Discover Top Posts Tagged with #reader x barou

ROMANTIC MOMENTS CAUGHT BY FANS WITH THE BLLK BOYS! 📸

🎥 synopsis: Your relationship with him is already established, but fans still can’t get enough of the two of you—always wanting more crumbs. Accidental meetups, funny moments, and romantic scenes that get captured, or posted by them online offer the world a chance to witness little glimpses of your dynamic with him.

🎞️ a/n: fem!reader, Kurona’s tipsy in this one!! Fictional world logic, please don’t report me. Also, I might have went a biiit (very) overboard with the likes but nvm gang, these boys deserve it anyway :) don’t mind the colors, I just fcked up big time, p.s.: happy late birthday to Shidou

🎬 characters: barou s., alexis n., chigiri h., kurona r., sae i., sendo s. and shidou r.

Barou Shoei—please just sybau

“Could you sign our balls, please?”

That was the opening line to the short video clip that was posted by some fans from last night, tagging both you and your boyfriend on it.

It started off as a simple date at your usual spot—the bowling alley at the mall. You two have always made sure to go at the late hours when the chances of running into fans were lower than usual.

Yet somehow, a few of them ended up there anyway, spotting you two from afar as he tried to teach you the tricks for a perfect strike while they mustered up the courage to walk up to your boyfriend for autographs and pictures.

Safe to say, he wasn’t exactly impressed—or at least not with the way they asked him for permission, and crashed your date.

Still—as media training taught him—he quickly signed their bowling balls and posed for pictures as usual while you were wheezing in the background.

Rolling his eyes at your hunched back—after the last signature—he went back for another round.

Waving goodbye, the fans returned to their section before later also capturing the scene of you ending up in your boyfriend’s arms from laughing too hard.

5.7 million likes and a comment from:

@theoneandonly_y/n: next time just shove your balls in his face

@king_barou: i don’t know her

Alexis Ness—appreciation post

Not long ago, the two of you celebrated your very first anniversary.

Your boyfriend made sure everything went smoothly since he’d been preparing for the special occasion for weeks—extremely thrilled to celebrate with you along with his fans who later flooded your account with the sweetest messages.

The plan was simple.

A candlelit dinner which would be followed by an exchange of gifts—you receiving a beautiful necklace while he would get a personalized wand, the two gifts engraved with both of your initials on it.

It was meant to be a private date.

But, as fate would have it, another couple—who were also big fans—happened to be dining in the same restaurant as well, witnessing your little celebration from a few tables away.

Multiple dishes, huge bouquet beside you, and a small cake with a single candle which you blew out together were all captured on camera before ending up on the internet the next day along with a short video clip—showing you bawling your eyes out after reading his handwritten love letter which later caused the fans to melt and cry along with you at his overwhelming love and affection.

6.4 million likes with a reply from:

@alexis_nessie: simply happy to be hers 💕

Chigiri Hyoma—walking meme

A fan was out shopping when she saw the two of you in a nearby makeup store, both wearing matching caps—though they barely did anything to hide your boyfriend’s unmistakable pink hair—making her internally scream before pulling out her phone to snap a picture.

And there he was—the famous football star, caught inspecting the back of a foundation bottle like he was some kind of expert, one hand lazily resting on his hip.

All while you, his girlfriend, silently stood next to him with a bored expression, scrolling through your phone with a shopping basket in hand.

You looked like someone who’d been dragged there against their will, forced to carry a basket (which the fan assumed was full of his stuff anyway), fulfilling the role of a responsible partner while he shopped around, picking out products for both of you.

3.2 million likes and reposted by @chigiri_hym himself

Kurona Ranze—self-exposed

One of your boyfriend’s favorite birthday traditions was to post one specifically chaotic video—which was filmed ages ago—every single year without fail:

The two of you wearing matching inflatable shark costumes and dancing to Baby Shark while cracking up.

No one has ever really seen the video except those on his private account—until now.

This year, he was kinda tipsy—okay, perhaps very drunk after another team victory and birthday celebration—causing him, on the way home, to forget to switch from his public to private account.

Instead, your boyfriend just straight up went to his gallery, selected the video, and uploaded it to his main account. Yes, the one with millions of fans, followed by the caption:

best giugjft ihve eveeer got for my bdayhr lovlovhyu

The next morning, he woke up to the sound of constant beeping along with the feeling of his head about to split open. Deciding to get a bit more sleep, just as he was about to turn his phone off, the glimpse of probably hundreds of notifications blinded his eyes—from fans all around the world, even his teammates, you and oh no…was that the PR team?!

2.6 million likes and comments from:

@isagi_y10: wrong account but love the vid

@hioyooo_16: erm actually I want a custome like that as well

@nanana_jiro: so cute 🥰

Itoshi Sae—rejected on spot

Talking, signing, accepting gifts, refusing gifts and ridiculous requests were just a normal part of your boyfriend’s routine when dealing with fan interactions.

His manager always made sure to carry at least three acrylic markers, fully aware that the number of people who lined up to simply wave at, or get an autograph from the player was a lot.

Today was hectic—he’s been standing in the middle of a street for 20 minutes now, the crowd buzzing with excitement, thrilled to be in the presence of the older Itoshi.

Your boyfriend—as usual—was unbothered. With a calm demeanor and dark shades holding his bangs, he held a black pen, quickly signing each of his fans’ merch while posing for pictures at the same time.

Then came the question.

“Can you be my boyfriend?” a girl asked while recording him for some trend that was going around the internet.

Without a word, your boyfriend simply held up one finger on reflex. And—damn. Was that a…RING?

In a matter of seconds the crowd lost it. The fans went absolutely feral at his rejection that couldn’t have been any more romantic and savage—true to his reputation.

Liked by @official_itoshi_sae and 8.1 million others

Sendou Shuto—100% sweetness

It was a calm weekend morning—relatively early for caffeine runs when your boyfriend decided to surprise you with a cake and a drink.

Stopping by the local coffee shop, he accidentally bumped into some fans who instantly recognized him despite the black cap, running gear, and mask—his salmon pink hair being a dead giveaway.

So naturally, they quickly lined up behind him, cameras already rolling. One even poked his back for an autograph.

With a practiced smile and polite hellos, he turned around—then held up his index finger to pause them before turning back to the cashier, placing his usual order.

And then came yours.

The fans weren’t exactly shocked when he added another drink since he’d recently gone public with your relationship—but what did surprise them was how perfectly he knew it. Exact sugar pumps, milk percentage, size—every detail came out smooth, like muscle memory.

After paying, he turned back, signed, posed, and left.

