emm

20↑ / reblog heavy acc

[kaisaerinlover]

michael kaiser who is a terrible boyfriend but also perfect.

michael kaiser who braids ur hair for u before u sleep because u don’t want it to be too knotty (it’s done evilly to manipulate u)

michael kaiser who tucks u in and talks u to sleep if u ask for it because u always tell him his voice is nice (done evilly so that when ur asleep he can do evil things to u)

michael kaiser who brings u to every single one of his matches and lets the public know about ur relationship and growls at every other woman that might try and hit on him (done evilly to isolate u)

michael kaiser who gives u 50000 euros if u ask for 5 to buy something at the store (done evilly to make sure ur dependant on him)

michael kaiser who never lets u walk on the side of the pavement closest to the side of the road (done evilly because he wants to be the only one to hurt u)

michael kaiser who actually feels a semblance of pity and caring towards u after he hurts u, whether it’s punching, fucking, choking whatever the sick guy does to u and he actually bandages u up after and kisses u and tells u he’s sorry (done evilly so u can never quite escape him)

michael kaiser who tries to cook for u sometimes when he notices ur a little worn down, or sick, or hears u fawning over some stupid meal u saw on tiktok, and he’s not the best cook but when u dig into what he makes for u and smile up at him his heart grows a bit (it’s done evilly so u think it’s safe to eat his food for when he decides to poison it)

michael kaiser who indulges himself in all of ur random interests, learns all the sanrio characters, learns all the random video games u enjoyed playing in ur childhood; and he actually participates in playing them too (done evilly to make u trust him, the more he knows about u the better)

michael kaiser who feels bad when u cry, and wipes ur tears away, licks them up and pets ur head and affirms u that everything will be fine and u just have to tell him what’s bothering u and he’ll fix it for u no matter what it is (done evilly so u act vulnerable around him more often)

michael kaiser who actually attends therapy for u and tries to better himself and be a good boyfriend (he can’t even think of an excuse for this one anymore)

michael kaiser who realises that maybe he isn’t the evil subhuman he always thought he was and he actually might just love u. like a really pure tender love that he didn’t even think he would ever have the pleasure of feeling. when he looks at u he just feels warm inside, he doesn’t feel anything bad, unless u count the sickness that washes over him at his revelation that he really does love u.

kaiser who is conflicted, he doesn’t want u to leave, but maybe that shitty therapy has rubbed off on him; he doesn’t want to manipulate u really to make u stay. he just… he wants to confide in u and put his trust in u that u won’t leave him. he wears his heart on his sleeve around u and he trusts u.

michael kaiser who really has, mostly, changed. and he’s not even sure why. he feels disgusted at himself, but when he sees ur sleeping form next to him he knows it’s worth it. u don’t deserve a broken terrible boyfriend, u deserve someone nice. but he’s the only nice someone u deserve.

michael kaiser who just really adores u, and is so grateful that ur in his life. michael kaiser who lays awake in his bed full of ur blankets and plushies and just u in general. lays awake with u sleeping on his chest and sighs. he didn’t think he would ever be able to love, or be loved, but he gets the appeal now. he is so full of u and u are so full of him. love isn’t what his parents had, or even what he somehow twisted ness into feeling for him. love is… this. and the thing that scares him the most is that he wouldn’t change it for the world.

but the scariest part is when u stir from ur sleep and kiss him on the cheek and ask him what’s the matter, and he tells u nothing and kisses u back, the scariest thing is he wasn’t lying. everything dissipated when u gave him 3 seconds of ur attention. ur really the remedy to all of his problems. that’s scary, but not really, because his chest is less constricted and he’s falling asleep too after ur tender kiss to his cheek. actually, the future doesn’t scare him at all anymore, nothing is like before.

hi everyone :0

[kaisaerinlover]

i think kaiser would soften up eventually and be a lot nicer and more gentle with you but he wouldn’t like it every time he catches himself brushing your hair out of your eyes and tucking it behind your ear sweetly he would get mad at himself for it later cause he thinks he should be evil even though the truth is he’s so hungry for the things he’s never had (school a loving family love in general etc) cause he thinks he doesn’t deserve it so he just ends up huffing at himself when he’s alone in the bedroom looking in the mirror in his stupid robe and you just walk in and see this grown ass man standing there and tantruming that he’s not being malicious enough

like seriously i think he would be such a manchild sometimes as mean and harsh as he is because he grew up not being loved so he has those moments where hes just hella immature and acts like a baby like seriously when you’re holding hands sometimes he just looks at it and is like wtf is this why am i indulging myself and her in this i’m supposed to be evil like this poor guy no matter how much psychology and whatever he reads he’s never gonna be able to regulate and understand his feelings he’s just a big baby inside but it’s so rare he shows it 😭

he’s mean to you most of the time like don’t get me wrong as a boyfriend he would just have so many problems but it makes the times he’s nicer to you so much better because it’s so rare like whenever you’re cuddling him in bed and he’s playing with your hair and kissing your head like a normal couple you’re like “omg omg omg yay” in your head and that’s your thought process but sometimes he’s just mentally freaking out that you think he’s a loser for softening up and he just chastises the fuck out of himself and maybe starts being mean to you again the next day out of retaliation 😭

like he acts so cool and high and mighty but when it comes to you he’s literally so embarrassed that you think he’s a loser for being affectionate it’s like he’s some virgin nerd boy in highschool again freaking out over a girl but it’s a bit darker than that in reality this poor guy just didn’t grow up right 😭😭

[kaisaerinlover]

tw: dubcon, self depricating, unbalanced power dynamics

the re al facilities are rich enough to give everyone their own dorm, their own luxurious dorm. so why is it that sae itoshi and michael kaiser don’t have their own dorm? well, technically they do, but they barely use both at once. why does one of them always find themselves sitting on the bed of the other’s dorm? that’s probably what everyone at re al wonders; sae itoshi who doesn’t speak to anyone and has nothing but a cold and indifferent attitude no matter what words you throw at him. and then michael kaiser. michael kaiser, the ultra talented prodigy striker - he could probably carry this whole generation of players on his back with his skill. and his ego too, his ego is so inflated it’s impossible to have a normal conversation with him. it’s quite clear this man has no respect for anyone who he doesn’t deem on the same level or above in terms of talent. no one in the re al facilities at all whatsoever is worthy of any semblance of respect from him. sae has a similar mindset, he sees everything and everyone as lukewarm; but he’s not exactly disrespectful. but the pair just don’t think highly of anyone or anything but themselves.

so why are they nonstop spending time together? their personalities don’t seem like they’d mix well at all to most people. and they don’t; you are the icing on top. the thing that they have to agree on. to communicate for. kaiser doesn’t think anyone in the re al facility is worthy of any of his attention, except for you. and itoshi, he supposes, considering they do talk a lot. but it’s only for you, really. sae and kaiser don’t exactly hate each other, but he doubts they’d talk if you weren’t here. you. you were the cute housekeeper paid the bare minimum to keep everything tidy and cute. that’s what was on the resume anyway; you are a glorified maid. not anymore though, kaiser and sae don’t really let you do your job. if they lust after you so will everyone else here. they don’t even know what compelled them to start sharing you in the first place; but this arrangement works so there’s no need to alter it yet.

the only two people you’re allowed to tend to is those two, which is annoying, but for some reason you’re yet to be fired so you guess it’s okay. but you’re a bit uneasy around them always. you know you don’t really have any choice but to go along with what they want because they’re just so influential it’s pointless to argue with them; you would definitely lose your job if you opened your mouth. and that’s what they adore about you - you’re so pliant and cute. so quiet, too shy to speak up about the mistreatment they both make you suffer. kaiser likes the power he has over you and sae likes the fact there’s little inconvenience when it comes to you. not to mention you’re not too harsh on the eye in that cute little uniform they insist you parade around their dorms wearing. dressing you up like you’re actually a maid. you really want to convince yourself you hate this, but being doted on is nice. unsettling, but nice.

you’re sitting between the two on the bed, you don’t even remember who’s dorm you’re in right now. probably sae’s, but your memories mesh into one all too often. you’re not sure why, you’re struggling with remembering anything at all these days. maybe it’s how stressed and tired the two men end up making you, but it’s hard to put your finger on it.

they think you’re so cute, all out of it and pliant between them. it was kaiser’s genius idea to start drugging you; you know, just a bit. just to make you that extra bit more obedient. a bit turned into a lot, poor thing, can you even remember anything except the two men? you’re looking down at your legs toying with the stockings they insist you must wear with the already stereotypical frilly maid dress they make you wear. you feel all hot and dizzy, and nervous. sae reaches out to lift up your head and squeeze your cute face in his much bigger hands, and kaiser is twirling your hair around his fingers. you’re embarrassed; you didn’t really start noticing until recently how they’re actually attractive, and it’s making you all hot and bothered. you’re trying to be discreet but it’s hard. it’s embarrassing to feel your panties dampen with slick over the two men who have so much power over you and terrify you so much. feminism is truly dead because you’re so perverted. you chastise yourself in your head for your sluttiness until one of them speaks up.

