haiii, ik ur trying to clear drafts and such so pls take ur time and get to this whenever u can <33 i loved ur fic on bllk boys seeing ur sh scars and reassuring/loving on reader, i was wondering if youd be comfortable doing smth similar but with ng11 + scars on their thighs rather than their wrists (yes teddy can come too) tyy ml
❥ ּ֯ ┆ ꒰ the beauty of scars ꒱┆new gen 11 x fem! reader┆tw; sh scars mentioned
michael kaiser 𝜗ৎ
michael wasn’t the type to pretend something did not exist just to make someone feel better.
if he noticed something, he noticed it, and if it mattered to the person he loved, then it mattered to him too. the first time he caught a glimpse of the faint scars stretching across your thighs, there wasn't any surprise on his face, no awkward silence, and definitely no pity.
his gaze simply lingered for a brief second before returning to you as if nothing about you had changed.
because to him, nothing had. you, however, had been so used to hiding them that even wearing shorts around him made your stomach twist with worry.
every time you sat beside him, your hands would unconsciously tug the fabric lower, trying to cover as much skin as possible before he could look.
michael noticed that habit almost immediately. he noticed how your smile became smaller whenever your scars were visible, how your shoulders stiffened if his hand rested a little too close to them, and how you'd subtly shift away whenever you caught him glancing in that direction, convinced he was silently judging every line left behind.
instead of pointing it out right away, he gave you time. michael wasn't always patient with the rest of the world, but with you, he found himself slowing down without even realizing it.
one lazy afternoon while the two of you were stretched across the couch together, your legs resting over his lap as he absentmindedly played with your fingers, the blanket slipped just enough to expose your thighs. before you could panic and pull it back into place, one of his hands gently settled against your leg, warm and steady.
he didn't rush after you when your muscles instinctively tensed beneath his touch. instead, his thumb slowly traced over the skin, barely brushing across one of the faded marks with such unbelievable gentleness that it almost made your chest ache.
there was no hesitation in him, no discomfort, only quiet affection, like he was memorizing every part of you without separating the pieces you loved from the ones you struggled to accept.
he tilted his head slightly when he noticed you refusing to meet his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against one of the scars without making a show of it.
then another, and another, until you couldn't stop staring at him with wide, watery eyes. michael looked back up at you almost amused by your expression, lifting an eyebrow as if he couldn't understand why you looked so shocked.
to him, these weren't flaws that needed to be ignored or hidden away. they were simply a part of your body, and your body was someone he adored with all the selfish devotion he was capable of giving.
"you always try to hide them," he murmured quietly, his voice unusually soft compared to his usual teasing tone.
"why?" when you mumbled something about them being ugly, his smile disappeared almost instantly, replaced with a look that was surprisingly serious. he gently cupped your face, making sure you couldn't look away this time. "don't decide what's ugly for me."
his words stayed with you long after that moment.
whenever you apologized for them, he'd stop you before you could even finish the sentence, almost looking offended that you thought he wanted an apology in the first place. sometimes, while the two of you watched movies or simply laid together after long days apart, his fingers would absentmindedly draw lazy circles over your thighs without avoiding the scars once.
every now and then he'd press another small kiss against them simply because he could, treating them no differently than kissing your forehead or your hands.
eventually, without either of you realizing when it happened, you stopped pulling your shorts down every few minutes. you stopped covering yourself with blankets whenever you sat beside him. you stopped flinching whenever his eyes wandered. not because the scars disappeared, but because michael had spent so much time showing you they never changed the way he looked at you.
in his eyes, they had never taken away your beauty, never made you any less deserving of affection, and never became something he had to overlook in order to love you.
they were simply yours, and because they were a part of you, he accepted them with the same unwavering confidence he accepted everything else, making it impossible not to slowly believe him when he reminded you, over and over again, that there had never been anything wrong with you to begin with.
sae itoshi 𝜗ৎ
he wasn't overly expressive, nor was he the type to shower someone with constant reassurance through endless words.
instead, everything he felt showed through the small things he did without thinking, the quiet habits that became impossible to miss once someone knew him well enough.
that was why, when you constantly adjusted the hem of your shorts whenever the two of you were together, or chose oversized clothes even on warm days, sae noticed long before you ever mentioned it.
he noticed the way your hands lingered over the fabric, how you instinctively crossed your legs whenever he looked in your direction, and how conversations became just a little quieter whenever the faded scars scattered across your thighs were visible.
he never asked about them immediately. if they were something difficult to talk about, then forcing the conversation would only make you retreat further, and sae had never believed trust could be rushed.
it wasn't until one day while the two of you were relaxing at home that the topic finally found its way between you.
the two of you sat together on the couch after a long day, neither paying much attention to the tv quietly playing in the background. you had absentmindedly tucked one leg beneath the other, forgetting for just a moment to keep the faded marks hidden. the second you realized, you immediately reached for the blanket to pull it over yourself.
before you could finish, sae's hand gently rested against your knee, stopping the movement without using any force. he didn't say anything at first. he simply looked at you with the same calm expression he always carried, almost as though he couldn't understand why there was such a desperate need to hide.
when you quietly admitted that the scars weren't something worth looking at, sae's expression softened in a way only those closest to him would ever notice.
he let out a small sigh before lightly brushing his thumb across your knee, never making an effort to avoid the faded lines beneath his touch.
"you're acting like they change something," he said simply. "they don't." there wasn't any dramatic speech behind those words, no attempt to say exactly what you wanted to hear. it was simply the truth as he saw it.
to sae, they were another part of the person he loved, no different from your smile, your hands he had held countless times, or your quiet presence beside him after a long day. pretending the scars didn't exist would only make them seem shameful, and he refused to treat them that way.
after that conversation, little moments began happening naturally. whenever the two of you sat together, his hand would rest comfortably against your thigh while the two of you talked, his thumb absentmindedly moving back and forth without avoiding the scars once.
whenever you instinctively tried to tug your shorts lower, sae would quietly catch your wrist for a brief second before letting go, meeting your eyes with the same calm, unwavering expression. "stop hiding," he'd murmur. "you don't have to."
he never made your scars the center of every conversation, nor did he constantly remind you that you were beautiful.
instead, he treated them with complete normalcy. there were no lingering stares filled with pity, no awkward pauses, and no careful avoidance whenever they happened to be visible. eventually, afternoons passed without you thinking to cover them anymore.
the two of you would sit together on the couch exactly as you always had, your legs stretched out comfortably while sae quietly read whatever book happened to be in his hands, absentmindedly resting one hand against your thigh as though nothing about those old marks had ever deserved a second thought.
and somehow, that quiet certainty accomplished what endless reassurance never could. without realizing it, you slowly began to feel more comfortable in your own skin—not because the scars disappeared, but because someone who rarely wasted words had made it clear through every small action that they had never changed the way he looked at you.
bunny iglesias 𝜗ৎ
it didn't take long for him to realize there was always a moment of hesitation whenever you wore shorts during warm weather, or how a blanket somehow found its way over your legs even when the room wasn't cold.
every time attention drifted a little too close to the faded scars scattered across your thighs, your smile would grow noticeably smaller. bunny never teased you, never asked questions in front of anyone else, and never acted as though he hadn't noticed.
he simply waited until the right moment, wanting the conversation to happen because it felt safe instead of forced.
that moment arrived one quiet afternoon while the two of you were relaxing together after a long day. music played softly in the background as the two of you sat on the floor of the living room, talking about nothing important while sharing snacks between yourselves.
somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you absentmindedly tried pulling your shorts lower over the faded marks before even realizing it. bunny noticed the movement almost immediately. instead of pretending not to see it, he gently reached over and rested a hand against your knee, stopping the nervous habit before you could continue.
there wasn't pity in his expression or concern that felt overwhelming.
there was only quiet understanding. "you don't have to do that around me," he said with a small smile, his voice softer than usual. "i've never looked at you any differently."
when you quietly admitted that the scars felt embarrassing, bunny looked genuinely confused for a second before letting out the smallest laugh, not because he found your feelings funny, but because he couldn't understand why someone he cared about so deeply believed there was something to hide.
he slowly brushed his thumb across the faded lines without hesitation, treating them no differently than the rest of your skin beneath his fingertips. "they're part of you," he murmured. "and i already decided i liked all of you a long time ago."
