PAIRING ― nagi seishiro x fem ! reader
SYNOPSIS ― nagi gets jealous that your isagi mii has a crush on you in tomodachi life, because he's that petty.
nagi seishiro didn’t hate tomodachi life. he actually thought it was kind of interesting, in the same way watching a car crash was interesting. everything on the island was unpredictable. one minute someone was crying because they dropped their sandwich, the next they were asking for a new outfit like nothing happened.
it was dumb, but it was entertaining enough that nagi didn’t mind sitting beside you on the couch while you played. he claimed he was only watching because he was too tired to play himself, but you knew better. he always looked like he didn’t care, but his eyes followed everything that happened on screen like it was a soccer match.
you had made miis of everyone you knew, including the blue lock boys, and now they all lived on your little island. nagi’s mii lived in an house right next to yours, mostly because you thought it was funny, and also because it felt wrong putting him anywhere else.
the two of you were sprawled on the couch together, you holding the console while nagi leaned back with his head against the cushion, hair messy, eyes half open. he looked like he could fall asleep at any moment, but the second your mii appeared on screen, he was suddenly awake.
your mii was walking around the plaza, wearing a cute outfit you picked earlier. it was nothing crazy, just a soft cardigan and skirt, but it looked adorable. nagi didn’t say anything, but he stared for a little longer than necessary.
then, as if the game was determined to ruin his peace, another mii entered the screen.
isagi yoichi.
your isagi mii walked up to your mii with that annoyingly cheerful bounce, waving like he had no shame. your mii waved back, smiling. nagi’s eyes narrowed slightly, like his body reacted before his brain did.
you didn’t notice at first, too busy checking the little icons on the bottom of the screen. "oh, isagi’s out again. he’s always wandering around."
nagi’s voice was flat. "he has too much energy."
you laughed. "you’re talking like it’s the real isagi."
"it might as well be," nagi muttered.
your mii and isagi’s mii started walking together. just casually strolling, like it was normal. like nagi wasn’t right there. nagi’s mii appeared a few seconds later, trailing behind them. the game probably did it randomly, but nagi didn’t like how it looked like he was following you.
his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. "why is he walking with you?"
you blinked. "because they’re friends?"
nagi didn’t respond. his expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle tension in his shoulders, like he was offended on a personal level.
then it happened.
isagi’s mii stopped walking.
his face turned pink.
a little blush appeared on his cheeks.
nagi sat up straighter so fast it was almost scary.
"…what...?" he murmured quietly.
you looked at him. "what?"
he pointed at the screen like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "he’s blushing."
you stared for a second, then burst out laughing. "oh my god, no way."
isagi’s mii turned toward your mii, bouncing nervously. sparkles popped around his head, and the game zoomed in dramatically like it was the biggest plot twist of the century.
then a speech bubble appeared.
isagi’s mii: i have something to tell you…
you gasped, delighted. "wait, is he about to confess?"
nagi’s eyes narrowed. "no."
"nagi, it’s cute!"
"it’s not cute."
the next bubble appeared.
isagi’s mii: i think i like you.
your mii did the surprised animation, hands to her cheeks. she looked flustered, which made the whole thing ten times worse. nagi stared like the screen had personally insulted him. then the game gave you the choices.
accept.
reject.
you leaned forward, eyes sparkling with amusement. "okay, wait. what do i do."
nagi answered immediately. "reject."
you laughed. "why are you answering so fast?"
"because it’s obvious."
you turned your head to look at him, grinning. "are you jealous of him?"
"no."
you raised an eyebrow. "you are."
he looked back at the screen. "i’m not."
"nagi, he just confessed and you’re acting like he killed me."
nagi’s thumb moved over the controller. he didn’t even wait for you to decide. he pressed reject.
your mii smiled apologetically. isagi’s mii froze, eyes widening. then he made the dramatic heartbreak face, the kind that looked like his entire world collapsed in a single second. he started shaking, tears forming, and then he ran off the screen.
you gasped like you were personally offended. "nagi!"
nagi leaned back like he just solved a problem. "good."
"good? you just destroyed him!"
"ehh he’ll survive."
you stared at him, then started laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth. "you’re insane. you’re literally insane."
nagi looked at you, expression blank. "he shouldn’t like you."
then your face heated up, and you shoved his shoulder lightly. "....you're so cringe, nagi."
he barely reacted, only blinking slowly. "what?"
you tried to act normal, but it was hard when your heart was doing 360 leaps. "you can’t just say stuff like that over a game."
nagi’s gaze stayed calm. "it’s not just the game."
you stared at him, then looked away quickly. "you’re embarrassing."
"you’re blushing," he said.
you immediately covered your face with the blanket. "shut up."
nagi didn’t laugh. he didn’t tease you further. he just leaned closer, resting his head lightly against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. his arm slid around your shoulders, lazy but secure, like he was claiming his spot.
you peeked out from the blanket. "okay, but you can’t reject everyone who likes my mii."
nagi’s voice was quiet. "i can."
you scoffed. "what if bachira confesses next?"
"reject."
"what if chigiri confesses?"
