into a scowl. “—just kidding! i love you, baby. so much that i’d give up anything in this world just to see you smile.”
removing your hand from his face, you finally let him attack you with his kisses.
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REO smugly raises his black card. well, it would’ve been a lot more cool and impressive if he didn’t practically jump out of the couch in his pajamas and full-on sprinted to his bedroom to fetch it. was he waiting for this question for a long time now?
“…what’s that have to do with—”
“i love you, as much as the amount within this baby right here. if not, then more!” he slaps the who-knows-how-much card onto the coffee table, gazing at you with excitement not much unlike a puppy waiting for the coos and praises of its owner after fetching them a stick.
adorable. so goddamn cute. ahhhhh. you want to rip your hair out.
“how long were you waiting for this moment…?” why does this scene seem so familiar?
"a long time. i saw this while reading one of the romance novels you had, and i just had to do it.” he smiles sheepishly at you. “was my excitement a dead giveaway or…?”
that explains the feeling of deja vu, then. you remember getting giddy over that specific scene. mindlessly, you snort at the fact that this man has more achievements than anyone you’ve ever known yet he’s still trying to impress you. jesus. he’s so…
you lean over to him, grasping his hand in your own. “you know, you look so kissable right now.”
he perks up immediately. “heh—then, don’t mind me if i do.”
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NAGI hums, animatedly tapping away at his game, not sparing you a glance. “would it be bad if i said that question’s a hassle?”
“…? why do you think so?”
“well…you’re only asking that because you want me to say something that’ll uh…make you blush or something right?” he starts, voice remaining bored as ever. “but if i don’t manage to, you’ll be dissatisfied or even use it as leverage to get mad at me to get my attention.”
you frown. “what are you—”
“i don’t mean it in a bad way.” he finally looks at you, a bold ‘victory!’ visible on his phone screen. “it’s not that i’m not willing to indulge you—it’s just that i don’t really know how to be romantic, and i also don’t wanna make you sad so…”
you blink when he performs a beckoning motion with his fingers, silently requesting for you to come near him.
complying with a raised brow, your confusion is immediately replaced by shock, and maybe a tad bit of warmth as the tall boy’s arm wrap themselves around your form, pulling you down with him with a small ‘oof’.
“n—nagi!?” you squirm.
“i love you a lot, [name].” he nuzzles his face onto your hair, his next words a bit muffled as they left his lips. “so don’t get mad at me, please?”
how in the world are you going to get mad at this goddamn sloth when he’s acting like this??
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ISAGI blinks. scanning your face for a moment for any uncertainty or insecurity that might’ve influenced your posed question. but when he finds none, redness takes control of his entire face like a infectious parasite.
“why do you want to know?” his voice is meek, most likely caught off guard by such a direct question.
“just curious.” you reply, smiling at the way he seems so wrapped up in your finger despite it being so loose. “you don’t have to answer though. it’s quite an open question—vague and has a lot of possible answers.”
he stares down at his palm, carefully planning out his next choice of words for your inquiry. he really wants to provide an answer, something that shows he’s completely confident in your relationship. but…
how much he loves you? how is he even going to start?
“i’m not really sure how to put it but,” he starts, determination on his expression as he turns to look at you. “i’m certain i love you a lot. not sure just how much exactly but…”
“if it could go by anything, i think about you so much that my first instinct in the morning is to grab my phone and text you a good morning,” he adds on while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i-i don’t know. was that a good way of putting it? there’s also the fact that i always unconsciously brew two coffees even when we don’t live together, and oh! there’s also that time i—”
too caught up in his mind to recount the times his love had overshadowed his rationality and normalcy, he fails to see the lovestruck gaze given by a certain someone, completely and utterly in love with the man chatting away that you could probably see hearts in those [e/c] irises.
just wait till you start on sharing your side of the relationship.
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BACHIRA grins impishly as he takes out a ruler, pulling down an imaginary board from thin air whilst putting on some nerdy glasses from nowhere. he points the tip of the ruler on an equation, your face now deadpan.
what is he doing…?
“the formula for measuring my love for [name]! note; very easy!”
you snort at his antics, before deciding to play along as you nod for him to continue.
with his ever-present grin, he taps the board with his ruler, adjusting his glasses as if to catch your attention like a typical teacher. “now, [name], can you try to answer this equation for me? these glasses are kinda blurry.”
n-no teaching or guides at all? uhm, okay.
you suck in a breath, gazing at the imaginative board with an unperturbed focus.
[name]’s infinite beauty x [name]’s infinite kindess x [name]’s infinite funniness equals N…what are these variables?
this shouldn’t even be a working equation but if you’re playing with how bachira’s mind works, then…“infinite?”
“yes!" he swoops in lowly and sweeps you off your feet, a yelp escaping your lips as he lifts you up bridal style. “looks like i have to add [name]’s infinite smartness into the equation too, what do you say?”
“whatever you want. but i think i need to mention that infinity isn’t actually a number so i think you’ll have to make a different formula—”
“jokes on you, i won’t let the laws of math deter me from figuring out the estimate of my infinite love!”
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BAROU sneers. making quite an ugly face that forces you to be wary if he’s about to spit in your face or not.
“hah, when and where did you hear that i, the king, loved you, a mere peasant??”
raising a brow at him, you quickly throw a glance at the bouquet of flowers delicately placed onto a polishes and refined vase, the glint of its glassy appearance reminding you who it undoubtedly came from, and whom it was given to.
“at the front of that bakery you like, around 3pm on a sunday a few weeks ago, after i gave you flowers, you replied to my confession by saying—” you’re promptly cut off as an oven mitt is unceremoniously thrown at your face.
“what the hell?” he says breathlessly, letting out an unbelieving scoff as he crosses his arms. like a tsundere. “why do you even remember all that? creep.”
“well, you see, it was the first time king barou had bared his feelings towards me. an extremely rare moment, even though we’re basically dating right now.”
his eye twitches. “WHO THE HELL SAID WE WERE DATING?!”
“eh?” your sarcasm is immediately gone. “you said you loved me back, so i thought that—”
“is that why you’re always in my goddamn house unannounced??” he cuts you off, again.
“it’s kinda late to retract my view of our status now though. your sisters really like me as your lover for some reason.”
he responds with a groan, muttering something about how his soccer is now doomed by some outsider. silly king. he doesn’t even notice that he could always kick you out, yet simply chooses not to.
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no i didn’t add a part where they’d explicitly have to theoretically choose between you or soccer because lets be fr they’d all choose to kick a ball forever over some head
its 3am rn (no beta we die like men) so if theres a few typos or pronoun and grammatical errors that ive missed, please do tell me!
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chigirizzz · 7 months
Text
first kiss
characters: isagi, bachira, sae
gn! reader, not proofread so there might be some mistakes, anxiety attack (bachira's)
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— ISAGI YOICHI
"stop," you told isagi when he approaches you in front of the school.
his smile disappears and he stops beside you, his body turned towards you. you continued to stare straight ahead, focused on the rain that showed no sign of letting up. "huh? what did i do?"
“you’re sick. stay away from me." your behavior didn't change, in fact, you were quite afraid that you were too rude or anything, but any remorse vanished when you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "why are you laughing?!"
"you're funny."
"and you're sick. stay away at least four meters. you know i get sick easily."
"i'll take care of you if that happens."
surprise took over you at his words; isagi yoichi always has been and always will be a pretty awkward guy—something that you didn't mind and in some occasions you found it cute—, which meant he wasn't the best at words, whether he was the one saying them or receiving them. he was more of actions and thoughts, not words.
there were times, however, when isagi yoichi pulled a special card and made your heart feel warm with simple actions or sentences and with absolutely no shyness.
this was one of those times. and as you stare—no, admire him with stars and hearts in your eyes, you feel guilty with how you kept a distance that school day just because he was sick, thinking that he wouldn't be offended. not exactly offended, but he wasn't happy either.
"yoichi…" you said. "i'm sorry. why are you such a good partner…"
he smiled and gave your head a few pats. "you're so silly."
"if i do get sick, make me a chicken soup."
it was an innocent joke, so you didn't expect him to suddenly kiss you. lips on lips for the first time, a moment that you never thought it would be like that. you responded to the kiss. it was a bit awkward since it was both of your first kisses, but it felt good.
afraid that he needed to stop to breathe some air (due to his stuffy nose), you tried to step away, with no vail because his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer to him gently, his lips now more hungry for yours.
he just pulled away when your hand touched his cheek—even if it was a gentle touch, the temperature difference between your warm hand and his cold cheek gave him a little thermal shock.
"now you'll get sick for sure," he says with a smile and pink cheeks.
"idiot. i love you."
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— BACHIRA MEGURU
your legs started running to the boys' restroom as soon as you finished reading the message on your phone; your head filled with worry for your friend who was apparently hiding in one of the stalls having an anxiety attack.
these moments of his fragility were relatively common for you. bachira meguru had you as his best and only friend, so it was normal to notice when his insecurities and his loneliness got the best of him — and the times he got into unnecessary fights.
these were moments you were used to, but they still worried you a lot.
the restroom was quiet and empty, only one of the stalls had its door closed so you figured it was your best friend.
you knocked on the stall door. "bachira? are you here?"
...
"bachi-"
"come in."
you entered the stall as soon as he opened the door. the space was cramped and not very hygienic, which made the boy more suffocated, anxious, but he knew that your presence, although it contributed to a more enclosed space, made him feel safe.
"it's okay, bachira. i'm here, you're safe," you reassured him, your thumb caressing his hand, kneeling in front of him while he sat on the floor with his back against the wall.
"they made fun of me again." his hand now held yours, squeezing it from time to time. a bitter smile took over his lips. "i feel so alone..."
"you're not alone, bachira, you have me and your mother. the others are stupid people who aren't worth it," you said. "remember the exercise we've already done. let's start—five things you can see."
“eh…” he looked around; there wasn’t much inside a school bathroom but you could make it work. “my shoes.”
“and what are your shoes like? analyze them," you told him with a soft tone of voice to help him calm down.
minutes passed. you didn't know how long you and bachira stayed in the restroom but the absence of noise from other students confirmed that you were currently skipping a period. who cares.
you helped the boy with the exercise, occasionally having to imagine objects for him to detect because again, there wasn't much inside a school bathroom…
he was slowly feeling better, and you knew this for sure because when you asked him for the second thing he could smell, he answered piss.
"it's true though~," he teased you and his nose sniffed. his eyes were getting less red.
"yeah but i don't want to think about urine right now, meg." a sight escaped your lips; nevertheless, his answer didn't actually bother you, you enjoyed his jokes even if sometimes made you question his sanity. "let's just move on."
"ok~ what's next?"
"one thing you can taste."
"watch me lick the toilet!"
