#i think if San played football

[maximura]

I’m really going to need South Korean NT to survive next round because I want to spend 90minutes watching #9 running around.

[itsbeeble]

Cheerleaders and Stereotypes

SUMMARY: Choi San isn't an idiot. He's also very patient. How long will it take for you to let him admit that he bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world?

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut

PAIRING: Choi San x afab!reader

WC: ~4.7k

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: reader is dumb, relationship is actually a little toxic I won't even lie, san tries to make reader jealous and it works, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, SIZE. KINK., softdom!san, big dick!san, um reader struggles to ride san idk, bulge kink, san lowkey mocks the reader a bit, insecurities, arguing, san lowkey is way too patient for reader, idk i think that's it

A/N: h-heyyyyy *chuckles nervously* Everyone say welcome back tumblr user itsbeeble! Everyone say thank you @from-izzy and @sanaxo-o for distracting me while I was writing and to ally for supporting me through a very very very very long writers block hahahahhahahhahhahha....haha...ha

Choi San, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. Not really at least. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to fit most of the stereotypes of a college athlete.

He was fit, that was without a doubt and he would not deny it. Six days a week in the gym after football practice did him good. Toned arms that hardly fit any of his shirts, the fabric stretching and nearly tearing every time he got dressed. Thick thighs that bulged against every pair of jeans or sweatpants, noticeable from the stands on game day and having girls swooning as he walked. Not to mention his ass. Had he not built up a brick wall called “confidence” the comments made about his ass would have had him blushing and covering his cheeks rather than smirking. 

God, that smirk. He flashed it casually to anyone who looked at him— students, professors, the crowd, the opposing team, the cheerleaders. It was a near unfortunate bonus that he was just as hot as he was fit. That stupid chiselled jaw, the dimples, and his tall frame. It’s irritating. 

At least, it’s irritating for you. 

See, being the supposedly stupid captain of the football team came with many stereotypes. 

Dating the captain of the cheerleading squad was just one more, even if no one knew. 

No one important, that is.

“Sannie,” Yewon was practically hanging off San’s arm, her manicured nails lightly scratching the tan skin. The sing-song tone of her voice made you cringe, the noise scraping at your eardrums and creating a dull throb in your already aching skull. Your back was turned to the pair, but San could tell you were likely trying to grow eyes in the back of your skull to watch the interaction. That stupid, casual smirk of his was trained on the newer cheerleader, her eyes big and filled with faux innocence. “How did you get so big?”

A poorly stifled snort from another girl on the squad, Sihyeon. A good friend of yours who knows exactly what goes on between you and San behind closed doors, and knows exactly what he’s planning. That little snort has you turning the daggers you call eyes onto her, the girls around her shifting uncomfortably at the now tense energy around you. 

Jealousy. That’s what San’s goal is and you know it. He’s pulled this trick several times before, trying to egg you on and expose the relationship that you’d chosen to hide. So he’d play stupid, that same act that everyone believes is a poor reality. The dumb, hot captain of the football team who can’t seem to get a girlfriend despite the girls falling at his feet for a moment of his attention. All he wants is for you to finally get jealous enough to rip that girl off his arm and finally stake your claim publicly. 

Unfortunately, you’re patient. 

Fortunately, so is he.

He smirks down at her, his arm grazing the skin of her lower back that her top doesn’t cover. You can practically hear her breathing stutter, and your grip on your pom poms tightens.

“Never skip a day at the gym, never skip practice, throw a good party on the weekends.” His answer is…lackluster at best. Your nose wrinkles, knowing he did it on purpose. The idiotic responses are for you, in hopes that you’ll turn around and yell at him for pretending to be a moron even though he’s one of the best students in the Kinesiology department. 

“You’ll have to coach me through a workout one day,” Yewon grabs San’s arm tighter when she sees you turn to face the pair. 

“Maybe I should take you up on that.” San isn’t looking at her, not even a brief glance down to acknowledge that she’s there. No, his eyes are trained on you. Daring you to say something, anything. 

Do it.

You know you want to.

Stake the claim.

You know I’m yours. Why not let everyone else know?

You open your mouth to speak, and he quirks an eyebrow at you. Do it, do it, do it.

“Kim Yewon,” the words are laced with venom and she goes rigid. “Break ended ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking to Sannie!” She glared at you, and you almost laughed. 

“Sannie,” you mocked, watching a pout form on your boyfriend’s lips, “has his own practice to get to.”

“Our practice ended half an hour ago.” He argued, toeing the limits of how far he can push you before you finally break. 

“Then leave.” 

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay and talk with Yewon.” He challenged. Sihyeon grimaces behind you, watching as San digs himself a grave not even he can climb out of. 

The two of you stare each other down for a few moments, a mix of emotions running through you. You know that he’s challenging you and trying to get a rise out of you, but you know better. You know you can’t challenge him like that without exposing your relationship— the one thing in your life that you want to keep to yourself for just a little while longer. 

You’re the first to cave, your shoulders slumping just enough to be noticed by San, and his eyebrows knit together. 

“Do what you want. Practice is done for the day.”

The two-story rental house you share with Sihyeon and a few other girls from the squad is eerily silent. The air conditioning and the sound of you quietly walking around your room are the only things keeping you from the thoughts in your head. 

Did San take Yewon up on the ‘offer’?

Did you take it too far?

Should you have just caved for him?

What if he’s sick of this? Of the secret meet-ups and the acting?

Something hits the window as you’re walking past it, and a loud squeak escapes you. You whip your head around just as, what you now realize is, a rock hits the window. Not a large rock. Small, just enough to be noticeable and visible to the naked eye as it tumbles back down to the front lawn. Another rock as you take the two steps you need in order to peer down and see San with a pile of rocks on the ground next to him, a fourth in his hand ready to be thrown if needed. He grins when he sees you, tossing the rock up and down a couple of times before taking aim.

You fling your window open, scowling down at him before he winds his hand back. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Choi San.” He pouts up at you, but all you do is glare. 

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Ring the doorbell, dumbass. Like a normal person.” 

Much to your annoyance, San just grins and drops the rock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You lean against the window frame, arms folded as you run your tongue over your lip in thought. “Shouldn’t you be with Yewon?” 

You can see San’s nose wrinkle at the thought, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes his way to the tree he’d been using as a sort of ladder to get into your room. He’d been doing that since you met, since the first time you ever slept together. He’d never been a fan of the whole…front door tactic. Your father would probably hate him. He’d think San was no good, a troublemaker if anything. You would disagree. 

Maybe your relationship was more stereotypical than you were willing to believe. 

San’s shoes are louder than either of you had expected as he jumps down from the tree, grimacing at the noise he makes.

“If my neighbors didn’t know any better, the police would’ve been here by now.” You shuffle back as your boyfriend tucks awkwardly through your window. His large frame pushes against the frame, the vinyl creaking against him as it struggles to stay in one piece. His neck cranes to look up at you, his feet hitting the ground with another loud thump.

“Glad they know better then.” He pushes a hand through his hair, the silky black strands falling loosely over his forehead in spite of his best efforts. 

A moment of silence falls between you, and you take this time to sit at your dresser. Makeup wipes and cleansers are scattered in front of you from when you’d made a weak attempt at distracting yourself from, well, the problem you’d created. 

San sits on your bed behind you, watching every move you make. He sits quietly, like a child in a timeout chair. He waits, letting you make the calls. You never knew why he started doing that— started letting you take the lead in every argument, even the petty nonsensical ones.

“You never answered my question,” your eyes are trained on him through the mirror. He presses his lips together, loosely folding his legs.

“Are you really that upset?” The question is innocent enough, but it brings back the previous irritation from the field. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend is openly flirting with other people knowing that I’ll get pissed off. You flaunt that knowledge like it’s your fucking birthright or whatever. Do you really think I’m not gonna get upset about it?” You put your moisteurizer down with more force than you’d wanted to, shaking your dresser a bit. San flinches at the sudden noise, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you, though?” Your eyes are narrowed as you turn around in your chair. A momentary pause as San lets the words sink in. He’s patient. So patient with you, even when you feel you don’t deserve it. “You act like you don’t give two shits about our relationship, and then show up at my fucking window acting like nothing is wrong and that the world is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. You go out of your way to piss me off, make me angry at my own squad, just for what? So you can get a good fuck at the end of the day?” 

Sometimes you forget that, while Choi San is patient, that patience runs thin. 

He isn’t stupid. He knows that this outburst, this frustration, isn’t just at him, but the more you spit your venom at him, taking your anger and misdirecting it, the more his patience begins to run out. You can see it in the clenching of his fists, the ticking of his jaw, and the glare in his eyes. 

Unfortunately, you’re far too lost in your mind that you can’t see the way San rises from his seat on your bed and takes a step toward you. Then another, and another, and suddenly he’s right in front of you. 

“Sometimes I think that the idiotic front that you put on isn’t exactly a front at all—” You spin around, expecting him to still be on your bed. A loud yelp escapes you when you come face-to-face with his well-built frame. “Jesus Christ, San! Why the fuck are you right behi—”

“Shut up,” he says it so simply, so calmly that you almost think he’s not being serious. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” You snarl, and San scoffs. 

“Do you even realize why we’re in this situation to begin with?”

“Yeah, you were flirting with my fucking—”

“Don’t blame me for your fucking problems,” San spits out. Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “I’ve been going along with this stupid fucking secret relationship for who knows how long, and all I’ve gotten in return is you bitching about me wanting you to just come out with it!” 

“You know I want to keep—”

“You want to keep your love life private,” San interrupts and flings his hands into the air. “I get it. I understand, Y/N. That doesn’t make it suck any less.” 

“It isn’t just—” you huff, pressing your hand to your forehead in a poor attempt at calming yourself down. “It isn’t just the fact that I want to keep us private, Sannie. I just— I don’t—” 

Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you blink a few times to force them back. San pulls you toward him, his hand practically engulfing yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Your legs are on either side of his, and he laces his fingers with yours, resting them between the two of you. 

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Let me help you.”

You shake your head, and his chest rises and falls with a quiet sigh. “I’m just— I’m just so sick of— of everything.” 

San presses a little kiss to your forehead, tugging one of his hands free from yours and lacing it through the strand of hair on the back of your head. He doesn’t move for a few moments, placing another kiss on your forehead and then another. He waits for you to calm yourself and gather your thoughts. 

“Can—” your voice is quieter, a bit more shaky than it was just moments ago. “Can you kiss me?” San smiles, his lips still just millimeters from your forehead.

“Tell me what’s wrong first.” Your hips shift against his, and you drop your head against the column of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin, and the scent of your shampoo begins to flood his senses. His hand tugs at your hair, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re absolutely insatiable, you know that? Tell me what’s wrong or I’m leaving.”

You can’t fight the little whine that’s pulled out of you. Not that you wanted to. You wanted him. You wanted Choi San so badly that it hurt.

“I was— I was mad because I didn’t want…” You can hardly form a sentence, too distracted by the gentle tugs at your hair and the way San’s other hand has drifted to your hip, drawing circles underneath the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

“What didn’t you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” San pulls your head away from his neck, holding back a grin at the near-glazed look in your eyes. 

“I didn’t want to be part of anymore…stereotypes. We already fit so many, I just—I just wanted to hold that one back for a bit longer.” You whine, your lips falling into a pout that San just wants to kiss away. Instead, he smiles. 

“Was that so hard, pretty girl? So much fighting just for a silly little reason like that?” Your pout deepens, and he sighs. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And nothing is gonna change that, no matter how many stereotypes we fall under. You understand?”

“Yes,” San smiles, stroking your hip and squeezing it.

“‘Yes’ what, baby?” Your eyes are glossy now, your lips parted slightly in your daze.

“Yes sir.”

Despite San’s patience running thin, he always recovers it with ease. Patience is what he’s known for in class, on the field, in your relationship, and in your bedroom. 

He can edge you for hours, cooing at the way you beg for him, beg for that sweet release, for just one more finger, please just one more.

“Pretty girl,” he strokes your cheek, letting his hand slide down your spine to rest against the small of your back. You’re writhing beneath him, trying desperately to bring your hips up just enough for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you but failing miserably. “I don’t think you can handle anymore.” 

Only two of his fingers sit inside you, but it’s more than enough to stretch you out, to provide you with the stimulation you need to go right over the edge—

“San—sir, please.” Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head tightly, nails digging into the fabric so tight you’re afraid it might tear. “Pl—Please lemme cum, I prom—promise I’ll b—be good. Please,” You’re nearly hysterical, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, his thumb dancing over your clit but not quite giving you that extra stimulation. Not that you need it with the way he grinds the tips of his fingers into the spongy spot just within his reach. 

“You wanna cum that bad?” San leans down, his chest pressed against your back and his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that. Beg for it. Scream. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.” 

Patience is a virtue you haven’t quite learned yet. What you have learned? You’re extraordinarily good at making Choi San cave for you. 

“Sir,” you plead, pushing your hips back against his hand just enough. There’s a burning feeling in your stomach, the knot winding tighter and tighter until you almost can’t take it. “Please. I’m so so—sorry for yelling. Please I’ve been so good for you. I can take it. Please let me take it. Want you s—so bad. Want you to ma—make me cum. Want you, Sannie! Please, please make me cum. Want you to fuck me so bad, ple—please!” 

For a moment, San’s hand stills inside you. For a moment all you can hear is your desperate whining and your boyfriend attempting to steady his breathing. 

Then he’s ripping his fingers out of your sopping cunt and rolling you onto your back. His frame looms over you in a way that has your body quivering with anticipation, eyes searching yours for…something that you can’t figure out in your lust-filled haze. 

“Such a pretty girl,” San murmurs, pressing his palm at the base of your stomach, one hand nearly covering the expanse of it. “So small, so good for me. So good for Sannie, hm?”

“Yes!” You grab his wrist, nails digging so tightly you’re afraid you might draw blood. “Please, wanna be so good for you Sannie!” 

He sighs, prying your hand away from his wrist and pinning it to the mattress. “You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you.” 

A sob pushes out of you, your back arching into him. He catches you before you can lower back down to the bed, his arm looping around you to keep you pressed against his chest while he sits back. You’re right where you started— on the bed, straddling him with tears running down your cheeks— but this time you’re both completely undressed. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, little twitches being the only indication of any impatience. You try to roll your hips against him, trying anything to get that friction back. San clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, stilling your hips with one hand. “Thought you said you’d be good for me.”

“I—I will!” You grab his shoulders, leaning your face up to his, trying desperately to kiss him— to do anything that might sway his decision. “I’m sorry, sir! I promise I just— I just wanted—”

“I know,” he kisses you gently, smiling softly, deceptively. “I know you just wanted to cum all over your Sannie’s lap. Been edgin’ you for so long, haven’t I? You deserve to cum for being so…patient.” You let out a relieved sob as San releases your hip and grabs his cock. He guides it through your folds briefly, soaking it in your arousal and pumping his hand up and down his shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. “You’re gonna prove to me that you can be good, baby. Okay?”

“Yes, yes Sannie!” You lift your hips just enough for him to align his tip with your entrance, almost starting to cry again at the feeling. He helps you sink, knowing that two fingers weren’t enough for you. It never is. No matter how much he fucks you, it’s always a tight fit for you, not that you ever complain. You never complain about how big San is compared to you. He’s caught you drooling over this size of his dick more times than he can count, usually trying to talk you out of riding him out of fear of hurting you. But not today. No, today he’s giving you exactly what you wanted. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He encourages. “Fuck yourself dumb on Sannie’s cock.”

The look in your eyes becomes almost animalistic. You shift your body a bit, steadying your hands on his shoulders, and lift your hips until just his tip remains inside of you. San can feel the way you’re clenching around his tip, knows you’re doing it intentionally, and he lets his head fall back. 

When you sink intohim for the first time, you emit a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your nails digging into your lover’s shoulders.

“F—Fuck Sannie!” You bite down on your lip, lifting your hips again and dropping back down. “Mmph—fuck you’re too big!”

“You wanted this, sweetheart,” San tells you, rolling his head to the side and groaning as you continue to struggle with riding him. You try so, so hard to build a steady rhythm, but your legs are shaking and your breath is already gone. “I thought cheerleaders were supposed to have good stamina.”

“No—Not when their boyfriend has a f—fucking huge dick!” You cry out, giving up and grinding your hips against his. The steady rolling of your hips relieves the burn just a bit, and you moan as the tip of his cock grinds into that spot with more strength than his fingers did just minutes ago. “Fuck, I can fe—feel you in my stomach!” 

San lifts his head at that, a new hunger in his eyes and he leans you back. You slow your hips at the sudden movement, furrowing your brows while you watch him. He kisses his teeth and places a firm slap on the side of your hip. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He grips your hip tightly in both hands, forcing you to keep riding him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Keep going until I tell you to stop.” 

You do, your hips picking up a steady pace with the help of one of his hands to guide you along. His other hand presses against your stomach, and you hear his breathing hitch.

“Baby,” he takes your hand from his shoulder, squeezing it gently as he guides it to where his hand was previously. “Feel right here.” 

You hesitate just a moment, and he looks down at you, smiling encouragingly. 

Then you feel it. 

The bulge in your stomach where the tip of his cock reaches as far as it can possibly go. 

“You feel that, baby?” San presses your hand down and you both let out a simultaneous moan at the feeling. The white-hot pleasure builds back up in the pit of your stomach, the loosened knot returning with renewed fervor and you know San can tell. You know that he’s close too, his hips thrusting up to meet yours halfway. “God, you feel so good. How did I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond. The pleasure is blinding. All you can feel, see, hear, and smell is San. He clouds your thoughts, your senses, your very being. The pleasure is winding up, drawing that knot tighter and tighter and tighter—

“C—Cumming, San!” You arch into him, and he holds your hip to keep you moving. “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming!”

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunts, his thrusts stuttering. “Fuck, I’m close. Keep going baby, wanna cum with you.”

Your hips are moving slower, your muscles burning and you can’t stop yourself from forcing San back until he’s laying against the bed. Your hands find purchase on his chest, sweat beading on your forehead with the effort to keep moving, to keep riding him until you’re both forced over the edge you’d been begging for. 

San’s thumb drifts across your hip, finding purchase on your swollen clit and rubbing sloppy circles into it until you’re sobbing again, sobbing his name and begging for that sweet release. 

When it hits you, it’s blinding. Stars spark behind your eyes, your head tossed back and sweet cries pulled from the depths of your chest. His hips thrust into yours one more time, his eyes trained on how you arch your back and twitch with your release, and then he’s cumming. Thick globs of cum fill you up to the brim, seeping out from the seams of your cunt and mixing with your release. You let yourself collapse against his chest, practically gasping for air and shaking from the effort of riding him.