"reject."
you laughed again. "what if reo confesses?"
nagi sighed. "especially reject."
you were still giggling when another notification popped up on screen.
nagi wants to talk.
you blinked. "wait."
nagi’s eyes shifted toward the screen. "..."
you pressed the button, curious, and the scene changed to the plaza. your mii was standing there, and nagi’s mii walked up slowly, looking sleepy like always. then the dramatic zoom happened again.
you froze. "no way."
nagi’s mii: i have something to tell you…
your mouth fell open. "your mii is confessing!"
nagi didn’t react much, but his ears turned slightly pink. "obviously."
you stared at him. "obviously?"
nagi shrugged. "he’s me."
the next bubble appeared.
nagi’s mii: i think i like you.
your mii gasped, hands flying to her cheeks. sparkles filled the screen. it was so cheesy you almost wanted to scream, but it was also kind of adorable. then the choices appeared again.
accept.
reject.
you didn’t even hesitate. you pressed accept.
your mii started jumping up and down happily, and nagi’s mii smiled, just barely. a heart floated above them, and the little jingle played. you found yourself smiling at the screen like an idiot.
"aw," you whispered. "that’s so cute."
nagi’s voice was quiet. "yeah."
you turned to him, grin returning. "so you were jealous."
"i wasn’t jealous."
you laughed. "sure you weren’t. you were about to kill isagi."
nagi’s eyes shifted away. "he deserved it."
"for liking me?"
"for thinking he had a chance."
your face warmed again. "you’re so annoying."
nagi leaned his head closer, eyes half lidded. "you like me."
you hesitated, then muttered, "unfortunately."
nagi hummed like he was satisfied with that answer. "see?"
the game continued, your mii and nagi’s mii walking around together, holding hands in that stiff tomodachi life way. it looked ridiculous, but it also made your chest feel weirdly soft.
then another notification popped up.
isagi wants to talk.
you burst out laughing. "he’s back!'
nagi groaned. "can this loser get the hint?"
you hit his arm lightly. "stop it."
you clicked the notification, and the screen changed to isagi’s house. isagi’s mii stood there looking nervous, hands clasped. he glanced down like he was trying not to cry again.
isagi’s mii: i heard you and nagi are together…
your mii nodded.
isagi’s mii: i guess i was too late.
he looked genuinely heartbroken. you frowned a little, feeling guilty even though it was pixels.
"aw," you said softly.
nagi’s voice was immediate. "don’t."
you glanced at him. "don’t what?"
"don’t feel bad."
you pouted. "but he looks sad."
nagi leaned closer, voice lower. "he’ll get over it. he always does."
"you sound like you’ve been rejected before."
nagi blinked slowly. "i haven’t."
"sure."
he ignored you, eyes back on the screen, watching isagi’s mii walk away sadly. nagi’s expression stayed calm, but his arm tightened slightly around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
then he spoke again, quietly.
"if anyone’s going to be with you, it’s me."
you froze.
the words were so simple, said so casually, but they still hit you like a confession anyway. you stared at him, your face burning.
"nagi," you whispered, "it’s just tomodachi life."
he finally looked at you, eyes soft in that lazy way that always made your heart trip over itself.
"it’s not just tomodachi life," he said.
on the screen, your miis walked around the island together, heart icon floating above their heads like a victory sign. and nagi, still holding you like it was instinct, muttered one last thing.
"we should delete isagi off the island."
you laughed so hard you nearly dropped the console.
"nagi!"
"what? i’m tired of him." he whined, crossing his arms childishly.
you shook your head, still giggling, and leaned into his shoulder again.
"you’re so petty."
nagi’s arm stayed around you, warm and secure.
"yeah," he said, voice quiet and sleepy.
"but you’re still mine."
and honestly, even if it was just a silly little game, you couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered anyway.
because nagi seishiro was lazy.
but when it came to you, even his jealousy had effort.
Family Structure: Father, Mother, Older Sister, Self
Affiliated Team: Arsenal
Favorite Soccer Player: Patrick Vieira
Age Started Soccer: 2 years old
Motto: "Aptitude is destiny. Live your destiny. Then, life will shine."
Image Color (Favorite Color): Destiny Bordeaux Hobby: Self-reading. Reading a blank book with nothing written in it. While staring at it, you can dialogue with your current self and organize your thoughts.
Favorite Animal: Papillon (In France, both butterflies and moths are called "papillon.") Favorite Season: Winter. Because I like long sleeves.
What makes him happy: Having my ideas accepted. Now, why don't you try entrusting yourself to your destiny too?
What makes him sad: Abandoning one's aptitude. I don't think there is a future for a person who doesn't consider who they are.
Favorite Food: Eclairs. I like them because they test the pastry chef's skill. Chocolate eclairs are chocolate on chocolate, so the "aptitude" is a mismatch, but they re still delicious.
Disliked Food: Avocado. They are mushy and smell like raw greens; it feels like eating something that was already melted in a stomach and brought back up, so I hate them.
Favorite Movie: Life Is Beautiful
Favorite Manga: Cyborg 009 ("All that's left is courage!" I still don't know any words that can beat that line.)
୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : stepdaddy toji and his cute little stepdaughter both need a release so maybe they could help each other?
୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : smut, stepcest! - backshots, dumbification, daddy kink, p in v, cumming inside, no protection.
"t-toji!" you moan out, gripping onto his arms - your nails dragging into his skin as your face falls into the fluffy pillows. "tha- hah- ats it," the man behind you growls out, one of his calloused hands holding a tight, bruising grip onto your waist whilst the other one holds tight onto your gorgeous hair. pulling the strands back to make your body jerk back up so your back arches so beautifully.
Your gasps grow loud when he forces his cock into your tight little cunt, the thumping inside of your stomach grows as the small cog inside of you turns so deliciously whilst you feel yourself becoming undone on none other than your step-dad's long, thick dick.