Seconds later, a video went up with the caption:

“Caught boyfriend material Sendou in the wild ☕️”

6.3 million likes including @sendou_s

Shidou Ryusei—secret muse…or not

Your boyfriend was extremely active on social media. He always had a story, posting some crazy moments with you, or sharing not-so-flattering pictures that he deemed cute saying how your drool added a certain charm to the photo.

Fans could keep up with his progress, iconic interview moments, or his daily life simply by following him on different media platforms.

Aside from regular posts, after announcing your relationship—you had gotten highlights dedicated to you on his main account as well that had some absolutely unhinged pics the fans could laugh at.

Little did they know besides the multiple highlights, your boyfriend also had a whole other account—filled with numerous paintings, sketches or blurred photos of you. Shidou kept it discreet, always leaving out your eyes, or cropping the picture if he deemed it too recognizable.

But, obviously, some hawk-eyed fans caught on.

Then the account exploded, gaining a massive 1 million followers overnight. Every post inspired by you was now shared to the public.

Fans swooned at his adoration for his lover. You cried a little. He started to follow it with his main.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #reader x barou #alexis ness x reader #chigiri x reader #kurona ranze x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sendou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #blue lock barou shoei #alexis ness #bllk chigiri hyoma #bllk kurona ranze #bllk sae itoshi #sendou shuto #bllk shidou ryusei

HE’S JUST AN ORDINARY BOY~

synopsis: They conquered the pitch. Now imagine them anywhere but on it.

a/n: welcome 2x back to my page! autumn break has started meaning I have time~to finally write yeyeyeyey. also i hope smby gets the title reference even tho i changed the gender

characters: reo m., shidou r., sae i., barou s., yukimiya k., bachira m., otoya e., rin i., karasu t., nanase n., aryu j., and nagi s.

Reo Mikage—office drama

Company Boss x Office Worker/Assistant

After graduating, you got an average 9-5 and over the years, you slowly went up the ranks. Thanks to that, your boring office job turned into this tiring, coffee-consuming nightmare. Being the personal assistant of Mikage Reo, owner of the Mikage Corps. meant a lot, I mean a lot of paperwork. And phone calls…and emails…and coffee orders etc.

Your boss’ personality didn’t help either. Since when were men in their 20s so…arrogant? So what if he was a millionaire, he still doesn’t have the right to cut off your only free day, that is Sunday to make you accompany him to some family dinner.

“I’m gonna pay you for the full day.” he says, lifting his black card. Wow, bribery what a gentleman.

“I’m meeting your parents…” you say before emphasizing “…as your freaking girlfriend.”

“Double the pay and you get a month more vacation. Deal?” he sighed, slowly realizing what he has dragged you into.

“Deal.”

Shidou Ryusei—secret admirer

Professional Artist x Unknown Muse

He was a famous name among the art community—his paintings bursting with vibrant colors (specifically hot pink), every piece holding a different meaning, every canvas arranged in ways that made critics stare for hours.

Nobody really knew where his incredible inspiration came from. They just called him a chaotic genius, a hidden gem, best of his century, the kind of artist whose emotions bled through his brushstrokes.

You, however, didn’t know much about art. Museums weren’t really your thing, and you wouldn’t have remembered his name—if not for the fact that he once knew you extremely well.

Way back in high school.

He was the delinquent who spent more time in detention than in class. You were the unlucky student who ended up talking to him in the infirmary after one of his fights, your ankle wrapped in bandages while he nursed a bloody lip.

That was where it all started…those secret conversations behind the nurse’s curtain, under staircases, on the rooftop when no one was watching.

He was falling for you harder and harder every day until graduation came when you both went separate ways.

He didn’t even get to confess.

Yet, years after he found fame and held his own exhibitions, he’d still linger until closing time, hoping maybe—just maybe—you’d walk through those glass doors one day.

And you did.

On a Friday night.

With your blind date—nervous, smiling, trying too hard to impress—who decided to bring you to his gallery.

Itoshi Sae—case study

Lawyer x Associate

You’ve noticed Sae since day one—sharp, composed, the kind of lawyer who makes junior associates break out in a cold sweat.

You, on the other hand? Complete opposite, the embodiment of disaster. Spilled coffee on your notes, tripped over your own feet, misfiled documents—you name it. But somehow, you still manage survive each day.

“Congrats” one of your colleagues whispers as you fumble through a new stack of files. “You got the worst trainer in the firm. He’s…terrifying.”

‘Yeah, terrifyingly good…’ you think, but agree nonetheless bc they are somewhat right, and Sae doesn’t make it any easier.

Strict to the core, expects 110%, and randomly quizzes you during the most inconvenient moments.

Mid-lunch? Pop-quiz. Walking to the elevator? Quick test. Just standing there thinking about your mistakes? Answer the question in 10 seconds.

“Check these documents again” he says, voice calm, eyes piercing as he slides a contract across your desk. “Now.”

You scramble, knocking over a pen cup in the process. He doesn’t even flinch anymore. “Focus,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose since this isn’t the first time you’ve destroyed his workspace.

And yet…there’s something about it.

Despite the chaos, the nerves, the random pop quizzes, the impossible standards…you want to rise to the challenge. Even if it means tripping over yourself a few more times.

Barou Shoei—neighbors to lovers

Quiet neighbor x Loud neighbor

He had his famous chain of restaurants all over the capital city, yet still lived in an unknown town, renting a small apartment. Nobody really knew his identity, and even if they did, nobody messed with him after seeing his figure. Except for you, the neighbor across the hall—annoyingly loud and impossible to ignore.

Every day you would bring a new surprise: trash left rotting by the door for a week, music blasting at 8 in the morning, or burnt cookies covered in frosting.

Still, somehow, you got along w him. Phone numbers were exchanged for emergencies, rooftop chats were held on the weekends, and occasional gifts of food or a quick fix to a broken lamp would happen every now and then. You even offered cheap beer and a bag of soggy chips to him one night, not knowing he was a professional chef aside from being your quiet, nonchalantly handsome neighbor.

☆ theres a series like this, check it out-> here

Yukimiya Kenyu—capture his beauty

Model x Photographer

Being one of the best models in Japan, his face was plastered everywhere—from billboards to local newspapers—celebrating yet another groundbreaking moment on the runway.

He was a professional.

You, on the other hand, had just freshly graduated, working as a local photographer and taking on any request you could get your hands on.

Working beside someone like him felt like a dream.

But somehow, along the years going from editor gigs to street photography—you managed to climb your way up to a decent position at a creative company.

And that’s the story of how you landed your first big project: shooting pics for the upcoming fall collection for one of the country’s top fashion brands.

The very same brand that he was modeling for.