“You finally got what you wanted,” San murmurs, resting one of his hands on the small of your back as his cock softens in you. “You finally got to ride me.”

“Never…never doing that again,” you mutter back, placing a kiss on the base of his neck. “Absolutely…not.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting this happen.” San is grinning ear to ear as he drives you to campus, his free hand holding yours tightly. You purse your lips, refusing to admit defeat.

“This doesn’t mean I want everyone knowing—”

“Bullshit,” San interrupts with a grin. “You want everyone to know that I bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world.”

“You didn’t bag shit, Choi San. And if you say that you ‘bagged’ me to anyone on the football team,” your eyes turn to daggers as you jab a finger into his shoulder, “I will end your bloodline where it stands. Your mom can say ‘bye’ to any chances of a grandchild from us.”

San grimaces, but it’s replaced by a radiant smile as he pulls into the parking garage closest to your building. “You can make as many threats as you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t risk that. You love getting fucked after dealing with Yewon every day.” 

He opens your door for you, beaming as he helps you out of his car. 

“I’ll make you a deal, sweetheart.”

“Will you now?” Your response is sarcastic but San ignores it.

“You let me show you off as much as I want, and I bitch out Yewon today.”

You don’t even have to think about your response, a grin replacing your scowl.

“That sounds like a damn good deal, Choi San.”

“Sannie!” 

Yewon’s grating voice has never sounded so fucking heavenly in your ears, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. San is already at your side, rifling through your bag for the extra granola bar he knows you have. He grimaces at the sound, his eyes almost begging you to help him, but you shake your head.

“You dug your own grave, Sannie.” A quick pat on his shoulder and his fate is decided for him.

“Yewon,” he greets the girl, continuing to rifle through the bag. “Can I help you?” 

The disinterest in his voice didn’t deter her, not that anyone was surprised. The cheer squad watched the younger, newer, dumber member as she stumbled through her flirtations, complimenting him on things he didn’t need nor want to be complimented on while searching for a fucking granola bar. 

“Yewon,” San finally interrupts the girl, rising with the snack in his hand and glaring down at her. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not interested.” 

The shock on her face made you smile. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was a bitch named Karma. Or, maybe, you were sick of the shitty stereotypes that you always seemed to fall victim to. 

“But you—you always—”

“I was trying to make my girlfriend jealous of me, as shitty as that is,” San pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “But I’ve already got myself a cheerleader, Kim Yewon. And she’s the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. Plus, she’s hot as fuck,” San grins at you, but you can only roll your eyes.

“I said no—”

“You said I couldn’t tell people I bagged you,” it takes him three steps to reach your side and grab your chin. “Not that I couldn’t call you the hottest cheerleader in the world. No offense, Sihyeon.”

“None taken,” your best friend waves her hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.” 

“Shut up, Sihyeon.” You scowl, but San is quick to bend down, hunching at the shoulders to reach your height and kiss you firmly on the mouth. It’s a searing kiss, more than he said he would do in front of the squad, but you let him have his moment. 

You’d made him wait long enough.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[reminiscingtonight]

Make It Better

Leah Williamson x Reign!Reader

Word Count: 591

A/N: Just a short blurb because I'm sad and apparently I like writing when I'm sad

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re sitting on mahogany seats when she calls. 

Your head’s dropped down against your hands, a duffle bag thrown on the floor underneath your feet.

You’re tired and cold and just so fucking sad when she calls.

“I just saw what happened. What can I do to help?”

What can I do to help. Not are you okay or any attempts at consoling you. 

What can I do to help.

Because Leah’s a footballer just like you. She knows exactly how it feels to lose a championship game. To be so close to achieving your dreams and then having them crumble to dust right in front of you.

You wipe roughly at the tear trekking down your cheek. Your face hurts from the number of times you’ve wiped at your face the past couple hours.

You know Leah can hear you silently crying over the phone. You try to keep it quiet, but your girlfriend knows you almost better than you know yourself.

The people around you pretend not to stare but you can still feel their gaze occasionally sweeping past you. You must be a sight to see, red eyes, stuffy nose, oversized t-shirt and sweatpants on, traces of grass still sticking to your arms from where you missed them earlier.

“Can you give me a hug?”

There’s only one thing that would make you feel better. Spending the majority of the year away from your girlfriend sucks, but not being able to feel her arms around you, breath tickling your skin as she murmurs how much she loves you, especially after a hard fought lost like today, just makes the distance hit even worse.

“I’ll give you as many hugs as I can when I see you next.”

Tipping your head back, you finally let the headrest do its job and let the chair support your body. You all but sink into the chair, hand tightening its grip against the phone pressed to your ear.

“I miss you,” you murmur, trying to focus on the sounds you can hear through the phone.

There’s some rustling as you assume Leah is settling back against her bed. You feel guilty that she’s calling you with how early it is in England, but the selfish part of you doesn’t want her to go.

Leah also doesn’t seem like she’s in any rush to leave, as you hear her soft hum over the line. “I miss you too. When is your flight out?”

A soft smile rises to your lips at the knowledge that Leah still thinks you’re in San Diego. You slip open an eye, taking note of the various conditions of the passengers around you, many having earplugs and eye masks over their eyes as they brave the late-night flight over to London.

“I’ll be home for dinner.”

You can practically hear how wide Leah’s smile gets. God you couldn’t wait until you could see that gorgeous smile in person. 

“You might have to settle for confectionery stand hotdogs, darling.”

You can already picture it. You wrapped in Arsenal red, Leah’s arms snug tight around you. A small hotdog and drink in hand as you watch her team play in their own league game.

So similar to how your first date went.

As well as many others that followed.

“I can’t wait. It’s a date.”

And when the clock strikes 7 in Leicester, the sting from your championship loss hasn’t faded yet, but wrapped up in the arms of Leah Williamson, finally home at last, you know everything will be alright.

[daisyblog]

Our Story

Summary: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when YN's brother, Louis, is put in a band with Harry and three other boys when they auditioned for The X Factor. From the very beginning, YN and Harry were always close, and as time went on feelings grew deeper. This is YN and Harry's story. Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell

YN:

YN Tomlinson An insight into YN's life.

Tattoos YN's tattoos.

Songs Songs (or parts of songs) Harry's written about YN.

Lockscreen Harry and YN's lockscreen photos over the years.

TikTok:

Name a Girl

Doorframe

Couples Quiz

Belong Together

“I’m on SNL and you’re not”

Swiftie

Please Please Please

YN, Come Back

A Day in the Life with Louis and Grace

Self Conscious

Spicy

Doesn’t Love Me Anymore

Give Me My Money

Harry Edward Styles

Kisses

Distracted

Scream

Juno

2011:

Will You Go On A Date With Me? YN and Harry spend time together and their feelings start to grow. First Date YN and Harry go on their first date. Caught YN and Harry’s relationship is exposed after a photo of them kissing is leaked. Written in Louis' POV.

Caught: Pt2 How Niall, Zayn and Liam found out about Harry and YN's relationship.

2012:

Trust YN and Harry take the next step in their relationship.

Worried YN is worried after her and Harry take the next step in their relationship, and ends up talking to Anne about it.

2013:

Kiss and Make Up Harry and YN have their first argument.

Happy Birthday YN It's YN's Birthday.

YN in This Is Us YN appears in clips in One Direction: This Is Us. Story Of My Life YN appears in the Story Of My Life music video.

2014:

Team Niall YN at The Niall Horan Charity Football Match.

Where We Are YN appears in clips in Where We Are San Siro.

Late YN realises her period is late.

Mother's Love Anne and Jay can see the love Harry and YN have for each other.

Night Changes YN in Harry's part of the Night Changes music video.

2015:

I Have One Direction play ‘Never Have I Ever’ on The Ellen Show, and the questions target Harry.

Never Have I Ever Harry gets embarrassed playing a game of Never Have I Ever on The Jonathan Ross Show.

2016:

Just Hold On Harry takes care of YN.

2017:

Teddy Harry surprises YN with a new little addition to their family.

2018:

Shattered Hearts The argument that led to Harry and YN going on a break.

Little Break People find out that Harry and YN have broken up.

Cherry How Cherry was made.

To Be So Lonely How To Be So Lonely was made.

Adore You How Adore You was made.

Gogglebox YN and Louis on Gogglebox.

2019:

Burnout Harry and Louis help YN.

Watermelon Sugar How Watermelon Sugar was made.

Zach Sang Show Louis discusses a small part of YN and Harry's relationship on a talk show.

Spill Your Guts: Harry Styles & YN Tomlinson Harry challenges YN to a game of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts. Friendship Test Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson Take a Friendship Test.

I'm A Celebrity...Get Me Out Of Here YN is on I'm A Celeb.

2020:

Unexpected Visitor YN has an unexpected visitor.

2022:

Zane Lowe YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Uncle Popstar Freddie goes to one of Harry's shows.

Capital FM Interview Harry talks about his new music, My Policeman and Don’t Worry Darling…and of course YN.

Venice Film Festival YN and Louis attend the Venice Film Festival with Harry.

2023:

Send To All YN joins Michael McIntyre for a game of Send To All.

Proud Sister YN is by Louis side at his London Premiere for All of Those Voices.

YN and Harry Love On Tour YN and Harry's Outfits and Instagrams during Love On Tour.

Love At Wembley Harry asks YN to marry him at Wembley.

"I'm here for your girlfriend" Harry announces he's engaged during a Wembley Show.

I Think I’m In Love Fans meet YN at LOT Wembley N4.

“Oh Harry” Anne’s reaction to ‘Keep Driving’ lyrics.

Thank You Harry and YN's Love On Tour thank you posts on their Instagram stories.

Faith In The Future Tour Snippets of YN and Harry supporting Louis on his tour.

Niece YN's reaction to having her first Niece.

Mrs Burton YN's reaction to Lottie getting engaged.

Hair YN's reaction to Harry's new hairstyle.

Pregnancy Follow YN and Harry's journey through pregnancy.

2024:

Uncle Harry Harry and YN meet Gemma’s baby.

Wedding Bells Harry and YN finally say “I do!”.

Mr and Mrs Styles Instagram post from Harry and YN’s wedding.

Love Day Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.

Hormones YN gets emotional listening to Louis’ interview.

Birthday Twin YN and Harry welcome their baby girl into the world.

Uncle Louis Louis meets Grace for the first time.

Uncle Niall Niall meets Grace.

Dad Mode Harry is overprotective of Grace and worries about everything.

Love for Grace Instagram posts about Grace.

Big Cousin YN’s by Lottie’s side when she finds out she’s pregnant with baby number two.

Styles in Rome Harry, YN and Grace have their first family holiday in Italy.

Cool Sister Lottie talks about YN during her radio interview when promoting her new book.

Big Brother, Little Sister YN, Harry and Grace find out Baby Burton is going to be a girl.

Cousin Love Freddie meets Grace.

The Show Harry, YN and Grace go to Niall’s show in Manchester.

Bare Hands YN notices that Harry wears less rings and no nail polish.

[chxxrybxxmb]

: ̗̀➛ Met the professionals

Synopsis: after winning the U-20 match, Ego starts planning the third phase of the project and you were requested to come back a few days earlier than the players for a quick briefing and to introduce you the new people that you would be working with.

Reader is 18.

Warnings: fem!reader, English and Japanese honorifics, swearing, reader has a little brother, suggestive comment, reader wears a dress and has makeup on, flirting, hottest dilfs alive and Micheal Kaiser.

Ego in his sugar daddy era???

“How’re you, Ego-San? I hope that you’ve been eating well for the past two weeks since I wasn’t here to cook for you.” You grinned kindly at your boss, entering the high tech office. Placing your handbag on the table, Ego doesn’t look at you and continues to immerse himself in important data.

“What’re you my mother? I don’t need you to look after me.”

“If I don’t look after you, who’ll make Japan win the World Cup?” You sassed. Approaching the table the looked at the holographic data floating mid air. You still wonder to yourself how much money went into this and how high tech this all was.

“Anri-San told me over the phone that I should come back a few days earlier than the players, when I tell you that those boys-”

“Ah, ah.” He raises his hand over to your mouth, stopping you from saying anything and you huffed, sitting on the tables edge. “Alright, tell me-” A holographic screen slides to your direction, revealing the information before you.

“The third phase of this match is called the Neo Egoist League. Where players pick a team that matches their skills. This phase will introduce a variety of investments, including high salaries, various offers from different teams all over Europe to play in their leagues, and so many more,” you click on the icon, Germany and saw the familiar face of the one who beat Messi in a match from three years ago.

“Noel Noa…?”

“Oh, yeah. The teams the players will choose are England, Germany, Italy, France, and Spain. Each European team is an S-class team led by the most exceptional strikers…I think you already know them.” Cue for the familiar faces of famous football players to come into the screen. Chris Prince, Lavinho, Noel Noa, Marc Snuffy, and the familiar face of Julian Loki.

“After the players pick their respective teams, they will be separated into different stratums or buildings. Anri-Chan will be sending you the rest of the details. Don’t embarrass yourself when you’re up close with them.” He says, giving you a side eye as you stare at a picture of Snuffy. You immediately snapped back to your senses and swiped away the image of the Italian footballer.

“I-I won’t! What makes you say that?!” He huffs and pushes you off the table.

“Unpack your things and help the other staff with room preparations. You will be preparing for five teams with twenty plus players. Go away.” You huffed at him and fixed your clothes. “Can’t you be more gentle?! Geez!”

“What’s this?” You looked at the white box, wrapped with a black bow that Anri handed to you, she looks very excited you took notice. She beams at you as you placed it on the dining table.

“Open it! Ego-San got it for us.”

“That Vector look-a-like got us something? Are you sure he’s alright? Should I call a doctor?” You worried turned to the older woman. Cue for Ego to smack you on the back of you of your head with a file.

“Ow!”

“Be grateful, you waste of talent. I’m pretty sure you don’t have anything decent to wear.” He hissed, pointing at your working clothes and you gasped dramatically.

“These are my working clothes, asshat! I can’t run around working in a mini skirt.”

“Oh, come on, Ego-San. (Name)-Chan just got back and you’re already picking a fight with her!” Anri scolds the two of you, pulling both her boss and colleague apart before they tear each other apart. “Just open the gift and tell me if it fits. Don’t approach me if it isn’t your style.” Ego spoke, going into the kitchen to prepare himself yet another instant ramen packet.

“If it fits?” You thought a bit confused. Did he buy you clothes? Or maybe it’s a new staff uniform, either way, you pulled on the strands of the ribbon, making it come undone. You then lifted the cover and saw some white paper covering, Anri was squealing excited next to you. Moving away some of the wrapping, you soon realized that Ego had bought you a designer dress.

You took out the dress from the box and looked at it with eyes peeled open. Ego, your harsh boss, had bought you a dress that was totally your style and in your favorite color? Is the world ending?

“Omg, Ego-San, it looks beautiful on her, definitely (name)’s style!” Anri gushed at the man who didn’t respond. As you continued to admire the dress and its intricate appearance, Ego cleared his throat.

“Do the two of you have any jewelry?”

“I only brought a few earrings with me, nothing special.”

“The ones that I’m wearing, I don’t change into anything different unless it’s a special occasion.” You and Anri answered. You wondered why Ego bought you an expensive dress and asking you about jewelry, all he ever talked about was football not fashion.

“Ego-San, what’s with the dress? I don’t think I can wear this to anywhere and this must’ve been expensive!”

“Is that really what you have to say…?” You shut up and looked at Ego and his unusual behavior. He sounded a bit disappointed as he slurped on his noodles. You grinned at the realization and brought the dress to your chest.

“Thank you, Ego-San, truly.” You could’ve sworn you saw a smile on his face. “Are you smiling, Ego-San-?”

“Being delusional has its fucking limits, kid.”

“I may be delulu but my eyes aren’t lying, c’mon admit it, boss!” You continue to tease as he continues to deny your claims. Anri smiles at this interaction. For once you weren’t spouting insults at each other or trying to kill each other.

“Shut the fuck up and take this.” Ego had enough and tossed you and Anri small bags of yet again designer, products. You then looked at Ego and then at Anri. “In all seriousness, why’re you gifting us these and where did you get the money of all of this? Last I remembered, we ran out of funds cause of the second selection.”

“After winning the match, sponsors came flooding in to support the project. Hence the brands and how we’re able to afford those teams to collaborate with us.” Anri explains. Looking at the Selim Mouzannar box in her hands with bulging eyes. You had a similar reaction as her as you look at the Azlee brand necklace on your hands.

“You didn’t really have to buy us so much…”

“I wonder how much of this costs…”

“I only bought you both heels. The dresses, jewelry and makeup were gifts from the coaches.”

“…are they looking for a sugar baby?” Anri and Ego smacked you on the back of the head.

“You look so beautiful, (name)-Chan!!”

“Have you seen yourself, Anri-San? You look like you’re going to the met gala!” The red-haired woman blushes as your compliment. She wore a red satin floor length dress with off shoulders. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a different person. You looked even more beautiful with the makeup on with lips were colored in lipstick. Your dress hugged every curve of your body and the jewelry made you look mature and expensive.

All in all, you look like you were going to a ball. Like a Princess.

“You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“I… I’m scared I’m gonna ruin this dress, like, what if I accidentally spill food or drinks on me?!” You continued on with your nervous rant about possibly ruining the dress, she sighs and grabs you the shoulders, pushing her face closer to yours. “(Name)-Chan, nothing is going to happen to you or the dress! They gave you this dress and it’s your choice what to do with it.”

She reasons and you nodded tentatively. She smiles and picked up her handbag, so did you.

“I’m amazed Ego-San wanted to host a welcome party of the teams.”

“I was actually the JFU who arranged this occasion.” You looked at Anri as if she grew a second head and laughed uncertainly. “Ahaha… really?”

“Really.”

“Like… really, really?” She nods and you scoffed. “Now that he lost our little bet, he’s sucking up to us? Serves him right for doubting us.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen how Ego-San reacted when the president told him about hosting a welcome party!” Hand in arm, the two women were immersed in their conversation as they walked down the dystopian-core hallways of blue lock and exited the premises where a wagoneer jeep waited in the entrance.

“I think Ego-San is indulging himself a little bit too much.”

“That car was sent by the JFU, dumbass.” Ego sighs as he walked out from the glass doors, clad in a navy blue suit with a bolo football tie. He didn’t look all that much to different from his usual getup. The suit was reminiscent of the one he wore in the U-20 match.

