*Husky*

she/her // 26 // cat girl twitch streamer with a praise kink // blue lock & haikyuu writer // minors dni // do not copy or repost works without credit

[bachissidehoe]

BachisSideHoe Masterlists

Blue Lock

Haikyuu

Other Anime

[pileofc4m]

(Based off @bachissidehoe post on nagireo)

AHHH my arty style keeps changing as I draw them, but I'll keep you updated on the other part! Sorry i didn't finish it all. I will update this as soon as possible! Keep up the writing.

[bachissidehoe]

OH MY GOD STOP IT RIGHT NOW HOW ADORABLE IS THIS😭😭

[bachissidehoe]

Reo had to get pretty creative to figure out how to motivate Nagi. It was shocking at first—nobody had ever challenged Reo on anything before. If Reo said it’s time to practice, everyone else would be up and ready early. Not Nagi. For the first time in Reo’s life, he had to convince someone to listen to him.

First it was treats, then ten more minutes of phone time, then gifts, then even the right to come to the following practice a half hour late. These ideas worked a few times, but Nagi, the spoiled bastard, stopped caring about those too.

Reo had to get more creative.

He offered piggy back rides. Nagi loved that one.

“You have to play today, Nagi.”

“Only if you carry me there.” He said, holding out his long arms as if he wasn’t the size of a bear.

Reo was smart enough to realize pretty quickly that Nagi seemed much more motivated by physical touch than anything he’d previously offered. So he took a gamble.

“Score today and I’ll come early tomorrow to cuddle with you before practice.” Fuck, it sounded so awkward. Not something teammates usually do.

But Reo was right. Nagi was more than happy to comply.

“Really?” And his eyes widened. Reo didn’t know if he’d ever seen Nagi so excited.

So Reo did what any good teammate would do—arrived to Nagi’s apartment in the wee hours of the morning to slide in bed with him, to let him mumble sweet sounding hellos and wrap his arms around Reo’s torso just to pull him closer. Every. Single. Morning.

“Why don’t you just stay over?” Nagi groaned, nestling his face in the crook of Reo’s neck. Reo could feel Nagi’s warm breath against his skin. God, he couldn’t help but squirm.

“Score again tomorrow, and I will.” Reo offered. He couldn’t help but notice the shakiness in his own voice.

“If I score a hat trick, will you kiss me?”

Reo short circuited.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Anything to keep his treasure motivated.

[bachissidehoe]

She was the type of girl who didn’t really get it. Sure, she was confident. Beautiful and she knew it. But she just didn’t get how often people looked at her, how they would fantasize about her soft body and pretty lips. She lived life like the world couldn’t touch her.

She moved to the city one summer, crashing in the extra bedroom of a large shared apartment. She didn’t know what to expect, she never did, but the world was a good place. Her roommates were nice guys, three soccer players. She could get along with a paper bag if the situation called for it, so she was never concerned about the quality of her roommates.

At least, she wasn’t concerned. Or perhaps, she should have considered other things besides getting along when selecting a place to live.

Maybe she should have considered how Nagi Seishiro fucks up into her, his surprising strength forcing her hips against his thighs. How he acted so lazy and unbothered, but his eyes sparkled with an unimaginable intensity when he watched tears prick the corners of her eyes. How he stopped caring when his “you can take it”s and “just like that, angel”s forced deep sobs out of her throat and choked murmurs into his mouth. God, Nagi Seishiro was relentless with her. He used her like a toy, lazily stripping her down to nothing one moment and fucking his hot cum into her tight little hole the next.

Maybe she should have considered that Isagi Yoichi would be there to pick up the pieces, at least, until she’d wake up with his hard cock rutting thoughtlessly into her backside. He’d apologize with a pair of pretty blue eyes and next thing she knew, he’d be holding her thighs above her head to hit that deep gummy spot. He fucking loved it, the soft blue in his eyes turning dark and electric, sputtering kind words that somehow still stung like venom. “Baby, so pretty,” and “good girl, fuck, so good for me” flooded the room, stealing her last bit of breath away.

Maybe she should have considered how Bachira Meguru would treat her body like a chew toy, refusing to go even a day without his mouth on her, in her. How he’d latch his lips around her puffy clit, his nails dug deep into the plush of her thighs while he coaxed a second, third orgasm out of her. His tongue felt like black magic, an addiction she kept crawling back to. His teeth sinking into her neck, his tongue swirling her sensitive nipples, his drool coating her thighs. And of course he’d put her mouth to good use too, fingers woven into her hair while his cock pounded the back of her throat. She choked down every inch, swallowing his words along with it “just a little longer, that’s my girl” and he’d groan and pant until he painted her tongue with his thick cream.

Maybe she should have considered this. But she didn’t.

[bachissidehoe]

Just imagining the blue lock boys having a full conversation about how big Nagi’s cock is and he just doesn’t care or realize

++++

Nagi Seishiro has never really cared enough to acknowledge superficial things like beauty. He’s oblivious to his own looks, his body type, the way his hair falls and how people might perceive him. It’s a hassle to think about, honestly. If he were to look at himself and conclude he’s ugly, it would just make him feel like he needed to do some action to make it not so. If he were to conclude the opposite, he would worry that the world demands more of him due to his beauty. And so- Nagi Seishiro decided not to care.

Until of course, meeting Reo changed his perspective.

After meeting Reo, the concept of beauty was practically forced down his throat. Becoming close with someone like Reo means, without a doubt, one must acknowledge his perfection. He’s beautiful in looks, in style, he’s good at everything, and his body is perfect.

Noticing these otherwise superficial things became accidentally unavoidable to Nagi after that. He suddenly found himself looking at others, noticing things about them, even noticing things about himself.

He realized he might be attractive, but not much compared to Reo. He realized he has a nice body naturally, though he hasn’t put the effort in nearly as much as Reo has. It’s a hassle to notice, and completely accidental, but unfortunately, a slice of Nagi’s brain started being occupied by these things anyway.

Sometimes, though, he’d catch conversations about things he’d never considered or noticed, one of which occurred while the guys at Blue Lock were bathing after a long day of training.

He honestly would much prefer to bathe alone, but there’s not much “alone” while in Blue Lock.

He floated calmly on his back, fading in and out of understanding the conversation topic. But- after his unfortunate recent awareness of the world around him, Nagi became painfully aware of multiple pairs of eyes watching him float.

He finally had to say something.

“Hm? Why is everyone staring at me?”

Awkward silence.

Nagi looked to Reo for support. Reo looked away, a slight blush dusting his face.

“Guys.” Nagi complained.

“Nagi…” Bachira spoke up, a devious smile tugging at his lips. He giggled. “Your dick is huge.”

“Bachira!” Isagi nudged him uncomfortably.

“What? Come on! Obviously that’s why we’re all looking.” Bachira argued. “Literally, never seen one so big before.”

This was the first time Nagi became aware of his dick being considered by anyone at all as something to look at. In fact, he can’t even recall ever conjuring an opinion about any dick ever.

“Oh…” Nagi looked down, his flacid cock flopped innocently on his bare stomach. Even soft, his tip nearly reached his belly button. “I guess.”

“How big is it?” Bachira asked.

“Bachira, you can’t just ask people how big their dick is.” Chigiri chimed in, nearly choking from holding back his laughter.

“Uh.” Nagi took his hand, placing one index finger at the tip, and his other index finger at the bottom of his shaft. He held up his two fingers, gesturing to the distance between them. “This big? Is that not normal?”

“Wait, you don’t know?” Chigiri was now interested.

“I’m kinda wondering too.” Isagi chuckled.

“You’ve never measured it hard?” Bachira asked.

“Well, no.” Nagi answered.

Reo finally pushed past his obvious discomfort to come to Nagi’s defense. “Come on guys, not everyone takes a ruler to it.”

“But if it’s that big I probably would.” Bachira giggled.

“You’re awfully interested in Nagi’s cock, Bachira.” Isagi poked his shoulder.

“Yeah Bachira, you trying to see if you can fit it all or something?” Chigiri laughed.

“Maybe I am.” Bachira stuck his tongue out and giggled.

“Oh come on.” Reo rolled his eyes.

“Fit it all where?” Nagi finally stepped out of the tub, sitting on the side.

“Hah!” Kunigami finally laughed, he couldn’t help himself.

“Just put it away, Nagi.” Reo tossed a towel over his lap.

[bachissidehoe]

it’s so cute how rin tries to act unbothered, forcing an expressionless pout even when you’re pressed against his side, your pretty tits brushing against his arms. he knows it’s on purpose, but he insists on keeping it together. even when you’re laying on his bed in those cute little shorts, legs spread wide enough that rin can tell you’re not wearing any panties, he purses his lips together and looks away. you find it adorable how he pretends not to care, no matter how you tease him. but like clockwork, rin unwinds. so calculated, so expected.

you watch him try to keep it together when your dripping cunt drools down his thick shaft. god, you get so damn wet watching him unravel. he’s so gorgeous, his bangs clumped together against his forehead, his tongue slightly poking between his lips, his hands balled up in fists beside him. he doesn’t last long either, holding back gasps and grunts as he looks anywhere but your eyes. but you don’t care, you never do, you’ll fuck him until he drops his shitty little attitude, until he’s shaking under you while his cum stains his own damn thighs.

[bachissidehoe]

How they go down on you [wbk] [f!reader]

feat. Sakura, Suo, Kiryu, Umemiya, Tsubaki, Kaji

Sakura is so shy and nervous, but he still can’t escape the desire plastered all over his face when you ask him to taste you. “It’s okay~” you breathe, tangling your fingers in his hair, “I’ll guide you.” Cute Sakura, inching his tongue slowly from between his lips, just to pull back immediately when you tense up and squeeze your legs together. “No, no baby, fuck,” you chuckle, “it’s just sensitive, keep going.” As you go, he continues to build confidence, feeding off the way you tighten your grip in his hair when he flicks his tongue the way you like it. You tell him he can take breaks if it’s too hard, but he refuses, burying his entire face in your pussy as he shakes his head no, his tongue sweeping across your throbbing clit at the same time. As soon as Sakura knows you’re close, not even your thrashing can pry his lips from your pretty pussy, his eyes screwed shut and his face flushed, feeling you clench tightly around his pretty tongue.

Suo thinks about your body day and night, always looking for an opportunity to taste the pretty juices your body makes when he calls you his sweet, good girl. He’ll tease you all day just to make you beg for his tongue later. And fuck, you do beg, letting him ruin your body with pretty little purple bruises while you whine for him to please just taste you. He wears that smirk the whole time too, just so you know he has full control over that shaky little body of yours. And when he finally swirls his tongue around your sopping wet hole, he doesn’t let you forget how much you love this, until you’re moaning at every flick of his tongue. Suo controls your entire body like you’re simply a toy- from holding you in place, to making your thighs shake, to edging you until you’re begging for your release. Don’t worry, he won’t make you hold out for too long.

Kiryu loves spending time worshipping your body. He moves slow, soaking up your gasps, watching your nose scrunch and your mouth hang open when he kisses you in a spot you like. He kisses your pretty pussy once, then watches it leak while he teases the rim with his fingers. Poor Kiryu isn’t trying to tease you, he just loves every inch of you- he wants to savor every move you make. He’ll move up to your chest, letting his fingers slide around in the puddle beneath you while his mouth works on your tits, toying with you until you’re begging him “please, please stop teasing, please make me cum~” Kiryu smiles against your tits, the metal of his tongue piercing gliding across your sensitive skin. “So impatient, baby.” But he wants you so bad, he can’t help but comply with your request, instantly sliding a finger inside you while his tongue works on your clit. In seconds you’re unraveling all over him, and with a cute little smirk, he’s right back to leaving kisses and licks on every inch of your pretty body.

