Greetings, everyone! This is Nightowl, or n0tdead_yet. This is my official introduction and extra information.
I'm Nightowl, also known as Night or Owl.I am a streamer and writer. I stream Valorant, Fields of Mistria, Stardew Valley, Persona series and previews of my stories here.
I write for Valorant (Iso), Soul Eater (DTK and Soul Evans), TDLOSK (Saiki K.), and Persona (Makoto Yuki and Akira Kurusu). TAKE NOTE that these are simply my specialties. I WRITE FOR ANY FANDOM.
I am able to write both SFW & NSFW. I only write NSFW once I deem the character eligible for NSFW.
Use my tag, #worksbynightowl , if you have any suggestions, thoughts or anything. I am open to constructive criticism, and I am looking for more ways to improve.
DNI if...
1. If you will request anything related to RWORDING, INC3ST, SH, and anything else in the same category as listed. I do not condone the actions listed above. Get some help, call a professional hotline.
2. If you will request NSFW x readers with underage characters WITHOUT specifying if aged up or not.
I DO NOT condone my work being translated and published elsewhere without my discretion. Please send me a message.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 a/n ꒱ . . . Lohen cuts himself to guilt-trip the reader into staying with him… thats kinda it. Also I’ve been suffering from extreme writers/art block so this is the first thing I’ve written in a minute.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 tw ꒱ . . . yandere, fem!reader, self harm, I haven’t played any recent quests so I know a little bit about his personality, guilt tripping
“Lohen… I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
The second those words left your mouth you felt a heavy weight lift off of your shoulders. You’ve been dreading telling Lohen that for the longest time, for all the right reasons though.
The vice captain stares at you, his dark eyes empty, void of any and all emotion, “What are you saying?” He chuckled bitterly, “Do you not love me anymore?”
You start to panic. He isn’t taking this very well so far, “No! I do! It’s just that… I don’t think this’ll work out.“
“There’s no changing your mind, isn’t there?”
Without another word, Lohen rolled up his sleeve and lifts his wrist for you to see it. Your eyes go as wide as saucers at the sight, his wrist is riddled with deep, bleeding, fresh wounds.
“You can’t leave me, Y/n, you won’t. You wouldn’t want to be the reason I hurt myself more, right?” His still smiling that damned manic smile. It’s like he enjoys it — he relishes in being in pain and seeing the it on your face.
He laughs at your speechless expression, “Or would you rather I do something even worse?”
You shook your head, frantically waving your hands.
“No, no! Stop it!” You cried.
His smile grows wider, reveling in how frightened you looked. It was adorable. He loved it.
“Yeah… yeah you want me to kill myself don’t you, Y/n?” He dragged his gloved finger across each of his cuts, “You want me to slit the major arteries in my wrist. Bleed out and die, right??”
Lohen grabbed the blade at his hip and pressed it against his throat, a small bead of scarlet forming at the tip of the blade. “Or maybe I should slit my throat?”
He pressed the knife deeper, blooding rolling down his neck, “End my suffering even faster—“
You grab his wrist and he drops the knife, staring at you with eyes widened like you were doing something wrong. Well, in his eyes you were.
His gaze quickly softened as if he was staring at a darling lover. Tears are running down your eyes like waterfalls as you force yourself to grip his wrist tighter.
“Stop hurting yourself… please…” you sob, your head facing the ground. You couldn’t bear to stare at his mutilated wrist nor his face any longer.
He ignored your pleas and only muttered:
“I can’t live without you…” he leaned in close to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper.
🐊 featuring: {separate}: 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🐊 tw: yandere themes ⭐︎ non/dubcon ⭐︎ kidnapping ⭐︎ delusions ⭐︎ they’re mean es shii ⭐︎ two faced asl ⭐︎ sadism ⭐︎ masochism ⭐︎ bondage ⭐︎ footjob ⭐︎ spanking ⭐︎ degradation ⭐︎ babytrapping ⭐︎ choking ⭐︎ manhandling ⭐︎ face sitting (m! receiving) ⭐︎ 69 ⭐︎ rimming ⭐︎ feminization ⭐︎ lingerie ⭐︎ collar ⭐︎ humiliation ⭐︎ hair pulling ⭐︎ stockholm syndrome ⭐︎
🐊 an: ah yes, time to feed the twink lovers, wish you luck ♡
🐊 HEIZOU — Knick-knack!
The collar snaps before your eyes finish rolling.
Leather biting sharp into your throat – not tight enough to choke, just cruelly reminding you he already knew you'd try it.
It forces a sharp gasp out of you—one you don't get to finish, because Heizou's already using that strip of leather to drag you right back between his legs.
Knuckles skimming your jaw as he guides your head down, unbothered, like he'd mapped out every move you were going to make before you made them.
One moment you’re glaring.
Next, your mouth is full of him.
His cock slides hot and heavy over your tongue, and the startled glkh!— that bursts out of you only makes his grin sharpen.
"There she is," he says, voice bright and almost clinical. "I gave you three opportunities to stop before it got to this point. You picked this."
You barely manage a sputter before he adjusts the collar again—SNAP!—tightening it to borderline cut off airflow.
His expression doesn't go cold so much as settle — as if he's arrived somewhere he expected to be. You glare up at him on instinct.
Heizou’s eyes lit up like you’d handed him a present.
"Oh, still brave," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip with idle curiosity, like he's noting it down somewhere. "Predictable, but brave. Don't use your teeth, sweetheart. I already know you're thinking about it."
You don’t get to protest.
Before he slams his hips upward, seating himself deeper in your throat so fast your nose hits his skin. His cock nudges a place you're not ready for, your throat seizing around him as your vision spots.
glk!- glkh- glk
Breath stuttering, lashes fluttering as he watches your throat struggle around him.
"T-there it is," he sighs, pleased in that infuriating, already-knew-it way he has. "Much more honest than whatever smart little comment you… were... hah… about to make. I clocked the exact wording, by the way. Would've been a good one."
You dig your nails into his thighs hard, a silent ‘go fuck yourself.’
The sound you make next — a humiliating, involuntary little choke — made you cringe… and him lose composure entirely.
Making Heizou moaned loudly, head tipping back, a low breathless "Ah–!" slipping out before he could catch it, olive eyes fluttering like your defiance knocked something loose in his chest he hadn't accounted for.
First thing he hadn't accounted for.
He stares back down at you, something flickering in his expression — recalculating. Then that grin returns, slower this time. More interested.
"Hm." His thumb drags your lip down, watching the spit string between skin. "You keep doing things I don't predict. Do you know how rare that is?"
Loosening the collar just enough for you to gasp—wrong move. Your pride flares, and you try to snap back, but all that comes out is a vibration against his cock, a choked mmph! that makes his hips jerk.
"Look at you," he says, catching a tear you didn't realize had fallen, holding it on his thumb like it's a clue. "Still fighting. Still dripping. And you think I can't tell which one you're more embarrassed about."
Then he's guiding your head back down—slow, but not merciful—letting his cock drag over every tender inch of your tongue while he keeps watching.
slrp!—mmph!—glk!
He follows the tremor in your thighs like a bloodhound.
Watches them press together, you pretending it's not happening. He clocked the exact moment your hips gave the smallest, traitorous twitch toward him.
"There it is.." quietly, to himself more than you, "You know~," he continues, tilting his head, "I wasn't planning to use more than one hand today. But you're so full of-” Then something warm slides between your knees. “-surprises.”
His foot.
The arch nudges your thighs apart, slow and so casual — like it's the obvious next logical step — exposing your soaked underwear to the cool air.
“Hm?” he coos, voice all faux-gentle mockery. "You're already this wet, and we're barely into the hypothesis."
His thumb traces idle circles on the leather strap. "Your body keeps contradicting itself. That's going to be a problem for you."
You try to shake your head — trembling, furious denial — but the collar stops the motion dead. His foot presses in, slow and deliberate, rubbing just enough friction against your panties to make your breath stutter out through your nose.
"You look furious," Heizou observes, voice soft with something worse than mockery — genuine fascination. "You should see your own face right now. You're trying so hard."
Foot rubbing in that same terrifying precision he puts into everything — deliberate circles right against your soaked panties. The pressure is perfect — teasing your swollen clit through the thin fabric while his cock stays buried deep in your throat.
"Every single time I discipline you," shaft still buried deep in your throat, foot working you toward something you're desperately trying not to give him, "your body does this. I've noted it. I have a very thorough record."
You try to grumble around him, but it only comes out as a wet, vibrating mmph that makes his length twitch on your tongue.
Heizou chuckles, low and delighted.
“Oh? You like that?” His foot moves faster, rubbing firm strokes up and down your dripping slit, toes curling to press right against your clit. “Look at you… trying so badly to glare at me while your pussy’s grinding against my foot like a desperate little whore.”
The combination is too much.
Your moan vibrates wildly around his length as your orgasm crashes through you — humiliating, what's worse is that he doesn't even look surprised.
"Mhm." He watches you shake apart with the quiet satisfaction of someone whose theory was confirmed exactly on schedule. "Right on time."
Not giving you a second to recover, his hips chase his own high with the same focused efficiency he does everything else, collar keeping you exactly where the evidence requires you to be.
With a low, unraveling moan — the least composed sound he's made all night — Heizou buries himself deep and cums.
He holds you through every pulse, breathing hard, that careful control finally fraying at the edges.
When he finally pulls back, thumb smearing across your swollen lip, he looks down at you with something that isn't quite the grin from earlier.
More like the face he makes when he's solved something that actually took effort.
"Good girl." Soft. Sincere, almost. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead — unhurried, like punctuation. "You know what the most interesting part of all of this is?"
Oh god
He tilts your chin up. "You already know exactly why you keep ending up here. You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet."
Grinning, eyeing your trembling form. "I'll wait. I'm patient. I already know the answer."
He gives the collar one last gentle tug.
"Knick-knack.~"
🐊 KAZUHA — W.T.F.
“K-KAZUHA WHAT T-THE FUCKKK!—”
Your voice cracks–as he slams into you, deep-deep-deep, the force of it yanking your silk-bound wrists taut against the beam above. The ropes creak as your spine arches.
And Kazuha just watches, amber eyes half-lidded, like he’s admiring the way your body jolts with every thrust.
Fingers cave into your hips, digging past the surface, marking you obsessively. He drives home with a smoothness that shouldn't be this brutal, each roll of his body a new lesson in how much you can endure.
One thrust.
Two.
Counting the hitches in your chest, timing his pace to the exact second your breath fails you.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers, voice soft as a lullaby. His hips snap forward—hard—and your gasp catches high in your chest, stuck.
“Is it the bindings?...” His thumb strokes your inner thigh, gently. “Or losing your Vision?”
He says it with a terrifying ease. He’d turned that stolen glass over in his palm earlier, eyes wide and worshiping, before tying you open and filling you.
Your body bounces with every stroke, helpless. “Hahh—!” spills out when he drags you down harder, his grip tightening, fingertips pressing deep enough to leave marks.
The pace picks up—smooth, controlled, relentless—like he’s chasing the sound of your breath shattering.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
The wet smack of skin on skin echoes across the water, obscene.
“Easy…” his breath is a warm ghost against your skin, but his weight is a solid, punishing reality stretching you open. “You keep tightening around me like this—”
A particularly vicious thrust punches the air straight out of your lungs, leaving you hollow. “—I might think you enjoy it.”
“I DON’T—” The words snap out, hot and immediate, but they lose their edge halfway.
Something is failing in the back of your skull. Your thoughts are sluggish, stalling, sinking into a gray fog.
Behind him, the box pulses with a weak, dying rhythm—your Pyro Vision guttering out, its fire turning to ash. You wrench your eyes away because the sight of your own fading ambition is a physical ache.
Kazuha grinds into you, a slow, cruel pressure right where your nerves are rawest, before driving up with a sudden, jarring force.
“Nghh—FUCK—!” It spills out, unbidden. Kazuha just exhales a quiet laugh against your cheek.
You hate the scent of him—cedar and salt air.
Hate the softness of his hair, untouched by the violence of his hips.
Most of all, you hate the memory of the same hand currently bruising your hip, tucking a blanket around your shoulders this morning.
You were something precious then.
Now, you’re just a prize.
The hate is there, but it’s slipping through your fingers, dissolving into the void where your Vision used to be.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a low vibration in your ear as he thrusts deeper. Schlk…schlk…schlk filling you sends a forced heat racing up your spine. “-my songbird is one of a kind~.”
“KAZUHA I SWEAR TO ARCHONS-” But your voice cracks. The fury is a cavernous gap, feeling emptier by the second.
Another brutal snap of his hips makes your back arch, the beam above you groaning under the strain.
“I thought you’d want it like this,” puzzled, a quiet, private observation. He pouts—a look of pure, confused innocence—while his thumb traces a slow, heavy line up your clit. “You said I was always too soft.”
His shaft pulsed a deliberate, agonizing hesitation just to watch you squirm.
“So I figured…” Another thrust, deeper, meaner. “…you’d like it rough.”
You try to muster up the strength to glare holes into him, but you could only whimper in despair at the effects of not having your vision increase.
Kazuha tilts his head slightly, watching the way your wrists strain against the ropes like you’re testing whether the knots might suddenly grow merciful.
“I’m sorry,” voice dropping, quieter. Almost apologetic, “it has to be like this.”
The sorrow in his eyes is real. Genuine.
It changes absolutely nothing about the pace of his hips.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving as he adjusts his grip — one hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your leg higher, spreading you wider.
You can feel it…the hollowness spreads slowly through your limbs like something being gently, methodically unplugged.
"Kaz..." Your voice comes out smaller than you want it to. "Kazuha, you said…hah y-you always said–"
"I know what I said." He says it softly, watching your face with that unbearable attentiveness, like he's memorizing something. "I meant it. Every word."
His hips roll forward, slow and thorough, and the sound that escapes you isn't angry at all. "I still mean it."
"Tch then why–"
"Because–" and here his composure cracks, "you were gunna to leave n' not come back- heh." fingers fondling your nipple, making you arch just perfectly into him as he pumps his thickened inches through every peak.
"And- I found," he continues, breathless now, white hair falling across his face as he drives deeper, "that I believe in your freedom–" thrust "completely–" thrust "except for that."
The boat sways, adding more force to his thrusts.
He chuckles darkly to himself, a tone you've never heard before. He swirls n' swirls his globular tip, the perfect rounded shape to press into your nerves.
And somewhere in the growing heaviness behind your eyes, you're realizing horribly, humiliatingly... that your hips have started moving back to meet him.
Kazuha notices it, his eyes going soft, reaching up to cup your cheek with a gentleness that has absolutely no friggin business being here right now.
"See?" like he's been waiting this whole time to say it. "Isn't this better than leaving?"
You don't answer, you can't tell anymore if the withdrawal is talking or something worse.
He angled slightly – deeper, more deliberate – and your whole body lurches forward with it, the ropes catching you, swinging you right back onto him.
Sloppy sounds fill up the whole cabin until there's no room for anything else. Including your thoughts.
They keep arriving slower now, holding more weight, and you're not sure if you can keep holding onto hate anymore.
Or even remember why you were so upset in the first place.
He feels it immediately – the shift in you. Kazuha has always been terrifyingly good at reading things.
Wind.
Weather...The exact moment you're about to stop denying him.
"Ah-" You gasp- he grinds into your poor, bruised g-spot. "I-i… m’still f-fuckin’ angryy–"
"Of course," kissing up your neck, he inhaled deeply, smiling against you, "You're allowed to be."
"That's not-" A whine punches out of you when he rolls his hips just so. "That's not what I– ngh– t-that's not the point!—"
"Then what is my love?"