“what’s wrong? how come you’re not looking at us, hm?” it’s kaiser. he’s smirking at your squished face in sae’s hands, still messing with your hair. sae releases your cheeks just a bit; enough for you to be able to speak a coherent sentence. “what’s so interesting in your stockings, you lukewarm girl?” he scolds you. and you hang your head as best you can with sae’s strong hands around it in shame. it’s so embarrassing to have to squeeze your legs together just to semi satisfy the tingling sensation in your pussy. it’s so embarrassing; your inexperience precedes you it really does. they can tell too, you’ve never had a man before either of them stepped into your life.

kaiser laughs at your cute antics, the way your plump thighs press together. the way they look in your stockings. “are you wet? you fucking slut” he patronises you whilst laughing. he tugs your hair a bit so your head is yanked a little out of sae’s hands. sae looks up and deadpans him “watch it, we’re sharing remember?” kaiser just grumbles and rolls his eyes. “look at her itoshi, writhing under our touch and presence” his fingers wander from your hair down to your tits as he squeezes your nipple hard enough to make you cry out in pain “isn’t it funny?”

sae does find it funny, see, the two are not emotionally in tune at all. kaiser likes inflicting pain on you and sae doesn’t care too much; he just uses you for his own convenience. and right now they can feel themselves hardening at the sight of you being all worked up over them, your comfort or wellbeing be damned.

that’s how you find yourself on sae’s lap with his fingers shoved deep inside of you as kaiser watches and smirks. sae itoshi has long, slender fingers; truly good at their craft. that stupidly dehumanising outfit they have you wearing is discarded and you’re only in the cute matching bra and panties set they make you wear beneath it so often. sae and kaiser are mean, but you could literally just walk away at any time. this job isn’t worth much; especially with the way they treat you. they know it too. they can subject you to whatever treatment they want because you secretly enjoy it. enjoy the way sae is fucking you on his hand as kaiser smirks as he does. your pussy is aching in the best way possible and drool rolls down your chin. sae just wipes it off and licks it before he kisses you.

after a bit kaiser chimes in though “don’t just keep her for yourself, why are you so greedy, itoshi?” he’s standing next to you as sae withdraws his fingers from your sopping cunt, and he wraps his hands around your throat and looks down at you. sae just looks up at him “your turn for now then” you’re pushed off of sae’s lap and onto the floor. they’re a bit rough with you, you wish they’d be more gentle. but whatever, you can’t have everything in life. kaiser takes sae’s precious position on the edge of the bed and sae sits next to him palming himself at the sight of you on the floor. you’re a bit nervous, sae isn’t sadistic on purpose really, he just indulges himself far too much. kaiser is though. kaiser wants to make you hurt. sae just watches to see what he does next. you know he won’t help you, you gave up thinking that after the first few times.

your throat is hurting, kaiser’s hands are as strong as sae’s. he’s looking down at you with a big smirk plastered on his stupidly attractive face. “you know, you’re a real slut, kätzchen.” and all you can do is bow your head in shame. it’s true what he says; but he props your chin back up and pushes open your mouth with one thumb. he spits in your mouth like you are worth nothing, maybe because in the grand scheme of things you aren’t. when he pushes your mouth closed again you take it as a sign to swallow, so you do. it pleases the two men greatly, sae lets out a low, gutteral groan and kaiser just laughs and pets your head. “it’s okay if you’re a slut, ‘cause you’re still good for us”. it’s true, you’re awfully good for them. you don’t need to be really, but you still are. still open your mouth when kaiser pushes his cock past your lips again. you still reach out your arm from the floor and stretch as far as you can to be able to jerk off sae at the same time. you can exercise your free will in any way you want to and this is how you choose to do it. letting kaiser pull at your hair and gag you on his fat cock whilst you push yourself to the limit and bend uncomfortably at weird angles just to be able to keep pleasuring sae at the same time. you’re doing it just to please and make these two prodigies cum. they have you in the palm of their hand and they know it. god, you’re pathetic.

sae thinks it’s cute, he won’t tell you that out loud too often; but you’re terribly cute. he has his hand wrapped around your smaller one, helping you jerk him off. god, he wishes he could fuck you right here and right now; but he can’t whilst you’re down there. kaiser wants the same. he wants nothing more than to bend you over the bed and destroy you, lift up your head as he fucks you from the back just to see your pretty tears as you cry and tell him how bad his dick is hurting you. but they have to share. and your mouth does just as good. you’re so pretty like this anyway, they both agree on that. hair pulled up in kaiser’s tattooed fist, tears rolling down your cheeks, lips all bruised and reddened, rosy red cheeks and a red nose, big eyes wide open looking up at kaiser and then at sae, trying so hard to please them both. you’re a little people pleaser, always slaving away just to make the pair feel good. even with smaller gestures like eye contact.

even the way you move your face closer to the middle just to make it easier when they both start jerking off over your pretty face. make it easier for them to be able to cum all over your face. in your mouth, wherever they choose to. you don’t even like it, you think it’s gross and you feel oh so very used, but you still sit there and squeeze your eyes shut as you wait for both men to finish and paint you with their seed. you even perform after they’ve finished. licking up their cum so erotically, scooping it into your mouth with your fingers, devouring their cum like it’s the first meal you’ve had in ages. the cum you tell yourself you hate so much. you try so hard to convince yourself you don’t like to be treated this way, but when you look up at both of their faces after they’re done with you, how can you hate it? the way sae looks at you with softness only reserved for you, and kaiser pets your cheek almost sweetly after all the cruelness he inflicts on you. it’s so difficult to tell yourself you hate this, because you’re living the dream of so many girls.

it’s really difficult to hate it, especially when you make them get along. it’s sweet in a way. watching them work ironically harmonious to clean you up and get you in bed after you were so good for them. how sae strokes your back and plays with your hair as kaiser kisses you to sleep gently. it’s harder to hate it than it is to like it, so you should just give in, shouldn’t you?

sae has his hand on your head stroking it gently, and kaiser has his hand on your neck. he likes feeling your pulse against his fingers. and the softness of your breathing in your sleep. you’re out cold, they always tire you out this much. “she’s cute, isn’t she prodigy boy?” kaiser smirks at sae. he thinks the relationship the three of you have that keeps growing and growing is funny. sae usually isn’t talkative; he wouldn’t even entertain stupid questions like this in any other context, but here he just sighs and nods. “very.” his face doesn’t betray his true feelings, he feels guilty deep down. maybe him and kaiser are the lukewarm ones, unable to give you what you deserve; a real relationship. not this. they do love you, he’s sure of it, he knows he loves you infact, as embarrassing as it is to admit, even inside. but they can’t not share you; they like you too much. you don’t deserve this but what can they even do against it? kaiser feels the same guilt, he’s mean with you, projecting his past and his need to be the best onto your fragile body. subjecting you to his malice for no reason at all. not giving you the normal relationship every girl your age craves. but this works best for them.

maybe they’re stupid for it, but they don’t mind indulging nonstop in this temporary pleasure, future be damned. future gratification is tenfold more important than this. everyone that’s smart knows that, especially this duo. but when they look at your exhausted, sleeping form between them in bed, they just share a knowing look.

how can they let you go now? you’re just too precious.

[kaisaerinlover]

blue lock boys who have a size kink

every time you put your shoes next to his, he’s reminded of how much bigger even his feet are than yours. your shoes are so cute, little flats with bows next to his muddy cleats that you’re always nagging him about leaving them there. but he doesn’t want to move them ‘cause he needs them close to the door, you stupid girl!

every time you both hang your coats up after being out anywhere whether it’s a fancy date or you dragged him to go do something with you, he notices how much smaller yours is than his. no wonder you’re always wanting to wear his, how does that little pink coat of yours ever keep you warm? the sleeves alone are almost half the size of his, man you’re small. he thinks it’s cute.

every time you’re doing the laundry and taking out one of his big hoodies, or his shirt, and you pile one of your tops you also washed on it. and he sees how much smaller it is than his. seeing how his clothes basically envelop yours, it looks like a house for those dainty milkmaid tops you love to wear so much. or those little tank tops that show off the curve of your tits so well. they’re so small, hell, your clothes are like the size of his torso, if even that. he’s reminded every time he sees this how cute you look in his jersey. the way it almost goes down to your knees if you don’t roll it up a bit.

every time you hold hands he realises how much smaller your hand is than his too. one of his hands could probably hold both of yours without ease. whenever he grabs your hand on a busy sidewalk and he feels your petite fingers curled up inside his fist. he thinks it’s cute. you’re like a little doll. or how his entire hand covers your face, how if he used two hands he could probably grab your head whole. and then there’s your hand on him, it’s barely even the size of his face. how when you scratch his head for him, give him a massage, anything, you have to use two hands ‘cause he’s just way bigger than you.

every time you sit next to each other, in the stands for a soccer game, the couch, the bed, on two fancy chairs at an event he’s dragged you to, the dining chairs of his parents house, he notices how small your legs are compared to his. how even the plumpness of your beautiful thighs (that he loves so dearly) can’t ever make up for the size of his legs. how he is forced to manspread when he sits down and stretch out his legs, and you sit there; thighs squished together, hands folded sweetly on your lap, with so much room to spare. sometimes your feet don’t even touch the floor. he finds it cute how you whine at him if his knee prods yours a little too much, and he just gives up in the end and puts that pretty little bag he bought you on your seat instead and picks you up to sit you on his lap. no matter how curvy you might be, or thin, or anything, you’re still no match for his significantly larger build.

every time you stand up, he’s forced to look down at you. even when he’s sitting, you still have to look up at him sometimes. sort of rare though, you’ll be just taller than him most of the time. he likes it, honestly the part of you he sees just as much as your face is the top of your head. he doesn’t mind it though, it’s so fucking cute. he likes the way you whine as he scratches your head condescendingly, or lovingly, depending on who. the way he likes to tease you so much about being so little. he likes your smaller stature, he feels like you’re more dependant on him. and he likes that somewhat, likes that you’re forced to ask him for help with some things. like when you cant quite reach something in the kitchen.

and he especially likes it every time you fuck, how he can pick you up and just sit him atop his cock. how you look so small even there. he can just manoeuvre you like a doll. or how he can just grab your ankles and fuck you hard into the bed. or how he can be so loving, sit you in his lap and kiss you, play with your hair as he buries himself inside you. how he can see his cock bulge in you, no matter if you have a little chub on that cute tummy of yours or not. that’s just how much bigger he is than you. he imagines whenever he fills you up with his seed your poor womb is probably full to the brim. hell, even your insides are small compared to him. is your body even built to hold as much cum as he fucks into you every night? he’s not sure, but he guesses you must like it, ‘cause you’ve never complained.

he loves to hold you, spoon you in the night after a long day. after he’s fucked you so hard, after your smaller legs failed to keep up with his long, effortless strides. how your small stature probably makes things that are so much easier for him difficult for you. and as you drool in his bed whilst he’s holding you, as you sleep in his arms like a little stuffed animal, he realises how much he loves you. how he loves how much smaller you are than him. how he probably has a size kink. also how he should probably sleep now, before he gets hard again thinking about his cute little pocket sized girlfriend.