You immediately noticed at the bolo tie was a little loose and went in front of him, taking a hold of the tie. Ego seemed surprised at the sudden closeness and pulled away.

“What the hell?”

“Stand still, your tie looks sloppy…” You murmured, tightening it. Ego sighs and lifts his head a little to give you space, Anri smiles in amusement at this rare moment between the two of you. Like a daughter fixing her fathers tie before he goes off to work. It was adorable in her opinion.

You pulled away and looked pleased with Ego’s appearance with a smile. “Let’s go?”

“Let’s.”

You looked at awe at the building where the welcome party was taking place. You initially thought it was going to be at blue lock but apparently JFU didn’t deem your building fancy enough and held the welcome party at a five star hotel. As you wrapped your arm around Anri’s forearm, you peered through the city of Tokyo from the glass window of the elevator. It looked like a sparkling jewelry box from up there. The doors open and Anri pulls you along with her.

Anxiety emptied your stomach as your hands grew sweaty around Anri’s plushy arm. The older woman looks at you with a gentle smile that made your worries go away. You then looked Ego who had his hands on the large doors in front of you three, he looks at the two of you and you nodded confidently.

Ego pushes the doors open and you were welcomed by a flood of overlapping chatter, elegant women dressed in designer clothing and men stood tall and erect in their identical-looking suits. The hall looked massive with a balcony on the right side of the room.

Everyone stopped with what they were doing and bore their eyes into the three of you. Now you felt like you were going to throw up if they continue to stare at you any longer.

“If it isn’t the mastermind behind this amazing project!” You heard a boisterous voice boom your ears. You looked up and saw the fat rodent that is the president of the JFU waddling his way towards your direction. The feeling of nausea was replaced with disgruntled feeling as you held on Anri’s arm a little tighter.

“Chairmen, thank you for arranging this welcome party for the teams.” Ego thanked the bloated tanuki. He was uncharacteristically polite. Your brows furrowed deeper and the corners of your mouth tilts down as he glanced at you and Anri, he gulps and looks back the bull-cut-haired man.

“I-it’s the least we can do. Because with blue lock, I know we can win the World Cup with your guidance!” He spoke and the others in the room erupted in praises and applause.

“We’ll be doing our best to do so. Thank you for financially supporting our project.” Anri replied with a light bow and so did you, “I’ll be supporting the players as best as I can since I’m the manager and all of that.”

The chairmen then usher the three of you to the rest of the JFU members for some reason. You didn’t talk all that much and looked around the banquet hall, “tell me, (name)-Chan. How the players generally act?”

“Generally act?”

“What’s their behavior towards the other players? I’m quite curious.” One of the members asked. You tried to think of an answer without revealing the fact that everyone is at each other's throats, “well, they remain respectful to each other, off and on the field,” that was a bit of a lie considering Isagi calling Baro a donkey mid-game.

“They work hard and dedicate themselves, body and soul to the sport. They accept defeats to grow better not only as a player but as a person.” You replied truthfully this time, fiddling with the fabric of the dress. They took your word for it and seemed intrigued by your answers with nods and hums.

“And how do they act towards you? Since you’re one of the many female managers after all.” They smirked with suggestion. You sucked in the corner of your bottom lip to avoid snapping at him. What was even going through their sick heads? Do they want this project to end with just one sexual speculation?

“Respect… we maintain a distance that is manager and player. We don’t have a rather close and intimate relationship with each other.” That was a bit of a lie. The players acted relatively close to you but still maintained a respectable presence with you.

Aryu runs his hands in your hair while complimenting your makeup and outfit. Chigiri would ask you to play with his hair. You were terrible at it, but he didn’t mind. Otoya would constantly flirt and ask for your number. Karasu and Yukimiya would save you from him. Baro, Kunigami, and all the other boys would try to pitch in to help you. Bachira would always hug you whenever you entered the room. Nagi trails behind you like a lost puppy, along with Reo, who would talk your ear off about the stock market and ask you to go out on a date with him once he’s out of blue lock.

And so many more, the boys acted like you were friends at school which made you feel comfortable with your stay and you really appreciated the boys and their behavior towards you.

“Is that so? Nothing-?”

“Hey, shithead. Do you think it’s a good idea to ask a girl who's 18 if she’s having intimate relations with a bunch of guys who are 18 and below? That’s fucking disgusting.” Ego spat in a whisper to the man as he pulled you by the wrist and hid you behind him. Your eyes widen as well as the JFU member, and he stammers out an apology that Ego didn’t take so kindly.

You looked up at Ego as he glared in disgust at the man. With your heart beating against your chest as if it wanted to break free, sweat pooling into the palm of your heads, you pulled on Ego’s cuffs, and he turned his attention towards you.

“Ego-San, let’s not cause a scene…” you whispered lowly, gesturing to your side. Spectators were turning their heads at the three of you, who were drawn to what you were discussing. Ego looks at you, then back at the man. There was an unreadable expression on his face before he clicked his tongue and gestured for you to follow him.

“Don’t show your putrid face to me or my staff.” He hissed before walking away from the man with eyes following your every move like owls, but one look from Ego, and they returned to their conversations.

“Ego-San… thank you for doing that. I greatly appreciate it.” You spoke, pulling on the mans wrist. He stops and looks at you before flicking your forehead. “The hell?!”

“Be more careful next time when you encounter nosey pigs like him-”

“So you do have a heart in there, Jinpachi Ego.” You heard a voice state amused from behind. You couldn’t understand what he was saying. It sounded like German. You whirled around and saw the mystery man.

It was Noel Noa. Clad in a suit and bow tie. He had a stoic and serious expression with an ever-present frown on his lips, gold eyes dull into Ego’s obsidian pair of eyes before he shifted his focus to you and then back to him. When both your eyes met, you felt your heart rate go faster than ever before.

It was the Noel Noa. In the flesh! The greatest striker in the world, standing in front of you!!

You have seen this man in your television or phone but seeing him in the flesh was whole new experience.

‘Omg, omg, omg, omg, omg, omg-’

“What’s that supposed to mean, you stoic robot?” Ego hissed in German. You looked back and forth between the two. They seemed to know each other, you observed as they casually conversed with each other. “Seeing how you stood up for your female employee is out of character. I thought you weren’t Ego when I saw you.”

“Do you know each other, Ego-San?”

“In a way. Wear these. You’ll need it when communicating with the other coaches.” Ego fished out a small black box that had Blue Lock’s symbol on it. You took it from his grasp and opened the box. There were black wireless earbuds.

“Earbuds?”

“Reo Mikage’s family had decided to sponsor Blue Lock and give us one of their products. That being translator earbuds, it’s light and won’t come off no matter how much you move around, and it’s hardly noticeable.” You wore it, and it almost felt unnoticeable. You then turned to the striker and slight bow.

“What is Ego Jinpachi like at work, Ms.Manager?” You were a little shocked, hearing him speak so clearly in Japanese with a believable accent. These earbuds are something else.

“O-oh, well. He can very harsh and would constantly criticize you for the littlest thing.”

“That’s accurate enough.”

“You damn brat.”

“I’m (name) (last name), Mr.Noa. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I’ve heard many things about you from Ego.”

“Good or bad?”

“A bit of both.” You sighed hearing his quick response.

“Although, he often notes how you go above and beyond with your work despite being so young,” Noa mentioned—taking a sip of his champagne. You worked up hearing his statement and looked at Ego, who didn’t meet your eyes.

“Ego-San sometimes shares with me his instant noodles and such.” On occasion, when you would be busy with your work, Ego would always make you some instant noodles for a snack to go with your work. It touched your heart as he did care for you after all. (Before he berates you for doing absolutely nothing)

“How… amusing.” Noel glances at his friend, whose eyes softened by a fraction. The striker was quick to take a champagne glass from a waiter's tray and hand it to you.

“Ms. (Last name), you wouldn’t mind if you left your boss and me alone for a while? So we can talk a little about this passion project of his.”

“Of course, have fun.” You whispered before walking away from the two men, placing a hand above your beating heart, and your lips formed a shaky smile—excitement and adrenaline running through your veins. You did your darn best to keep your smile under wraps in favor of showing a calm and professional side of you to the man himself.

“I need to tell Anri-San about this—!” You spun your head from left to right to find the red-haired woman, but you saw her surrounded by sponsors, with Anri conversing seriously with them.

You decided to calm your excitement down and walked around the ballroom. You had to admit, this was something you would see in a movie. The piano was playing in the middle room; you were drawn to its alluring melody, and before you knew it, you were in front of the grand piano while admiring pianist playing.

“Are you into classical music, Miss?” A man purrs into your ear from behind. You recoiled away upon feeling a person's hot breath against your ear. “Haha! Didn’t mean to scare you there, lovely.”

The man had short, curly blond hair, sapphire blue eyes and a mole in the corner of his right lip. He had a well-built body, the suit fitting snuggly in his body. He was taller than you, your head level with his chest.

“I don’t think it’s good manners to suddenly whisper into someone’s without even introducing yourself.” You retorted lightly at the man, and he raised his hands in a playful gesture. “Sorry, miss. I thought I saw a diamond in the corner of my eyes.”

He confessed with a lazy grin. You sighed softly at his attempt at flirting, and you looked back at him. He seemed familiar like you’d seen him before.

“Maybe it’s because of my necklace.”

“I wouldn’t think that if I were you, lovely.” He winks at you, you left a bit uncomfortable with him. “Umm, I just turned 18, I’m not that to comfortable with someone older by a few years older than me…”

“Ahahaha!! Just wait until the fans see this, Chrissy!” A boisterous voice boomed from across the room. A man with tanned skin and wild blond hair, swung his arm over to Chrissy. He wore a black suit with a gold blouse, some of the buttons undid to reveal his chest tattoos.

“You were the one who told me to do it! Miss, I am truly sorry.”

“No, he’s not. He was, like ‘dude, check out that girl with in that dress, she super fine, ‘m gonna go talk to her and hold my drink.’ Basically.” The man matter of factly. Chrissy’s jaw dropped and looked at you who was trying to process this information.

“Lavinho, you’re this worst!”

Wait, Lavinho? As in that famous Brazilian dribbler? Whose representing the Spanish team Barcha?

“You’re… Lavinho?” You spoke and the man turns to you before grinning ear-to-ear. He took your hand and bowed.

“In the flesh, pretty lady! Man, am I lucky to have gorgeous woman like you to know my name. It’s an honor.” He boasts to himself before he grabbed his friend by the arm.

“By the way, this is Chris Prince! But call him Chrissy, though, it’s cute right? Chrissy, Chrissy~”

“Oh my gosh, can you stop? You’re embarrassing me in front of her!” Chris Prince, commonly known as worlds no.2, whispered harshly into Lavinho’s ear, who blew raspberries into his face.

“Oh my gosh, are you immature!” You couldn’t help but laugh at their shenanigans. You never expected them to be this carefree in person. It was fun!

“Let’s calm down now.” You cooed at them, trying to stop Chris from pulling on Lavinho’s collar. “What the lady said, Chrissy. Calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“Says who?”

As Chris was about to strangle Lavinho, you hurriedly took him by the arm and tried to anchor him down with your body weight.

“Let’s calm down! We wouldn’t want to attract too much attention now, do we?” You stammered nervously as the crowd’s eyes were on the three of you. How many times has it already been since the attention was suddenly focused on you.

“You heard the lady, Princey-”

“That includes you, Mr.Lavinho.” He looks at you with shock and Chris glanced at Lavinho with a victorious smirk.

“He’s such a wild person, isn’t he, lovely?”

“A little bit.”

“What?!”

“But not in a bad way.”

“I knew I could trust in you, pretty lady!” Lavinho laughed as he slamming his palms on your shoulders making you wince.

“I hope you can forgive me for that initial greeting, miss?”

“Oh, right. I never introduced myself! My name is (name) (last name) and I’m the manager of Blue lock. It’s a pleasure meeting you both, Mr.Lavinho and Mr.Prince. And it’s alright, Mr.Prince. You didn’t do anything if offense anyway. You briefly introduced yourself with a bow and a smile.

“Oh~! So you’re the woman glasses mentioned we would be working with! Nice to meet you too. Hope we can work together soon!” Lavinho grinned as did Chris.

“Are you a model by any chance? I mean, you have the potential one.” Chris asked curiously. Your posture and beauty were very much similar to models. He would know as he posed with some female models in the past.

“I actually did some modeling jobs when I was 16. Although I’m currently on a break.”

“Ha! I knew it! A beautiful girl like you would be scouted sooner or later. Hey, how about we do a shoot-?”

“She told you she was taking a break from the cameras, Chris.” Another man reminded to the English man with a sigh as he came from behind you and smiled at you apologetically. He had short blond hair and large emerald green eyes with a very well defined nose.

“I’m so sorry about him, Ms.(name). Please don’t let him bother you.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind doing a shoot with him.”

“See?! It’s almost impossible to say no to this handsome face.” Chris laughs. Pulling out a hand mirror and admires himself, smiling at the mirror and winking at himself.

“Is he… usually like that?”

“Sadly.”

“You seem to know me.”

“I happen to overhear you introducing yourself, my name is Marc Snuffy. Call me Snuffy. It’s a pleasure meeting one of Blue Lock’s beautiful managers.” Snuffy grinned kindly at you making your heart skip a beat.

“Beautiful? Now, I think that’s a stretch!”

“Not what the posts say about you.” He laughs lightly, pulling out a phone to reveal screenshots of a Tiktok comment section filled with compliments and love towards you.

“I must say, the media quite likes you after those little videos with you and Pablo Cavasoz dancing.” You glowered in embarrassment as you remembered the famous baby-face Argentina player, who was mysteriously drawn to you and dragged you to Harajuku with you to film Tiktok dance video’s in the middle of the street or inside the stores and to go shopping.

Never again were you going to be bribed with food and a promise of manicures.

“I-I’m honestly flattered that you think that way, Mr.Snuffy. Thank you. You’re Uber’s coach, right?”

"Correct and I hope my team wouldn't be too much of a trouble to deal with." He jokes lightly making you laugh.

"Have you seen my players? They would be at each other's throats if I look away for a couple of seconds! Like my Rin and Isagi for example."

"Considering the fact that your no.10 dodged a hug from 11... I'd say that their relationship is..."

"Rough? Absolutely."

"We all have those friends." You and continues to conversed at one another about your teams along with his. Snuffy is quite the gentleman you noted. Very polite and respectful.

"Yo, Snuffy. When're we gonna go back to the dorms, 'm tired." You heard someone complain. A man with messy black hair with purple tips and dark purple eyes, laid his head on the Uber's captain's shoulder with a sigh. You rubbed your eyes to wear off any drowsiness as you thought the man had gold teeth for a second.

"It's only 10 pm, Lorenzo and button up your shirt." Snuffy scolded Lorenzo who groaned but stopped midway as he saw you. "Who's this pretty lady, Snufs?"

"Her name is (name) and she's Blue Lock's manager. Be kind."

"Isn't she on the news one time? Like people thought she was Pablo's girlfriend or stuff." You sunk on the floor in embarrassment, remembering the countless news articles that you were his girlfriend. You even got a call from your father who was pissed at you for keeping your not-boyfriend a secret.

"Erm, I'm actually not his girlfriend... hehe, it was an misunderstanding."

"Huh, really?"

"Yup, the media assumed that we were dating just from a few videos of us dancing and doing some sightseeings around Harajuku."

"I see. So yer gonna be our new manager?"

"As far as I know, yea."

"Let's be friends then! Snuf, 'mma borrow her real quick." Lorenzo immediately went towards you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and waved goodbye at Snuffy who told the two of you to have fun.

"Names Don Lorenzo but just call me whatever you want since we're gonna be friends and all."

"Alright, Mr-"

"And no Mister and all that title shit, just call me Lorenzo or whatever- oh! Snuffy does call me Donny at times."

"So is Lorenzo alright with you?"

"Totes." Lorenzo was quite the character. He's friendly and a laidback type of guy, you felt at ease just by being with him as you started to slip from your professional mode. You were enjoying yourself with Lorenzo as the two of you conversed with other topics other than football.

"By the way, are this gold grills on your teeth?" You asked curiously. The two of you were seated a couch with a plate of crackers, cheese and caramel popcorn. He stops eating the popcorn and pulled on the corner of his mouth to give you a full view of his gold teeth.

"These babies? Nah, before all of this, i was some homeless kid on the streets of Italy, begging and robbin' people of their money until Snuffy came into my life askin' me if I wanna play football with him,"

"I was like, 'what's up with this dude? He crazy as fuck,' so then I was like 'replace my rotten teeth with golden ones' and do you know what he did afterwards?"

"He immediately dragged you to the nearest dentist and had it replaced with gold teeth?"

"Exactly! You're so smart." Lorenzo praises, throwing popcorn in the air and caught some with his mouth while also missing some, which you then picked up from the couch and ate it so it won't go to waste.

"Who knew that Mr.Snuffy is such a kind man."

"Kindest in the world. He's the type of person to not give up on others just cause." The player says fondly. You grabbed your champagne glass and felt it was unusually light, you then saw that it was empty. "I'm out of champagne. I'll go grab some more."

"Nah, I'll do it. You sit your pretty self here."

"Thanks but I can handle it, Lorenzo." You pat his shoulder before taking off with your empty glass and towards the bar for a quick refill.

You arrived at the bar and leaned against the counter. "Excuse me but can I get a refill in champagne? Non-alcoholic if there is."

"In a second."

"Can I get a martini?" Someone ask beside you. You glanced at them saw the familiar fluffy hair of brown to purple beside you.

"Are you... Alexis Ness from Bastard Munchen, by any chance?" The man beside you perks up upon hearing his name and turned to you with a nod and a kind grin.

"Yes and you're?"

"(Name) (last name). One of Blue lock's managers. It's nice to see you this evening, Mr.Ness."

"Please no need to call me Mister, just call me Ness and the pleasure is all mine.”

“Ness it is then. About that match with (club name), you did a good job out there.” You praise the player. You watched his match with (club name) a few weeks ago and was amazed at Ness’s clean assist and passes to a star player in his team.

“Really? I didn’t do all that much, it was all-”

“Why would you say that? Your assists were clean and quick. Not even the other players knew you would do it.” You interrupted Ness, and you meant every word you said. He looks at you in shock before red soon blossoms on his cheeks.

“You really think so?”

“Yea, although… I do have a tiny teeny problem…” Ness frowns upon hearing your last words. He had hoped he would gain a fan after all his hard work, but it seemed his efforts-

“That you didn’t score any goals!” Now that left him confused.

“E-excuse me?”