And you open your mouth to tell him. You have the answer…you know you do, it was right there a moment ago, something about how wrong this is, something about him taking your vision, something about how this isn't what you wanted.
His shaft drags slowww and thoroughly across that spot inside you, and every single word dissolves.
"Hm~?" Kazuha waits expectantly as the thoughts leave your face, morphing into something that isn't guilt anymore.
"It's alright." He presses a kiss to your temple. "You don't have to say it."
…He's already decided, somewhere in that poetic, completely unwell little heart of his, that this is love. That this is the right thing, that you'll understand eventually.
"Fuhck- ah! Kazu—" hips rolling back to meet him before you even register doing it—He shivers a single tremor moving through that carefully composed body, his breath catching audibly.
His rhythm stutters for just a fraction of a second. And then it happens — the thing he's been holding back since he tied you in the boats for days now.
"Y-you feel—" He stops, then tries again. "You feel so—" he really can't finish it.
Those eyes have gone somewhere glassy and distant — still looking at you, but seeing something past the surface of you, something he's been navigating toward for a very long time-
Both arms wrapping around you, silk ropes and all, folding you into him like something he's been holding in his hands for years and is only now allowing himself to keep.
His cock pulses deep. His breath comes apart completely.
"Don't leave," he moans into your hair, and it’s not a request or a command either. He’s already made up his mind and refuses to be argued with. “Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't—"
Your mouth falls slack, and you bring what little energy you have to bite into your fist as you scream, cumming all over his shaft.
Your walls clenching around him, as a sound slipped out, one you're sure you’ll be embarrassed about later.
Kazuha grunts, a hand jumping to his mouth, trying not to be loud.
Juices connecting you two, losing the careful rhythm entirely, and then he's shuddering against you, spilling deep, face buried in your neck, lips moving against your skin in something that might be your name or might be an unhinged poem or both.
Your vision flickers once behind him…going out.
…
The boat rocks gently in the silence that follows, his arms wrapped around you, holding you softly.
After a long moment, you hear him sigh.
"Im sorry..." A pause. "I just thought this was kinder."
🐊 KINICH — Got his lick back
SMACK!
"AH—!"
The sharp crack of his palm against your ass echoes through the room like a hunter’s whip.
Your cry breaks out raw and humiliating, but Kinich doesn’t give you a second to breathe. His hand stays glued to the stinging flesh, squeezing hard enough to feel the heat bloom under his fingers while his other hand slides between your slick thighs.
“Spread.” Flat. Commanding. No room for argument.
You don’t.
So he forces you anyway — two fingers pushing past your dripping folds, stretching you open with that terrifying precision, curling right against the soft, spongy spot that makes your vision spark white.
The second your hips jerk forward to escape, his fist locks into your hair and yanks you right back onto his lap like a leash.
“Already this wet?” A low, almost thoughtful hum leaves him as he pulls his fingers free.
A thick, glossy string of your slick stretches between your hole and his fingertip, catching the low light.
“Running again… but your pussy keeps begging me to stay.”
You try to snap something back — anything — but he’s already lining up. The flared, swollen head of his cock nudges against your entrance once, twice, then pushes in with one merciless slide that steals every word from your throat.
“F-fuck- Kinich-!”
He bottoms out in one smooth glide, stretching you wide around his thick length until you feel him pressing right against the entrance of your womb.
Buried deep, letting your walls flutter and clench desperately around him while his breath ghosts hot against the back of your neck.
“You keep running,” he says quietly, almost thoughtfully, as he pulls back just enough to slam in again. The wet slap of skin on skin is filthy.
“Every time I tell you to stay. Every time you look at me like you’re already gone.”
SMACK!
Your body jerks hard at the next spank, a broken cry ripping from your throat.
Before you can crawl away, his arm hooks around your waist and hauls you right back down onto his cock, pinning you flat to the slick floor. The woven texture bites into your tits and stomach as he forces you to take every brutal inch.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls low, the first real crack in that calm tone.
His hips snap forward harder, cockhead smacking mercilessly into your cunt with every precise thrust. “You’re not leaving Natlan. Not again.”
Smooth, deep rolls of his hips that drag his veiny length along every sensitive ridge inside you. Your voice climbs higher, cracking on whimpers you can’t swallow down.
Drool slips from the corner of your mouth onto the floor while your thighs shake violently.
“Kinich-! puhleaseeee- it’s too much—”
“It’s not.” Another punishing thrust. “You can take it. You will.”
His hand snakes underneath you, fingers finding your swollen clit.
He pinches and rolls merciless little circles that have your walls clamping down around his cock like a vice. Your whole body seizes, pussy gushing slick down his length as he keeps fucking you through it.
“Don’t know why- Ngh-,” he rasps against your neck, voice fraying at the edges now, breath coming shorter. “Y’kept leaving me. Why ya- won’t stay put. ”
"Th-that's not— ah— that's not your problem!-"
"You made it my problem." A thrust that punches the air clean out of you. “So I found a solution. Gonna fill this tight little cunt until you’re swollen with my kid. Then you won’t have a choice.”
The words hit you like lightning. Your mind blanks for a second– “Wai-what—”
His cock swirls deep.
Pushing deeeep, his fingers pick up pace on your clit, dragging you toward something you've been denying this whole time, your walls fluttering desperately, your voice climbing so high it cracks—“No!- t-that’s genuinely insane!”
"It isn’t." He held a small, satisfied smile.
"That’s not a solution, that’s literally—fuckkkk!"
But your body betrays you completely, cutting you off. Your walls flutter wildly around him, milking his cock as a devastating orgasm rips through you.
You came hard, screaming into the floor, tears streaming, thighs clamping shut around his hand while your pussy spasms and gushes.
Kinich groans low, the sound raw and animalistic, the first time that perfect hunter composure truly fractures.
His hips stutter once, twice, then he buries himself to the hilt with a sharp snap, pressing so deep you swear you feel him in your throat.
“HNGH!—”
Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your womb — pulse after heavy pulse, so much and so warm it spills out around his pulsing cock almost instantly, smearing sticky and obscene between your bodies.
Grinding deep through every wave, slow and deliberate, like he’s determined to push every drop as far inside you as physically possible.
His arm stays locked tight around your middle, tattooed bicep flexing against your stomach, holding you exactly where he wants you.
“…Your body thinks it’s a perfect solution,” he breathes against your sweat-damp neck, voice hoarse but still terrifyingly calm. “Stop fighting it.”
You’re still shaking, still fluttering around his spent cock, when the reality crashes back in.
Tears prick hot at the corners of your eyes as you try to twist away from him, voice cracking with raw upset.
“No,” you choke out, voice hoarse and furious even while your pussy keeps weakly clenching around him like it’s trying to keep every drop he just gave you.
“I’m not getting pregnant. I’m not letting you trap me like this— you can’t just- you can’t-”
He doesn’t pull out.
If anything, Kinich sinks a little deeper, grinding the head of his cock against your overfilled cervix like he’s sealing it. His lips brush the shell of your ear, calm as ever, but the grip on your waist tightens possessively.
“You already are,” he stares, almost fondly. “Or you will be. Soon.”
You pushed him off hard, “Like hell–”
.
.
🐊
A month later, the humid air inside the Scions of Canopys midwife’s hut feels too thick to breathe.
You’re sitting on the low mat, knees drawn tight together like that might somehow undo everything, while the older woman hums softly and presses careful fingers along your lower belly.
Nausea still clings to the back of your throat. Your breasts ache. Certain smells make you want to retch.
You already know what she’s going to say.
Your captor behind you like a silent sentinel — arms loosely crossed, green-gold eyes half-lidded but missing nothing.
The midwife finally sits back on her heels, expression unreadable for a long beat.
“Congratulations! You're expecting,” she says, no question in her voice, your stomach dropping.
“It seems you're a month along, oh! The baby is healthy…you would be due…”
As the midwife drones on and on, pointing at the chart, you craned your head to glare at Kinich meeting his expectant gaze.
His expression, for once, was readable, and it only conveyed one thing:
‘You can deny it all you want, you’re stuck.’
🐊 LOHEN — Denial is a river
“LOHEN LET ME DOWN—YOU DONE LOST YO MIND.”
You thrashed wildly, hanging upside down from the thick rope coiled tight around your ankle.
The world swayed in sickening circles, blood rushing straight to your head while your own heartbeat hammered in your ears.
Dignity? Gone. Long gone.
Meanwhile, Lohen was losing his shit.
Full-body, stomach-clenching laughter poured out of him as he bent over, one hand braced on his knee, as if he might actually collapse from how hilarious you were.
Red eyes squinted with pure delight, tears pricking at the corners while he wheezed.
“HA- holy shit!-” He dragged in a gasping breath, still grinning like a maniac. “You really walked straight into that one. Fuck, you’re adorable.~”
He finally straightened up and stalked closer, head tilted as he studied your flushed, upside-down face.
That manic little smile curled slowly and hungrily across his lips, one that promised nothing good.
“You actually thought you could escape me?” he cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Cute. Real cute.”
You glared hard enough to burn holes through him.
Lohen only stepped even closer, until he was right in front of your swaying body.
Two fingers reached out and squished your cheeks together like you were some grumpy little creature he’d caught.
“Look at that face,~” he sang, eyes sparkling with pure unhinged joy.
You jerked your head and sank your teeth into his thumb — hard.
A low, genuine, filthy sound punched straight out of his chest. His eyes fluttered, lashes kissing his cheeks.
You pulled back, staring at him in pure disgust and disbelief.
He stared right back, looking almost surprised at himself for half a second… before that wild grin crawled back onto his face, twice as wide.
“Fuck I think I just came a bit…Do that again.”
This fucking freak
His hand finds your face again - cradles it, almost, which was somehow more unsettling than if he'd gripped it.
Thumb pressing into your cheek while your head kept spinning, and the rope creaked above you.
“You’re turning such a pretty shade.~” voice soft and sweet like poison. “Wow, are ya really that happy I’m touching you?”
“YOU PSYCHOTIC LITTLE—”
“Mhm,” Lohen cut you off smoothly, not even listening. His eyes dragged over you slowly and warmly, completely shameless. “Most people would’ve seen the rope, y’know,” he said, like you weren’t literally hanging upside down from his trap.
“Well, most people aren’t being fucking hunted-”
“Nope.” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, gentle and obsessive all at once.
“Just you… ‘cause iiiii loooove yooouuu.~” He drew the words out in that obnoxious, singsong way that made your skin crawl and your stomach flip at the same time.
You rolled your eyes so hard it made you dizzy.
Lohen hummed, tilting his head as he watched you sway.
That dangerous little smile never left his face while he tapped one finger against his chin like he was thinking.
“Now~” he purred, smirk widening with wicked promise.
“How should we fix that nasty little attitude of yours…?”
Fuck
.
.
🐊
“Cmon what are ya waitingggg forrr?”
You’re straddling him, completely humiliated, his thick cock buried to the hilt inside you while he lounges back like he doesn’t have a single care in the world.
Hands tucked lazily behind his head, mint-green hair splayed wild across the grass, that damn beauty mark crinkling as he grins up at you with pure psychotic delight.
You’re not moving.
Not one fucking inch, half out of overstimulation, half out of pure spite.
SMACK!
His palm cracks hard across your ass, the sharp sting making you jerk upward with a broken yelp.
The sudden movement drags your dripping walls along every veiny inch of him, Lohen moaning loud and shameless beneath you, biting his lips like he just tasted heaven.
“There ya gooo~” he coos, voice syrupy sweet with fake innocence. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I fuckin’ hate you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, low and wheezy, eyes sparkling as he tracks every furious twitch on your face. “You gonna move properly, or do I gotta smack that pretty ass red again?”
You barely move.
Slow. Grudging.
The most resentful little roll of your hips that’s ever existed.
Throwing his head back he bursts into loud, unhinged laughter. “HAHAAH— fuck, look at you! So madddd~ So fucking upset and still creaming all over my cock.”
“Are you deadass right now-? Of course I’m mad-!”
“Faster.”
“What—?”
“Faster,” he repeats helpfully, tilting his head with that manic little grin. “You’re going reeeaaally slow, baby. My dick’s getting bored.”
You’re going to kill him.
Fuck it.
You’re going to cum and then kill him.
But your cunt says otherwise, pussy fluttering and sucking greedily around his thick length, no matter how much you glare at him.
Lohen’s eyes darken with hungry delight. He suddenly sits up, arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands, yanking you down flush against his chest.
Shaft grinding deep, bullying right against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision spark white.
“F—fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, that primal edge slipping into his voice. “One more, yeah? Just one more f'me, pretty thing.”
“Lohen, you’ve said that,” You batted your eyes, fighting the pleasure, “-for hours, lemme go!”
“Mmm, doesn’t sound like an answer,” he purrs, rolling his hips up in a filthy, precise way that makes your toes curl. “Doesn’t sound like you’re saying no to me.”
He doesn’t even wait for your reply.
His forearms hook under your thighs, spreading you wide open like a ragdoll as he starts rutting up into you harder.
Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air with every thrust — squelch-squelch-squelch — his cockhead kissing your cervix over and over like he’s trying to knock right through it.
“Hm? Hah- mmph!, seems like someone agrees with me.~” he laughs breathlessly against your ear, nipping at the shell with sharp teeth. “Your pussy’s the one begging for more. Greedy little thing keeps gulping me down like she never wants me to leave.~”
You try to squirm, try to plant your feet and lift off him even a little, but Lohen just tightens his grip and fucks up into you even meaner, bouncing you on his cock like you weigh nothing.
“Hahhh?? Running again~?” he tuts, voice mockingly sweet. “Nahhh, we still got s’much more rounds to go, baby. Five? Or is it six? I lost count already.”
Your mind was blanking out; you've been doing this for so long, you couldn’t even form coherent sentences. “Fuh- no- mgh- I’m d-done!”
"Your pussy's not done~."
“My- p-puhssy–! Don’t getta vote!” You shatter instantly — eyes rolling back, a broken scream ripping out of you as your sixth orgasm crashes through your exhausted body.
Lohen screams loudly while your walls milk him tight, but he doesn’t stop.
“Ohh-Fuck fuck fuck! Here’s ah!- another one, baby!-” Cumming hard with you, filling you up - he keeps thrusting through your high, chasing every last flutter like a man possessed.
Thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your already overstuffed cunt. Grinding deeper, chasing every last flutter like a man completely possessed.
“Mmm—hah, there it is,~” he moans happily, beauty mark crinkling as he grins against your sweat-slick neck. Mint-green hair sticks to his forehead, messy and wild. “Good girl. That wasn’t for you, though~ That was all for this pretty pussy of mine.”
You’re sobbing now, chest heaving, body twitching uncontrollably in his lap. But Lohen just keeps bouncing you on his still-hard cock, slow and filthy, like he could do this forever.
“And she’s telling me…” he drawls, voice sing-song dropping into something darker, more dangerous, lips brushing your ear, “that you can handle three more.♡”
You flop forward against his chest, boneless and whimpering, barely able to hold yourself up. “A-asshole… h-hate you…”
Lohen’s manic laughter rings in your ear as he flips you onto your back in one smooth motion, never once letting his cock slip out of your spasming heat.
“Keep fighting it, baby. Keep telling me how much you hate me.” He leans down, eyes glowing with lovesick affection as he starts pounding you into the grass. “Makes my dick so fucking hard when you lie like that.”
You cry out, nails raking down his back as he folds you nearly in half, knees pressed to your chest.
Every thrust is loud, messy, obscene — the constant squelch of his cum being fucked deeper into you, the slap of skin, your broken sobs mixing with his breathless laughter.