Bachira Meguru—in tune

Voice Actor x Animator

This man is so passionate about his job. It’s his charm to bring joy with his voice, reading every line with fierce emotion and focus. His name is known everywhere—from children’s movies to teen books to anime and games—he’s everywhere.

Meanwhile you’re just an animator looking for the perfect voice for a project’s main character, but no one’s come close to fitting yet.

That’s until one late night, while storyboarding with the radio playing in the background, you hear him talking. The announcer says his name: Bachira Meguru.

His tone is bright, playful, full of warmth and his motto that says he wishes his voice would chase the monsters out of any kid’s head immediately caught your attention.

You can’t shake the sound from your mind. By morning, you’re scrolling through social media, finding his profile, hesitating for a full ten minutes before finally messaging him about a possible collab.

You don’t expect an answer, but minutes later your phone buzzes.

@beebachira.m. : Sure, sounds fun :)

Otoya Eita—magical lyrical beautiful

Musician x Writer

He was the guy everyone knew around campus—charismatic, reckless, effortlessly charming aka a player.

You were an introvert who would always sit in the corner of his parties, notebook open, scribbling lines about the music, the energy, the way he seemed to bend the room around him with each guitar string.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d noticed you too. From across the room, the quiet writer with the sharp eyes, always observing, always thinking, never drinking. He would smirk to himself when you ignored his glances during lectures or stomped on the notes he passed you in the library.

The unexplainable tension was always there, but neither of you made a move until years later, when you were sent to interview him.

The boy you watched from afar in college is now sitting across from you—accomplished, famous, talented.

You, now as a journalist, sitting in his studio, blatantly ignoring the amount of awards behind you, solely focused on writing down each word he has to offer to the questions you asked.

The subtle tension in his gaze, the same warmth and quiet attention he once reserved for you alone is still there.

Otoya hasn’t said anything personal yet, but the way he looks at you makes it clear: he remembers.

Karasu Tabito—protect the heart

Bodyguard x CEO

After your personal bodyguard had to take a leave due to an injury, you were forced to start interviewing candidates as a replacement.

That’s when he came in—crisp black suit, gelled hair, and a blue tie for a pop of color. Flawless resume. Handsome, even.

So, he got the job.

And that’s when you realized you hadn’t signed up for this.

Sharp indigo eyes monitoring your every move, his shadow following you everywhere…even to the freaking bathroom door. He stood by you 24/7 like a guard dog, throwing in a wink every now and then. On some days, he was downright chatty, talking your ear off during the drive to and from the office.

You could have simply fired him.

But you always let it slide.

“Don’t you ever get tired of staring holes into people?” you muttered one evening, packing your briefcase.

“Only when it’s not you” he replied smoothly, leaning against the doorframe. He wasn’t supposed to flirt, he was supposed to do his work professionally.

Hand on your back to guide you out of overwhelming crowds, carrying your bag and flashing a grin whenever he signed out for the day.

Karasu was meant to protect you from danger.

But over time, you started to think……maybe he was the danger.

Nanase Nijiro—opposites attract?

Farm Boy x City Girl

To be frank…you needed to be humbled.

Growing up with a diamond spoon in your mouth, you’d never truly felt the weight of the world or the value of money. Your parents, worried that their fortune might vanish before retirement came up with a plan.

A terrible, but brilliant plan.

To them—sending you to a distant relative’s farm for half a year to “learn something useful, to build character and to basically suffer seemed to be a good idea.

You opposed to it the moment you arrived to the countryside.

The place reeked of hay, mud, and misery.

You frowned the second you stepped out of the car until your eyes landed on the one salvageable part of this disaster: your childhood friend and the caretaker of the animals there, Nanase Nijiro.

Him in his stupid overall and grandma sun hat with dirt smudged across his cheek—somehow still managing to make your heart skip a beat even after all these years.

“Careful!” he called out as you stepped forward, luxury bag swinging at your side.

“What?”

Then a pause. A beat of silence.

“…Did I just step in cow dung?”

He winced, hiding a small laugh. “Yep. Welcome back, Y/N”

Itoshi Rin—unexpected reunion

Doctor x Nurse

You had noticed Rin since the beginning of college—always sitting in the furthest corner of the library or eating lunch alone with his headphones while reviewing notes. Attending the same campus, with busy schedules and different classes, your paths rarely crossed.

He was so immersed, so focused on his goals, that even seeing him at a party felt like a miracle. Still, over the years, you somehow developed a kind of fleeting, hallway-type crush on him—a quiet curiosity that lingered long after the moment had passed.

What you didn’t expect was that after graduating and years of working, transferring to a new hospital would throw you into the deep end: you’d be assigned to work alongside a new team, his team, Dr. Itoshi’s team—for the upcoming months.

The thought made your chest tighten slightly. The same sharp gaze, the same controlled presence, and now, side by side in scrubs instead of lecture halls—it felt both familiar and completely new.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much of the person you’d admired from afar had stayed the same…and how much had he changed.

Aryu Jyubei—passion and fashion

Fashion Designer x Rookie Model

New to the world of glamour and fashion, you were at the very bottom of the chain.

A one-person team, barely any followers, and a schedule that was anything but full—your life in the industry was just beginning.

That was until you met him.

A freshly graduated student as well—coming from the same university you came from, offering to help boost your image via letting you model his designs in exchange for promoting his clothes and work. A collaboration of sorts, if you could call it that.

That’s how the work between an unknown designer and a newbie model began.

Hours of quiet, intimate time was spent in his office, surrounded by different fabrics, scattered sketches, loose threads, along w pictures of you pinned to the wall for inspiration.

Then came the first post. One photo of a dress made and designed by him with your face, and the internet exploded.

Within days, you landed your first photoshoot with a major brand.

“I’ll put you on the runway” he told you one night, eyes burning with confidence, “even if it kills me.”

Nagi Seishiro—IT couple

Gamer and Streamer x Beauty Influencer

Nagi, otherwise known as nagisei7, was a famous gamer and streamer with millions of subscribers across every social platform. He had sponsors, collaborations, and a packed schedule—yet somehow, every time he went live, fans just had to mention you out of the blue.

You weren’t even part of the gaming world—a beauty blogger, far from his usual interests—but after fans spotted the two of you talking rather closely at an award show, your name slowly began flooding his comment sections.

Everyone demanded some kind of confirmation, a sign, or content featuring the two of you. The internet was already acting like you were dating, but what they didn’t know was that it was all staged.

Being from the same company, you and Nagi had made a secret agreement to play the part of an online couple, just for fun, to spark rumors and get some views.

“Did you already sign the contract?” you asked one afternoon, spotting him in the company hallway.