You don't even know how this even happened, you two were watching a film - like you had done with him every weekend, but this time was different. you didn't know whether it was the small shorts you were wearing or if it was that toji had a few beers, maybe it was how fucking neglected you both were feeling? you hadnt had sex in months and him and your mother were only together for benefits. The only reason he even liked living there was you.
the way you looked up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, the slutty outfits you wear and the way you spoke to him so sweetly and innocently. as if you didn't know what you were doing to him. stupid little girl.
claws attack tojis arms as you whine out loudly, his cock hitting your small walls over and over. white liquids cover the tip of his cock as your orgasm overtakes you, gripping harshly onto his and slight blood drawing from how rough your nails dug into him. "f-fuck!" he groans out, pounding into you. "tha's it, cmon baby g-girl," he groans into your ear, grabbing your hair and lifting you up so you were impaled onto his cock. his thick length going deeper inside of your pussy - you didn't even know it could get further in.
your mind going fuzzy after that, you could feel his dick soo deep - peeking down at where the shape of his cock pops out from your skin. it could create an imprint. watching his cock bounce inside of you, going in and out, in and out. toji presses a small peck on your neck as he grabs your arms, pulling them back so he could get into a more comfortable position. your legs grew tired and flopped down, your cunt and womb felt - and was - full. you were roughly placed onto your step daddys big fat cock and all you could do was take it. your brain was too fucked out to move or do anything!!
"h-hahh-" you mewl out, the relentless pounding inside of you gets faster as tojis climax comes fast. your stepdaddy groaned into your ear and gasped, "s-so fuckin' tight, p-princess!" eyes squeezing together while his hands trail down onto your waist, arms flapped down without his strong grip on them, his rough hands held tightly on your waist and forcibly bouncing you up and down on his cock. in and out, in and out. over and over. it was repetitive and you couldn't catch your breath with the relentless pace. "da- hahhh- daddyy!"you moan out, on the brink of yet another orgasm. just as you were about the cum, the twist deep inside of you turns straight, he stops. "wha'did you say?" he questions.
blush fills your cheeks and you stutter, unable to get out another word, tojis lifts you up high and slams you back onto his cock, deeper and rougher than you could even imagine. you mewl out and your eyebrows knit together as you start to orgasm. "naughty f-fuckin' girl, l-love your- fuck!- daddys cock, dont'cha?" growling through his words, slamming you on his dick. you whine and cum drops from your cunt, creating a ring of white liquid around his cock.
Just as you finish, he slows the pace down, but gets rougher. "So close, baby- hah-" toji moans and shoves you deeper on his cock, right at the bottom, filling every nook and cranny inside of you. as soon as you hit the bottom of his length, he cums. his orgasmic groan whilst he spurts hot cum deep inside of your tight cunt. you clench around him and his fingers dig into your waist. you couldn't even think as he pulls out, cum still dripping from your hole and he shoves you back onto the mattress. "fucckkkkkk" he scoffs, looking down at the mess you and him had created, you almost passed out on your bed and cum pouring from your pussy.
who would've known his step-daughter would be such a slut?
Why does nobody write for Alexis Ness😭. And when they do they always have to include bitch ass Kaiser. I don’t want a whore( Kaiser) and a cute, amazing, lovely, wonderful, sweet, handsome, kind, loving, and beautiful smart boy (Ness) in the same fic. And AO3 has the same problem if you search “Alexis Ness x Fem Reader” there’s like 3 fics max and most just include that slut (Kaiser). But anyways Rozz out.
chat I was lowkey wrong becuase so many more fics and head canons have came out. I’m I delusional for thinking I helped?! 😳 Thanks to everyone who writes for Ness. Rozz out
Why does nobody write for Alexis Ness😭. And when they do they always have to include bitch ass Kaiser. I don’t want a whore( Kaiser) and a cute, amazing, lovely, wonderful, sweet, handsome, kind, loving, and beautiful smart boy (Ness) in the same fic. And AO3 has the same problem if you search “Alexis Ness x Fem Reader” there’s like 3 fics max and most just include that slut (Kaiser). But anyways Rozz out.
— a blue lock fanfic // when ness needed some reassurance, you were there for him. now he needs to make sure he's there for you. always.
synopsis: working as an escort, you encounter a sad looking man one fateful night. what starts as making easy money soon turns into something much different.
pairing: afab!reader x stalker!ness [aged up.]
wc:
tw: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. STORY CONTAINS DARK THEMES LIKE STALKING, TOXIC CO-DEPENDENCY, YANDERE BEHAVIOR. READ ON YOUR OWN RISK. CONTAINS SMUT.
nsfw includes: stalker!ness. dubcon. manipulative behaviour. STALKING. touch starvation. orgasms [both male and female]. obsessive behaviour.
m.list
"hey, a sad looking man is here. wanna take him?" your manager asked you, looking at you through your reflection in the mirror. her tamed hair was packed into a neat bun and she was adorned in a black blazer.
"huh?" you groaned at her request, "do i need to take him? i just finished up. i'm so tired-ugh!" the syllables mixed together as you slumped back in your chair.
the vanity was lit up with lightbulbs as it shone down on your figure. the show glitter shimmered against your skin, your hair was tousled in loose curls, and your makeup was still caked onto your skin. on your desk was a bag you were preparing for your commute back home.
a few other girls got ready on their respective counters while others chattered amongst themselves, recounting idiotic men and their even-so-more idiotic anecdotes. laughter mingled with the slow, steady rhythm of music that had managed to seep in from the main lounge into your common dressing area.
your manager crossed her arms, giving you another chance, "are ya sure? i mean i can ask jessica or carrie but he looks real sad, and i know you love those men. they bring in easy money."