the words were simple, spoken without trying to sound poetic, yet they carried an honesty that was impossible to question. he wasn't trying to convince you that the scars were beautiful. he simply didn't believe they took anything away from you in the first place.
after that day, nothing dramatically changed between the two of you, and that was what made the biggest difference. bunny never turned your scars into a sensitive topic that needed constant reassurance. if they were visible, they were visible.
if they weren't, he never thought about them. whenever the two of you sat together watching movies or spending quiet afternoons doing absolutely nothing, his hand would naturally find its way to rest across your thigh, absentmindedly tracing slow circles while he listened to whatever story you were telling.
there was no hesitation in his touch, no careful effort to avoid the old marks, and no moment where he looked uncomfortable. every small action carried the same quiet message without needing to repeat it out loud.
over time, those little moments began to matter more than any speech ever could. you stopped instinctively pulling blankets over your legs, shorts no longer felt impossible to wear around him, and the nervous habit of trying to hide slowly faded until you barely noticed yourself doing it anymore. bunny never pointed those changes out or made a big deal about them.
he simply smiled whenever he noticed them, happy that you looked more comfortable than before. to him, your scars had never been something that needed fixing or ignoring. they were simply another part of you, and loving someone had never meant choosing only the easiest parts.
it meant accepting every piece without making them feel like they had to earn that acceptance, and bunny did exactly that every single day without expecting anything in return.
vivian hugo 𝜗ৎ
it had started out as something so small, almost unnoticeable, just your hand moving on its own whenever you sat beside hugo, always pulling at the hem of your shorts or making sure a blanket stayed over your lap even though the room wasn't cold, always finding little ways to keep your thighs hidden without thinking twice about it.
but hugo noticed because he noticed everything about you, especially the habits you never realized you had. he never brought it up right away, never asked questions that would make you feel cornered.
and he definitely wasn't the type to force conversations before you were ready, so instead he simply stayed patient, waiting until you were comfortable enough to let those walls down yourself.
the first time you stopped hiding was completely by accident. you had been curled up beside him after a long day, too tired to think about how you were sitting, and your shorts had ridden up enough for the faded scars across your thighs to finally be seen.
the second you realized, your whole body stiffened, your hands immediately moving to cover them before you could even think, embarrassment settling into your chest so quickly it almost hurt, but before you could apologize or move away.
hugo's hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you without using any force, his touch careful enough that it almost felt like he was asking for permission instead of taking it.
he didn't stare, didn't let his expression change into pity or surprise, and that alone made something inside you loosen. his thumb slowly brushed over the back of your hand before his eyes drifted down for only a moment, treating the scars with the same quiet normalcy he treated every other part of you, as though they weren't something ugly or shameful, but simply another piece of the person he loved.
with the smallest smile, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over the healed lines, so gentle that it almost tickled, as if he were afraid of making you uncomfortable even though they no longer hurt.
"these are still yours," he murmured softly, his voice calm enough to quiet every anxious thought racing through your head. "and you're still you."
there wasn't a single hint of disgust in his eyes, only warmth, only the same affection he always looked at you with. his hand rested against your thigh for a moment before he leaned forward, pressing the lightest kiss over the scars, not because he believed a kiss could erase them, but because he wanted you to know they had never changed the way he saw you.
he thought they weren't flaws to ignore or imperfections to pretend didn't exist. they were simply proof that you had lived through things you never should have had to, and somehow you were still here beside him.
when you looked away, unable to meet his eyes, hugo gently cupped your face until you finally glanced back at him, watching as he smiled in that quiet, reassuring way that always made everything feel a little less heavy.
he reminded you that you never had to hide around him, never had to apologize for parts of yourself that had already carried enough weight, and if there were days when you forgot that, then he would remind you as many times as it took.
whether those scars were visible or hidden beneath your clothes made no difference to him, because he had never fallen in love with perfect skin.
he had fallen in love with you, every part of you, and there would never be a version of you that he could love more than the one sitting beside him now.
teddy knight 𝜗ৎ
teddy had noticed the faint lines on your thighs long before you ever brought them up, but he never stared, never asked questions you clearly weren't ready to answer.
he never made you feel like you had to explain something so personal.
to him, they were simply another part of you, no different from the freckles on your face or the little habits he had grown so used to over time.
he understood that some things were carried quietly, and if you ever wanted to tell him the story behind them, he would listen without interrupting, without judging, and without trying to fix something that wasn't his to fix.
the first time you nervously tried to pull your clothes down to hide them after noticing his eyes drift in that direction, teddy gently stopped you before you could disappear into your own embarrassment. his expression stayed calm, warm, and completely free of pity, because pity was the last thing he wanted you to feel.
instead, he reminded you that you never had to hide from him, that nothing about those scars changed the way he saw you, and that they didn't erase everything else that made you who you were. if anything, he admired how much strength it must have taken to keep moving forward, even on the days when it felt impossible.
from that moment on, he made it his quiet mission to help you feel comfortable in your own skin again, never forcing confidence onto you, but patiently helping you find it yourself.
if you caught yourself covering your legs out of habit, he would gently remind you that you didn't owe anyone perfection.
if you became quiet after noticing someone glance your way, he'd naturally shift your attention somewhere else until the worry faded from your face. every small step forward felt like something worth celebrating to him, whether it was wearing shorts around the house or simply letting yourself exist without constantly thinking about your scars.
teddy never acted like they were something beautiful just for the sake of saying it, because he knew empty words didn't help.
instead, he loved you in ways that proved they never changed how much you meant to him, showing through every patient smile, every reassuring touch to your hand, and every quiet moment together that you were always enough exactly as you were.
julian loki 𝜗ৎ
julian had always been observant, noticing the smallest changes in your mood before you even realized they had become visible yourself, so it wasn't surprising that he had quietly noticed the scars on your thighs long ago.
he never brought them up out of curiosity, never let his eyes linger long enough to make you uncomfortable, and never treated them like they were something unusual.
they were simply a part of your story, one that belonged to you alone, and he respected that enough to wait until you were ready to let him into it instead of trying to force the conversation.
the day you hesitantly admitted how embarrassed you felt about them, expecting him to see you differently, julian's expression barely changed.
there was no shock, no awkward silence, and certainly no disappointment. he simply looked at you with the same calm warmth he always had, gently reminding you that nothing about those marks could change the way he cared for you.
he wasn't interested in pretending they didn't exist, because he knew ignoring them wouldn't make your feelings disappear, but he also refused to let them become the first thing you thought about whenever you looked at yourself.
after that, he became quietly reassuring in ways only someone as patient as julian could be.
whenever you instinctively reached to cover your legs, he'd casually rest a hand over yours before you could pull the fabric down, silently reminding you that you didn't have to hide around him.
if you became nervous before going somewhere that meant wearing clothes that showed your thighs, he never pressured you to be brave all at once.
he just encouraged every small step at your own pace, making sure you knew that confidence wasn't something you had to force overnight. on the days when your insecurities became louder than anything he could say, he stayed close without overwhelming you, letting his steady presence do most of the comforting.
over time, you realized he never loved you despite your scars, because that would mean they were something that needed forgiving.
he loved all of you without separating the easy parts from the difficult ones, and that simple, unwavering acceptance slowly became enough to quiet the voice in your head that insisted you had to hide yourself away.
don lorenzo 𝜗ৎ
at first, don lorenzo didn't think much about the scars on your thighs, not because he hadn't noticed them, but because he never understood why they should change anything between the two of you.
after everything he had been through growing up, after being treated like he was worthless simply because of how he looked and where he came from, scars had never been something that made a person less valuable in his eyes.
if anything, he knew better than most that the world could leave marks on people, and that surviving it was something to be respected, not hidden away.
he only realized how much they bothered you when you started pulling away anytime your legs were visible, quickly covering yourself the second you noticed him nearby, almost like you were expecting him to react with disgust. instead, he simply frowned, confused that you thought he ever could.
with that familiar grin returning to his face, he casually reminded you that if he thought a few scars were enough to change the way he saw someone, then he would've hated looking in the mirror years ago.
there wasn't a trace of mockery in his voice, only quiet honesty hidden beneath his usual carefree attitude, making it impossible to mistake his words as empty comfort.
from then on, he made sure you never felt like you had to shrink yourself around him.
whenever you started apologizing for your appearance or comparing yourself to people without scars, he'd immediately interrupt before those thoughts could grow any louder, refusing to let you speak about yourself so harshly.
he never acted like your scars were something magical or beautiful just to make you smile, because he knew that wasn't what you needed. instead, he treated them with complete normalcy, the same way he treated every other part of you, showing through his actions that they had never once affected how much he cared.
little by little, his effortless acceptance began rubbing off on you, and without even realizing it, you stopped reaching to hide your thighs every single time he walked into the room.
around lorenzo, there was never any pressure to be perfect, because he understood better than anyone that people weren't meant to be loved only after all their wounds had disappeared.
