#1 fan!
// vivien hugo x fem! reader
syn: only blue lock could find a way to make money off your miserable appearance... and only hugo could be your most dedicated stan.
wc: 2329
cw: buratsuta, a few su/cide jokes, 1 murder joke, fat/ugly jokes about buratsuta
notes: fem pronouns / fluff / no y/n used / ooc hugo / miscommunication-ish / they're both still stupid your honor / hugo is crazy mentally
a/n: brazil losing the match pmo so bad (im only annoyed at the br team norway did well) i started writing this / also nothing about this is realistic in the slightest i just thought it would be funny
previous series masterlist next
wow, that was a good nap, was the first thing you thought when you woke up. as your senses slowly came back to you, you realised that you weren't in the cafeteria like you clearly remember being. no, you were somehow in your room.
when you stumbled out of bed and looked at the time on your phone, you nearly fainted. you clearly remember it was 9pm, so how is it now 9am?! and if the time wasn't enough, the sunlight peeking through the blinds was undeniable proof. how did you sleep for 12 hours?
in the midst of your confusion, the door opens, making you flinch. anri's distinctive pinkish-orange hair appears, and her face is a mixture of what you can only describe as pity and nerves. her expression brightens up slightly when she notices that you're awake, flicking the light on, blinding you.
"good morning!" she greets cheerily, closing the door. you mumble a morning back, rubbing your eyes. "did you have a good sleep?"
"mm, but how did i get to my room…? i thought i was in the cafeteria…" anri visibly stiffens up at your question, her smile fully nervous.
"well, you see… you fell asleep there, and…" she hesitates to continue despite you looking at her inquisitively, urging her to continue. with a wince, she looks away from your face, and says: "vivien hugo found you first, and ended up carrying you to your room. i was the one who brought him here, of course… we tried to wake you up, but you weren't budging at all! …besides, you've been working especially hard these days, so i thought it was good for you to get some rest…"
her explanation grows more frantic with every word, while sounding like she was trying to justify what happened. what you were really stuck on was that hugo carried you back. hugo. vivien hugo. that hugo?
"vivien… hugo? the one from france?" you blurt, eyes looking down to the shirt on your body. the iconic deep blue of france stares right back at you.
anri tilts her head to the side, now able to look back at you, expression morphed into one of confusion. "there's only one vivien hugo…"
you flop back onto the bed and shove your face into the pillow. you were going to die of embarrassment.
"anri, please tell me you're pulling my leg." your plea comes out muffled, but even you know that she wouldn't joke about something like that. it just sounds so absurd that your mind is in a deep state of denial.
"why would i joke about that…" the confusion in her voice is palpable, as the weight of the shirt only feels heavier on your body.
"but why was he still here that late? shouldn't he have gone back to his hotel already?" you're trying desperately to find gaps in the story, worse than grasping at straws, you were trying to grasp at microfibers. as expected, it only serves to keep you company as you sink further into disbelief.
"he said he was reviewing footage and lost track of time, i called him a taxi after he brought you back." she explains, effectively crumbling any plausible explanation you held onto. your body and face practically burns with embarrassment.
"anri, should i just kill myself?" your expression is bleak as you sit back up, your thoughts even more so. her jaw drops as she cries in shock, taking your hands in hers in record speed while her head shakes left and right in such quick succession that you were starting to think that she might get whiplash.
"it's not that bad, really! please don't say those kinds of things!!!"
as it turns out, it is that bad, really. for an entirely different reason.
capitalism is a contagious virus that must be eradicated, is what your solemn thoughts settle on after hearing what buratsuta had to say. as per usual, they were anything but pleasant let alone meaningful, but this time in particular did you really think that you should consider becoming a philosopher or a writer instead, what with all the novel ways you were coming up with to insult him and by extension the JFU. truly, you underestimated the value of language, sentence structure, and the myriad of words at your disposal. all you're missing is a dictionary to expand your vocabulary.
"—and that's why, to capitalise off the world cup being held in japan, we've decided to make you into a limited edition plush keychain!" his annoyingly stupid voice says, fat finger pointing at you while he grins using the face not even his mother could love to introduce the plush hanging from his finger. a flashing thought of buratsuta is a monument of all that is wrong with japanese football, and japan as a society, disappears as quickly as it forms.
the plush's face has a visibly downturn expression, brows knitted in worry. honestly, it looked like it was about to burst into tears. you would too if buratsuta was holding you like that. in its right hand was a miniature clipboard. they've managed to get most of your features right, you'll give them credit for that.
"um." you're genuinely speechless. first, you woke up having magically teleported to your room from the cafeteria, only to find out that the one guy who you are inexplicably afraid of was said teleportation. then, you're told that you have been made into a limited edition merchandise in hopes of boosting sales, without your consent! surely they could have made sae, someone with heaps more fans and fame, into one instead of you?!
"we have already made 100 copies of it, and announced it since last week. it will only be up for sale for as long as the stock doesn't run out, and if it finishes quickly, we'll make more!" buratsuta eagerly explains to the audience consisting of only you, ego, and anri. neither of you looked like you wanted nor consented to being here.
"doesn't that defeat the purpose of it being limited, though…?" you mumble more to yourself, your brain about four hours behind. it would've been better if you just stayed asleep forever.
"that's why we can make more variations of you, each limited edition! and because it's limited edition, we can even double the price!" his eyes are practically dollar signs with the way he's speaking, and you can't help but cringe. why was he speaking about you like you were only a piece of merchandise…
you can vaguely hear anri arguing with buratsuta, but you're sincerely thinking about retirement from this field of work. the paycheck is not all it's cracked up to be, there's no pride to be spoken of, hell, there's no life to be even thought of.