“You’re obviously a great player with amazing dribbling and passing skills, so why don’t you use it score your own goals? I mean, seriously, I hoped you would score that last goal before you passed to number 10.” You went on a little rant, and Ness stood there in awe with your words.

You weren’t focused with Kaiser but instead your attention was on Ness and even wanted him to score goals!

His heart started to beat even faster when you were praising his work and sets of skills. Ness looked up and got a good look at you, he had to admit, you were very beautiful in that dress.

“Kaiser is Bastard Munchen’s Ace so we dedicate all of the goals towards him.”

“But isn’t that letting your own skills go to waste? You’re hindering yourself just so that your number 10 can win. How about this?” You grabbed Ness by the arm and sat him on the stools, and you sat across him. Leaning towards his shoulder, you narrowed the distance of your lips to his ears. Ness’s heartbeat grew increasingly erratic as you drew closer. He felt your hot breath against the shell of his ear and smelled the perfume in your skin, blending with the champagne you were drinking.

“Your ace knows that you would be passing to him for every game, no?”

“Yes…”

“And I’m also sure that the rest of your team along with Mr.Noa would be aware of this fact. What I’m trying to say is that,”

“When trying to pass to your beloved Ace, change course and score the goal for yourself. I’m sure the opposing team would also know about your play style. Therefore, they would surround your ace to prevent a successful pass from approaching him.” You explained with a mischievous smile after seeing Ness’s shocked expression. Gone was his ear-to-ear grin as it was replaced with an open mouth.

“B-but Kaiser-”

“So what about him? He can score his own goals if he’s your so-called ace. Ness, you’re an amazing player, but you lack the independence of one or, rather… the ego of one. Omg… I’m starting to sound like Ego-San.” You pulled away from Ness and seriously contemplated your words. Ness, however, was silent as he let your words sink deep into his consciousness. You looked at Ness’s blank face, and yours swelled in embarrassment.

He probably didn’t understand your rambling. Even when you thought you sounded cool saying it!! You stood hastily after the bartender finally refilled your drink and cleared your throat.

“I probably wasn’t making any sense. This is more on Ego-San’s department. Forget I said anything, Ness-”

“No… I was hoping you could explain more about this ego. Please… I want to learn more about it, Ms.(name).” Ness took hold of your wrist and slightly tightened his grip on you. His tone… it sounded like he was begging you.

You stared at the B.M player with a conflicting mindset as you looked between your drink and Ness.

“So this is why my drink has been taking a long time. I didn’t know you were busy flirting with a girl, Ness.” A man purrs condescendingly as he struts towards you both. Ness reluctantly lets go of your wrist and looks shamefully to the side. “So-”

“And who is this lovely lady keeping you company, hm?” The man in front of you grinned at Ness. He had blond hair styled into a long mullet with blue fades. He wore a dark blue suit and matched it with a tie. Something was peeking from his collar, but you couldn’t determine what it was, probably a tattoo or something.

“(Name) (last name), one of the managers of Blue Lock, and I take it that you’re Kaiser?” His smile grows as his name rolls out from your tongue, and he takes your hand, fluttering his lips over your knuckles before he firmly presses his lips on your knuckles.

“Micheal Kaiser, das Fräulein. Star player of Bastard Munchen.” The Ace says matter-of-factly with a grin, and you smile at him uncomfortably, looking at the area where he kissed.

“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.” You repeated in your head as you tried to pull back your hand, but Kaiser gripped you as he incoherently conversed with Ness.

“I take it that you know Blue Lock’s Ace: Isagi Yoich? That plain looking guy.” Your lips turned into frowns hearing him describe your friend.

“Yes. Is there something you wanted to ask him?”

“Oh no, I was just making sure that you were his specific manager. After all, I would want him to look at your face once I humiliate him.”

“Excuse me?” You honestly expected Kaiser to be a prideful person. That was for sure. But for him to straight up admit his intentions in front of you? Now, that was a bold him.

“I think you heard me, (name). I plan to make Isagi Yoichi, the hero of Blue Lock, an obstacle for me to overcome. Make sure he’s worthy of that title.” Kaiser requested you like it was a normal thing to ask. As your glare towards him hardened, Kaiser couldn't care less. You slowly exhaled, placed your glass gently, and pushed yourself towards him.

“As you wish, I’ll make sure Isagi Yoichi will be an impossible obstacle for you to overcome.” Now it was his turn to be annoyed as he took his vacant hand and roughly grabbed your upper arm to pull you closer. His face was nearing yours with a cocky snarl.

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise, rather.”

“To think that Blue Lock would have such a feisty manager, I wonder how Jinpachi Ego leashed you.”

“Leashed me? Do you think I’m some kind of dog?!”

“Oh, I know! You’re the character who blindly placed her fate into the clown who thought of himself as the main character, but that’s going to change once I step into the field,” he removes his grip from your upper arm and clasps his hand around your jaw to pull your face even closer to his. You instinctively tried to tear away, but his strength proved greater than yours.

“I could just imagine what dear Isagi’s face will look like once I humiliate him in front of his pretty manager.”

“As if that would happen.” You rasped, trying to pry his hand away from your face. As Ness was about to intervene finally, Lorenzo came into sight, taking hold of Kaiser’s wrist with a deadly grip, his gold teeth shining against the light, and the Italian let out a whistle in amusement.

“Damn, Kaiser… never you would act like a dick if a girl don’t wanna be with ya.”

“Where did you come from, you damn zombie?”

“Wonderin’ where (name) was at, said she was goin’ to refill her drink. Didn’t know you were holding her hostage.” The two-star players glared at each other in disdain. Kaiser started to feel the blood being cut off from his hand and he rips away his grip from your face. You stepped back and massaged your jaw.

“Are you alright, (name)? I’m sorry I couldn’t-”

“It’s alright. I expected he act like this. Fucking prick.” You huffed, drinking your champagne as Ness looks ashamed.

“Honestly… I should’ve intervened when he grabbed you by the arm. I’m so sorry-”

“Ness, Ness, baby, love.” You sweet-talked and grabbed his jaw gently. (Unlike someone) “It’s alright, I get it. We all freeze sometimes, even I do. So you don’t gotta worry about it, okay?” You smiled. Expecting him to agree with you and let all of this be over with. He tentatively nodded, and you let go of his jaw before turning to the bartender. “Actually, can I get the bottle?”

Before the bartender could hand you the bottle, Lorenzo snatched it from him, took you the waist and led you away from the bar, making a mocking face at Kaiser.

“See ya in the field, naked emperor!” The Italian player laughs as he waves and pours you a drink. You turned to Ness and gave him a smile and wave, which he returned. You met Kaiser’s glare and returned it with a glare and a middle finger.

“Is he always so arrogant?”

“24/7, babe. 24/7.” Lorenzo sighs, patting your shoulder. “Hey, your lipstick… Kaiser must’ve smudged it.” He stares at the colored streak nearing your jaw. You placed your finger on it and saw the colored stain on your finger. You hissed at the sight and covered the lower half of your face.

“Damn that rat. Lorenzo, I’ll be back. Need to fix myself.”

“Sure, I’ll be on the couch!” He removed his arm, and you speed-walked through the crowd towards the hallway where the servers were going in and out. You swiftly dodged the waiters that’s were carrying snacks and drinks, you saw a waiter who seemed to be on break, seeing that she was on her phone.

“Excuse me, miss. Where’s the bathroom?” She looks up from her phone and points at the direction where to go.

“Second to the last door on the left.”

“Thanks.” And with that you immediately took off.

During the trip toward the bathroom, you recalled your rather eventful evening. A JFU member asking disgusting questions, Ego saving you, meeting Noel Noa, Chris Prince flirting with you, Lavinho laughing at Chris, Marc Snuffy appearing, Don Lorenzo whisking you away from the night, meeting Ness and getting harassed(?) by Micheal Kaiser.

And here you thought you would be the loner who escaped from the party to the safe haven that was the balcony. So much for that, at least. As you wiped the stain away, you were quick to reapply a new batch on your skin but before you exited the bathroom, you took a few photos of yourself for good measure and sent a few to your brother to let him decide which ones should you post as you were indecisive.

[You sent 15 photos]

You: which one of these do I look the prettiest?

Little demon: none

You: what if I tell Ma and pa?

Little demon: Your alrd pretty tho but for me 1 4 9 and 13 are the best ones

You: I know I’m pretty. I’ll be positing these soon after party

Little demon: don’t post. Dress is revealing. I can see your BOOBS

You: only a little :(

Little demon: what if I tell Ma and pa?

You: I hate you

Little demon reacted: 👍

You huffed seeing your younger brothers weak response and before you could text something back, you bumped into someone’s side.

“Sorry- (name)?” The man spoke, and you looked up to find the black French player in front of you wearing a suit paired with a bow tie. You lit up seeing the player and tucked away your phone to give him a big hug.

“Loki!! Oh my gosh, how’re you?”

“I’m fine. It’s good to see you again after a couple of weeks. Mr.Pablo has been bombarding me with texts asking for your socials. That man won’t give up.” He sighs as he pulls away from you, and you laugh.

“You might have you endure that for a little while longer, Loki dear.” He sighs again and you took him by the arm and dragged him down the hall.

“I heard we’ll be working together again. Good luck to us then.” Loki says, patting your hand before giving you a kind smile, which you return. The two of you reentered the ballroom and went your separate ways. Loki said he couldn’t leave his team alone as they would likely cause a scene without him there.

“I’ll see you at work, peace maker.”

“Have a fun evening, (name).” Then you went back to where Lorenzo was sitting, spending the rest of the evening with the Italian, joking, judging other people, talking about your respective counties and your experience with football.

____________________________________________

This only took me 3 weeks to finish what a record 🙏

I hope you guys enjoyed this long ass fanfic, this was originally gonna be like 2 parts but then I decided to publish this a whole rather than separate parts.

Reblogs are much appreciated!! I love you all I hope you guys have a great day!

-@chxxrybxxmb

[kitten4sannie]

15 - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ - ᴍɪɴɢɪ

ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴅ

pairing: himbo bf! mingi x fem! reader feat. yunho, san, and seonghwa

genre: college/frat au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is really bad at taking hints.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, weed mention, switch! mingi, switch! reader, mingi has a big dick, pet names, name calling, dirty talk, grinding, begging, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), bulge kink, exhibitionism, voyeurism, poor attempt at humor

a/n: love me a good himbo <3 this man is dumb in this just how i like themmm. also the song i imagine playing during the dance scene is “deep” by summer walker <3

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

You never particularly enjoyed the drink options at frat house parties. They only ever had giant kegs full of cheap beer, along with an endless supply of Tito’s vodka, swearing they had a life supply stocked up in the basement. When you asked Mingi’s friend Yunho where the soda was, all he did was shake his head and say in a slurred voice, “Coach said we gotta cut out sugar.” You genuinely wondered if he was trying to make a joke or if he was 100% serious, but the serious lack of anything chaser-related was making you think he wasn’t lying to you. It seemed like football players were fueled by countless liters of alcohol and protein powder alone. No wonder they were so aggressive on the field.

“Here,” Yunho said, handing you a solo cup filled to the brim with beer, his reddened eyes still friendly and bright. “My brother makes it himself.” You gave him a smile and a thanks, before scanning the crowd for Mingi. 

Once you found him, you took a few sips of the watered-down beer Yunho gave you, zoning in and out of the heated conversation your boyfriend was having with his friends about whether professional sports were rigged or not.

“Baby, can you please back me up?” Mingi asked in a whiny voice, snaking an arm around your waist, fingers squeezing you, his plump lips forming a pout. “Tell Seonghwa how stupid he is for thinking sports are fake.”

God, he was so fucking cute. You needed him. Needed to see him pout when he begged you to bounce on his dick. 

Taking a long swig of the glorified water, you cleared your throat, leaning your body against Mingi’s. “Seonghwa, I think it’s really bold of you to assume they’re all fake, and honestly, I think you might just be in denial since your teams never win.” 

The rest of Mingi’s drunk companions erupted in low ‘ooh’s’ and ‘damns’, some of them nodding their heads in agreement. San, who was already fucked up, made a show out of his reaction, smacking Seonghwa’s shoulder with his hand and pointing a finger at him, grinning at his friends. “He literally never bets on the right team. It’s so fucking funny.” 

Irritated, Seonghwa scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his beer with one hand shoved into his pocket. “Where’d you find this one, Mingi?” 

“Don’t start.” Mingi clutched you against his side defensively, taking a sip from his drink. “Or else I’ll put hot chili oil in your jockstrap, like I did during your hazing.” 

That shut Seonghwa up, leading him to hold his hands up in defeat. Mingi idly stroked your hair while continuing his conversation with his friends, this time talking about their favorite plays from last night’s game. You went back to being bored, but this time your mind was swimming with thoughts of Mingi stroking your hair while his cock was down your throat. 

That was it. You needed to jump into action. However, you didn’t want to be too forward, not wanting to ask for Mingi’s cock in front of at least a quarter of the football team — though a part of you wanted them to know that he was about to pound you into oblivion. 

“Baby, I’m so cold,” you whined softly, looking up at Mingi with the cutest expression you could conjure up, rubbing your bare arms up and down. “Can you warm me up?” 

“Of course, doll.” Mingi let go of you and pulled his letterman jacket off, leaving him in a plain white, rather tight-fitting t-shirt. He put it over your shoulders, smiling at you. “Better?” As soon as you nodded and gave you a small smile back, he went back to talking to his buddies.

Damn. Too subtle. You weren’t about to give up, though. After staring into the distance for a while, idly sipping on your beer and still wishing you had access to a coke, you hatched another plan. Feeling ecstatic when a R&B song finally came on, knowing it would be easier to get into instead of the rap that was blasting out of the speakers a minute ago, you rubbed your hand up Mingi’s waist, lifting yourself up on your heels to murmur into his ear, “Baby, I want to dance. I really like this song.” 

Ignoring San’s begs for him to duel him in a game of beer pong, Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple, slipping his hand underneath his oversized jacket to touch the small of your back. “Let’s go then.” 

Maybe he was being subtle, too. How hot of him. “Yay~” You pulled his jacket off and walked over to Yunho, who was talking to someone else. You gave him the jacket, and in turn, he gave you a quick smile and put it over his shoulder to look after. 

Once the two of you were on the dance floor, which was just the oversized living room filled with drunken, sweaty people, you turned away from Mingi and pressed yourself into him, running your hands down your snug dress along to the tempo of the music. Mingi placed his hands instinctively on your swaying hips, moving along with you, leaning himself down to press his lips onto your jaw. Completely immersed in your own world, the bass thumping inside your ears, you began grinding on him in a more deliberate way, his heavy cock growing hard against your ass, making your brain feel fuzzy.

“Baby, they can see us, you know,” he mumbled under his breath, trying to pretend he couldn’t see Yunho waving at him from the kitchen and giving him a thumbs up. He definitely wouldn’t look at San, who was grabbing his imaginary tits and moaning obnoxiously loud. And he didn’t even notice Seonghwa staring at the both of you with contempt, even though there was a faint blush on his cheeks. 

You, however, noticed and acted accordingly. “Let them watch.” Placing your hands over his and guiding them up your body, you arched your back, squeezing your tits using his hands instead. Curious, you glanced over at the kitchen, finding Mingi’s friend's dumbstruck expressions to be particularly entertaining. That would give them something to talk about, instead of rambling about football for another hour. 

“Mmm…” Mingi buried his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, slowly brushing his fingers over your nipples through the thin material of your dress. 

Your plan finally worked, in the best way possible, more turned on knowing his friends were watching, but not being able to do more than that and having to live through Mingi when he explained all the different times you unraveled for him. He always made sure to leave out the countless times he did that, since he always ended up drooling and begging for you to make him cum with your tight cunt. 

It took one more roll of your boyfriend’s hips and a single tit squeeze for you to sigh, “Fuck, Mingi, you’re making me feel so hot…” 

Mingi suddenly ceased all movement as a loading screen appeared inside his mind. “You were cold just a second ago.” He tilted his head, idly rubbing your arms and feeling how warm they were, before bringing his lips to your ear, his voice laced with concern when he asked, “Yeah, you feel really hot. You’re not getting a fever, are you, doll?” His eyebrows rose with concern, his lips forming a pout once again. “You kissed me a bunch before practice earlier – and, oh my god, babe, you sucked my dick. That’s like, direct contact, right?” He gasped, clasping a hand to his face, his concern almost borderline comical, but the poor frat boy was completely serious. “Do you think I’ll get a fever too now? I can’t miss practice!”

“No, baby, that’s not…” You bit your lip, too desperate to have him inside you to get annoyed. Turning around, you ran your hands up his torso, from his abdomen to his pecs, suggesting gently, “You know, a good way to get rid of a fever is to sweat it out, Min. Come with me.” 

Once you led your boyfriend to the nearest empty bedroom, you shut the door and pushed him down onto the bed, licking your lips at the sight of him. Mingi was laying down on the mattress with his limbs spread out, his shirt just barely riding up past his hips, revealing his treasure trail. He observed his surroundings, taking note of the plushies sitting next to the pillows, before looking up at you with vague confusion. “This is San’s room. Why are we here?”

“Why do you think, baby?” you asked softly, kicking your heels off, prior to climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him, your body buzzing with anticipation. 

Mingi gave you a sweet smile, running his fingers through his soft brown hair, slowly leaning his head against the firm pillow behind his head. “You want to sleep?” 

“No, baby…” you started, straddling his lap and gazing down at him with love and lust in your hooded eyes, your hand settling on his broad chest. “I want to play…”

Mingi admired you, slowly running his hands from your thighs up to your waist, taking your words literally like he usually did. “Like Legos? I think Seonghwa has some in his room.” 

You couldn’t possibly get mad at Mingi, finding it adorable how incredibly dense he was. It was a good thing he had such a thick skull; it would definitely prevent him from getting any more head injuries whenever he collided with another player on the field. It was probably time to stop being coy and just tell him what you wanted point blank. No nuance. No hints. Just your raw desire. 

 “I want to ride your cock, Min. So bad. All night I’ve been thinking about you stretching me out,” you admitted, biting the tip of one of your fingers. Your thighs pressed into his hips, your core throbbing at the thought of impaling yourself on his oversized dick for the sake of being filled by your favorite football player. “Please, Min. I’ve been such a good girl.” 

The cogs moved inside Mingi’s head for a moment, then his eyes lit up, his lips forming a wide grin. “Is that why you were rubbing all over me back there? Why didn’t you just say that, baby? You know I’m bad at taking hints.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your dress off of yourself and tossing it onto the comforter, revealing you only had a small, lacy pair of panties on. “I should’ve just bent myself over the kitchen counter and asked you to fuck me dumb in front of your friends, huh? They’d like a little post game show, don’t you think?” 