You have a distinct memory from when you were kids, where everyone else was being ‘normal’ and laughing and playing, and then from the corner of your eye, you spot a lonely looking boy staring blankly at a book.
Initially, you wondered if he was even alive. I mean, he was just… staring, unblinking, looking as though he weren’t even breathing, before he confirmed his existence by suddenly flipping the page.
Intrigued, you went up to him.
Complete opposites, the two of you were. You were always surrounded by a crowd of people whilst Hugo often kept to himself. Your pity is unwarranted however, this was not the cruel bullying of the others that you believed it to be—really he does it to himself—since he’s always eager to tell anyone what they’re doing is incorrect and not following their own aptitudes. He can never just let people be. Obviously they wouldn’t like someone like that.
The exception being you, of course.
A bit of an airhead by nature, you’re mostly oblivious to his actions. You don’t even notice when he starts taking over your time with the other kids, because, well, that’s just poor Hugo being in need of a friend.
It certainly doesn’t help that he’s got this constant wide-eyed, deer in headlights look about him. You just can’t believe anyone that comes crying to you about his behaviour. It’s probably just their fault anyway.
Or at least, that’s what Hugo tells you.
You can’t really say otherwise when he’s tugging at your sleeve, all cute and doe-like.
He really does take advantage of your sympathy, always asking for your attention to make him feel better. He deserves lots of hugs and kisses as reparations for other people being mean to him, so get over here!
Eventually, nobody wants anything to do with either of you—just how Hugo wants it.
Nevertheless, it’s inevitable with your kind personality that more pests would come his way, unfortunate but he supposes the thing he loves about you would also be loved by others.
Now older and a lot broader than he used to be, he’s always hanging around you like a second shadow to ward off anyone getting too close (although it isn’t nearly as sweet as when he was younger and smaller than you. It’s a bit offputting). He does these things because he cares, because everyone else only wants awful, superficial things from you! But not Hugo. Never Hugo. He sees you for what you truly are.
You’ve become so close over these years, that you barely even notice the sudden shift in his demeanour.
Has he always been this mean to you? Calling you stupid whenever you try to leave him and being led astray by people? You shake it off, you have to, because it just hurts too much to lose the boy you’ve been friends with all your life.
Every time another cheating partner comes to light, or fake friend gets exposed and you run crying to Hugo for comfort, you fail to notice the satisfaction lying in his eyes.
The walking epitome of “told you so,” he told you, and you didn’t listen. See what happens when you don’t listen to Hugo? That’s why you should just stop thinking for yourself altogether and let him lead the way! He’s the only one who’ll treat you right.
Well, the multiple assortments of your belongings residing in his house speak a different story, but if nobody knows about it then it’s fine. You don’t even notice these things are important to you until they’re gone, so really he’s teaching you to be more careful with your things… and totally not just satisfying the creep inside of him wanting to own everything of yours.
It all comes to a head where somehow, some way, you’ve managed to get the silly idea of trying to pursue someone else, leaving Hugo behind in the process.
What an idiotic, contrived thing you’ve come up with. That’s all he can think when you’re speaking to him about it.
“I’m sorry, I am. It’s just, I think I want to focus on spending time with other people. I know I always have some trouble with partners but I swear this one is different. They really understand me!”
You laugh awkwardly, trying to pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”
“I will.”
“Eh?”
Hugo steps closer towards you and in response, you start to back away, all of a sudden becoming so aware of the strength difference between you two. You call out his name multiple times, to no avail.
“Hugo, you’re scaring me. Please…” you mumble, when you feel your back hit the wall.
He’s staring at you now. “Have I not made myself clear over the years we’ve known each other? I told you, other people don’t understand you, and never will. Not like I do. The way you’re acting right now is purely illogical.”
You don’t know how to get the words out of your mouth, what emotion you’re even meant to feel, until finally settling on anger. You’re too tired to care at this point, damn the consequences.
“I’ve been putting up with you for the longest time now, but I swear, that will end today if you don’t stop. Honestly you do this everytime—!?”
Ah, you’re rambling on again about every little thing he’s done against you. You’d probably be even more upset if you actually knew how much he was involved in those past things. Like how he followed you home for years in school, forged incriminating looking photos of anyone you’ve ever come into contact with, told everyone to stay away from you unless they wanted something horrible to happen to their families. It was all for your sake.
Still, Hugo feels a mild sadness in his heart. His poor darling, too, is still being affected by the meaningless pursuit of goals that don’t match your fate.
He’s going to have to change that.
His final act of devotion to you is suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you. Hugo’s dreamt about this so many times, but never daring to do it to avoid you running away, waiting for the perfect moment, like this one! You’re in his house, all alone.
And oh god, it’s so much better than anything his feeble imagination could’ve come up with. It feels right to be against each other like this, can’t you feel it too?
Sure, maybe in his mind there was a lot less writhing and kicking from you, but he can adapt, he’ll just hold your wrists above your head to keep you in place.
When you finally give up fighting back, he then lets go, a thin line of saliva connecting you two once again. It’s like you never left him.
“You won’t be so brainless as to leave again this time, right?”
You can’t give him much of a response on account of the crying.
Just like when you were younger, Hugo entwines his hand in yours, holding you close to his chest, shushing you. There, there, it’ll be okay, now that he’s with you.
You think you remember a time in your life where you desperately tried to get him to smile, you imagined that it would look nice on his face and told him as much. Certainly a good change from his usual stoicism. But now that he’s giving you one, you’re less ecstatic than your younger self thought you would be.
“We’re going to be together forever. It’s your destiny.” Smiling softly, he wraps his arms around your waist.
You get the feeling you should’ve never befriended Vivian Hugo.
"just look at me properly. you need to- don't look at me like that," he grumbles, noticing the pleading look your giving him.
why would he assume you were keen on listening to him lecture you?
"you're being so overprotective, stop acting like we're dating!"
"we don't have to be dating for me to look out for you, you idiot."
"don't call me an idiot."
"you certainly are one if you really haven't been able to understand how i-"
hugo makes his presence known, sounding a noise of mild amusement while leaning against the doorframe, head tilted to the side, a lazy smirk crossing his lips at the sight.
"look what we have here."
annoyance flared through you as rin shut himself up. he'd released his grip on your wrists to turn to hugo, leaving them limp and useless at your sides in this situation.
you were now unable to hear his finished sentence and also forced to stop the brawl they were about to break out into.
"how fucking long have you been there?" rin near growls, storming closer to him.
"woah, calm down, what's got you so riled up?" he asks, as if he hasn't been playing tricks with us for the past month.
before rin can argue further, hugo cuts him off, shaking his head as he tuts softly.
he stares between you and rin, then rethinks his course of action.
he'd seen every interaction the both of you had. that time you were with rin in the car, whenever you'd walk alone with him; all those moment had one thing in common.
rin stared at you like you were the center of his earth. as if no other view was worthy of his gaze. he just couldn't get his eyes off of you.
hugo understood the endearment he held towards you better than anyone, but it made him furious. now, he'd use that against the dark green haired boy.
"you've always liked her, haven't you?"
rin's heart drops nearly to his ass upon hearing that, knowing exactly what hugo was implying.
rin was well aware of how much hugo knew, how easily he could gain information on the people around him.
"what're you talking about?" he desperately tried to protect the image you had of him, but there was only so much he could do.
"you know exactly what i'm talking about."
you look so adorably puzzled and it only serves to make the sly grin on hugo's face grow wider.
"go on, tell your sweet best friend how much you truly like her."
"don't wanna tell her?" he muses, feigning pity, gaining enjoyment from how pissed off rin looked.