“Yeah,” he replied, hands in his pockets. “They said I get to post the first collab video.”

“WHAT?”

CROSS COURT ft. Haikyuu boys

synopsis: The gala of the century where the sports world’s youngest athletes and coaches get together to receive the fruit of their hard work is a glamorous event of the year. So what happens when his plus one gets distracted with another player who doesn’t even play in the same field as him?

a/n: the endless options for Barou like Osamu or even Akaashi

characters: nagi s., kenma k., barou s., sakusa k., otoya e., and terushima y.

Nagi Seishiro—opps in real life

He was starting to get exhausted.

The tight suit was making him sweat, his ice-cold tea was melting, and being dragged into yet another team photo and interview was driving him up the wall. All Nagi really wanted was to sit next to you, in the air-conditioned room, and play games until the night finally ended.

But, of course, because he was a pro athlete, he couldn’t even touch his phone talk about lazing around. You had it instead, keeping it safe until he got back.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally got a break, but the sight that welcomed him?

Not pleasant.

“What are you doing, angel?” he asked, voice flat, eyes narrowing just slightly. Another guy was sitting way too close to you, seemingly playing the same game that you were doing on his phone.

Who’s that?

Definitely not a football player, that’s for sure.

“You’re back, Sei!” you stood up, smiling, before introducing him. “This is Kenma Kozume. We used to play at the same arcade back in middle school,” you said, patting the seat beside you.

“Ah, I see. Hi..” Nagi muttered, already grabbing his phone back when he noticed your pleading gaze, those damn eyes you always used when you wanted something. “What…?”

“My phone died…can I play on yours? Just to finish this round? Pleaseee?”

And as much as he’d wanted to say no, he couldn’t. So, you happily played in a duo with the dyed-blond as Nagi silently watched you two clear the level.

One match felt like a reaaaally long time.

Kenma was good.

Too good.

Almost as good as him.

When it finally ended, Nagi expected you to watch him play next, but Kenma didn’t move. Instead, he stayed sat at your side, and you kept watching him—way too amused and close for Nagi’s liking.

“Wanna battle?” your boyfriend suddenly suggested, his tone calm, but his stare clearly saying something else: challenge.

With a sly smirk, Kenma accepted the offer. “Sure.”

Then the game began.

Each move was made with extreme precision and intense tension for way too long, the winner being unpredictable until the very end.

The last fight was interrupted by the MC announcing the start of the ceremony, and as Kenma waved goodbye, Nagi instantly intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you a little closer.

“What was that for, hm?” you asked, glancing at him, who gave you a small smile in victory, happy to have destroyed the opponent.

He leaned his head on your shoulder, muttering quietly-

“Nothing…just wanted to win your heart back…”

Barou Shoei—messy situation

Your favorite part of being Barou’s plus one at every event wasn’t the red carpet, the luxury, or even the celebrity company.

It was the free food.

While everyone else lingered around the dance floor or gathered for photos, you and your boyfriend could always be found at the buffet or the bar.

And this gala? Did. not. disappoint.

“Omg, look at all these options, babe!” you gasped, dragging him toward the table overflowing with mini sandwiches, tiny cakes, and colorful drinks. Barou reluctantly followed, arms crossed, but there was a faint twitch of amusement tugging at his lips.

“Eating these isn’t a proper meal,” he grumbled, eyeing your slowly overflowing plate.

“Who said I wasn’t going to have dinner after this?” you shot back immediately, stuffing a bite of burger into his mouth before grabbing a slice of sponge cake.

Taking a big bite, you then froze as half the cake slid right off and landed on your dress.

“Ah, shit,” you muttered, staring at the smear of strawberry jam across your crimson gown. At least it sort of blended in…

Your boyfriend tiredly sighed, already knowing that something was gonna happen. “Stay here. I’ll get some tissues.”

And as he stomped off, someone else stepped in to save the day, hand extended and perfectly calm.

“Here” a voice said, offering you a perfectly folded white handkerchief.

You blinked, recognition hitting you instantly.

No freaking way.

That was Sakusa Kiyoomi. The cleanest and calmest volleyball star.

“Oh—uh, thank you so much!” you said, bowing slightly while carefully blotting the stain. He nodded politely, maintaining what looked like a safe five-foot distance.

“It’s fine,” Sakusa said, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Just…please remember to wash that before you return it”

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Of course, and thank you again” gosh. That’s so him.

Before the raven could get away, an opportunity suddenly popped into your mind.

“Um, Sakusa-san?” he looked at you, a little wary. “Could we maybe take a picture? I’m a huge fan and…I-I promise I won’t get cake on you,” you joked, earning a small snort from him.

“Fine. Just…no touching, please.”

You smiled like you’d won the lottery. “Yes, of course! Thank you!”

And right as you lifted your phone, Barou returned—stopping dead in his tracks when he saw you posing next to the volleyball player.

“What the hell is goin’ on here?”

“Just a picture!” you said defensively as Sakusa stepped an extra inch away, already regretting his life choices.

“Relax,” the other man said dryly. “She’s not even in frame yet.”

The football striker glared, moving behind the phone. “Yeah, well, I’ll take the damn picture.” he snatched the device from your hand, muttering something about “volleyball stars” under his breath before snapping a few (very obviously unflattering) shots.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, ignoring the way Barou kept one arm firmly around your waist like a guard dog while practically staring daggers at Sakusa who simply nodded, taking a quick step back.

“Have a good evening,” he said politely before walking off, discreetly sanitizing his hands as he went.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to your boyfriend with an amused grin. “You jealous?”

He mockingly laughed. “No. It’s just that you are a bigback, and now big flirt too, huh?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Shut up, angry bird.”

Grabbing a new piece of cake, you stuffed it into his mouth before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “There. Happy?”

Barou chewed slowly, pretending to stay annoyed, but the way his ears turned red quickly gave him away.

“…Yeah,” he muttered, finally swallowing. “Just don’t let another volleyball guy hand you their handkerchief again.”

“Fine,” you teased. “Next time, I’ll just use your shirt then.”

Otoya Eita—player vs. player (literally)

He knew you were a volleyball fan from your very first date, and honestly? He didn’t mind. In fact, Otoya was sure that after a few months together, he’d turn you into a football fan.

He was wrong, of course, but he still listened. Every rant about rotations, match schedules, and serves—he tried to memorize them all, even vaguely remembering who your favorite player was.

“That’s Kirishima, right?” he whispered to Karasu, leaning close during the pre-ceremony mingling.

“It’s Terushima, ya dumbass,” Karasu snorted, nodding toward you.

There you were, taking your sweet time to chat with your idol, Terushima Yūji himself. Taking selfies, fangirling, and laughing—twenty minutes gone already.