yukimiya thinks it’s so cute. you’re just so precious. kunigami does too, you’re just so gentle and baby like, he just wants to take care of you. they both love how dependant you can be, but not in a vindictive way, you’re just so cute. they have to take care of you.

rin thinks you’re so fragile and sweet like this, the opposite to him. he loves it secretly too, even though he chastises you a lot for how many inconveniences your height causes him. he really does like being able to help you out.

sae plays it off, and doesn’t even mention it most of the time, but man does he love it too. if he could smirk, he would, every time you pleaded for his help in the kitchen. how small you are next to him in the stands as he watches his younger sibling play.

nagi likes it too, he’s so big and you’re so small, you’re the perfect companion in bed. and he likes draping himself over you. he says it’s a hassle when he has to grab you a glass from the kitchen cupboard, but he honestly likes it deep down. even if he has to lay on top of you for a few hours after, saying it tired him out so much.

kaiser thinks your dependency on him is so sweet, so innocent. he likes the power he has over you with something he didn’t even have to work for; your height. you’re just born inferior to him in that sense, and he gets such a kick out of it.

aiku loves it too, and he especially loves it in the bedroom. the guy is a horny bastard, he loves being able to position you however he wants as he fucks you so deeply. but he also loves ruffling your hair and laughing, loves your little arms next to his huge biceps. so cute.

isagi is a pretty average heighted guy, so the fact you’re so small is so endearing to him too. he just likes it, he feels extra like a man. and you think it’s cute too, how he’s so eager to assist you with everything. your boyfriend is a true gentleman!

[kaisaerinlover]

tw: mention of abuse

michael kaiser’s birthday, the twelfth to be precise, marked the first time he ever did something for himself. it’s when his life really began, when he finally started the long path of living for himself instead of just to serve as a punching bag for his piece of shit dad. a day when he became more than just a remnant of everything his mother left behind after she abandoned the small family that she began to build.

and now his twenty first birthday marks a new change in his life too. nine years after the fact. christmas means nothing to kaiser, so it means nothing to you too. kaiser doesn’t like getting gifts, they’re worthless to him. he has enough money, and was never taught how to react. but you are a gift within yourself, maybe the first one that he ever received. he knows he doesn’t know to act with you either, the same sadness he feels when he receives a present from somebody washing over him every time he mistreats you, his best gift. you’re the best thing within the possession of his cold hands and even colder heart; he swears he loves you. he loves you so much, you are everything and nothing all at once, he just can’t help himself.

he never gives himself a rest; after all, holidays are worthless to him. he doesn’t do christmas festivities, maybe he’ll take you to one of the many christmas markets berlin has to offer to get yourself some nice things, a sweet outing. a weak and cowardly apology for all the bad he does to you. he’s a fucking coward, he knows it. he can’t cover your bruises and cracks with cold hard cash forever, but you won’t care, you love him too. that’s the only festivity he doesn’t refuse to participate in. no rest and no breaks - he only has time for practice on christmas.

training in the empty club facility when everyone else is at home with their families, their wives, parents, hell some of his teammates have began building families already. he could never do that though, kaiser is a vindictive man; don’t let any of these words fool you into believing he is anything but evil and manipulative. kaiser knows himself what type of person he is. he knows he’s scum of the earth, but for the most part he simply doesn’t care. one of the very small amount of considerate things he has done is decide to not have children. he doesn’t want to hurt his own child someday, doesn’t want to have you pack up and leave just like his mother. doesn’t want to subject anyone to the torment he grew up with all those years ago. he only thinks he can’t fix all of the bad caused by his brutish nature to you with cash because even after almost a decade of being away from the shithead he’s forced to call his father, he still isn’t fully healed. hell, that’s why he takes it out on you so much. he kicks the ball extra hard at the thought of that. he’s a real piece of work, and if he wasn’t so selfish, he would leave you. it’s best for you anyway.

on the walk home in the snow he ponders hard. he didn’t want kids, so why did he allow himself a girlfriend. kaiser is a selfish man, he’s a really fucking disgusting person (don’t doubt it, seriously) so why is he indulging himself with you? he’s not quite sure himself, he also refuses to acknowledge the warmth that grew and expanded since he met you and passed time with you. he didn’t drive today, the streets are cold and quiet and he likes the alone time. the winter is cold and lonely, a fitting sentiment for him. solitude matches him the best, which again leads to the question, why does he indulge himself in you so much? he’s trudging through the snow on the path, fresh snow. pure white and innocent snow. it reminds him of you. you’re so sweet, pliable, innocent. everything he isn’t. every crunch he hears from under his boots, every piece of dirt he imagines he’s leaving in his trail; it reminds him of you. how he’s so scared to corrupt you. but he only thinks of the negatives and never the positives. stupid micha, doesn’t he realise the snow is still falling? fresh snow covering his tracks, covering the dirt and cleansing all of the bad - of course he doesn’t think of that, this man is so in his head!

stepping into the warmth of his lavish house is liberating. a stark contrast from the cold nonstop nipping at his nose. the man is white as the snow outside, his face probably looks ridiculously red. he lazily kicks off his boots and unzips his coat and tosses it across one of the stools for the kitchen island; you’ll clean it up anyway, you always do.

he glances at your empty cup on the island. it’s cute and pink, like you. you’re so sweet. but he’s a little disheartened, you’re probably asleep already. he glances at the grandiose clock you insisted you had to buy for the kitchen which sits on the wall above a picture of you two sitting next to each other. it’s 11pm, he didn’t realise it was so late. no wonder he’s so worn out. he lazily crosses off the 24th before he trudges upstairs and goes to bed. he smiled a bit when he did, you decorated the 25th with such cute stickers and a big pink heart drawn around it. you’d never forget his birthday, even if he wanted you to oh so desperately. sweet angel that you are.

he strips and flops into bed next to you, feeling your warmth and gentle breathing is enough to lull him to sleep instantaneously. he’ll shower in the morning, he can’t be fucking bothered right now; cut him some slack too, it’s his birthday!

as soon as you hear him snore you jolt up. michael kaiser you will not escape your birthday, you promise him that in your head. missing christmas is a crime in itself that maybe you can let slide (well not really, he always indulges you and lets you put up a few decorations around the house. but you digress.)

you work yourself tirelessly putting up birthday decorations and getting the food you had baked by a pretty expensive baker a few days ago for him, and you also baked him a cake yourself. you’re surprised he didn’t notice the white boxes in the fridge, but honestly christmas season is when he stresses himself out the most with soccer; so it doesn’t surprise you the more you think about it. he must be really tired ‘cause you almost fell down trying to hang up the big ribbon banner at least five times and not once was he awoken by the nuances of the night caused by your sub par decorating abilities.

kaiser is awoken suddenly, and he jolts up confused and (embarrassingly) a bit frightened. but he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your big eyes in front of his face blinking. he’d be a bit alarmed if it was anyone else but you’ve always been a bit of an odd one, so he just brings his hand up to lightly pet your cheek as he yawns. “morning engel, why are you all up in my face, it’s too early” his voice is really hot after he’s just woken up, you observe. “micha, it’s your birthday” you say in an oh so monotone voice. he knows it’s his birthday, so why are you telling him this?

his question is answered when you throw yourself on the bed out of his face in exhaustion and he sees what you’ve done to your shared room. balloons and a nice happy birthday banner across the wall directly infront of your bed, ribbons everywhere, sweetly wrapped gift boxes and a bowl of his favourite garlic bread rust sitting next to a birthday cake and cupcakes. he’s actually in awe, like, really. he doesn’t know how to react at all. he just looks at your form flopped down on the bed in exhaustion and feels even worse seeing the bruises he’s left on you before, feels even more guilty for all the harsh obscenities he’s shouted at you more times than any normal person would like to admit. he swallows the build up of saliva caught in his mouth he didn’t even realise was there.

“das alles ist für mich...? du hast das getan...?” he swallows again. his throat is so dry, his voice shakes a little. he really can’t believe it. he is showered in love every day by adoring fans and the whole nation of germany. the whole world for that matter, he’s one of the best players of today. he’s a prodigy, a gem, a talent and everything else synonymous to this. yet all the love and adoration thrown at him by all of these people cannot even compare even by a tiny fraction to your love. your adoration. the way you cherish him. he’s so blessed, he never believed in gods before, he believes in the impossible but not those types of things. he’s not a follower he’s a leader, he is the only god. but jesus fucking christ, god has to be real. you must be one of his angels, he swears it. you’re way too fucking good to be true.

you prop yourself up on your elbows to answer him, “ja, who else?” and kaiser’s eyes seriously water, he’s not even the emotional type, but he’s a bit moved. he also tries to uphold that stoic front of his, but man, he’s just so affected by this. in a good way; at least he thinks it’s good. he just can’t hold it anymore and shifts to pin you down to the bed and kiss your face all over. he feels even more bad about the black eye he gave you too. you’re too good for him, you really are. he feels his heart clench a bit; an unknown sensation. he loves you so much, he really does, and he knows he’s so disgusting sometimes and he doesn’t show it, but he promises he does. he shoves his tongue down your throat and grips your wrists so tight they could shatter, but he doesn’t care. he’s so fucking in love with you, you’re so fucking sweet. you’re panting for air and you’re seriously in pain from his rough display of love, but when are you not hurt by this man? you are light and he is dark, you are an angel and he’s the sin of man embodied. you are every single good thing in this universe and he is the complete opposite. you both acknowledge this, and usually he relishes in the dynamic. but he feels so guilty. you’re as sweet as sugar. he’s kissing you so hungrily; as if he wants to eat you.

when he finally pulls away, he’s hovering over you. his hair is so beautiful, he’s so beautiful like this. you have to blow a piece of his hair out of your eye, and he laughs. you’re priceless, you really are. you’re so cute. so special. you’re everything. holidays and birthdays were always foreign to him. he doesn’t care for them at all - or didn’t. he does now, he really fucking does. love does that to you. he’s so glad he took the risk, took a risk of dating you, found someone so angelic. so perfect for him. he can’t help but think about what his 12 year old self would think of this. if he would have even believed he would have someone so loving and compliant by his side ever in his life. believed that he was anything other than a worthless piece of shit.