Umemiya is somehow good at everything, and pleasuring you is no exception. He’s so sweet and kind at first, swiftly trailing his lips from your cheek to your collarbone, soaking up the taste and smell of your perfect skin. But when you start squirming and whining for more, the sweetheart Ume’s switch flips in an instant, his eyes burning with a passion you rarely have the pleasure of seeing. He’s quick, sporadic, and eccentric with his movements, his lips suckling at your clit one second and thrusting his tongue inside you the next. It’s impossible to figure him out- all you can do is whine, moaning his name, thrashing against his wet tongue until he’s forced to hold your thighs in place. And Ume has stamina- unconcerned with how long his tongue must remain flicking at your clit and his fingers must remain plunged into your deepest depths. It’s all about pleasing you- in a way you can’t even comprehend until your eyes roll back and your body shakes.

Tsubaki kindly offered his expertise after hearing you rant “I feel like men just never know how to make me feel good.” It was enough to inspire Tsubaki-chan, who was absolutely determined to be the only guy you’ve ever had who could do it right. And damn did he surprise you- his tongue like magic sweeping down your entire body, leaving a trail of wispy tingles on your chest, your stomach, finally between your thighs. It’s like your gasps and whines fueled him- Tsubaki easily picked up on what you liked best and capitalized. Not too rough or too soft, weaving seamlessly between worlds like your pussy was a gateway to a different dimension. He’s so sweet with you too, pausing to sweetly kiss your inner thigh and tell you how much he loves being the only one to make you feel like this.

Kaji is so quiet when he first starts with you, preferring a slow start with soft kisses to your lips and neck. He’s surprisingly sweet and calm, using the taste of your body to relax. When he finally makes it down to your twitching pussy, he takes his time cleaning you up, swallowing every last drop of your arousal and sucking even more out of you. His hands wrap tightly around your thighs to keep you spread while he eats you, messier and messier by the second until the sweet, soft Kaji is fully replaced by his ravenous, dangerous alter. It’s only a matter of time before your pussy is spitting globs of cum into his mouth, begging him to slow down on your oversensitive clit. But Kaji knows you better, and he knows even more how fucking good you taste when you’re overstimulated. And he’ll eat you until he’s gotten everything he needs.

[bachissidehoe]

What they sound like (nsfw) | wbk

feat. sakura, suo, kiryu, kaji

Sakura tries desperately not to make a sound at all, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth clenched so hard they might break. Every move of your pretty tongue makes it more impossible for him to choke back those loud moans he’s been holding. The poor thing is flushed, his cheeks burning a shade of pink as deep as his wet tongue hanging out of his mouth. Poor Sakura, his breathing is so loud and desperate he’s nearly coughing to suppress his whines. You can’t help but smirk, your tongue twirling around his leaky tip with the sole purpose of making him let go for you. His nose scrunches, his toes curl- and he chokes out a breathy, raspy “i, i-!” before he gasps, filling your mouth to the brim. Pretty boy, you’d take those soft, desperate, suppressed gasps any day for this chance to taste him.

Suo can’t help but be dominant with you, his low, sultry voice filling his dirty words with venom against your soft skin. He loves to toy with you, teasing you heartlessly just to chuckle at your desperation, his finger tracing light circles around your soaking cunt just to pull it away again. “But baby, it’s so pretty when you cry for it,” he says in a whisper. And when the gorgeous boy finally coaxes tears from your eyes and slides a finger inside you- he moans along with you, guiding your voice into his own. He’s so sadistic, the way he ruins you just to take care of you shortly thereafter, and he wears his proud grin on his face like a damn trophy. “Ah, pretty girl, cum for me, yeah?” And of course, you do.

Kiryu is unapologetic with his noises, the pretty boy wouldn’t mind if the whole damn world could hear. Every move you make is met with a guttural moan, every flick of your tongue earns a sputter of “fuck~”’s and “good girl~”’s. He loves to praise you, though he can’t help but let a few degrading names slip off his tongue once in a while. “That’s my pretty slut, pretty baby~” his delightfully seductive voice practically controlling all your movements to his liking. Kiryu basically never shuts his damn mouth unless your lips are pressed desperately against his, and even then he’s still breathing his moans down your throat.

Kaji always starts so quiet, hardly making a sound as you kiss his neck, down his chest and sink your teeth into his stomach. Just hushed gasps of pleasure with his hands raking through your hair. It’s not until you have his tip flushed and leaking globs of precum onto your pretty tongue that he loses it, suddenly going from soft and quiet to choking on his moans, gripping your hair, and whimpering obscenities as your throat swallows the base of his thick shaft. Poor Kaji can’t even say a full word before his voice is captured by another erotic whimper- “fu~ ahhh~ mmm~” he spits, beads of drool following the moans out of his mouth. “Bab~ shi- fff- baby- i~ ahhh~” he can’t stop, letting his entire body succumb to the beautiful pleasure you give him.

[bachissidehoe]

Thinking about how sweet it would be if Rin's never tasted a girl before- he's just playing with you, nervously tracing his fingers over your pretty little pussy, mumbling about how wet you are for him. You whine, your legs shaky and your mouth hung open, letting him plunge his fingers deep inside you, watching how your eyes flutter when he makes a move you like. He's so cute when he finally asks you if he can please go down on you, letting you thread your fingers into his hair to guide his head where you want it. He lightly glides his pretty tongue up the length of your soaked hole, letting your sweetness sink into his tastebuds. Instantly, your cute little Rin is hooked on you- your taste, your pussy twitching with every perfect flick of his tongue, your fingers knotting into his hair. God it's so adorable, he's never done it before, but he just wants to make you feel good. He can't help but moan into you, soaking you up, stopping only to take long, deep breaths, asking you over and over if he's doing a good enough job. He wants to make you cum so bad, it doesn't matter how rough you're thrashing his head around, how you're wrapping your legs around him, how you're fucking onto his tongue until he's gasping for air. He loves it, he's addicted to your taste, your pretty juices dripping down his chin and coating every part of his tongue. He's so inexperienced, but it's so damn cute how he eats you like he never wants to leave- he lets you move him, he begs you to talk more, to tell him how you're feeling. He can feel you twitching around his fingers every time he needs a breath, whining desperately in his absence. Poor inexperienced Rin, he laps at you like he'll never get to taste you again, burning your sweetness into the depths of his memory.

[bachissidehoe]

Cute Isagi Yoichi, who calls you sweet names and rubs your back so softly, he just loves to see your face turn down in an ever so slight blush, your lips glistening pink and your eyes sparkling with the memory of his compliments.

“there’s my good girl”

“my perfect angel”

“pretty little sweetheart”

And those sweet names don’t dissipate even when your face is buried deep in his mattress- despite his relentless thrusts and his hands squeezing deep purple bruises into your hips and ass. God he loves how you cry out his name, how your fingers turn white from gripping the sheets so hard, how your thighs tremble under the weight of his thick cock and unforgiving hands.

“fuck, pretty girl”

He loves when you beg- though you don’t know if you’re begging for him to stop or to continue- but your sputtered whimpers make such a beautiful song. Those sweet names are just a sultry venom now, a reminder of how little remorse he feels for your shaking legs, your chattering teeth, the bruises and bites riddling your body with holes.

“angel, you love it. beautiful princess, look at you”

It doesn’t matter how Isagi Yoichi taunts you with such pretty words, your body still crumbles over and over again, tipping over yet another mountain’s edge you hadn’t realized was there.

[bachissidehoe]

Thinking about an inexperienced Kenma, the poor thing never even kissed a girl, dragged to a college party by his roommate Kuroo just to get out of the small apartment for once- a scared little virgin kitty with a nervous look in his eyes, trying to avoid the height of the alcohol infused party at all costs. And you, the perceptive woman you are, you can spot that inexperience from a mile away, such a pretty boy like him shouldn’t go untouched for so long. Taking him upstairs wouldn’t be hard at all, you have a private bathroom in your room you could offer him. And the poor kitten, he’s such a virgin he can’t handle the sight of your panties strewn out on the floor of the bathroom without his cock straining desperately against the thin fabric of his pants. And the inexperienced Kenma, the poor thing, he’d be so shocked when you sit him on your unmade bed and free that thick cock so you can taste him. Poor Kenma- he’s so touch-starved that he can’t even handle how warm and wet your pretty mouth is, his tip full and his length heavy and twitching on your lips. Even a few squeezes of his shaft is enough to send him over the edge, apologetically spilling a hot load down your throat before he can even warn you. But the poor thing, the little kitten, he’s hard again just from seeing you swallow every last drop of his milk. You can make him cum again, surely, by letting him feel your tight little hole gripping his full cock. Poor Kenma, he can’t even look at you, his eyes screwed shut and his hips bucking against your rough ride. The desperate little kitten can’t even hold himself together, whining and whimpering with his mouth wide open, taking in the ecstasy of your cunt sucking him further and further in. Poor little Kenma would be practically milked dry by the time you’re done with him, stumbling back to the party on shaky legs. The poor thing would think about you all the time too, finding himself flushed and his cock heavy and straining. He would become addicted to you so fast.

[bachissidehoe]

in which you're Reo's princess, and Nagi's his treasure. (w.c. 1049)

At first, you found it strange the way Nagi Seishiro would so casually throw his arm around your shoulder and hold you close to his chest. You were Reo’s girlfriend, after all. The girlfriend of his best friend.

“What are you playing?”

He sighed. “It would be a hassle to explain. You can watch though.”

And you did. You sat next to him on the couch, forcing your gaze past his toned muscles and shaggy, tangled hair to watch his little mobile game.

“Come here. It’s hard to play when you’re leaning on my arm.”

And he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side so he could access his screen better. Apparently, this position made him more mobile.

You were flushed. You didn’t think something like this would be allowed. You were nestled into the gorgeous, soft body of your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Oh cute! My princess and my treasure.”

That’s all Reo had said when he saw you. It surprised you, to say the least.

But it’s not like you were complaining. Where lying on Reo’s chest was warm, Nagi’s was cool. Where Reo was obvious with his praise, Nagi was nonchalant. You found yourself wanting the affection of both of them, in a weird way.

And it started to be less surprising when Nagi asked to hold you. In fact, you started to hope he would.

“Your thighs are soft, like pillows. I need a nap.”

And Nagi collapsed, right there on your thighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. So calm.

“Aren’t they?” Reo agreed from the opposite couch, encouraging the physicality.

What the two didn’t notice was how you shifted in your seat, affected by the warm breaths that dusted your inner thighs. It wouldn’t be comfortable for the snowy haired boy to sleep in a puddle, so you held on for dear life, your hands clenched around the fabric of the couch rather than tangled in his messy hair.

You hadn’t realized the effect Nagi Seishiro really had on you. How his subtle, casual affection had trained you to become a secret mess for him. For your boyfriend’s best friend.

But Reo- your smart, charismatic, beautiful boyfriend- he had realized. In fact, he’d been encouraging this for a reason.

“You’re bothered, aren’t you princess?”

For a moment you thought you may be in trouble. It’s wrong to get turned on by your boyfriend’s best friend. But the look on Reo’s face, the devious smirk, said otherwise.

So you nodded.

“How cute.” He moved to hover over you, Nagi still restful on your thighs. “My princess and my treasure get along so well.”

It became pretty obvious what your boyfriend wanted after that. You just didn't realize how you didn't notice it before. The way he looked at Nagi. The way he encouraged you two. He wanted Nagi just as badly as you did.

The burning growing between your thighs wasn't enough for just Reo to satisfy anymore. And he knew that.

"Princess, hm? That what you want me to call her too, Reo?" Nagi mumbled, his groggy eyes opening just enough to look up at your flushed face.

"You should." Reo pulled Nagi upward by his shirt, removing him from the comfortable spot he created on your thighs.

Nagi complained the whole way up, of course, he was never one to enjoy being forced out of a cozy position.

"You should also let her ride you." Reo smirked, bringing Nagi's face close to his, nearly touching his lips.

You gulped.

But Nagi Seishiro was less than nervous, the nonchalant type of person he was. He only glanced back at you, not struggling at all under your boyfriend's tight hold on his shirt.