"not even how you've fucked your fist to the thought of her?"
a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger n for making rin a freak too..... hes just not as bad as hugo 🥹.. i think next chapter will be the last, i'll have split endings, one for if you take hugo's side and one for if you take rin's !!
rin strode down the stairs as fast as he could, scoffing under his breath at the absurdity of it all.
there was no chance you were being serious. standing beside the very man you'd lost sleep to?
back up in the room, you were still stood conflicted between your remaining friends and hugo.
you'd eventually decided on chasing after rin, isagi gesturing toward the door sealing your decision.
you brush past hugo before he can realize, shutting the door behind you with haste, making your way down the steps, contemplating kicking off your shoes due to how annoying they were.
you make it down, groaning at the bustle of the party not having died down one bit.
if anything, it'd gotten worse with people sprawled on the ground, passed out.
gosh, did nobody else care?
you carefully tip-toe around said bodies and swerve through crowds in a desperate attempt to find rin.
for a second, you considered giving up on searching for him, catching your breath in a random corner.
it'd been around 10 minutes with no sign of him, so you decided to resort to messaging him.
rin had tried to ignore you, but your lack of social awareness would be the death of him.
there was a very drunk man behind you, most likely about to try hit on you.
he wasn't about to let that happen.
before you can pester him further, tapping away furiously on your screen, you feel a gust of wind behind you, instantly turning in confusion.
your eyes blow wide, seeing rin shoving a random guy away from you, the irritated glint in his narrowed eyes a warning.
"god, y/n, watch what's happening around you," he murmurs gruffly, seperating you and the man with his large frame.
"huh? who was that?" you question, leaning over to try catch a glimpse of the man retreating out of your line of sight. wait, was rin watching you this whole time?
he tilts your chin back toward him, an amused look on his face. "don't concern yourself with it."
"well, what are you trying to act so nonchalant for!" you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.
rin tended to act like you were a child who needed protecting, even though he acts like he despises you straight to your face.
you hated it!
"i'm trying to protect you, y/n. don't act like that."
"protect me from what? i can handle myself!"
"clearly not?" he reminds, referring to the whole hugo situation.
"i'm not a toddler." your voice drops a tone, feeling as though he was underestimating how independant you can be.
"you act like it."
you were about to throw another retort at him, but end up being cut off by him.
"look, im not trying to argue with you," he huffs, sounding exasperated.
"then what are you trying to-"
he shushes you, pulling you to a more secluded area.
"you're so painfully oblivious."
"to what?"
he grabs your wrists, holding them firmly at either side of your shoulders. "to everything! if i took advantage of you right now, would you be able to do anything about it?"
your heart drops slightly at the realization, but you can't control the way your stomach's doing flips, unable to tear your gaze off of him.
did rin look this good this whole time?
"c'mon, answer me-"
"i-it's you, it's different," you mutter, cheeks dusting a light shade of pink.
his grip falters ever so slightly at that, fully comprehending how close together your bodies are now.
"t-that's- not what i'm.." he trails off, a soft noise of infuriation falling from him.
꒰ summary ꒱; hugo walks back into the room and immediately realizes the reasoning behind the silence between everyone.
꒰ content ꒱; mentions of violence and stalking, hugo is weird and possessive, rin gets mad at you :(
clue 9; stuck in the middle ✴︎
a deafening silence fell over the room, all of you exchanging glances of pure shock or horror.
before a word could be said, the door clicks open, the familiar crimson hair visible upon entry.
as soon as he'd noticed the tension in the air and his phone face-up on the armrest of the couch, he was well aware of what'd possibly happened.
"so," he trails off, hands shoved deep into his pockets, large frame towering over yours.
"i suppose all of you know by now?" he questions, irritation apparent in his tone.
"get away from her, hugo," isagi demands sternly, clearly against every move he'd made on you up until now.
"or what?" he replies, a condescending lilt in his voice.
"don't," rin threatened, deciding to oppose him too.
"you're acting like any of you can stop me."
"you're acting like we'd just let you do whatever bullshit it is you're trying to pull," chigiri added.
"oh but you will."
the worst part is how unnervingly calm he sounds throughout the exchange.
"that's bold of you to assume," rin shoots back, narrowing his eyes, pure irritation laced in his expression.
"she's my destiny and it'll stay that way."
"h-hugo, why didn't you just talk to me-" he turns his head to observe you, his gaze meeting your frantic one.
"shh, there's nothing you have to worry about, y/n," he reassures, letting a faint smile graze his lips at the sight of you so conflicted.
"there's a lot i have to worry about?"
before he could hush you further, rin lunged forward, pinning hugo against the nearest wall, pulling a surprised gasp from you.
"you're such a creep," rin hissed, attempting to keep control over hugo's movements.
"y/n, move!" rin urged, attempting to keep you safe.
hugo forced his way out of rin's grasp eventually, landing a harsh strike on his cheek.
rin looked between you and hugo as he stumbled backwards, steadying his balance.
he ran his thumb over the spot he'd been struck, wincing at the stinging sensation, knowing it'd bruise by tomorrow.
"i don't know, rin. seems like your little friend doesn't want to listen," hugo mused, a sly grin stirring his lips.
you were at a loss for words, eyes darting between your newfound stalker and your friends in the very same room, the suspense draping over the room like thick fog.
you weren't sure if it was the sheer shock or the curiosity to be next to hugo and get to hear what he has to say next planting you in place.
your brain was muddled with all kinds of thoughts and possibilities, and having rin scrutinize the very way you stood sent a chill down your spine.
"are you serious, y/n?" he scoffed, the idea that you were willingly keeping yourself stuck there now festering in his head.
and to add onto how ungrateful you were being in his eyes, he'd just gotten hurt trying to help you out, yet you still didn't budge?
isagi sensed the agitation between the both of you, stepping forward to try calm things down. "rin, i'm sure it isn't like that, don't jump to conclu-"
he'd cut isagi off, forcing his way past him toward the door.
"you complained about him, yet now you're standing by his side?" rin chuckled bitterly.
"n-no? that isn't what i'm-" "save it," he urged, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud.
you couldn't stand the guilt weighing on you when you'd rethought the entire scenario. he'd just tried to help you and you'd wasted his effort because you were too afraid to move?
and now, you were placed in an even worse position.
it was barely midday as you felt the full emotional weight of rins rejection. you had rehearsed this thousands of times in the mirror.
but rin barely glanced at your face, his voice dismissive, “im not interested.”
the words made you sick. around you, the courtyard was preparing for the spring festival, where rin was going to go with you. all you could see was rin turning away.
how could he. brush you off like you were nothing. like you were a random girl he could just throw away.
you had spent weeks building up courage, even using your most expensive perfume, and he had crushed your dreams with a careless sentence.
you turn around and speed walk away, keeping your head to the ground, fists clenched so tight that your nails made crescents in your palm.
the rest of the school day was a blur. you couldn’t think of anything but rin rejecting you.
you imagined him crawling to you, begging for forgiveness. you imagined him realizing what he had lost.
though, he probably wouldn’t even remember you by tomorrow.
you left the school, walking home alone. you decided to stop at a convenience store for some snacks to ease your heartache.
near the back, there was a small box with a red graphic.
the box read one wish willow.
you shove it in your pocket, you weren’t going to spend 6.99 on something probably fake.
you hand to the cashier with 2 points of ice cream and a dr pepper. they wished you a wonderful afternoon as you leave to head home.
you ripped the package open, the branch felt warm in your palm, almost alive.
you found a bench under a street light, you held the willow branch in both hands, closed your eyes.
“i wish itoshi rin would love me more than anyone in the fucking world. more than his stupid friends, more than his family, more than himself. i want him to think about me until he can’t breathe.”
the branch cracked in half in your hands.
you opened your eyes, half-expecting to see something miraculous, but everything was quiet.