“Look at her,” he coos, glancing down between your bodies where his cock disappears into your puffy, cream-filled pussy. “Still sucking me in so hungrily. Seems like she doesn’t wanna let go, does she?”
“Stop- I can’t-!!”
“You can,” he laughs softly, leaning down to bite your bottom lip. “And you will. ‘Cause every time you say you’re done… this cute cunt just begs for more.”
Picking up speed, pounding you into the grass with relentless, mind-melting strokes. Staring straight into your tear-filled eyes, beauty mark crinkling with that same unhinged grin.
“Three more, f’me baby. Then maybe- maybe I’ll let ya rest.~” His hands push your legs up to your head, angling deeper, making your eyes roll.
“Or maybe I’ll just keep going until you forget how to say the word ‘no’ at all.~”
🐊 LYNEY — Hole dirtier than laundry!
You're so sure you're going to fucking suffocate at this rate.
Lyney’s perched on your face like he weighs nothing, knees planted on either side of your head in the middle of his messy bed, sheets already twisted and half-pulled off the mattress.
That skimpy little lingerie set he’d been hiding under his coat all evening still clinging to his slender frame—purple lace stretched taut over his flushed cock, the thin strap of the thong shoved to the side so his pretty, leaking hole could sit right against your mouth.
The fabric’s soaked through already and so is he.
He’d wanted this for weeks.
The filthy thought had lived rent-free in that pretty head of his ever since the first time you turned your face away from his goodnight kiss.
Then again, when you shoved his hand off your waist.
Then again, when you told him to “fuck off” like it was nothing.
Every denial made it worse.
He got nervous—actually nervous—thinking you’d hate it.
That you’d push him off and call him disgusting for wanting something so selfish, so greedy.
But tonight you’d denied him one too many times, pushed him away with that same cold little glare, and this was the perfect excuse.
Discipline
Clean. Simple.
He could finally do it and blame you for making him snap.
Except he's the one losing his breath — soft, shaky exhales spilling from those painted lips every time your tongue brushes against his rim. That carefully constructed composure dissolves, piece by piece, every time you move beneath him.
“Mmmh—!” He grinds down harder, your hands flailing against his thighs, nails digging into lace and soft skin. “Cat got your tongue, mon amour~?”
His voice is all theatrical breathiness, that signature charm cracking at the edges.
Shifting his weight just enough for you to gasp in a desperate breath, only to sink back down again — ass firmly planted on your face, rolling his hips in slow, filthy circles.
The wet heat of his hole drags over your lips, your tongue, smearing slick and lube everywhere.
The sound Lyney makes when you're forced to lick him is loud enough that the entire wing's probably filing a noise complaint right now.
Ash-blond hair with that tiny braid falls messily around his face, violet eyes fluttering shut, cat-like pupils blown wide.
“F-fuck… just like- that!—ngh!”
His slender fingers fist the sheets above your head, hips twitching every time your tongue pushes inside.
“D-didn’t think you’d be so… eager to clean me up after all those- ah! Nasty words you threw at me this week. You sure you didn’t want this?~”
He laughs breathless, a little unhinged—and the sound melts into another whimper when you suck on his rim trying to get air.
The lingerie thong keeps slipping back into place, and he has to keep tugging it aside with shaky fingers, the lace now completely drenched.
"Haah — look at you. Flailing around.~" Another slow grind, deliberate and mean, his cock twitching hard against the lace as it leaks onto his stomach. "But you're not pushing me off, are you? No… you're licking deeper. Mmph!~."
You thrash hard, punching at his thighs, trying to get this sick man off your face. He either mistakes it for enthusiasm or simply doesn't care — the effect is the same.
His thighs shake harder, athletic muscles flexing as he rides your tongue with more urgency. That guarded side is completely gone.
Replaced by something rawer.
The need to be wanted so badly that it overrides everything else.
"Keep going, mon amour," he pants, voice pitching higher, "because if you stop — hngh — I swear I'll sit here until morning. Until you forget every nasty word you said to me… and only remember this."
His fingers thread into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your face exactly where he wants it.
Not until he’s satisfied. Not until you’re his again—completely.
He can feel it building — hot, coiling, dangerous. And he refuses to finish like this, not when he hasn't taken everything.
With a shaky laugh that doesn't quite hide the edge beneath it, Lyney finally lifts off your face — justttt enough for you to drag in a ragged breath, spit and slick smeared across your lips.
Lungs burning as you try to speak—“Lyney, wait—” and before you can get a single word out-
His cock impales your mouth in one smooth thrust—thick, leaking, stretching your lips wide around the base of his shaft.
You choke instantly, eyes watering, the sudden fullness reducing every word you had to a wet gluck-gluck-gluck.
His thighs lock firmly beside your head. "Mmmph — there we go." He rocks into your throat with shallow, greedy thrusts, voice dropping as his face disappears between your thighs. "That's it. Let me feel how sorry you are."
Leaning down his tongue is immediate and merciless — lapping, sucking, flicking over your clit with a precision that feels almost unfair.
One hand grips your thigh hard enough to bruise. The other presses flat against your stomach, pinning you exactly where he wants you.
You push at his hips, a muffled protest vibrating around his length — he just rolls deeper, unhurried, his cock fucks your mouth in the same rhythm.
The room echoes with the wet sounds of him thrusting into your throat, mixed with the slurps of his mouth on your cunt.
"Don't- fight it, mon amour," he groans against your spreaded folds, the words vibrating straight into your core. "You don't get to push me away anymore. Not after all those mean words."
He sucks hard on your clit, hips stuttering as he holds back his own orgasm. "Not after telling me to leave like I'm nothing."
The lace thong is still tangled around his balls, rubbing against the bridge of your nose with every shallow thrust. His tongue curls, teasing your entrance before plunging inside—matching the way his cock bullies the back of your throat.
Your moans of reluctant protest are drowned out by his cock, completely overstimulated by how much of him you're feeling at once.
Every thrust pushes him deeper, every swirl of his tongue makes your legs shake. Whimpering into your cunt, the sound vibrating through you, but the words that slip out between licks are pure silk-wrapped venom.
"If I have to do this every night until you stop denying me—" A sharp suck on your clit. "—then I will."
His cock throbs heavily on your tongue. "I'll keep you right here. Until the only thing you know how to do is stay."
You try to pull off—hands slapping at his hips, a broken sob ripping from your throat around his shaft—but he just angles deeper.
The filthy gluck-gluck-gluck of him fucking your mouth fills your brain, your eyes streaming tears that mix with the spit dripping down your chin.
And he doesn’t stop, tongue lashes harder between your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth with a lewd pop! before flattening it again.
Mean. Possessive. Trying to pull your orgasm out by force.
Your thighs shake around his head, hips jerking up involuntarily as the pressure coils tighter-too much, too fast, too-
You cum with a shattered cry that vibrates straight down his cock.
Creamy slick gushes over his tongue, thighs clamping around his ears, and Lyney moans like he’s the one breaking. Holding himself right there on the edge—cock twitching wildly in your throat—until your walls start fluttering hard.
“F-fuck—ngh, that’s it—give it to me-”
His cock pulses hard on your tongue, swelling thicker, and then he’s cumming too.
Rope after rope shoots straight down your throat, thick and hot, until you’re choking on it, coughing up his seed around the length still buried between your lips.
He doesn’t pull out. Just keeps shallow-thrusting through it, forcing you to swallow every drop while he drinks you down like he’s dying of thirst.
The room spins. Your lungs burn. Tears won’t stop. While Lyney stays there a second longer, chest heaving, hips still twitching with the aftershocks.
Panting, he eased cock from your mouth with a slurp!
Strings of cum and spit connect your swollen lips to his tip. Lyney watches it break with half-lidded violet eyes, his cheek flushed red.
You’re still sobbing softly, chest heaving, when he finally flips around. He curls over you, pressing soft kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, your trembling lips, like he didn’t just fuck your face and sit on you for "punishment".
“Shhh… mon amour,” he whispers, voice sweet as sugar, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “See? Wasn’t so bad. You took me so well… my perfect little assistant.”
Lyney's fingers thread back into your hair, holding you there as he nuzzles against your neck.
“You’re not going anywhere tonight.” A soft, theatrical little laugh brushes your ear.
“Or tomorrow.”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, tasting himself on you.
“Or ever.”
🐊 XIAO — Bite first. Regret later
BAM!
"I'm leaving- ” The wall meets your back before you finish the sentence. “-Xiao. I mean it this–"
The impact rattled your teeth, your breath was punched clean out of your lungs, he was just across the room, teleporting in a haze of green and black, shoving you against the wall.
Another sharp gasp to follow when Xiao drove into you again, deeper, meaner, like he was trying to carve his place inside you permanently.
This is the problem.
This has always been the problem.
He doesn't talk to you, doesn't tell you he needs you, doesn't acknowledge what this even is, what you are to him — just pulls you close when it gets too heavy and expects that to be enough.
Weeks of silence.
Weeks of watching him look straight through you like you're something precious he refuses to name because naming it would make it real, and real things can be taken away.
You're exhausted.
Your legs stayed locked tight around his narrow waist, thighs trembling violently.
"I—" You push at his shoulders. He doesn't move. "Stop. I said I'm leaving—"
The only thing keeping you from sliding down the wall was his iron grip on your ass, fingers imprinting in so deep you knew they’d leave bruises shaped like his hands for days.
Xiao doesn’t respond, no words, or explanation — just eyes burning with determined focus
The tattoo on his arm bleeds green into the dark.
"Let me go." Flat. Furious. You dig your nails in hard. "I- ah! Mean it! I'm n-not doing this anymore, I can't keep– pretending-!"
He looks at you.
Amber eyes completely unguarded for once — staring at you like you've already got one foot out the door and he's watching it happen and he still, still cannot make himself say the words that would fix it. Jaw locked tight, breathing ragged.
Hitting that little spot inside you, your whole argument stutters. "That's not—"
You try to hold onto the thread of it. "That's not good enough, you can't just — this doesn't fix anything—"
He drives deeper. Your back hits the wall harder.
"Xiao!"
Nothing.
Just that devastating eye contact and the brutal, relentless pace of him, he's decided if he can't say it, he'll just make you feel it instead.
Your nails rake down his arms. "Oh-! This is- fuck! Insane. Shit! Your hurtin!- You can't keep doing this and expect me to stay!-" You twist, trying to get leverage.
His hand wraps around your throat, forehead dropping to yours, eyes closing, and he stays there breathing hard while his hips find a slower, deeper angle that makes your vision dissolve at the edges.
The weight of his karmic debt presses down on the room like a physical thing. Ozone and something older, darker, filling your lungs with every breath.
You're furious, shaking, and overwhelmed.
But believe it or not, he was terrified of hurting you.
And yet he couldn’t stop.
"Shit, what do you want from me!?"
Instead of answering, he just bites down on your throat instead. Sharp. Claiming. So suddenly, your whole body arches into him against every intention you had.
A broken sound tears out of you—high and pathetic—and you immediately hate yourself for letting it slip.
Teeth sinking in harder, not enough to break skin but enough to mark, enough to own, and your cunt clenches around him so violently it makes him stutter.
Yanking you up higher, forcing your back to scrape against the wall, making you cry out in pain- as he drives in deeper.
The anger frays at the edges where the pleasure keeps burning straight through—white-hot and unforgiving.
“I h-hate you-” you gasp. Not true. Completely not true, and you both know it.
“You’re so—” Another broken moan cuts you off, raw and humiliating. “Infuriating.”
He makes a sound against your neck. Low. Pained. Even that tiny admission costs him something precious.
Still nothing.
You’re crying now—angry tears spilling hot and fast down your face, your body betraying you completely as he drives you up the wall again and again.
Each thrust shoves you higher toward something you don’t want to give him.
“Please,” you break, hating how small and wrecked it comes out. “Please just say it. Tell me you need me. Tell me I’m—that I’m yours, that this means something, that you’re not just going to let me disappear one day and feel nothing—” His entire body goes rigid.
Exhaling, his hand slides from your throat to cradle the back of your head.
His forehead presses so hard to yours it almost hurts, eyes squeezed shut, hips grinding deep and slow and devastatingly deliberate now.
Every roll of his hips drags his cock against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your vision spark white.
He still doesn’t say it, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants to hear.
Xiao pulls you in so tight you can’t tell where he ends, and you begin anymore. Your breast presses hard against his chest, breath coming in short gasps from how tight he’s holding you, bruises already beginning to bloom.
Maybe...
“I’m staying,” you whisper, defeated, wrecked, voice cracking on every syllable. “I-i’m yours. I’m not leaving. Just—don’t let go.”
The sound he makes is quiet.
Devastated and relieved in a way that breaks your heart a little. He comes with his face buried in your neck, shaking hard, one arm locked around your waist like even now he doesn’t trust you won’t vanish.
Thick, hot ropes of cum flood you—spurt after spurt—while his teeth stay sunk into your throat, muffling the broken groan that vibrates against your skin.
He keeps rolling through it, slow and possessive, making sure every drop stays deep inside you.
Afterward, the room is just breathing. Heavy. Sticky. Charged. Then, so quiet it barely exists:
“…Again.”
Not another round, you know that.
He wants to hear it again—the words he can’t say himself, confirmed in your voice, real and present and not leaving.
“I’m yours, Xiao.” You press your lips to his temple, voice hoarse and trembling. “I’m staying.”
His grip tightens instantly. Fingers digging back into your ass, cock still buried to the hilt and twitching inside you like it’s trying to root there forever.
Xiao still doesn’t say it back; you already know how he feels.
The dark, suffocating truth that settles in the quiet—in the iron grip of his arms and the door you both know he’d never let you reach—is that staying was never really your choice to make.
It stopped being your choice a long time ago.
…Some sick, exhausted piece of you doesn’t even want the choice anymore.
Precision Pass | Isagi Yoichi x Femboy!Reader PART 1
(A/N): enjoy this one, for my femboys out there<3
he/him/his pronouns, third person limited <3 (if the he,him,his is in is RED, thats the reader, in case some people cant get it. isagi's pronouns should be in BLUE. (i genuinely didnt know how to put it, since i write things in my name and pronouns first))
The morning sun glinted off the pristine turf of Bastard München's training pitch, the air thick with the smell of freshly cut grass and the faint tang of sweat. Isagi adjusted his shirt (he's always touching his shirt c'mon touch me instead), his eyes scanning the field as Noel Noa introduced the newest recruit.
The new guy was... small. Not just in height; His frame was delicate, almost fragile compared to the rest of the hulking roster (i want isagi's chest in my face). Short hair fell in soft strands across his forehead, and his uniform looked a size too big, the hem of his shorts brushing over thighs that-
Isagi's heartbeat skipped.
...oh. 🙏🤤🤤🤤
"Yoichi," Noa said, snapping Isagi from the thought, "He's your new midfielder. His job is to feed you the ball, no matter the circumstance."
Kaiser smirked from across the field, his eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up prey.
"Another pawn for the Isagi-King piece? Tch. Let's see if the kid survives."
But he didn't look at Kaiser, eyes shyly flicked to Isagi, cheeks pink. He nodded once. "I... I'll get it to you. Every time."
-
Training began with sprints and passing drills.
At first, Isagi assumed his confidence was just a rookie bravado. But then-
In a crowded midfield, Raichi cut in to intercept, Kaiser charged from the right, and a defender lunged straight into his space. He barely looked up. He moved- shadowing Isagi's run perfectly, weaving through the chaos like he could hear the rhythm of Isagi's own footsteps.
The ball slipped between two defenders and landed- exactly on the inside of Isagi's right foot.
The timing was flawless.
The pass was impossible.