"okay." you set your packed bag down, giving her a pointed look, "what kind of sad? creepy sad or pathetic type?"
your manager bored you down in return, "if it were the creepy type, i wouldn't be offering you the job."
"fine." you gave her a resigned sigh, "how sad?"
"sad enough to throw in a biiiig cheque."
you met her eyes in the mirror, thinking about the offer once over before nodding, "alright. give me five minutes. which room?"
"205." the older woman gave you a small smile, "you'd be there, right?"
"yeah, yeah." you shrugged her off, "i'll be right there. not gonna run away. don't worry."
🎀─────♡
meet 01: are humans replaceable?
you took in a deep breath, shifting your body weight from one feet to another as you stood at the door. no matter how many clients you entertained, the first meeting was always nerve-wrecking. what if he was insane? or worse... obsessed with you?
you shrugged off the chills, twisting the door knob and slipping in.
when inside the sensual, lightly-dimmed room, your eyes made sense of a young man sitting on the loveseat. his face was tilted downwards, messy purplish locks obscuring his eyes and most of his face from your vision.
weird. most of the men who pay for a private room would've jumped your bones till now, if not atleast look at you. but this man... he was too mesmerized mapping out the glittery, geometric pattern of the floors to really notice your presence.
but... you knew better than anyone that these men weren't as simple as they looked. the more inconspicuous they behaved, the worse their desires were. so, you steadied your breath, put on a smile and you cleared your throat softly, locking the door behind you, "hey?"
the man looked up suddenly, as if your presence had jolted him out of his thoughts. his brown eyes met yours and you noticed the man shudder, "h-hey."
"my name's honey." you knew better than to give away your real name. deepening your smile, you allowed yourself to create a false illusion for your client. "i'll be your entertainer for tonight. what's your name?"
the man scooted a few inches backwards on the loveseat as you inched forwards toward him. but no matter what he tried, he couldn't quite escape you as his back was finally against the cushions. his bottom lip trembled as he looked up at you, "n-ness... alexis ness."
"that's a cute name, ness." you stopped yourself half a meter short from the loveseat. eyeing his frail face, you wondered aloud, "do you mind if i sit next to you?"
he shook his head softly, scooting sideways to the extreme end of the loveseat and practically offering you the rest. you sat down on the leathered surface, maintaining your distance at his discomfort.
"so..." you started off slowly, "what can i do for you, ness? do you wanna me dance or... undress—?"
his eyes widened, reddened face looking away from yours in a hurry, "n-no! it's okay."
your brows furrowed, arms crossing against your chest to push the fat upwards and perhaps, tempt the young man. you questioned him again, "do you just want to sit?"
he nodded, "yes, please."
and so, that's what you did. in your silence, you wondered why the man was here. these private rooms were expensive, definitely not the kind that some part-timing early twenties man could afford. was he rich? maybe it was generational wealth? or, perhaps he won a lottery and his first pitstop was to hire a prostitute for fun?
but then, the way he was reacting to you — one would wonder if someone else had forced him to be here. perhaps, his friends? or someone else to take a piss out of him?
you didn't usually care for personal sob-stories or background, but you felt bad for this man. from your periphery, you noticed the man twiddling his thumb, still staring at the glittery flooring.
oh, fuck personal principles, i guess?
"is something bothering you?" you asked softly, "i mean we do have an hour together... and i can see you don't want me to do what i-" you laughed, "like what i usually do."
"i-uh..." the man stalled, "i'm sorry."
"what? why're you sorry? i'm getting paid to chat to some stranger for an hour. it's my lucky day~!" at your joke, a small smile tugged at ness' lips, "right..."
"if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. we can sit in total silence either. i don't mind—"
"c-can i ask you something?"
the man's voice was so soft that it almost got lost by the time it reached you. you took a second, easily complying at the mindless request, "yeah, sure."
"do you think humans are..." his bated breath came out in a shiver,
"replaceable?"
you hummed, quickly assessing that the man was going through some sort of post-breakup ritual or something. usually, people didn't come to talk to you about philosophical questions — atleast with not your tits still in your flimsy bra.
finally, you uttered, "well, in the grand scheme of things — yes." a small wince from his side rung in your ear but you continued, "i mean there are 8 billion of us here. we are... replaceable. but i think the question isn't if people are replaceable, it's whether people you love are replaceable... and the answer to that is no."
"no?" he echoed back, much like a child learning something for the first time.
"no." you nodded, "if you love someone, sure it could not work out. they could die, or there could be a falling out or whatever... but to claim that someone you once loved is now replaceable, that's just untrue. they will always have some place in your life. they can't just be erased. i wish they could, god knows i've tried."
there was a strange lilt to his voice, "you've loved people before?"
you drew a brow at his question, "hasn't everyone?"
"yeah..." the silence followed by confirmed your suspicions. definitely going through some sort of a breakup.
the man finally turned his face towards you, although his words were just as frail, "what you're saying is that you wouldn't... you wouldn't replace somebody you loved?"
you laughed at his question, "fuck no. if i love someone then i love them. that's it."
and for the first time that night, ness cracked open a smile, "okay."
for the rest of the forty-five minutes, you two sat in silence... weirdly with the man still smiling to himself till the very end. well, you had nothing to complain about. he had left a hefty tip at the end. what more could a girl ask for?