"no!" you flicked his forehead to which he just giggled. "there must be something in here you can try. let me check my backpack."
"no need, y/n."
you faced him confused, hands inside your backpack trying to find a snack. "why not? we're almost done—"
you felt a pair of hands grabbing your shoulders and being pulled forward—face to face to bachira, to be precise.
"because i think i know what i want to taste. it's in front of me right now." his low voice and vibrant yellow colored eyes made you at a loss for words. he was so close to you, closer than he has already been, that you could feel your skin tingle, legs slightly weak and your chest moving up and down slowly. what… "do i have the permission to kiss you, y/n?" he asked, thumb brushing your lower lip.
"i…" oh god. "yeah." you nodded.
and so he did.
despite his confession and gaze being gentle, the kiss was the complete opposite. his lips literally crushed into yours, the sudden force of his body making your back slamming into the stall door—and his reaction? he smirked.
you weren't sure if it was his first kiss, but since he never told you about his romantic life, you assumed it was. in fact, something tells you that the boy practiced his kissing skills on a mirror to try on you later on.
it was also your first kiss, so you couldn't judge.
your hand is now between the back of his neck and the back of his head, lightly pulling and playing with his hair.
everything was going well, so well it took you a few seconds to notice the hot tears falling down his cheeks.
"meguru, what's wrong?" your hand caressed his cheek. "are you ok? is something wrong?"
"i love you. i love you so much," he cries and rests his head on top of your chest. "thank you for being there for me."
"awn, i love you too." you played with his hair gently, fingers fixing the knots on his hair. "and i'll always be there to protect you."
"promise?"
"promise."
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— ITOSHI SAE
itoshi sae wasn't the easiest person to put up with, which is why you were extremely confused when he first confessed to you and asked you on a date like it was nothing. still, in your five months of dating, you didn't regret anything. you loved him, he loved you.
however, there was something bothering you: you never kissed each other. but calm down, the issue wasn't exactly "he never kissed me"— the issue was that itoshi sae once told you he wanted your first kiss as a couple to be magnificent, magical and capable of leaving everyone's jaws on the floor. 
it made you wonder for weeks how the kiss would be. it made you wonder so much for so long you eventually thought he forgot about it.
boy were you wrong.
sae didn't lie when he said he wanted it to be magical and leave everyone's jaw on the floor. 
it happened at the end of one of his games, he scored the final goal and as soon the end of the match was announced, he ran towards you—you who were watching the whole time wearing his jersey, shouting his name—and kissed you slowly but passionately in front of everyone—his team, the opposite team, the fans, the cameras, everyone.
although your boyfriend always preferred a private relationship, he also wanted to show the world how much he could love someone. there was a bit of possessiveness on him.
there was a bit of possessiveness on him, as his lips left yours so they could kiss your neck, not caring how much it tickled you. 
he then kissed your cheek and left without saying anything; there wasn't anything to be said, but the media for sure will say a lot of things.
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dulcesiabits · 3 months
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you arrive like a dream.
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summary: you are fourteen years old when bachira breaks your heart, and you run halfway across the world to avoid him. so how are you supposed to react when the universe, against all your express wishes, brings the two of you back together again?
notes: 14k words, fic, author's notes, childhood friends, childhood heartbreak, messy relationships, really kind of a study of how people fall apart and then get back together
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“I want to take a break from us.”
It’s the first thing your boyfriend says to you, barely waiting for the waitress to set down your order and clear away your laminated menus before speaking.
Instead of responding, you take a long sip of your milkshake, whipped cream sinking into a chocolate sea, your mouth flooding with sweetness. You regard the boy across from you thoughtfully, the one you’ve been dating for six months ever since he confessed to you during a school dance. He’s not the only boy you’ve ever dated in America, but he’s the one you’ve dated the longest. 
Most American boys seem to regard you with a mixture of curiosity and fascination as an exchange student from Japan. The kinder ones try not to treat you any differently than they would from your other classmates, but the worse ones will make constant jokes about hentai and mock your faint accent. 
By this point, though, you’ve learned to tune out the insults and the passive aggressive comments. You’ve always been good at dealing with other people, knowing how to read the mood and adjusting your behavior accordingly. Your teachers often praised you for being so well-behaved and conscientious. 
The meaner boys treat you like a zoo animal precisely because they want to see your reaction, so it’s better not to give them the reaction that they want. Otherwise, the second they sense hurt, they’ll sink their teeth in and never let go. Of course, they don’t seem to realize that in the same way they observe you, you can observe them right back. 
As for your boyfriend, Thomas? Well. He does his best. Or at least you think he does his best. No one mocks you to his face when he’s around, and he valiantly tells people to “knock it off” whenever he thinks you feel uncomfortable. He’s sweet, if a little obtuse, and you like him well enough. You wouldn’t date him if you didn’t. But his confession had been so out of the blue, and you had no real reason to accept him– just like you didn’t have any real reason to reject him. 
In short, your relationship started on an ambivalent whim. He’s not the sort of person you can share your thoughts with, but it’s not as if you’re looking for a lifelong companionship. He’s mild, and nice to be around, which is just what you need after everything that happened to you in Japan. He’s just like the whipped cream slowly disappearing into your milkshake in that aspect.
Your boyfriend calls your name. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want me… to explain?” Thomas says softly. 
You’ve been staring into space for too long, and your milkshake is half-empty. You smile at him. “No, it’s fine. A break, right? I understand.”
“I don’t want this to be permanent. It doesn’t have to be,” Thomas says, running a hand through his shorn blond hair. “It’s just soccer season is kicking up again, and I won’t have a lot of time to spend with you. I didn’t want you to feel abandoned, or anything. And I want to focus on practice. So…” He looks at you like a kicked puppy, as if you’re the one breaking up with him, and not the other way around. “We can date again once the season is over.”
“Okay,” you say, dragging your straw through your softening milkshake. “Let’s see what happens at the end of the season.”
Thomas perks up. “Great! Do you want anything else to eat? It’s my treat.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Thomas says.
Milkshakes are no remedies for break-ups, but you bite your tongue. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Thomas flags down the waitress, a freckled and red-haired girl who lets her stare linger a little too long. Not that you can blame her; he is cute. But Thomas, good old oblivious Thomas, only smiles innocently in return. 
Maybe you should get jealous. Pull some American teen movie line and say that “he’s your man” and put her in her place, or something equally dramatic like that. But he’s not really “your man” anymore, is he? Besides, staring is free, and, as you often hear, this is a free country. 
By the time the two of you are out of the diner, Thomas is pulling you into a hug. You limply wrap one arm around his back. “See you later,” he whispers. “You can still call me if anything happens, okay?”
Should you remind him of the international fees that it would take for him to call you Japan? “Okay.” 
You’re still standing outside the diner when Thomas waves at you through the windows of his car and pulls away from the curb. Maybe you should have asked for a ride, but getting a ride with your now-ex is a little weird. The weather is clear and the sunshine warm, so it’s a mild enough spring day for you to walk back. You’d prefer the walk, anyways, compared to the awkward silence in Thomas’s stifling truck.
Halfway down the pavement, your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out: it’s your mom. There’s a seventeen hour time difference between California and Japan, and the international fees of a phone call are exorbitant, but your mom has never cared much about finances. “Money is there for you to spend it,” she always claims. Easy enough for her to say when she runs an investment firm that rakes in enough yen for her to send you abroad.
“Hello, Okaa-san,” you say when you open your phone. 
“Hello,” she coos. “Good morning! Ah, wait. It’s afternoon for you, right?”
“It’s afternoon, and you’re a day ahead of me,” you confirm.
“Oho! I forgot! So you’re talking to a time traveler right now,” she says.
“Seems so. Have any news from the future?”
“You’re going on spring break next week, right?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond before barreling on. “Why don’t you fly home to Japan for the holidays?” your mom says. “I’m already booking the tickets.”
“Why’d you even ask if you were going to do it for me?” 
“Just because you always tell me you hate it when I do things without telling you. So I’m alerting you in advance,” she chirps.
You sigh. “Okay. Send me the ticket details when you’re done.”
You can imagine your mom’s grin over the phone. “Perfect! By the way, I ran into Yu-san a little while ago. We talked about how much you used to love her art lessons! Do you remember how you used to beg to spend extra time at Yu-san’s studio?”
You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, the sunshine suddenly searing your neck. You fight to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. I do. Why?”
“Well, then we started talking about Meguru-kun. You always bugged me about when he could come over and play. You were such a mild-mannered child, but as soon as you saw Meguru-kun, you would just get so wild. I’d never seen you have so much fun. I swear, it was so cute.”
“Okaa-san,” you say faintly, but she continues on.
“Since it’s been so long since you were back in Japan, Yu-san and I thought it would be nice if the two of you could see each other again, so we arranged a little meeting for the four of us. Won’t it be nice to catch up with your childhood friend over dinner? There’s no need to thank me.”
There really isn’t. You gape like an open-mouthed fish after your mom’s triumphant little speech, thoughts scattering like bubbles on the surface of a pond.
“Does Meguru know that you’ve done this?” you say. It’s the only question that manages to escape. His first name feels like ash in your mouth. When did you last use it? 
“Yu-san told him right away. I think she said he was excited to see you!”
“That’s… great,” you say. “I have to go now, Okaa-san. I have something to do. I’ll see you when I fly back.”
“Okay. Love you!”
With a cheerful blip, your mom ends the call and you sink to your knees, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes. Shit. This is going to be the worst possible way to spend your spring break. Thomas is one thing, but Bachira? No way. There is absolutely no way in hell you can face him again.
You might have gotten along back in Japan, running around Chiba together as children, but it’s been years since then. Maybe if you were two regular childhood friends, you would jump with joy at the opportunity to see him. If you didn’t have the particular history you did, this would have been a pleasant surprise. But you two don’t have that sort of relationship anymore, and the thought of Bachira makes old wounds flare to life.
You can’t blame your mom for not knowing, not really. You’ve mentioned your American boyfriends here and there, but you tend to keep a tight lid on your love life, as you’ve always been her pristine, studious child. You try not to make it a habit to keep secrets from your mom.
In fact, the only secret you’ve ever kept from her is that Bachira Meguru broke your heart when you were fourteen years old. 
You have always wanted to be the perfect child for your mom.
Ever since you could remember, your afternoons and weekends were full of different lessons, from piano to dance, and English to math tutoring. Your mom cooed with excitement at all your new hobbies, demanding you show her every time you learned a new musical piece or math equation. You charged headfirst into whatever skill you could learn to mold yourself into a well-rounded adult, so no one could find a way to look down on your mom. All of her business associates patted you on the head and spoke indulgently at you. As if you couldn’t sense the way they viewed you as an extension of your mom, and a way to judge her.
Art lessons, however, were when your life took a sudden, unexpected turn.