"Yeah fine." Nagi agreed.

It was hard for you to tell whether Nagi really wanted to fuck you, whether he was interested in you at all or if he wanted to shut Reo up. But as it turned out, Nagi Seishiro was stubborn and ruthless. He wanted you just as badly, his cock constantly straining against his shorts whenever you were close to him, wanting any excuse to stuff his face into your pretty thighs. But he'd never admit it.

Not until you were bouncing on his thick cock, mouth hung open and hands relentlessly tugging on his hair. Right there on that couch. With your wet cunt soaking him, your movements squeezing juices into a messy coating for Nagi's bare thighs.

That's when Nagi Seishiro decided to be honest. "Fuck, I needed you. Fuck~ yes I need~ ah-"

And Reo couldn't have been happier about the beautiful scene he created. "You don't mind, hm? Can't expect me to just watch." He lined up behind you, letting his familiar, flushed tip plunge into the depths of your unused hole, forcing you to lean forward onto Nagi's chest.

"I'll get ya both off. Fuck~" Reo spat, his thrusts creating the friction both you and Nagi so desperately craved, your heavy breaths mixing into each other in the small space between you.

And you kissed him, because you couldn't help it. Your sloppy, drooly lips pressed to Nagi's in a desperate display of hunger.

As it turned out, Reo had been thinking about this for a long time. Longer than you had. Longer than the stubborn Nagi Seishiro had.

He rocked his hips in perfect rhythm, your cunt sliding and squeezing around Nagi's perfect cock while your ass was lubed and stuffed by your pretty boyfriend.

Reo was right about getting you both off, too. It took him practically no time, with your clit rubbing against Nagi's skin and the friction forcing Nagi's tip into your g-spot over and over again, it wasn't difficult. But that didn't matter to Reo, he never specified how many times he expected to get you two off. And it became clear very quickly that once wasn't enough for him.

He'd been holding back his desires for too long, he deserved to see you shaking, tears streaming down your face, cum dripping from all your holes. He deserved to see Nagi fucked out, hair sticking to his forehead, arms wrapped around you and lips attached to your bruised neck.

Your boyfriend deserved that much. After how long you made him wait to fuck his princess and his treasure.

[bachissidehoe]

when nagi seishiro cums,

it's like heaven itself blessed her glassy eyes and sensitive ears with the perfect scene. He'd tricked her before by making her fall under the false pretense that he might not even want to fuck her- the lazy snowy haired boy had just casually shrugged his way through the encounter, doing everything he could to avoid putting in any amount of effort.

But then he hit that spot, a spot so perfectly gummy and wet that he just couldn't help but grip her hips and unforgivingly flip her onto her back. It was so quick that she didn't even realize it, but suddenly she was certain he wanted to fuck her. His eyes were like stars poking through a foggy sky, his mouth parted with enough space between his lips for desperate moans and "fuck"s to escape. He was perfect, and he fucked her so damn good.

She thought it couldn't get any better- with his arms wrapped around her thighs, pulling her entire body to meet his thrusts- with droplets of sweat starting to appear at the tips of his hair. He began to speed up, his thrusts sloppy and his breaths caught in the back of his throat, his voice spitting out the whiniest version of "I'm close..." that she could fathom, and he came. Hard.

It's the most ethereal thing, to watch Nagi hold his thick cock in his hand, squeezing around the tip as spurts of white hot cum coat her chest and stomach. He holds his head back, his tongue dangling from his lips like an animal, adamant on letting his soul circulate through heaven and back. And his desperate moans- unapologetic and lude, reverberating off the walls and gifting her ears with a sound she hopes to revisit every night after this one.

When Nagi Seishiro cums, he's absolutely perfect.

[bachissidehoe]

put some clothes on

chapter 11 of it's classy, not classic [bachisagi] (final chapter)

It was unrealistic for Isagi and Bachira to expect they’d actually have a full week together to extract all the time they’ve been secretly craving. Isagi has practice, interviews, team activities, the same as always. And Bachira has work, he has to pack up his apartment (which Isagi visited for the first time only two days ago- to help him move some larger furniture), and he has meetings with sponsors and clients for custom work, the same as always. 

It was a fleeting, rose-colored look at how life would change when the two of them finally admitted their feelings for each other. But neither of them have had the courage to talk about it either. Neither have sat down and asked the dreaded question- “What are we?” Not even Bachira has bit the bullet and started the uncomfortable conversation, and since Bachira hasn’t, Isagi wouldn’t dare. Instead, they’ve continued to act like this last week is the only week they have left, and any moment they’ve spent together (besides the few hours where they were focused on moving Bachira’s furniture) has been spent all over each other, desperately clawing at each other’s bodies like it’s the last sexually charged experience they’ll ever get. 

Isagi tangles his fingers in Bachira’s hair at every opportunity, gripping those pretty blonde highlights like anything less would stop his heart right there. Bachira pointed that out to him too, shortly after the furniture moving experience, when they inevitably made it back to Isagi’s living room couch. 

“You pull my hair like your life depends on it.” He gasped. 

Bachira had decided that day that Isagi deserved to know what it feels like to be inside him. Isagi’s tight little hole can’t be the only one to keep taking Bachira’s thick fingers and toys, it’s about time Isagi got a turn with Bachira’s pretty body. 

“Aren’t I-” Isagi gulped. “The bottom?” 

He knew Bachira would laugh at him, and his guess was immediately proven correct. “Of course you are! The bottom doesn’t always mean the one getting fucked, remember?” He lifted Isagi’s chin with his finger, taunting him the way he always does, dangling his lips over his like a treat Isagi hasn’t earned yet. 

“Let me fuck myself on you.” Bachira whispered, the hottest phrase Isagi Yoichi had heard to date. Though- that number one spot has been getting replaced quite frequently over the past week.

Isagi nodded, already showing his desperation through his lurch forward toward Bachira’s lips. There’s only a finite number of kisses he can get, and he’ll get them. 

So Bachira did fuck himself on Isagi, expertly riding his thick cock, his ass bouncing up and down repeatedly on Isagi’s thighs, filling the air with his breathless moans and grunts. His own hard cock slaps on Isagi’s stomach, small beads of precum flinging into the air with every sharp thrust. And of course, Isagi grips Bachira’s hair, prompting Bachira’s comment about that habit, not that he was complaining. Bachira loves a little pain, especially hair pulling. Isagi learned that pretty fast, filing it away in his designated Bachira brain rot folder to utilize for next time. He’s started using his fingernails more, and his teeth too, sucking and biting on parts of Bachira’s pretty body where only he can see the remnants. 

Isagi didn’t last, but they both expected that. His first time having this kind of sex, a hole so tight and warm, he couldn’t hold himself back. He watched his cum spill out, breathing with his mouth parted, marveling at the pretty sight. Bachira’s flushed face, his fucked little hole, his cock twitching on Isagi’s stomach. 

“Hold on~ mmmh~” Bachira whined. “A little more~” He hummed, grinding his hips hard onto Isagi’s cum-soaked cock. “It’s a good spot- the best spot- fuck Yoichi~” He mumbled, but Isagi noted every word, memorizing his face, storing it in the deepest depths of his memories. He’s thought about it every hour since, even though it was only two days ago. The way Bachira came too, Isagi can’t get it out of his head. How pretty he looked, how his hole squeezed around him, how he wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock, holding blurred eye contact with Isagi while coating his stomach with his sticky cum. It made Isagi desperate for a feeling like that, desperate enough to beg Bachira to stay here with him tonight, their last night, to forget the stupid toys and give it all to him.

“You- ah- can go more~” Isagi moans, looking up at Bachira from his position flat on his back, his thighs tied up in Bachira’s strong arms as his cock presses harder into his tight little hole. 

And he does, his golden eyes glowing in the small streak of moonlight that peeks through Isagi’s bedroom window. “Fuck-” Bachira sucks in through his gritted teeth, his nails digging deeper into Isagi’s thighs, adding to the plethora of deep nail marks that already decorate them. 

Isagi moans out- loud- louder than Bachira’s heard before. “Megu~” He thrashes his hands, finding a grip on Bachira’s wrist briefly before digging them back into the sheets. Perhaps the sheets have been through the most this week, at the start they were nearly brand new, and now they’re riddled with little holes and rips from Isagi’s constant need to grip them. 

“Keep at that-” Bachira breathes, his cock nearly half way into Isagi’s ass. He watches it, too, eyes trained on the way his thick shaft disappears more and more as the wet squelching sounds of lube add an even more erotic ambiance. “It’s hot when you say my name like that.” He’s struggling to speak himself, grasping for breaths he doesn’t even have, and they’ve barely gotten started. 

Isagi’s cock twitches against his own stomach, a bead of precum oozing from his angry red tip. Those pretty lashes flutter with every slight movement Bachira makes, his arms thrashing as his chest heaves from the mixture of pain and pleasure. 

They shouldn’t be here yet, but it’s their last night together. “Please fuck me, just once. I don’t care if it hurts.” Isagi begged. He’s hardly used to the feeling, but he needs to have it, he needs this, even though he hasn't been able to take a vibrator even close to Bachira’s size yet. 

But the way he looked at Bachira, pleading “I need it”, it was impossible to refuse. Even when Isagi whined out in pain from the thicker, more intense vibrators, he agreed to fuck him. And even now, when he sees tears brimming in the corners of Isagi’s eyes, a small streak of blood spilling from his tight little hole, he still fucks him. Isagi’s begging cock tells him all he needs to know. 

“Meguru~” He gasps. “It’s good.” He loves the pain, especially when the thick skin of Bachira’s cock bunches up around his hole, his tip twitching as he continues to inch more of himself inside him. 

“Maybe it’ll hurt less if you sit on it?” Bachira breathes, fingernails still trained into Isagi’s thighs. 

“No.” Isagi sniffles. “I love it like this.” 

“You’re um,” Bachira holds himself back, feeling Isagi’s little hole squeeze around him, nearly sending him into a frenzy. “You’re bleeding a little.” Even knowing how badly Isagi wants this, he still feels concerned. It’s only been a week of them doing things like this, there’s still the possibility that Isagi’s forcing himself to be ready for Bachira’s sake. 

“Good.” Isagi’s eyes snap shut, letting the pain and pleasure wash over his body. He probably won’t last long, and Bachira hasn’t even started moving inside him yet. But it still feels so damn good, Isagi’s not letting this moment slip no matter how much it costs him. 

“Hm.” Bachira feels a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Isagi looks so helpless. Knowing that he’s the one applying this pain. “Alright then, try not to cry too loud.” He breathes, even though a part of him hopes he does cry too loud.

With a bit more lube, Bachira begins thrusting, his tip fucking into Isagi’s sweet spot with every slight movement. 

Isagi’s mouth hangs open, moaning and whining with strings of drool cascading down his chin. Bachira can’t imagine a prettier sight. 

It doesn’t take long for Isagi to cum without warning, thick white ropes coating his own chest and stomach. His entire body feels too many sensations to process when his orgasm overtakes him, instead making a mess of himself while blubbering pleas and whimpers. 

“Don’t- hmmm~ stop-” Isagi hums, his eyes fully snapped shut as he begs for Bachira to continue ramming into him, practically rearranging his insides at this point. 

Bachira can’t continue to care about the potential pain Isagi is in, watching him squirm and beg is too much for his demonic brain- overrun with arousal. Seeing the milky white cum slide down Isagi’s skin and drool and sweat covering his entire body is too much to pass up. 

Every thrust is like a new trip to heaven, those tight walls hugging him and begging him to stay. It’s so warm in there, wet and gummy from the lube. And this will be the last time, too, so it’s hard for Bachira to stop his relentless thrusts. 

“Y’can- fuck- y’can take it~” Bachira grunts, pounding into him while he moans out from the overstimulation, his cock already hard again only seconds after cumming. “I’m almost-” 

“Ah~ please~” Isagi whines, tears fully streaming down his face as another load dribbles out of his leaking tip, his entire body shaking from the force of his overstimulation orgasm. 