“just as i thought, shits a scam.”
you stood up, continuing your walk home.
rin was in his room half-asleep, watching the shining in his dark room. the day had been uneventful. school, soccer practice, dinner, homework.
he already forgotten about the girl who asked him out. she was just another face in his life.
he laid covered in his comforter. and then, without any conscious thought, he found himself opening his yearbook.
he didn’t know why, he hadn’t touched the thing since the day it was handed out. but he sat back on his soft mattress with the book in his lap.
his fingers flipped through the pages, until he reached her class.
her face stared at him, her eyes were beautiful, her lips were parted as she smiled.
rin never realized how beautiful she was.
he stared at the photo, and stared, and stared.
he couldn’t look away, every time rin tried to blink, his eyes snapped back to the picture of you. the clock one the wall ticked, from 11:05, to 11:32, to 12:52.
all that existed was her face.
his hands reached out and traced her cheek, he whispered her name to himself. he didn’t understand why is his heart was racing, why is hands were all sweaty.
he has never felt this way about anyone.
he needed to see her again, to hear her voice, to smell her… to feel her skin against his.
a tear slipped from his eye. he didn’t understand why he was crying. this isn’t rin.
he knows this is unnatural. that part of him remembered the look in yns eyes when he had dismissed her.
but the other part of him overwhelmed him with devotion.
he gagged, bending over the edge of his bed and vomited, stomach acid and half-digested food hit his wood floor.
he retched again, and again. his body shook like he was trying to purge the unnatural part of him.
he stared at the mess on the floor, at the yearbook still in his lap.
what the fuck is happening to me.
he tried to stand, but his body wouldnt obey. instead, his hands reached for the year book again.
he pulled out his laptop, opening to the school website, finding all her disgusting teachers.
it was after midnight by now. rin smiled, “ynn..” he whispered. this time with a sigh of devotion, “im coming for you tomorrow, my love..”
the next morning, you got ready in the dawn sunlight coming from the window. you had gotten up earlier than usual as you couldn’t sleep, due to the emotional heart break you had gone through the previous day.
as you stepped outside, you spot a teal head peeking over the fence. rin, you would recognize him from anywhere.
you shut the door behind you, slowly walking over to him.
“um.. rin? what are you doing.” you ask. “waiting for you, obviously” he said with a slight smile.
you stare at him with a look of pure confusion, the guy that rejected you, is now at your femce, waiting for you?
you start your walk to school, hoping this was just some twisted prank he’s pulling on you.
though, he follows you, never more then an arms reach away.
“rin—“
“yes?” he interrupts.
“how long have you’ve been waiting here?” you ask, you notice that he has very obvious dark circles under his eyes.
“around 4, why?? do you want me to arrive earlier, yn?” he replied.
“n-no, just, rin, are you ok?”
“why wouldn’t i be.” he said, staring you dead in the eyes.
“if this is about yesterday, i’m so sorry, yn. i was an idiot, god. but i see you clearly now.” he grabs your hand and attempts to interlock fingers with you.
you pull away quickly, “rin, stop.. you’re freaking me out.”
“please don’t pull away from me.” he said, his voice cracking. “i can’t stand when you pull away.. i’ve been thinking about you all night. i couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. i just kept looking at your photos all night, i wanted to die because i couldn’t touch you.”
“you’re sick.” you blurted out. “you need to see a nurse or something, im sorry.”
rins smile faded and was replaced by confusion. “im fine.” he said to you softly, “im better than fine, thats because im with you now, thats all i need.”
the morning bell rang, students walked passed them noisily.
you took this as an opportunity to flee from him, speed walking to school without looking back. he doesnt let you, though. he follows you the entire way.
you enter your homeroom, feeling someone behind you the entire time. you finally gain the courage to turn around and confront him. “rin, you dont even have first period with me!”
“i do, i transferred. anyone would if they were in my shoes” he said with no change in emotion.
“just stop following me!” you yell at him, silencing the few other conversations around you.
“okay.”
you sat in class as he stared at you.
the wish actually worked?
but it wasn’t the “love” i imagined
maybe just a little bit of begging
this is weird.. how do i get him to stop
at the end of the period, you gathered your books and blended in with the crowd, heading to the library. no matter what. it was impossible to lose him, it was like he had eyes just for you!
he came to your study table, shooing away one of your friends. he had a black coffee in his hands. “i didnt know how you like it,” he said, shoving it into your hands. “so i got black, i can add sugar if you want, or cream. whatever you like. just tell me, yn. tell me everything you like, i want to know everything about you.”
you stared at the cup, seeing your reflection in the coffee. “rin, this is insane. you dont even know me, literally yesterday you said you weren’t interested.”
“i was wrong” he said to you. “i was so wrong, and ill spend the rest of my life making it up to you. please, yn. let me make it up to you.”
his eyes were wet with tears. a part of you, the part crushed by his rejection, was thrilled by the sight. but the other part was disgusted.
what have you done.
“i have to go to class.” you said, standing up from the seat. “dont follow me.”
you walked away with your heart pounding in fear.
but obviously, you heard his footsteps behind you. you ducked into the girls rest room.
he waited outside, leaning against the wall. you could see his shadow against the wall.
“rin.” you yelled, your voice filled with frustration. “go to your own classes! leave me alone. please!”
“im in all the same classes as you, ive told you this. ive switched my schedule so were together all day now.”
the wish really doesn’t do half measures, huh.
you still stayed in the bathroom, attempting to skip to the next period. but rin grew increasingly worried after the warning bell rang. “yn, come out please.” he pleads.
you hide in the stall, putting your bag and feet up, invisible to the outside. you hear footsteps entering and put your hands over your mouth to cover your panicked breath.
“yn, you’re scaring me. where are you.” he says as he kicks on the stall next to you. you let a small peep out at the loud bang that drew his attention.
“ynnn..” he stared at you through the crack, “please come out, i don’t want to break the door down.”
you slowly unlock the door, your hands shaking. the second you step outside, rin grabs you by the hand, pulling you out.
you jerked away, but he didn’t take any offense. he smiled and said, “ill walk you to biology!”
in the classroom, you sat at your usual desk. while rin sat at the desk next to you, a desk that belonged to someone else.
eventually, a red head came up to him, “hey, you’re in my seat.”
rin didn’t even look at him, his sight was fixed on you, the way your hair blew in the wind, the way your neck curved to slow your pulse.
“find another one.” he said.
the red head blinked, “what? no, i always sit there.”
rin turned his head slowly, “i said. find another one.” rin repeated.
the redhead was visibly nervous at this point, instead of futilely arguing, he just shuffled to the empty seat the back.
you started to feel sick again.
later, at lunch, you sat with your friends, he forcefully squeezed inbetween the girl next to you, making everyone uncomfortable.
“so, uhm, rin,” your friend started. “when did you and yn get so close?..”
he ignored her question, his eyes never left you.
“baby, you’re not eating? are you not hungry? you can eat my lunch, please eat it” he pushes his lunch to you.
“just sit down, rin. and stop acting like this infront of my friends.” you whisper.
“acting like what?” he looked confused. “like someone who loves you more than anyone in the whole world?”
no one spoke as you looked away embarrassed.
“so.. uhh. did you guys like hook up?” your friend asks.
“no.” you snapped. “hes just.. acting weird..”
rin didn’t deny it, he laced his fingers with yours under the table. his thumb stroking your knuckles.
“im not leaving you.” he murmured. “not ever, i promise. i dont care what these pigs think.”
im sorry this is so buns.. i proof read it but it didnt save the first time so i hate tumlbr
@reverd-ck i forgot i need to read the thing u wrote
꒰ summary ꒱; you find out who mystery man is by complete accident !
꒰ content ꒱; slight crack
clue 8; not so secret any longer ✴︎
you'd managed holding your pee for record timing, but you couldn't take it anymore. you get lucky, warmly greeted by the sight of an empty toilet and the golden opportunity to piss right before your eyes.
after relieving yourself, you stagger into the room, whining endlessly about how bad your feet hurt due to your regrettable choice of footwear.
"y/n, you finally made it!"
"gosh, you were taking forever."
you apologize, then sink into the cushion beside them on the couch, shoulders slumping as you breathe a heavy huff of relief, thankful to not be stuck between 4 men anymore. (to be fair, you were now between 5, but it was different.)
"you guys done with card games now? bummer, i wanted to play," you giggle, ignoring the dirty look rin shoots your way.
"well, to be fair, you took incredibly long," chigiri reminds, cocking an eyebrow upward.
"soo, what happened?" bachira doesn't miss the first chance to ask, buzzing with excitement.