You remembered this: you were eight, and it was a cool spring day during your very first lesson, and Bachira-san had given you free reign of the canvas, handing you a palette and a brush. Her lessons always took place in her studio, the door open to let in the breeze, sunlight sinking into stacks of piled canvas and painting supplies placed haphazardly on every free surface.
You stared up at Bachira-san with a frown, looking uncertainly in her smiling face. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked.
“Whatever you want,” she replied, ruffling the top of your head. You gave a squeak of protest. 
“But what do you want?” you persisted. 
“I want you to do whatever you want,” Bachira-san said with a grin. “Why don’t I give you some space to paint? I’ll come back in a little bit, ‘kay?”
And so Bachira-san had left you in front of a canvas, your frown growing as you dipped a brush into the green paint. Incomprehensible. The adults in your life always had such clear expectations for you, and Bachira-san’s instructions feel like she just handed you a blank map and told you to chart unexplored territory. 
You dragged a tentative, watery streak of green on the bright white canvas, but it looked ugly and intrusive. You’d marred the pristine surface already.
Something brushed your foot. You looked down to see a football rolling across the wooden floor of the studio, and not a second later, the small head of a child peeking around the corner of the door. 
“Kaa-san! I’m back– eh? Who are you?”
The boy approached you curiously. There was a bandage on his face, and streaks of dirt running down his legs and striping his cheeks.
“Who are you?” you demanded, brandishing your brush like a sword. “I’m having an art lesson right now.”
Undeterred, the boy tilted his head like a giant chipmunk. “Art lesson? This is where Kaa-san works.”
“Huh…” Your teacher must be his mom, and he must be her son, you deduced. 
Seemingly losing interest, the boy ran after the football, which had lodged in the corner. With a few swift kicks, the boy skilfully bounced it up on his knee, his elbow, and his head. It was just like the seals you saw once at the aquarium, who could perform the same tricks for a few fish as incentive.
“Hey! Can you play football?” the boy said suddenly, turning back to you with the ball balanced precariously on his head.
“Football? I can’t play. I have to study art.”
“But that’s boring… Wait!” The boy brightened as he lurched towards you, wrestling the brush from your grasp. You watched in horror as the boy slashed the brush across the canvas, dipping randomly into the paint, creating an incomprehensible mess of lines and paint splatters. “Done! Now you can play with me.”
You shoved him, as hard as you could, and the boy toppled to the floor, his football bouncing sadly into a pile of canvas. “What are you doing? You– you ruined it!”
“I helped you,” the boy protested. He leaped up into the air, regarding you quizzically. “Kaa-san paints like that all the time.”
“Bachira-san– Bachira-san is a real artist! You can’t just– argh!” You stumbled at him, annoyed, tiny fists swinging, but the boy only dodged out of the way.
A grin splitted his face. “Are we playing now? Yay!”
You don’t know how long this chase lasted. All you knew was that you wanted to wipe that unbearably happy look from his face after he ruined your lesson, because how on earth could you explain this to Bachira-san? But the boy only danced around, laughing as you tried to lunge at him, always just one step away from you.
You weren’t unathletic, but the boy had stamina on another level, because while you sweated and panted, hands on your knees, he only skipped in circles around you. “Hey,” the boy said. “Are you done already? Come on. Let’s play some more.”
How annoying! How super, super annoying! You gave a great yell as you jumped at him, and, startled, the boy couldn’t move away fast in enough time. The two of you crashed onto the floor, rolling and tumbling. You pulled at his hair and the boy grabbed at your cheeks.
“I’m back! Are you done with– Meguru? Kiddo?”
The two of you froze as Bachira-san stepped into the studio, a plate of cookies in her hand. The two of you watched her with big silent eyes as she surveyed the room. And, for the first time, you realized that you had knocked over some of her paint tubes and canvas, and the two of you were covered in streaks of paint and dust from the floor.
You sprang up as Bachira-san moved closer to the canvas you were supposed to paint on– the one her son had ruined. Your hands were clammy as you lowered your head, like a criminal readying for their punishment.
“Hey, nice artwork, kiddo,” Bachira-san said, breaking into a smile. “Very avante-garde.”
“He… he was the one who did it,” you mumbled, face heating up with shame, pointing at the boy– Meuguru– who was still on the floor. 
He stuck out his tongue. “I only helped!”
“Well, the both of you did a great job,” Bachira-san said. 
“Really…?” you mumbled, looking down at your black shoes, now scraped and scuffed from your scuffle across the floor. 
“Yes, really! Why don’t the two of you have some snacks?”
The three of you munched on cookies for the rest of the lesson as Bachira-san explained the color palette and different forms of art to you. Meguru gifted you the very last cookie with a beaming expression on his face as if you hadn’t tried to tear his hair out, and you thanked him quietly. 
During your next lesson, Meguru was waiting by the entrance of the studio. When he saw you, a goofy smile stole across his face, and he bounded towards you like a puppy.
“Here!” He thrust some flowers into your face. They were small and white, with five different petals. You took them gingerly. 
“What are these for?” you asked.
“For you! So we can be friends! I had a lot of fun with you last time, but you didn’t look really happy. Kaa-san said I have to be aware of other people’s feelings, so this is a ‘let’s be friends’ flower!” 
“You want to be friends with me?” you mumbled.
“Yup! No take backs,” Meguru added. “We’re friends for life now, okay?”
 “Are you sure?” you said. “Yesterday I was rude to you.”
“Were you?” Meguru tilted his head. “Does that matter?”
“I was. I’m sorry,” you said.
“We’re friends! So it’s okay. Hey, this time, you’ll play football with me, right?”
He grabbed your hand, and you carefully wrapped your fingers around his. For some reason, there was a strange fluttering in your chest. Why did holding Meguru’s hand feel a little different from holding your mom’s, or your friend’s hand at school? 
But all you know is this: ever since you took Meguru’s hand that day, you don’t think you’ve ever really let go.
You haven’t stepped foot in Japan for three years.
There’s always been an excuse not to: you were busy with studying. You had clubs and other activities. It would be too much of a hassle, and really, you wanted to enjoy every minute abroad you could get.
Your mom bought your excuses easily, so you never had to tell her the real reason you stayed away, the same reason you even bothered to study abroad in the first place: you didn’t want to be in the same country as Bachira Meguru.
But when your plane descends and jolts to a stop, when you pass through customs and scramble to find your luggage at the baggage claim, when you take that first wobbly step into the spring sunshine, squinting into the sky as you raise your hand to shield your eyes, you have no more excuses left. It’s like the universe won’t let you run away, because why the hell does Golden Week fall during the same week during your American spring break? Bachira is on break, same as you, so you can’t even use the excuse that he’s in school to avoid him. It’s a coincidence, or the universe is laughing at you for thinking you could get away so easily.
You pause to scroll through your phone; there’s a few messages from your mom, and an email from Thomas. You hover over the message with your thumb, before swiping away. You told him to email you if he needed you, since it’s not like he had Line or Whatsapp, but you didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.
Everyone is speaking in rushed Japanese around you. It’s a sea of people with black hair and black eyes and luggage and appointments and harried expressions, hurrying in every direction. This is home. America has never felt more far away.
You wander to the edge of the curb, phone still held loosely to your ear as a car pulls up. Your mom rolls down the side window, scarf around her throat and a grin wide on her face. “Hello, hello. Look who’s decided to show up on our side of the globe again.”
“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” you acknowledge. 
The driver steps out to put your luggage in the trunk, and your mom rests her arm against the window. “How was your flight?”
“It was fine,” you say. “It’s not that far from California to Japan.”
“Perfect! So I assume you’ll be ready for dinner in a few hours?”
“Dinner?”
“Well, there’s this wonderful seafood restaurant I wanted to take Yu-san to, and Meguru-kun is free, so we planned our little get-together for today.” Your mom winks, but you feel as if someone pushed you off the airplane without a parachute. Actually, you’d have preferred that to whatever torture this is.
“Okaa-san, I can’t,” you protest, taking a step back. “I just got back. I’m tired. I–”
“Nonsense! It’s just some dinner. Aren’t you excited to see Meguru-kun?”
You force a queasy smile. “But I need to get ready. I want to shower and–”
“Then we can stop by home before we go to dinner. It’s not as if we’re going right now. Come, come. Hop in the car. The sooner we get back, the more time you’ll have to freshen up.”
The next few hours pass by in a weightless blur. You turn the water as hot as it can go and stand under the thundering steam until your fingers turn pruny. You pick out a tasteful outfit, decide you’re trying too hard, and settle for something casual, but then it feels like you’re not trying hard enough. This goes back and forth for half an hour until you throw on the first thing you picked out of your closet.
It almost feels like you’re getting ready for a date, and the thought makes you want to laugh hysterically.
When you’re done, you flop onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You haven’t been in this room for years, and there’s no dust, but it feels like a graveyard, a testament to a different time. There are faded patches of discolored paint on the wall where you once hung up photos of you and Bachira, and empty spots on your shelves where the plastic toys he won for you at summer fairs had once stood. You forgot where you put those old trinkets. They’re either shoved in a box in the back of your closet, or buried in a garbage heap.
Your mom calls your name. “Time to go! Are you ready?”
You’re not. You never will be, but you descend down the stairs and get into the car. You still feel weightless. Dread is the only thing propelling you forward, and it grows heavier with each passing step, weighing you down with its leaden mass.
The restaurant is all polished glass and cool blue tones, so you feel like you’re standing underwater when you step inside. The tablecloths are pressed, the menus so new and shiny you think you could cut yourself on their edges. You’re scurried off to a corner table, next to a painting of the ocean, layered with many painful shades of blue, the frothy white waves so textured you could lick it off like cream.
You order something. You’re not sure what, but the waiter is smiling at your choice.
“Yu-san is running a bit late,” your mom says, with her bright red lipstick which always looks elegant on her and never tacky. You feel childish, all of a sudden, trying to play at being a composed adult, next to her and her genuine enthusiasm for old family friends.
You hope Bachira and his mom never get here. Because of a traffic jam, perhaps. Or a sudden freak accident that cuts off their path, so they have to stay home. Or maybe they’ll just forget, and you can call the whole thing a wash.
“Ah, there she is! Yu-san! Meguru-kun!” Your mom waves wildly, her arm springing back and forth.
Against your will, you turn, biting the inside of your cheek hard. They’re both in street clothes, which sends a dull jolt of surprise through you, but then again, your old teacher has never been one for formalities. You focus hard on her instead of the boy next to her, never taking your eyes off her once as they both settle at the table. Your mom hugs Bachira-san, and they both giggle like schoolgirls. There’s paint on Bachira-san’s sleeves, faint splatters of red and blue and purple. Her hair is in a bun, pulled low.