all the years of pain and longing for a love which he believed could never be bestowed upon a man of his caricature paid off. all the time he (begrudgingly) yearned for love. for a partner. a princess to call his own. the lonely emperor who wanted nothing more than to be treated as if he was someone special and meant something. he’s so emotional, very rare for him. he’s so emotional seeing how much he means to you. how much you’re willing to do. and for the first time in his life, he feels joy on his birthday. “prinzessin, i love you” he leans down to whisper in your ear. and you giggle and kick your legs as much as you can beneath him like a giddy schoolgirl. “love you too micha, you deserve the world”

he doesn’t know how you do it, how you can act like this despite the way he treats you. he knows he’s a manipulative asshole, but he never took the time to care about anything other than himself and maybe you. but now he almost feels sorry. almost feels like his heart could open up into a black hole and swallow him up for doing this to someone so sweet. but he told you before, if you didn’t like this you could just leave (he’d never let that). you also told yourself something, you would fix this man. you’re an empath. a pure soul full of compassion. you’re as broken as he is. maybe that’s why you stayed, why you grew to like the toxicity, why you believed you could fix him. and it’s paying off.

you did get up eventually, to sit on the floor and open the gifts he got from yours truly. you’re in pink panties a pink bra and his jersey, currently getting frosting all over it from a slice of cake he cut for you. isn’t it funny, this jersey would go for thousands on the internet, so many fangirls would kill to be wearing this. and you’re messing it all up. his piece is sitting next to him as he holds a particularly sentimental gift from you in his hands and stares down at it. he doesn’t know how to react. he never did know how to react to gifts. but he wishes you knew how grateful he is for you. so grateful that you stay through all of this.

you do know, you really do.

hours later and his pure unbridled joy is yet to die down. you’re spoon feeding him cake as you’re both sat on the floor laughing. the pains that his birthday brought him are forgotten for now, as are the injuries he inflicted upon you. the holes in the wall he leaves when he’s angry are covered with decorations. the small specks of blood adorning the floor from a particularly nasty nosebleed you had caused by his fist are hidden by the wrapping paper from all of the thoughtful gifts you bought for him. his tattooed hand is on the floor ontop of your smaller one. the crown covering your own. his princess.

michael kaiser was born on christmas, he was a gift his parents neglected. weren’t grateful for. a gift to his parents that they didn’t even realise. a gift to the soccer world. a gift for you. special gift for you. the best gift you could ever receive. so you’ll treat him like that, despite the violence. you are so empathetic to him. so sweet. kaiser deserves the world he really does.

and as he watches you giggle as you feed him cake and eat spoonfuls for yourself too, he realises you’re a gift too. you’re not born on any particularly noticeable holiday the way he is. but your birthday is the biggest celebration in itself. he’s so thankful to whatever god decided to grace the world with your presence and then send you in his direction. his eyes are so soft for once and he wears a small smile. let’s forget about all of the violence and anger, all of the sadness, the shattered and messily glued back pieces of the little boy he truly is for once. let’s just have fun.

he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes so deeply. “you are the best gift i could ever ask for, mein schatz”

[slutreputation]

cw⌇ shower sex in the stadium

“You score a goal,” you whispered against his ear before the match, voice sultry and smug, “And I’ll let you fuck me in the showers.”

That was all it took. He’d already been bouncing in place, rabid with energy, grinning like the devil as he tugged his jersey down. But the second those words hit his ears his whole body went still for a breath. Then he turned to you with a grin that could crack open hell.

“Baby,” he growled, eyes dark and wild. “I’m scoring two.”

And he did. He tore across the pitch like a madman, playing on edge, all elbows and heat and brute talent. Every shot he took was pure hunger and when he found the net twice, he didn’t even celebrate. Just stared straight at you through the fence, jaw clenched, fists tight, sweat rolling down his face like it burned.

You’d lit the fuse and now you had to burn with him.

The final whistle had barely echoed when he found you. Shidou grabbed your wrist the second you stepped off the sidelines, yanking you through the narrow hallways with no care for who saw or who followed. The showers hissed in the background, steam already curling through the air, hot and thick and blinding. He slammed you against the tiled wall the moment you were alone.

“You promised,” he growled, already kicking the door shut behind him. “You said if I scored—”

You cut him off with a kiss, biting his lower lip, tasting the salt and heat of victory. “I said I’d let you fuck me in the showers,” you whispered against his mouth.

“So let me.”

His cleats squeaked across the tile as he shoved you deeper into the fog. Big hands everywhere, grabbing your hips, pulling your shorts down, teeth scraping your throat. He didn’t undress. He just turned you around, bent you slightly at the waist and shoved your underwear to the side. His cock was hard against your thigh, still trapped in his damp compression shorts, but you could feel the angry, hot pulse of it. When he freed himself it slapped against your ass with a wet sound that echoed.

“You feel that?” he hissed. “This is what you do to me.”

You moaned, barely able to brace yourself against the slick wall as he shoved inside you with one powerful thrust. The air left your lungs. He filled you so fast, so deep, it made your knees buckle. But his hands were there, gripping your waist tight, holding you in place as he started to spoil you with raw, filthy thrusts that made the water splash around your ankles and the tile quake beneath your feet. Shidou fucked like he played. Unrelenting, chaotic, shameless. The steam clung to his skin and made every sharp inhale sound louder, wetter, needier.

“You think I play good for the team?” he grunted against your ear, thrusting harder. “I played for you, baby. For this. For this tight fuckin’ cunt.”

You couldn’t speak. Each thrust punched a moan out of you, louder than you meant, bouncing off the wet tiles.

“Fuck, listen to that,” he panted. “You hear how wet you are? You wanted this all game.”

His fingers dipped down between your thighs, found your clit, rubbed it fast and cruel while he pounded into you from behind. The pressure built too quickly, your legs shaking, your mouth falling open as pleasure curled low and hot in your gut.

“Gonna cum already?” he taunted, licking a stripe up your neck. “I haven’t even finished yet.”

He fucked you through it anyway. Asshole didn’t even let up. Not when you clenched around him, not when you came with a cry half-swallowed by the mist. He held you right there and fucked you through your orgasm, then kept going. Hips slapping, voice breaking, body trembling against yours as he chased his own high. His orgasm followed and it was brutal, explosive. He came deep, groaning into your neck as his cock pulsed and spilled inside you, hips still twitching even as he slumped against your back. Steam clung to every inch of your skin. Water poured down from the ceiling in waves. The scent of sex and sweat lingered like victory.

Shidou laughed softly, out of breath, pressing a kiss to your soaked shoulder. “You better tell me to score next game too.”

[randomghostfriend]

👑💜𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓡𝓮𝓸❣❢💜👑

[slutreputation]

cw⌇ you’re mad at sae, so he fucks you until you forgive him

The tension in the room was like a wall she refused to break. She sat on the couch with her knees tucked up, face turned toward the TV, pretending he wasn’t standing there watching her like he could see right through the act.

“Still mad?” Sae asked, voice so flat it was impossible to tell if he was mocking or testing her.

She didn’t look at him, because she was furious. He hummed low in his throat, the sound sliding over her nerves, and then he was stepping in close enough for his knees to press into the couch cushion between hers.

“Alright,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed her ear, “I’ll make you say it.”

Sae was nothing, but a force as he manhandled her before she even realized what he had planned. Her shorts were gone and her panties just pushed aside. He shoved his sweats down, low enough to free his cock that got harder and harder at the sight of her.

Her face stayed fiercely neutral as he dragged the tip of his cock along her slut. Despite the argument he wouldn’t fuck her if she was dry. But she was wet and so he went in. A slow, brutal stretch until she was full of him. Her breath hitched.

“You’re really gonna keep pretending?” his hips rolled, dragging along her walls so deliberately slow it made heat coil low in her stomach. “Fine. Then I’ll keep doing this.”

It was infuriating.

He wasn’t pounding into her, wasn’t letting her get lost in the pace. Every time she started to melt, he pulled back to that maddening, lazy grind, cock brushing exactly where she needed but never enough to tip her over.

Her fingers twitched against the cushion. “Sae…”

“Mm?” he drawled, mouth brushing her jaw. “You wanna cum already? That’s cute.”

She glared at him and he smirked. “You can. Just tell me you forgive me.”

Her lips stayed pressed shut. What had him fallen for her back then, or one of the reasons, was her pride. And it wouldn’t shatter now for a bit of dicking down.

“Then no,” he said simply, thrusting deep enough to make her gasp but pulling back before she could chase it. “You don’t get it until I hear you say it.”

Minutes turned into something else entirely. He was holding her there, keeping her teetering right at the edge, every nerve in her body screaming for release. Her thighs trembled, nails digging into the couch.

“I can do this all night, pretty girl,” he whispered maddeningly calm it made her clench around him. “I’ve got nowhere else to be. Do you?”

She hated how close she was, how much her pride was starting to crack. Every deep, slow thrust was a threat, his hands holding her hips in place so she couldn’t escape.

“You’re gonna cum so hard,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, “But only if you say it.”

There was this tiny flicker. That crack Sae couldn’t hide behind his teal eyes - that desperate need to have her forgive him.

Finally her voice cracked, “I forgive you.”

He didn’t even pretend not to hear the desperation in it.

His mouth curved into the faintest, most self-satisfied smile before his hips snapped forward, pace turning merciless. “That’s my girl.”

Her orgasm hit instantly, ripping through her so hard her back arched, her nails clawing at his hoodie. Sae held her through it, still fucking into her, his own groan rough in her ear.

When it was over, she was sprawled and trembling, and he was leaning over her with a smirk. “See? We could’ve done that twenty minutes ago.”

… asshole. Once her thighs stopped trembling she’d fight him again!