Mingi groaned at the thought of railing you while his friends gave him pointers from the sidelines, growing hard underneath you. “You’re so hot, baby. So hot and so slutty for me.” He reached down to unbuckle his belt, popping it open, just for your greedy hands to do the rest of the work, eventually pulling his long, veiny cock out. 

Since you’ve been dripping pretty much the entire night, you were confident that you could take your boyfriend’s dick for a ride without needing lube. “You want me to bounce on your big cock, Min?” you asked sweetly, rubbing your soaked cunt back and forth across his dick, hearing him let out a small moan instead of a groaning sound. “Hm? Or do you want to fuck me senseless and make me cum all over your friend’s sheets?” 

“Please, ride my dick, baby…” he murmured, starting to whine from your change of pace, feeling your pussy slipping and sliding all over his sensitive spots, the tip beginning to leak pre-cum. “Pleaseeee, I need it so bad. I need it so fucking bad.” 

"Mmm, I suppose you've had enough, Min." You slid yourself to the tip and lifted it up just enough to begin pushing it inside, whimpering from being stretched out so intensely. Lowering yourself inch by inch, you ran your hands up underneath Mingi's shirt, lifting it up to see the defined softness of his pecs, grabbing and squeezing them.

Mingi arched his back slightly, biting and tugging at his lower lip when you finally bottomed out, the both of you moaning in unison. "Ride me, baby. Come on," he whined impatiently, running his hands over yours, guiding them down along his abs, enjoying the way your warm hands felt on his skin.

"Give me a minute," you replied in a strained voice, taking in a few deep breaths, waiting for the low burning sensation to subside.

Mingi lifted his hand up to press against your lower stomach, feeling the hard outline of his cock. "Baby's so full of me. You're such a good girl for taking my cock like this."

Something inside you switched, encouraging you to begin fucking yourself on his length, moaning, "Yeah, I'm a good girl...such a good girl for you, Min..."

"Yeah, you are," he exhaled, grabbing you by your hips and waiting for each moment you dropped yourself down to thrust himself into your tight hole, your breathy, high-pitched moans like music to his ears. "Fuck, I can feel you throbbing. It's so good, isn't it, doll?"

"So fucking good," you agreed, your lower half already starting to feel heavier, the feeling of getting pounded into by something so large and thick sending you into a state of bliss. "You're gonna make me cum soon..."

Suddenly, the door behind you swung open, and three distinct voices could be heard talking amongst themselves. "So, you're telling me your bong is in that mess on the floor?" Yunho questioned, pointing to the floor, trying to ignore what was going on in the middle of the room, the tips of his ears red and burning.

"Yeah, hold on." San walked into his room like it was just another day and stood near the two of you, giving Mingi a high five when he put his hand out. It must've been a regular occurrence with your boyfriend's previous partners. Personally, you were so dick-drunk, you didn't even care that San was studying the way your tits bounced along with your movements.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sweetheart," San said, giving you a suggestive smile, before bending over to pick up a few articles of clothing and throwing them to the side, searching for his bong underneath the chaos.

Mingi continued to drill himself into you, his cock throbbing heavily inside you due to being watched by his friends, opting to grab both of your wrists and hold you down, not letting you escape, forcing you to take everything he was giving you. "Baby likes being watched, huh? Is Baby gonna cum from being a little attention whore?"

"Uh-huhhh..." You kept your eyes locked on his, making small whimpers each time he pounded into you, tears forming inside your eyes from having an audience.

"Goddamn..." San mumbled underneath his breath, already holding his bong inside his hand, but staying still, mesmerized by the way your ass routinely bounced when Mingi’s cock slammed inside of you. Seonghwa and Yunho were in similar situations, leaning on each other and watching the both of you with dilated eyes, wondering how the hell Mingi’s giant cock somehow fit inside your small frame without splitting you open.

"I'm...about to cum, doll." He caressed your cheek, wiping a few escaping tears, before glaring at San. "Get out of here, okay? I didn't mind you watching, but you're not about to see me nut."

Disappointed, San let out a long sigh, making eye contact with you when you glanced over at him with barely open eyes, your orgasm building up inside you at a rapid rate. "Maybe next time I can watch you two cum," he mused, only leaving the room with his friends when Mingi grabbed one of the plushies on the bed and tossed it at San's head.

Mingi, still holding your cheeks, pulled you down on top of him, slotting his lips onto yours, his hips still moving at a feverish, somewhat sloppy pace. "Cumming," he mumbled into your mouth, listening to your many muffled cries, slowly pumping his cum into your abused hole.

You melted against him, your body going completely lax, your cunt pulsing heavily, as your arousal poured out of you and dripped past Mingi's inner thighs, seeping into the comforter beneath. "So good...that was so good..." you slurred, even though you weren't drunk from the alcohol.

"I'm glad Baby likes getting dicked down so much," Mingi mused, his voice low and gravelly, reveling in the post-orgasm bliss, rubbing your back in circles. His hand suddenly went stiff, giving you a concerned look.

You pushed a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, tilting your head to the side. "What's wrong, Min?"

He gave you a small pout, his eyebrows drawn together. "My nose feels kind of stuffy.” 

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[orshii]

🔥 Ateez as sports 🔥

Hongjoong - Boxing 🥊

He is just so HOT and a little spoiler: in my next ff he is going to box as a hobby 🫠🔥

Seonghwa - Motor racing 🏍️

Biker Hwa lives in my head rent free since Bouncy came out soo… 🫠🙇🏻‍♀️

Yunho - Baseball ⚾️

There is just something so hot in Yunho being a baseball player, like his tall figure and his big hands just fits so well to this sport 🥵

Yeosang - Golf ⛳️

I know Yeosang IS archery, but I think golf fits him as well, it’s elegant and it needs consistency ✨

San - Hockey 🏒

Well omfg, this was the reason I started this… like bro was made to be a hockey player with those broad shoulders that could do anything he wants with me tyvm 🙃 Now I’m VERY tempted to write a hockey player San ff 😭🥵 (and I will)

Mingi - Surf 🏄

Okay but this?! I didn’t know I needed Surfer Mingi until I made this 👄 Like are you kidding me?! 🥵

Wooyoung - Soccer ⚽️

I want to see Wooyoung playing football pls 😭 And the fact that he likes it and wears a lot of football jerseys that fits him soo well, it’s giving 🫠

Jongho - Basketball 🏀

Now we all know John is a basketball player like their lore refers a lot of times to that he was a successful player but he needed to stop because of his injury 🥲 I think it really fits him 🤩

A/N: Anyways that’s all 😂 ty if you got here to read my renting LMAO. Let me know what do you think about these.

My favorite is obviously San’s 🫠 Which one is yours? ✨

✨ Masterlist ✨

[madrogadaa]

Tried grayscale for the first time, might start using this technique more often

Tentei grayscale pela primeira vez, talvez faça isso mais vezes

And here are some headcanons:

I can't help but think Fell sans would be a "flamenguista" because of his color palette 💀

(Brazil lore: "Flamenguista" is someone who supports/cheers for "Flamengo", "Flamengo" is a famous Brazilian football team which is known for using black and red)

Yes, I know its dumb, but for me its so funny and beautiful because everytime I look at him it starts playing "Pra cima deles flamengo (em dezembro de 81...) " in my head, which is a football parody from the music "Primeiros erros" and this is so hilarious for me for literally no reason help 😭😭😭😭

portuguese:

Aqui temos alguns headcanons, eu simplesmente não consigo evitar pensar que o Fell sans iria ser um flamenguista por causa da paleta de cores dele 💀

Sim, eu sei q é besta mas é mto intankável, toda vez q eu olho pra ele simplesmente começa a tocar "Pra cima deles flamengo" (em dezembro de 81...) na minha cabeça e é muito hilário por nenhum motivo 😭😭😭😭

(Brazil lore part 2: The shirt he is wearing is from the "flamengo" team)

[milaisreading]

Isagi sister y/n x Sae? She was in love with y/n for a long time and he was planning to confess to her. While all this time y/n was thinking that Sae was gay for Shidou after she saw their matches together. When he confessed to her, y/n told him that isn't he is gay for Shidou.

🌱🩷: I was supposed to be studying this morning, but your idea was funny so I had to write it. Thanks for the request!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Hmmm..." Sae muttered as he looked at the screen of his phone. Over the past few days that was how most people could find him, just sitting and looking at his phone. From time to time, his expressions would change, but that was only if you looked at him fast enough. A lot of people might say it was pre-final game jitters, but whoever knew Sae enough knew that wasn't true. Rin, Isagi, and Shidou would sometimes ask if je was ok, but all they would get is a short nod from him.

'I hope he won't be acting weird tonight. We really need to have his head in the game if we want to win the World cup.' Rin sighed as he received another short nod from Sae.

"What's up with Undereyelashes senior? Did you two have another fight?" Shidou snickered, earning an annoyed look from Rin. But, before the younger could yell back at him, Isagi stepped in between them. They didn't need all of this hours before their final game with Germany!

"Just calm down everyone. Let's leave Sae-san alone for now."

'Be honest when confessing, and also be smooth about it?' Sae frowned as he read through the guide.

'I hate these internet advice sites.' Sae groaned, putting the phone away and rubbing his eyes. He was tired, very tired from all the training, but also from keeping all these emotions under wrap for the past few months. Sae Itoshi wasn't someone who saw himself falling in love with anyone, heck, he never saw himself having a crush! But, here he was, hours before his final game at the World cup, he was busy figuring out a way to confess his feelings for (Y/n).

'This is ridiculous. I should have done this before the game. But, only if I win tonight will I see myself worthy of her.' Sae shook his head as a blush spread across his face.

"I will take a walk." The rehead muttered to himself as he walked out of the room Rin  Shidou, and he shared.

"Are you not nervous? The final game kept mom, dad, and I up all night." The older Itoshi froze in his footsteps as he heard the voice of the one person that's been haunting his thoughts for the past months.

'(Y/n)...' Sae gulped as he observed her and Yoichi's interaction.

"I was nervous days prior, now I am just numb to everything." Yoichi shrugged his shoulders as (Y/n) poked his cheek.

'Wish she would do that to me-Is that Yoichi's jersey she is wearing?!' Sae gulped as he noticed the familiar clothing item, which caused a weird wave of jealousy to hit him.

"Hm?" Feeling eyes on them, (Y/n) turned to look at Sae, and gave him a smile and wave.

"Sae-san! Ready for the game later?!"

Yoichi looked back as well, noticing the blush on the older's cheeks.

"You finally got out of your room?"

"Finally?" (Y/n) asked in confusion, but instead of getting an answer, the boy turned around and quickly walked away.

"Maybe he is nervous?" (Y/n) suggested, watching in sadness as Yoichi chuckled a little.

"Hard to imagine. He basically breaths football." He answered back, earning a nod from (Y/n).

'I think he might be panicking because him and Shidou are in the same team again. After all, I know all to well how it feels to be close to someone you love, but can't tell them that.' She thought as her expression fell a little.

'I wish he liked me like I like him. But, Shidou is the one he wants.'

"Let's go and get some food. I can't play on an empty stomach." Yoichi said as he pulled (Y/n) towards the exit.

"Sure..."

'Maybe,in another life he would like me back.'

Meanwhile, Sae was having a small breakdown in the bathroom.

'That smile... shit, it's so cute! She is so sweet and caring, how can one not fall for her.' Sae thought as he washed his face, hoping the cold water might help his blush.

"That smile, the voice, the eyes, everything is way too ethereal about her. I need to get this off of my chest as soon as possible." Sae took a few deep breaths.

"Shit, get your head into the game, Sae. You can't embarrass yourself in front of (Y/n) tonight."

A few hours later, the game was about to start. The stadium had a special euphoria haunting it, something neither the Japanese or German team felt before. Was it because it's the final game? Was it the loud cheers from the Japanese fans? They didn't know, but they definitely enjoyed it... some more than the others.

"Sae-chan! Ready for the game? You finally got off your high horse?!" Sae flinched as Shidou jumped on his back and yelled into his ear.

"Get off!" Sae yelled, shoving Shidou off of his back and looked back to where (Y/n) was sitting (he had to beg Yoichi to tell him where her seat was). Sending her a small wave, the girl returned it, then she looked back to where Yoichi was.

"YO-CHAN, DO YOUR BEST!!"

Sae sighed dreamily as he heard her yell, ignoring the small jealousy he felt for Yoichi at the moment.

'I wish she would cheer me on like that.'

"I WILL!!" Yoichi was heard yelling back, looking away from Kaiser for a moment.

"Hmm? Who is that? Your girlfriend?" Sae froze for a moment as he heard Kaiser's voice, then looked at the blonde, who had an amused smirk as he stared back at (Y/n).

'Don't look at her, you creep.' The redhead narrowed his eyes and walked over to where Kaiser and Yoichi were.

"Eww! That's my older sister, you dumbass." The blue-eyed boy cringed, which only amused Kaiser more.

"Even better, then. Hope the cutie will not faint from all the magnificent goals she is about to witness from me."

Hearing his words Yoichi recovered from his disgust and sent a warning glare in Kaiser's direction.

"Stay away from her."

"And if I don't?" Kaiser challenged as Sae arrived at Yoichi's side.

"Just shut up. The game is about to start."

Although his voice sounded monotone, that was far from what he felt inside.

It was a tiring 95 minutes of the game. With Sae, Rin, and Yoichi scoring on one side, and Kaiser and Ness on the other, but they made it. Neither the players or the fans could believe it. Japan actually won the Cup. The players of the Japanese team collapsed on the ground after Yoichi scored the final goal, too tired and excited to do much, while the fans were the ones erupting in screams of joy and crying.

"YOICHI!! YOU DID IT!!" The said boy laughed a little as (Y/n) ran up to give him a tight hug, tears streaming down her own face.

"I am so proud of you!" She cried out as Yoichi hugged her back.

"Thanks... without you and our parents' support I wouldn't be here." The boy said back as they separated.

"You are too humble." She pouted, but before she could say anything else, Sae interrupted the conversation.

"(Y/n), can I talk to you for a moment?" The boy asked, looking oddly nervous to the two siblings.

"Sure." She nodded her head as Sae led them to a more private area, or at least a spot where there were no cameras.

"What did you need? And congrats on winning! Your goal earlier was amazing!!" (Y/n) said, which boosted Sae's ego even more up.

"Thanks, glad that you liked it. But, I called you here to talk about something else."

"What is it?" (Y/n) wandered, part of her wanting to ask why he was with her, when he could be celebrating with Shidou.

'Maybe he needs dating advice?' She mused.

"I wanted to tell you this for a while now... I really like- I mean, love, I really love you."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened in shock and her face turned red as Sae continued.

"You are always so calm and kind to others, you were even kind to me after I acted like a jerk the first time we met. I am not really one to fall in love, I never imagined myself in this position, but I am glad that it is you who I fell for."

"Sae... wait, so... so you don't like Shidou-san?" She asked, trying to process everything. Sae stopped talking and looked at the girl in bewilderment.

"Why would I like him of all people?"

"It's just... you both look so close. And your interactions during the U-20 match, I thought that you like him..." (Y/n) admitted, nervously playing with her fingers. Sae was pretty much speechless for a good 2 minutes, ignoring everyone around himself as he sighed.

"I only love you. Shidou is a friend, I will admit that, but I don't see hin as anything more." Sae spoke as he took her hands into his. (Y/n) got more flustered as she avoided Sae's eyes for a moment, but eventually spoke up as well.

"I.... I love you as well. I have for a while now." She stuttered out while looking up at Sae. The boy felt a variety of emotions hit him, but the one that stood out the most was happiness. Pure, utter happiness.

"That makes you mine, from now on. And I will be yours." He said, kissing the embarrassed girl on the cheek.

"I am glad then." She laughed a little.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 6 (Azure Lion, Peng, Yellowtusk)

(I originally made my own design of Azure and Yellowtusk but wasn't quite happy with how they turned out so I scrapped them, the designs for those two I used in these edits were made by @/erraday_ on twt, with a few minor changes, but Peng's design is my own :) )

- He/Him

- Pansexual

- Snores so loud, it's insane, Yellowtusk once thought there was an earthquake

- Feels bad whenever he's steps on a ladybug, butterfly etc

- Gives everyone and everything giant bear hugs because he thinks if Yellowtusk can take it, so can everyone else (They cannot)

- Mei once gave him catnip as a joke and he went fucking feral, he's not allowed near catnip anymore

- His hair/fur is actually very soft and curly

- Thought he saw an old friend while out in public and hugged them, it was a stranger

- Wakes up Yellowtusk in the middle of the night to ask stupid questions

- The Brotherhood asked to hear his roar but he got really nervous last second and it ended up being really meek, they never let him forget it

- Coughed up a hairball once and Peng refuses to let him live it down

- Has eaten cat food before and would do it again

- Cannot do the splits and is too scared to try

- Gets really confused by modern slang, MK and Mei abuse the hell out of it because it's funny

- Whenever he's rough housing with people he accidentally hits a bit too hard

- Whenever he walks past anyone playing a game that involves a ball (football, basketball, netball, etc) he somehow always ends up getting hit in the head with it

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he wouldn't know what the fuck to do and would be really awkward cause he doesn't know how to interact with children, he'd be able to bond with Redson better when he becomes a teenager though

- No one gossips with him because he always ends up unintentionally outing someone about something

- Ate moldy food once by accident and freaked out, he was absolutely disgusted

- Hates horror movies but loves slashers

- Drinks mouthwash

- Smells like catnip (trust me guys)

- Love language is words of affirmation

- Has horrible bed head, his mane gets tangled really easily and he tosses around a lot at night so his mane takes hours to brush out

- Absolutely refuses to wear shoes, they hurt his feet (paws?)