"basically, hugo and kaiser were in a fight," you start, stifling a chuckle at the group's reactions.
bachira looked bewildered, chigiri looked like he knew it would've happened eventually, rin seemed unbothered (as always), kunigami looked intrigued and isagi seemed pissed at the mention of the blonde.
".. then, i had to step in and stop them, because i swear, kaiser looked like he'd been knocked braindead by that point-" isagi cuts you off, completely straight-faced. "he always looks braindead."
"dude, okay, you just hate him!"
"doesn't change the fact that he's stupid."
"alright, let me continue. after that, bunny appears out of nowhere, then reminds hugo and kaiser to stop-"
before you can continue talking everyone's ears off, your attention is pulled elsewhere, down to the phone settled atop the arm rest vibrating with notifications.
but you don't recognize the device, and the wallpaper isn't familiar either.
"wait, who's phone even is this," you cut yourself off momentarily, reading the message, shock planting you in place.
it wasn't your intention to invade anyone's privacy, however, seeing your name in the middle of the message piqued your interest, and curiosity always got the better of you.
"oh, pfft, that's just hugo's phone. he asked if i could keep it safe, and-" isagi notices the colour practically draining from your face, leaving your complexion strangely pale.
concern washes over him instantly, aware it wasn't normal for you to act in such a way.
the last time he'd seen you like this was when you were on the topic of mystery man.
"why, is something wrong..?"
was something wrong? worse, terrible, things were terribly wrong.
you feel fear course through your veins, hands trembling around the phone now positioned between your fingers, rereading the message over and over, confirming it wasn't simply a sick trick your mind was playing on you.
your brain ached, yet your eyes stayed glued to the not so vibrant screen.
he was hiding in plain sight, no — he'd barely hid from you and that somehow happened to be the worst part.
"hey, so, theoratically, if bachira was right about hugo being mystery man, what happens then?"
the room falls silent, silent enough to hear a pin drop. you don't receive a verbal response, all you get in return are pairs of eyes fixed on you, equally as stunned as your own.
a/n: im sorryy if it wasn't who you expected or hoped for, i just decided to stick with who i originally planned for it to be since i found it the most fitting !
this fanart is also what gave me the idea for the series!
꒰ summary ꒱; you step in and stop the fight like a legend and shit goes doowwnn after that
꒰ summary ꒱; crack, mentions of violence
clue 7; hottest mediator alive ✴︎
you're baffled at how unfazed the strangers surrounding you were — there's no way the situation wasn't worrisome to anyone else?
you could've sworn kaiser's nose looked slightly crooked by now, plus, hugo's knuckles were practically spewing blood.
"don't you think this is going a little far?" you ask the person beside you whose nose still stuck in their phone, recording.
"uh- i don't even know these people, the fight's just interesting," he murmurs, not bothering to even glance your way.
you sigh, then wince, watching the injuries on each of them worsen each time a hit is thrown.
eventually, you find the courage to step in.
"kaiser, hugo, what the fuck are you guys doing?" you half-yell, forcing your way between them.
they both turn, confusion written all over their features when they realize it's you who'd put a pause on their fight.
"y/n?" hugo voices, bewildered.
"what're you even out here for?" kaiser grumbles, telltale irritation showing at the interruption.
"i could ask you the same thing," you shoot back, your eyes narrowed skeptically.
"what, you ms good-two-shoes now?" he scoffs, sizing you up too.
"no- kaiser, you're literally bleeding everywhere!" you remind, grimacing as he wipes the blood off his nose, crimson staining his pale fingers.
"so?-" he pauses, taken aback when you step forward to lightly dab at the wound with a piece of tissue from god knows where.
he swallows, hard, wondering why the hell you're tending to his wound and on top of that, so painfully close.
hugo steps forward, shoving kaiser aside, towering over you.
"y/n, clean me up too." he sounds so stern, and that's the funniest part.
"y-yeah, sure," you mutter, wondering how it'd gone from a physical fight to verbally fighting over who gets their wounds wiped.
the crowd had long dispersed by now, leaving the three of you in awkward silence.
before anything else can happen, the sliding door whooshes open, a voice booming from inside.
it was bunny, scrutinizing all 3 of you with an expression full of dissapointment.
"didn't i specifically tell the both of y-"
"kaiser, are you okay?" a frantic voice cuts him off from behind, pushing past bunny to attend to him.
"ugh, ness, i'm fine-" he groans, well aware ness was about to smother him with questions.
you turn your attention back over to bunny, who's still visibly ready to snap again.
he takes a few long strides over in order to stand toe-to-toe with hugo.
"you guys really need to take your fights elsewhere," he warns, poking an accusing finger against hugo's beefy chest.
you noticed his gaze occasionally drifting over to you, your stance growing stiffer than ever.
you rub your neck ineptly, unkeen on admitting to playing a part in the situation.
"i'm.. gonna go, catch you guys later," you blurt out, scrambling back inside the second you catch an opportunity, your heels nerfing your ability to get away quicker.
being in such close proximity of 4 large, pissed off men was the definition of terrifying.
come to think of it, you hadn't heard from mystery man the entire time you'd been with-
ding
the notification cuts through your train of thought, drawing your attention to your phone.
the clip starts with japan winning. everyone's screaming, confetti cannons are going off, commentators are losing their minds, and somehow the most viral moment of the night isn't the winning goal.
no. it's isagi grabbing your hands and pulling you onto the grass.
"yoichi, there are cameras."
"i know."
"yoichi."
"just one dance!”
and then he's spinning you around like you're in some cheesy romance movie instead of the middle of a packed stadium.
the dance itself isn't even good. that's what makes it worse.
he almost trips over his own cleats. you nearly step on his foot. neither of you know what you're doing.
but he's genuinely laughing. grabbing your hands, mirroring your moves, just being an absolute goofball.
and the internet collectively explodes because when was the last time anyone saw isagi yoichi looking that carefree?
the edits are everywhere.
"he won the match, but look at the way he looks at HER."
"bro dances like a divorced father, but this is cute."
"if they break up i'm suing."
people start calling it "the victory dance."
every time isagi wins after that, cameras immediately pan toward you because they're waiting to see if he'll do it again.
and guess what? he does. every single time.
itoshi rin
rin has never willingly participated in fan service a day in his life. which is exactly why the photo becomes a historical event.
you post a mirror selfie. both of you are flipping off the camera. rin's standing beside you looking unusually relaxed.
and then people notice your nails.
your right middle finger has a tiny painted 1. your left middle finger has a tiny painted 0.
10. his jersey number.
the internet loses consciousness.
because hold on. you spent actual money (rin’s money) getting a customized manicure dedicated to this emotionally constipated man?
and somehow the bigger shock is rin. he's smiling. SMILING.
the comments immediately become:
"HE LOOKS SO PROUD." "THAT'S THE HAPPIEST I'VE EVER SEEN HIM." "she painted his jersey number on her nails and bro folded instantly."
there are entire threads analyzing the picture, zooming into rin's face, circling the smile, writing essays in the comments.
apparently, getting his jersey number painted on your nails is the equivalent of proposing marriage to itoshi rin.
they’re right tho. expect that ring sooner than you think, baby girl.
itoshi sae
sae accidentally creates 6 months worth of shipping content with one interview.
a reporter asks him why he chose his current jersey number. it’s a simple question that expects an easy answer.
except sae says: "it's my favorite date."
the interviewer laughs. "what happened on that date?"
and sae, completely unaware of the nuclear bomb he's about to drop, responds: "my girlfriend was born."
oh wow.
then chaos.
because excuse me? YOUR BIRTHDAY? HE PICKED HIS JERSEY NUMBER BASED ON YOUR BIRTHDAY?
the clip gets 50 million views it’s INSANE.
everyone starts posting:
"he carries her birthday on his back every game." "that's the most romantic thing i've ever heard." "sae itoshi when emotional vulnerability enters the room omg."
the funniest part is that sae genuinely doesn't understand why everyone's freaking out. he thought it was normal.
why wouldn't he choose something important to him?
all the while the internet is planning your wedding.
nagi seishiro
at first, nobody notices. then somebody makes a compilation. suddenly, it's over for both of you.
every paparazzi picture. every stadium photo. every post-match photo. every candid. nagi is looking at you. every single one.
you're talking to someone else? he's looking at you.
you're taking photos with fans? he's looking at you.
you're staring at the field? he's staring at you staring at the field.
people start making side-by-side collages. hundreds of photos. same result.
nagi's eyes are always on you.
there's one particularly devastating picture where you're watching fireworks after a championship win. everyone else is looking at the sky. nagi is looking at you.
the photo goes triple platinum.
comments read:
"bro found a prettier view." "he's literally doing the boyfriend stare." "nagi looks at her like she's the loading screen before his favorite game."
even sports photographers start joking about it.
they keep trying to get action shots of nagi and somehow end up capturing him staring at you instead.
mikage reo
reo accidentally exposes himself during an interview. and it's entirely his own fault.
the interviewer asks about motivation. mindset. success. all that serious athlete stuff.
reo answers confidently. then he casually says: "well, i always think that success is nice, but it's meaningless if you don't have someone to share it with."
the interviewer pauses. fans pause. because that sentence sounds familiar. very familiar.
someone immediately digs up an old interview you did months ago. and there it is. word for word. exactly the same.