And the way his short burst to recover position made his thigh muscle flex-
Isagi shook the thought away, flushing in irritation at himself. Focus, idiot! Ego first, drool later. (me too 🤤)
Except... every single time he touched the ball, it ended up right where Isagi wanted it. No hesitation, no wasted motion- just an unbroken tether between midfielder and forward.
It was addictive.
-
After practice, the locker room buzzed with banter. Kaiser bragged about his latest goal, Raichi complained about his sore legs, and Noa reviewed the team's positioning.
Isagi sat on the bench, untying his cleats, when he shuffled over. He held a towel in one hand, still in his kit, hair damp from the shower's steam.
"You played.... amazing today," He said softly, almost as if he wasn't sure if praise was allowed. "I... like following you."
Isagi blinked, caught between the words and the way his eyes darted away shyly. "You like-" He stopped, swallowing the other interpretation that shot to mind. "You mean in-game?"
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're easy to read. I can always where you want the ball to be. It's... fun."
Something in Isagi's chest tightened. This wasn't just skill. That was devotion.
And he knew, deep down, that Kaiser had just lost his spot as Isagi's favorite partner on the field.
-
That night, lying in bed, Isagi replayed the passes in his mind.
Not just the precision-
-but the way his shorts clung when he accelerated, the way his thighs tensed with every sprint, the way his shy glances made it feel like every pass was just for him.
Isagi smirked to himself in the dark.
Bastard München just became just became his field- and he was the key.
-
The next morning, he was summoned before most of the squad had even laced their cleats.
The training hall smelled faintly of dirt and rubber, lined with precision goal targets- small white circles fixed to the net, barely the size of a dinner plate. Noel Noa stood with a clipboard, his expression unreadable.
"Today," Noa said, "we're testing the truth behind your reputation."
He gestured to the setup. "Every ball you strike has to hit the exact spot you're given. Passes, shots- it doesn't matter. No excuses."
Kaiser leaned against the wall with a smirk. "Guess we'll see if you're just Isagi's pet project, or if you can actually play."
He didn't respond. He adjusted his socks, tugging them over his knees-
-and Isagi found himself staring.
Noticing the curve of his thigh under the fabric, the way the muscles tensed subtly even as he stood still. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away before anyone noticed.
-
The test began.
A whistle blew.
From midfield, he received the ball.
One glance toward the far-left target-
-bang. The ball kissed the mark perfectly.
Another ball rolled to him. This time, the target was on the opposite corner. His pass curved through the air like it had a homing device, slotting right into the circle.
Noa's pen scratched notes onto his clipboard. The other plays started murmuring.
Isagi watched with an intensity that made his own chest feel tight.
Every motion he made was compact, efficient- yet the speed of his footwork was explosive, his balance steady. And every single time he struck, his thighs flexed in perfect rhythm with the ball.
By the tenth attempt, he hadn't missed once.
By the fifteenth, Kaiser's smirk was gone.
-
"Final test," Noa called. "Live play."
They set up a mock scenario: defenders closing in, Isagi running forward. He had one chance to get the ball to him, lest he wanted to embarrass himself and die on the inside.
The whistle shrieked.
Defenders swarmed.
He sprinted- not towards space, but shadowing Isagi's every step. His eyes locked onto Isagi's run, reading it like the back of his own hand.
The pass left his foot at the perfect moment- threading between two defenders and spinning into Isagi's stride like they'd rehearsed it for years.
Isagi didn't even need to slow down. He took the shot, scoring clean into the top corner.
-
As the echo of the ball hitting the net faded, Noa nodded. "He's yours, Isagi. Don't waste him."
He ducked his head shyly, panting lightly. Isagi approached, tossing him a bottle of water. "You're insane, you know that?"
He blinked. "Was I... good enough?"
Isagi's smirk was sharp but warm. "You're perfect."
And he didn't just mean on the field.
-
(a/n:) sorry if this fic looked like the american flag, im not american though. if its confusing, dw, yall arent alone. im also confused about my own fanfic. NOT PROOFREAD
Hello, Nightowl here. I know I disappear ALL the time and randomly drop flops, but in the process of it all, I've written many stories with several parts.
With this in mind, I want you all to hang on for some of them! I sincerely appreciate the likes, reblogs and comments for more parts, and I assure you all that your requests for part two and other fanfics are heard.
Here's a list of what I will publish in chronological order:
Isagi Yoichi x Male!Femboy!Reader PART 1
Hiori Yo x Male!Masochist!Reader PART 1
Forbidden | Iso x GN!Reader PART 2
Why so Shy? | Iso x GN!Shy!Reader PART 5
PSWG Polyester x Femboy!Reader x Polyurethane
Isagi Yoichi x Male!Femboy!Reader PART 2
Hiori Yo x Male!Masochist!Reader PART 2
TBA...
I'll refer back to this to remove/add more, so stay tuned. Thank you.
A price that won't be paid | Kinich x Reader ONESHOT
(A/N): Hi :D Enjoy this quick Kinich fic I made while waiting for my cake with my friends, lol. Oh, but I actually based the reader off my personality, according to my friends. Apparently, I'm nonchalant.
If you notice a he/him typo describing the reader, it's because I usually write my stories with my own name and pronouns first, later changing it to a gender neutral reader.
GN!Reader x Kinich
The afternoon air over Natlan was heavy with heat, thick enough to make the horizon shimmer. You trudged along a narrow dirt trail winding between tall, golden grass, your pace as unhurried as the drifting clouds above. The scent of sun-baked soil clung to your clothes, the weight of the day settling over your shoulders like a warm blanket.
You liked it this way; empty road, no noise except the hum of cicadas and the occasional snap of a twig beneath your boots. The world was wide and loud, and you had no interest in hearing more than you had to.
A faint tremor passed under your feet.
You stopped, tilting your head slightly. Another tremor—heavier, faster this time. The grass ahead began to part violently, as if something massive was plowing through it.
Then you heard it.
The deep, guttural bellow of a saurian.
You exhaled through your nose, more irritated than alarmed.
The beast burst into view—a hulking creature with jagged scales, scarred hide, and eyes like molten amber. And just ahead of it, sprinting desperately, was a man with dark braids whipping over his shoulder, markings etched in paint across his arms.
The man was quick, but the saurian was quicker.
You stood perfectly still as they closed the distance, deciding whether to step aside and let nature take its course. You hated interfering—it always led to trouble.
But then the man tripped.
The saurian’s jaws gaped wide, ready to crush him.
Your hand twitched toward the Pyro Vision at your belt.
"…Tch."
In one fluid motion, flames burst to life along the length of your spear. The heat rippled outward, curling the grass tips into blackened ash. You stepped forward, the embers in your eyes reflecting the beast’s rage.
With a swift lunge, you drove the spear into the saurian’s flank, a burst of searing fire forcing it to recoil. It roared, thrashing, but you were already moving—pivoting to strike again, your movements smooth and deliberate. The heat intensified until the saurian let out a final, pained cry and stumbled backward into the wilderness, vanishing between the swaying grass.
The man on the ground coughed, pushing himself up. His eyes; sharp, bright, and still catching his breath; locked on you.
"You just… saved my life."
You were already turning away. "Looks like it."
"Wait!" the man called, jogging after you. "My name’s Kinich. I owe you."
You kept walking, your voice flat. "No debt. Keep it."
Kinich’s brow rose. "Sorry, that’s not how this works. Everything has a price."
"Not this."
The corner of Kinich’s mouth curved downward like a man who’d just heard a challenge he didn't want to take.
"We’ll see about that."
-
You lived in a small, weathered hut near the edge of a river. It wasn’t much—just a low bed, a table, and a cooking pit—but it was far enough from the markets and training grounds that no one came looking for you.
At least, until now.
The morning after the saurian incident, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Kinich holding a woven basket filled with fresh bread and smoked meat.
"Breakfast," Kinich said simply.
You eyed the basket, then Kinich. "I don’t buy from people who knock on my door."
"You’re not buying it. It’s payment."
"I told you, I don’t—"
"—accept payment?" Kinich finished for you, stepping inside anyway. "Then call it a gift. Gifts are free."
You stared at him for a long moment, then walked back to your chair, letting Kinich place the basket on the table. You didn’t eat from it.
The next day, Kinich was back—this time with an armful of neatly chopped firewood. The day after, he showed up with fresh river fish. By the fourth day, you found him repairing the fence around your small garden.
"You’re making noise," You said from the porch.
"You’re welcome," Kinich replied without looking up.
"I didn’t ask for this."
"You didn’t have to. You saved my life. That debt doesn’t go away just because you don’t want it."
You crossed your arms. "I saved you so you could live your life somewhere else."
Kinich just hummed without pausing his work. "Too late. You’re stuck with me until I say otherwise."
-
You tried to ignore him, but Kinich was like the midday sun—impossible to block out. Some days, he’d drag you into hunting trips “for practice.” Other days, he’d insist on escorting you to the markets “to make sure you’re not getting cheated.”
You resisted at first, but Kinich was persistent. And loud.
Still, there were moments—rare and brief—where you didn’t mind the company. Like one evening when they sat by the riverside, firelight flickering on their faces. Kinich leaned back, hands behind his head, watching the flames dance.
"You know," Kinich said, "you’re not as cold as you act."
You didn’t respond.
"You could’ve let me die that day. Most people would’ve. But you didn’t."
"Maybe I just wanted the noise to stop," You said.
Kinich hums, glancing at you with that same infuriating face. "Guess I’m making sure it never does."
You looked back at the fire, the corner of your mouth threatening to twitch upward.
"…Annoying."
; I AM SO SORRY. yandere, half serious half silly, dark content,I'm being so fr when I say these are degenerates, they are GOONERS ok, some nsfw content/mention in some parts (marked by a <3), not proofread i wrote this in the middle of class, depraved beings :(, fem reader for the women but otherwise gn, more specific warnings are listed below their names! it got short in the end bc this is just word vomit okay
alhaitham gets unreasonably jealous when you seek out other tutors that aren't him. oh, you like the way the organic chemistry teacher explains calculus to you? ok...! I guess you want him to kill himself, then! :))) he tries so hard to win the idgaf war everytime he sees you watching said channel on youtube during your shared study sessions, but he slides down the door in utter agony the moment he enters his dorm. that should have been him !! he deserves to have a slowburn, academic rivals to lovers (excluding the part where he is batshit insane <3) 204k words love story with you where in the end you willingly become his captive in his basement !! and he can't even be normal for once and just approach like a sane being to say, "hey, I can tutor you instead, lol." NO. he obtains an olympic medal from the amount of mental gymnastics he does just to nudge your mind into considering the idea of him tutoring you.
he begins to schedule your study sessions back at his dorm wherein instead of pulling out the lecture slides and listening to the organic chemistry tutor on youtube, you're forced to resort to the medieval method of pulling out a textbook while you're forced to listen to alhaitham drone on because for some mysterious reason, the wifi in his dorm stopped working. you grumble and verbally complain about his probable broke ass forgetting to pay the bills but really, he just cut the wires off just for this moment :/. kaveh's gonna have a meltdown when he comes home to no wifi, too. and all this for what? blockussy (blockmate ussy)? alhaitham, listen to your friends you're being unreasonable right now. alhaitham !!
he's always always ALWAYS partnered up with you in duo works or at the very least, placed in the same groups. he'd always act like it happened because of pure chance but if you take a glimpse at his phone's dms you'd see the death threats he's been sending to his peers and professors alike :/. and it's not even typed in a fed up way with incorrect punctuations nor does it include any slangs - it reads as an email. formal and straight to the point. yeesh.
<3: after every written midterm or final exam, your sheet of paper always go mysteriously missing and you always shrug it off because who gaf about a damned piece of paper that only caused you misery. but alhaitham does. he always collects your exam papers so that he can paste it on the walls of his room, and it'll be the first thing that his eyes settle on the moment he enters. it makes him incredibly proud to see your high marks every single time, he can't help but feel pride in his chest (he thinks he's part of the team 😭😭), especially if it was a subject he tutored you on. but more than anything, he just loves the way intellect looks so good on you. and it would be somewhat sweet if he didn't take your exam papers without your knowledge and if he stopped nutting on them every time he gets worked up :/.
ayato:
(coercion)
ayato traps you into a relationship within less than a month of knowing him 😞💔. your first meeting was probably preconstructed, too. maybe you two stumbled into each other amidst a busy street or reached for the same book in a secluded store - a supposed meet-cute in your eyes but it quickly becomes a horror story because he has your routine and behavioral pattern memorized and noted down in his phone just so he can plan ahead. he manages to coerce you into a date the same day you two met, and you're left wondering if it's his charisma or you've just been intimidated into giving him a chance. either way, you end up having more casual dates in the span of two (2) weeks until one day a friend of yours sends you an article link. your blood runs cold when you see the headline and a familiar picture of a date with him underneath it - what do you mean conglomerate heir??? ayato?? relationship???? in a fit of panic, you end up spamming his dms and he'd have the gall to try and act sad, saying shit like, "oh, wow :(((. that's crazy :(( so sorry this happened to you because of me! might as well commit, right? :<" but secretly giggling twirling his hair and kicking feet from the fruition of his plan. asshole.
loves sharing his boba drink with you to have his indirect kisses. what's yours is his and what's his is yours, or whatever he droned on about. plus, it's a combination of two of his favorite things, after all - boba tea and you <33. he'd just bring the straw near your lips and look at you with his signature close-eyed smile as he gently tells you to try out this new boba tea flavor (a lie, it's always the same flavor) he got. he'd insist and insist, causing you to crumble under the pressure of him as you reluctantly sip from the straw. and he always looks so euphoric after sipping the same straw you just done seconds prior. freaky. his day is genuinely ruined if you don't drink from his boba tea at least once.
ayato detests it when he has to have people keep tabs on you, so he tries to prevent this by just... making you stick to him 24/7 :). it's so, so awkward when he's in a board meeting and you're literally next to him playing fuckass blockblast on your phone, all uninterested in their businesspilled businessmaxxing strategies. you'd rather be anywhere but here, sigh. you often catch middle-aged men eyeing you from the corner of their eyes probably wondering who got your random ass here (they don't know it's ayato kamisato </3).
lumine:
(non-consensual touching, freakazoid lumine, taking advantage of someone under the influence of alcohol, spit)
oh brother, someone get her off the stage !!!! wherever you go, she follows, or whatever that bruno mars song says, but she takes it literally. whenever you're enlisting your college subjects for the term, trust she'll be all up in your messages begging and begging for you to send your schedule so she can match yours to a T. it's practically an unspoken rule in your college that the seat next to you is lumine's seat and the other side has to remain empty or else she'll tweak the fuck out. should the lectures end early, lumine will drag you to spend your free time in the campus cafe or library while waiting for your next class. she literally hounds you like a guard dog to ensure no one will approach you.
<3: lumine always goads you into joining her in sorority parties just for two (2) reasons: to kiss you silly while you're inebriated enough to not remember it the following day and to spit in your alcoholic drink while you're unaware. the night starts off fun despite your initial refusal - beer pong, shot tricks with lumine, playing uno, watching that hu tao girl do a cannonball from the house's roof - it's all so.. amusing. you've just survived your finals. lumine and you deserve this night of enjoying your youth, even more so when she brings out the hard liquor with no chaser provided to soothe the burning sensation of alcohol. so it's no wonder how and why you got so drunk in just a few shots in. it's no wonder, too, when you end up in a secluded bathroom away from the life of the party with someone's tongue being shoved down your throat all while grinding into you - aiming to devour you whole with the hunger of a starving beast. you don't remember much; you never do. but particular honey eyes are starting to become familiar for reasons you don't want to entertain... lumine would never, right? but this happens again and again and again until you're left with no choice but to stop going to parties altogether.
lumine and her big fuckass bug eyes love to stare. that's all she did when she met you the first time during freshman year - stare. Ever since then, she'd shown her more extroverted, loud, silly nature, but sometimes she reverts back to her old habits and just stares at you for hours on end with not a single word uttered. admittedly, it's unnerving at times since the only thing (err, person) she stares at when she gets quiet is you. her eyes trail after your every movement, her gaze lapping up every visible inch of you. you get fed up and jokingly slap her back, and she snaps out of her trance with a sheepish chuckle. how silly of her!