And Bachira pulls out, coating Isagi’s stomach with a breathy release, messily spraying him until he’s decorated in white. He gasps, his moans caught in the back of his throat as he squeezes every last drop out of his throbbing cock. The two breathe heavily, sweat dripping down their faces and eyes brimmed with tears. 

“Bachi-”

Bachira looks up, meeting Isagi’s tired eyes, pain evident in his expression. Even Bachira’s sharp gaze stops him instantly, forcing Isagi to reconsider what he was going to say. He’s overwhelmed anyway, he’s gonna be feeling the pain soon, he should enjoy the rest of this moment. 

“Meguru.” He smiles. 

“Better.” Bachira grins. 

“This uh-” Isagi looks down, afraid to move or he’ll drip cum all over his bed. “I need help-” 

“Hah!” Bachira chuckles, standing up and running his fingers through his sweaty hair. What a gorgeous sight he is, his toned body glowing with sparkling beads of sweat, his hair stuck to his face and blonde highlights peeking out under his dark top layer. And that little smirk, that same gorgeous smirk that shows just enough of his teeth, Isagi can hear Bachira’s unwavering ego. “Let me help ya.”

Bachira tenderly wipes Isagi clean, ruffling his hair and placing small kisses to his lips and chest.

“Now put some clothes on.” He winks. 

+++++

This isn’t the end Isagi was expecting when he first signed up for this, when he first told that stupid lie. But if he didn’t, none of this would ever have happened. He wouldn’t be holding back tears while saying his final goodbye to Bachira Meguru. 

All Bachira does is wave, flashing Isagi a smile and a peace sign as he boards the train. No kiss, no hug, just a pretty smile. In fact, everything that morning was mostly silent, barely any conversation, no final confession of love, no discussion of everything that happened over the last week. Isagi should have expected that, they’re “broken up” now, with a post scheduled in a few days to announce the painful separation. 

If Isagi never lied, this wouldn’t suck so much. 

But all he can do is go about his life, with an understanding that this chapter is over. Sure, he can reach out to Bachira, tell him that he misses him, but what would that do? 

Even Rin, who perhaps cares the least about Isagi of anyone he chooses to keep in his life, shares a pitiful glance during practice. It makes Isagi sick- that he’s being pitied for a shitty situation he created. Especially by Rin. Rin should feel bad for Bachira, if anyone. 

“Why exactly did you have to end it?” Rin asks. “I know it was fake, but-” 

“It was fake. So it had to end eventually.” Isagi sighs, shaking out his wet hair. “Well, the post goes out tomorrow. Then it’s officially done.” 

“But you like him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Isagi says it without hesitation. So little hesitation that he surprises himself.

“You know that nobody cares about your little relationship anymore besides you, right?” Rin scoffs, tossing a towel at Isagi’s bare chest. 

Somehow, that’s surprising to Isagi. He’s spent the better part of a few months assuming that the world is extremely invested in his personal life. Every post he’s made, the first practice kissing session, the public appearances together, it’s been because people care. Or at least, they used to care. At some point. 

“Well-” Isagi starts, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t have anything to say. 

“They were excited at first, but the world has moved on. It doesn’t matter if you break up or not.” 

“He’s moved away now, though.” Isagi looks down, already choked up at the thought of it. He hasn’t done much crying on his own, but for some reason Rin being here makes it hard to hold it back. It’s not like he has anyone to talk to about this besides Rin, since nobody else he’s close to knows the full story, not even his parents.

“Just do long distance. You’re both rich as fuck and can go see each other whenever.” For someone giving such helpful, well-thought-out advice, Rin certainly says it like he hates Isagi and everything he stands for. But that’s just Rin, Isagi’s come to appreciate it. 

“I- but-” Isagi stutters, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “This was always the plan.” 

“Sometimes you’re so fucking dumb. I feel bad for Bachira.” Rin rolls his eyes. “You know he’s in love with you too, right?” 

For some reason, Isagi can’t respond to that. He really doesn’t know, he really doesn’t see it as obvious. Sure, Bachira has seemed to enjoy Isagi’s company, but it always seemed like he was doing it as a favor and to keep Hiro off his back. Even if Bachira did have feelings for him, Isagi has assumed he’d be better off not having them, therefore, Isagi should have to endure the gut wrenching feeling of losing him. 

“Huh.” Isagi chokes. As it turns out, even when he tries to do things for Bachira’s sake, he’s still selfish. 

The post doesn’t go out the next day. Even after writing and rewriting a sad statement that left Isagi’s phone drenched in tears, the finished product remains confined to Isagi’s notes app. 

Megu: no post?

It’s the simplest text ever, and one Isagi should have expected. He never actually told Bachira that he wouldn’t be making that post. In fact, he hasn’t talked to Bachira at all since that final little wave before he got on the train. 

Yoichi: nah.

It’s the only thing he can think to respond with. 

Megu: oh alright

Megu: why not?

Megu: everything ok?

Maybe Isagi didn’t quite think this one through. 

Yoichi: long distance fake dating isn’t so hard to believe?

Isagi holds his phone against his chest, his hands nearly shaking as he stares blankly at his ceiling. 

Megu: huh

Incoming Call: Megu

Isagi nearly hyperventilates. The vibration of his ringing phone may as well be one million tiny needles stabbing through his uncontrolled hands. 

“Hello?” He answers, immediately cursing himself for his shaky voice. 

“Why don’t we just long distance real date?” Bachira asks on the other end. 

Silence.

Isagi can’t even process a statement like that right now. This is the first time he’s heard Bachira’s voice since he left, and it’s to ask him out? They’ve basically been acting like a couple for a long time, it shouldn’t be far fetched. They’ve been intimate with each other, it’s not like it’s impossible that Bachira wants this. Even Rin said it. 

“Huh?” Isagi squeaks. 

“I want to date you.” Bachira says confidently. 

“But-” Isagi chokes. “You’re gone.” 

Stupid excuse.

“Do you want to date me, Yoichi?” He asks, ignoring Isagi’s stupid protests. 

Silence. 

“My plan stays the same, it’s important to me to work from here for at least a year or so. You’re going to start traveling again a lot once international tournaments start. But does it matter?” Bachira continues, a slight hint of shakiness in his voice.

“You want to date me?”

“Yes.” Bachira answers instantly. “More than I want anything else.” 

Isagi gulps. “I do too.” 

Bachira laughs from the other end of the phone. It sends a warmth through Isagi’s body, calming the shakiness in his nerves. “I was worried you’d never admit it.” 

So he noticed it. The fact that Isagi’s been desperately trying to hold back. 

“I want to date you. And be your boyfriend.” Isagi repeats, more confidently this time. “And I miss you.” 

“I miss you too. It’s nice to hear you.” 

Suddenly, Isagi’s completely relaxed. Bachira has that effect on him- to make him feel instantly better. He doesn’t ever want to let that go. Now that they’re talking, now that Isagi can see the situation for what it is, so much becomes clear. He wanted to follow the original plan, assuming that’s what Bachira would want too, but he never stopped to think about what Bachira really feels. 

“I guess there was no reason for us to stop talking.” Isagi chuckles. 

“I hope we never have to.” 

“Yeah.” Isagi sighs, clutching the phone against his ear, like if he lets it go even a little bit, he may lose access to Bachira’s pretty voice forever.

“Look for me at your next game.” 

So Isagi does, scanning the audience for his pretty boyfriend. And he finds him, sporting a #11 jersey and that devilish smile. He’ll never play soccer, he’ll never reach his ultimate dream, he’ll come to Isagi’s games and feel constant pangs of pain in his chest for the life that was ripped from him. 

That fact alone makes Isagi emotional, he may always feel guilty for getting to live his dream. But Bachira is still here anyway. He’s still smiling. He’s still cheering. He’s still standing against the front row of the stadium calling Isagi’s name. 

“Meguru!” Isagi practically sprints, wanting to share his success with one person and one alone- his boyfriend. “I love you!” He cheers, a smile on his face and a spark of confidence in his intense eyes. 

Bachira smiles even wider. 

“I love you too, you egoist.”

END

[bachissidehoe]

lovely

chapter 10 of it's classy, not classic [bachisagi]

“One week!” Bachira barges into Isagi’s apartment, no different from how he usually does it.

Isagi stands in front of him, his eyes shifting back and forth, wondering how Bachira continues to remain unfazed by everything that’s happened between them in the past couple days. He shouldn’t be so confused, Bachira is always like this. His dream of playing soccer was ruined and he stopped wallowing and turned it into something new- Isagi would never be that resilient. 

“One week,” Isagi says with a breath, sounding much less excited than Bachira is. “Until you leave.” He finishes. Yeah, he’s definitely not excited about it. 

This one week they have together marks one week left of their fake relationship. Bachira will move back with his mother, out of Tokyo, and away from Isagi. Potentially forever. One week and this will all be over. 

Isagi’s been thinking about it for the past couple days since the art symposium, and he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t even think he’s gay or straight. Perhaps he’s Bachira-sexual. When Bachira leaves and Isagi makes the crushing announcement that their relationship has ended, he doesn’t think he’ll ever want anyone else. 

But he’s already been too selfish. 

“Exactly.” Bachira grins, taking Isagi’s hand in his. 

Just the slight touch makes a blush creep across Isagi’s cheeks. It’s not subtle either, because the grin on Bachira’s face only gets bigger. 

“One week for me to do everything I’ve wanted to do with you.” Bachira pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, almost like he wants to pretend like he shouldn’t have said that. 

Isagi gulps. “That’s- true.” 

Bachira’s hands go from Isagi’s wrists to his shoulders, guiding him to the middle of his couch. Isagi messily sits down, now having to look up at a standing Bachira Meguru. 

“You know how fantastic this is?” Bachira leans forward, his hands resting on the back of the couch on either side of Isagi. He’s very close. It always feels like this, so sudden, yet so right, the way those feelings rocket through Isagi’s body and take up every single neuron in his brain. 

“What do you mean?” Isagi rushes through his sentence, saying it almost in a whisper. He doesn’t have to speak much louder than that, his breath is already dancing over Bachira’s pretty lips. 

“You wanna keep doing stuff with me, don’t you?” Bachira asks, though he already knows the answer. It may as well be written across his damn forehead in sharpie marker in big black letters: “PLEASE FUCK ME BACHIRA MEGURU”.

“Well, yeah.” Isagi breathes. 

“We had those few kisses, and then I sucked you off in a dark room, but we have plenty more to do.” Bachira fully stands up, releasing Isagi from the erotic prison he created on Isagi’s own couch. 

Isagi lets out a breath. “Why are you saying it like it’s an assignment?” Isagi mumbles. 

Bachira giggles, then pauses. He turns around, facing Isagi with a gorgeous, genuine smile. “I guess I’m just excited.”

Isagi’s not sure if he’s ever felt this exact feeling before, but he feels like his eyes just turned into glitter and the world around him turned into a sea of butterflies and rainbows circling around Bachira. The only thing he can think at the moment is: “ohmygodhessocuteohhessocuteplease”. 

“You seem pretty excited too, after being pinned to your couch.” Bachira winks, taking a quick glance at Isagi’s crotch area.

Isagi reddens, quickly pulling a throw pillow onto his lap. 

But Bachira’s right, he did like that. He liked getting pushed into the door too. He liked being tossed around a little. 

“I always had a feeling you were more on the submissive side.” Bachira sticks his tongue out. 

“Huh? No way!” Isagi argues. “I was the one who told you to get on your knees, remember that?” He huffs.

“Hm, after I told you to tell me what you want.” 

“But- you were saying that because you needed my direction! You’re the submissive one.” Isagi scrunches his nose. 

“I was being a service top.” Bachira giggles. “By the way, you look so cute when you’re arguing with me about who tops.” 