- The type of person to cry over a movie about a dog getting lost and then finding its owner at the end

- Can somehow eat an entire goddamn buffet and not gain a single pound

- His face always scrunches up when he smiles

- Lost his balance on a hill and fell down like a tumbleweed once, Peng still brings it up

- They/He (Canon, Peng uses They/Them in the show but is exclusively referred to w/ He/Him in the sets)

- Nonbinary (Canon)

- Starts squaking when he laughs too much

- If you throw a blanket over their head he'll immediately fall asleep

- "look behind you but don't make it obvious" Looks behind him in the most exaggerated, obvious way known to mankind

- Stole food from Wukong's private stash for several months when the Brotherhood was all still together, Wukong still doesn't know

- Wukong gave them cooked chicken once as a joke but he actually liked it

- Constantly argues with Wukong about Macaque not being able to hold his own, yes it got physical

- Their wings have a bunch of scars from the amount of weapons and shit they block with them. Has to consistently clean their wings in order to keep them from getting too damaged, yes this includes softening and preening his feathers

- If they weren't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid they would tape him to the wall like that one meme and call it a day

- Bit off a person's finger once just to see if they could

- Doesn't shop, just steals

- "I hate you so fucking much" as he's handing the person a gift

-  Tried to draw on Wukong's face once but got wacked with his tail

- Absolutely HATES beetroot, will actually gag if he smells it

- Kicks over kids sand castles at the beach

- Can't stand small buzzing sounds

- "I'm not that competitive" is that competitive

- Claims you can trust them with anything but will snitch the second they know it will benefit them

- Probably threatened to eat someone's baby once

- Goes to playgrounds to trip kids

- Smells like Lavender, it just feels right

- Love language is words of affirmation and acts of service

- Has tried sleeping upside down like a bat multiple times

- Hardcore wine aunt vibes

- Had a bunch of ducklings accidently imprinted to him and they followed Peng for hours

- You'd have to pin this bird down to get them to eat collyflower

- Jokingly pushed Azure off a cliff once then remembered they're the only member of the Camel Ridge Trio that can fly

- They have full on concerts at like 3 am, has woken up Azure on multiple occasions

- He/Him

- AroAce

- Is the calmest one in the Brotherhood

- He uses Peng's head as an armrest sometimes

- He and DBK were actually quite close, he knew and accepted that DBK was in love with a celestial but was very surprised to see they ended up having a child

- Very poor eyesight but doesn't like wearing his glasses because Peng made a joke about them once saying he looked like a grandma

- Uses ":3" and ":D"

- Loves soap opera's

- Hates seafood

- Peng once tricked him into eating fish nuggets once and he still hasn't fully forgiven them

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he would definitely be the most responsible one, and probably Redson's favourite uncle

- Eats a snack then forgets he ate it and will bet frustrated when he can't find it

- The therapist of the Camel Ridge Trio, and probably of the whole Brotherhood in the past as well

- Was the only one who felt bad about imprisoning the Demon Bull Family since he and DBK were very close

- He also reprimanded Peng for when they pinned and scratched Redson with their claws after they left the Demon Bull Palace (he's the protective uncle, trust me guys)

- Hates getting hiccups, he despises the feeling and it gives him heartburn

- Wakes up at ungodly hours just to raid the fridge

- Heard a story about a bug crawling in someone's ear while they slept and has worn earplugs to bed ever since

- Loves apples

- Smells like Lilies

- Love language is gift giving

- Is really big on safety, would be the type of person to make sure everyone is wearing their seat belts before the car is even turned on

- Actually really good at cooking

- Makes the best chocolate chip pancakes ever

- Is the kind of person who assumes everyone tells eachother everything and accidently exposes someone because he thought everyone else knew about it already

- Always hears things wrong but doesn't wanna ask anyone to repeat themselves

- Has the most elegant ass handwriting you will ever see, somehow

- The peacemaker of the Brotherhood,  they all would've disbanded way sooner if it wasn't for him

- Uses his trunk as a snorkle when swimming or sleeping underwater (elephants actually do this irl, I just thought it was cute)

[amethystarachnid]

LITTLE STAR

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Genre: angsty (ok, a lot of angst) romance and tiny bit of fluff

ᯓᡣ𐭩 AU: Steve is born in the 21st century and isn't a superhero, basically the world is like ours

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Story type: one shot

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Word count: 4.1 K

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TW(s): talks of death, domestic abuse, deadbeat father, a lot of angst, I know nothing about football so incorrect football things.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Request: Hi! | have a request for a story for Steve Rogers x female character. The genre would be romance but it would be very angsty/sad but with a happy ending. (the request is longer but if I write it here it'll spoil the story)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Songs & Superheroes tales — The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

Seven years ago

“48…49…50! I’ll find you, Y/N!” Steve says as he turns around from the tree he was facing, his eyes scanning the small park, trying to find where you were hiding. You have always been good at this game, but he was always better.

“Found you!” Steve says as he sees you crunching down in the little house on the slide.

“How can you always find me?!” You sigh and sit down on the dirty wood of the Colorful House,that’s how you both called it even though with the years it had lost most of its color, leaving only some red and some blue here and there.

“I already checked your other favorite places, so the Colorful house was the only place left.” Steve explains proudly as he sits down next to you.

“Next time I’ll be the one counting and I’ll find you in less than five seconds!” You pout, but the smile comes back on your face when a certain thought crosses your mind, “Are you excited to start middle school, Stevie?”

The boy shrugs his shoulders, “it’s just school.”

“No it isn’t! It’s the big kids’ school!” You were excited, like really excited. You, who usually hate school, haven't stopped talking about middle school since the start of summer break. You have already bought all the supplies you needed and more.

“It will all be the same, study, more study and study even more!” Steve sighs, you give him a playful nudge with your elbow.

“You say that only because you’ll have less time to play football.” Football has always been Steve’s sport, he liked and he was damn good at it.

“Maybe.” Steve gave you a small smile.

Three years later

“Stevie? What’s this?” You ask, confused, as you look at the big truck in front of Steve’s house, two men are putting boxes in it.

Steve flinches when hearing his name, he didn’t want her to see this, “Y/N! I can…can explain…”

“Are you moving out? Without telling me?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you look up at your best friend, he has gotten taller over the years and his first muscles started to show thanks to his football training.

“No! I mean yes but-“ Steve sighs and takes a deep breath, “Remember my dream school?”

“Of course.” How could you forget? He always talks about it, it’s a private high school in San Francisco that’s literally connected – for lack of better terms – with a college there. Basically, after you finish high school you already have a seat ready for you in the college, which is one of the best in the country.

“Well, I got offered a sports scholarship to go there!” Steve sounds so happy about that, are you a bad friend because you aren't happy for him? Are you selfish? Probably yes, because the only thing that you can think about right now is how he’s going to leave you alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You can barely hear yourself now. Did he think that you would try and make him stay? Well…That’s what you want to do, but you don't want to be a shitty friend, you don't want Steve to abandon his dream for you. Because that’s the thing in your friendship: if you were to ask Steve to not go to San Francisco he would drop everything and stay with you.

“I wanted to tell you, really but…I didn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you.”

Translation: if you were upset you’d ask me to stay, I’d stay because I hate seeing you upset, but I don’t want to stay because this is my dream.

“I am upset, no point in lying, it’s just…I would’ve told you if I were in your place.” You sit down on the porch of Steve’s house.

“I know, I’m sorry…” Steve sits down next to you and, as always, you can’t bring yourself to stay mad at him.

“I already forgave you,” You smile softly as you shrug your shoulders, “so, when do you have to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Now it’s Steve’s voice that’s a mere whisper. The day after tomorrow? And when was he planning on telling me? When he was already on the plane? God knows how much you want to tell him all your thoughts, but you have only a few hours left to spend together and you don't want to spend them fighting on not talking to each other.

“Then why are we sitting here?” You ask, standing up and holding out your hand towards your best friend, “Let’s spend as much time as we can together!”

Steve smiles up at you and grabs your hand, pulling himself up, “I like your plan.”

During the next day you two did everything you could think of: you skated together, had a sleepover, you even made bracelets for each other – the one Steve made for you said ‘Little star’ because that’s how he liked to call you, while the bracelet you made for him said ‘Stevie’.

“But will you come back during the holidays?” You ask, Steve stands next to his father’s car, Steve’s mom will drive her son and husband to the airport: Steve’s dad will stay with him for a few weeks until he’s gotten used to San Francisco, then Steve will move in his dorm at the school and his dad will come back.

“I promise.” Steve smiles down at you and throws his arms around your waist while you hug his neck, “take care, little star.”

“You too, Stevie, I’ll miss you.” You kiss his cheek and blink back the tears, you don’t want to cry right now, one of your last memories with Steve won’t be a sad one.

“I’ll miss you too.” And with that, Steve enters the car, before he could do something stupid like kissing you. Once in the car, though, he sees how sad you looked and he sighs, fuck it. He gets out of the car and hugs you again.

“I’ll miss you, Y/N, but I don’t want to leave with regrets.” Before you can ask him what he means he presses his lips on yours. It’s just a quick peck, an innocent kiss between thirteen years old, but you feel your heart explode. “I’ll become the best football player ever, I’ll make money and then we’ll go live together on a mountain, like you always wanted…Just, wait for me.”

You smile up at him and nod, “I’ll wait for you.”

Present day

Steve didn’t hold his promise. It was always his parents going to San Francisco for the holidays and never him coming back to Brooklyn. For three years you didn’t hear from each other, it may seem a short time for people that knew each other since birth but a lot can change in three years, even more than Steve ever thought was possible.

He gets out of the car, parking it in front of his childhood house: he was back in Brooklyn for his last year of high school.

“Y/N changed her house a lot.” He says towards his parents as he looks towards what used to be your childhood home, now a different color and without the front porch.

“Oh no, they don’t live there anymore.” His mom explains, “after Y/N’s mom died they moved into an apartment on the other side of the city.”

“What?” Steve feels like a cold water bucket has just been thrown over his head, “Y/N’s mom died?” She was young and healthy though.

“Yes, two years ago, she had a heart attack, Y/N asked us to not tell you.”

“Why?” His mom shrugs her shoulders, then puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“It hasn’t been easy for her, but from what I know she goes to the same school you’ll go from tomorrow, try and talk to her.” She squeezes his shoulder, “You’re her best friend after all, aren’t you?”

Am I? Steve thinks, I wasn’t by her side when her mom died, I haven’t seen in three years…Are we really more than strangers?

“Why are they all staring at me?” Steve asks Bucky, one of his childhood friends, as they walk in the hallways of Brooklyn’s high school.

“Because you’re the handsome new guy.” Bucky explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But I’m not actually new, I’m sure I went to middle school with at least fifteen people in this hallway.”

“But you’re not the same Steve Rogers that left three years ago, you look like a fucking closet man.” Bucky chuckles, but it’s the truth, Steve had gotten taller and very muscular in only three years.

“I guess you’re right.” Steve can’t help the smirk forming on his lips, he reaches his locker, before he can open it though he notices a girl standing on the locker next to his. That girl is you, but he recognizes you only after you close your locker. You look the same as three years ago and another completely different person at the same time. Obviously you are older, and that shows on your features, and you are even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

“Y/N!” He says with a bright smile on his face, your eyes widen when you recognize him but quickly you look down and walk away, completely ignoring him.

“Don’t mind her, she hasn’t been the same since her mom died.” Bucky explains, “she doesn’t speak to anyone, is always late to school and never has money for lunch, I buy it for her sometimes but I’m not even sure if she actually eats it.”

“What happened to her?” Steve whispers as he looks at you entering your next class, which, coincidentally, is the one he has next too. He walks in the class and smiles when he sees that the seat next to you is free.

“Y/N, it’s me, Steve.” He says as he sits next to you. You could ignore him, look away, hell, even change seat, but hearing his voice so close after three years made your heart swell and clench at the same time. What is he doing here? You couldn’t help but ask yourself that, shouldn’t he be doing his last year in San Francisco? Did he change his mind?

“Yeah, I know, I’ve heard the whispers, everyone’s talking about you.” You shrug your shoulders, acting like the only thing you want to do isn’t throw yourself in his arms and feel some comfort for the first time in years.

“It’s the first time we see each other in three years and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Listen, I’m sorry for never coming back in Brooklyn during the last years but I’m here now can’t we just-”

“Class’s starting." You interrupt him and point at the teacher who just walked in the classroom. Steve scoffs but turns his attention to the teacher.

After a while he hands you a piece of paper with ‘you know I don’t give up easily’ written on it.

Soon you feel like you have another shadow, a shadow that’s taller and bigger than you. Steve follows you everywhere he can and he’s always trying to make you open up, trying to bring your friendship back.

“Are you going to follow me home too?” You snap at Steve when the last bell rings.

“Do you want me to? I haven't seen your new house yet.” He says, putting his backpack on one shoulder.

“And you never will.” You answer harshly, showing him the small and dirty apartment where you lived would be too embarrassing.

Steve shrugs your answer off, “You’re lucky I have practice today.” He’s on the school football team and they couldn’t be happier.

“Why did you come back from San Francisco?” You can’t help but ask, why would someone ever leave that place?

“Had a fight with a boy who was harassing a girl, turns out it was the principal’s son.” Steve shakes his head, “immediate expulsion.”

Why did his answer hurt? Were you hoping he’d say something like ‘I missed you’? How stupid of you, he didn’t even call in three years. You nod and turn away, walking towards your house. The same house that was barely a home, more like a prison. It wasn’t the outside of the building the problem, and not even the small apartment itself, the problem was the man who lived with you. Your father, at least, who he should be. To you, ever since your mother’s death, it felt like living with a stranger.

“Dad, I’m home.” You shout as you open the door to the apartment on the second floor. Silence. Silence is the only thing that you can hear, and you couldn’t be happier: silence means that he isn’t at home, which also means he’s probably out drinking and will come back in the evening highly drunk. But that will be a problem for future you, for now you lay on your bed, doing your homework. You even take a small nap.

Your small time in paradise ends as you’re cooking dinner and the door opens. Your dad walks inside, crawling his feet on the ground, with an empty bottle of beer in his hand.

“Oh, you’re cooking, I see you’ve learned your lesson.” At his words your mind flies to the bruise on your stomach, but you quickly shake your head.

“Yeah, I’m cooking some soup.” You close your eyes, breaching yourself for the storm that is about to come.

“Soup? You know I hate soup!” He says as he starts getting angry, which definitely isn’t a good thing.

“I noticed that soup was the only thing we had when it was too late to go to the store.” You admit, already feeling the pain of the hit when he didn’t even hit you, yet.

“Useless as always!” He shouts and throws the empty glass bottle of beer at your legs. You damn yourself in your mind for deciding to wear shorts when you feel the glass against your bare legs, leaving cuts behind. You don’t dare to flinch or even make a little sound, though, knowing that it would only make him more mad.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper as you place two plates of soup on the table, “I’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“You better, I’m not eating this shit.” Your father throws his plate with soup on the ground, breaking it in tiny little pieces. He’s worse than a toddler. You get up from your chair and start cleaning immediately, knowing that if you didn’t he would only get worse. You ignore the pain from the fresh cuts on your legs and pick the ceramic shatters from the ground, the soup on the ground wetting your slippers.

“I can’t cook anything else for you though…” You whisper, not even scared anymore, simply resigned and used to it.

You know that he could misunderstand every word you say.

You know he could hit you anytime.

You know you don’t have a choice but endure it till you’re done with high school.

You know you have to wait another nine months for that.

“You stupid bitch! Your mom would have never done this!” Your heart clenches at his words. How dare he talk about her, when he was the cause of her death?

“Don’t talk about her, you can’t.” You glare at him as you stand up, throwing the ceramic shatters you had just collected on the ground again.

“I can’t? And why can’t I?” He walks towards you, his big frame making you feel small and vulnerable, but not in a good way.

“You killed her!” You shout at him, tears starting to blur your vision, but you blink them back: you won’t cry in front of him. It’s basically telling him that you’re scared.

And you would never admit that.

“It wasn’t me who killed her, it was you! You killed your own mother!” You know that he’s trying to manipulate and gaslight you, but at the same time you have heard that sentence so much that you were starting to believe it.

Maybe if you were a better daughter she would still be alive.

Maybe if you were more independent she would still be with you.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe your mother is happier now. Wherever she is now she doesn’t have to look after an incompetent man who can’t even cook for himself, she doesn’t have to stay up until sunrise to make sure he doesn’t come to your room when drunk.

Maybe it’s for her best that she’s dead now.

“NO! You killed her because she was always so busy looking after you that she barely had time to look after herself, she never had the time to even do a check up!” You shout at him, tears rolling down your cheeks freely. “She died because you wouldn’t even pick up your own nose from the ground-” You let out a banshee-level scream as you feel the ceramic sink into your shoulder.

He stabbed you with a piece of ceramic from the plate.

Your father.

Your daddy, the same man who played princess tea party with you when you were four. The same man who checked under your bed for monsters every night for years.

You almost laugh when you realize you can’t remember any happy memories with your dad after your tenth birthday.

Two weeks later.

Luckily, the nurses believed you when you told them that you were taking a plate from a high shelf and it fell and broke on your shoulder. Steve, on the other hand…

“Tell me what happened.” Steve says as he sits next to you inside the Colorful House in the park.

“You follow me outside of school too, now?” You say annoyed.

“This was your favorite place to hide when we were kids, I see it didn’t change.” There’s a sad smile on his face, then he turns to you, “I don’t believe that a plate fell on you, tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth.” You roll your eyes, he sighs and his eyes fall on your wrist.

“You aren’t wearing your bracelet anymore.” He notices for the first time, you hide your wrist with your other hand.

“It broke.” My dad broke it. “You aren’t wearing it either.”

“I was worried it would break so I transformed it into a necklace.” He pulls down the collar of his shirt, revealing the letters that you used to make his bracelet, ‘Stevie’.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can say as you try to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. Neither of you has spoken about what happened before he left, but it’s time to talk about the elephant in the room.

Or literally anything but your dad.

“You kissed me before leaving and then you never came back, you never even called!” You say.

“What? I called almost every day!” You look at him confused at his words, “I knew you didn’t have a phone so I called the only number I remembered: your father’s.”

“That explains a lot of things…” You look down at your feet, Steve had called your father and he never told you anything? Why?

“He told me you didn’t want to talk to me or that you weren’t home, after a while I think he blocked my number, I didn’t have any other way to contact you and I simply thought you…didn’t want to hear from me…”

You look at him with a sad look, “He never told me about your calls.”

“What? Why?”

“Who knows what goes on in his sick mind.” Without even realizing your hand goes to the injury on your shoulder, and that’s when Steve understands.

“It was him, he gave you that scar.”

You nod, your eyes filling with tear, “Stabbed me with a piece of ceramic from a broken plate”

“Y/N that’s sick! Why didn’t you feel the truth at the hospital? Or to a teacher or…or…or to me…” His voice gets quieter towards the end of the sentence.

You shrug your shoulders, “I only have to endure it another few months, then I’ll leave and never come back.”

“How long has this been going on?” Steve gently wraps an arm around your shoulders, careful on the scar, and pulls you towards his chest. You bury your face in his broad chest and finally let go, crying against him. When was the last time you felt free to cry? At your mother’s funeral probably.