🎀─────♡
meet 02: do you have a boyfriend?
exactly a week later, your manager came back to your vanity. it was the exact same day of the week — another thursday. exact same hour — at nine at night. she gave you a look, "the sad man's back."
you raised a brow, turning your face to look at her, "the one from last week?"
"uh-huh." she smiled, "he asked specially for honey."
you frowned at the man's request, "but i have a booked bachelor's party right now."
"not anymore," your manager shrugged, "saddie's willing to pay twice the amount to see you. good job, honey." she smiled, "you got him wrapped 'round your finger in just one meeting?"
"i-" you smiled right back, "maybe i did."
"205. he's waiting."
and so, you twisted the doorknob again, only to find the man sitting at his usual seat towards the very edge of the loveseat. this time though, he met your eyes right on and even muttered, "hey."
"hey." you beamed at him as you closed the door, "my manager said you specifically asked for me. like me that much, huh?"
and you meant it as a joke. you even said it as a joke. but from the tip of his nose to the tip of his ears, he was tainted red at the sudden statement. he spluttered out meekly, "y-yes."
you sat down at your usual position too, keeping a safe distance away from him. "awh, you're adorable."
he blushed again, stealing his gaze away from you to stare at the floor again. you cooed, "do you wanna do something today, or just wanna talk?"
"uh... i had another question." you nodded, "sure. what's up?"
"do you have a boyfriend?"
your eyes widened. oh no. not this question. this was usually the question they asked when they wanted to see you outside of work... and seeing men outside of work was dangerous. you gulped quickly, acting on your thoughts even quicker, "yeah. we've been together three years."
"oh?" ness looked akin to a kicked puppy. "three years?"
that was a lie. there was no one in your life. absolutely no one. but this answer usually kept the men off of you. so, you nodded along the lie, "yeah. he's the absolute sweetest. he's really supportive of my job too—!"
and maybe you imagined it but you noticed anger mold itself in his irises. he fisted his hand, "oh?"
"yeah." you tried to maintain a cheerful expression, "why do you ask?"
"oh... no reason." he gave you a compliant smile, "was just going through a break-up, so, got... curious."
"it's okay, ness." you said his name so sweetly. so, so sweetly. how could ness ever let someone else be the reason you didn't call his name in that honey-tone of yours?
🎀─────♡
meet 03: here... all alone?
the next thursday, ness didn't show up. you couldn't help but feel his absence — or rather, the absence of cash that he gave you. from the past two weeks, the increment in your tips was highly rewarding. you had finally brought yourself a pair of shoes that you had been dying to buy. and now, you had hoped that with the next bout of tip, you'd buy a new purse that you had been eyeing.
but then, he never showed.
although dejected, you had made your peace with it within a few hours. from your last conversation, you had concluded that the man had probably taken your fake boyfriend story to heart and gotten heartbroken. well, whatever. he was just a client. a rich one, but a client nonetheless.
on saturday, you were off work. you had woken up late and to save a half-ruined day, decided to take yourself to grocery shopping. now, gliding through the produce aisle of the grocery store, you bumped into someone.
"okay. tofu, onions, bell pepper— ouch." you looked up at the sudden contact, your eyes tangling against familiar, kind set of eyes. your lips parted in shock, "n-ness?"
"hey." he smiled down at you kindly, "didn't expect to see you here."
you blinked up at him, once, twice, before regaining cognitive abilities. you laughed it off, "yeah- oh my god, me either. what're you doing here?"
"i live nearby." you scrunched your features at his answer, "you do?"
now, you didn't live in a bad part of town but... it was definitely not the wealthiest. most people around lived paycheck to paycheck and you didn't expect someone as affluent — for a lack of better word — as ness to be living nearby.
he gave you a soft smile, "what're you doing here... all alone? your boyfriend didn't come to help you shop?"
right. the boyfriend. you shrugged, expertly crafting a lie at the tip of your tongue, "oh he's really tired from work. i thought i'd surprise with some homemade food, y'know? trying to be a good girlfriend."
"i see. he's very lucky." ness peered into your cart, eyeing the ingredients, "but uh, those don't look like they'd be enough to fill the stomachs of two people."
"oh..." you laughed, your frenzied gaze quickly scanning over the single-serving proportions of your groceries, "well, i'd be ordering something in too. cannot cook too much cause i'm kinda lazy."
"if you were my girlfriend, i would do the cooking." ness muttered softly and you laughed to make the situation less awkward, "i mean... my boyfriend does help around the house. he's just tired today."
"i get it."
there was an unsteady beat between you two, one in which both you and him could do nothing but stare at each-other. at his strangling gaze, you felt a shiver start at the base of your neck and run down your spine in an electric jolt.
"okayyyy, then." you dragged the syllables, trying to finish up the conversation.
"well, it was nice bumping into you." ness gave you a final smile, "say hello to your boyfriend for me."
"of course!" you turned away quick, trying to hide your faltering expression, "see ya!"
you shopped quick, trying to avoid ness and to get out as soon as possible. even as you checked out your groceries at the self check-out, you couldn't help but feel someone's gaze boring holes into your back. the same, eerie feeling continued till you reached the gate of your apartment. god. what was up with that?
🎀─────♡
meet 04: praise me.
"hey." your manager called you as the clock struck nine on the next thursday, "the sad man's back."