Isagi squeezes the pillow harder into his lap. Truly, Bachira’s words are enough. “What’s even a service top anyway?” He mumbles, knowing he’s already defeated. The submissive one is the one who gets flustered, the dominant one is the one who does the flustering. 

“Like the opposite of a power bottom. Still in charge, but giving you what you want.” 

“So like…” Isagi breathes. He’s getting quite heavy down there. “The one that puts it in is always the top, right?” Isagi can’t even make eye contact, he’ll probably pass out if he watches Bachira’s lips curl up into that cute little smirk. 

“Not always.” Bachira answers honestly. “But generally, yeah.” 

“But weren’t you-” Isagi takes another breath. “A bottom? Um, before?” 

“Sure, in that relationship.” 

“Then why are you insisting on topping me?”

“Because look at you!” Bachira approaches Isagi again, standing with his legs trapping Isagi’s. He reaches out, lifting his chin with his pointer finger. “You deserve to be topped.” 

Isagi lets out a nervous breath, though it comes out as more of a light whine. He’s absolutely the submissive one. 

Bachira leans in, holding his lips just a few centimeters away from Isagi’s. With a smirk threatening to appear across those perfect, pink lips, he refuses to close the gap. Instead, Bachira prefers to watch Isagi fall apart, to watch his eyes flutter closed with the anticipation of that gap being smothered shut, to watch him push his own head slightly forward, hoping that Bachira will meet him there. Bachira loves watching Isagi open his pleading eyes, only to be met with Bachira’s bottom lip caught between his teeth and zero intention to kiss him. 

“You want me so bad.” Bachira whispers. 

It’s unfair to be in this position, Isagi believes that. He’s frustrated, even embarrassed. And yet, he still finds himself shifting, thanking the throw pillow for concealing his painfully hard erection. He considers simply lurching forward and taking it from him, but in his submissive state, he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

“Yeah.” Isagi admits with a single breath, his eyes half lidded and dark with lust. It’s amazing how Bachira can have this effect with only a single movement, one that doesn’t even result in a simple touch. 

“You like being teased.” Bachira observes. 

As usual, there’s nothing Isagi can hide from the insightful Bachira Meguru. 

“I don't know if I like it.” Isagi grumbles. “But I guess my body does.” 

Bachira reaches down, lacing his fingers into the collar of Isagi’s shirt. The number one soccer player in the world, someone who can go up against any player and win by a landslide, is squashed under the thumb of Bachira Meguru. 

“Megu-” Isagi protests, watching Bachira lean in for what’s likely another tease. Isagi’s heart pounds against the walls of his chest, and once again that hot breath sends him into an erotic hypnosis. “I have to kiss you, sorry, I have to~” 

Isagi uses his own hands, forcing Bachira forward until he loses his balance, falling into Isagi’s lap. The gap closes, finally indulging the striker in a long-awaited kiss. 

Isagi holds onto Bachira for dear life, quickly lacing his fingers in his hair to keep him from pulling away. He’s unapologetically desperate, sloppily licking at his glistening lips. And those noises Bachira makes, those perfect little breaths, they slide over Isagi’s body like a blanket. In no time Bachira figures out his mechanism for control, sliding over top of Isagi and forcing him on his back, never once breaking their kiss. 

There’s the switch that flips when Isagi’s on the field, the one that turns him into a force to be reckoned with, something so different from his normal, kind personality. Isagi expected that a similar switch would flip when in a situation like this, turning him into a dominant lover with a fiery passion. Instead, the switch that flips is a new kind of switch. 

“I need to~” Isagi moans, tugging Bachira’s bottom lip between his teeth. “I need to make you feel good.” He almost whines it. The desperation in his voice is obvious, he’s not attempting to hide those feelings of submission. 

The fire and passion still exist when this switch is flipped, that much is clear, but this is focused on a deep desire to please someone else. Any strong passion Isagi has ever felt has existed for himself only, his need to score goals, to be the best, to take down every opponent that stands in his way. But this one is so much different. 

“That’s good, I was going to ask you to.” Bachira chuckles, pulling his head against Isagi’s tight grip on his messy locks of two-toned hair. “Fuck, I love when you pull my hair.” 

So Isagi pulls it harder, forcing Bachira’s exposed neck toward his lips. Every little inch of Bachira’s skin should be kissed, Isagi believes that with every fiber of his being. Nipping and sucking pretty purple marks into the sensitive skin of his neck isn’t enough. Every inch of him should be covered in hickeys, drooled on, worshiped. 

“People are gonna see that, you know~” Bachira taunts, his eyes snapped shut as Isagi tugs at his shirt with his teeth. 

“They should.” Isagi growls, looking at him with pleading eyes and his shirt caught between his teeth. He looks like a puppy. “Let them know you’re mine.” 

“I wanna feel good, Yoichi~.” Bachira switches gears, sitting up to force his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He smirks, grabbing Isagi by the collar and forcing him upright. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, holding eye contact with Isagi as he pulls his shirt over his head, the touch of Bachira’s fingers against his bare skin sending a shiver down Isagi’s spine. Isagi doesn’t miss the shirt, not when Bachira looks him up and down wearing that signature smirk of his, his tongue poking between his sharp teeth. 

“I want you to feel good.” Isagi lurches forward, eager to continue tangling their lips together, potentially until the end of time. 

“Ah-“ Bachira stops him, pressing his hand to Isagi’s bare chest. “Get on your knees.” He directs. “It’s your turn this time.”

Isagi obeys, he has no reason not to. This desire to please Bachira well surpasses his desire to be viewed as dominant. He’d bark for Bachira if he asked.

Bachira slides his bottoms down his perfect thighs, calmly sitting on the couch with his legs on either side of Isagi’s frame. And all Isagi can do is stare, watch as Bachira’s thick cock springs upward, slapping against his stomach, twitching and pulsing with every movement. His tip is plump and eager, a bead of precum situated just inside the slight divot of his hole. And it’s so thick, and long. 

“You’re-“ Isagi gulps, his jaw slacked as he tries to imagine fitting even half of that thing in his little virgin mouth. 

“Go on.” Bachira leans back, resting his arms calmly on the back of the couch, proudly showing off his big dick. 

“So pretty.” Isagi leans down, placing a kiss to his tip. He never thought of describing a dick as pretty before, but Bachira’s somehow fits that description perfectly. “And really fucking big.” He breathes. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to fit the whole thing.” Bachira chuckles. “I like a hand on the bottom and a lot of tongue work on the top.” He explains, reaching down to caress Isagi’s face with the back of his hand, almost tauntingly. 

“Okay.” Isagi slowly wraps his fingers around his shaft, reveling in the feeling of a cock in his hand that isn’t his own. It doesn’t feel weird at all, not like he thought it would. It feels- powerful. 

“That’s it~” Bachira sighs, his fingers already lacing themselves in Isagi’s hair, kindly holding his long black bangs away from his face. 

Isagi’s confidence is at an all time high despite this being his first time doing anything like this. When Bachira lets out those little gasps and praises, Isagi can only get more excited, his own cock seated heavy in his boxers, twitching at the thought of pleasuring Bachira like this. 

He swirls his tongue around the tip, recalling what he liked when Bachira did it to him. He replicates motions he assumes would feel good, hollowing out his cheeks to create suction on Bachira’s thick shaft. Every time Bachira makes a noise, Isagi makes a mental note, learning what he likes best in no time at all. All the while, he uses his hand, jerking the base into his mouth like he’s thrusting it into his own throat. 

Bachira’s thighs twitch and tense, squeezing Isagi’s shoulders. His head remains back against the couch, lazily rocking from side to side as he moans for more. 

“I could fuck your throat, make you choke-” Bachira rasps, his voice hoarse and tired. “Aren’t you worried?” He taunts. 

Isagi slides off his cock with a pop of his lips, forcing eye contact with the pretty boy on the couch. Isagi’s lips and chin glisten with his own drool and Bachira’s precum. He’s so messy, unapologetic about it too, with his wet tongue loosely hanging out of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I’d mind it much,” Isagi admits, suddenly taking interest in Bachira’s bare inner thighs. “But you’re really big, and my jaw needs a break.” 

He continues pumping his cock with his hand, spreading his drool over the entire pulsing shaft. But his mouth clamps onto Bachira’s inner thigh, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. 

“Ah~ fuck~” Bachira gasps, tugging harder on Isagi’s hair in response to the unexpected stimulation.

Isagi can’t help but moan as well, biting and sucking on the exposed skin until he’s sure those pretty thighs are covered in deep purple marks. Every tug on his hair and gasp that escapes from Bachira’s lips is a sign to keep going, to keep pouring everything into pleasing him. His thumb traces over the tip of his cock, forcing those milky clumps of white precum to squeeze through the small hole. 

“That’s- holy shit~” Bachira becomes more vocal with every bite, writhing under Isagi’s touch. “I’m getting- fuck I’m close~” Bachira forces his eyes open, weakly pulling Isagi’s mouth away from his sore thighs. “Need y’to swallow.” He’s much less dominant seeming now that he’s in this position, in fact, it looks like he’s the one begging now. 

This time it’s Isagi smirking, holding that eye contact as he takes the tip back into his mouth, sliding his wet lips down his shaft until Bachira spills his load, his jaw slacked and a string of curses and moans escaping with his thick stream. 

Isagi jumps back in surprise- he did not expect the volume of cum that rocketed down his throat. It surprised him enough to pull off Bachira’s shaft entirely, forcing some of the white substance to dribble out of Isagi’s mouth and down his chin. He swallows the rest, but he’s certainly surprised by the texture. It definitely doesn’t go down as easily as he expected it to. 

But god damn. He can’t help but love it, love the taste, the feeling of it all over his face, the fact that he made him do that. 

Bachira grabs his crumpled shirt and holds it to Isagi’s chin, wiping the drool and cum off his pretty face. “Holy shit.” He breathes with a light chuckle. “I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” 

Isagi tilts his head to the side, watching as Bachira examines the bites on his inner thigh, blooming a sea of beautiful bruises. He traces over them with his fingers. “Nobody’s ever done that before. I didn’t know I liked it so much. It got me close so fast.” 

“Oh, really?” Isagi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, resisting the urge to pounce on top of Bachira and keep leaving little marks just like those pretty ones on his thighs. 

“Fuck. Yeah.” Bachira nods slowly, meeting Isagi’s sparkling blue eyes with his half lidded, post orgasmic gaze. “You’re good at all that.” 

Isagi only stares back, flushed and trying to maintain control over his own body. He sits on his knees, slowly moving to rest his head in Bachira’s lap, hoping that when he recovers he’ll still want to kiss him. 

“Well you deserve a treat after that, hm?” Bachira pets Isagi’s head, his hands still weak from cumming just seconds ago. 

“Really?” Isagi looks up with those puppy dog eyes, Bachira can’t help but want to squeeze him. The best striker in the world, wrapped around his finger. 

“I mean I wanna fuck you.” Bachira chuckles.

Isagi gulps. “I don’t know if that will fit-” He starts nervously. The thought is exciting of course, bent over his own couch with Bachira’s thick cock slamming into him, maybe he’d even jerk him a bit while he fucks him, that would be amazing. But truthfully, Isagi has no idea how feasible that is, and how painful it would be. He’s dazed just imagining it. 

“No way,” Bachira laughs. “Yoichi- you don’t start with a dick. I’ll rip you in half.”

Even that post-orgasm laugh is gorgeous, laced with a little rasp and a hint of tiredness. It makes Isagi want to force his tongue down his throat to coat it in his saliva, maybe that’ll help clear that rasp, or maybe Isagi just wants to keep kissing him. He’s still hard, after all, he hasn’t exactly calmed down like Bachira has after getting sucked off.

“You start with smaller toys.” Bachira explains. 

“Oh, gotcha.” Isagi buries his face into the couch, hoping to prevent Bachira from seeing the redness creep back across his cheeks. 

“And I brought some.” 

Isagi’s head perks up, meeting Bachira’s cute smile and scrunched up nose. 