<3: whenever lumine visits your dorm, she'd make sure your roommate is out for the night (if lumine had it her way, she'd be your roommate) and that she conveniently forgot to check the weather because now it's pouring outside and shows no signs of stopping soon. oh, woe is her! she looks so stressed and sad, too - how will she get home at this rate!? and with the kindness in your heart, you step in to offer sharing your bed with her. you don't even get to finish your sentence before she's enthusiastically agreeing with your offer. in the wake of the night, nestled in your cramped bed with no space left between the two of you, lumine patiently waits until you are lulled into the embrace of slumber. when she sees the slow rise and fall of your chest is when she reaches out a tentative hand to grope your breast through the thin fabric of your tank top. you're not wearing any bra. lumine bites her lip to prevent a moan from escaping. this is always her favorite part when she stays the night. she gropes, fondles, and squeezes - lumine just can't enough. she literally never sleeps because she's too busy gooning over you all night.
when you're in a cringefail losergirl yet still clinically insane competition but your opponent is furina de fontaine, global superstar of teyvat, with 60 million followers across all platforms who also happens to be a massive freak when no one's looking: :(
furina is deranged in a way that's akin to rising tides. you let her get away with miniscule, inconspicuous acts at the beginning until slowly but surely, as the water reaches your knees, you're now actively enabling her toxic tendencies under the guise of not wanting to upset sweet, sweet furina. she attaches quick. a week ago, she'd be subtly overstaying her welcome in your cozy apartment, then the following week, you just open your door to see her with bags packed, fully expecting you to accommodate her out of the blue. it's scary living alone, she'd explain, with stalkers and whatnot. but bitch, what about YOUUUU?? you're literally inviting THEE stalker into your house; wake up !!! if she has stalkers, and you (unknowingly) have a stalker.... then who's driving the bus? 😳😳
furina's admittedly a bad roommate when it comes to chores due to her status and schedule as a celebrity. oftentimes, when it's her schedule to wash the dishes or vacuum the living room, there's an 80% chance it's unfulfilled because of how busy it is. it's various small accumulations of errors until an incident happens that breaks the camel's back. you get fed up, and you two have a massive fight because of it, which ends in you walking out of the apartment, and in a fit of anger, telling her to pack her bags to move out. furina's knees buckle to the floor and just starts spiraling, genuinely. you come back to bloody floors and furina's wrists sliced repeatedly all while crying hysterically with a knife in her hands. your blood runs ice cold, burning the flames of what was once anger as you rush to her aid. 'i'm so, so sorry', you'd whisper out as you rock her back and forth. through garbled words, furina would then tell you, 'it won't happen again, I promise. just don't make me leave you, please.' because it's a fate worse than death in her eyes.
emilie:
(murder, mentioned masturbation, minor implication of s*icide, armpit, smell kink...)
<3: you once slept over at emilie's house and brought over your perfume since she was curious about what brand you use. while you were showering, emilie took the limited time she had to masturbate and, to the best of her abilities, shoved her bodily fluids into your favorite perfume :(( like girl, where's the decorum... you come out of the shower and don't even bat an eye to the unusual subtle flush on her cheeks (oh wow, is that a new blush shade on you, emilie? adorbs!) or how your perfume moved to a completely different location from where you put it. pure of heart, dumb of ass. you're dying first in a horror movie.
on a similar note, emilie eventually convinces you into letting her make your perfumes for you. it starts off in small mentions and passing comments of, 'oh, I can easily replicate this perfume's scent, you know?' or, 'hmm, try this sample I made instead.' until you're dragged into her perfume hole and now you must wear the perfumes she specially concocted herself and avoid brands like the plague OR ELSE you'll find her lodging a pistol up to her mouth because what's the point of living if you don't even like the most intimate form of love she can express - scents and perfumes.
<3: SHE HAS A SMELL KINK OKAY.... 😭😭 hear me out.. or don't, damn... but she loves sniffing every part of your body, it's genuinely her biggest turn on which is why she steals your panties for the sole purpose of huffing them like drugs. this is the chanel coco mademoiselle of her world !! she'll even take the bras and t-shirts you've worn because that means it has your body scent on it, awww! <3 and should she be given the chance, she'd definitely huff at your armpits. :(
emilie has definitely killed for you before, and yes, she did get away with it. with her other profession as a forensic cleaner and her connection with chevreuse in the police force, it's practically like taking candy from a baby - unbearably easy. she would lament the corrupt justice system of her country, butttt it benefits her as of this moment so :/ winners love winning. rip bozo, though!
albedo:
(fantasies, mention of dr*gs, smoking, and alcohol)
his biggest fantasy is you ruining his life. the thought of him, an up-and-coming prodigal STEM college student who's predicted to create research breakthroughs the moment he graduates - for all that potential to be thrown away just because of a singular person is actually his favorite thing. he wants the two of you to be dragged down together to rock bottom until there's no way up. but then you could be a fellow honor student too, so like, how can you even ruin his life? in cases like these wherein you're more of a good influence than bad, the downfall moreso lies in the existence of you rather than the actions that you do. just... being next to you poisons albedo's mind and slowly drives him to do crazy, unhinged things. it could be in a fit of want when he impulsively knocks your head over with an object to trap you inside his cramped one-bedroom apartment or in a moment of rage where he ends up stabbing someone who got too close to you. it's in drastic actions done that takes a while for albedo to realize that he fucked himself and his studies over. and... there's a part of him that wants that. to love you so much he ruins his life in the name of you, is that not romance?
but in the event that you are indeed a perceptively bad influence on him, oh. he takes joy in joining you in activities that knowingly destroy your and your health. smoking cigarettes? teach him how to inhale without coughing it up. drinking alcohol to a concerning degree? be sure to bring some for him next time. skipping classes and neglecting your academics? he can do it for you if you want :)
he loves it. ruining his life is a joint effort between you and him.
childe:
(situationship victim childe, universe where childe isn't that freaky.. woah. i will remedy this with my next post (jk...... i think.))
<3: this man literally never fails to piss you off but the dick is too good so you put up with his trashfire attitude on a daily basis just to get laid :(. he's not even horrible in a 'jock, douchebag' way but more of a 'dog who can't leave you alone' way - he attaches himself to your side like superglue and no matter how hard you try to nudge him off, he. will. not. leave!! it's cute at first, but sometimes you turn your phone off just for an hour to be free from his spam texts. he's literally your toxic, manipulative girlfriend, I fear. you don't respond to his texts in 0.0234304 seconds, and now he can't help but worry if you're having an affair behind his back (delusion final boss). he tags you in his Instagram stories and facebook posts when the dms doesn't work and yes, you do end up responding because being outed in public because of CHILDE out of all people puts you in aura debt.
he's def your childhood friend who literally gatekeeps you from anyone that shows even a smidgen of an interest in you :(. when someone taps his shoulder the moment you're out of sight to ask for your number, childe's giving them his and when they hit 'you' up - they get insta-blocked. should an event happens where they do manage to get your number, childe will be the one to terrorize them in messages to leave you the fuck alone, they're spoken for !! even if they may not have a label on their relationship.... it's still a relationship, nonetheless !!!
childe loves cooking for you, and he genuinely crashes out if you eat takeout or try someone else's cooking. fuck off with the wanmin takeout xingqiu, that's probably poisoned. ugh, go away escoffier with your filet mignon doodoo. no, yoimiya, (y/n) doesn't want your fuckass onigiri because childe already packed them lunch !!!!!!! why is everyone so hellbent on feeding you??? childe is actually so close to bringing a pistol to college. he views them all as the ugly hag queen giving snow white the poisoned apple btw.
tells everyone around him, family and friends alike, that he's your boyfriend, which greatly contradicts your given statement because you tell everyone instead that your relationship with him is, 'just complicated'. ouch. he laughs it off outside, but he's throwing up and seething the moment he's alone. he's playing the long game here, people !! it's okay if he's not your boyfriend because he knows he'll be your husband :))) it's all in the mindset. he'll show them all when he inevitably mails them invitations to his wedding with you in a few years. yup.
kinich:
(masturbation, lowk delusion)
kinich... kinich makes a version of you and him in the sims :(. he saw it on tiktok once, and really liked the idea. and he becomes so ingrained in the sims-world version of you and him who are married, woohoos every 10 seconds, have 10 children together with a lizard named ajaw that when he attends his first class next semester he gets a whiplash at seeing you in the flesh. like, oh! he forgot that you weren't dating him and that everything was just a figment of his fantasies for a second there :)
<3: definitely used his real-life pet lizard ajaw to lure you into visiting his room, thanks ajaw! he infodumps about lizards his way into bed with you and he hits it raw with no condom whatsoever for his first time, too. #nolongervirgin. like woah... they were not familiar with kinich's game at awl.... and you end up coming back the next day because he told you he'd explain his PC specs in detail and where he got his gaming chair from like GET UP 😭😭😭
<3: HE JERKS OFF TO YOUR IN-GAME AVATARS. PUT HIM DOWN. like this isn't funny anymore, kinich is so depraved that when he plays online games with you and sees your character model, he starts masturbating while the two of you grind to defeat the enderdragon or try to escape the roblox obby. what's so sexy about 8bit pixels kinich..... and if he's this horrendous with your avatars then don't imagine how hard he's jerking off when you VC on discord with him. yikes.
chasca:
(panty stealing, mention of period and discharge)
<3: chasca loves stealing your panties whenever she manages to find an excuse to visit your house. what you don't know won't hurt you. and trust me, she loves all types of panties that you've worn, but her favorite has to be the used panties stained with either your vaginal discharge or period blood. she can never be grossed out, not when it came from your body - which is exactly why she'll reverently clean it up using her tongue as she inevitably soaks her own panties from the sheer arousal she's experiencing. listen, emilie steals your panties to sniff them - chasca steals your panties to taste your fluids; they are not twins !!
<3: on the topic of pussy... she loves eating your pussy. do not shoot the messenger. she has a oral fixation and just loves tonguing you for hours on end on the days when college isn't demanding your blood and soul. you always end up overstimulated by the time night comes, and you're just begging her to lay off your pussy and look at the fucking tiktoks you sent her !!
chasca, gatekeeper extraordinaire, always waits for you after lectures as a silent stake of claim to you. no one really bothers chasca because of quiet nature and intimidating stance which then extends to you.
xilonen:
(no warnings this is tame, there's more I want to say but-[REDACTED])
if ifa pet-traps you, then xilonen definitely parent-traps you. she just shows up to one of your scheduled hangouts with nepecha hiding behind her legs, explaining how the little girl came from a house of abuse, and expects you to agree in co-parenting her like???? i mean, yeah, you do give in but but but !!! parenting is a serious commitment, xilonen !! what if your friendship with her falls out which will then force you to stop visiting nepecha due to the awkwardness !! xilonen will look at you straight and then say in an exasperated manner, "then just, don't make it happen? ugh, stop overcomplicating things." and well... yeah, she's right actually :(. so now you're obligated to invest time and energy on your newly appointed daughter, nepecha, alongside xilonen. okay happy family.
<3: xilonen loves your tits and it's serious business for her. she worships them like a newfound religion and she even kneads your boobs like a cat and loves laying in between them when it's time to sleep while tv plays in the background. should you complain about your boobs getting sore from all her abuse and wanting the position to be switched for once, then xilonen will gladly offer hers. like, just ask :/ It's literally not that deep because she's still winning either way.
(A/N: Hello~ I'm dropping one part of this Iso x reader, before I move on to the requests. Ya'll have been THIRSTING for Iso smut, I fear (I simply must indulge you all). Lovelove, Nightowl~)
Cold!GN!Reader x Gymrat!Iso
MODERN AU
(Reader is implied to be feminine, because of makeup, but hey, who says men can't wear makeup, huh? I certainly wear makeup on a daily basis >:()
The mall’s bright lights reflected off the glossy floor, blending into the buzz of conversations, the chime of store doors opening, and the faint beat of a pop song playing over the speakers.
You barely paid attention to it all.
You were seated across from Sage at the food court, absently plumping your already plump lips in a compact mirror. Sage, ever chatty, had been on a video call with her boyfriend, Iso, while sipping on a bubble tea.
“Babe, guess who I’m with?” she giggled, flipping the camera to you.
You didn’t react. You were used to being shown off like some prized possession. It wasn’t that you disliked Sage; Sage was probably one of the few people you tolerated. But you weren't one for social interaction beyond surface-level niceties.
Instead of acknowledging the camera, you continued fixing your lips, your large, doe-like eyes flickering briefly to the screen before returning to your reflection.
Iso, on the other hand, froze mid-rep at the gym. The weight he had been lifting hovered for a moment before he placed it down, eyes locked on his phone screen. His heartbeat quickened, though he didn't quite understand why.
“Cute, right?” Sage teased, noting his expression. “My bestie loves makeup and taking pics. Basically an Instagram royalty!”
Iso barely registered Sage's words.
There was something about the quiet way you carried yourself, the indifference in your gaze, the way you seemed entirely uninterested in him or anything else beyond your own little world. It was... mesmerizing.
He cleared his throat, forcing a chuckle. “Yeah, pretty much,” he admitted, but his voice lacked its usual teasing tone.
You hummed, finally acknowledging them, your voice soft but disinterested. “Are we done?”
Sage laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” She turned the camera back to herself, chatting away with Iso, but his mind was elsewhere.
Even after they ended the call, he found himself replaying that fleeting glance, wondering why, for the first time in his relationship, he felt something shift inside him.
Something he wasn’t supposed to feel.
-
Iso lay in bed, staring at his phone screen, the dim glow illuminating his face. Beside him, Sage slept peacefully, her breathing steady, her arm draped loosely over his torso.
And yet, he was wide awake.
He hadn't meant to do this. He told himself he was just mindlessly scrolling, just passing time. But somewhere between checking notifications and liking random posts, his thumb hovered over Sage’s followers list.
It was too easy to find you.
@ yn.aaa
Iso clicked on the profile before he could stop himself.
Your feed was a curated dream; pastel tones, soft aesthetics, and effortless poses that made you look almost unreal. Something like Royalty. You barely captioned your photos, yet each post had thousands of likes, comments flooded with admiration.
People adored you, and you never seemed to care.
You didn’t try to be alluring, but you were. The way your lips curled slightly, the way your big, glassy eyes stared through the screen—unbothered, untouched.
Iso exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
He shouldn't be here. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this.
And yet, long after he locked his phone and turned away from the screen, your image was burned into his mind.
-
Iso was supposed to be at the gym. That was his routine, his escape, the one place where his mind didn’t wander. But today, Sage had insisted he come to the mall instead.
“Come on, babe, you never shop with me,” she had pouted, clinging to his arm. “It’s just for a little bit, plus my friend's coming too!”
That last part had made him hesitate. But now, here he was, following Sage and you through endless rows of makeup counters and designer displays, feeling completely out of place.
You barely acknowledged him.
You were polite, offering the occasional hum or glance, but mostly, you were lost in your own world, swatching satin lippie shades on your wrist and examining foundations under the store lights.
You didn’t chatter like Sage did, didn’t seek his attention. If anything, you seemed indifferent to his presence.
And yet, you were stunning.