"at least give me a cut of the sales," you sigh, head in your hands. anri makes a sound of agreement, and you're sure ego couldn't care less.
"of course! 5%!"
forget killing yourself, you should kill buratsuta instead.
there was an interesting post hugo saw the other day, during his monthly instagram doomscroll. it's not something he's proud of, but at least it only happens once a month. this time however, is perhaps the first time he has ever felt grateful for doomscrolling.
hugo came upon a post from the japanese football union, an announcement for the new release of world cup exclusive merchandise. at first, hugo was going to scroll past. he's not into merchandise for himself, let alone of a completely foreign country. but just as his thumb was poised to flick, he noticed something, or rather, someone.
there was a plushie with familiar details. a shade of hair he sees often in his life and dreams these days, eyes he would know anywhere. the cherry on top was the little clipboard in their hand, and hugo knew in an instant that it was you. that pitiful, downturned expression grasped at his heartstrings immediately, and hugo knew that it was his civic duty to buy plushie you and give you a loving home.
all 100 of you.
otherwise, what kind of a suitor would he be if he didn't show his dedication to you? besides, it would be very motivating to see mini you by his bedside every morning, greeting him in lieu of the real you.
so he marks the date down on his reminders, and patiently counts the days until he can bring home the soft and fuzzy version of you.
and that's how hugo ends up arriving in front of the blue lock merchandise store, a few minutes after opening. he can already see you at the very front, words in japanese he can't read.
hugo's steps speed up ever so slightly, with half a mind to take one of the shopping baskets. he approaches the stand holding all 100 of you, and picks up one wrapped in plastic reverently.
quietly, he meticulously adds each one to his basket, arranging them neatly in rows. mentally, he counts each one. the price wasn't something he was concerned about, to say the least. that was a perk of being a famous footballer with a contract in a famous team. plus, it's not like he ever spends that money, anyway.
96, 97, 98, 99…
the empty shelf in front of hugo tells no lies. there was only 99 of you. he blinks and look back at the rows of plushie you, and then back at the empty shelves, and there's still none of you left. did he count wrong?
maybe he did, he tries to comfort himself. he'll have a second opportunity to do a headcount when he's paying. and if it really is true that one of you is missing, then he can ask the cashier. as the saying goes, faire d'une pierre deux coups, or kill two birds with one stone.
the lady at the counter greets him while he places his shopping basket on the counter. her eyes widen comically at the stacks of plushie you, and she looks hesitant to start scanning them.
"i'm sorry sir, but i have to ask, are you trying to re-sell these?" the earbuds translate her question, hugo shaking his head no in response. he takes his phone out of his pocket to open a translator app, typing his response swiftly.
no, it's a personal collection. i am a big fan of the character. his reply is a stark contrast to the lack of expression on his face, and it's clear as day that she doesn't believe him. however, she doesn't press on, instead starting to scan the mountain of plushies in his basket.
hugo's count starts again, eyes focused on each and every single plushie as they get taken out, scanned, and added to the bag, but just as before, his count stops at 99.
on his phone, he types again: do you know if someone bought the first one?
the cashier reads it and thinks for a moment as she types the price into the card reader. then, she nods.
"someone came in just before you did and bought the first one." she shows him the price, a whopping ¥594,000 not including tax, but hugo hardly bats an eye as he types in his pin. €3,200 was hardly anything if it was for and about you. (besides, he probably earns that within a few days, if not hours.)
hugo walks out of the store both elated and a little disappointed. he couldn't buy all of you, but he did get almost everyone. the next step is getting you, the real person.
(there's a viral post on twitter the next day, of a man that looks exactly like hugo photographed at the blue lock merchandise shop buying all the limited edition manager plushies. the caption is an angry, "who does this scalper think he is?!", but as time goes on, people are increasingly doubting whether he's a scalper or just a really rich, dedicated, and greedy fan.
some people point out that he looks awfully similar to vivien hugo, the football player, but others brush them off. but this quickly gains more attention when a photo of him walking to his training grounds the next day has your plushie dangling from a zipper on his training bag, safe in a little plastic cage.
charles and loki both side-eyed the new addition to his bag, one a lot more subtle than the other. charles asked if hugo could get him one, but hugo was uncharacteristically absentminded, too focused on patting your sad little face. and also wondering who managed to get the first plushie.
on the other side, buratsuta is ecstatic that you've sold so well despite being a nobody. you're scratching your head wondering who the hell would buy a dumb plushie of you, when you come across a photo of a european-looking man carrying a shopping basket full of those accursed plushies of you.
you squint as you bring your phone closer to your face, feeling an odd sense of familiarity at the burgundy-black hair. but from the side, you can hardly recognise a thing.
you're inclined to brush it off, after all, these past few days have been a lot, but then a second photo hits your timeline, this time undeniable proof that it is, in fact, hugo himself, plushie you securely placed inside the plastic cage attached to his bag.
to make things worse, basically everyone in blue lock had seen the viral tweet and sent it to you to ask if it was hugo.
as if that wasn't bad enough, you later saw a news article titled: "NEW GENERATION XI MEMBER VIVIEN HUGO SEEN BULK-BUYING BLUE LOCK MERCHANDISE?" with a picture of your plushie plastered right next to a blurry picture of hugo inside the store.
everyday you wake up is both a mistake and a new, unique horror made to torment you and only you.)
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