“Do you want to try?” Bachira asks, standing up and grabbing his bag. “I bought a couple vibrators of different sizes-” He pulls out some still-wrapped dildos. “Figured I’ll work you up until you can take me.” He winks. 

“I-in a week?” Isagi stutters, unable to prevent himself from looking Bachira’s naked body up and down, paying special attention to the budding bruises on his neck and thighs. He looks so pretty like this, with remnants of Isagi all over him. 

“If it works out, it works out, if it doesn’t it doesn’t.” Bachira shrugs. He’s very easy going about this for such an intense person, but Isagi should expect nothing less. Bachira is overall the most kind and caring person he’s ever met, of course he’d be caring more about Isagi’s pleasure than his own. 

Isagi just nods. He’s nervous, but eager. Plus, his cock still pulses heavily in his boxers, he’d be willing to let Bachira do just about anything to get him off at this point. 

“Then to the bedroom we go!” He exclaims, skipping away. 

Isagi can only giggle, that’s just Bachira. Nothing phases him, and no matter what, he’s always his authentic self. Isagi can only hope he’s enough for him, or at least, that he’s been enough for him in the time they’ve spent together. Like Bachira said, they only have one week left. 

But he’ll make the most of it. Even if this is the last week they ever spend together. 

Within minutes, Isagi wishes he’d just swallowed his pride and told Bachira how he felt sooner. He should have told him right after that first kiss, if this was what he’d been missing out on. With his face shoved into his pillow and his ass in the air, taking repeated thrusts from the vibrating dildo. 

He whines and groans into the fluffy cotton of the pillowcase, hoping it swallows enough of the noise to make it sound normal rather than guttural declarations of pleasure. 

“That’s it, see? Not so bad, hm?” Bachira coaxes him through it, his hand wrapped around the base of the dildo, guiding it in and out of his tight little ass. 

Sure, it hurt a little at first, but the second it reached that spot, the pain completely washed away. And this is only the first size, Isagi can surely take more, he wants to take more. At this point, with his cock twitching and pulsing as it slides across the fabric of his bedsheets, he hopes it hurts a little. 

“Can take more- please~” Isagi begs, suddenly unbothered by the prospect of being a bottom. Right now, he’ll be whatever Bachira wants. He’ll be a dog, he’ll put on makeup and dress like a schoolgirl, he’ll-

“We can go up a size, I think.” Bachira speaks in a softer voice than normal, almost teasing in how calm and peaceful he sounds. “You have such a pretty hole.” He places a kiss to Isagi’s back. “So tight, I can’t wait to fuck you myself.” 

“Yeah- fuck.” Isagi whines. “Up a size, but I’m not gonna last.” He says honestly, his body nearly shaking from the feeling of his full balls begging to burst at any moment. 

Bachira takes the next size up, lathering it in a thick layer of lube before poking the tip at his entrance. 

Isagi mumbles into the pillow, trying once again not to be too loud. 

“Do you want it?” Bachira taunts, whispering in his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Isagi’s spine. 

“Mhm~” Isagi moans. 

“Are you sure?” Bachira continues to tease, clearly back to his normal, devilish self. He loves watching Isagi squirm, knowing he has such an intense effect on him. 

“Please~” Isagi lifts his head up, whispering his plea. 

Bachira leans down further, holding the vibrating tip against Isagi’s ass. “I love it when you beg.” He says, slowly forcing it inside him. 

It doesn’t slide in easily, but Isagi’s okay with that. He loves when it hurts a little, sending painful shocks up through his body only makes his cock twitch harder. There’s something about that pain that makes Bachira excited too, those thrusts only get more forceful when Isagi whines out. 

“M-more-” Isagi chokes on his own breath. “More-more more~” He whines, his fingernails nearly ripping through the sheets as he stuffs his face into the pillow.

Bachira reaches under Isagi’s frame, gripping his desperate cock in his free hand while maintaining control over the vibrator. 

“Ah-!” Isagi gasps, instinctively grinding into Bachira’s hand as the vibrator makes contact with his sweet spot. 

He doesn’t even have time to warn Bachira before he releases, spurts of hot cum shooting into the blank canvas of the mattress, decorating it with creamy white strings. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever felt, with his ass squeezing tight around the vibrator and Bachira’s hand squeezing tightly around his cock. He feels lightheaded, breathless, desperate to hold onto the feeling. 

“Fuck-” Bachira reacts, slowing his hand, feeling Isagi’s cum drip down and ripple through between his fingers. 

Isagi can’t even hear himself as he rides out his high, his brain foggy with the feeling of ecstasy coursing through him. But Bachira can certainly hear him, whining and mewling like an animal in heat. If Isagi wasn’t so new to all of this- he’d flip him over and fuck him right now. But compared to the 3 inch vibrator that Isagi’s puckered hole is already so tightly wrapped around- Bachira would still rip him apart. 

Instead, he lays him down in the puddle of his own cum, slowly removing the vibrator and wiping him clean, softly kissing his chest, raking his fingers through Isagi’s messy hair. 

“Is that what I’ve missed?” Isagi speaks after what feels like ages of Bachira watching his chest sputter as it rises and falls. 

“Mhmmmm~” Bachira hums. “You’re awfully desperate.” 

“I feel so exhausted but I feel like I want more too.” Isagi grumbles. “I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.” He says after another moment. The post orgasmic state fills him with a feeling of appreciation and sentiment, like he just wants to float on a sea of flowers. 

“This is for me too.” Bachira snickers. “We’ve got the whole week still.” He lays next to Isagi on the pillow, his hands behind his head, strategically lacing his thighs between Isagi’s. 

“Right.” Isagi says, his feeling of ecstasy suddenly being overcome with a feeling of sentiment, even disappointment. “The week.” 

They could lay there for ages, and maybe they should, but the world still moves forward. Isagi still has practice, Bachira still has meetings. They have to work, and eat, and sleep- though in this moment Isagi feels like Bachira’s presence counts as basic human needs. 

He shouldn’t tell him he loves him. 

He can’t tell him that. 

“I should shower.” Isagi says instead, finally finding the strength to sit up, looking over his shoulder at Bachira, dressed only in his boxers with his hair messily spread across the pillow he rests his head on. All those marks are forming into lovely purple bruises. It makes him look even more beautiful. 

“Okay.” Bachira smiles. A genuine one. 

And that’s enough. It has to be.

[bachissidehoe]

Blue Lock Boys’ Kinks [feat. Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Reo, Rin, Sae]

Isagi is so quick to make decisions, but he prefers to take his time with you. He’ll plunge his thick cock into you, soaking up the arousal from your tight walls and rest there, breath catching in the back of his throat. With every clench of your pretty pussy, he’ll grow more eager, his eyes snapped shut and his mouth hanging open. But he won’t move just yet, he needs just a little longer. He’ll even slide his plump tip just inside your aching cunt, tracing it over your rim over and over until you’re begging him to fuck you. Your Isagi will wait as long as he can, edging himself with your hole until he physically can’t hold back. Even though you’re begging and whining for him, you love it too- how his cock twitches inside you, how his body shakes, how thick and creamy his load is when he finally fucks it into you.

Bachira can’t help but let the monster out when he gets a hold of you, clawing and biting at your soft, smooth skin. He gets off to the sight of you with blood dripping from wounds he made- trickling down your neck, your thighs, your back. He loves fucking you from the back so he can break your skin with his nails and teeth, watching your sore ass jiggle as his cock slams into you over and over. Seeing you bleeding and whining only makes him cum harder, faster. He loves cumming on your already messy body, mixing cum and blood and leaving you a mess of fluids.

Chigiri loves to be cockwarmed. Despite his speed and impatience with slow moving society, he lets you sit on his cock for hours, soaking both of your inner thighs as your cunt molds to his shape. He gets hard so easily too, even a kiss can get his cock twitching for more. So he’ll plop you in his lap, calmly moving your panties to the side so he can slide into you. He’s so patient, holding your hips and pressing light kisses to your neck, watching shows and videos with you, scrolling through TikTok, all while his thick shaft kisses your insides.

Nagi loves looking for the easy way out, even when facing the hassle of desperation for your pretty body. The second he can get a hold of you, he has you pinned to the bed, one hand holding your wrists together and his legs trapping yours. All that got to be too much though, so he switched to tying you up, knotting thick ropes to your hands and chaining your feet to the bed posts. It’s much easier this way- with you held in place he can fuck you exactly how he wants it. If you thrash, he’ll tie tighter. Your comfort is no object to him, he’ll tie tight enough to leave rope marks if he has to. Secretly, he even enjoys your little pleas for mercy.

Reo arrived with a cute little collar, puppy ears, and a leash- but not for you to wear. The pretty rich boy loves to bark for his owner, getting down on all fours with his tongue hanging out and his eyes wide. He begs for your attention, hoping to earn a turn with your pussy if he’s a good boy. And he’s always a good boy, even if his drool drips onto your chest while he fucks you, even if he cums fast because he just can’t hold back, even if he howls loud enough to reverberate off the walls of his bedroom. He never fails to take care of you either- lapping at your juices until you’re squirting on his face over and over again. He’s a messy puppy.

Rin fucks you until his brain turns off and his tongue hangs out. His eyes go dark as he becomes mesmerized from the feeling of your pussy, a drooling mess all over your face, your chest, your tummy, your thighs. He won’t stop either, not even when he cums. He’ll keep forcing his throbbing cock deep inside you, breathing heavily with that pussy drunk expression of his, fucking his cum back into you until he’s seeing stars. He loves the overstimulation, after all, the high doesn’t end if he refuses to come down from it. Instead, he’ll fuck you until he cums as many times as he wants, back-to-back overstimulation orgasms until his cock is milked completely dry.

Sae loves fucking you, of course, but he loves getting fucked even more. His pretty hole puckers for you, begging you to slide your strap inside. He loves when he can feel the silicone cock in his tummy, pressing against his sweet spot with every thrust into his tight ass. He loves when you give him little slaps too, leaving red handprints on his skin. He makes so many pretty sounds while you fuck him, whining and mewling like a cat in heat. You reach underneath him, stroking his pulsing cock in your hand until he cums, thick white ropes spurting onto the mattress below.

[bachissidehoe]

you wish

chapter 9 of it's classy, not classic [bachisagi]

Tonight is the night of Bachira’s art symposium, the final symposium of the Tokyo Art Tour. That’s the entire reason Bachira’s been living here. After this, his business in Tokyo finishes and he’ll move away to continue his work. It’s all been building to this, since this will be the final event that Isagi and Bachira will be publicly presenting as a couple. 

The two of them have had plenty of conversations about this night, knowing that they would be “breaking up” shortly after. But now, now that Isagi is looking at himself in the mirror, he’s realizing just how serious tonight will be. Not just for the public perception, but for himself as well. He’s admitted now that he likes Bachira in a different way than just a friend. He fantasized plenty about their relationship being real, but it’s unrealistic. This event is his opportunity to both grasp and let go of these feelings. 

But why can’t Bachira just stay in Tokyo? Does his job really require him to leave? Well, no. Technically, he can be an artist from wherever he wants. But this has always been the plan. Bachira finishes up his tour here, he goes home and lives close to his mother, who is also an artist, and lives out his life the way he wants. Isagi asking him to do something different would be selfish and inconsiderate. Especially after his conversation with him in which he suggested he try to play soccer again, only to be met with the pain he’s kept deep down all this time. Forcing him to live in Tokyo to be faced with the life he wished he had is unfair. 

Isagi sighs, checking himself over from head to toe. He’s learned a lot from Bachira since the last time he had to get dressed up for something, but he still doesn’t look nearly as good as when Bachira was in charge. Still, he’s done his best. He wears a navy blue vest and navy blue dress pants, coupled with a button down black shirt and navy blue bowtie. He pushed his hair back too, showing off his “distinguished” look. All things considered, Isagi looks good. 