She reaches out for you, and you melt into her embrace. She smells like paint, like salt water, with an artificial floral scent from her shampoo. “It’s been so long! You’ve gotten so much bigger. Have you been keeping up with your art?”
“I still sketch sometimes,” you say. “But I’ve been busy.”
Bachira-san laughs, a charming sound like windchimes. “Ah, so my lessons weren’t totally wasted! I’d love to see what you’ve been sketching. America has been nice to you, I see.”
You’ve chewed your cheek for too long. The sharp copper of blood fills your mouth like new pennies, and you manage to work your lips into the shape of a smile. “It’s been fun studying abroad.”
And then Bachira calls your name, and you feel like you’re fourteen again, getting your heart broken for the first time. “Hey, hey!” he says cheerfully. “Long time no see!”
You fight to maintain your smile. You can’t look him directly in the eye, so you look somewhere over his shoulder. Has his hair gotten longer? It looks like his mom had tried to tame his bangs with clips. “Hi. It has been a long time.” There. You even sound like you’re happy to see him.
Bachira and his mom order. She and your mom are drinking glasses of red wine, absorbed in their own world, so it’s just you and Bachira. He’s tearing his napkin into little pieces, a miniature blizzard that only grows in intensity with each ticking second. You’re both silent. Is he feeling just as nervous as you? Or are you the only one idiotically aware of the tension? Maybe he doesn’t even notice at all.
“Meguru-kun is on his school’s soccer team?” your mom asks suddenly, forcing the two of you to look at her. “That’s amazing! I heard you want to go to nationals.”
“Yup yup!” Bachira says. “It’s fun to play with everyone.”
“That’s great!” Your mom nudges you with her elbow. “This one over here is juggling a ton of different clubs in America, too. A math team, and a science one, and an art club on top of it, I think.”
Bachira is looking at you now. You stare hard at your glass of water, avoiding his eyes. The silence grows, stretching between the two of you, taut as a wire. Your mom looks back and forth between the two of you, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.
You stand. “Okaa-san, I think I need a bit of a break. I’m still dizzy from my flight,” you say politely, flawlessly. You smile at Bachira-san and your mom, and throw a fuzzy look in Bachira’s direction.
“Are you? I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Do you–”
“I just need some air,” you say, still smiling as you back away from the table. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”
You flee before anyone can respond, pushing through the doors and into the dizzying sunlight. It’s a coward’s move, but so what? You’ve never pretended to be strong. Your go-to is to put on a smile and smooth over any situation. It’s better not to rock the boat. It’s better to just keep everyone happy– but you can’t do that now. You can’t do this, not now, not in front of Bachira Meguru. 
You look up and down the streets, disoriented as you stumble to a stop. Where are you? The restaurant is at the end of the block, and you’ve somehow paced down the entire length of the street in your desire to escape. This is a high-end area with exclusive fashion stores and exorbitant restaurants, and their polished facades only make you feel smaller and uglier.
You sigh. Maybe it would be better to go home, to leave now before you worry anyone further. You would just ascribe all blame to your plane flight, and no one would be any wiser.
Just as you make up your mind, you see a figure blurring down the street, dashing at an impossibly high speed– a blur of yellow, no, a boy, running straight towards you– alarmed, you try to move to the side, but then he screeches to a stop right in front of you.
It’s Bachira. Shit shit shit— But then he abruptly spins around until all you can see is his back and the way his hair sticks up at the ends, perpetually untamable.
“What are you doing?” you say, irritated. Is this another one of his childish pranks?
“You don’t want to see me, right?” he says, more quietly than you thought he was capable of. 
“I–”
“This way, you won’t have to look at me. Is that okay?”
“So?” you say. “What you do has nothing to do with me.”
“Let’s talk.”
“I don’t want to,” you say petulantly. You flush; why does Bachira bring out your inner child? “There’s nothing for us to say,” you add more coldly.
“I miss you.” The world, in its perpetual motion, freezes for just an instant at his words. Planets stop their revolutions. The tectonic plates pause. Everything slows down, to this single moment in time and space.
You can only manage to faintly say, “So what?” The world resumes spinning again.
“I want to talk to you again,” he says. 
“I don’t care,” you say again.
“I’ll bug you if you don’t come see me again,” he says. “I’ll blow up your phone. I’m gonna send you a ton of mail. I’ll even go to your house and–”
“Stop!” you snap. “You sound like a stalker. Bachira, you know things can’t move backwards, right? We can only go forward. And I don’t want to act buddy buddy with you again.”
“One chance. Pleaseeee. Come on. If you talk with me just once, I won’t bother you again! I promise! Otherwise I’m going to call you! Every! Single! Day!”
You sigh. With the way Bachira is, you have no doubt that he would make good on his threat, no matter how childish or ridiculous he sounds right now. Just once. You could talk to him just once. Besides, this way, you could get rid of all your lingering feelings, and it’d be the same relief of a loose, bothersome baby tooth finally falling out of your mouth.
“Fine. I’ll see you just once. But!” you add, raising your voice before he can throw his hands up in the air in joy. “I decide when and where we will meet.”
“Yay!” Bachira whoops, waving his arms. “Let’s go back, then!”
“Go back where?”
“To the restaurant, duh. The food arrived. I was supposed to tell you that, actually. Oops!”
It would be so easy to just go home right now. But… you glance at the back of Bachira’s hair again. He’s grown taller. And despite his antsy movements, shifting back and forth on his feet, he still hasn’t turned back to look at you once, keeping his ridiculous promise.
“Fine. Lead the way,” you say grudgingly. Your steps feel light as you stare at Bachira, following him all the while, but he still doesn’t look back at you.
At the table, your mom smiles at you. “Feeling better?”
“A little,” you respond. The next time you look at Bachira, you finally meet him in the eye, and his smile lights up his face, just like it did when you were little, the sun rising to sweep the world in light and color.
Art lessons with Bachira-san quickly became your favorite thing in the world.
Maybe it was because she never demanded unerring perfection from you, nor did she treat you like a little doll. She delighted in every advancement you made with art, no matter how messy or imperfect. She treated you like you already had things worth saying, and listened to you babble about anything on your mind.
But as much as you loved those things, what you most loved about art lessons with Bachira-san was her son, Meguru.
At some point in the afternoon, he would inadvertently drag you away from your canvas for an adventure through the neighborhood. Bachira-san never seemed to care, and would even encourage you to leave your pastels behind and pick up a stick to be a sword, as long as you had finished drawing at least one thing that you liked.
So, in those perfect sunny afternoons, you would poke at bugs, digging worms out of the dirt and following ants back to their nest and lifting up rocks to watch rollie pollies curl up. You would climb trees, always trying to outrace each other and get to the tallest branch. You would pretend to be pirates and adventurers, clamoring up and down the slides on the park, searching for treasure.
Mostly, though, Bachira wanted to play football.
“You gotta kick it like this! And that!” he cheered, dribbling the ball back and forth between his feet in lithe, swift steps.
“Huh?” you said, trying to keep up with his movements. You always did well during your elementary school’s sports meet, but Meguru was on another level. 
“No, no! More like this!” Meguru said, and kicked the ball high in the air, only to catch it with his knee. 
“I’ll try,” you said. 
“Yay! Then let’s play a few games, okay?”
And you played, not because you particularly loved football, like Meguru did, but because you liked it when he smiled. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. Why would you need anything else? The boundaries of your world began and ended with his hand in yours.
Bachira-san would let him sit in on your lessons on slow days, too, even though he would invariably end up doodling on your canvas instead of his.
“Use your own paper, Meguru!” you retorted as Meguru scribbled a lumpy shadow onto the corner of your sketchpad. “This one is mine!”
“Eh? But we’re friends! So I can draw on yours!”
And then the two of you bickered playfully until you ended up doodling all over each other’s works, which Bachira-san then dubbed a “collaborative masterpiece,” and hung up the pictures side by side on a corkboard in her studio. It made your heart flutter to see the papers fluttering like friends.
Other times, Meguru would wander off in the middle of your lesson after drawing to his heart’s content, grabbing the football that was perpetually by his side.
“I’m done,” Meguru said, throwing down his colored pencil. There was a strange red creation on his page, some machine with a thousand different blue and green buttons and square windows. It had dragon wings and a boat’s rudder, and soared through scribbled stars and over choppy turquoise waves.
“What is that?” you asked him.
“A car that can fly across the ocean,” Meguru explained. “I’m gonna drive it up to pick up all my favorite football players, and there’s gonna be a stadium in it, and we’re all gonna play football together!”
“Can I come, too?”
“Duh! You can sit in the pilot seat with me. That’s why I made it so big,” he said, before dribbling his football out the studio door.
Even if he wandered off, Meguru would always rejoin the two of you on time for lunch. He had some sort of sixth sense for the moment Bachira-san started passing out snacks, peeking his head (sometimes with twigs or dirt scattered in his hair) around the studio door, cheerfully announcing, “I’m home!”
“Welcome back, Meguru! You’re just in time for a snack,” Bachira-san said, sweeping her hands at the row of pudding cups on the table. You were sitting quietly in a chair, posture straight, methodically scooping out every last bit of pudding with your spoon.
“Pudding! It’s pudding time,” Meguru exclaimed cheerfully at the sight of the snacks, running up to the table to snatch up several cups and a spoon in his chubby hands. 
“Meguru! Leave some for your friend!” Bachira-san scolded lightly, and Meguru would come running right back to you. 
“Here,” he said, dropping a cup in front of you.
Meguru could never sit still, so your eyes were inevitably drawn to him as he danced around the room, running from corner to corner and shoving pudding into his mouth so fast his cheeks puffed out like a small animal’s. Whenever he caught your eye he would stick out his tongue, and you would stick out your tongue in return. When there was only one pudding cup left on the table, you reached for it, before turning to Meguru. 
“Have this,” you said, handing him the pudding cup, which Meguru had been eying with a wide open mouth and sparkling eyes.
“Yay! Thanks!” he said. “Let’s share it!”
“I saved it for you, though.”
Meguru shook his head as he unpeeled the cap, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of the shiny, golden treat. “Well, I want you to have some, too.”
There was no better pudding in the world than the spoonfuls you had that day, Meguru graciously proffering the very last bite for you to eat. The memory of that sweetness resounded through your dreams. 
Even your mom had gotten used to your chattering about Meguru. He was your favorite topic, and nothing was ever quite as important or interesting as him. As soon as your mom’s car pulled up to the curb at the end of your lessons, you would clamber inside, your artwork for the day clutched tightly in your hands, and a new story about Meguru on your lips.
“Okaa-san, Okaa-san,” you said brightly. “Guess what Meguru did today?”
“Let me guess,” your mom said playfully as the driver pulled away from the curb. “The two of you played together?”