"he is?" you mumbled to yourself, surprised at his sudden appearance. you had gone to the grocery store once more since your last visit but thankfully, hadn't come across alexis ness again. you had accepted your fate, chalking up that meet-up to a strange coincidence that had happened. but now... he was back again?
a nasty feeling churned in your gut and your manager took notice of it, "are ya okay? you seem outta it."
"uh..." you stalled, "yeah. i'm fine."
"is he bothering you?" she quirked up an eyebrow, "did he do something?"
he wasn't bothering you. he wasn't. he hadn't even done something weird. both of those statements was untrue. you were just on edge for some reason, and alexis ness couldn't have been possibly the source of it. maybe... you were just acting paranoid. yeah, that was probably it. probably.
you swallowed down the bile rising to your throat and nodded, "yeah, don't worry. 205, right?"
"hm. 205." your manager commanded easily and you nodded, "yeah, be right there."
this time around, when you twisted the doorknob to open the door — you found the man sitting up straighter. his posture was well, gaze intently locked onto your figure as soon as you walked in through the gate.
"hey, ness..." you gave him a polite smile, motivated by nothing but the thought of the money you'd make at the end of this hour.
"hey... uh, come sit." and this time, he didn't scoot to the extreme.
you sat down on your position, maintaining a small distance between you two. smiling kindly, you asked, "so, what do you want to talk about today—?"
"not that." he interrupted you, a greedy look flickering in his usual kind, brown eyes. he licked his lips, "i-i wanted something else."
you face bunched, "like?"
"i want you to..." he paused and your heart hammered in your chest, afraid of what the next few syllables will be. he drew in a short breath, trembling at the fate of his own words, "praise me."
"praise you?" you echoed back, part-confused and part-relieved. of course, this wasn't the strangest of request you had ever received. it was tame.
his features grew unsure, "uh, that's okay right?"
"yeah. yeah." you gave him a curt nod, "how exactly do you wish for me to praise you?"
"just uh-" his trembling hands slowly moved to his lap, his voice already breathy, "just anything. give me anything, beautiful."
your eyes widened at his statement, not because it was absurd but because it was coming from ness — shy ness, can't-even-hold-eye-contact ness. now, his rough palm was ghosting over the bulge in his jeans.
"okay." you swallowed, "do you want me to do anything else? undress or do you want my hand instead of yours—?"
"no. no." he sounded somewhat horrified at your proposal of giving him a handjob. his voice was short as he babbled, "no. if you touch me- if i touch you— no. no. just... just start."
"okay." your voice turned sweeter, the words flowing like heavenly streams of water through his ears, "you're doing so good, ness."
his breath quickened, eyes fluttering shut as your nectar-like syllables rung in his ears, "do it just like that, yeah. touch yourself. does it feel good?"
his lips parted softly, "y-yes."
"don't you want to feel yourself properly, baby? you can take off those jeans." but he shook his head, "no..."
"just like this, then?" you cooed, "that's alright. whatever my pretty boy wants, he gets."
"whatever i want?" he echoed back, never opening his eyes. you nodded, still cooing, "whateverrr he wants."
"i... i want you."
seeing his statement as nothing but dirty talk, you played along, "you want me? you already have me, baby." you leaned in closer to him, "right here."
the man shuddered at the sudden closness. his eyes were still clenched shut and the apples of his cheek were tainted red as you kept babbling. "you're so pretty, ness. i wish you could see yourself right now — face red, hands trembling... you're so, so pretty as you please yourself to my voice."
"hahh- f-fuck." his hip bucked upwards as he tried to gain more friction even with the layers of denim separation. he swallowed down the curses on the tip of his tongue, "tell me- tell me you love me."
your character broke, "w-what?"
his eyes opened wide, irises trained directly at you, "tell me you love me."
"i-" you tried to twist the words, "i love the way you're doing it—"
"no." he was stern, "say 'i love you.'"
taken aback by the sudden intensity, you had no choice but to utter, "i... love you, ness."
with a soft hiss and violent jerk of his pelvis, he came undone within the next few seconds. his body coughed up a shiver and you noticed a wet patch growing on the fabric of his jeans.
"you came?" you asked innocently as if you hadn't caused this and ness nodded, "yeah. i- uh, you can go now."
"already? we still have about forty-five minutes left."
he averted his eyes from you, reverting back to the same shy man that you had met for the first time. "i heard all i wanted to. if- if i go further, i'd regret it."
regret it? what did he mean?
you had taken your leave, just about to slip through the door when ness called out to your meekly, "d-does your boyfriend like it when you praise him?"
"uh..." you stared at the man, taken aback with his sudden obssession with your pretend-boyfriend, "he's not the praise type of guy, y'know?"
"he's really missing out then, isn't he?" he gave you a small smile and you nodded quickly, trying to leave the room.
what was his deal?
🎀─────♡
meet 05: spread wiiide open.
by the next thursday, ness was back to his regular schedule. showing up at nine in the night, you were already prepared to get summoned to 205.
this time too, he looked at you when you entered. if anything, this time... something had shifted in his demeanor. it seemed like he was staring at you, refusing to look away from anything and everything at all. his eyes scanned your beautiful face, coming down to your barely-covered tits and the sway of your hips as you walked.
once you approached the loveseat, ness stood up. you gave him a pointed look, "what's wrong, ness?"
"n-nothing." he bit his trembling bottom lip, "you can sit down."