He got it, he really did.

Meeting your favorite was huge, but abandoning your boyfriend to gush over that bleach-haired peacock?

Not nice.

“The ceremony starts in ten,” your boyfriend muttered, foot tapping. “I’m supposed to be up there accepting an award, and she’s—”

His eye visibly twitched when he noticed the blond leaning in a bit too close, phone in hand. Was he…asking for your number?

Before you could even react, Otoya was already beside you like some ninja, flashing his fakest smile.

“Hey, Tsukishima, right?” he said smoothly, extending his hand while subtly tugging you closer to him.

“Almost. It’s Terushima. And you are…?” the volleyball player gave a challenging look to your boyfriend, accepting the handshake.

“Otoya Eita,” he smirked. “Football player. Her boyfriend too.”

Terushima’s smirk faltered for a second, taken aback, but he recovered fast. “Right…anyway, as I was saying-”

“Babe, I think Karasu called for us. Let’s go” Otoya interrupted, draping an arm over your shoulders and steering you away in one easy motion.

“Eita, that was rude,” you whispered to him once you were back to your table. “I can talk to people, y’know?”

“Just claiming what’s mine,” he answered, pressing a gentle kiss into your hair for compensation. “Next time maybe choose someone who doesn’t flirt back.” glancing back over his shoulder, he winked back at the volleyball player who was left hanging.

taglist: @wensurr 🧡

BLUE LOCK BOYS AS THE 5 LOVE LANGUAGES

ACTS OF SERVICE

synopsis: Being loved can take many forms, known as love languages. This series breaks down the five main ones, showcasing the different ways they can appear and highlighting how the BLLK boys express their primary love language.

🩶 a/n: how’s the series so far? also, im a firm believer that chigiri will have a drivers license bc this man would love speeding

🎞️ characters: barou s., chigiri h., kunigami r., and gagamaru g.

🎼 song: JVKE—i can’t help it + JVKE—moon and back

Barou Shoei

He’s the literal embodiment of an acts-of-service man. (you CANNOT convince me otherwise)

Comes home before you after literally flying in from the other side of the world for international matches? This man doesn’t suffer from jet lag—he suffers from the urge to clean. By the time you finish work and walk through the door, the laundry is folded, the apartment smells fresh, and the bedsheets have already been changed.

Feeling a little down or stressed? He can cook. He can bake (and has a massive cake). He can absolutely throw together a full meal without blinking. But more often than not, he’ll just slide a plate of warm baked goodies toward you while a pot of soup simmers on the stove as he replays his match footage in the background.

He’s also the type to silently cut fruit for you (without the garlicky aftertaste) while you’re hunched over the kitchen table, studying or working, placing the bowl next to your elbow without saying a word.

He makes sure to serve you well since you’re his queen after all.

Chigiri Hyoma

He’s your boyfriend, but also your emergency contact whenever life goes sideways. Need a ride after your shift? He’s there. Heading out to a girls night? He’ll insist on driving you, no questions asked. Craving a late-night snack? You best believe he’ll take you to the McDonald’s drive-through without hesitation.

His care doesn’t stop there and acts of service come naturally to him. If you fall asleep with makeup on, he’s the one gently wiping it off with cotton pads before tucking you in. Sometimes you’ll even wake up with a facemask on because he decided your skin “looked tired.” Were you about to forget sunscreen before leaving the house? Fret not, he won’t let you take another step without applying it for you first.

Chigiri keeps a small pouch for you in his duffel bag with little things you might need—hair ties, lip balm, tissues, things he’s noticed you asking for before. If you ever hand him your bag, he just carries it effortlessly, bc this man ain’t shameful for slaying while holding his partner’s purse.

Sometimes he takes the nail polish from you and insists on doing them himself, carefully holding your hand so the polish doesn’t smudge. Other times he’s gently drying your hair after a shower, quietly humming while his fingers move through the strands. It’s oddly calming, sitting close together while he works with surprising patience.

For him, love is found in small gestures, quiet attentions, and the effort of caring for you every day.

Kunigami Rensuke

As much as he has changed after the Wild Card, I still firmly believe that if he ever has a partner, he would care deeply about their overall well-being—both mentally and physically. He’s the type who shows it quietly, through routine and consistency.

Before heading out in the morning, he’ll leave a small note on the table with a simple smiley face scribbled at the bottom, your vitamins or medication neatly placed beside it so you don’t forget. Your water bottle is always filled, your bag waiting by the door. He automatically takes on your least favorite chores as well without you even mentioning it—washing dishes or taking out the trash like it’s just another part of his training discipline.

Kunigami also has a habit of hovering around you in small ways. Peeling tangerines and handing you the slices one by one while you talk, carrying your bag like it’s second nature, placing his jacket on your shoulder the moment it gets chilly. If you’re sore or exhausted, he’ll force you to sit beside him and start massaging your shoulders or legs, strong hands careful but firm.

He’s protective, but not in a suffocating way—more like someone who wants to make life just a little easier for you wherever he can.

He’s not flashy about it, but he’s always aware of you. If you’re walking together, he positions himself closer to the pavement. If you’re on a crowded bus, he quietly checks for available seats or immediately tells you to come closer. It’s little, every day things that make you feel extremely cared for.

Gagamaru Gin

Living with him sometimes feels like having a very attentive forest spirit around the house. If something’s broken, he fixes it in an instant. If you’re struggling to reach something, he silently grabs it for you. If you’re tired, he’ll wordlessly pull you to sit next to him so you can rest for a bit.

When you’re sick to the core, that’s when his love language shows the most. The fluffiest blankets appear around you, warm tea shows up on the table that he brew himself with berries that he picked himself 😭, and he’ll sit nearby 24/7 just to make sure you’re okay, even if all he does is quietly staring into the void.

When he’s away, he always reminds you to take great care of the teddy bear he gave you upon your first date, making sure you have a substitute mini maru.

He’ll insist on you dying his hair just for fun, or agree to exploring abandoned houses for shits and giggles if that’s what you want, but he always tries to make sure everything’s safe and taken care of during the activities as his way to look out for you.

And the sweetest part? He never expects praise for it. When you thank him, he just scratches the back of his neck with a shy little nod like it’s nothing.

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION V.

a/n: Hey guys, really sorry again for not updating, this past week i got hit with the flu and honestly felt like dying 💀 tyy for reading though and let me know if u see any grammatical errors ❤️

wc: 1.1k words

tags: @ttheggrimrreaper ❤️

⌢ . main masterlist

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…13, Barou Shoei.”