“Yup! This time, we pretended to be monkeys living in the trees! And then we got into a monkey war! And we threw a bunch of sticks at each other, and Bachira-san let us eat bananas for a snack! And we kept trying to peel them like monkeys, too.”
“How exciting! I didn’t realize I was taking a monkey home with me today,” your mom replied. “Are you having fun with your art lessons?”
“I’m having a lot of fun, Okaa-san. I’m learning a lot!” You squirmed in your seat. “Oh! But you have to hear about what Meguru did!”
You didn’t know if your mom ever got tired of you chattering on and on about Meguru. If she did, she never let it show, and she watched you with gentle eyes the whole time you talked. 
“You act differently around Meguru-kun,” she said.
“Is that bad?” you asked anxiously, suddenly alert.
She smiled. “No, not at all. Everyone has different sides to them. But I’m glad you’re good friends with him. You talk about him all the time.”
You fiddled with your fingers, feeling strangely pleased and shy all at once. Meguru always stirred unknown emotions in you. “I just like him a lot!”
“Enough to marry him?” your mom teased.
Your face brightened at her words; you hadn’t even realized that was an option. But it was such a great idea. If you married Meguru, then the two of you could be together forever. It just made a lot of sense; who else in the world would you rather spend your entire life with? No one else could compare to your best friend. If you lived in the same house, then you could have sleepovers everyday, and never be separated. “I do!”
Your mom laughed. “Does he want to marry you, though? You can’t decide that on your own!”
“He will if I ask him,” you explained. “He doesn’t say no to me.”
Your mom laughed even harder at that, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “So he’ll do whatever you say? That sounds very sweet of him.” 
However, one memory from this period of time stood out to you, clearer than the rest. You would dream about it, taking it down from a shelf to blow off the dust and stare into its depths.
It was a hot spring day, about a year after you had started art lessons, and Meguru stumbled into the studio with bruises on his face and scrapes on his knees. He had been gone for most of the afternoon, which had disappointed you slightly, but you knew you would see him again. However, you never imagined it would be like this.
“Meguru!” You ran to him, watercolor brush dropping to the paint splattered floor, stopping to grab his shoulders in concern. “Are you okay? Do I need to get Bachira-san?”
Meguru shook his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “No.” 
“What happened?” you asked urgently. “You’re hurt!” 
Ushering him to a seat, you ran to the sink and grabbed a towel, running it under a gush of cold water, before returning and dabbing at Meguru’s wounds as gently as you could. Blood came away in thin streaks like paint. 
“Hey…” Meguru began quietly, in a small voice. He didn’t sound like the cheerful boy you knew, the one who was never phased and bounced off from every mistake and accident with a bright smile. It reminded you a little of how, when you were driving home after lessons, you would peek back at Meguru. His figure looked a little lonely outlined against the sunset, as he bounced a soccer ball quietly to himself. 
“What is it?” You ran back to the sink, where you opened the cabinet underneath it to fish out some bandaids. 
“We’re friends, right?” Meguru asked. 
“Huh? Where’s this coming from? Of course we are. What else would I be?” 
Meguru looked down at his knees as you slapped a bandaid on his skinned knees without a complaint. 
“So you don’t think I’m weird, right?” he said, and his lips quivered with each word. “You’re not gonna leave me?” 
“You’re not weird,” you said firmly. It occurred to you, then, that Meguru never talked about anyone in his life outside of you and Bachira-san. You hadn’t seen him with any other kids your age, either. Maybe you were his whole world, in the same way he was yours. “You’re my best friend, and I would never leave you. If you’re worried about it, then we could get married.” 
“Married?” Meguru peeked at you from under the fringe of his bangs. 
“So we can be together forever,” you explained. 
Meguru smiled, just a little, a wobbly uplifting of his mouth. “Okay! Pinky-promise me, then! We’re gonna get married.”
You lifted up your hand and, with all the clumsy reverence of a child, locked pinkies with Meguru. You shook once, twice, and then let go, as if this was a ceremony as solemn as a real wedding. 
“What happened, though, Meguru? Are you sure it’s okay if I don’t get Bachira-san?” 
Meguru shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because we have each other, right?” 
You beamed at him, sunshine spilling in your chest, a golden glow. “Right. We’ll always have each other!”
Over the next few days, Bachira’s promise hangs over you like a darkening cloud, slowly threatening rain. 
It’s not like you forgot what you told him. You would contact him, eventually. But there was a time and place for everything, and this required more delicate care than anything you’ve undertaken so far. Besides, when you look at your phone screen, you feel a flush of embarrassment. You’ve never been able to bring yourself to block Bachira’s contact, and you still know his number by heart. 
When you first moved to America, a small, foolish part of you thought that he would contact you eventually. He would come running back to you, unable to stand the distance any longer. In your most unbearable, romantic daydreams, he would fly over to California and beg you to go home to Japan with him. But the weeks passed, and you entertained desperate thoughts each time you saw the lack of notifications on your phone screen.
You should message him first. No, you should call him. Or call Bachira-san instead, and learn more about Bachira through her. Or you could show up at one of his football games, and Bachira would be overcome by emotion and throw his arms around you and everything would be repaired, as easy as that. 
But your dreams were nothing compared to the overwhelming silence of reality. No, it was better to find a way to bury the memory of Bachira, and find someone else. There were so many people in the world, and maybe you had been too distracted to realize that, out there, there was someone more perfect and wonderful for you. That’s how you found yourself dating Thomas, accepting his confession without a second thought.
You’re reminded of that time as your fingers hover over Bachira’s icon now, sitting cross-legged on your bed. Keep it simple. A short message. 
Are you free to meet up today? I think we should go to the park near your house.
Not even a few seconds later, your phone dings.
yes!!!!!!! heading over now :3
Now? You aren’t even ready! Is your outfit good? What about your appearance? Your hands flutter nervously. You could be over at the park in a matter of minutes if you took the car, but… Wait. Why are you worrying over this sort of thing again? Why do you still care so much about his opinion? Knowing Bachira, it’d all be the same to him whenever you showed up in a trash bag or a thousand dollar suit. He’s never been one to care much for appearances. 
Your phone buzzes again, and you whip it up to your face. It’s not a message from Bachira, but an email from Thomas. Your heart lunches as you open it to read a simple message asking about your trip, and if you’ve been well. 
You’ve forgotten entirely about him. Instead, you’ve been thinking only of Bachira. Sure, you’re technically not dating Thomas right now, but why does it still make you feel so guilty?
You made a note to yourself to message Thomas back later. You can only handle one thing at a time right now, and Bachira is the major agenda on your list. It only takes a few minutes for you to make your way to the park, agonizingly short and slow at the same time, as if time is warping around you.
Bachira is sitting on one of the swings, twisting the metal chains in spirals and letting go slowly, so he twists in dizzying loops. The air is soft, perfumed with the scent of newly flowering trees, white petals falling like pale rain.
You pause just outside the entrance. He hasn’t noticed you yet. When did Bachira grow taller? He’s always had a round face, but puberty has melted the last of his baby fat away. His hair, at least, is as messy as ever, strands curling in every direction away from his face, his wild bangs held in check by a few clips clinging to remain on. 
The worst part is that you know him still, that you will always know him. That you would recognize him even under a different name or if you had been struck blind and deaf. You would know him by your touch alone, by scent, by taste. The very space Bachira occupies is left changed by his presence, and you could chase his lingering trails for the rest of your life. 
“Bachira,” you greet, walking slowly to where he’s still twisting in circles. You grab the chains, jerking him to a sudden stop, and he tilts his head up to look at you as he sways back and forth on the swings, your shadow falling across his face. 
“Hey, hey, hey! You’re here!” 
You nod. Your voice has fled in Bachira’s presence, and all you can do is drink him in.
“I missed you,” Bachira says.
“We met a few days ago.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says. “I meant I missed you the whole time you were gone from Japan! I thought of you the whole time.”
You finally manage to unstick your voice. “Why didn’t you text me?”
“Because you told me not to. You were so mad at me. I didn’t want to make you madder.”
“Did you think I hated you?” you say. 
“You didn’t?” he says quietly.
“I…” you begin, then clear your throat. “I could never hate you.”
Bachira kicks at the ground. “Then why didn’t you text me?” he says, echoing your question.
“I was mad, Bachira. I…”
“You said we were best friends.”
You blink. Once, twice. “I did. I didn’t lie to you.”
“Then are we still best friends?”
“I…” You duck your head so he can’t see your face. “It’s been so long. And…” You can’t forget what happened in middle school. You can’t return to the way your relationship used to be, when you were children, and the world was simple, and uncomplicated. Why did he look at you like the two of you could? “It’s different now.” 
“I always thought you were my best friend,” he says plaintively. “That’s never changed.” 
“Then in middle school, why did you…” You chew the tender flesh of your cheek. 
When you were in America, you had fantasized about what you would say to him, how you would redo your argument and say the right words to strike home. You had thought about running into him again, and how the perfect speech would flow from your mouth, conveying all your feelings, mending whatever had broken all those years ago. In angrier times, you thought about hitting right where it hurt, your words like a sword, and you, the perfect, righteous victim. Now, though? Now your sentences come in bits and pieces, awkward and stilted, breaking under his gaze. 
“Why did you do that to me, Bachira?” you continue quietly. “Do you think we can go back to the way we were before, just like that?”
A buzz emanates from your pocket. Grateful for the distraction, you drop your grip from the swings. There are imprints of the chain links on your palm as you swipe open your new notification.
“Is it your mom?” Bachira asks.
You squint at the bright email on your phone. “No. It’s from my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” There’s a strange quaver in Bachira’s voice.
“My boyfriend. In America,” you add. “He plays football, too, and he drives me to places.” You feel mean then, your heart shriveling into something small and petty. You hadn’t intended to lie about Thomas, who was just your ex, but the lie feels good as you drink in Bachira’s lost gaze, eyes wide and shimmering with unspoken emotions. 
“I’m qualified to make nationals for football,” Bachira says, that odd tone still in his voice. 
“So is my boyfriend,” you add. The football season in America had just started, but Bachira didn’t need to know that. 
“Cars are overrated. I just walk everywhere. It helps me become a better player,” Bachira adds. 
“I should probably go so I can respond to him,” you say, waving your phone, ambling slowly towards the park entrance. Bachira’s gaze never leaves your phone.
Bachira kicks hard at the ground, shoes digging into the angry dirt. “So you like him, then? You like him a lot?” 
“Bachira.” Your gaze bores into him. A breeze, sweet with the scent of flowers, ruffles his hair. “The way we are now, I don’t think you have the right to question me.” 
He flinches, spinning the swing into motion, as if he can fly far from your words. But he’s only going back and forth in one direction, legs kicking at the sky. 