“Since my mother’s death.” You look up at him, placing your chin on his chest, comforted by his hold and the look of his eyes you decide to tell him the whole truth. “She died of a heart attack, that’s true, but you know what caused the heart attack?” You take a deep breath, “Exhaustion, overworking, call it however you like but truth is she was like my father’s slave — your heart falls in pronouncing those words — he made her work so much that in the end her heart couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Steve places a hand on the back of your head and cradles your head against his chest, kissing your forehead.

“And now he’s doing the same to me, I have to do everything in the house and if I don’t…” You can’t even finish the sentence as your body shakes with sobs.

“I’ll get you out of there, I promise.” Steve continues repeating soothing words to your ear and kissing your hair, you slowly calm down and look up at him, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

“No need to thank me, I would do anything for you.”

“So…” A grin forms on your face as you push any thought regarding your father away, “What about that kiss?”

Steve laughs, “Well, my offer to go live on a mountain is still up if you want.”

“Like, best friends living together?”

“What if I want us to be more than best friends?” His eyes fall on your lips.

“Then I’d tell you that I want the same.” You press your lips on his, it’s a gentle and soft kiss. Just like Steve.

“I love you, damn I’ve loved you since we were kids.” You smile at his words.

“I love you too.”

Months later

There are only a few days left until graduation, until you can finally leave the hell that was supposed to be your home.

“Hello Mrs. Rogers.” You greet Steve’s mom as she opens the door. Since you and Steve started dating your presence has become almost constant at house Rogers, just like when you were a kid.

“Oh Y/N, Steve’s in his room.” She greets you with a hug. “I’m so happy that you are his girlfriend, I always knew you two would end up together.” You smile and before she can start planning your wedding you run to Steve’s room where he’s sitting on the bed.

“I know that look, you need to tell me something.” You give him a peck on the lips as a greeting.

“Yes and it’s big happy news.”

“Tell me everything big boy.” You know he hates that nickname, and that’s exactly why you keep calling him that.

“I got a call from the coach of an important Football team, I’ll spare you the details because I know you understand nothing of Football, but…” he takes your hands in his, “They want me in the team! I’m going pro on one of the best teams in the U.S.!” It’s true, you understand nothing of football but the excitement in his face and tone is hard to resist.

“This is fantastic! I’m so happy for you!” You throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

“I want you to come with me.” He says as he cups your face in his hands. “Come live with me, there’s a great college near where I’ll have to stay, you can study there! It isn’t a mountain but it’ll keep you away from your dad.”

Only now you notice that you’re both crying, and for the first time in years yours are happy tears.

“I would love that.”

“Really?!” He kisses you again and again, laying you down on the bed between your laughs.

“I can’t wait to see you at my games, you’ll come see them right?”

“I won’t miss a single one.” You smile as he kisses your jaw. “I’ll be your lucky charm.” You chuckle.

“You’re better than my lucky charm, you’re my little star, the light of my life.”

You kiss him with a smile. He keeps calling you his star, but little does he know that he’s the sun of your life.

Your savior, the man who will take you away from you father.

The man you love.

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, but don’t feel forced to!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Beachfront Bliss

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Pairing: Billy "Fritz" Avalone x F!Reader

Summary: You're walking your dog, Delilah, along the beach until she decides to chase after a handsome man playing football with his buddies.

Manny Jacinto Characters Masterlist

The sun is slowly setting on San Diego. You'd just gotten home from work and now you're getting your dog, a border collie named Delilah, ready for her walk. She's excitedly shaking her tail as she stares up at you while you hold her leash.

"Wait," you command and Delilah sits, watching you expectantly.

You clip the leash onto her collar and open the front door, "Good girl!" Delilah promptly races out the door, only stopping when the retractable leash has met the end.

"Come!" you call for her and she rushes back to your side, sticking to it as you walk down your street and towards the beach.

As you grow closer, the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore become louder. Once pavement becomes sand, you slip off your sandals, stuffing them into your tote bag as you continue to walk.

There isn't a lot of people on the beach since it's midweek. However, you do see a group of people playing football.

The commotion alerts Delilah as the two of you near the group. There's boisterous laughing and hollering. The group spreads out as you grow closer, so you walk further away to not potentially be hit.

You avert your attention ahead, moving on from the football group, however, Delilah seems very keen on watching them, trying to stay in place.

"Come on, Lilah!" you lock the retractable leash and give her a warning tug, urging her to continue walking, "Let's finish your walk!"

Your commands fall deaf on her ears as she watches the group continue their game of football. One of the men throws the ball and another tried to catch it. The ball grazes his fingertips and causes the ball to go flying in your direction. It falls a few feet away from you and, before you could even blink, Delilah pounces at it. The sudden movement frees her leash from your hand.

"Delilah!" you shout as your dog starts running around the beach with the football in her mouth.

The group of people all laugh and begin to join you in the chase for your dog. Delilah clearly thinks it's a game as she dodges and weaves through everyone's legs. Men and a few women topple into the sand as they attempt to catch Delilah.

You and the others eventually start to slow down, growing tired of your dog's antics.

You stand there, hands on your hips, looking at your dog like a disappointed mother. She meanders over with a pep in her step and drops the football at your feet.

You sigh, pinching your nose, "Thank you, Lilah." You pick up the football and hand it to the nearest man. His tanned skin and toned chest are on full display. He's wearing classic ray bans and a smile that makes your heart stop for a moment.

"Sorry about her."

He chuckles, "Don't worry about it. Never thought it'd be a dog to take down a group of Navy Pilots."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, looking at the group of people around you, "You're all in the Navy?"

He nods, "Yup and I think you just proved to our Captain that we need to work out more."

You giggle, "Yeah. Again, sorry about her. She's probably a little stir-crazy. Haven't been able to take her out as much due to work. As you can see, she has a lot of energy."

The man kneels and begins to pet her, "She's cute so I'll forgive her. What's her name?"

"Delilah or Lilah or Deli."

"Well hello, Delilah, I'm Billy, but my friends call me Fritz."

"Fritz?" you look at him confused as he rises to a stand again.

"My call-sign."

"Frtiz! C'mon, man!" one of the guys hollers.

"I gotta-"

"You should-"

Both of you speak at the same time and stop with a chuckle.

Fritz holds his hand out, "It was nice meeting you..."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you Fritz," you shake his hand, "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thanks! You too! Maybe I'll see you guys around again!" he gives you a wave and heads back to his Navy friends who were all in position for the next game.

You watch them for a little bit, admiring the very attractive group of people before you. Then you chuckle, ruffling Delilah's fur before tugging her along. She's apprehensive, wanting to go back to "playing" with her new friends.

"C'mon, princess. We gotta go back home and start making dinner." Delilah reluctantly proceeds to follow you through the sand, leaving her new friends behind.

_______________________

It was your friend's, Jackie's, birthday and she wanted to do a bar crawl. You were one of the designated drivers so you've mainly stuck with water throughout the night and keeping a careful eye on your friend.

The next bar on her list was called the Hard Deck, which is apparently home to a lot of Navy officers. When you hear this, a part of you hopes you might run into Fritz, but there's no way, right?

Your group clamber into the bar, which was jam packed considering it was a Friday night.

"It's my birthday so feel free to buy me drinks!" you're already drunk friend hollers. A few men already begin to approach her ready to fulfill her request.

You tell your other friend, Abby, that you're going to find a table for your group. She gives you a salute and turn back to watch the rest of the group.

As you're weaving through bodies, you suddenly bump into someone, spilling their drink.

"Shit! I'm so so-Fritz!"

He looks at you in surprise, "Hey! Y/N!" then looks at you confused, "I'm kind of surprised to see you here."

You snort, "Yeah, um, not a place you'd usually find me at on a Friday night, but it's my friend's birthday," you point over your shoulder to Jackie with her birthday crown on her head and down a shot as your friends and a few Navy men cheer her on, "We're doing a bar crawl, but I'm the DD."

He nods in understanding, "Got it."

"Actually, you don't happen to see any free tables, do you? That's what I was doing before I bumped into you. Also, I will definitely get you a replacement drink for that!"

He chuckles, "It's fine. Really and you and your group can join me and my buddies."

"You sure?" you look at him apprehensively.

"Yeah, besides, I know a few of them will definitely pay for your guys' drinks," he gives you a smirk.

You snicker, "Alright. Let me go grab them."

"I'll follow you," he places his hand on your lower back as he follows you back to the counter where your friends are gathered.

"Hey!" you tap Abby on the shoulder, "This is my friend, Fritz," you point to him over your shoulder and he waves.

Abby gives you a questioning look, "Friend?"

"The guy I met on the beach because Lilah stole their football?"

"Ooooh!" she waves at him, "Hi!"

"Hi! I told Y/N that you guys can share tables with my buddies and I."

"You sure?"

"Oh yeah. Some of them will most likely pay for your drinks too."

Abby snorts, "Well I can't deny free drinks." She proceeds to tell the other women the plan and grabs Jackie's hand, leading her away from the men chatting her up.

She stumbles and you catch her, "Easy there, babe!"

Jackie spots Fritz over your shoulder, "It's my birthday!"

He laughs, "So I heard. Happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" she looks to you and not so secretly says, "He's cute!"

You chuckle, "Yeah, babe. Let's go to the table, 'kay?"

She nods, "Okay," and follows you and Fritz towards the back of the bar. He stops at three tables filled with the same group of people you saw on the beach weeks prior.

"Hey! Beach Girl!" a brunette with a thick mustache calls out.

You wave, "Nice to see you again."

"What're you doing here in our neck of the woods, beautiful?" the tall blonde one asks with a grin that makes you roll your eyes.

Jackie stands beside you and you gesture to her, "It's my friend's birthday. We're doing a bar crawl. This is one of our stops. Jackie, say hi."

Jackie waves, "Hi," she looks at everyone in awe, "Why are all of you guys so hot?!"

You facepalm, "Jackie's filter flies out the window when she's drunk," you explain to Fritz.

"The guys are gonna love it."

The men let the ladies have their seats, standing around them and making conversation.

You continue to stand beside Fritz, fanning yourself. He looks at you in concern, "You okay?"

"Just getting a bit warm."

"Wanna step onto the deck? It's just out there," he points to the double doors behind you. You take a look at your friends and make sure they're okay before you step out.

Once you're outside, you give a sigh of contentment. The cool breeze immediately chills your body in a welcoming way.

You rest your back against the railing so you can still keep an eye on your friends. Abby looks at you through the window giving you a questioning thumbs up. You smile giving her a thumbs up back and she goes back to her conversation.

"When did you guys start the crawl?"

You look at the time on your phone, "About two hours ago, but Jackie and a few others pregamed. So by the time we hit like the second bar, they were far gone already."

"How many more bars are on your list?"

"Jackie wanted to hit ten, but I'm not sure if we'll even get to the fifth one." There's cheers from inside as Jackie downs yet another shot.

"Not much of a drinker?"

You scrunch your nose and shake your head, "Nah. This overall thing isn't really me, but Jackie's one of my best friends, so I'll come out of my cave for her."

Fritz's nose crinkles as he laughs and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

"How's Delilah?"

"Good. She's happier now that work is starting to slow down and I can take her out for longer walks though."

"She hasn't stolen anymore footballs, has she?"

You snort, "Fortunately not, and she hasn't managed to take down another group of Naval officers either."

"Hey, she took us by surprise. We'd already been out there for a while, our energy was already low."

"Suuure. Keep telling yourself that, Fly Boy."

The two of you stay out there for some time, getting lost in conversation and each other's company. You've discovered that not only is Fritz handsome, but he's funny, kind, loyal, and a nerd. He has his parents and two sister back at home. He's a very family-oriented person and you admire him for that.

You two lose track of time and before you know it, Abby is coming out to you two.

"We're calling it a night. Jackie's is so far gone and some of the other girls are getting there."

"Alright. We should start closing tabs then."

"His buddies took care of it," she nods to Fritz.

You and Fritz grin at each other, "Told you," he says.

"Well, thank your friends for me. And thanks for keeping me company out here."

You step to leave, but Fritz stops you, "Wait, actually, is it okay if I get your number? I'd like to take you out some time."

You smile and nod at him, "Yeah. Of course!" you two quickly exchange numbers and promptly head back inside with Abby.

You gather your friends up, Fritz and his buddies helping you and Abby walk Jackie and the others out.

Your group piles into yours and Abby's car, waving at the group of men, "Thanks again, fellas!" you yell out before driving away.

Fritz stands there with his buddies and once you're out of sight, they begin to badger him about getting your number.

He reluctantly says that he did and his pals cheer him on with pride.

Before he goes to sleep that night, Fritz sends you a text:

It was nice chatting with you. Let me know your schedule so we can plan that date. Hope your friends don't give you too much trouble.

Sweet dreams. - Fritz

[tenjiiku]

heaven / au

You thought he was ugly when you first started. No one admits when they find someone unattractive. Something about it being too cynical and mean. And, sure, you heavily subscribed to the notion of objectivity — beauty is in the eye of its beholder. You could get behind that, especially considering that you did not reckon yourself to be the poster child of an ethereal vision. But, simply put, you did not behold him as such for the first few months.

The first few months.

Looking back, maybe you were being too hard headed. Ugly was probably not the right word to use. You didn’t care then, you don’t care now. You don’t care anymore. Frankly.

“Isagi Yoichi,” he introduced himself as — holding a cordial hand out to you as you awkwardly sat at your assigned desk. You didn’t know whether to stand up and shake it, or remain still. You remember making a weird movement as though you were about to get up, but, ultimately, you meet his eyes sitting down — craning your head.

He was not smiling. If anything it looked as though he was forced to introduce himself to you. He was thirty years old, six years your senior.

“L/n Y/n,” you murmured.

And that was that. For the first few weeks.

You still lived with your mother. As a result, you had access to free lunches. The others on your team did not — or, could not — afford such a luxury of having the time to make theirs. So, often, you found yourself going out with them at noon to a nearby hole in the wall place which sold freshly made sandwiches along with other items.

You remember not even noticing Isagi-san’s presence in the group. Not until he waves his hand in front of your face as you blankly stare at the walls covered in the shop owner’s family pictures. They were from Portugal.

“You want anything?” He had asked you.

Shyly, you had responded, “Uhm, no. I brought lunch.”

Isagi-san hadn’t pushed there, which you were relieved of. Making conversation with strangers was never your strong suit. But, once everyone had procured their lunches and you took a step out of the shop, he was right behind you.

You had felt something on your head. It was his hand. In it, a paper bag. Sheepishly, you had looked up and he had gently smiled down at you, handing it over.

“Their banana bread is great.”

Before you could have gotten a word out, he was already with the others.

A few weeks pass. Snow starts to fall. You got into an argument with your mother over your favourite red scarf she donated without consulting you. You ended up buying the same one for double its price, because some idiotic celebrity wore it once during a random November evening — the night of their divorce.

You are a terrible person. You think. But everyone around you thinks you are an airhead who is too stupid to be evil.

“What’s your favourite sport?” Haiba-san, a colleague of yours asks. He is standing by your cubicle, which is next to the personal coffee machine your team purchased years ago (Your office was closed concept, no one could enter without a key card. It is also why many various pictures of Isagi-san decorate a colleague of yours’ desk).

You don’t get the chance to answer. Haiba-san is already talking over you. You let him. You are better than him.

“Yoichi’s crazy about football. It’s an illness,” he jokes. Isagi-san stands a foot away, and your eyes flicker towards his frame. He’s already on his feet, shoving Haiba with a cackle. You let them argue for a while, playing the role of their captive audience. You are quite good at doing so, with all your years of practice.

Until, Isagi-san asks, “Do you play?”

He asks it softly, nothing like Haiba-san. You feel a bit sweaty despite it being below zero degrees celsius outside. Shyly, you shake your head — fearing your voice will crack if you try talking.

Isagi-san hovers, today. He doesn’t leave you to your peace like the day he bought you banana bread.

“Anything else?”

And you don’t know what compels you to answer. During the moment, you’d chalked it up to being too nervous to not give him an answer. Looking back, deep down, you knew you wanted to impress Isagi-san. He looked so interested — but not the way Haiba-san was, for his own self-satisfaction.

“I… used to play badminton… in high-school.” You’d whispered, not expecting any sort of reaction.

Isagi-san’s eyes had widened, and he’d made himself comfortable on a chair outside your cubicle.

“That’s cool,” he says, “You still play?”

You looked down at your lap like an idiot and shrugged your shoulders. You’re dumber than a dog. “Sometimes, when the weather is warm.”

Your petite colleague, Mari-san, interrupts the peaceful silence with an outlandish out of character statement. “I like hockey. Just watch a bunch of big dudes bully each other on ice. Very North American.”

You remember feeling very comfortable that day. That was the first time you felt like you belonged.

It didn’t snow much last year. It concerned you heavily. Was the Earth dying? What was the point of you working? You still had student loans to pay. What would it even matter if you died the next day? Hour? Minute? Second?

Papers drop down onto your desk. You jumped and turned down the audiobook you were listening to: All About Love by Bell Hooks.

“L/n-chan, could you please finish this for me? Please?” Mari-san’s pretty voice and pretty face and pretty eyes plead with you. And how were you to refuse a beautiful woman?

“Uh, sure,” you answered through a mouthful of your burrito. Never mind that it was lunch. You were new here, so you had to make your mark.

Your work extends into the evening. It feels nice, though. You don’t have much plans for Friday night. Sure, you had planned on heading home, taking a warm shower, eating a salad-sized bowl of pasta and touching yourself to a disgustingly cliche erotica — but you could do that any time. Saturday morning, for example.

A hand touches your shoulder. You almost launch out of your seat and hit the culprit right in the face. A familiar grunt reaches your ears. Then your eyes.

“Isagi-san,” you exclaim, “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I got scared.”

He only waves a hand and laughs. You look away, embarrassed. It was a bit ominous with the office lights automatically dimmed.

When he stands back up, wipes the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes and smiles down at you, he only but corrects the way you called him. “Yoichi.”

You didn’t know if it was because of the environment or if it was because you were ovulating, but Isagi-san looked particularly delicious in low lighting. With his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, the few buttons of his top undone at the top, and his usually kept hair ruffled after a long, gruelling day of work — you felt your stomach twist.

You feel gross.

“Seems like we’re both stuck doing overtime.” He jokes. You force a smile and internally kill yourself a million times, in a million different ways.