The way you moved, slow and deliberate, picking up only the most expensive makeup without hesitation. The way you’d tilt your head slightly, assessing a product like you were critiquing fine art. Your long lashes fluttered as you tested a new mascara, your lips pursed ever so slightly in concentration.
You were beautiful (hi men can be called beautiful btw im a man and im beautiful) in a way that was effortless. Unbothered. Distant.
Iso found himself watching you more than he should have.
“You take forever,” Sage whines to you. Then, with a giggle, nudging Iso.
Iso chuckled, forcing himself to look away. “Yeah… guess so.”
You glanced at them then, your gaze unreadable. For a brief moment, Iso wondered if you had noticed the way he’d been watching you.
Then, just as quickly, you turned away, focusing back on the shimmering palette in your hands, as if he were nothing more than background noise.
-
Iso shouldn’t be thinking about you.
But he was.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he found his mind wandering to the way your fingers had delicately brushed over the sleek packaging of a designer lipstick. The way you had barely spoken, yet still held the air of someone untouchable. Unreachable.
What would it be like to change that?
He knew it was wrong. Knew it was dangerous.
But the thought crept in anyway; what if he bought all that expensive makeup for you? What if he placed it in your hands and watched your reaction? Would you still be so indifferent, or would you soften, even just a little?
What would it take to melt the ice around your heart?
Iso ran a hand over his face, frustrated. He was spiraling, losing control of his thoughts. Sage was beside him, the girl he loved—the girl he should be thinking about.
And yet, it wasn’t Sage’s face that lingered in his mind.
It was yours.
-
The mall was bustling as the trio wandered through, Sage leading the way with you trailing just behind her, brows furrowed in concentration as you examined a new makeup line.
Iso, walking silently behind them, kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his mind wandering, his thoughts distant.
It wasn’t until Sage's voice broke the silence that he snapped back to the present.
“Hey, check that guy out!” Sage pointed to a tall figure walking past them, his biceps bulging beneath the fabric of his tight shirt. “Big biceps, right?”
Your eyes flicked briefly to the man, but you didn’t seem to care for his face.
Instead, your gaze lingered on his arms, the defined muscles clearly catching your attention. For just a moment, your lips parted, and there was a quiet appreciation in your gaze before you glanced away, the indifferent mask returning instantly.
Sage, noticing your subtle reaction, smirked. “Told you, didn’t I? They love guys with big biceps.”
Iso, who had been walking with his hands shoved in his pockets, froze at her words.
His heart skipped a beat, and an inexplicable rush of unease hit him. His eyes darted between you and the man, a slow realization creeping into his chest.
You had looked at the guy the way he had hoped you might look at him. It wasn’t just a passing glance, it was a flicker of something deeper. Something… appreciative.
Iso flexed his own biceps subconsciously, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt, wondering if that was what had drawn your attention.
He’d worked hard for them at the gym; every rep, every set had been an effort to improve himself, to grow stronger. But now, he was aware of something more: you seemed to notice, maybe even admire, strength in a way Sage never had.
Was that the key?
“Yeah, they're into the muscles,” Sage continued with a playful grin, oblivious to the tension building in Iso’s chest. “You should see the guys they follow on Instagram. It’s all about the muscles.”
Iso didn’t reply.
His mind was racing. His thoughts shifted from the man with the muscles to the realization that he had the same kind of physique—strong arms, defined chest, and all the effort he’d put into his gym sessions.
Could this be the key to catching your attention? Could something as simple as his own body be what you were seeking?
The idea gnawed at him, his stomach twisting. He shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t be questioning everything about his relationship with Sage. But there was a pull, an undeniable curiosity about you that he couldn't ignore.
As you turned your attention to the next makeup display, your disinterest in him clear once again, Iso felt a pang of frustration. He had everything you seemed to like, but you barely spared him a second glance.
What would it take to get you to notice him?
The thought lingered in his mind as they continued to walk, and Iso realized that this time, he was more determined than ever to find out.
-
(A/N: How's this one? Lol. I was having that male ovulation phase, just had to write about Iso. How do we feel about this one, chat? I DO NOT CONDONE STEALING SOMEONE FROM A RELATIONSHIP. Anyway, time for my plug- follow me on twitch.tv/nightowlzxz!)
Idk if u write for yoru but yoru x male reader smut?
I DONT WRITE SMUT
NSFW under the cut 🤫 new year, new writing style~
The bar was alive with the hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint thrum of bass from the jukebox in the corner.
You leaned against the sticky counter, your cheeks already flushed from the heat of alcohol coursing through you.
Your fingers drummed restlessly on the rim of your glass, the amber liquid inside sloshing dangerously close to the edge.
Across from you sat Yoru, his sharp eyes glinting like a predator stalking its prey. The man's smirk was as dangerous as it was inviting, and you couldn't help but feel the weight of that gaze settle deep in your gut.
"You're tapping out already?" Yoru drawled, his voice low and smooth, laced with amusement. He swirled his own drink lazily, ice cubes clinking softly. "Thought you said you could keep up. Or was that just your pride talking?"
You bristled, your competitive streak flaring. "I'm not tapping out," you shot back, your voice louder than you intended. A few heads turned their way, but you didn't care.
Your pride was on the line now. "I'm just pacing myself. You know, like someone who actually knows how to handle their liquor."
Yoru chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Pacing yourself? Alright, doll. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter, his face inches from yours. "But let's make this interesting, huh? Just drinking is boring. What do you say we up the stakes?"
You hesitated, your brain foggy from the alcohol but still aware enough to sense the trap being laid. Still, the challenge in Yoru's tone was impossible to resist.
"What kind of stakes?" You asked, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse quickened.
Yoru's grin widened, revealing a flash of teeth. "If I win, you owe me something. Something... valuable." His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, making it abundantly clear what he meant by valuable.
Then, he shrugged, leaning back. "And if, by some miracle, you win, I'll pay your tab for the night. Deal?"
Your throat went dry, but the alcohol had already dulled his better judgment. You raised your chin defiantly. "Deal."
They shook on it, Yoru's grip firm and deliberate, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a way that made your stomach twist.
The next hour passed in a blur of shots, laughter and increasingly slurred words. You tried to keep up, you really did, but Yoru was relentless. By the time the bartender cut them off, you head was swimming, and the room tilted dangerously every time you moved.
Yoru, seemingly unfazed, propped his chin on his hand, watching you struggle to stay upright. "Looks like I win," he said, his voice carrying a note of triumph. "Time to pay up, doll."
You blinked at him, your thoughts slow and muddled. "Pay... what?"
Yoru smirked, pulling a crumpled napkin from his pocket and sliding it across the counter. "You signed it," he said, tapping the messy scrawl at the bottom. "Right here. Your virginity belongs to me now."
You stared at the napkin, your heart plummeting. The memory came rushing back; How Yoru had slid the pen into your hand, how he'd laugh and egged you on, how you, too drunk to think straight, had scribbled your name without reading what he was agreeing to.
"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "That doesn't count. That's not-"
Yoru cut you off with a laugh. "Oh, it counts. A bet's a bet, doll. Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now." He stood, towering over you, and extended a hand. "Come on. Let's go somewhere more private."
You hesitated, your mind racing. You could refuse. You could call it off right now, walk away, pretend this never happened. But something about the way Yoru looked at you, the sheer confidence in his expression, made it impossible to say no.
Slowly, reluctantly, you took Yoru's hand and let yourself be pulled to your feet.
-
The walk to Yoru's apartment was a blur. You barely registered the cool night air or the distant hum of traffic. All you could focus on was a steady grip of Yoru's hand around your wrist, guiding you forward.
They stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind them, the sound final and unyielding.
Yoru turned to you, his expression softening slightly. "You okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm not gonna force you."
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Part of you wanted to run, to bolt out the door and never look back. But another part, a deeper, darker part, was curious. Excited, even.
You'd spent so long wondering, fantasizing, but always holding back. Now, standing here with Yoru, you felt the first flicker of something new; Something terrifyingly exhilarating.
"I... I want to," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing."
Yoru smiled, cupping your cheek with one hand. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”
The kiss was soft at first, testing, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But when you didn't, Yoru deepened it, his tongue slipping past your lips in a slow, deliberate motion that left you breathless.
Your hands found their way to Yoru's shoulders, gripping tightly as if you might fall otherwise. Every nerve in you body was alight, every touch sending sparks shooting through you.
Yoru guided you backward until they reached the bed, then gently pushed you down onto the mattress. Your heart raced as Yoru loomed over you, his eyes dark with intent. “Relax,” Yoru whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “Just let me take care of you.”
And then his lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Each touch was electric, leaving you gasping and arching into him. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… safe. Yoru’s movements were confident yet tender, like he knew exactly what you needed even before you did.
When Yoru finally stripped you bare, your breath hitched. You felt exposed in a way you never had before, but instead of fear, there was only anticipation. Yoru’s hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with a reverence that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.
“You’re beautiful,” Yoru murmured, his voice rough with desire. And for the first time, you believed it.
Their bodies tangled together, moving in sync as Yoru guided you through each step. The pain was fleeting, quickly replaced by an overwhelming pleasure that left you trembling. You clung to Yoru, your nails digging into his back as waves of sensation crashed over you.
The sound of skin slapping, the musky scent of sex in the air, it was all too overwhelming, in a way that left you breathless.
“Y-You—” You stammered, your voice breaking as Yoru thrust into you again, hitting a spot that made uour vision blur. “I can’t—”
The morning light spilled through the blinds, casting a golden haze over Yoru’s bedroom. You stirred awake, your body still humming from the night before. Your muscles felt heavy, sore in ways you didn’t know were possible, and yet there was a lingering warmth—a satisfaction that clung to you like a second skin.
You turned your head, your gaze landing on Yoru, who was already propped up on one elbow, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“Morning,” Yoru said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet dragging over sandpaper. “How are you feeling?”
You blinked, the memories of last night flooding back in vivid detail. Your cheeks heated as you muttered, “Um… fine. I think.”
Yoru smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Good. Because we’re not done yet.”
Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
Yoru leaned closer, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You lost the bet, remember? That means you’re mine until I say otherwise.” His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it—something sharp and commanding that sent a shiver down your spine.
Before you could protest, Yoru’s hand slid down your chest, fingers trailing over your stomach, lower and lower until they brushed against the sensitive skin between your thighs. You inhaled sharply, your body responding instantly despite his exhaustion.
“W-Wait—” You stammered, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can—”
“Shh,” Yoru murmured, his lips now pressed against your neck. “Don’t think. Just feel.”
His hand wrapped around your length, stroking you slowly, deliberately. You gasped, your hips instinctively arching into the touch. You tried to speak, to tell Yoru to stop, but the words caught in your throat, replaced by a breathy moan.''
Yoru chuckled, the sound dark and possessive. “There it is. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
He continued to stroke you, his movements agonizingly slow, each pass of his hand sending jolts of pleasure through your body. But just as you began to lose himself in the sensation, Yoru stopped, pulling his hand away completely.
You whined, your hips jerking forward as if chasing the contact. “Y-Yoru—why did you stop?”
Yoru’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Because I can,” he said simply. “And because you need to learn patience.”
You groaned, frustration bubbling up inside you. This wasn’t fair. You had barely recovered from last night, and now Yoru was toying with you again—teasing you, driving you to the edge only to pull back at the last second. But even as you thought this, a part of you craved more. The way Yoru’s touch electrified you, the way his commands made your mind go blank—it was intoxicating.
Yoru shifted, positioning himself between your legs. He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped at your inner thighs. You squirmed, your hands fisting the sheets as Yoru trailed kisses up the length of your shaft, stopping just short of the tip.
“Please,” You begged, his voice cracking. “Yoru—please.”
Yoru looked up at you, his expression smug. “Please what?”
You hesitated, your face burning with embarrassment. You knew what Yoru wanted you to say, but the words stuck in your throat, too mortifying to voice aloud.
Yoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your hesitation. “If you want something, you have to ask for it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “P-Please… touch me.”
Yoru smirked, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Good boy.”
He wrapped his lips around the tip of your cock, sucking gently. You cried out, your back arching off the bed. Yoru’s tongue swirled around the sensitive flesh, his hand gripping the base to keep you from thrusting too far into his mouth. The combination of heat and pressure was overwhelming, and your vision blurred as pleasure surged through you.
But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, Yoru pulled away again, leaving you gasping and desperate.
“No!” You protested, your voice breaking. “Why do you keep stopping?”
Yoru sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because I enjoy watching you fall apart,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “And because I want to see how far I can push you.”
He reached out, running a finger along the underside of your cock, making you shudder. “You’re so responsive,” Yoru mused, his tone almost admiring. “Every touch, every word—you react so beautifully. It’s addictive.”
You whimpered, your body trembling with need. You hated how much he loved this—how Yoru’s control over you made you feel both helpless and exhilarated. You wanted to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but every time Yoru touched you, every time he spoke, you found himself succumbing all over again.
Yoru leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.
You hesitated, your mind racing. Did you? Last night had been your first time—your first everything. And yet, despite the unfamiliarity, despite the fear, Yoru had guided you through it with a patience and care that surprised you. Even now, as Yoru teased you mercilessly, there was a part of you that trusted him completely.
“Yes,” You whispered, your voice barely audible.
Yoru smiled, something tender flickering in his eyes. “Good. Then let me show you something new.”
He moved lower, positioning himself between your legs once more. This time, instead of focusing on your cock, Yoru spread your thighs wider, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just below your balls. You tensed, unsure of what to expect, but Yoru’s touch was gentle, coaxing you to relax.
And then you felt it—the warm press of Yoru’s tongue against your entrance. Your eyes flew open, a gasp escaping your lips. “W-What are you—?”
Yoru ignored you, licking and probing at the tight ring of muscle until it relaxed under his ministrations. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced—strange and intimate and utterly overwhelming. You clutched at the sheets, your breath coming in shallow gasps as waves of pleasure radiated through you.
“Y-You can’t—” You choked out, your voice shaking. “That’s—oh god—”
Yoru pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a wicked grin. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before,” he said, his tone playful.
You shook your head frantically, your face burning with embarrassment. You had heard about this kind of thing, of course, but actually experiencing it was something else entirely. The idea of someone putting their mouth there—it should have been disgusting, humiliating even. And yet, the way Yoru’s tongue danced over your sensitive flesh made you feel things you couldn’t begin to describe.
Yoru chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Relax,” he said, his voice soothing now. “Just let yourself feel.”
He returned to his task, his tongue working its magic as you writhed beneath him. The pressure built steadily, each lick and suck bringing you closer to the edge, but Yoru seemed determined to draw it out as long as possible. Every time you got close, Yoru would slow down, easing off just enough to keep you suspended in a state of unbearable tension.
“Yoru—” You panted, your voice hoarse. “I can’t—please—I need—”
Yoru lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. “Need what?” he asked, his voice a low purr.
You stared at him, your mind a haze of pleasure and frustration. “I need… to cum,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Yoru’s smile widened, predatory and triumphant. “Not yet,” he said, his tone final. “You haven’t earned it.”
You let out a strangled groan, your body trembling with desperation. You wanted to scream, to beg, to demand that Yoru finish you, but you couldn’t find the words. All you could do was lie there, overwhelmed by the relentless assault on your senses, as Yoru continued to push you to the brink—and then pull you back, over and over again.
“Please,” You finally managed, your voice cracking with need. “I’ll do anything. Just—let me cum.”
Yoru paused, considering you for a moment. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Beg.”
Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. You had never begged for anything in your life, but right now, with Yoru’s touch driving you to the edge of insanity, you would have done anything for release.
“Please,” You whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, Yoru—I need it. I need you.”