You watch him for a while longer. All the anger drains out of you then. What is it that you came back here for, anyways? What are you looking for? What do you want? If growing up is going to be so painful, then maybe Bachira is right. You should have remained the way you once were, just the two of you. 
By pulling some strings and begging your mom, you were able to get into the same public middle school as Meguru. The plan initially had been to send you to a fancy prep school overseas for both middle and high school, but you rebelled and pleaded, threatening to run away and to ruin the family reputation. 
“I’ve never seen you cry so hard,” your mom teased. “From the way you were acting, I might as well have been torturing you. I didn’t realize you hated the idea of studying abroad so much.” 
Your face burned at her words. “I’m sorry, Okaa-san.”
“Don’t be. It was cute. You hardly ever act like that, so it was nice to see.” She slid a sly smile at you. “But I wonder… is there a particular reason you wanted to go to this middle school?” 
You shook your head vehemently. “No! Not at all!” 
“Really? Not even for a certain little cute friend of yours?” your mom continues. 
“Okaa-san!” you protested, and she threw up her hands in surrender. 
When you started middle school with Meguru in the spring, though, it hadn’t been like what you expected. For starters, there was always a sea of people around you, pushing Meguru away like he was a piece of kelp set adrift on the tide. You knew how to make friends; how to smile just so, or to reply in the right lulls in the conversation to keep it going. But Meguru was always in a corner by himself. Even when you invited him over, your classmates would smile awkwardly at his nonchalant comments, or find reasons to drift away.
“He’s weird,” one of your classmates confided in you, one hand cupped around her mouth. “He talks to himself sometimes, and he never pays attention in class. He’s not a bad guy, but… he should try to fit in more.”
She looked expectantly at you, as if offering you a gift. You backed away from her instead, your own smile strained. “I see. But I like Meguru the way he is. He’s not doing anything wrong, and I don’t see why he has to change.” 
Regardless of how the other students treated Meguru, though, you were determined not to let it affect you.
You were the only one to greet him in the hallways, and to sit by him during lunch. In the warm weather, the two of you would sit side by side in a secluded corner of the classroom, or try to find a place to sit outside under the shade of some trees. You walked home with him (because he preferred to dribble his football on the way, instead of taking a ride in your car), and walked to school with him, asking the driver to drop you off in front of his house. You dragged Meguru to study with you, somehow pulling him through each exam by the skin of his teeth, because you refused to imagine a situation in which the two of you wouldn’t be in a class together. Your classmates started joking that if they wanted to find you, all they had to do was call Meguru’s name, and you would pop up expectantly. 
It was shaping up to be a good three years of middle school. You would graduate on time at this rate, and go to high school together. The only issue, though, was something that took place during the start of your third year of middle school. A classmate of yours had asked you to meet him after school, surrounded by two of his friends who grinned and elbowed him as he rubbed his neck, refusing to look you in the eye. 
You didn’t think much of it at the time. When you showed up at the classroom, he turned to you with a sudden desperation, face red, and bowed. 
“Please go out with me!” he said. “I’ve had a crush on you for the past two years!” 
“Huh?” You gripped the straps of your bag tighter. “You… you like me?”
He bowed even more deeply at your confused tone. “Is it no good? Do you not feel anything for me?”
“I’m flattered, but I don’t like you in that way. I’m sorry,” you said gently. 
The boy groaned. “I knew it. It’s because of Bachira, right? The two of you are always together. I don’t stand a chance against him.” 
“Because of Meguru?” you repeated. 
The boy nodded. “You like each other, right? It’s obvious. Man, I shouldn’t have tried to get in between that.”
You couldn’t find the words to deny him or to fix the misunderstanding, even after the two of you parted. You and Meguru? Of course you liked him. He was your best friend. 
But you couldn’t let go of that boy’s words. You mulled over them, again and again. Like clothes that no longer fit quite right, your relationship with Meguru had changed shape before you had noticed. Somehow, that boy was the first to notice.
You always waited for Meguru to finish soccer practice, no matter how late it ran. Sometimes you had student council duties, or you would just sit cross-legged and work on your homework as he ran around the field. You’d done this for all three years of middle school, and the entire team knew you by name. The coach would jokingly ask if you were okay if you ever missed a day of practice, calling you an honorary member of the team. 
Today was no different, and you made your way to the soccer field to wait for him. Without fail, when Meguru finished, the first thing he did was whip his head around, looking for you. As soon as he did, he made a beeline straight to you, without a care in the world. 
He threw his arms around you from behind, causing the two of you to tumble into the grass. You shrieked, and he laughed, and you were a tangled pile of clinging limbs and grass stains.
It’s what he did. It’s what he was like. So why did your heart burst like a thousand butterflies into flight, reacting to his touch? He’s always been touchy. Your classmate was getting in your head. 
“There you are!” Meguru said, looping his arms around your neck, heedless of who was watching, even if the team was used to his antics. “Let’s go home now!”
When he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, you couldn’t move, skin hot wherever he touched you. 
“Okay, let’s go home, Meguru,” you said softly.
As soon as you went home, you sprinted past your mom to leap onto your bed and hug your pillow. You liked Meguru. You liked him so much, and it was so obvious now. It was the most natural stage for your relationship to progress to. Maybe you had always liked him, and you just didn’t have the words for it until now. Meguru had always been the most special person in the world to you, and that idea had simply taken on a new shade of meaning.
He had promised to be with you forever, hadn’t he? And Meguru would never break a promise to you.
You were careful not to let Meguru know your feelings over the following months. It would be embarrassing if he discovered them so soon, especially when it had taken you so long to realize them. But everyday after you went home, you would list all the things he had done that day, like touching your hand and hugging you, and calling your name three different times during history class. Everything about him felt so much more special now. 
You liked him. You liked him so much. And you had to do something about it before graduation. As the months dripped by like water falling from a melting icicle, you planned when to make your move: on the most romantic day of the year. 
During Valentine’s Day, you splayed your bandaged fingers across your desk in anticipation, your gift wrapped neatly in your backpack.
It had taken you all week to make the chocolates, which you had painstakingly molded into chocolate hearts. Since it was the first Valentine’s in which you were giving someone chocolate, you had delicately filled each heart with different fruit flavored jams– strawberry, orange, and even pineapple, Meguru’s favorite. The chocolates were nestled in a bag of pink cellophane and white tissue paper, with a red ribbon neatly tied in a bow on top. You had refused help from everyone, even the chef and your mom, because it was more special if you did it by yourself. 
You hadn’t been able to stop bouncing in your seat all morning, nervous energy thrumming through you as the teacher’s history lecture went in one ear and out the other. The chocolates burned like a secret in your school bag, and you couldn’t resist fiddling with the zipper, constantly sliding it down to make sure the gift was still there.
When lunch finally rolled around, like an anxious puppy, you jumped out of your seat and headed straight to Meguru, who was sleeping, his head buried in his arms and doodles scattered across his notebooks like stars.
“Meguru,” you said, shaking his shoulder. “Meguru, wake up. Class is over.”
“Uh?” Meguru blinked one slow, sleepy eye at you, before stretching. “It is?”
“Yes. I have something to show you,” you emphasized. “It’s a surprise.”
“What is it?” He sat up, staring at you expectantly. 
You glanced around the classroom; only a few people were still in their seats, eating homemade lunches and chatting with their friends, heads bent over magazines or phones. Reaching in your bag, you fumbled for the chocolates, hands trembling as you presented them to Meguru.
“Chocolate? Wow, thanks!” His eyes lit up as he reached for the bag, untying it and shaking a few of the hearts into his hand. He popped them in his mouth, his lips curling up in bliss. “These are so good!”
“I made them myself,” you explained shyly. “It took a while, but… I wanted to do something special for you, Meguru.”
He stuffed another chocolate into his mouth. “Thanks! You’re the best friend ever!”
Your face twitched at his choice of words, but you still plowed on. “Well… These aren’t just any chocolates, you know? Do you remember what day it is?”
“Uh…”
“It’s Valentine’s,” you supplied impatiently. “So, um…”
“These are friendship chocolates?” Meguru asked, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.
“No.” Your hands were clammy now. It was just Meguru. Meguru, who you’ve known forever. Meguru, who promised to be by your side. Meguru, who understood you more than anyone else in the world. Why were you so afraid? He’d never hurt you.
“Can I share these with my mom?” Meguru continued innocently. “I think she’d love ‘em, too.”
“No!” Meguru stared at you, and your cheeks burned. “Sorry. I can make some for Bachira-san later. But these are special, Meguru. They’re… they’re not friendship chocolates.”
A sudden hush descended over the classroom. You were on a stage, a bright, hot spotlight beaming down on you and making your neck sweat. This wasn’t anything like what you read about how confessions went in shoujo manga. Meguru’s clueless eyes burned into you, and it was like he didn’t understand the script you were trying to read for him.
Meguru ate another heart, gnashing it beneath his teeth. “Eh? What other kind of chocolate can they be?”
You forced the words out. “They’re… they’re romantic.  I’m confessing to you. I like you, Meguru.”
Your breathing was shallow, and your heart beat like a frightened animal. You couldn’t look at him anymore, and the heaviness of your words dropped like stones onto the floor. 
“Oh. Um… I’m sorry.” The awkwardness in Meguru’s voice was too much. You backed away from his desk, tears burning at the corner of your eyes. When you looked up, you could see your classmates, feigning disinterest as they purposefully avoided your gaze. 
You burst out of the classroom, ignoring the sound of Meguru’s chair screeching back as he yelled after you, “Wait!”
You were fast, but Meguru was faster. You skidded down the steps wildly, taking several at a time, and you were half down the landing when Meguru caught up to you. He called your name at the top of the stairs, but you refused to look back– and then, he landed in front of you, breathing heavily, shirt sleeves rolled up. He had jumped down an entire flight of stairs to catch up to you. 
Meguru called your name. “Wait! Wait, wait.”
You turned your head away, but you could still sense Meguru in front of you. Your childhood friend. Your best friend. You had drawn hearts around his name in the back of your notebook this morning.
“What is it?” you said softly. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Meguru had just been surprised, and now he would confess his feelings.
 It was a joke, right?” he said uncertainly. “You were joking. It was a weird joke, but–”
“I wasn’t joking!” you yelled, shoving him backwards with a wild strength that surprised you. You haven’t been this mad at him since you first met. 
Meguru stumbled back a few steps, watching you with wide eyes. It was an expression you hadn’t seen on him before: confused, lost, and afraid. Shouldn’t you be the one making that face?
“Okay. Um. It’s just weird if our relationship changes like that. You and me? That’s kinda weird,” he said again. “We’re friends! I don’t want to be anything else.”
You dug your nails into the meat of your palm until the pain was all you could think about. “I don’t want to be friends.”
“Huh?” Now Meguru looked even more afraid.