[itoshiabi]

Ok guys so, @randomghostfriend drew this for me! This is apparently my birthday gift from her!!! I think I'm going to cry because this is just so sweet! So far the best birthday gift I've received ahhhhhhhhhhhhh

[randomghostfriend]

🐝 💛 𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝑒❣ 💛 🐝

[slutreputation]

cw ⌇ limousine sex ◞ oral f.receiving

The limousine door shut behind you with a soft, mechanical hiss, sealing out the noise of the city. The cabin was dim, lit only by the glow of passing headlights and the soft ambient lights embedded in the ceiling. The silence inside was thick.

Kaiser sat beside you in his suit, legs spread slightly, posture relaxed but tense in the smallest ways. His hands rested on his thighs, but you could see the way his fingers flexed. He was watching you.

The evening’s event had left you dressed in a figure-hugging gown, deep blue silk clinging to every curve. The neckline dipped low, revealing the elegant line of your collarbones and the soft swell of your chest. One leg was crossed over the other, the slit in your dress exposing skin from midthigh to ankle. You knew what you looked like, more so how you felt under his gaze, powerful and desired.

You turned your head and met his eyes. He didn’t say anything. He reached for you slowly, and let his fingertips graze your thigh just above the slit in your dress. His touch was warm, goosebumps spreading across your skin. When you didn’t pull away, he slid his hand higher, easing your legs apart with a gentle but possessive grip.

His breath hitched softly, and you exhaled, your eyes never leaving his.

Kaiser moved toward you. His hand lifted the hem of your gown, baring the soft skin of your inner thighs. His other hand reached for his tie, loosening it with a practiced flick of his fingers, eyes darkening with every inch of exposed skin he uncovered. He knelt between your legs in the plush seat, the heat of his body radiating against yours. When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties you lifted your hips, letting him slide them down without resistance.

Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to you. The first stroke of his tongue was slow, deep and utterly unhurried. His mouth worshipped your cunt with quiet reverence, like he had all the time in the world to taste you and would still never get enough.

His hands held your thighs open, thumbs pressing into the softest parts of you, while his tongue traced lazy, teasing patterns over your clit. You bit your lip to stifle the moan building in your throat.

The movement of the car rocked you gently, only adding to the surreal, breathless pleasure of the moment. Outside the city passed in a blur of light and motion. Inside your world narrowed down to the feel of Kaiser’s mouth and the heat building in your belly.

He glanced up at you with half-lidded eyes, his lips slick with your arousal. The way he looked at you then, full of hunger and control, made your breath catch in your chest.

You came with a soft gasp, thighs trembling against his grip, your hips lifting into his mouth as your climax rolled through you in slow, aching waves. Kaiser didn’t stop until your legs were weak and your hands clutched at his shoulders, needing something to anchor yourself to.

Only then did he rise, kissing the inside of your knee one last time before sliding his hands up your body and capturing your mouth with his. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as his hands settled on your waist. The heat between your legs hadn’t lessened. It had only shifted. His cock was hard, pressing against the inside of his slacks, straining for release.

You reached down, unfastening his belt. Once you freed him, he guided you back against the leather seat and pushed your dress up to your waist. With a breathless pause, he positioned himself between your legs and slid into you in one slow, fluid motion.

You both exhaled at the same time. The stretch of him filled you so completely that your head tipped back against the seat. He began to move, thrusting into you with deep, smooth strokes. His pace was steady, sensual, driven by something quieter than lust. Something that felt far more dangerous.

The air around you pulsed with heat. His fingers dug into your hips, his forehead dropping to yours, breath brushing against your cheek. Every thrust made your body arch into his, and still, neither of you spoke. There were only soft, desperate sounds. The wet slide of his cock inside you, the low grunts in his throat, the way your breath caught every time he hit that perfect angle.

You came again, this time slower, a drawn-out high that left you shaking beneath him. Kaiser followed not long after, spilling deep inside you with a trembling moan against your neck. He stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing hard, one hand resting on your thigh as if he couldn’t bear to let you go just yet.

When he finally pulled back, he smoothed your dress down gently and reached out to brush a finger down your cheek. You looked up at him, still flushed and dazed, but he only smiled.

The car continued on, silent and smooth. No words were exchanged, because they weren’t needed.

[slutreputation]

cw ⌇ blowjob

The kiss was slow and familiar. His lips warm against yours, his hand gentle beneath your jaw as you leaned into him. You were straddling his lap on the couch, legs tucked around his hips, your skirt bunched at your thighs. The low hum of music buzzed in the background, but all you could hear was the rhythm of his breathing.

You’d kissed before. Plenty of times actually. Lingering touches, wandering hands, but it had never gone farther.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Your lips were still parted when you whispered, “Can I…?”

He blinked, almost surprised, but he didn’t ask what you meant. His hands settled on your waist. “You sure?”

You nodded. Before he could say anything else, you slid off his lap and knelt between his legs on the plush living room rug. The sound of his breath hitching was enough to make your thighs press together. You glanced up and he was watching you. Shoulders stiff, hands resting on his thighs, trying to hold still. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his chest rose with each breath.

You reached for the waistband of his sweatpants and gave it a gentle tug. He lifted his hips slightly. When you pulled his cock free, it was already hard, and long, flushed, twitching under your fingers. You wrapped your hand around the BASE, slowly stroking, watching his expression shift.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re really doing this.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. He exhaled sharply. Then you took him into your mouth, only the head for now, letting your tongue swirl over the sensitive ridge, tasting the salt of pre-cum as your lips sealed around him. His thighs tensed immediately. His hand flew up, burying itself in your hair without pulling, just holding.

“Shit,” he breathed. “That’s…fuck, you feel good.”

Your pace stayed slow, letting him adjust. You eased down, taking more of him into your mouth, working your hand along what your lips couldn’t reach. Your eyes stayed locked on his the whole time. He groaned again softly, but raw.

“God, your mouth…” he swallowed hard, jaw clenching. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

You moaned around him, and the vibration made his hips Twitch. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, not guiding, not controlling, but reacting. You hollowed your cheeks a little, bobbing your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock with every pull.

“Look at you…” he murmured, low and wrecked. “On your knees for me.”

You felt him throb in your mouth, and that alone made heat pool in your stomach. You shifted, thighs pressing together, letting your hand pump him at the BASE as your mouth worked him in wet, messy rhythm. Sae leaned back against the couch, head tipped slightly, breath shaky.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” his voice broke into a whisper. “You have no idea.”

You pulled off for a second. Lips wet, a string of saliva connecting your tongue to his tip. Your hand kept stroking him, and you looked up at him through your lashes. He was flushed. His brows were furrowed. His fingers flexed in your hair.

“Don’t stop,” he said. That time, it wasn’t a request.

You smirked softly and took him back into your mouth. This time, you let your tongue swirl more, let yourself get a little messier. You started to hum low, letting the vibrations hit him deep. He groaned, low and broken. Your tongue pressed into the slit of his crown and his hips jerked uncontrolled.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” his voice was barely above a breath. “So fucking good for me.”

You sucked harder. And when you felt his thighs tremble beneath your hands and his breath stutter, you knew he was close.

“Shit. I’m gonna…” he muttered, eyes half-lidded. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum—”

But you didn’t stop. You went deeper, one hand cupping his balls, the other stroking what you couldn’t take. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing around him, soft moans echoing through your throat as he gasped and clenched in your hair. His whole body shuddered.

It was the only time you’d ever seen Sae look so undone.

When you finally pulled back, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, still breathless. He reached out instantly, pulling you up and onto his lap, one hand cradling the back of your head. He kissed you deeply, reverent. Like he needed to taste you all over again. When he finally leaned back, he looked at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life.

“Next time,” he said, voice low in your ear, “I’m returning the favor.”

[slutreputation]

Cuddling turned into kissing. Kissing turned into moaning. And before either of you realized it, Isagi had his hands all over you, stuttering “Are you sure?” as if he wasn’t already halfway in love and one pelvic thrust from owning you finally completely.

The sex? Beautiful. Sloppy. A little shy, but desperate and real. You pulled his hair. He gasped like he’d never been touched. He whispered your name with reverence and worship.

But then, you’re lying there, both of you sweaty and spent, your head on his chest and that’s when it happens. His hand starts twitching like he’s holding a damn whiteboard marker.

“You know,” he begins, staring up at the ceiling. Apparently seeing something else entirely, “You completely changed tempo midway through.”

“Tempo?” you blink to your man.

“Yeah. First you were slow and kinda teasing. I could read your rhythm. But then when you started rolling your hips? That shift caught me off guard. I didn’t recover fast enough.”

Your mouth falls open - he’s analyzing… sex.

“I was controlling pace early on. But I lost dominance after you said ‘just like that.’ that was a feint mental manipulation. You broke my defense line.”

You sit up. “Yoichi, are you doing a match review of our first time?”

He looks at you, dead serious. “How else am I supposed to improve?”

You snort so hard it turns into a wheeze.

He sits up too, eyes sparkling with genuine intensity. “No, seriously. You’re unpredictable. It’s like one second you’re kissing me gently, then the next—bam—sudden top position. No warning. That flipped the momentum.”

He pulls a notebook out of his bag. “Okay, so if I were to score myself out of 100—stamina was decent. A bit sloppy with the rhythm near the end. Positioning was okay, but I overextended my thrust range. Could tighten my form.”

“Yoichi.”

“What?” he blinks innocently. “I’m just saying that your moan at minute 13 was the clutch moment. I felt like I scored a hat-trick.”

You throw a pillow at his head. “You’re insane.”

He catches it and smiles. “Maybe. But I’m only insane for you.” and then he pins you back down on the bed. “So… rematch?”

You nod. He’s already on top of you again, flushed and focused. But this time, he’s not nervous. He’s calculating. Too calculating.

“Alright,” he mutters, gripping your thighs like he’s setting up for a corner kick. “This time, I’m not letting you dominate possession.”

Wait. What? Before you can question it, he pushes his thick cock back into you with precision. His hips grind against yours like he knows the angle and studied it.