He continues to check himself in his phone’s camera all the way to the event, through the train ride, on the short walk from the station to the convention center, as he stands outside, building his confidence to enter. 

And as he does, god damn. This is surely the most high class event Isagi has ever been to. Isagi thought he was enjoying a high class life as an athlete, but that’s nothing compared to the lifestyle one must live to attend an event like this. The entire convention center is decorated in a sparkling gold motif, with chandeliers made of gemstones and guests holding gold napkins underneath their dazzling champagne glasses. Even in Isagi’s most try-hard rich boy outfit, he still looks drastically out of place. 

“Sir, can I have your name please?” 

Isagi turns, shaking his gaze away from the impressive atmosphere to bring his attention to the check-in desk. Even this is gorgeous, with multiple women in matching suits and hairstyles standing behind the high-top rectangular table, dressed in a black silk tablecloth and gold booklets holding the names of the prestigious guests. Isagi imagines even the check-in people went through multiple rounds of hair and makeup before being cleared to act as the faces of the event. 

“Hello, yes. Isagi Yoichi.” Isagi responds, trying his absolute hardest not to sound as anxious and confused as he feels. 

“Oh, of course, Isagi-sama.” The woman nods. “I hardly recognized you outside of a soccer setting.” She chuckles. Even the chuckle is professional. 

But at least she recognizes him. Maybe his standing will give him a leg up in fitting in at this event. 

“You have been registered as Bachira Meguru-sama’s guest. Help yourself to the complimentary champagne and hors d'oeuvres.” The woman hands him a golden lanyard with a metal card engraved with his name. None of those conference-style paper nametags, a literal engraved tag. 

“Thank you very much.” Isagi bows, flashing her a kind smile, grabbing a booklet with descriptions of the different artists, exhibits, and their locations in the conference hall. 

He makes his way inside the event, surrounded by mainly old men and their frighteningly young wives. The art scene is a very different world than soccer. From what Bachira has described, high class art is most often enjoyed by many, but acquired by few. To be as successful of an artist as he is, his work must appeal to the rich and famous, acting as tools to display to the other rich and famous. 

In Isagi’s amateur opinion, this brand of individuals cannot possibly understand the emotional aspects of the art, but then again, Isagi doesn’t quite get it either. 

The first step is likely to get a glass of this high class champagne, as it seems like everyone, no matter what they’re doing, is holding one, taking very small sips of it every once in a while. That shouldn’t be too hard of a task. 

“Isagi!” A voice calls, forcing him to turn from his place in line at the bar. 

“Ah fuck.” Isagi groans under his breath. “Um, Hiro-” He starts, realizing he actually doesn’t recall his full first name or his last name. Come to think of it, maybe he actually never knew. He could have assumed he would be here as someone so high up in the art world, but then again, Isagi was under the impression that he was only here a few weeks ago to stalk Bachira. 

“Good to see you again.” He smiles. It annoys Isagi. “I’m so sorry, I never fully introduced myself the last time we met. It’s Abe Hiroshi.” He reaches out to shake Isagi’s hand.

Obviously, Isagi wants to take his hand and squeeze it until his fingers crack one by one, but he gives him a simple handshake instead. 

“Oh, your first name is Hiroshi, that makes sense.” Isagi says aloud. 

“Hah, yeah. Only the closest to me have ever called me Hiro.” He chuckles, hopping into line next to Isagi. 

That statement nearly makes hot steam start streaming out of Isagi’s ears. The thought of Bachira being the “closest” to this guy makes him want to kick him in the knees. 

“I apologize, Abe-san.” He replies. 

“Don’t worry about it!” He slaps him on the back, a little too playfully for Isagi’s liking. 

“So, um, are you presenting at this event?” Isagi asks through gritted teeth, praying he won’t be expected to hang out with this guy. Or even worse, if this guy wants to spend his time fucking with Bachira at his exhibit. It may turn into a let’s-take-this-outside-moment if that’s the case. 

“No, no. I’m one of the members of the board who put this event on, I’m just doing my rounds throughout the night.” He explains, waving and smiling at some rich looking dudes as they walk by. 

It seems as though Abe Hiroshi is much more important than Isagi had imagined. It was true what Bachira said, that Hiro was the reason why he became a popular artist. That no matter what happened between the two of them, Bachira can’t do anything to bring Hiro to justice for the way he treated him. He’s too powerful. 

“Oh, I see. Wow, that’s impressive.” Isagi replies. And this time he means it. It is quite impressive, even if this guy is wholeheartedly a dickbag. 

Additionally, if Bachira or Isagi were to piss this guy off, it’s possible that he could ruin Bachira’s career. That’s the type of power he has. 

Hiro turns away from the crowd, ensuring his words are being spoken to Isagi and Isagi only. “I know that my relationship with Ru was ruined because of my own actions, I just want to put you at ease that I got a little excited about being with him, and have no intention of doing anything to make him or you uncomfortable moving forward.” 

Even through that entire statement in which Hiro held himself accountable, the only thing Isagi can hear is that nickname. Why would he be allowed to call Bachira something so affectionate? 

“I understand. I appreciate that.” Isagi replies, maintaining his composure through his irrational anger. 

“If you haven’t seen his exhibit yet, you really should. It made me realize that I never really understood him at all.” Hiro scratches the back of his head, turning back to the side to face outward toward the crowd. 

“I will visit it.” Isagi nods, acquiring his glass of champagne. 

Hiro is truly a strange guy, clearly he’s the type of person who’s never been told “no” in his entire life. No wonder he wouldn’t listen to Bachira’s repeated “no’s”. He’s rich, attractive, popular, and has immense power. But still, he could be using that power in a much more harmful way than he is. As hard as it is for Isagi to grasp, it’s likely true that Hiro does care about Bachira and his success on a personal level. 

Isagi can’t help but feel immense rage toward that guy, an incessant need to lock him up somewhere so Bachira never has to look so afraid again. But at least he’s staying out of the way. And now Isagi’s here, he can protect Bachira, he can keep him safe.

Bachira’s exhibit, titled “You Wish”, is located in the center of the event, one of the highlights of the entire symposium, apparently. This publicity stunt between him and Isagi has actually generated enough buzz to put Bachira on the radars of the most prominent art gurus. 

And as soon as Isagi is within range of Bachira’s exhibit, he can see why his talent has captured the attention of so many. There are colors splashed on canvases that reflect off the glittering chandeliers in a way that makes the area look decorated in rainbows. Before Isagi can even see paintings up close, he can feel Bachira’s presence in the atmosphere of the “You Wish” exhibit. 

“Yoichi!” 

Bachira spots him before he even notices, calling and waving in a way that Isagi feels like would get him kicked out of his event if he weren’t the premiere artist. Regardless, Isagi’s cheeks instantly turn a deep shade of pink. 

“I’m so happy to see you.” Bachira tears himself away from the conversation he was having, with clearly very important people, to run toward Isagi, nearly jumping into his arms. 

Isagi nearly falls over from cuteness, Bachira’s never acted this sweet in public with him before. “Hi Bach- Meguru.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around him in a comforting hug. His cologne is intoxicating, traveling through Isagi’s sensory receptors like it’s putting a spell on him. He wonders if Bachira ever felt anything similar toward him. He wears a gold pair of dress pants and a black ribbed sweater, a long gold chain hanging from his neck. He looks much less dressy than the people attending the event, but Isagi imagines he probably dressed like this to stand out as an artist rather than blend in with the crowd. Regardless, he looks good. He always does, though.

As Bachira walks him into the exhibit, the cameras are flashing, the people are calling for him, waving him down, complimenting him. But all Isagi can do is stare in awe, completely taken over by these paintings. As he looks at them, he can’t believe he’s never seen any of Bachira’s works before. 

It’s all so clear, even someone as dense as Isagi understands what’s happening here immediately. Those colors he saw earlier were only from half of the exhibit. The second half. 

The first half of the exhibit is painted in dark colors, blacks, grays, purples, dark blues. The second half is where the brightness is, with reds, blues, yellows, and bright greens. Every single painting here has one overarching theme: soccer. 

Isagi shouldn’t feel so surprised, especially after Bachira confessed how hard it has been watching everyone progress without him. But these paintings bring a new sense of emotion to his world, a look into the true tortured mind of Bachira Meguru. What it’s really like for him to watch others live out his dream. 

The dark side of the exhibit depicts gut wrenching imagery: an arm tangled in a net, eerily similar texture to that of a soccer net, a hypnotic image with the same patterns seen on a soccer ball, a broken, gray trophy filled with grass and mud, a vast, empty field with dark clouds looming above a lone figure, and a large monster-looking shadow branching out from the figure. This is Bachira Meguru’s life after his injury, his heartbroken state of losing what he loved most. 

And the bright side of the exhibit is even more heartbreaking: bright fields with fists raised into the air, a ball breaking through the back of a soccer net, a blast generated from someone powerfully kicking a ball. And the most beautiful painting: a sun shining light down onto a figure with their back toward the viewer, a figure wearing the number 11. In fact, all of these images showcase the number 11 somewhere. Isagi’s number. 

He can’t help but tear up at the realization of what he’s looking at. It’s the way Bachira feels about himself and his dreams versus the way he feels about Isagi living them. He’s tortured, yet he’s so happy for Isagi. Isagi can only imagine his face as he was painting these, as he was moving the brushes through globs of acrylic paint with tears streaming down his cheeks. It’s not fair. Bachira should be out on that field with him. 

“Meguru- I-” Isagi gasps, his breath still floating around the room somewhere without him. Probably with the soul that left his body at the same time his breath was taken away. 

“This one will be receiving the Color Masterpiece Award soon. The most prestigious award here.” Bachira smiles, following Isagi’s gaze to the painting his brain described as the most beautiful one. “I named it “You Wish”, that’s where I got the name for the exhibit.” 

“It’s amazing. You’re amazing.” Isagi finally turns to him, his eyes still wide with what he can only describe as dazzlement. “Is that- is that me?” 

“No way, just some random pro soccer player who happens to mean a lot to me and also wears the number 11.” He chuckles. 

Isagi’s heart drops into his stomach. Who happens to mean a lot to me. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You have incredible talent.” 

“Well, let’s hope it sells.” He laughs, turning back to his audience to smile and wave at them.

Artists really are something. Bachira can act as silly and expressive as he wants here; it's viewed as part of the artistic vision. But if a guest would dare to act so jumpy and eccentric, Isagi imagines they would surely be escorted away from the premises. 

Isagi can only stand and continue staring at the paintings, admiring the emotion in every single brush stroke. He stands and stares through the entire award ceremony, watching Bachira shake the hands of so many rich old dudes as a large golden ribbon is placed next to his painting. Cameras flash and people clap respectfully, eager to speak with the artist himself as they admire the gold ribbon next to the painting that is now valued at over 1.5 million yen. 

“Yoichi, get over here!” Bachira calls again, forcing Isagi out of yet another trance to grab him for a picture. 

Isagi smiles, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You are so cool.” Isagi breathes out as Bachira throws his arm around him.

“Hah!” 

“You painted all this stuff while we’ve been dating?” Isagi asks, ignoring all the shouts from the judges and important people looking to document this award. 

“Yeah, kinda embarrassing huh.” Bachira giggles, playfully sticking his tongue out at Isagi. “My feelings for you are about to make me pretty damn rich though.” 

And in that moment, Isagi can’t help himself. There’s a wave of emotion that crashes over him, from the paintings, to seeing how good Bachira looks, to watching him smile while getting that award, to hearing him basically confess to him right here. The switch flips. He feels it every time he’s on the field, and he felt it that one time he “practice” kissed Bachira. 

He grabs the collar of Bachira’s sweater, crashing their bodies together as he forcefully plants his lips against that cute little tongue poking out at him. Isagi will probably feel the embarrassment from this later, there’s people everywhere, they’re all watching. 

Bachira is completely caught off guard, his eyes remaining wide open for a moment before his body can respond to the fact that Isagi is kissing him like this. His fists clench next to him, his heart rate increasing as he finds himself unable to react. He can only stand there, tasting Isagi’s plump lips in front of the entire crowd. 