Yoru’s eyes burned with intensity, his grip tightening on your hips. “Louder,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire.
You sucked in a shaky breath, your body quivering with need. “Please!” you cried, you voice breaking. “Please, Yoru—I can’t take it anymore! Let me come! Please!”
For a moment, Yoru didn’t move, his gaze locked onto your face as if savoring the sight of you unraveling. Then, with a growl, he gave in. His hand wrapped around your cock, stroking you roughly as he slammed his tongue back into you, pushing him over the edge at last.
You screamed, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your vision went white, your mind blank except for the sheer ecstasy consuming you. You clung to Yoru, your nails digging into his shoulders as you came harder than you ever had before, spilling yourself over Yoru’s hand.
When the tremors finally subsided, you collapsed back against the pillows, you chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Yoru pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Well done,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. “You lasted longer than I expected.”
You blinked up at him, your mind still foggy from the intensity of your release. Longer than expected? How much longer could Yoru have possibly—
But before you could finish the thought, Yoru’s hand was moving again, stroking you back to full hardness. Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Again?!”
-
(A/N: hhhhey gaymers >.< i never thought i'd enjoy writing being dominated lol, how was it for you guys? i normally dont ever write for yoru but... i might make some more.....!!!!!!)
Hello, gaymers~ Nightowl here! It's a new year, which means I have improved to another writing style. Still pretty much the same, except a little different~
I've recently gotten into several fandoms! Now, I won't be focusing only on Iso, although my fixation on him is still there. I understand that I get requests for other characters too!
Under the cut are the fandoms and characters I write for~ These are subjected to change, so check back here from time to time!
Be sure to follow me on Twitch~ I sometimes stream my writing progress, so you guys can get some snippets! twitch.tv/nightowlzxz
(A/N: Welcome to my Birthday Special Fanfiction~ How are you guys doing? My birthday was on August 10! I know, I'm months late. But I hope you guys still enjoy this fanfiction nonetheless.)
(I gave the reader ice abilities, and Iso some shadow abilities because imagining Iso with shadow abilities makes me cum. I know. It will probably make you too.)
GN!Reader x Iso
TW: Obsession (I love the obsession trope. It's my birthday special, so I decided to make it my favorite trope. I made the reader SUPER COOL and SUPER NONCHALANT at first because why not.)
The streets were alive with chaos. Explosions shook the ground, and gunfire echoed in every corner. The enemy had unleashed their most dangerous weapon, and the mission seemed doomed.
Amid the chaos, you moved like a ghost. Your ice-coated boots barely made a sound through the broken remains of a building, your eyes scanning every shadow.
Suddenly, a movement caught your attention. A figure darted through the smoke, fast and fluid. But something was off. The way they stumbled. You grip your Vandal tighter and creep forward.
Just as you were about to turn a corner, you heard a groan. You peer through the smoke and debris and see him—Iso. The notorious agent, known for his ability to manipulate shadows and disappear at will, was on his knees, bleeding from a deep gash on his side.
You froze. You heard about him. The lone wolf. The assassin who never worked with anyone. But right now, Iso didn't look invincible. He looked human. And vulnerable.
Without a second thought, you rush to his side. You crouch next to him, your hands glowing faintly with ice energy as you press them to his wound, slowing the bleeding.
Iso's eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun, but his vision blurred as he recognized the figure kneeling beside him.
"It's you..." he rasped, barely able to form words.
"Stay still," you command, your voice cold but steady as your icy powers worked to freeze the blood long enough for him to heal. "You're lucky I found you."
You ignore the comment, focusing on stabilizing him. Iso watched you work, fascinated by the contrast of your delicate hands and the deadly power you wield.
Something was mesmerizing about your calm under pressure. As you work, the world seems to fade away in Iso's eyes. He found himself staring, the pain in his side forgotten for a moment.
You glanced at him. "You'll live, but you owe me one."
Iso chuckled, though it was cut short by the pain. "I don't... like owing people."
"You'll get over it." You scoff, standing up.
-
The mission was somehow completed. Both you and Iso had made it out alive, though barely. Days later, back at base, Iso couldn't get you out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you — the way your icy powers had flowed through your hands with such precision, the way you had saved him without hesitation.
It gnawed at him. He wasn't used to needing anyone, let alone being saved by someone.
He found himself wandering the halls of the base, looking for you. Obsessing over his and your encounter, replaying it over and over again. He knew he should be focusing on his recovery, on the next mission, but you had become a fixation.
He wanted to understand — this mysterious person who had appeared in his life at his most vulnerable moment.
When he finally found you, you were in the training room, perfecting your aim. Your breath was steady, your movements fluid as you fired shot after shot with pinpoint accuracy. Iso watched from the shadows, his haze never leaving you.
"You always watch from the dark, or are you planning on saying something this time?" Your voice broke the silence, your eyes never leaving your target.
Iso smirked, stepping into the light. "You noticed."
"I always notice," You replied coolly, finally turning to face him. "What do you want?"
He wasn't sure how to answer that. He wasn't used to wanting anything from anyone. But this... this was different.
"You saved me," he said after a pause, his voice low. "I don't forget things like that."
You tilt your head slightly, your expression unreadable. "You're welcome."
There was a moment of silence. Iso, normally quick with a retort, found himself at a loss for words. His obsession with you was growing by the minute, and he didn't understand it. All he knew was that he needed to be near you. To figure you out. To see if the ice-cold interior you showed to the world was real, or if there was something more beneath it.
You sense his inner turmoil, narrowing your eyes. "You're not used to people helping you, are you?"
Iso clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "No."
"Then stop following me around," You say bluntly, turning back to your target. "I'm not one of your shadows."
Your words stung, but Iso wasn't deterred. Instead, they fueled his obsession. He wanted to know why you had saved him, why you had chosen to help someone like him.
And more than that, he wanted to understand your identity behind the ice.
-
Over the next few weeks, Iso's fixation on you only deepened. He found excuses to train with you, to be in the same missions, always watching you, always drawn to the cold precision in which you operated. You intrigued him in a way no one ever had, and that both frustrated and thrilled him.
You, for your part, remained as distant as ever, though you couldn't deny the strange pull you felt towards Iso. He was reckless, unpredictable, and everything you usually despised in a teammate. Yet, there was something about the way he looked at you, the intensity in his gaze, that made you pause.
It wasn't long before Iso's obsession became undeniable, even to him.
One night, after a particularly grueling mission, Iso cornered you in the empty hallways of the base. His eyes, dark and intense, more into yours as he finally voiced the thoughts that had been consuming him.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he confessed, his voice rough. "You saved me. And now... I can't stay away."
Your heart raced, though your expression remained calm. "You're confusing gratitude with something else."
"No," Iso growled, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's more than that."
You met his gaze, ice meeting shadow, and for the first time, you didn't have a quick reply. The tension between them crackled, and the lines between the mission and obsession blurred.
Iso's expression darkened, his hand gently brushing your arm. "I don't want to conquer you. I just want... to understand."
You pulled away, your eyes cold and conflicted. "Then stop trying so hard."
But as you walked away, Iso knew it was too late. He was already too deep. And somehow, he sensed that beneath your icy walls, you were just as trapped in this dangerous game as he was.
-
The tension between you and Iso grew thicker with each passing day, yet something in you had begun to shift. Where once Iso's constant presence had felt suffocating, now it was... familiar. You could sense him before he entered a room, always lurking in the shadows, waiting, watching.
It was unnerving, yes, but there was a strange comfort in his obsession.
You had always been alone, used to standing apart from the others. Your ice powers isolated you, both physically and emotionally. Most of your teammates respected you, but none dared to come too close.
Until Iso.
At first, you tolerated his fixation, thinking it would pass. But now you begin to wonder if, in some twisted way, Iso understood you. He wasn't afraid of the cold, the distance. He wasn't put off by your silence or the walls you kept around yourself.
Instead, he seemed drawn to it, captivated by your very detachment.
It wasn't long before you stopped pushing him away.
-
One evening, after a particularly exhausting mission, you were sitting in the quiet of your room, your mind replaying the events of the day. You had barely noticed Iso slipping into the room, as silent as a shadow, until he was standing in front of you.
"You shouldn't be here," you said, though your tone lacked its usual sharpness.
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze. You knew you should tell him to leave, set boundaries, and stop this before it spiraled further.
But something inside you couldn't. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the mission or the loneliness that had been creeping into your heart for far too long.
"You're obsessed with me," you say simply, but without accusation.
Iso didn't deny it. "I am."
"And you're not going to stop, are you?"
He shook his head, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "No."
You leaned back in your chair, studying him. The old you—the you that had thrived on isolation—would have iced him out long ago. But something about Iso's unwavering devotion had worn you down. Maybe it was the intensity, the way he never faltered in his obsession.
Or maybe it was that part of you, the part that you tried so hard to keep frozen, that longed for connection.
"You're a fool," you said softly.
Iso knelt in front of you, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe. But I'm your fool."
You felt a small, almost imperceptible crack in the ice around your heart. You should have stopped this—should have pulled away before it became something darker, something dangerous.
But instead, you let him stay. His presence was suffocating, yes, but it was also strangely comforting. He was there, always there, and for once, you didn't feel completely alone.
You didn't speak as Iso reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against your cold skin. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine, though you kept your face composed.
"I can't stay away from you," Iso whispered, his voice raw with need. "I don't want to."
Your eyes flicked to his, your usual icy exterior melting just a fraction. "Then don't."
For the first time, you let him in. Just a little. It wasn't love, not yet, but it was something—something that tugged at the cold, hard edges of your soul. Iso's obsession was dark, unhealthy even, but there was a part of you that welcomed it, needed it. Maybe you had been in the cold for too long.
Iso smiled, a rare softness in his features as he realized what just happened. You had accepted him, accepted his obsession. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "I'll always be here."
"I know," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
For better or for worse, you had let Iso in. You knew it wouldn't be easy, knowing that his fixation on you was more dangerous than he let on. But for now, you had let yourself sink into the darkness of it, letting the shadows close in around you both.
For the first time in a long time, you weren't entirely alone.
-
(A/N: How was this? Thank you for the support, everyone! Obsession is one of my favorite tropes, and I hope you guys like this one too.)
WHEN IS PART 4 COMMING??? IM SO EXCITED EJNRMRKEKDMDM
Why so shy? Part 4
(A/N): Heya, gaymers. Another chapter is out! I'm sorry it took so long, but I hope someone has been noticing the patterns for when I publish these chapters. Thank you, everyone, for your continued support of my work. I love you guys! Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.
This was a short one, wasn't it? But at least the reader has some progress with Iso~
(Iso x GN!Reader)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4 (You are here.)
Nervous.
That was no longer the feeling. What was it, this time? You don't know anymore.
You sat quietly on the edge of your bed, looking down at your lap. Your mind was full, but full of what? Thoughts of Iso? Not anymore, you knew there was no chance.
What was the point of all of this? Your mind was tired from everything, your body was exhausted from running and your heart was aching.
What was this feeling? Rejection? No, you haven't even confessed yet. Still, you feel you already got rejected, even if you haven't confessed your feelings.
You'll get over it, the shadow inside your mind says. Yeah, that's what your parents said too, right? When you fell into a deep depression when you first got rejected?
You'll get over it. You will.
Will you?
-
What an unforgettable man Iso was.
You lay in your bed, your shadow abilities all over the place. For other people, your shadow abilities would have already suffocated them to death. It felt like a comforting hug for you, shielding you from the world.
Not once did Iso leave your mind. The pain in your heart was still lingering, eating away at your mind. What are you even hurting for? You and Iso were never a thing.
Ouch. Even telling yourself that hurt.
You sit up, looking at yourself in the mirror on the wall facing your bed. Your hair was a mess, your eyes red and swollen from crying.
You huff, shuffling off your bed and fixing your hair. It was about time that you step out of your room and get some air. Rotting in your room all day wasn't ideal, after all. You're still a Radiant.
You got a change of clothes and slid open the metal door of your room. You step outside into the hallway with a deep sigh. It felt like forever since you felt the air conditioning of the cold hallway.
Iso and Sage were probably on a date now, you thought to yourself as you walked towards the kitchen.
Maybe you should stop thinking about them. It's just hurting yourself more. You step inside the kitchen and sit down on the dining chair. What were you even doing? Why were you mindlessly wandering around?
You let out a deep sigh that you didn't know you were holding. What can you do? This was the first time that you felt like you couldn't do anything about the situation.
Maybe you should just let them be. You can't have everything you want, right? Not even people.
Just focus on other things, maybe now is not the time for love and feelings. Maybe now is just not your turn.
You perk up, hearing chatter from a distance coming towards the kitchen. Probably Jett and Phoenix, losing a bet to Yoru. You stood up, getting something to drink from the fridge so you could leave.
Until Iso and Sage walked in.
'God fucking dammit,' you thought, almost spitting out your drink. You avert your gaze, focusing on the fridge door. Yeah, like that's interesting. Fucking dumbass-
"Hey, there you are." You hear Iso's voice calling for you. GODDAMMIT.
You hesitantly turn to him, your heart skipping a beat. STOP THAT HEART RIGHT NEOWWWWW.
"Uh, um... Hey, Iso." You mumble, nodding awkwardly in his direction as he walks up to you. WHY IS HE APPROACHING??
"I asked Omen where you were, but he didn't know. Look, I got you some boba." Iso gestures to the plastic bag in his hand.
WhAT. WHAT. WHAAAAAAAAAAAT.
"Um- what?" You tilt your head, seeing Sage from the corner of your eye as she left.
"I asked you about what kind of boba you liked, remember? I got it for you," Iso smiles, offering you the plastic bag.
"I also bought some Chinese snacks I thought you'd like. I hope you do." Iso continues.
What? This man???
"Wh... Why?" You blurt out. That was completely unintentional because you were completely confused about his behavior.
Iso rubs the back of his neck, a shy smile on his face.
"Well... I went out with Sage because I wanted to ask her for advice about you." Iso admits.
wut.
"I asked Sage to go out for boba because I thought I could buy you the one you like, along with some stuff I think you'd enjoy.'' Iso put on a shy smile, looking at you.
Oh. OH. OH MY GOD?
At this point, your cheeks were getting red and flushed. YOU GOT JEALOUS WITH NO RIGHTS FOR NOTHING?
"Ah... T- Thank you..." You mumble, gently taking the plastic bag in your hands carefully.
"Would you want to go out with me sometime?" Iso abruptly says, causing you to choke on your own spit.
"WHAT?" You blurt out.
Well, that was embarrassing.
-
(A/N: Hey, everyone! So, how was this chapter? Was it to your taste? Let me know in the comments! Also, how about some juicy sexy scrumptious voluptuous steamy time with Iso for the ending? Let me know in the comments. Also, I'll publish my birthday special fanfiction soon! See you next time.)
Hey, gaymers! I've been gone for a while. My birthday also happened, during August 10! I'll be making a birthday special fic with Iso. Also, my part 4 draft got deleted. In fact, all of my drafts were. So, I've been set back. I'm very sorry, everyone. Of course, I still remember the details of part 4, however, I'll be remaking them.
Also, I've been very busy because of college. Please bear with me! I will be writing part 4, two smuts and one birthday special. Please look forward to it!
(A/N: Hello, gaymers. I don't know why you guys are shipping Iso x Clove and Iso x Gekko or Iso x Deadlock when you guys should CLEARLY ship ME WITH HIM instead. Anyway, I already wrote parts 3 and 4 in advance, I just forgor. Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.)
(WARNINGS: OOC Omen)
(GN!Reader x Iso)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 (You are here.)
Part 4
Nervous.
That was no longer what you were feeling right now.
You were too busy running away from the medical ward and back to the privacy of your room.