"success is nice, but it's meaningless if you don't have someone to share it with."
same wording. same phrasing. same everything.
reo literally quoted you like a man who had memorized the line.
the internet catches it within minutes. and they're merciless.
"HE STOLE HER HOMEWORK."
"BRO CITED HIS SOURCE INCORRECTLY."
"reo mikage accidentally reveals he hangs onto every word she says."
"that's not your opinion king, that's HER opinion."
reo tries denying it, tries claiming it's a coincidence.
nobody believes him.
especially when another compilation drops showing him accidentally repeating things you've said on 3 separate occasions.
at that point, the internet's conclusion is unanimous: reo mikage is down horrendous and apparently has your dialogue saved in his brain's permanent storage.
bachira meguru
bachira accidentally creates one of the internet's favorite relationship moments because of a post-match interview.
he's sweaty, exhausted, still running on adrenaline from the game. the reporter is asking random questions to fill airtime. favorite goal? favorite stadium? favorite celebration? normal stuff.
then they ask: "what's your favorite sound?" expecting to hear something like “the cheers from the crowd,” etc.
bachira doesn't even hesitate. "her laugh."
the reporter blinks. "sorry?"
"my girlfriend's laugh."
the clip should've ended there. it would've already been viral. except bachira keeps talking, completely unaware of the damage he's causing.
"it's different every time, y'know? sometimes she snorts when something's really funny. sometimes she laughs so hard she can't breathe. sometimes she starts laughing before she can even tell the joke. it rotates between bronchitis, an asthma attack, a windex spray bottle–"
the interviewer is staring. the cameraman is staring. everyone watching this is staring. why does this man have categories? why has he studied your laugh enough to recognize different versions of it?
fans immediately start posting:
"he knows her laugh lore." "bro has laugh DLC unlocked." "that's actually the most in-love thing i've ever heard."
then somebody uploads a compilation of your public appearances. and somehow bachira is right. there are different laughs. he can apparently identify all of them.
the internet decides that's either incredibly romantic or completely insane. nobody can agree which.
shidou ryusei
shidou's scandal starts because he gets caught celebrating with the wrong person.
after scoring a goal, players are supposed to celebrate with teammates. that's the whole point.
instead, shidou immediately runs toward the stands. toward you.
the cameras follow him because they assume he's hyping up the crowd. he's not.
rather, he points directly at you. you point back. and the two of you somehow perform a completely choreographed celebration. perfect timing and synchronization, emphasizing you two clearly practiced beforehand.
the stadium goes silent for half a second. then absolutely erupts. what do you mean you two rehearsed a goal celebration? how many times did you practice that? where? when?? why???
the clip gets 10 million views overnight.
people start noticing it isn't even the first time. there’s been different matches, countries, celebrations, all coordinated and all involving you somehow.
one week, it's matching hand signs.
another week, it's a ridiculous dance.
another week, it's a heart shape that shidou insists is "totally not romantic." nobody believes him.
fans become convinced the two of you are secretly spending your free time inventing increasingly ridiculous celebrations together.
which, fortunately for shidou, is completely true.
karasu tabito
karasu's downfall begins with a microphone accidentally picking him up.
he thinks nobody can hear him. that's the problem.
before a match, cameras are filming warmups. you happen to walk by the sidelines. karasu notices.
and without even thinking about it, mutters: "damn, she's cute."
the microphone catches everything. everything.
the broadcast doesn't notice until later. but fans do. immediately.
cuz hold on. the same karasu who spends 90% of his life roasting people? the same man who acts allergic to sincerity? that karasu?
there are edits. slow motion replays. subtitles. someone adds the cutest songs over it.
another person writes: "bro forgot his internal monologue was supposed to stay internal."
karasu spends weeks getting bullied by teammates.
you spend weeks laughing at him.
the internet decides that catching a man complimenting his girlfriend when he thinks nobody is listening is infinitely more romantic than any public declaration.
kaiser michael
kaiser's is devastating because it's entirely silent.
during a championship celebration, players are spraying champagne everywhere. everyone's running around screaming and celebrating. the photographers are taking hundreds of pictures.
one photo goes viral. then another. then another. then another.
because in every single image, kaiser is subconsciously making sure you're okay.
a hand on your shoulder while people push past.
guiding you away from flying corks.
moving a champagne bottle before it sprays directly into your face.
offering you his jacket when it gets cold.
small things. tiny gestures. nobody would notice them individually.
until someone stitches them together.
suddenly, the internet realizes that while everyone else is celebrating the championship, kaiser is monitoring you like you're the most important thing in the stadium.
the comments are in shambles.
"that's not a boyfriend. that's a bodyguard."
"he's tracking her location like a GPS."
"kaiser can locate her in a crowd faster than he can locate the goal."
and because kaiser hates giving people answers, he refuses to explain any of it. which only makes the shipping even worse.
ness alexis
ness accidentally exposes himself every single time you appear in public together.
he doesn’t exactly say anything. rather, it’s his face.
there's an entire fan account dedicated solely to tracking "the ness expression."
you know the one. the look he gets whenever you do literally anything.
talking? ness expression.
laughing? ness expression.
existing? ness expression.
someone makes a compilation video. it's 5 minutes long.
the title is: "alexis ness looking at his girlfriend like she invented happiness."
the worst clip happens during a red carpet event. you're answering a reporter's question. the camera accidentally cuts to ness. who is not listening to the interview at all.
he's just staring. completely mesmerized. smiling to himself. looking like he forgot there are other people in the room.
when the clip goes viral, fans start comparing him to those disney princes who see the princess for the first time and immediately lose all cognitive function.
ness tries defending himself: "that's not what i look like!”
then someone posts another 20 examples.
the case is closed.
the internet's final verdict? alexis ness has never once beaten the allegations in his entire life.
chigiri hyoma
chigiri accidentally becomes the internet's favorite boyfriend because of one very unfortunate paparazzi trend.
it starts when fans notice something weird: whenever photos of the two of you get taken in public, chigiri is always carrying your stuff. always.
your purse? on his shoulder.
shopping bags? in his hands.
your jacket because you got too warm? folded neatly over his arm.
your drink? he's holding it.
your phone? somehow also in his possession.
at first, people think it's a coincidence. then more photos appear. and more. and more. different days. different outfits. same result. you are walking around completely empty-handed while chigiri resembles a traveling pack mule.
someone finally makes a compilation. 57 freaking photos. every single one shows him carrying at least one of your belongings.
the internet is hysterical.
"girl's inventory is stored entirely in chigiri hyoma."
"he's not her boyfriend. he's her backpack."
"why is she walking around like a disney princess while this man is carrying three bags and a cute beverage?"
it gets even funnier when fans realize chigiri never looks annoyed ever. in fact, he usually looks completely relaxed. sometimes he's even talking while carrying everything, as if this arrangement was established years ago.
a reporter eventually asks him about it. "fans noticed you're always carrying your girlfriend's things."
chigiri looks genuinely confused. "yeah? what of it?"
“well, why?"