“Pace control,” he mumbles into your neck. “Starting slow. Gonna build pressure.” you moan loudly and he smirks. “See? That reaction? Predictable now. Read it like a counterattack.”

You choke on a gasp as he thrusts harder, more focused now, body pressing you into the bed.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans. “Like scoring the perfect goal. You’re my golden ratio.”

You’re barely alive as he rails you into the mattress.

“I adjusted my stroke depth too,” he mutters. “Less over-penetration. More friction—fuck—better scoring chances.”

“Yoichi.”

“Shh, baby. I’m in control of the midfield.”

His hand snakes around your throat to ground you there while he pounds into you with ruthless precision. He’s sweaty. His hair’s in his eyes. He growls when you clench around him.

“Don’t squeeze like that unless you’re trying to make me lose the lead,” he breathes, laughing through a groan. “But I won’t choke in the final minutes.”

You’re crying now, and moaning his name like a chant.

“That’s it. Keep chanting. Stadium’s full. You’re cheering for me.” he leans down, forehead to yours. “You’re my win condition, baby. My only goal. You hear me?”

Your legs are shaking. Your mind’s gone. He fucks you through one more orgasm, then holds you tight when you collapse.

“Post-game interview time,” he says breathlessly, kissing your forehead. “Rate that out of 10.”

“Negative 300,” you mumble. “You’re not real.”

He grins. “Cool. Now let’s see how you hold up in extra time.”

[lumiambrose]

ruined for you ft. Tabito Karasu

・❥・smut mdni, it's hard to tell whether karasu loves or hates you when he's balls deep inside of you

you don't even remember how it started. doesn't matter. what matters is karasu's cock splitting you open from behind, one gloved hand pressed flat against your lower back like he's making a point. you're already so far gone you can barely hold yourself up on your elbows.

"pathetic," he breathes, it sounds almost fond. almost. "look at you."

you whimper. he thrusts deeper, hips snapping sharp and exact and the wet slap of skin fills the room like a second voice.

"can't even take it properly." he clicks his tongue, but his grip on your hip tightens, the leather of his glove cool against your flushed skin, possessive in a way that makes your stomach clench. "thought you could handle me. that's genuinely embarrassing."

"k-karasu—"

"shh." he leans over you, chest almost brushing your back, his mouth just behind your ear. "you were going to say something? go on. let's hear it."

you open your mouth and nothing coherent comes out. just a broken little sound, high and wet, because he rolls his hips at just the right angle and you see white.

"mhm." satisfied. smug. "that's what i thought."

but then his thumb finds your clit, pressing in slow circles and his voice drops. shifts. like there's another person underneath the sharp edges of him.

"you're doing well," he murmurs, barely audible. "so perfect f'me"

it hits you harder than the degradation. his praise always does, maybe because it's so rare, maybe because when karasu calls something good he actually means it. no empty compliments, just the truth from the mouth of someone who never bothers softening things.

"t-too good, it's— hah—" you stammer, trying to say something stupid about how it's too much, but he doesn't slow down. he speeds up.

"it's all you, baby," he says, clinical and cutting, fucking you through every word. "you're so tight around me."

you sob. actually sob. shoulders shaking, face half-buried in the pillow, tears and drool and the animal sounds you've stopped trying to muffle all whilst karasu watches. you can feel it even without looking, those blue eyes cataloguing every small collapse of your composure like he's reading the field from above.

"you're leaking," he observes, thumb circling faster. "everywhere. all over me. filthy slut." a pause, his cock grinding deep, stationary for one brutal moment that makes your thighs tremble. "my filthy, pretty slut."

"i can't— nghh— please—"

"please what. use your words."

"wanna— wanna come, please, karasu—"

he hums, considering, the bastard. like he hasn't already decided. like this is still up for debate.

"fine," he says. "since you asked nicely. you've been taking me so well." that last part delivered so quietly you almost miss it under the noise of your own breathing.

his thumb presses harder. his hips find a rhythm that's less calculated now, more desperate, the composed surface of him finally starting to crack at the seams and you can hear it in his breathing too. the catch, the roughness, the way he exhales your name once like he didn't mean to.

you come apart. messily, completely, clenching around him so hard he curses under his breath, something short and sharp. he follows suit, burying himself to the hilt with a stuttered thrust and going still.

a short moment passes before you feel him pull out slowly, hear the quiet sounds of him composing himself whilst you just lie there in the wreckage of it. thighs slick, sheets damp beneath you, cheek sticky against the pillow. your mascara is everywhere. you can feel it.

his gloved hand smooths up your spine. once. slow.

"you did well," he breaks the silencer, cupping your cheek with his hand

you turn your head enough to look at him. he's not looking at you, he's looking just past you, jaw set, mole under his eye catching the light, that careful expression he wears when something got too close to the real version of him.

"karasu."

"don't," he says. flat. but he doesn't move his hand.

you smile into the pillow. wrecked and dazed and entirely undone, and smiling, because he's still there. gloved hand on your back like an anchor. or maybe a confession.

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©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[slutreputation]

Rin was silent. Not because he didn’t feel. But because when he did, it came out in filthy, shattering waves that left you breathless.

He had you on your knees, wrists bound behind your back, cheek pressed to the sheets. His cock slid in deep, slow and devastatingly steady. His hand gripped your hip like he was grounding himself.

“This is how you learn,” he said roughly. “You want to test my patience? You get punished.”

You moaned. He didn’t slow.

“I said,” he growled, thrusting, “Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m sorry, Rin.”

“Too late.”

His pace changed. He went harder now, deeper, merciless. Every inch of him claimed you, every thrust punctuated by the sound of skin and your wrecked voice crying his name. You failed trying to hold on.

“You want to come?” he whispered, leaning in, his breath hot against your spine. “Beg.”

You did. Shaking. Crying. Pathetic. He loved it. And when he gave you permission, your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. It wrecked violently through you.

Rin followed with a low groan, burying himself to the Hilt. He stayed inside you, panting and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Next time,” he murmured, “Listen the first time.”

[kill3ill]

fucking the school loser behind your bf's back — 18+

⤿ pt i here!

he groans lowly and grabs for your waist, tugging you into him and kissing you messily. he doesn't let you catch your breath for a second, merely scooping you up with his hands under your thighs while he carries you, lips on yours, to his car out in the lot behind the football field.

your hands tangle up in his hair while your tongue rolls over his. for someone as strange and unsettling as him, he tastes oddly pleasant, like mint and smoke. his lips, though chapped, mould on yours so perfectly that it feels like he's made for you. he squeezes your thighs and nips your lower lip, murmuring into your mouth, "you're not walking into that stadium again unless it's with my cum dripping out of you."

you moan into his thought, warm and fuzzy at the idea of him breeding you in the back of his car and making you walk back to the pitch when he's done with his cum stuffed in you and dripping out every step you take.

your arms lace tighter around his shoulders as you go back to kissing him, tilting your head to get the perfect angle of your tongue against his, and your mewls get louder when you do. "mmh, mmh..." you hum softly.

his mouth moves against yours urgently, almost as if he's starving. his tongue slides against yours as he walks with you in his arms, slotting into your mouth in messy, wet strokes that make heatwaves travel through your body and pool at your core.

"you taste so sweet," you can feel how hard he's breathing and he squeezes you tightly like you might run away and never talk to him again after this.

you pull back just enough to breathe and he chases after you, lips dragging down to your jaw, your neck, his mouth warm and frantic. "don't stop," he mumbles against your skin, breath hot, voice wrecked. "give it back t'me. come on, pretty. kiss me again." 

you oblige and shove your mouth back into his just as he reaches his sleek car, and he fists his pocket to find his keys, unlocking it without pulling away from you, and lays you down in the backseat under him with no effort. it smells like cedar and his natural, everyday scent. he doesn't let up off you for a second, already spreading your thighs apart so he can slot his body between your legs.

you're so small underneath him, pliant and needy and reaching up to tug at his clothes and his hair to ground yourself while he strips you fully, not wanting an inch of you covered. he could afford to do so, as his tinted windows and huge body hid you from any passerby that may wander near his car, though he doubts anyone would be anywhere but the game right now. anyone normal, of course. not little brats like you who wanna get pounded in the backseat of some social reject's car. 

he's quick to strip you of every article of clothing on you except for your cute knee high socks and the lacy stretch of your panties, which are now so soaked that they've become sticky and translucent and stick to the plump lips of your pussy. "look at the nasty lil' mess you made." he tuts, voice mocking as his thumb runs over the outline of your cunt through your panties, which makes you jolt and instinctively reach to claw at his hand.

"w-wait! 'm sensitive," you whine, extremely tender from cumming so much already, but he doesn't seem to care at all. he pushes you back into place, grabbing your wrists firmly and pinning them above you with one of his huge hands. "no shying away after you begged me to fuck you like a little whore. you're gettin' what you asked for." he says sternly, still rubbing you through your panties. 

you squirm beneath him, bucking up into his hand before wiggling away due to overstimulation. you don't know if you want more or less. your panties grind against his fingers, and he pushes his fingers up against your panties so your juices squelch and make a huge mess in your underwear.

he drags his thumb up slowly and presses just right against the swollen, soaked outline of your clit through the thin fabric, and you moan, high and whiny. he finally, finally pushes your panties aside, exposing your glistening cunt to the cool air of the car, and his eyes go hazy at the sight of the mess between your thighs. "fuck, you're so pretty down here," he mutters, fingers dipping into your folds, spreading you open with ease. he tosses your panties somewhere in the heap of your clothes at the floor of his car.

his fingers slip through your soaked, swollen folds easily, and he relishes in the little gasp you make as he notches his fingers knuckles deep inside you, twisting and curling his fingers immediately to stretch you out. his eyes are locked on the slick that strings from your pussy to the base of his fingers, and he groans in delight. you're this soaked for him. only him. he swirls his thumb around the tight ring of your asshole in the meantime, not pushing in yet, but to spread your slick around to your other hole too. "mmh, please, 'm sore," you whine, knowing how much you want it anyway.