"okay?" you sat yourself down. peering up at the man, you gave him your best doe-eyes, "you don't wanna sit?"
"no." he swallowed quickly, his adam's apple bobbing up and down. staring at your face, he muttered, "i'm gonna ask you something."
"yeah, sure."
"spread your legs for me." he whimpered at his own statement, "please."
following his request, you parted your thighs. the pair of lingerie bottoms that you had on were beautiful, lacey, enticing. knowing how the request usually went, your fingers flew to the waistband, ready to take it off. but ness' voice pitched up, "n-no! don't take it off."
quizzical, you asked, "what then...?"
"just..." he kneeled in front of you, lodging himself in the space between your parted thighs while still maintaining a safe distance from your fabric-clad cunt. he licked his lips, his eyes focused on your core and his voice wobbled, "t-touch yourself."
"through my underwear...?"
"yeah." he breathed out, "don't take it off. i don't know what i'd...do if i see you fully."
although perturbed by his request, you decided to comply with the man on his knees. bringing two experienced fingers to your hot core, you touched your sensitive nub through the little fabric. at your pressing and prodding, a small wet patch formed on the soft cloth.
ness groaned at the sight, one palm of his being used to press down on his clothed bulge. he didn't take off his eyes from your cunt, whispering, "keep going."
you circled your clit, using the buildup of honeyed slick to glide the fabric against yourself. biting down a moan, you continued the rapid motions and ness' flickered up his gaze to your flushed face, "make noises."
your lips parted, eyes meeting his as your back arched, "nghh— fuck."
"no." he leaned forward slightly and you swear you found his eyes roll back at the erotic smell. he repeated himself, still intoxicated by you, "no. say my name... moan my name."
your fingers crawled to a halt, your mind still processing his intimate request when ness spoke up again, "don't stop. please."
you quickened the pace of your doughy fingertips, rubbing the fabric against the fluttering bundle of nerves as alexis ness' name overtook the tip of your tongue, "oh-ohmygod... n-ness."
"yeah," he groaned, pressing down and palming his bulge in return. there was not one inch of contact between you two, nothing but a strange agreement you two had found yourself in. the pit of your stomach felt like an abyss, your own delicate fingers bringing yourself to your demise.
and as a tremor built up in your thighs, you choked out a sickly, sweet moan, "'m gonna- fuuuck, i'm gonna cum, ness."
"yeah?" his eyes glossed over at your admission, "you're... close?"
you nodded feverishly, not stopping the slimy motions of your fingers against your swollen, clothed clit. you managed out, "y-yeah..."
he swallowed, "you're gonna... cum in front of me?" you nodded again and the man hissed, palming himself harder, "'m close too."
and as your back arched and your pretty lips trembled out a sigh, ness groaned too. his head was thrown back, eyes watery from your heavenly sight. he choked out, "t-thanks."
you had barely recovered from the orgasm when ness stood up, his limbs shook and a similar wet patch was adorning the clothes 'round his nether regions. he sighed out, "y-you can go."
as always, alexis ness tipped you heavily and then, you left room no. 205.
🎀─────♡
meet 06: knock, knock.
"i mean i don't know, maybe it's my conscience." you muttered as your coworker squeezed down on your arm, both re-assuring you and stabilizing you as you two walked down the streets to reach the subway.
she reprimanded you, "no! a woman's intuition is almost always right. if you feel like someone's watching you, you should be careful."
"maybe..." you answered back and the girl walking next to you asked, "is there anyone from work that's following you? some man?"
a certain purple-haired man came to thoughts but you shook your head no because you had never actually seen anybody follow you. on many occasions while walking, you had whipped your head back only to be met by stark absence of anyone. you had started to convince yourself that it were in your head. that thought was even more terrifying.
"it's okay. you know, i live nearby." your work-friend went on, "if you feel like something's weird, call me and i'd try to be there as soon as possible."
you gave her a tight-lipped smile, "thanks."
two hours later, you were in the shower. the hot water washed over the ache and stress from your muscles and you sighed as you lathered shampoo onto your head. humming a random tune, you washed down the soap suds under the steady stream of water and watched them disappear down the drain.
once done, you continued humming the same tune as you wrapped the towel around your body. stepping out of the shower, your footing fell gently on the wooden floors as you walked to the bedroom. the bottoms of your feet left small imprints of water in their wake behind you.
standing in front of your dresser, you sifted through the neat rows of clothes to find something comfy to slip into, but as you pulled out a tshirt, a chill transversed through your spinal cord... and then, your phone started ringing.
you turned around at the abrupt ringing, staring at the electronic device as an unknown number flashed in your phone.
clutching your towel to your chest, you leaned forward to pick it up. your voice waivered slightly, "h-hello? who is this?"
"hey." a familiar, soft voice reached you through the speaker. your heart hammered in your chest, sweat beading at your hairline at the familiarity. "n-ness?"
"oh," he whispered softly, as if in utter bliss. "you recognize... me?"
the blood roared in your ears, your heart thumping stronger and stronger against your ribs as you replied carefully, "wh-where did you get my number from?"
"ofcourse i had it."
but he shouldn't have. giving out personal information like real name, or number, or address was forbidden. your workplace couldn't legally give that sensitive information, and you knew for a fact that you never gave him your number yourself.
"oh, no. don't worry." he cooed, "your workplace didn't give me your number. i found it... all by myself."
there was this slight lilt to his voice... something akin to victory. your skin crawled at how happy he sounded at his admission, your throat closed up as you choked out, "what do you want from me?"