Isagi pulls back with a reddened face and a look of cautioned bliss. “I’m sorry about that.” 

Roars of applause, flashing cameras, and “aww’s” come from the large crowd in the exhibit. The people love it, a surprising development in a public display of affection between two guys in Tokyo, Japan. That said, this couple has been populating so many news pages lately, it’s only expected that the old rich men of the art community would be made aware. 

Bachira pulls back flushed as well, but recovers almost instantly. Isagi is jealous of his ability to do that, while he’ll be stuck thinking about this for weeks. “You’re bold, Yoichi.” He smirks. 

“I, uh, you said you have feelings for me and- I just-” Isagi rushes through it, with all these people around. It’s definitely not an ideal place for this conversation, not even close. 

“Couldn’t help yourself?” Bachira maintains his sly smile. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t.” Isagi chokes. 

“We should make the most of that.” 

“What do you mean?” Isagi tilts his head to the side, watching Bachira start to laugh with the guests once again, posing with some other individuals asking for a picture. But Isagi doesn’t understand why Bachira would be focusing on them when he’s right here. Isagi can’t even hear them. 

Bachira turns back around. “Give me a minute, go hang out here and I’ll be there in a few.” He holds out his hand, placing a piece of paper in Isagi’s hand. 

Isagi nods, stepping away to read the paper. It simply has a number on it, B-12. It must be a meeting room for the artists or something, it seems like Bachira must have been handed this paper when he first got here to tell him where to go. 

It doesn’t take long for Isagi to find the room, entering the dark, small, empty space and searching for a lightswitch. After he finds himself unsuccessful, he leans against the door, letting out another long breath. 

Bachira must want to yell at him or scold him for kissing him in front of all those people. If he wants to talk in private, and so immediately, it must be important. 

His heart hasn’t stopped racing either. 

And it races more when he feels the door press against his back, as someone tries to enter. 

“Fuck- sorry-” Isagi moves away, allowing Bachira to open the door and enter the dark room. Even in the dark, Isagi can see the light from those golden eyes of his. 

“Hey.” Bachira chirps, closing the door behind him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I did that in front of those people, I should have just talked to you and told you more later but I-”

Isagi is quickly cut off as Bachira closes the gap between them, pressing his lips fervently against his. He pulls away just as quickly as he kissed him. 

“What are you-” Isagi squeaks, his confidence suddenly diminishing. 

“Capitalizing on this, hm?” Bachira turns Isagi around, slowly backing him against the door. The light trickles in from underneath the door, giving him just enough to illuminate Bachira’s face.

“What do yo-”

“Shhhh~” Bachira presses a finger to Isagi’s lips. It must be a tactic to strengthen that spell he cast on Isagi earlier with the smell of his cologne. It’s a very effective one. “Do you want to kiss me?” 

Isagi has never seen Bachira like this, not even when they kissed that other time. His smile is devilish, but not in a sassy way. His eyes are dark, but not in a tired way. His voice is raspy, but not in a groggy way.

Isagi can’t do a thing against this form of Bachira Meguru. 

All he can do is gulp and nod slowly. 

That’s all it takes for Bachira to close the gap once again, one arm pressed against the wood of the door, and the other gripping the fabric of Isagi’s button down shirt. Isagi is trapped by his body, but that’s exactly where he wants to be, with Bachira’s legs pressing him harder against the door as he kisses him deeply. 

This isn’t a practice kiss. It’s not a fake kiss. There’s nobody to see it, nobody to report on it, nobody to testify to the realness of their relationship. It’s just the two of them, breathing heavily between smooth, wet kisses. Bachira’s tongue tastes like heaven and his lips feel like a fluffy cloud, Isagi never realized a kiss like this could remove his soul from his body only to reincarnate him with every sleek swipe of Bachira’s perfect tongue. 

Isagi tries to keep his hands balled into fists at his side, willing them not to move on their own, begging that they hold themselves back from what he really wants with this moment. But they don’t listen, those stupid hands. They travel up Bachira’s back, one hand finding its way to tangle in his two-toned scruffy hair while the other finds an entry point onto his bare skin. His hair is so soft, and his skin is so smooth, directly contrasting how his kisses get rougher with every forced breath he takes. 

Isagi finds the lust taking over. Bachira was right, this feeling is different from kissing a girl. It’s better. He can’t imagine a place he’d rather be than right here, in this dark room, with Bachira’s tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. He doesn’t care about the little sounds he keeps letting slip, he doesn’t care that he’s not in charge the way he thought he’d be. 

“Hmm~” Bachira hums against his lips, feeling Isagi’s nails grazing against the skin of his back, his other hand tugging lightly on his soft locks. “I really like that, you know.” He mumbles, his raspy voice digging into Isagi’s mind, into a place that he’s sure to revisit again and again. He sounds so beautiful. 

“Okay.” Isagi breathes, his heart rate increased to potentially dangerous levels as he watches quick breaths escape from Bachira’s slightly parted lips with every movement of Isagi’s fingers tangled in his hair and pressed into his back. 

Bachira doesn’t waste the opportunity to trail his own hands down Isagi’s body, resting briefly on his hips, then trailing just a bit inward, enough to make Isagi wince against his lips. Bachira chuckles, a demonic little giggle. “I love making you squirm.” He admits, pulling Isagi’s bottom lip between his teeth. 

Isagi can only breathe heavier, his vision growing blurry as he tries to process the sensations coursing through his entire body. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants Bachira to do. 

Bachira grabs Isagi’s hair, pulling his head to the side so he can whisper in his ear. “Your legs are shaking.” He rasps, his teeth clamping on Isagi’s earlobe as he tastes it with his tongue. 

“I- I know-” Isagi’s voice is shaky too, both of his hands now tugging on Bachira’s hair. 

“Every time I do something you like, you pull harder on my hair, did you know that?” Bachira asks, his hot breath tickling his saliva-coated earlobe. 

“Hmm~ no-” Isagi whines. 

“You should tell me what else you want.” Bachira turns Isagi’s head to face him directly again, that same gorgeous demon smile plastered on his perfect face. “You damn egoist.” 

Isagi can only react, his body doing the work for him as he kisses him again, unable to spend another second apart from his lips. His hands trail down Bachira’s body, moving to make contact with the strong hands that still rest on his waist. 

He grabs his wrist. 

“That’s it~” Bachira coaches. “Put my hand where you want it.” 

There’s no more semblance of reality in Isagi’s entire mind or body, there’s only Bachira. If he were asked where he is right now, what he does for a living, why he’s here, there would be no answers. Only Bachira. Just this moment, just his hand moving toward the exceptionally tight bulge in his pants. 

“You should tell me what to do, Yoichi.” He whispers. “I won’t know unless you tell me.” 

Isagi gasps, feeling Bachira’s hand make contact with his clothed erection. “I- fuck- I want you on your knees.” Isagi manages to moan out, breathing heavily as he looks at Bachira’s lustful gaze. 

“Good boy.” He replies, dropping to his knees without breaking eye contact for even a second. 

With every movement, the sounds of his belt buckle coming undone, everything Bachira does, he feels shivers run down his spine. He can’t fathom the electric shocks lighting up his core as he feels Bachira sliding his pants down his shaky thighs. 

Isagi leans his back against the door, watching breathlessly as Bachira releases his cock from its confinement, golden eyes still trained on Isagi’s blue ones.

“Oh fuck, you are so pretty.” Bachira gasps, his fingers slowly wrapping around Isagi’s fully erect cock. 

“I- I thought- you must have- seen- it before~” Isagi breathlessly watches Bachira trace his fingers up and down his cock, his thumb rubbing over the oozing tip, spreading his precum around his plump, pink head. 

“Not like this, pretty boy.” Bachira chuckles, wrapping one hand around the base, jerking it slowly a few times. “Don’t try to hold it back for me, got it?” He winks, his seductive movements making Isagi feel like he could cum already. 

Bachira’s lips wrap around his tip, squeezing down as he plays with it, letting his tongue soak up the taste of him. Isagi leans harder on the door, praying that his body weight doesn’t break it from the amount of force he’s putting on it. 

Is this feeling what he’s been missing out on? This feeling he was convinced he didn’t need? Because right now, he’s damn sure he’ll never be able to feel anything as good as this. 

Bachira tightens his hand around the base of Isagi’s shaft, stroking it and moving his mouth up and down at the same time. He could do this for days, years if Isagi wanted. Those pretty whimpers escaping from his slightly parted lips are ethereal. 

“I- don’t know how long-” Isagi grunts, his hips thrusting into Bachira’s mouth on their own. The sensation feels like thousands of missiles are exploding inside his body, sending bursts of ecstasy toward every single nerve he has. 

The way Bachira’s tongue moves, the way he licks and sucks at the same time, he is amazing. He’s so damn good at it. For someone acting so dominant, it really seems like Bachira’s quite the giver. He’d rather kneel in front of Isagi’s shaky body than make him do it instead. And Bachira’s not upset with that decision at all, no, he loves doing this. He loves feeling the drool build up in his mouth only to escape from the corners of his lips, he loves how Isagi’s cock tastes, he loves how drops of precum dribble onto his tongue, how his cock twitches with every quick movement. 

Bachira hums in response, the vibrations stimulating Isagi’s cock as he finds his hands making their way back into Bachira’s hair. 

He pulls, harder this time, pushing his cock further into Bachira’s used mouth. There’s something about seeing Bachira like this, on his knees, so gracefully sucking that thick cock, it makes Isagi want to force it further. If he wasn’t so shaky right now, if he wasn’t so stimulated by the intensity of the situation, he’d tell him to suck it harder, he’d hold his head in place and watch the tears fall. But he can’t, he’s so dizzy, so overstimulated, taken over by the sensations Bachira’s making him feel. 

Isagi grips on his hair, moaning as he feels him hurtling toward his edge. “I- Megu-” He whines. 

Bachira holds his position, looking up to meet Isagi’s gaze as he releases, cumming in thick, white ropes down Bachira’s throat. Bachira doesn’t even falter for a moment, taking his thick load with no trouble at all. 

“Ah~” Isagi whines, his mouth open wide as he breathes heavily, the sensations of Bachira’s lips on his cock sending him into overdrive. He could pass out from how hard he came. He could die right here, he would be happy with that. 

“There ya go, better?” Bachira pulls back, looking up at Isagi with an innocent expression, as if he didn’t just swallow his entire load in one gulp. 

“Mhm.” Isagi doesn’t know what else to say, he can really only stare at his fake boyfriend, on the floor in front of him, his tongue freshly coated with his cum. 

“You needed that, I bet.” Bachira stands up, sliding Isagi’s boxers up with him. 

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz. 

Bachira’s phone buzzes in his pocket, distracting him from his current task of dressing Isagi for the second time since they’ve known each other. 

“Hello?” Bachira answers.

Isagi stands with his hand covering his mouth, fearful that his loud post-orgasm breaths could get Bachira in trouble. 

“No, I just had to step outside, I’m coming right back.” He chuckles, pausing as the person on the other line speaks. “I know, I know, I can’t stay in one place for too long though. You know that.” Another pause. “Alright! I’m coming, be right there.” He ends the call, looking back toward Isagi. 

“Just in time, I gotta give my speech.” He giggles, back to that cute little playful giggle he always does. 

“A-are- I- really?” Isagi stutters, still in recovery mode. 

“Yeah, what? Is it hot that you gotta come watch me speak after you just came in my mouth?” He pokes his tongue out, taunting him. 

“Uh, uh huh.” Isagi nods, dazed. 

“See ya there, then.” He places a quick kiss to Isagi’s lips, leaving him in that dark room with his dress pants still crumpled around his ankles. 

Isagi somehow put himself back together in time to make it back into the crowd to listen to Bachira’s acceptance speech, but he is confident he didn’t hear a single word.