“I like you, Meguru,” you said, a broken sob in your voice. “I can’t just be friends with you. I…”
Meguru stepped closer to you. There was a starburst of hope in your chest, before it was dashed by Meguru dropping your Valentine’s Day chocolate in your hands. You curled your fingers over the hearts, crushing them in your palm.
“I don’t want to do this,” Meguru mumbled. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear anything, okay?”
“You’re a coward,” you said furiously, pushing all your hurt into your voice. You weren’t sad. You weren’t going to cry. Not especially in front of him. “I– I don’t want to see you again. Don’t talk to me. You liar! You said you would always be by my side!”
When you looked down the stairs, you could see a few of your fellow students, awkwardly hovering near the bottom of the landing. They averted their gazes when they met your eyes, but your whole body felt hot with rage and embarrassment. How many people had seen and heard the two of you? By tomorrow, everyone in school would probably be gossiping about how you were rejected by Meguru.
You ran. You ran, and this time, Meguru didn’t stop you as you jumped down the stairs. Somehow, you made your way home. You started listlessly at your phone, but there was no message from Meguru. You had been the one to tell him not to contact you, but… you threw your phone onto your bed.
Stupid Meguru. Stupid you. It had never occurred to you that Meguru might not feel the same way as you. You had been so arrogant, so certain that he liked you, and now you had embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. 
Did he forget? He promised to marry you. But that had been on a childish whim of his, no doubt, something he had long forgotten. You buried your head in your arms, and cried until you could drown the entirety of Chiba in your tears.
When your mom came home that night, a frown was brewing on her face, but the sight of your puffy eyes and hoarse voice stopped her lecture.
“What happened?” she asked you. “The school called me. You skipped classes.” 
You shook your head. “I want to study abroad for high school.”
“What? Are you sure? You were so excited to go to school with Meguru-kun. The process would be–”
“I don’t care,” you said. His name stung your heart. “I want to go to America, Okaa-san. Please.”
She peered at you closely, then sighed. “Okay. Okay, let’s talk about this later. But if you really want to, then it’s not too late to make it happen.” 
For the rest of your time until graduation, you avoided Meguru. You didn’t text him. When you saw him in the halls, you turned around and went a different way. You stuck closely to your other friends, and went home right away whenever you didn’t have any extracurriculars. You no longer visited the football field after school. 
No one was cruel enough to talk about your confession to your face, but you could feel the glances, hear the whispers, until everyone lost interest and moved on to the next piece of gossip.
A part of you expected Meguru to come running to you, but he quietly kept out of your way. Maybe he was avoiding you, just as much as you were avoiding him. What an odd thought; Meguru had always been the first to whine when you had to leave to visit your grandparents for the summer. He was the one who always threw his arms around you. Maybe your relationship hadn’t meant that much to him after all.
When it came time for you to move to America, you and Meguru graduated middle school without talking to each other at all. 
For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to talk to Thomas about Bachira.
In fact, you haven’t told any of your American friends about Bachira. You spent the first year in California trying to forget him, blindly agreeing to go on dates with any boys who showed interest in you. But their love for you was never greater than your own lack of it. Thomas is only the most recent one and you follow his lead, not out of loyalty, but convenience. 
You keep your thoughts held tight to your chest, precious secrets that you refuse to let spill out of your grasp. With everyone in your life, sometimes even your mom, you have always put up a front. The only person you didn’t do that with was with Bachira. 
Bachira is an open wound, one that grows bigger with every year, overwhelming you with its enormity and the way pressing on it still makes you ache. Your friends would laugh if you told them you were hanging on to a boy for so long, nursing this pain like your own child. They wouldn’t understand, and you would look pathetic in their eyes. There are no words in English or Japanese to describe what he means to you. His hold on you is as eternal as the way the flowers bloom during the spring, and the world revolves on its axis. 
The rest of spring break passes in a flash. You hardly run into Bachira anymore, and your mom doesn’t force any more meetings. You email Thomas, who responds with boyish enthusiasm even at your dry answers. 
The night before your morning flight, you rush up and down the stairs, sorting your various toiletries and stuffing clothes into your suitcase. 
“All ready?” your mom asks you, nursing a mug of tea at the counter, watching you bustle.
“Yes, Okaa-san,” you say obediently. She holds open her arms, and you stop by for a hug, her arms enveloping you. She runs a hand in circles along your back, humming to herself.
“You’re such a good child,” she says affectionately. “Come visit me again soon. I’ll be lonely without you.”
“Okay.”
“And…” She pulls back to peer into your eyes. “You’re a little too good to me. You should try to be more wild. Rebel, so I can throw up my hands in exasperation at you and complain to all my friends.” 
“I’ll try, so you have something to talk about with your coworkers,” you say, and she pinches your nose. 
“Don’t try. Just do it,” she scolds. “I’ll always forgive you for any silly mistakes you make.”
“Okay, Okaa-san,” you say. “If I break a law, I’ll let you know in advance to prepare my bail.” 
She smiles sadly. “You’re so old now. I wish you wouldn’t get hurt in life, but I can’t fix everything for you.” 
“The world isn’t that nice,” you agree. 
“You haven’t talked to Meguru-kun recently,” she says gently. “Did something happen?” 
You stiffen, your face shuttering closed. “We’re okay. We’re just busy.” 
She stirs the tea in her mug. “Okay. I won’t push you any further. Your life is yours to live. But I’ll always be here for you, if you need me.” 
She leans in to kiss you on the forehead, and you want to cry. From the way she hesitates, you know she wants to say something else, but she simply lets you go.
How long has your mom suspected that your relationship with Bachira isn’t as pleasant as you pretend it is? You rub your forehead as you rush upstairs, dumping the last of your items into your suitcase. You sit on top of it to force it closed as you start zipping up the side, when your phone buzzes.
Bachira? No, it’s Thomas. The header of the email causes you to drop your phone in surprise.
About our relationship…
You pick up your phone, skimming the email.
Can we get back together? You read. I miss you.
How fickle. He was the one who broke up with you, and now he wants to get back together right away as soon as it’s convenient. That might not be a bad idea, though. A relationship where you knew what was expected from you, a simple transaction, would be easy. 
Your phone buzzes again; it’s an incoming call. You stare at the caller ID for a few seconds, your surprised face reflected in the screen, before you answer, pressing the phone close to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” Bachira says. “I’m outside.”
“What?”
“I’m outside your door,” he repeats. “Can you come outside? If not, I’ll come in.”
“Why are you here?” You stand, heart pounding. 
“Kaa-san told me you were leaving tomorrow,” Bachira says. “So I wanted to stop by.”
“Bachira…”
“Just for a little bit,” he persists. “That’s all you need to do.”
You sigh. “All right, fine. But only for a few minutes, okay?”
You hang up, pulling on a light jacket before you’re flying down the stairs, trading your house slippers for flip flops, and burst into the cool night air. The sun is setting, painting the sky in vibrant swatches of peaches and reds. There’s a cool breeze, sweet with the scent of new growth.
Bachira is leaning outside your family gate, a football tucked under his arm.
“What is it?” you ask him tersely, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets.
“You’re going back to America?” he says.
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
“When will you come back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to university there,” you reply. You had planned to come back for summer break to see your mom, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Okay.” Bachira looks at the ground. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Why do you want to know about him?”
“Do you like him?”
“I… Sure,” you say, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. “We’re on break right now because he’s busy with football season, but we’re thinking about getting back together,” you add more strongly, and Bachira kicks at the ground.
“He sounds like a jerk. Why’d he break up with you if he just wants to get back together whenever he wants?”
“At least he’s clear with his intentions,” you say sharply. “And he doesn’t run away.” 
Bachira flinches, but it doesn’t make you feel as good as it should have. “... Shouldn’t…” he mumbles. 
“What?” You tilt your head to catch his words.
“You shouldn’t get with him again,” Bachira says, still kicking at the ground like he would dribble his football. 
“Why not?” You laugh, short and bitter. “How is that your business, Bachira? It’s not like you’re my boyfriend. We’re not even— we’re not even friends anymore.” 
No response. What did you expect? 
“I’m tired of this, okay?” you say softly. “All this stupid back and forth. We keep going in circles. If all we’re going to do is hurt each other, then let’s just end this here.”
Bachirs looks up at you finally, his gaze full of so much desperation and uncertainty. His chin trembles as he says, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I rejected your confession. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”
Bachira might as well have stabbed you. “Do you think that’s going to fix things? You’re sorry? Now? After all this time? What’s that going to fucking fix?” you say, your voice rising with each word you spit out. 
“You didn’t call me, either,” Bachira says quietly. You flinch at the raw hurt in his voice, his overwhelming sadness. “You’re the one who just left without a word. You’re the one who ignored me. You were my only friend. You were my best friend.”
You chew your lip hard. Were. Not are. “I couldn’t face you anymore,” you say. 
“I thought our friendship was stronger than that,” he says.
“I guess it wasn’t.” 
“Do you really not want to be friends anymore?” 
“What do you think? You want us to go back to how we were before and pretend nothing happened? It’s too late. Everything has changed. There’s no going back,” you spit. “You broke my heart. I… I loved you.”
“Then why did you just leave so easily? If you loved me?” Bachira asks. “You ran away and didn’t even try.” 
“I could ask you the same,” you snap. “Just tell me it’s over. Okay? Reject me for good.”
“I can’t.” 
“Why not? It was so easy for you before.”
“Because I love you,” Bachira says desperately.
It’s the world’s cruelest joke. Bachira reaches an uncertain hand towards you, and you jerk back, tears rolling down your face and blurring your vision. He can’t touch you. If he does, you’ll break apart. “Don’t lie,” you say. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m not lying. I didn’t want to admit it before,” he says. “When you told me you liked me, I was scared by how I felt.” 
“Stop it.”
“I didn’t want to lose you,” he says. “Things were changing so fast. You were my only friend, and if you liked me, then we couldn’t ever go back to being just friends.” 
“So you’re doing this to me now?” you say. The tears are still falling, and you hug yourself. You feel so weak and so young, all your surety stripped away. “You think you can do this to me?” 
I’m sorry,” he says. 
“You lost me either way,” you snap, “when you broke my heart like that.” 
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.” 
You give a strangled laugh. “Really?”
“You don’t have to like me,” he says. “You can be as mad as you want. If you gotta go to America, that’s fine. If you– wanna be with someone else, too, if you don’t love me, that’s okay. We don’t even have to be friends, if you hate me. Just– can I please– can I love you? Is that okay? I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You’re so mean, Meguru,” you whisper. You can’t go forward until you confront him. You can’t go back because it’s impossible. Your fate has always been twisted by the boy in front of you.
You grab the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands savagely, as you press your lips against his. It’s a short kiss, salty with the taste of your tears, and Bachira is too surprised to kiss you back. 