"shh... you don't want me to stop. look at your pussy, she's gushing. didn't even need to prep you," he mocks, pumping his fingers into you fast and rough, your toes are curling against the leather backseat and your head lolls back, mouth falling open as loud moans leave you. you can't even respond anymore to tell him not to tease you, because your soaked cunt pulses every time he says something mean.

he pushes his fingers down inside you, the pads of his fingers resting still on that sweet spot deep inside you, while he fumbles with his belt and begins to tug down his pants and boxers. but too much pressure on such a sensitive spot inside you, which already experienced so much stimulation is far too much for you. you thrash underneath him, feeling a very odd coiling feeling in your tummy, and also the need to pee...

"w-wait-! take your fingers out, p-please, i think... i think 'm gonna..!"

he shushes you, slipping in a third finger. he uses all three of them to push down hard on that spot, and before you can stop yourself, you're gushing around his fingers intensely with a scream so loud he has to let go of your wrists to cover your mouth.

he freezes once you squirt around his fingers which remain buried deeply inside your fluttering walls, and as you gush all over his hand in several hard, uncontrollable pulses, his eyes go wide, pupils blown out, and he leans back slightly to watch. "...oh, fuck."

his voice is quiet at first, like he genuinely can't believe what he just saw.

he looks down at you, eyes flicking from your soaked pussy and thighs to your brightly flushed face, then back to the ruined state of your pussy. "you just..." he breathes, curling his fingers inside you experimentally, which makes you jerk under him and gush a little more around him. he's fascinated. a girl like you can't be real, can you? "...squirted on my fingers."

he doesn't even try to hide how turned on he is. despite cumming earlier from frotting with you back outside behind the bleachers, he's rock hard again, cock bulging at the front of his cum soaked pants. he lifts his soaked hand up and parts his fingers to look at the gooey strings between him, and then pushes two fingers into his mouth, licking at your juices. you squeak, embarrassed beyond belief and red in the face, but still too far gone to tell him how dirty he's making you feel right now.

moaning at your taste, he pulls his boxers down to rest at his knees with his jeans, and his fat cock springs up, swollen and flushed a bright red at the huge, flared tip, with several strings of pearlescent liquid clinging to the fabric of his discarded boxers and more leaking down the shaft. you're both soaked. he lets go of you just long enough to line himself up at your soaked entrance, nudging the tip through your folds and collecting your slick.  his other hand comes up to grab your throat, so he's holding you still, grounding you in place. 

he makes sure to stare into your eyes intently as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. he sinks in slow at first, just the thick, heavy head of his cock pressing into your fluttering hole, and you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes rolling back, feet digging into the seat.

you whimper, nails scrabbling at his shoulders the second he frees your hands to hold onto your throat and hips. he leans down to kiss you again while you adjust to his size, fat tip swelling at your womb while he rests inside you and swirls his tongue around yours. he starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling, grinding, both of you panting into each other's mouths, your thighs shaking with every bounce. he pulls back just a little to murmur against your lips, "mnhh, shit, this pussy's fuckin' choking me."

you cry out under him, overwhelmed by the stretch and the sensation of his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch. it burns, but it's good. your body clenches around him helplessly. "too much... mmmh.... s'too big," you babble, but your hips don't stop moving under him, fucking yourself onto his cock even as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"yeah?" he groans, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. "but you said please, baby. remember? begged me to fuck you. so take it." he bottoms in and out in rough thrusts that make your whole body jolt, ensuring each thrust has him fully inside you. you're so soaked that he slides in perfectly every time, your walls clinging to him deliciously while his cock also slips inside you with filthy, loud schlick's. he's sliding in like nothing, your walls clenching and sucking him in tighter with every thrust while your slick soaks his shaft. 

the car rocks as he thrusts into you, his cock splitting you open with each thrust deep inside you. your pussy stretches slightly to accommodate to is girth, and he feels his mind numbing at the way your pussy slurps him in with each thrust. he groans loud, head tipping back and his hand squeezing firmer around your throat to make your eyes flutter. not for long, though. he likes to look into your pretty eyes while he ruins you.

"open 'em," he demands, squeezing a little on the sides of your throat to jolt you back to the present. he slams into you with a particularly rough thrust, your tits bouncing and head lolling stupidly at the feeling of being fucked dumb on the school loser's huge fucking dick. "there you go. such a good girl f'me, aren't you?"

"uh... uh... uhhuhhh...." you breathe out stupidly, drool slipping past your parted lips. your fingers dig into his broad shoulders and then trail down his body, exploring his broad frame and muscles. before you look back into his eyes. he chuckles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your swollen lips, the gentleness contrasting the way he's pounding into you and holding your throat. "look at you." he hums. "forgot you're a disloyal little whore, didn't you?"

he snaps his hips up into yours, a small bulge forming in your tummy where he lodges his cock so deep inside you. "or maybe," he sneers, "you just don't care about anything but having your cunt stuffed to the brim."

you cry out, dragging him down so you can bury your face in his neck, and he kisses your jaw, fucking you while laying on top of you. "cum for me again," he demands, lips brushing your temple while his hips roll into yours. your legs tremble and curl around his waist, each thrust making your pussy flutter around him. you try to clamp down on him, but his girth makes it so difficult. 

he's splitting you open with every drag of his cock against your raw, plushy walls. sobbing into his skin, he mumbles filth into your ear while his hands travel down to your waist and he drags your body up effortlessly so his cock is tilted up inside you, the perfect angle for him to hit that same spongy spot inside you over and over, making your mouth drop open in a silent scream. you clamp around him hard, fingernails digging into the firm muscle of his back. the pressure inside you winds tight, tight, tighter...

" 'm cumming!"

you explode around him, pussy convulsing around his cock. your whole body seizes, a strangled moan ripping out of you while you cream around him uncontrollably. 

"look at you," he moans, watching your pussy pulse around him, fluttering on his cock like you were made for it. "holy shit, baby."

he pulls out just enough to see your slick gush after him before slamming back in, making you sob. he shoves your thighs up higher, practically folding you in half now, forcing you open wide so he can fuck even deeper. the wet, obscene sound of your cunt sucking him in grows louder with every thrust, echoing in the small space of the car, and he grits out, "you feel that? feel how deep i am? gonna fill you up, fuck, 'm gonna breed you."

your head spins and you nod frantically, moaning out broken, babbled yes's, even as tears slip from the corners of your eyes. 

he buries himself to the hilt and cums hotly inside with a deep groan, heavy, fat balls twitching as he empties them deep inside you, so much at once that you can feel your womb filling up to the hilt. he keeps you locked against him so all of it floods inside you. "ngh... 's such a fuckin' perfect pussy," he groans aloud, mouth falling open as he keeps filling you and filling you and filling you until your belly distends just slightly from the volume of his cum.

you're gasping, clinging to him, body limp beneath him while you both ride it out together. he pants into your mouth, breathing hard, kissing you through the aftershocks. his voice is low, barely audible, wrecked. "mine. fuckin' mine. look what you do to me."

he stays inside you, twitching every now and then as your fluttering walls milk him, your slick and his cum seeping out around the base of his cock.

_

you make your way back to the football field with wobbly legs and your cheeks flushed. you tried your best to fix yourself up before going back, raking your fingers through your hair, redoing your mascara and touching up your lip gloss, praying it hides how swollen and red he made your lips.

you put your hair down so any marks on your skin aren't visible, not that your dumbass boyfriend looks at you close enough to be able to tell. the loner's cum is still hot and thick inside you, leaking a little down your inner thighs with every step, wetting the inside of your cheer skirt while the rest pools into fat globs in your panties.

the crowd is screaming loudly and your cheer girls are bouncing and huddled up with the football team. the whole field is lit up in bright stadium lights, and no one is looking around for you right now. you use it as an opportunity to slide in through the back fence and under the bleachers to act like you'd been here the whole time, and you go to where the other cheerleaders are. unfortunately, you weren't as subtle as you thought.

ava, one of the girls in your year that you usually hang out with at lunch squeals and grabs your arm. causing the other girls to quickly turn their attention to you too. "where were you?" she screeches. "coach was looking for you!"

you blink coyly, rubbing the back of your neck to give the impression of being embarrassed. "i just really had to pee," you lie "mid routine, but then i couldn't find the right bathroom, an' i got mixed up and all of them had super long lines, and i'm so sorry, i was literally crying the whole time-" you sniffle. 

the girls coo over you. you're just too sweet and cute to be mad at. so sweet, that no one would ever think you just got fucked in the back of the school loser's car.

then, your boyfriend barrels into you, carrying the unpleasant scent of sweat from the exertion he produced while on the field. he yells your name and picks you up with both arms around your waist, causing a fresh scoop of cum to trickle out of you. you squeak, hoping it's not noticeable, and he spins you in a circle. "there you are!" he shouts, loud and giddy, "my girl! babe, we fucking crushed it!"

he kisses you hard, and you giggle awkwardly, letting him brag about his win like he didn't just get cheated on for the past hour and a half. "i was watching," you lie with a perfect little tilt of your head. "I saw everything! you did so good!."

and that's when he walks up. he stands out of the crowd on his own, mouth red, eyes low, and hair a little mussed. there are faint lipgloss marks on his neck and jaw that he didn't wipe off.

he's walked in like nothing's happened, stopping at the edge of the crowd with his gaze locked on you very blatantly. you stare back while in your boyfriend's arms, and he follows your gaze and scowls quickly, arms tightening around you. "the fuck is that guy looking at?" he snaps, his voice obnoxiously loud. "why is he staring at you like that?"

you blink innocently, letting your eyes go all wide and confused. "who?"

"him," your boyfriend hisses, nodding over your shoulder. "that fucking creep. what the hell is his problem?"

you shrug, still looking at him, not your boyfriend. "um... i dunno... maybe he's high?"

your boyfriend scoffs, and tugs you in closer like he's marking territory. "yeah, well, he can fuck off. that fucking freak's probably just scoping out girls he can perv out on. probably watches porn in his room all day."

he doesn't look away from you, even as your boyfriend runs his mouth. you wonder if he can still smell your perfume on his hoodie. you hug your boyfriend back and lean into him, coaxing him to just leave it. he obliges and carries you back to the crowd to celebrate, and you look over your shoulder one last time to see him finally turn and walk away.