A few coughs and loud 'oh'-s were heard across the room. Immediately turning around, some of the girls gave you strange looks before turning back to their friends, whispering about something. Finding it weird you tried to ask around, a sudden bubble of anxiousness taking over your mind, but all of them simply decided to either ignore or give you very vague answers. Trying for a few more minutes to no avail, you decided to go to the room with the MANAGER label on, where Anri gave you your new uniform, along with a booklet and some advice.

Imagine being Barou Shoei’s manager, known as the king.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x manager au #blue lock u20 #blue lock x you #bllk barou #blue lock barou #barou shouei #barou shoei x reader #shoei barou #blue lock barou shoei #barou x reader #blue lock ubers #reader x barou #barou

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE—THE SERIES

summary: Your little neighborhood consisted of a few elders, a married couple with their son, and you. A small community with even smaller apartments—but the place was nice, and rent was cheap.

Life was good, a little boring—and maybe that’s why, a few months later, you found yourself with a new next-door neighbor—quiet, organized, and super handsome.

He doesn’t seem interested in getting involved with you. You can’t help, but disturb his peace anyway.

☆ slice-of-life, initial plan was fluff but fcked up and now it’s probably crack, neighbors to lovers, chef!Barou, fake slow burn

⟡ ⌢ . episode 1

⟡ ⌢ . episode 2

⟡ ⌢ . episode 3

⟡ ⌢ . episode 4

⟡ ⌢ . episode 5: the end

⟡ ⌢ . special ep

credit to the artist, pictures used in the series are not mine, all the dividers in the series are from @cursed-carmine 🫶

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock u20 #reader x barou #bllk barou #blue lock barou shoei #guys my fingers are bout to rot im done w tagging #also like imagine ur tryna escape my series but for a few seconds that’s all that pops up #muhahahaha haunting ur ass

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE—EPISODE 1

in a nutshell: From dealing with the grumpiest next-door neighbor to celebrating his long-awaited move-out, you’re suddenly faced with a teeny-tiny problem months later—someone new has moved in. And he looks just as grumpy…or is he?

a/n:: 1.5k words, Barou+balls=my fav opening line :) hihihi…helloo…👋 it’s me, coming back from my random disappearance, but HEY! I was working on ts for a long time now, and also as an apology I’m dropping the whole series lmao. Forgive, forget, enjoy this ep! Tyyy 🫶 p.s: yes. i used every single food idiom I knew in the series. LISTEN TO BND GUYS!!

tags: @baroupudin ❤️

series masterlist ⌢ next.

I: the boring background story

You were sweating your balls off.

The heat was unbearable—especially on a Saturday morning, when instead of sleeping in under a broken fan that was coughing out the world’s weakest breeze, someone was trying to break down your door.

“L/N! L/N!”

Your next-door neighbor, Mister Yamamoto, was banging on it like the building was on fire.

“Emergency meeting! NOW!”

Here’s the thing—your small neighborhood never had much reason for gatherings unless it involved the building’s one and only kid and his not-so-secret birthday party plans.

Everyone already knew each other’s business and routines like the back of their hands.

The walls were so thin you could tell what TV channel someone was watching from two floors down. And the benches out front? Perfect place for the elderly ladies to interrogate you about your groceries before you even make it upstairs.

So what could possibly be worth all this ruckus?

Well, apparently, Yamamoto’s window had been shattered—glass everywhere, a perfectly round hole punched through, facing his little garden.

Honestly? Nobody. freaking. cared.

Since moving in, he had already built himself quite the reputation—from arguing with the mailman, smoking like he had 9 lives to complaining about your doormat. The icing on the cake were some of his rules like:

1., Do not, under any circumstance, step into or ruin his vegetable garden. (not like there was much to harvest anyway)

2., No noise louder than a boiling kettle after 9 p.m. (this was mostly enforced on you)

And worst of all:

If you must knock then do it softly—read the paper stuck onto his door.

The irony?

The same man nearly destroyed the thin plank of wood you called your door. So, after a full minute of ignoring the thuds and yelling, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and (unwillingly) trudged to the entrance.

“Yes, sir, how can I help?” you mumbled, half-awake.

He dramatically gasped at the disastrous state of your hair before muttering something about “broken windows” and “ruined vegetables” before ordering you to follow him to the community room aka his cramped apartment next to yours.

Barely registering what happened in the last five minutes, you silently trailed behind him, slippers echoing through the hallway.

Inside, tiny hands latched onto your leg.

“Good morning, L/N!”

It was Reki, the downstairs couple’s son, beaming up at you with a toothy grin.

Sitting down on the couch—which creaked like it was on its last legs—you let him climb into your lap. Ruffling his equally messy hair, you popped your chin onto his head and whispered “You’re the culprit, aren’t you?”

The boy visibly stiffened, glanced around like a caught criminal then slowly nodded.

“Please don’t tell Mom” he whispered, already holding out his pinky. “She won’t let me go to the playground.”

You sighed but hooked your finger with his anyway. “Fine. Pinky promise.”

The apartment owner eventually arrived, clearing his throat for attention.

“I got a report that someone has shattered one of our residents window.” he said, eyes flicking to you—or more accurately to the child sitting on your lap. Then he placed a small, dirty football on the floor. “We also found this at the crime scene.”

You groaned. “Seriously, Reki?”

Yamamoto took a deep breath, ready to deliver what seemed to be the longest lecture in human history about responsibility and yada yada.

You zoned out after two minutes.

Reki fell asleep, blatantly ignoring his parents’ glares.

The elders started gossiping halfway through.

By the time it ended, your butt had practically melted into the couch. As the others were dismissed and began to scatter, except for the culprit’s parents, you nudged Reki off your lap. “Practice your shots somewhere far from his garden, will you?”

He nodded, quietly retrieving his football.

II: calm before the storm

It took the old man exactly a month to move out of the apartment complex.

Maybe he didn’t appreciate the rooftop get-together he was “accidentally” left out of, or perhaps the second shattered window was the last straw.

Either way, other than sparing 5 seconds to mourn your now empty next-door apartment, you quickly moved on—going as far as celebrating his departure with the rest of the building including grilled meat, cheap beer, and Reki happily sipping soda from a plastic cup.

For a while, things finally went back to normal. Life settled into its usual, boring rhythm—with the occasional gossip to keep things interesting.

Sometimes you even missed teasing the old man—ding-dong-ditching him for fun, or asking for cake ingredients at dawn used to be the highlight of your days.

But that was until he showed up.

III: the new eye candy

The red sports car—pulled into the neighborhood one sunny morning, parked between a kid’s bicycle and another car—stood out like a sore thumb.

You were already late for work—as usual—white button-up a little wrinkled, bag hopefully packed, and hair brushed out just enough to look like you had it together.