You sense his eyes gravitate to your monitors. On one, you were working on the few files Mari-san requested help with. On the other, a generic Tokyo News Channel plays, repeating the same news over and over again.

“The news?”

“It’s… nostalgic.”

Isagi-san smiles again, and you feel your hands sweat when he drags a chair to sit next to you.

“You’re a strange girl.” He sighs, “Let me help you.”

“I—,” Isagi-san doesn’t let you finish.

“Before the last train leaves.”

You look at him and try to think of any way to get him to leave. But the prospect of going home a little earlier than intended, and smelling his cologne for a while longer were tempting offers, indeed.

“Uhm… thanks.”

It is zero degrees in January and is raining when you leave. It is the end of the World but you run behind Isagi-san who holds your hand through the train station. The red scarf you adamantly refused to get rid of is wrapped around your neck and almost suffocates you from all of the hysteria. But you still cannot help but smile.

“Come on, come on, we’re gonna miss it!” Isagi-san hollers, and you laugh as he drags you as though you are his favourite bag.

He stops near the elevator which takes you up to the platform of the train and pales at the size of the crowd.

“Shit.”

Frantically, you look around, hoping to be of some use. It’s when you notice.

“S—Stairs!”

Isagi-san whips his head around to look at you and grins. Tugging you along, you cannot help but feel oddly giddy that you were of some use to him.

It feels nice. To be heard.

When you finally board the train with four minutes to spare (the conductor deciding to be a bit generous) you practically sink into the first empty window seat you spot. Isagi-san takes the one across from you. You look up at each other, sighing, then laugh.

Isagi-san looks very pretty with tears in his eyes from joy. You think this is the first time you’ve found a man attractive for all he is.

“What are you listening to?”

His voice is the same softness as it was all those months ago. You did not even notice you were still wearing your wireless earbuds. You also did not know why you grew so damn nervous all of a sudden in front of Isagi-san of all people.

“PJ Harvey…”

“An American artist?”

“I… like the melodies.”

He hums. You hold your breath, then you criticise yourself for holding your breath.

“Send me a playlist of her best, you’ve intrigued me.”

You can only nod. When the conductor announces that there is only a minute until departure, Isagi-san gets up and walks in the aisle.

“Get home safe, Y/n.”

Your eyes widen and you cannot help but involuntarily ask him, “This.. is not your train, Isagi-san?”

The man stills for a second. Then he only offers you a smile.

“Ah, nah. I take another line. It leaves in ten minutes. Thought I’d make sure you didn’t miss yours.”

You blink, not knowing what to say. And because Isagi-san is Isagi-san and he knows you and you know him, he takes the initiative to leave for you.

“Goodnight!”

The entire train ride home, you remember murmuring goodbye in twenty different tones, none of them the right one.

It only took you three nights and four days to realise: You think you like Yoichi. You don't think you've ever liked anyone before. There was Yamada-senpai in elementary school, but he made fun of your braces in front of all of his friends and ever since then you've sworn off on ever giving your heart to a filthy man.

You hate yourself. You can't help but say,

“H—Hello!”

When Isagi-san walks in. And he only ignores you. He looks dejected, like he has had a long night. You can only wonder about the possibility.

“Hey,"

Haiba-san thankfully asks the question which forms in your mind when Isagi-san takes his laptop from his cubicle, “Where are you heading, Isagi?!”

“Ah, I have a ton of work to do. Gonna sit in one of the offices outside.”

You think you like Isagi. He won’t spare you another glance.

Two weeks pass by. You tried to convince yourself you don't like Isagi-san. But then he wheels up into your cubicle again during lunch and acts as though nothing is wrong in the universe. You have been thinking about him nonstop for three hundred and thirty six hours and he treats you like you are his favourite bag. Still. Nothing has changed for him. Everything has, for you.

“What book is that?” He asks, eyeing the novel on your desk. You want to bash his skull in.

“Heaven by Kawakami.”

“I’ve heard of this.”

You want to hold his hand again. He picks it up.

“Is it any good?”

You want to stab his leg.

“Uhm, yeah, so far. A bit dark and disturbing, if you can handle it.”

You want to kiss his cheeks.

“Do you mind?”

You want to punch his dad.

“Go ahead.”

You want to never let him go.

The next day, after your spiral, he messages you on your work phone.

>> Ninomiya is terrible.

>> In Heaven.

Your heart races. You read his messages over and over again. You know it's small. You know it's terrible. You know this will hurt you. And it does.

In your eleventh month of working, you eavesdrop on Isagi-san and Haiba-san's conversation. Well, you do not really eavesdrop. More like they have their conversation right in front of your general vicinity. Half of you wonder if they know you even exist. Or, maybe, they care too little about your existence to deem you not a threat to their private gossip.

Isagi-san has a girl he likes.

“I keep telling her, I’m here for her, as a friend, you know. She’s just hung up on him.”

Isagi-san has a girl he likes.

“Still, you shouldn’t be harming yourself by doing this.”

Isagi-san has a girl he likes.

“What’s your opinion, L/n?”

You don't know why you were born this stupid. It was a bit cruel of God to do this.

“I… don’t know.”

Isagi-san is so soft with you. So gentle and sweet. He does not even realise what he's done, “You don’t have any advice?”

You can only nod, “I… wouldn’t know.”

They carry on their conversation. You leave. You don't see Isagi-san the rest of the week, and you are glad you don't.

Come three weeks, you grow anxious. You confide in Haiba-san.

“Where’s Isagi-san?”

“You didn’t know? He’s going to Europe for vacation.”

You don’t know why the news hits you as hard as it does. Why didn’t he tell you? Were you and Isagi even close enough to be considered friends? At times, he could be so sweet — enough for you to think that sweetness was only reserved for you. At others, he could be so cruel, always keeping you at an arm’s length from his life. Were you that untrustworthy to be let in? Were you that inexperienced he thought you stupid to understand? You were six years his junior — but you knew the world. You’ve known about it since you were twelve. Everyone in your life has deemed you dumb ever since you were a child. But you knew what you wanted and how you wanted it — no one in the entire universe could convince you otherwise. Not your mother, your brothers, your friends, or Yoichi.

And maybe that’s why the two of you could never work.

You cried for the first time that year. You have no one left to love. Bitter, cold and alone.

It feels like the End Of The World in July. 

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Omg they're ~~(wanted in at least 5 countries)~~ so silly I need the cheese ask with the other skellies pls

The main boys are here!

Horrorswap Sans - He scolds you for playing with food and starts eating the cheese anyway because he doesn't want to ruin it. But still, stop it!

Horrorswap Papyrus - He dramatically falls on the floor like a dying sea star, the cheese on his face. You killed him, congratulations.

Horrorfell Sans - He throws the cheese against the wall, hisses angrily, and then goes on all four to growl at the enemy. That's only when he realizes it's just cheese that he turns to you and starts to yell at you, asking if you think it's funny. Well. Yes, it is actually.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Are you proud of yourself? Throwing cheese at people who can't even walk to defend themselves. Shame on you. Shame on your cow. And shame on your face because as soon as you lower your guard, Chief slams the cheese back at you.

Outertale Sans - He dodges, mocking your terrible aim, knocks himself out against the ceiling, falls on the floor, and the cheese falls back on his face. Loser.

Outertale Papyrus - What are you? Five? He scolds you for showing a bad example to the children he's babysitting. Now go in timeout to think about what you just did. You regret nothing though.

Dancetale Sans - He ducks, does a back somersault, and shoots the cheese in the air like a pro footballer. The cheese somehow ends back in your face instead of his. Not fair.

Dancetale Papyrus - He screams, slaps the cheese on the floor, slips on the cheese, and falls on his back in an even louder scream. He then gives you an angry stare. You decide to retreat.

Dancefell Sans - He stays still :( He probably deserved this. He's a loser after all. He sits sadly on the floor with his cheese on his face and he stays there. What a drama queen, you swear.

Dancefell Papyrus - You thought it would be fun to do it while he's streaming. You didn't expect the Internet to turn this into a meme though. Poor Tango has his cheese face on every screen of the world for two whole months. He's mad at you lol.

Farmtale Sans - Uh oh. If there's something you don't want to insult, it's Sam's cows. And you just threw his baby's cheese at his face! How dare you! He starts a 10-minute speech about how hard it is to make cheese and how you're ruining his work with your pranks. You can stop chuckling honestly.

Farmtale Papyrus - He gives you a confused look, mildly panicked. Did he do something wrong? Are you angry at him? Why? He doesn't understand what's going on and he's not sure if he should laugh with you or hide or something.

Mafiatale Sans - He gives you an unamused stare, the cheese in his hand. You think you're really funny, uh? You're not going to laugh so much when he will mess with the water temperature while you're taking your shower tonight. But he will though.

Mafiatale Papyrus - Creeper keeps his natural poker face, not really caring about the cheese. He quickly discards it and returns to whatever he is doing. You're pretty sure you saw the shadow of a smile on his face but it's hard to tell, really. He's too good at being expressionless.

Mafiafell Sans - He tries to warn you, but you do it anyway. Suddenly, the leashes of the twenty dogs you were holding pulls forward, making you literally fly. The dogs all jump on Fang so they can have the cheese on his face. As for you, you're biting the dust... Quite literally.

Mafiafell Papyrus - Torpedo does the dramatic turnaround and asks silently who threw cheese behind his head. Because you have a survival instinct, you immediately points at Fang, who is sleeping peacefully at his desk. You feel bad when Torpedo starts to yell at his brother, flipping the desk over with everything on it. You decide it's maybe best to retreat because Fang is staring through your soul and you have a feeling you will pay for that.

Ink - He accidentally put his brush in the way, which opened a portal on an Undertale cheese AU where all characters are cheese. Ink is very excited and insists you two should go to try to eat Sans. You're not sure about this.

Error - He moved at the same time and now the cheese is in his eye socket. Error is rolling on the floor, screaming and glitching in agony, trying to get this thing out of there. Let's just say you better run fast and far away from him.

Disbelief Papyrus - He ducks instinctively. The cheese ends in Asgore's beard, who was just standing behind. You have a fun afternoon planned now, trying to save Asgore's beard without shaving it because the cheese is stuck in there. Delta is lecturing you while you're working.

Killer Sans - He hates cheese. He has the biggest gagging ever, throws the cheese away and runs to clean his face. He can't stand the smell, he swears he's going to grow himself a stomach to puke. You just found a mass destruction weapon randomly. Cool.

Dustale Sans - His brain completely stops working and he starts to stare at the emptiness. There's nothing in these eyes anymore. He stays there, frozen, and refuses to move before you get rid of the cheese.

[transform4u]

Hey I was out celebrating my 21st birthday at my first gay bar with friends when these obnoxious straight dudes came in and started killing the vibes. Me and my friends were able to avoid them for the most part but when I went up to get more drinks one of em started talking to me and asked to play gay chicken? And I just feel like I can't say no

As you stood there in the gay bar with your friends, trying to enjoy a fun night out, the atmosphere suddenly took an unexpected turn when TJ, RJ, and CJ swaggered over, all loud laughs and macho posturing. They started goading you to play 'Gay Chicken,' a game you'd only vaguely heard of and never expected to encounter in real life. You hesitated, unsure how to respond at first, feeling a mix of annoyance and curiosity at their brash challenge.

When RJ mocked you, using a stereotypically effeminate voice and "Aw, the sissy doesn't want to play" swishing his hands around. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself agreeing to their ridiculous bet. After all, you thought, you're openly gay and proud—there's no way these straight gym bros could outlast you in this game of awkward confrontations.

Gathering your resolve, you decided to play up the stereotype, thinking it might throw them off or at least make them uncomfortable enough to back down. "So, like, what's your favorite show tune, sweetie?" you quipped, leaning in a bit closer to RJ with a mischievous grin.

But as RJ responded with a deadpan "Hamilton," something felt off. It wasn't the flamboyant reaction you expected. Trying another angle, you asked RJ "Uh, well, um, who the hottest pop star?", you meant to ask who was the best pop diva but it came out all wrong. "Sabrina Carpenter, duh, bro," RJ replied casually.

Confusion washed over you. This wasn't right. RJ's responses were too… normal. Too straight. It dawned on you slowly, like a fog clearing from your mind, that perhaps these guys weren't playing the game you thought. Maybe they weren't playing any game at all. As the realization sank in, you felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration. The discomfort in the air was palpable, and you couldn't wait to retreat back to the safety of your friends, wondering how you'd gotten into this bizarre situation in the first place.

As the scene unfolded in the dimly lit gay bar, you found yourself surrounded by TJ, RJ, and CJ, their presence looming larger and more imposing with each passing moment. What started as a lighthearted challenge now felt suffocating, their energy and bravado pressing in on you like a heavy weight.

You tried to maintain your composure, but a strange sensation crept over you, like a thick fog descending upon your mind. It was as if your thoughts were becoming sluggish and disjointed, slipping beyond your control. Normally, these guys you'd find hot I mean—the tight abs, big biceps. It was the typical guy you lusted after, but tonight, now, they just felt like normal bros. The type of bros you'd love to hang with.

As TJ's voice cut through the haze, asking "Yo, bro, who is uhh huhhuh the best football team in the NFL?" you replied mechanically, "Duh, San Francisco 49ers, bro. Even though they're from fag city hahaha" with dumb chuckle not clocking your use of slur you'd never uttered in such a way before. The word 'bro' slipped out effortlessly, a small detail that should have struck you as odd, but it passed unnoticed in your increasingly befuddled state. Meanwhile, you felt a strange sensation in your body, a subtle yet undeniable shift. You became aware of your muscles tightening, swelling almost imperceptibly beneath your skin. Your pecs and biceps seemed to thicken, veins pulsating faintly along their contours. Even your stomach felt different, a slight layer forming over your abs, hinting at what could develop into a beer belly.

CJ's voice broke through your confusion next, asking you "Dude, who is like they haha, hottest girl you'd ever seen?" You'd never really found girls attractive in that way, but to your horror, your mouth moved before your brain could intervene. "Sydney Sweeney," you grunted out, the name unfamiliar yet somehow fitting the image forming in your mind.

As your mind began to process the information, you couldn't help but feel a strange sensation washing over you. It was as if all the memories of hooking up with guys were being erased from your mind, replaced by an intense desire for Sydney Sweeney. You could practically see her in front of you, her perfect body begging to be touched and explored.

Your heart raced as you imagined motorboating her tits or feeling her soft skin against yours. The thought of being with a woman like Sydney made everything else seem insignificant; it was almost as if she had been destined for you all along. As for hooking up with dudes, well...the very idea now repulsed you completely.

The thought of hooking up with a guy now made you feel physically ill. The very idea of being intimate with someone who wasn't some big tit blonde bitch repulsed you to your core. You couldn't believe how quickly your sexuality had shifted, but there was no denying the intense attraction you felt for her now. Every time she crossed your mind, heat would rush through your body, making it impossible not to imagine what it would be like to have her in bed beside you.

It was as if your very identity was slipping away, reshaping itself under the influence of their expectations. The fog in your mind thickened further, obscuring rational thought and replacing it with a strange compliance. You wanted to resist, to shake off this bizarre transformation, but with each passing moment, it felt harder to grasp onto who you truly were.

The realization hit you like a wave crashing over your head—you were losing 'gay chicken' in the most unexpected and unsettling way possible. As panic surged through you, you longed desperately to break free from their hold, to reclaim your sense of self before it was completely swallowed by this surreal and disturbing game.

As TJ's final question pierced through the noise of the bar, "Bro, who is the hottest chick in this bar tonight? You should totally try to bang her!" you felt an unfamiliar surge of confidence and bravado take hold of you. Without hesitation, your hand shot out, pointing towards a random blonde bimbo, who looked drunk enough to sleep with. A cocky grin spread across your face, and in that moment, something within you shifted.

Your clothes seemed to morph on their own accord, transforming into the typical attire of a fratbro: khaki shorts, a polo shirt with the collar popped, and boat shoes. With each step you took towards the blonde bimbo, your swagger grew more pronounced. Your posture straightened, shoulders broadening with a newfound muscularity that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. It was as if your muscles had swelled under your skin, sculpting a physique that exuded strength and confidence.

As you approached her, you noticed a haze settling over your thoughts, blurring the edges of reality. The fog of being in a perpetual state of drunkenness seemed to envelop your mind, dulling your senses and inhibitions. You felt like you were living in a perpetual frat party, where the only goals were to party hard, hook up, and assert your dominance among your bros.

"Hey there, gorgeous," you slurred with a grin, the words coming out with a casual arrogance that was foreign yet strangely comfortable. "What's your name, bro?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering softly, "Lisa." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it did nothing to quell the fire burning inside. With renewed confidence fueled by alcohol and testosterone, you reached out and grabbed her ass – only for her to slap your hand away while simultaneously throwing her drink in your face! "Hahaha, what's the matter babe? Don't dress like a slut if you don't wanna little action" you respond as she walks away to dance with her friends.

You walked back over to my group of friends – TJ, CJ, and RJ– who were all laughing hysterically. As soon as they saw you approach with an angry expression on your face and wet clothes from head-to-toe due to Lisa's retaliation, their laughter only intensified further still!

"Damn AJ," said RJ between fits of giggles,"guess she wasn't drunk enough after all!"

You were caught in the whirlwind of frat life, where muscles and bravado spoke louder than introspection and self-awareness. As the night unfolded, you embraced the role of the loudmouthed, party-loving fratbro, lost in a haze of alcohol and the relentless pursuit of the next adrenaline rush.

The rest of the night is a blur as you continue to drink with your best bros, TJ, CJ and RJ. You spend the rest of the night hitting on bimbos and drinking until you black out.

You wake up the next morning in the frat house, in bed with some bimbo bitch whose name you can't recall. As your eyes slowly adjust to the light filtering through the curtains, you notice her perky tits on display and feel a raging boner ready to go. Without asking for permission or even introducing yourself properly; she crawls underneath your sheets and starts sucking on your cock like it's an ice cream cone! Soon you find yourself pushing her back on the bed as you crawl on top of the bimbo bitch and begin fucking her into the morning. Your drunken state makes it difficult to maintain control, and soon enough you're slamming into her with reckless abandon. She moans loudly as your cock hits all the right spots.

You can feel yourself getting closer to cumming but decide to prolong the pleasure by pulling out just before reaching orgasm. You then proceed to cum all over her face, laughing maniacally as she tries desperately wipe away your seed from around her mouth and eyes.

You realize that not only have you become one of those dumbass straight bro who gets drunk every weekend but also an object of ridicule among your peers for getting slapped by Lisa last night. Your reputation has taken a serious hit, and there's no way out of this mess now...