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[kill3ill]

fucking the school loser behind your bf's back — 18+

⤿ pt ii here!

over you, the bleachers shake and rattle under the weight of the crowd jumping and cheering on it, and the overwhelming noise of the marching band creates a second heartbeat in your chest, but all of that dims when his mouth slots onto yours.

you're breathless quicker than you anticipated, lips swollen from being kissed for the last several minutes as your hands cling onto the smooth fabric of his jacket. you're still in your cute little cheer uniform, a tight, sequined crop top paired with a pleated skirt that ruffles up with every gust of wind. your hair, once perfectly styled, is now messy from him ruffling it up and tugging on it while he's kissing you, your lipgloss also smudged over both your mouths.

his hands slide up under your uniform top, long fingers squeezing your soft skin, first your hips, then waist, then your tits roughly like he's been dying to get his hands on you. he groans under his breath when he feels how soft you are there, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. "you don't even like him," he breathes against your mouth, voice quiet but arrogant. "y'gonna tell me he makes you feel like this, hm? wanna lie to yourself some more?"

you mewl quietly as his big hands grope your breasts under the lacy white bra you wore on purpose, not for your boyfriend, but for him. the creepy quiet guy with pale skin and dark circles and fingers long enough to get all the sweet spots deep inside you that your small fingers could never reach.

"i-he-" you start, voice all breathy. you try to come up with a good excuse for whatever it is you're doing with him behind your boyfriend's back, but he just scoffs. "exactly." he mumbles, lips trailing down your neck to the flesh of your throat, where he bites marks into the soft skin, sucking on the spot and running his tongue over it to soothe it. "y'don't even know what to say when i touch you like this, do you? dumb girl."

his teeth graze your jaw, and you easily tilt your head back to give him more access. you're so pliant for him, and he feels like he could tell you to do anything and you'd comply like a good girl. he backs you up against a fence, your cheer skirt bunching up around your hips. he's so turned on that you can feel his bulge bumping against you while he clings onto you, kissing back up to your mouth and sliding his tongue against yours sloppily.

"mmh... m-more, please, more," you mewl, hands squeezing his clothes and dragging him closer needily. he groans softly in response, big hands squeezing your breasts firmly, flicking your nipples with his thumbs. "innocent little cheerleader," he breathes against your lips, eyes hazy. "sweet girl meant to be dancing on the field for your meathead boyfriend, and you're back here letting me have my way with you."

you gasp, eyes fluttering at the overwhelming pleasure he's giving you. he knows just how to touch you, the parts of your body that are most sensitive and the best ways to draw sweet little mewls out of you that make his cock throb. "stop... s-stop talking like that..." you beg dumbly onto his swollen lips. one of his hands move down your body to slip beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers grazing your slick pussy between your thighs.

"God," he mutters, leaning back to see the look on your face. "you're so wet. you've been wet since you saw me sitting alone on the bleachers, hm? saw you trip up your cute little routine when i made eye contact with you." you mewl, toes curling in your sneakers. he slides a long, thick finger inside of you, pumping in and out and curling his finger just right.

"and you think he'd be okay with this?" he goes on, staring intently into your hazy eyes. "his perfect little princess letting the school freak finger her under the bleachers while he throws a ball around." you pant, his fingers dipping into your dripping pussy and your walls around his thick digits. He pumps them steadily, watching your face contort with pleasure as he strokes your most sensitive spots, his thumb circles your throbbing clit and rubbing firm pressure on the swollen bud.

your moans get louder and more high pitched, and he has to shove his free hand out of your bra onto your mouth to shut you up. "shh, baby," he whispers. "you're gonna get us caught." he warns, even though you can't help it. you can barely stand upright, back arched off the fence as your legs tremble, his finger twisting inside you to get every angle. he presses the flat of his palm against you so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit so you let out a muffled cry. "sloppy little thing, aren't you. you'd let me do anything to you."

you nod a little too eagerly, whimpering beneath his hand and moaning loud anytime his finger curls just right, louder when he slides in a second finger. you're falling apart and you can't stay quiet no matter how hard you try, your big eyes all glossy with tears, as he watches every second of it with that same fascinated look in his eyes. "this pussy's so pretty," he coos. "too pretty for a dumb jock who doesn't even know what he's got. i'd never stop touching you and kissing you and fucking you if you were my girl."

you moan loudly at his words just as he scissors and pumps his fingers quicker inside you while he relishes in the sounds you make. he loves how you're supposed to be prim and sweet, the little cheerleader everyone loves, and you're back here with him. the guy with no friends, no spot on the football team, no frats. just bruised knuckles from too many fights and messy hair and a huge cock.

He pulls his hand away only long enough to push his fingers into your mouth, and you suck on them immediately with a moan. You blink up at him with those big dumb eyes, lips stretched around his fingers, cheeks flushed and messy.

"shit...my perfect cheer slut," he murmurs, his thumb rubs firm circles around your clit, the bundle of nerves throbbing and swollen from his touch while his fingers plunge in and out of your sopping cunt. you nod, eyes wide and eager. "mm... f-fuck...yours," you whine, pushing your hips up into his hand to grind against his palm. "you gonna cum for me back here? while you're supposed to be out there screaming for the team?"

"yes please, 'm cumming... just want you, please," you gasp, hands clawing at him as though it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. your pussy tightens around his fingers, clenching down hard as he keeps pumping them deep inside you, thumb working your clit with constant pressure. your whole body shudders as a hot, dizzying orgasm crashes over you like a wave.

you moan, hips jerking as your walls flutter and pulse around his fingers, soaking them. your eyes roll back, lips parted around the digits still stuffed in your mouth, drool slipping past the corners as you ride it out. your brain feels all fuzzy and blank.

"that's it," he coos, leaning down to kiss the side of your face while his fingers slow, easing you through it. "just like that, baby. pretty thing, making a mess all over my hand." he pulls his fingers from between your legs with a filthy wet sound and lifts them up to his mouth to clean them off with his tongue quickly, before reaching down to hold you steady once more.

both hands land back on your waist, letting you slump against him while you catch your breath. you can feel his hard cock pressed against you through his jeans, and he plans to pleasure himself just as he pleasured you. your hips roll forward into his clothed cock shamelessly, skirt bunched up around the waist. your panties, once pushed to the side while he fingered you, get tugged down your ankles, then he helps you step out of them so he can pick them up and stuff them into his pocket for later. "such a little liar."

"a-about what? i d-don't lie to you..."

"about wanting him. y'don't look at him like this. y'don't fuck him like that."

then, he grabs and lifts you just enough so your soaked little pussy rubs right against him, dragging across denim dark with slick. he holds you like you weigh nothing, keeping you perched on him while the game continues behind you. you can hear the crash of pads and whistles and the school band roaring as someone scores a touchdown, maybe your boyfriend.

probably your boyfriend.

the crowd screams his name, cheer girls chant it, flipping their glittery pom-poms in the air to sell school spirit while you're tucked in the shadows under the bleachers, grinding like a needy puppy on the weirdest guy on campus. he huffs at you and bounces his knee slightly to help you get yourself off. "Please… don't stop, don't stop!" you cry out, lashes fluttering.

you're whining as loud as he'll let you, kissing him desperately and mewling as the rough fabric of his jeans bumps against your clit. his whole body shudders. He looks like he could cum just from hearing your sounds, and so he lifts your hips so you're grinding less on his thigh and more on his cock. "look at you," he whispers, glaring straight into your eyes. "filthy." your hips don't stop moving despite his cruel words, and you find yourself grinding your soaked little core across his jeans harder.

his hips grind more urgently into yours, his bulge throbbing each time you grind or bounce on it. your slick folds slide and rub against the firm ridges of his clothed erection while he humps into you. his fingers grip your hips tighter as he increases the force of his own thrusts, letting out a pleased grunt. "oh fuck... just like that pretty girl. keep rutting. shit, im gonna cum soon,"

you wrap one leg around his waist to open yourself up further, the new angle allowing your soaked pussy to press more firmly against his clothed cock, the damp patch on his bulge growing with each thrust. you can't tell if its his juices or yours. both of you let out a joint moan, loud and unabashed. seems like he forgot to cover your mouth.

his movements turn more erratic and desperate as he feels his orgasm coming, and with a final rough grind of his hips, he buries his face in the smooth expanse of you throat and bites down hard, muffling his loud groan, while you let out a choked scream, pussy clenching down on nothing as you hit your peak too.

thick, hot cum erupted from his cock, soaking through his jeans and creating a fat stain on his front, while your juices drip down your thighs. he leaves soft kisses on the angry red bite mark he left on you, speaking into your skin quietly.

you twitch with the oversensitivity that comes with two orgasms, face slick with sweat. you're a whiny mess, panties gone, skirt wrinkled and hiked up around your waist, makeup running obscenely. you keep clawing at his arms, terrified he'll leave you like this and make you go back out there. "Shh," he whispers, "you're bein' loud again. what if someone hears you moaning my name like that? huh?"

he grabs your face in his hand and squishes it so your face forms that embarrassing pout, but you're too gone to feel any shame. you nuzzle into his touchy needily, eyes glossy and adoring as he speaks again. "so," he says, "you gonna be a good girl and go finish your little routine now?"

you blink up at him, chest still heaving, curls sticking to your flushed cheeks. you're about to scream no and that you wanna stay with him, when he speaks before you. "or," he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your jaw, thumb brushing your lips, "you wanna come fuck me in the backseat of my car?"

you don't even pause. there's not a single moment of hesitation. even as you hear screaming and cheering to signal that the game is likely coming to a close and now people will definitely be looking for you. all you care about is him. he can tell. he feeds off your little crush on him. big hands wrap loosely around your throat as he admires your ruined face, a thumb moving across your lips to smudge your lipgloss even more. "the car," you whisper, instantly, "please, the car."

he grins smugly. "hm. since you asked so nicely."

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