So naturally, as soon as you stepped outside, to get your daily embarrassment, you walked straight into a brick wall.

Except this time the wall was somehow softer but still firm, smelled exactly like freshly baked pastries, and…it talked?

“Watch your step.”

You reeled back, ready to retort, but the words immediately got stuck in your throat.

Looking up, the man in front of you was tall. Built. Expression mostly unreadable. Handsome even, if he just stopped staring at you like you were his mortal enemy.

You blinked once.

So did he.

“Will you move out of the way?” the man asked, voice deep and clearly annoyed by your silent challenge to a staring contest. And for some godforsaken reason, instead of apologizing and rushing to catch the bus, your brain just decided to add fuel to the fire.

“What’s the magic word?”

Oh. My. God.

Asking an over 6-foot-tall man—who could definitely crush you in seconds—to say please like he was 5 was an insane move from your part.

He stared hard.

Brows furrowed, crimson eyes drilling holes into your face. You braced yourself for death or a shove. Yet, with a tired sigh, he muttered an almost inaudible “please” instead.

You froze for a sec, brain short-circuiting then stepped aside like a cartoon character as he brushed past without another word.

Power walking to the bus station, that morning you cringed at the memory throughout the whole ride to the office and back.

IV: he’s as cool as a cucumber

You didn’t mean to embarrass yourself the second time. Truly.

One of the ladies on the first-floor cornered you the moment you stepped into the building. “L/N, dear, you already got yourself a new neighbor!” she beamed, clapping her hands in excitement. “Very polite gentleman. I met him an hour ago and he helped me carry up my groceries. Big heart—and chest!”

You choked on your saliva at the last part. She didn’t need to remind you of that aura loss unintentionally.

Still, trying to seem interested, you pretended not to cry at the way she was talking about the owner of the apartment next to yours—the one that had been blissfully empty since Yamamoto left.

How he was so charming, strong, nice, and handsome enough to be a potential partner for you—she lost you at the last part.

That man definitely wasn’t interested after that little encounter in the morning.

It’s okay, tho.

A sincere apology and a proper introduction work like magic, and after that, you can dig yourself a hole, and won't have to interact with him for the rest of the month.

Perfect plan.

Everything was going to be fine. You’re an adult.

As the rest of the story finished, you made your way up the stairs, hoping to collapse into your bed without further humiliation.

But, of course, fate wasn’t done with you yet.

On the last step, your ankles decided to betray you last minute.

Tripping, your keys slipped from your hands, and clattered right in front of his door.

“Brooo…” you muttered, limping forward to bend down and grab them when your new neighbor’s door flew open at the same time.

BANG

Right into your forehead. AGAIN.

He stepped out like a model from a monthly magazine, eyes lazily scanning your unfortunate figure in front of his entrance.

“You alright?” he asked, totally unbothered.

“Yeah, the floor’s surprisingly comfortable.” you muttered, rubbing the aching spot on your head. Then, he offered a hand—warm, strong, slightly calloused, and pulled you up.

“Sorry for meeting like this. I’m L/N Y/N by the way.” brushing off your clothes, you extended a hand.

He hummed, scanning your face—or more specifically the newly formed bump in the middle of your temple before saying “Barou Shoei. You live next door?”

“Yup. To your right.” you replied, pointing to the number 14 on your door, but his gaze didn’t follow your finger.

They were already stuck on the doormat in front with the label that said:

Welcome home, cheater

Right…that was yours.

“It’s a gift. Long story.” you coughed, trying to shift his focus back onto you. Nodding again, he dropped your keys into your palm, then walked off with his stupid waxed hair and perfectly folded moving boxes.

With that, Barou Shoei was gone.

ADDITIONAL TIME:

That night, stepping outside to throw away your trash, something caught your eye—a small plastic bag in front of your door with a yellow sticky note on it.

Compensation for your injury-B.S.

Crouching down, you opened the bag and inside was one cup of pudding—the expensive kind—from the nearby convenience store along with a cartoon-shaped cold pack.

“Should I be flattered or insulted?” you muttered, slightly surprised as you glanced sideways to his door.

p.s: happy late birthday to Bachira 😭 my shayla

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock barou shoei #bllk barou #shoei barou #reader x barou #barou shouei #barou shoei x reader #blue lock barou

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE—EPISODE 2

in a nutshell: If your first encounter didn’t lower the chances of bagging the hottie next-door close to a zero, don’t worry—because the upcoming events will surely guarantee it

a/n: 1.6k words, I realized that I hate proofreading 😔 also I’m pretty sure the whole series just feels like a fever dream to everyone bc wtf is this, tyy for reading tho 🫶

tags: @baroupudin 🫶

prev. ⌢ series masterlist ⌢ next.

I: realizing you’re just a couch potato

It’s been exactly a week since Barou moved into your lovely, little town.

You haven’t talked much—just the occasional morning greeting, but somehow, despite the lack of conversations, it already feels like you know him better than anyone.

For instance, you’ve memorized his routine like the ABC.

On weekdays, while you’re fighting for your life to catch the bus, he’s already on his way back from a morning run. According to the elders in the complex, Barou leaves for work about an hour after you do—but not before watering his garden with careful hands, taking out the trash like a responsible adult, or, on some days, returning from the market with arms full of groceries.

You, on the other hand? You drag yourself home in the afternoon, dump your bag on the floor, kick off mismatched socks, and burn your dinner. Again.

Barou doesn’t return until much later.

By the time you’re in pajamas, eating your second midnight snack in front of the TV, that’s when you hear him in the kitchen—pan clinking, a timer going off. No signs of a fire or screams.

And thanks to the paper-thin walls, the smell of rosemary, butter, and something delicious always seeps into your apartment.

It’s a nice upgrade from the smoky stench left behind by your former neighbor’s smoking habits.

You’ve also never heard the smoke go off once.

Instead, there’s the soft clatter of utensils, and just as you’re about to fall asleep, that’s when he starts washing the dishes.

Barou’s world is quiet precision.

Yours is noise and chaos.

II: half-baked idea

As a proper next-door neighbor, it is obviously your duty to greet Barou Shoei properly—even if a week or more has already passed.

That’s why, on a Sunday morning at 8 a.m. sharp, you stand in front of the door with the number 13 staring back at you like you’re about to enter the devil’s den.

You knock twice. Softly~

About thirty minutes ago, you’d heard dishes clinking and the coffee machine hissing through the wall, along with something that smelled illegally good—caramelized onion and smugness.

It meant one thing—he was awake.