"because she doesn't want to."
the clip gets 12 million views. because the answer wasn't "because i have to." it wasn't "because she asks." it wasn't even "because i'm being nice." it was simply: “because she doesn't want to.”
that’s reason enough for him.
barou shoei
barou's entire shipping scandal starts because he makes one mistake. one. single. mistake.
during an interview, he's sitting there looking annoyed as usual, answering questions with the enthusiasm of a man being forced to be on camera. the reporter asks him something. barou reaches for his phone to check something.
then the screen lights up. for less than a second. that's all it takes. well, he should know that his fans are attentive.
the interview clip gets posted online and within 10 minutes someone has already zoomed in, enhanced the image, adjusted the brightness, sharpened the pixels, and somehow identified the lock screen photo.
and it is not what anyone expected. because you're not posing. you're not dressed up. you're not looking glamorous.
you are sitting at a restaurant with your cheeks stuffed full of food, looking deeply confused, probably because barou said something stupid right before the picture was taken. the photo is objectively terrible.
the internet loses its mind. like hold on, you're gorgeous. there are thousands of professional photos of you. red carpet photos. magazine covers. and barou chose that one? that’s the photo he sees every time he unlocks his phone?
fans immediately understand the implications. that's not a photo someone picks because it's pretty. that's a photo someone picks because it makes them smile.
the memes begin instantly.
"he had access to heaven itself and chose a picture of her eating mozzarella sticks."
"that's not his girlfriend. that's his favorite person."
"barou looking at this picture after every notification:"
people become obsessed with the fact that the photo isn't flattering. it means he loves the version of you that nobody else sees. the version that's laughing too hard, making weird faces, stealing food off his plate when you promised you weren't hungry.
and when a reporter finally asks him about it months later, barou immediately gets defensive. "what's wrong with the picture?"
"nothing. people just expected something more romantic."
"... it is romantic."
the room goes silent. barou realizes what he just said. the interviewer realizes what he just said. the internet realizes what he just said.
and suddenly "it is romantic" is trending worldwide.
yukimiya kenyu
yukimiya accidentally creates one of the most beloved relationship clips on the internet entirely because he answered a question too quickly.
it happens after a match. the game was intense, the stadium is still packed, and he's doing one of those fan interaction events near the sidelines. he's signing jerseys, taking photos, chatting with supporters. the usual.
you're standing nearby, waiting for him to finish. then a little girl, maybe 6 or 7 years old, walks up to him. she's shy. holding a tiny soccer ball.
yukimiya kneels down so he's at eye level with her and signs it. everyone thinks it's a sweet interaction.
then the girl asks: "are you famous?"
the people around them laugh. because of course he is. he's yukimiya kenyu.
he smiles. "i guess so."
the little girl thinks about that answer for a second. then points directly at you, who is standing a few feet away. and asks: "what about her?"
nobody expects anything special. most people assume he'll say you're famous, too. or maybe introduce you.
but instead, yukimiya glances over at you and immediately says: "she's more important."
just like that. without hesitation. without thinking. without even realizing what he said.
the little girl nods like that answer makes perfect sense.
the surrounding fans, however, nearly collapse. did he seriously just say that???
the clip spreads online within hours. people replay it over and over. and point out how quick he was with his reply. there was no pause. no consideration or moment of thought. his answer was immediate and instinctive. the kind of response that comes from the heart before your brain catches up.
fans become obsessed.
"he didn't even have to think about it."
"bro answered that question faster than he answers interview questions about soccer."
"you can literally see him look at her and forget he's a celebrity."
the clip somehow gets even worse when people notice what happens afterward. because after saying it, yukimiya looks over at you. and smiles a small smile. the smile that's completely different from the polished media-trained one he uses for cameras.
and suddenly the internet has a second thing to obsess over. there are edits. compilations. slow-motion zoom-ins. people calling it the "more important" clip.
months later, reporters are still bringing it up. every single time, yukimiya gets embarrassed.
from his perspective, he genuinely doesn't understand what the big deal is. the little girl asked a question. he answered honestly. of course you're more important.
that was never something he had to think about.
kunigami rensuke
kunigami accidentally reveals the most devastatingly wholesome habit imaginable during a documentary.
the camera crew is filming at his house showing his routine, his gym, his kitchen, normal athlete documentary stuff.
then they get to the refrigerator. and everybody notices it: a tiny collection of colorful sticky notes. at least 20 of them. all written in neat handwriting that is clearly not his. but yours.
the documentary crew asks about it. and now everyone learns the truth.
every time you leave his house, you write him a little note. sometimes it's encouragement. sometimes it's reminders. sometimes it's complete nonsense.
"don't forget your keys."
"good luck today!"
"you're banned from buying more protein powder."
"the leftovers are mine."
instead of throwing them away, kunigami keeps every. single. one.
the internet is instantly reduced to tears. the sticky notes aren’t organized or displayed nicely. they're just stuck all over the fridge because he likes seeing them.
fans immediately start posting:
"he kept the receipt." "that's a six-foot hero built like a tank and he's collecting sticky notes like treasure." "your honor, he's gone."
and when asked why he keeps them, kunigami looks genuinely confused. "because she wrote them for me." as if that's the most obvious answer in the world.
which somehow makes everyone cry even harder.
hiori yo
hiori becomes a shipping victim because of a single tweet. or rather, because of what he likes.
hiori rarely posts, interacts, does anything online. which is why fans immediately notice that he has liked approximately every post you've ever made. within minutes. every single time.
new selfie? liked.
random photo of the beach at night? liked.
picture of a sandwich? liked.
tweet saying you're bored? liked.
one fan makes a spreadsheet. an actual spreadsheet tracking the timestamps. they discover hiori is consistently among the first people to interact, sometimes within 30 seconds. the spreadsheet goes viral.
people start calling him your strongest soldier.
the funniest part comes when someone asks him about it during an interview. "hiori, fans noticed you like a lot of your girlfriend's posts."
hiori blinks, thinks for a moment, then casually responds: "yeah."
"..."
"am i not supposed to?"
the clip immediately gets 20 million views.
because no, hiori doesn't understand why everyone's making a big deal out of it. he just likes seeing you.
the internet considers that the most romantic answer possible.
bunny iglesias
bunny accidentally causes a relationship apocalypse during an awards show.
he wins an award. it’s a huge moment. everyone expects some emotional speech. maybe a thank you to fans. his family. his teammates.
instead, bunny walks up to the microphone, accepts the trophy, and immediately starts looking around the room.
the audience is confused. the host is confused. the cameras are confused.
then he spots you sitting near the front. his entire face lights up. and suddenly, the speech becomes less of a speech and more of a conversation. with you, specifically.
he keeps making comments directly toward your table. you laugh. he gets distracted. he forgets what he's saying twice.
at one point, he literally points at you and says: "see? that's why i practiced this speech."
the crowd starts screaming. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? she helped you practice? how many times did you rehearse? how involved is she?
the internet spends weeks making compilations of bunny completely abandoning the existence of everyone else in the room the second he spots you.
the final verdict? bunny iglesias could be standing in front of 10,000 people and he'd still somehow only be talking to one.
vivian hugo
hugo gets exposed because he cannot stop making you laugh. that's it. that's the entire problem.
every public appearance. every red carpet. every livestream. every interview. all of it somehow ends with you laughing so hard you can't breathe.
and nobody knows why. the cameras never catch it. they only catch the aftermath – you doubled over laughing. hugo looking incredibly pleased with himself.
the internet becomes obsessed. what is he saying? what secret knowledge does this man possess?
then one day a microphone finally catches it. the answer is devastating.
you're walking together before an event, completely normal conversation.
then hugo points at a passing car and quietly goes: "zoom." you laugh.
he points at another one. "beep beep." you laugh harder.
then he spots a motorcycle. without missing a beat: "vrrrrroooom."
the microphone catches EVERYTHING.
everyone is horrified. THAT'S IT? that's the joke? those are the elite comedic talents responsible for all these viral laughing fits of yours?
people start digging through old clips. now everything makes sense. the random smiles. the giggling. the times you've buried your face in his shoulder to stop laughing. the answer was never some brilliant joke. it was just hugo making sound effects.
fans immediately lose their minds.
"she laughs at him like he's the funniest man alive and bro is literally going 'beep beep.'"
"the standards are in hell."
"he found the love of his life because she thinks of onomatopoeia as comedy."
the funniest part is that after the clip goes viral, hugo doubles down. he starts making even more sound effects in public.
they keep working on you. every single time without fail.