Maybe it isn't Iso. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was your fault for getting ahead of yourself. Maybe it was your fault for assuming that Iso liked you in the same way that you do.
Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your hopes up.
You stop in front of your door, panting heavily. You had to prevent your tears from falling out of your eyes, especially outside of your room.
Your eyes slowly started blurring from the tears as you tried to pry open your door.
notnownotnownotnownotnow, your mind raced.
You successfully unlocked your door and stumble inside.
Finally, you're alone, just as you always were. You let the tears fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks and clothes.
You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe then, you wouldn't be crying, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn't be in this situation—
A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.
You immediately wiped your tears away and sucked everything up, before approaching your door.
"W-Who is it?" You ask through the door, trying your best to sound like you weren't crying.
"It's me, Omen." Omen's gruff voice was muffled from the outside.
You sniffle, slowly getting up and opening the door slightly, enough for you to peek out and see Omen.
"Hey, Omen... Do you need something?" You ask, albeit a little too quiet for your liking.
"Greetings," Omen nods.
"I've noticed that the atmosphere around the HQ seems a little darker than usual," Omen's 'eyes', which were just three slits, moved as he spoke.
"The shadows also seem a little unstable." Omen continued.
"I've already checked up on Fade, and she is in great condition. You however..." Omen paused, 'looking' at your eyes intently.
"I came to check in on you. The hallway leading here was especially dark, and it felt heavy." Omen nods.
"Oh- No, I'm okay, Omen. It must be someone else's ability...?" You reason, although you were bad at lying.
"But you are the only one with shadow-related abilities in this hallway." Omen tilts his head. If Omen had a real, human face, you'd probably see a very unimpressed expression on it.
"Well, shit." You sigh.
"I am your mentor. You can tell me," Omen paused.
"Though I may not understand nor offer any help, I am here." Omen continued.
is it just me or Omen is so very OOC rn lol, you thought.
"...Come in." You sigh, sliding the door open wider, wide enough for Omen to come in.
"Thank you." Omen nods, walking in your room.
You slide the door shut and turn to Omen, who took a seat on your desk chair. You were comfortable enough around Omen, as he was your mentor and your very first friend in the VP.
"It feels even heavier here," Omen breaks the silence.
"I take it that your problem must be even heavier on you." Omen turns to you as you sat down on you bed.
"It's just like what I have told you in the past. Your emotions affect your abilities greatly," Omen nods, clasping his hands together.
"Take Neon or Reyna for example." Omen continued.
"To lift the heavy energy emanating from your abilities, you must let out your emotions; Talk to someone." Omen nods.
"Or like how Reyna does it: Take it out on others." Omen visibly sighed, but no sound of it comes.
"However, I know that you are better than that. So, let's discuss what you are feeling," Omen 'glanced' at you.
"I... I don't know if you'll understand, Omen. It's... about love." You sigh.
this is so cringe bruh who even says its about love bro, you thought.
"I do not expect myself to understand, either. I am not profound in the topic of love," Omen shook his head.
"But I will listen." Omen continued.
"Communication is key, either you tell them, or you tell me. Either works fine," Omen looked around your room
damn bro when did omen suddenly know about love and communication bro im cooked, you thought.
But confessing to Iso? Hell no. You're already hurt by the current situation, you'd be stupid to confess and expect a different outcome.
"It's... about Iso." You sigh, rubbing the back of your head in hesitation.
"The new recruit? I see," Omen nods.
"I've... been interested in him ever since he first arrived," You sigh, averting your gaze.
"I thought I was making progress; That if I pursue him and show him that I like him, he'd feel the same way." You murmur, eyes locked onto your fingers.
"He was starting to say things that might mean something more, in a more than friends way." You say, recalling the things that have happened a few hours earlier.
"It even went as far as him asking me to go out and get some food," You lower your head.
"But I was stupid. I got ahead of myself." Tears started welling in your eyes.
"I started assuming that he liked me back; That he felt the same way." You stifle back a sob.
"So, it was really painful when I heard him asking Sage out on a date," You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.
"It was my fault for assuming that he likes me too." You held your hands to your face.
"...I see." Omen nods quietly.
"You can't have everything you want," Omen starts.
"And it's not that easy." Omen shook his head.
"But you have to understand that maybe Sage and Iso have a lot more things in common that you and him," Omen explained.
"Or what maybe Iso likes Sage more, maybe he's had his eye on her since he came." Omen nods
You could feel your heart breaking, slowly shattering into pieces.
"But I'm not saying that to hurt you," Omen shook his head.
"I am opening your eyes to see the truth; To see that you're not the only one for Iso." Omen continued.
"You're not the only one who may have an interest on Iso," Omen shook his head, 'looking' at you.
"Not everyone wins, and you must learn how to accept that; That Iso likes Sage and not you." Omen's words sent a pang of pain in your through your heart.
not you. notyounotyounotyounotyounotyounot-
"The shadows are suffocating." Omen says, snapping you out of your trance.
"I'm sorry, Omen." You sigh.
"Acceptance. Learn to accept it." Omen looked at the closed curtains of your window.
Maybe this was for the best. If Iso wanted to be with Sage, who were you to oppose that? You're just a friend.
Everything was just a friendly gesture.
"I understand. I know better now," You took a deep breath.
"Thank you so much, Omen." You smile softly, drying your tears.
"Do you really know better now?" Omen asks.
"I do, thanks to you. I'm really grateful for that." You nod.
"It's good that you're still learning from my words." Omen nods, standing up from his seat.
"You're the best mentor I could ever ask for, Omen. I'm always learning from you." You smile at him, also standing up.
You walk with Omen to the door, sliding it open for him..
"I expect only the best from you. Don't let this weigh you down." Omen nods, walking out of your room.
You slid the door shut as Omen left your room.
Omen's right. Even if you thought that Omen was a little too out of character earlier, whatever he said was right.
You sigh and walk to your desk, before noticing a little purple octopus gun buddy on the chair that Omen said on.
Omen must've left it on accident. You took it into your hands and headed for the door to chase after Omen.
You slide the door open and wow. Reality and fate must really enjoy hardfucking you in every single angle, huh?
In front of the open door of your room, outside the hallway was Iso with a small smile on his face.
"There you are." Iso smiles, taking out one earbud off of his ear.
whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, you thought.
"Are you ready to go?" Iso asks.
go where? to heaven? yes im so fucking ready, you thought.
"Uh... huh?" You murmur.
"Did you forget? We're going out for hotpot, remember?" Iso chuckles.
"Oh, right," You avert your gaze.
I FUCKING FORGOT, you thought.
How were you gonna do this? You can't face Iso now.
"Is something wrong? You promised that we'd still go despite my injury," Iso tilts his head.
well shit it might be my fault for promising, you thought.
"I wanted to thank you for healing and saving me." Iso smiles, nodding.
"Right..." You nod hesitantly.
"So, are you ready?" Iso asked.
"Um, yeah." You step out of your room, sliding the door close behind you.
"Nice. Hm?" Iso smiles, then looks at your open palm.
"What's that?" Iso asks, gesturing to the octopus gun buddy.
"Oh... This is Omen's gun buddy. He must've forgotten about it and left it in my room." You show him the gun buddy.
"I was gonna return it to him, but maybe in another time." You shook your head, pocketing the gun buddy.
"Anyway, where are we headed?" You look at him.
"I know this hotpot place in the city. It's not that famous and crowded, so we can chill while eating," Iso smiles, pocketing his phone.
"I mean, we could just buy ingredients for hotpot and make it here, like what me and Sage did..." Iso paused.
Your ears rang. Sage again.
"But since it's gonna be about thanking you. I want it to be extra special." Iso smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.
Your heart started beating faster.
No. Remember what Omen said. Don't get ahead of yourself.
Your mind was blank, trying to block out any thought.
"There's a mall near the hotpot place. We could go there if you'd like." Iso smiles.
Why's he acting like he has so much time? Doesn't he have a date with Sage?
Shut up. That's none of your business.
"Let's head to the city." Iso smiles, nodding his head.
-
You and Iso arrive at the bustling streets of the city. You looked around, observing the food stalls. Some were colorful, some were simple and bland.
Maybe going out with Iso to the city isn't so bad. It could take your mind off of things.
"What kind of food do you like?" Iso asked, walking with you through the bustling street.
"I don't really mind anything, nothing specific." You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders.
"What about flowers?" Iso asked.
Why's he asking that?
"Well, I've never really received flowers, soo... I don't think I have anything I prefer in mind." You shook your head again.
"Do you like lilacs?" Iso asked, question after question.
"I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions." Iso smiles sheepishly.
"It's okay," You smile, shaking your head AGAIN. STOP SHAKING YOUR HEAD BRUH
This is just him getting to know you in a friendly way.
"Lilacs... I think lilacs are beautiful. Back in my college years, I used to research about lilacs." You hum.
"They have a lot of meaning to them. I think I'm confident that I love lilacs," You nod.
"Lilacs are related to your title, right?" You ask.
"Mm, yeah." Iso nods, his hands in his pockets.
"How about a dream date?" Iso asked.
"Huh? How'd it come to that all of a sudden?" You laugh.
It's getting difficult trying to ignore the thoughts.
"Sorry, was that too personal?" Iso chuckles.
"It's alright, no harm done." You smile.
"Before you answer, let's head to the hotpot place so we can get comfortable." Iso suggests.
"Good idea. Lead the way, then." You nod, trailing behind Iso.
-
Following Iso proved to be difficult in this lively street.
You lost Iso a couple of times. But thankfully, Iso was tall enough to so you could see his head above the others.
In one instance, you lost track of Iso and simply walked ahead. What startled you was the hand that suddenly grabbed your wrist.
"Hey, where are you going?" You turned and was met with Iso's lavender eyes with a worried expression on his face.
"Oh- Sorry! I lost you and I thought you were just walking ahead." You smile sheepishly.
"You can hold onto my arm so we don't lose each other." Iso offered his arm for you to hold onto.
There you go, you couldn't stop your face from flushing.
ohmygod im litereally about to bust bro someone call cleanup aisle my underwear cuz i have the niagra falls here with me, you thought.
You had to mentally reprimand yourself to stop getting ahead of yourself. Iso only offered it because you keep losing each other.
You nod hesitantly, holding onto his arm.
mygod he's so close to me dude im boutta bust the biggest nut ever, your mind raced, as well as your heart.
-
Holding onto Iso's arm surprisingly went well, and navigating through the crowd became easier.
Oddly enough, when you and Iso got away from the crowed, he didn't shake your arm off or move away.
It was more than enough to have you overthinking again.
POOKIE STOP THIS OHMYGOD DID YOU NOT LEARN FROM OMEN AT ALL, you mentally scolded yourself.
Okay, stop. Friends do this too, you know?
You and Iso arrived at the hotpot place that he talked about.
Iso went ahead, opening the door for you.
You smile, mouthing a small thank you and entering the restaurant.
While you checked out the place, Iso went to the receptionist for the table. The place looked to be a Chinese restaurant, with some Chinese writings on a red banner or paintings that you may or may not understand.
The tables and chairs looked to be made of red wood, with Chinese-style teapot and cups place in the middle of the table.
The atmosphere was calm and there were at least four groups of three in sight.
Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt a tap on your shoulder and see Iso with two menus on his hand.
"Hey, ready to take a seat?" Iso smiles at you, offering you the menu.
"Yeah," You nod, taking the menu.
You followed Iso to a table for two and sat down.
"So, about your dream date..." Iso paused.
"Oh, right. I don't really have a preference, but I think cafe dates or library dates are really good." You pondered for a moment.
"Dates that are peaceful and calm seems to slow down time, which means I get to appreciate and enjoy the date for longer." You smile at him.
"How about you? Do you have any preferences?" You ask.
"I like museum dates. The pictures I could get from it would look wonderful." Iso nods.
"Have you ever been on a date before?" You blurt out before you could stop yourself.
"Well... Today will be my first time." Iso smiles sheepishly.
Oh. His date with Sage.
Your ears started ringing again.
"We should order," Iso's voice snapped you out of your trance.
"Oh- Right. Sorry, I spaced out." You smile apologetically, looking through the menu with Iso.
-
Two hours had passed, it was now the afternoon. You and Iso walked around near the lake, talking and laughing, getting to know each other better.
Although you knew that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, it wasn't so bad.
"We should head back to HQ," Iso sighs, his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah, we should." You nod in response.
He still had a date with Sage, after all. Who were you to take up more of his time? Maybe he just wanted to go out with a friend before his date.
"I had a lot of fun." Iso looks at you, a small smile on his lips.
"Me too. I haven't been going out lately, so this was a nice change." You turn to him with a smile.
"I hope we'll do this again soon." Iso adds.
"I hope so too." You nod.
It made you sad that this was the closest as you can get to going on an actual date with Iso.
But that was okay.
-
You arrived back to HQ with Iso, seeing Sage seemingly waiting for Iso.
Your eyes met with Sage's as she smiled at you.
she must be really excited to go out with iso, you thought.
You said a simple and quick 'bye' to Iso before power-walking back to your room.
You hear Iso calling after you, which only fueled your tears as you ran away.
Here you were, crying from the start, and still crying in the end.
-
(A/N: wsg gaymers, what'd you guys think of my long ass updates lol, thanks for reading and supporting Why So Shy? and my other Iso works.)
Do you take smut requests? If yes maybe giving Iso a blowjob? 👀 I wanna choke on that dick ngl
What the hell guys I would never ever write smut what the fuck
(NSFW under the cut 🤤)
How did you even get here?
One second, you were teaching this newbie Agent the basics of proper spike defusal. He was pretty cute, his hands were shaking and everything, and when you'd hold him to stay steady, you felt like he'd just start shaking even more.
You could tell he wanted something from you. You could tell by the way he was breathing heavily, purposely messing up just so you can touch him some more. And when you do touch him, you could almost hear his small whimpers. Was this guy a manwhore or what?
This poor, poor guy. You thought that maybe he just needed some help, maybe you can take him into your room and "talk" to him or something.
Now, here you were, giving this poor man a great time. You didn't expect this guy to have the biggest dick you've seen in your entire lifetime.
Sure, you've never given head to anyone before, just seeing a couple pictures of dicks because horny fucks online love sending them, but this guy's cock was just too much.
His dick was practically standing proud and tall, his tip leaking copious amounts of precum. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that this is Niagara Falls.
This guy was a whimpering and moaning mess. He was begging you to touch him already, jerking his hips upwards.
"Chill out," you laugh, "You're leaking so much."
You poke the tip a few times, which led to more precum, and loud moans from Iso.
Goddamn this man was fine. Maybe you'd give in to your worldly desires just this once.
You slowly stroke his cock up and down, eliciting whimpers from him. Your fingers were stained with his sticky cum, but that didn't really stop you.
And apparently, it also didn't stop him from jerking his hips upwards and begging you to keep going.
So, you did. You took his tip into your mouth, tasting the slightly salty cum on your tongue. It was hard to take it all in, especially since his dick is like, a fucking horse cock idk, but his hip jerking made it all the more easier.
His moans filled the room, whimpering your name over and over, while his tip hit the back of your throat perfectly.
You were practically gagging, but hey, who doesn't wanna gag on and choke yourself with a huge cock?
Things didn't last long because Iso was very horny and a manwhore and ended up cumming all over inside your mouth.
You swallow his thick and sticky cum, before pulling away. God, this guy was still fucking hard? He's a manwhore confirmed.
-
(A/N: guys what the fuck ummmmm he's literally my husband and i just woke up and started writing smut bro like what. also, part three of why so shy is cumming soon (haha get it ahhahahaha I wrote this in 30 minutes come on i havent even woken up fully yet))