So, being the wonderful, caring neighbor that you are, you made it your life mission to finally get to know him better. And also—

“Apology cookies! Sorry for crashing into you on your first day!” you say, way too brightly for a weekend morning, holding out a plate with both hands.

Barou stares.

Shirt wrinkled, hair damp, and coffee mug still steaming in his grip. Plus…his hair is down. No wax or anything. Just perfectly healthy locks with probably no split ends.

It shouldn’t matter—but it does. It frames his face in a way that knocks the breath out of your lungs. You feel your grip on the plate tighten slightly, and your face heating up a little.

Meanwhile his eyes flick to the patch of flour on your cheek, down to the slightly uneven, definitely overbaked squares on the plate.

So, here’s the thing—instead of playing it safe and buying some from the store down the street you baked them yourself. Hoemmade sweets that screamed “easiest cookie recipe” as he picked one up and flipped it over.

“…are they supposed to be this dark?”

You smile, trying not to hyperfixate on his jawline.

“Half of them are brownies. The other half is vanilla…extra baked. You know, so you don’t eat raw dough. Haha…”

He hums, unamused.

You can’t tell if Barou judged you for scraping off the char on some of them.

“Thanks.” he mutters a moment later, before gently closing the door in your face. Well, there goes your plan of inspecting his home.

“You’re welcome!” you call at the wood, already retreating.

Five minutes later, you hear coughing from the other side…or was that choking? Not sure. You consider checking on him, but you don’t. If he dies, at least he’ll die eating something made at the crack of dawn with baby pink frosting on it.

III: red as a tomato

After the failed cookie peace treaty, you’d planned to spend the rest of the morning hiding in your pajamas, away from all forms of human contact.

But the universe, as always, and Reki’s mom had other plans.

You were halfway down the stairs to check the mailbox when she cornered you.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she chirped, balancing a tray of freshly cut fruit. “Just got these at the market, on discount!”

You smiled politely, already sensing a favor brewing.

“Sweetheart, would you mind giving some to Barou?” she asked with a grin, pressing the tray into your hands before you could answer. “You two can share them, maybe chat, you know…neighbor things.”

Quickly trying to find an exit, a small voice suddenly piped up. “Are we visiting your potential boyfriend?”

You turned around, startled at the little presence behind your back.

Reki. Of course.

“Well, I’m not sure if-”

Too late. The gremlin was already running ahead, humming some tune, leaving you awkwardly trailing behind him with a tray of fruit, and a growing dread of social interaction.

You knocked on the familiar door once again.

It opened a few seconds later as Barou stood there with the same frown and plain black T-shirt clinging to his frame.

Switching his gaze from Reki to you, he asked-

“You again?”

Clearing your throat, and noticing his bored tone along with the way he seemed ready to slam the door shut, you quickly explained.

“Fresh fruit. From the neighbor downstairs. Not poisoned I swear.”

He nodded and then, behind you-

“WOW. Your kitchen is so cool!”

There he was…or wasn’t? Reki, dashing inside the man’s apartment. You turned around, horrified, and then back to Barou.

“I-sorry. Can I…?” you gestured vaguely toward his home as he stepped aside.

“It’s fine. Come in.”

Barou’s place was freaking pristine. Wide counters, cast iron pans hanging like weapons, and a row of spice jars all labeled in perfect handwriting. The air smelled like roasted garlic, lemon zest, and the faintest hint of wet wipes.

The little boy had already made himself comfortable on the couch, flipping through a thick cookbook from the endless amount on the bookshelf.

You moved to go retrieve him when Barou gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t mind him,” he said, quietly, palm in a warm but firm grip. You pretended not to notice. “Want something to drink?

“Uh, yeah…thanks.”

“Tea or juice?” he asked, already moving toward the fridge. “Or water. Whatever you want.”

You opened your mouth. “Water ple-“

“JUICE!” Reki interrupted, plopping onto a chair at the kitchen table like this was a scheduled play date.

Barou poured two glasses. You noticed the many different types of cups along with the Hello Kitty apron, loosely hanging. Then, snapping you out of your thoughts, Reki leaned toward you and stage-whispered, “Doesn’t he kinda look like an angry bird?”

You were stunned. Barou paused mid-pour.

“Reki…” you hissed, totally mortified as Barou turned slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Has anyone told you, you look like Pikachu?”

The child’s mouth fell open. You snorted, glancing at the small, victorious smirk tugging at the man’s lips. The pout on the boy’s face only made it funnier.

After handing you your glass, he sat down, the fruit plate between you strangely diplomatic. Trying to think of an idea to start a conversation, something small, something about the weather maybe, but your neighbor beat you to it, nudging the plate toward you both—you picked up a grape while Reki grabbed a mango slice with both hands.

The silence stretched out as the hum of the AC played as background music.

Finishing the fruit, just as you stood up to thank him and ready to escape before further embarrassment could occur, Reki looked at Barou, then at you, and as if he’d already planned revenge, he let out one sentence.

“You kinda look like a tomato.”

Your hand immediately flew over his mouth. “He says things…we’re…erm working on that. Thanks for having us.”

Barou’s expression was unreadable for a second and then he let out a tiny, unexpected laugh. Your jaw dropped. The tension in the air was thick, but not uncomfortable.

Just…new.

IV: hottie hottie like a bag of takis

A week later another building meeting happened.

This time, as always, your next-door neighbor’s place was the community room.

You plopped into the chair beside Barou, but not on purpose, it just happened, okay? The seat next to him was the only one left.

He glanced at you once, then proceeded to ignore the little wave you sent his way.

The meeting was boring.

Someone had a leak. Someone else complained about the mailbox being sticky. By the twentieth complain, both of your thoughts had already wandered away.

From Barou’s perspective, you were chaotic, messy, and unorganized from what he had observed. Your doormat said ‘cheater’, your trash had been sitting outside your door for four days, and your music blasted at 9 a.m. on weekends.

Every time he cooked, he heard the faint thud of you dropping something in your kitchen, followed by screams or a series of curses.

But in your defense, you also offered him awkward bows whenever you crossed paths, your laugh was heard throughout the whole hallway, and you tried your best to befriend someone like him.

Barou noticed things.

Like how your socks never matched, how you waved at Reki every time you passed him, and how you rested your chin in your hand during meetings, and sometimes stole glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Your eyes were curious.

Your whole being was loud.

You spoke your mind before thinking twice.

His eyes flicked to your side profile. You were still staring at the wall. Bored out of your mind perhaps sleeping with open eyes. He looked away, huffing at how he didn’t mind your presence anymore.

Meanwhile, you only had one thing on your mind, and that was—whenever Barou spoke all you heard was ’blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff’.

Yeah. That needed to stop.

Meeting ended. And that was that.