Little Mac X Reader: The Ifto Order (Trade)

You felt hopeless. Your long time friend and beloved, Little Mac, has become the best of the best in the boxing world. You always watched on TV when a boxing match was being held. Not because you were into boxing. No.

It was because you were in love with Little Mac.

Sure, he visited now and again, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the Mac you went to school with. He was LITTLE MAC, CHAMPION OF THE BOXING WORLD. You still loved him, but he was...different.

And Little Mac was aware you felt this way.



Little Mac's P.O.V.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"This is the day, Doc!" Little Mac had shouted excitedly. "(Y/N)'s coming to the tournament live today! She called me saying she got tickets and she's going to see me fight live! I need to be at my best!"

"Now, calm down, Mac," Doc Louis had said. "Honestly, it feels like you're a whole different person when you worry about what (Y/N) thinks of you."

"U-Uh...no I'm not!" Little Mac cried, though his blushing face betrayed him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The conversation with his trainer ran through his head as he sat in the corner. Aran Ryan sat across from him, stretching back with his leg bouncing.

The bell rang, and he was back in the ring. Aran growled, smiled, and swung. Little Mac blocked, and joined him when he tried to jump to the side.

"Listen, I need your help," he whispered.

"What?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. "We're fighting here, Mac! I'm only here to punch you!" He smiled devilishly as he showed off the horseshoe print in his glove. He then leaned the other way to sneak in a jab at his side. Mac, of course, dodged.

"No, but-" "Listen, Aran-" "I need-" Aran dodged every quote and snuck in a few hits here and there. Finally, a blow to the stomach finally got him.

"ARGH!" he yelled. "Fine! I'll ask you once the match is over! That sound good?!"

Aran paused. "Fine," he finally whispered.

"See that pretty girl in the crowd?" he asked, pointing his glove into the crowd behind him. Aran looked. "The blonde one in pink?"

"No, no, that one," he said, pointing to you. He looked.

"The (H/C)-haired one with the (favorite show/book/movie/video game) shirt?"

"Yep," Mac whispered, landing a fierce blow to the face to make it look like they were fighting. "She'll be the subject of our conversation."



XXXXX



"So, this lass. What about her?" Aran asked, slipping on an indigo sweatshirt while Mac leaned against the wall. "This (Y/N)."

"Well, the thing is, I, uh, kinda...like her. And I wanna tell her that, but I don't know how!"

Aran piped up. "That's it?! Oh, that's easy! First, you handcuff her to her bed-"

"GOODBYE!" Little Mac yelled, running out of the room with his bag over his shoulder.

XXXXX

"That's how I did it!" Disco Kid finished, smiling proudly.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I CANNOT DO THAT."

XXXXX

"Oh, so you don't have a girlfriend, Sandman? Please stop growling I'm sorry."

XXXXX

"I don't have multiple girlfriends, Super Macho Man. I can't just 'dump them all because I love her the most out of all of them'."

XXXXX

"I'm sorry for bringing up Carmen! I didn't know you guys broke up! Don, stop sobbing into my sweatshirt."

XXXXX

"Oh, so you don't have any experience with women? I should've guessed. Bye, Joe!"

XXXXX

"Popinski, she doesn't LIKE soda! I can't send fifty bottles to her house with a bouquet of soda bottles! And it would cost me so much!"

XXXXX

"Hey, Bald Bull, I -- WHOA! Whoa, sorry to interrupt, I'll just be going now. Return to your My Little Pony."

XXXXX

"Von Kaiser, I can't do that! I couldn't do it even if I wanted to, which I don't! I don't own a riding crop!"

XXXXX

"But I don't own a magic carpet..."

XXXXX

"As cool as that sounds, I can't whisk her away to a beautiful night, overlooking the city lights of Tokyo. I don't have a plane."

XXXXX

"FOR THE LAST TIME, (Y/N) IS NOT A BEAR!!"

XXXXX

"I'm sorry, but carrying her over my shoulder up a dangerous construction site with girders as paths seems kinda dangerous."

XXXXX

"Actually, that's not a bad idea! It's not too flashy, it's great! THANK YOU, KING HIPPO!"



Your P.O.V.



You didn't have time to put on any makeup before Little Mac came to your door. You were told by him to keep casual, so you simply slipped on a (F/C) hoodie and some baggie jeans. You heard a knocking at your door, and you rushed to the door and opened it. Little Mac stood there, in front of you, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, but with his trademark pink sweatshirt too. He pulled down the hood and smiled.

"Hey, (Y/N)! You look great!

"Don't ignore yourself!" you said, playfully punching his arm.

"C'mon, let's go," he said, nodding his head. You smiled and followed him.



Mac's P.O.V.



Mac couldn't believe it. You were right there with him. You looked so beautiful. Your (H/C) locks shining in the sun. Your eyes shining with happiness and the magnificence of the brightest (corresponding gemstone. Hearing you, seeing you, being NEAR you, was more security than any blanket. Hearing your shoes tap on the sidewalk, seeing you grin, Just being...you.

Finally, the sight he was looking for rose in the horizon. The local bakery. He grabbed your hand and dragged you along and into the store. The smell of freshly baked bread immediately filled his nose and he yanked you along to the cake section.

Everything was going according to plan.



Your P.O.V.



Why Little Mac was taking you into a bakery was beyond you, but you liked the scent. He pulled you to a self encased in glass, showing off the finest looking cakes. You looked up at him, expecting an explanation, but he blushed, and scratched the back of his neck.

"Y-You seemed kinda down lately, so I thought we'd get you something."

"Okay!" you said, accepting that as an answer. "Thanks!"

"Which one should we get? That one?" he asked, pointing to a round one with orange frosting.

"No," you replied.

"That one?" he pointed to a chocolate one with purple frosting and football rings on the outside.

"No."

"Hmmm..." You looked up to see Little Mac comically putting his hand on his chin and pouting his lip. He then perked up, and smiled at you.

"I have the perfect one," he said. He pulled you up to the main counter. "Excuse me?"

You had no idea what was going on, but you were just going to go along with it until you found out.

The manager came up and looked down at Little Mac. "Yes?"

"The 'Ifto Order', please," he replied.

The manager took a glance at you, smiled just the tiniest bit, and went to the back.

'Ifto Order'? Okay, now you were REALLY confused.

After a minute, the manager came back with a (F/F) cake with light (F/C) frosting. Little Mac took it gingerly, and proudly showed you the cake with a sheepish smile and a brighter blush than ever. You gasped when you saw the writing, written carefully with black icing.

A Boxer and her Fan
     Little Mac + (Y/N)

You covered your mouth, and tried your best to hold back tears as it all came crashing down on you. He loved you. He loved you as much as you love him.

Little Mac put the cake on a nearby table as you jumped into his arms and held him closer than any other.

"I love you so much, (Y/N)," he whispered into your shoulder.

"I love you too, Mac."

...

...

...

...

...

"By the way, Mac..."

"Yeah?"

"What does 'Ifto' mean?"

"It's an acronym."

"An acronym?  What does it stand for?"

"I Found The One."