“Eh?” Bachira asks dazedly.
“You piss me off,” you say. 
“Uh?”
You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Meguru. I’m sorry I left you alone and that I ran away from you and that I gave up so easily. I was scared, okay? But… I never hated you. Ever.”
“You called me Meguru,” Meguru breathes. And then he throws his arms around your neck. 
“You’re so clingy,” you complain, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his back. You’ve missed his warmth, familiar and pleasant and gentle. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” 
“Sort of!”
“Pay attention!” 
“Okay. Well, let’s start over from the beginning, then,” he says. “We can do it again this time, and do it better.” He pulls back from you, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’m Bachira Meguru! It’s nice to meet you,” he says goofily, sticking out his hand.
“Hi.” You take his hand, giving it one shake, introducing your name. “Let’s… let’s be friends.”
“We can’t date?” Meguru asks, pouting, and you frown at him. 
“No. Not now,” you acknowledge. “I have to talk to Thomas properly about how I feel. And I’m going back to America tomorrow. And there’s so much that I have to sort through—”
Meguru leans in and kisses you mid-sentence, a quick, butterfly of a kiss that steals all the words from you. “We’ll be friends for now. And if you want, then we can try dating. And even marriage.”
“Married?” you sputter. “Who said anything about marriage?”
“You did,” he says nonchalantly. 
“From when we were kids,” you point out. 
“Eh? Does that matter? We promised, so we have to follow through on it.”
“Don’t tell me you were going to propose to me.”
“In the future,” he says. “We can’t get married before we’re adults.”
“Meguru,” you say slowly. “Were you seriously planning on proposing to me? Before even asking my opinion?” 
“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked romantic stuff. Isn’t that romantic?” 
You grit your teeth. You move to grab his shoulders, but Meguru dodges your grasp and slides backwards. You lunge at him again, but he dances out of your way.
“Come back here, Bachira Meguru,” you yell. “Do you have any common sense?”
“Who needs that?” he says cheerfully.
It feels like your first meeting as kids, so long ago. No one else in the world can quite make you feel this way, for better or for worse. Frustrated, you chase after Meguru as he weaves out of your grasp and hops down the length of the sidewalk. This goes on for a little bit, and just when you’ve run out of steam, Meguru spins around. Before you can move, he leaps at you and gathers you into a hug, his arms around your waist.
“Meguru, cut it out,” you say, annoyed, but you don’t move out of his grasp.
“Hmm…” he says. “I’ve decided! I’ll come visit you in America!”
“What?”
Meguru nods to himself, satisfied. “It’ll be fun! I’ve never been out of the country before! Hey, do you think I could fit in your suitcase?”
“Obviously not!”
You take a deep gulp of the spring air, sweet in your mouth, the flowering trees sending a blessing of pink petals over you. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. It’s just like when the two of you were little, only you’re starting over this time. Nothing would ever be the same again, but what new things could you build instead? What sort of people would you be now? 
You hold out your hand to Meguru. He takes it easily, interlacing your fingers like he’s always belonged there. With his touch, an endless world of possibilities unfolds before you. This time, the two of you will explore it together.
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yeonniesblog · 1 year
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— blue lock! boys reacting to you accidentally confessing to them.
I.e you accidentally text them instead of your friends. maybe a little ooc so bear with it.
blue lock x reader.
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steleir · 10 days
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I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME!
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𝜗𝜚 : gn! reader x isagi, baro, nagi, rin, shido, kunigami, sae, bachira, chigiri. (separate), fluff. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since i first saw this trend on tt i js never posted it, so take this as one thing to thrive on while i stu(die) for mocks.
WE KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT US… habits they picked up while dating you.
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ISAGI YOICHI ‧₊˚ ⊹ : he had a habit of always looking at the door the second you leave the room when you have guests or are around people. he looks at it until you come back holding snacks or the phone you forgot in side. some people get offended, and they have the right. like hello? are you listening? your partner will be back in a minute chill!
BARO SHOEI ‧₊˚ ⊹ : always finds himself buying the cleaning product you like or need. and it simply happens subconsciously, he'd be shopping, and when he arrives at the cleaning section, he goes, "oh, (name) likes that cleaning product" or "(name) needs that." also has a habit of organising everything for you; sometimes you call him mad because you couldn't find a specific thing, and he tells you where it is, and you realise it was right in front of you (💀)
NAGI SEISHIRO ‧₊˚ ⊹ : playing with your fingers or your nails, if they are long. it's doesn't matter the situation; he just does. kisses them sometimes and cracks them for you, but if you don't like that, he won't. shockingly learned how to fold clothes because of your influence. (reo should thank you.) you are always making him fold them for you, though sometimes you have to redo them because the look really bad. 
ITOSHI RIN ‧₊˚ ⊹ : learns how to paint nails for you. it becomes a habit for him to make you sit down and do any design for you, and since he's a fast learner, it does not take him long before he is doing complicated designs. or if you don't like doing your nails, he's learnes how to do hair or anything else you like. it's basically his love language. learning things you like so he can do them for you.
SHIDO RYUSEI ‧₊˚ ⊹ : cooks or bakes for you. despite the popular belief that he can't cook or bake, he actually can. he's just really chaotic while doing so and makes a MESS, but it tastes really good. it becomes a habit for him to always cook and bake for you. but he won't bake for anyone else (unless it's sae).
KUNIGAMI RENSUKE ‧₊˚ ⊹ : always buys himself comfy shirts or shirts with a design you might like because he knows you'll end up wearing them. and because you are (probably) shorter and less buff than him, it basically looks like a dress on you. also does your eyeliner because he notices how much you struggle with it. runs his fingers through your locks all the time not matter what. if your laying next to him, sitting on his lap or simply standing it dosent matter. 
ITOSHI SAE ‧₊˚ ⊹ : has a habit of always looking up at the stands after scoring a goal. always searching for you to see you give him a thumbs up or clapping while jumping up and down. also kisses the ring you gave him on his birthday years ago, that he now puts on a chain so he dosent not lose it. (goes FERAL if it breaks.)
BACHIRA MEGURU ‧₊˚ ⊹ : has a habit of always writing your name and surrounding it with small hearts and stars on any surface he can draw on. also has a habit of sketching you lazily or drawing you like the mona lisa as a method of breaking his art block. (since he canonically likes drawing, i think.)
CHIGIRI HYOMA ‧₊˚ ⊹ : has a habit of buying you matching things all the time. whether it's hair ties, socks, bracelets, earrings, outfits, hair dryers?? anything, and i mean ANYTHING. 
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joy-laufeyson · 1 year
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Blue Lock fic recommendations
(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)
・・・・・・
@ 24hlevi's masterlist
@ adoringbllk's masterlist
@ earthtooz's masterlist
@ fallenssun's masterlist
@ garoujo's masterlist 1, masterlist 2
@ justauthoring's masterlist
@ mitsies' masterlist
@ naosaki's masterlist
@ sir-kuroo's masterlist (nsfw)
@ yuquinzel's masterlist
・・・・・・
fluff / cliche romance tropes (part 1) ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi & Rin
fluff / cliche romance tropes (part 2) ⟶ w/Isagi, Reo & Chigiri
fluff / reuniting with them at the airport⟶ w/Nagi, Bachira, Rin, Sae, Reo & Kunigami
fluff / you open up a blanket for him ⟶ w/Nagi, Sae, Rin, Bachira & Reo
fluff / kissing ⟶ w/Nagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Rin, & Sae
fluff / how he kisses you ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Kunigami, Chigiri & Nagi
sfw / hot things he does ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Kunigami, Nagi, Chigiri, Rin & Barou
sfw / hot things he does ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Reo & Isagi
sfw / flexible s/o ⟶ w/Bachira, Chigiri & Rin
fluff / all mine ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri & Nagi
fluff / chapstick challenge ⟶ w/Bachira, Rin, Nagi, Kunigami & Chigiri
sfw / whipped for manager ⟶ w/Isagi, Sae, Rin & Reo
sfw / coming to his game for the first time ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi & Rin
fluff / booping their nose ⟶ w/Bachira, Isagi & Reo
fluff / lovesick confessions ⟶ w/Bachira, Chigiri, Isagi, & Nagi
fluff / someone asks if you´re single during his q&a ⟶ w/Nagi, Bachira, Rin, Sae & Reo
fluff / beautiful ⟶ w/Isagi, Kunigamj, Reo & Eita
angst fluff / you receive hate (part 1) ⟶ w/Nagi, Rin & Sae
angst fluff / you receive hate (part 2) ⟶ w/Reo, Kaiser & Isagi
fluff / I know I love you ⟶ w/Nagi, Rin & Reo
fluff / pulling them closer by their collar ⟶ w/Rin, Sae, Nagi, Reo, Isagi & Chigiri
・・・・・・
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Isagi Yoichi
sfw / dreamer
fluff / "god, I'm so f*cking in love with you"
sfw / crush
fluff / when was it (when we fell in love)
fluff / content
fluff / sweet dreams
fluff / I'm not ready to leave
nsfw / girls need love
nsfw / bedroom
fluff / mr. & mrs.
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Bachira Meguru
fluff / under the snowy sunrise
angst fluff / I love you, sorry
sfw / that thought made Meguru feel like he might die of loneliness
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Chigiri Hyoma
ansgt fluff / reviver
fluff / kissing his injured knee
fluff / silky hair
fluff / au happily ever after
fluff / overprotective
fluff / friends to lovers
fluff / braiding his hair
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Kunigami Rensuke
fluff / footsie
angst fluff / needed comfort
sfw / visit of a hero
fluff / clingy
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Nagi Seishiro
fluff/ "you´re beautiful, you know that"
nsfw / dating simulator
angst fluff/ between love & lies
fluff / laundry day
sfw / eye contact
angst fluff / just say it
fluff / panda bear
fluff / pouty
fluff / clingy
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Mikage Reo
nsfw / love taste
angst fluff / your place
angst fluff / gold diggger
angst fluff / boyfriend
fluff / grocery shopping
angst fluff / a hug and some words
fluff / bank notification
fluff / lovin' you right
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Itoshi Rin
sfw / 6ams with you
ansgt fluff / jealousy, jealousy
sfw / gloves
fluff / twenty sundays
angst fluff / 2 am
fluff / sugar and everything nice
angst fluff / nervous
fluff / ferris wheel kiss
fluff / dimples
fluff / the train ride home
fluff / dedicating a goal
angst fluff / no fear
fluff / idiotically in love
sfw / drunk confession
sfw / cupid hit me with precision
angst fluff / more
fluff nsfw / taking each other first time
fluff / only you
fluff / shut up and i love you
fluff / clingy
fluff / seeds
・・・・・・
Updated:10-January-2024
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