"oh nothing..." he called out your name and your heart dropped to your stomach, "wh-what the fuck?! what did you j-just say?"
"oh..." he quietened, "don't stumble like that, you might have a heart attack." he paused, soaking in his own words, "well, if you did... i suppose i could always take you to the hospital right away. that's what you do with loved ones, right?"
what the fuck did he mean?
"are you..." your mouth felt dry, dry like it had been devoid of water for three long summers. you tried swallowing but all in vain. "are you nearby?"
"i'm way nearer than you can imagine."
your head whipped up, looking around your bedroom as if he would just be standing there. you whimpered, clutching your towel tighter against your body, "w-what... what do you want?!"
"open the door." he called your name again and your frenzied gaze ran to the wooden bedroom door. you traced the woodwork slowly, and noticed a blocky shadow at the base. your head spun, your weak knees almost giving out as he continued, "i would open it myself but i want you to let me in with your permission."
y-your permission? he was in your house, and now he wanted your fucking permission?!
you inched closer to the door, your wobbling limbs barely supporting your half-clothed figure. with shaking fingers, you reached for the lock, trying to lock him out and calling for the cops. though sweat broke over each inch of your formerly-clean skin, you managed, "i-my boyfriend... he'd come any second now. l-leave... leave while you can."
but ness was quicker, "oh, your boyfriend? that guy that doesn't exist?"
your jaw sagged open, "n-no... he's coming- he is." you chanted, "he is, he is- believe me."
"don't lie to me." his voice sound like it was being accompanied by a smile, "if there was another man in your life... he'd be long gone by now. i'd make sure of it."
a beat, then, "open the door."
your eyes darted between the knob and the lock.
"don't lock it." his usually timid voice was so, so loud in your ear. your hands shook, tears burning at the edge of your lash-line as he continued, "i can always just break it down. be a good girl and open it for me..."
"p-please go... away." you whimpered again, your hand frozen in air, still hovering over the lock. ness' voice was innocent, "but i love you."
"i-" he cut your wobbling words off, "you said you love me too, right?"
you parted your lips but no voice came out. ness' voice filled in the nightmarish silence, "open the door. c'mon."
weighing your lack of options against the weight of the man standing just outside your bedroom door, you inched your hand closer to the door knob. the met underneath your skin felt molten hot, charring your skin as you twisted it open.
your quick steps fell backwards, trying to distance yourself from the door as quickly as possible. the door creaked open inch after inch after inch and finally he came into view.
you rushed behind your bed as if that would help against the man in front of you. he gave you a polite smile, stepping through the doorstep, "you have a beautiful house."
"n-ness..." you barely managed out, not sure if you were begging for mercy, repentance or his absence.
"when you say my name like that..." he trailed off as he took languid steps forward. you held up a plam, backing yourself till there was no place other than the cold wall against your back. your frenzied gaze met his, "w-what do you want?"
"you." he stepped closer, meeting your eyes, "you told me, remember? whatever i want, i get. i'm your pretty boy, right?"
"i was doing my job—"
he brought a swift hand to your face, squishing your cheeks together and hissing at the contact, "don't lie. it was more than that."
your eyes watered, words lodged into your voice box like they were daggers. you couldn't speak. even if you could, what would you possibly say?
"oh..." ness hummed, "where's your little boyfriend, now?"
tears pooled at the edge, falling down in fat droplets down your face, "p-please."
he leaned forward, his thumb immediately catching the tear. his features molded into confusion, "why're you crying? you love me, right?"
he repeated, something corrupt in his once-kind smile as he leaned in close. his lips ghosted over yours, "right? and you'd never... ever replace me. never."
a/n: this is NOT normal, do NOT try to replicate this in real life. NOT PROOFREAD.
m.list
a/n: thinking about little boys who think you’re so pretty and have no concept of respecting a boyfriend’s boundaries so he hits on you out of plain innocence and it pisses your boyfriend off
you’re both waiting in line for ice cream when you feel a little tap on your leg.
you look down and there’s this tiny boy with giant eyes staring up at you like he just discovered divinity.
“um… i got this for you,” he says, offering you a dandelion he probably ripped from the concrete outside.
you melt. “aww, thank you!”
isagi, behind you, internally short-circuits.
he’s literally frozen. stuck between that’s adorable and i am losing my woman to someone who can’t even tie his own shoes.
the kid then goes, “you smell really nice. like flowers.”
you’re smiling, giggling, glowing.
isagi is drowning.
he tries to play it cool, placing a hand on your waist – very much a subtle “mine” gesture.
the child does not care. he is unstoppable.
“do you wanna sit next to me? my mom said i can share my sprinkles with someone i like.”
isagi’s going mad internally like bro, please, i beg–
when you say, “that’s so sweet!!” isagi’s eyebrow twitches. HE CAN SHARE SPRINKLES TOO WHY IS NO ONE ASKING HIM.
ice cream arrives and you insist on giving the kid a thumbs up. isagi gives him a thumbs up too, but it is not friendly.
it’s that “i’m watching you, twink” look.
after the kid walks away, isagi sulks for a whole minute. “you know… adults can give you flowers, too.”
you laugh and kiss his cheek. he brightens instantly.
he will now be bringing you flowers every week because he refuses to lose to a first grader.
itoshi rin
y’all are in a bookstore. rin is in his element, browsing quietly while you flip through a journal with flowers on the cover.
suddenly a tiny boy steps in front of you like he’s about to propose.
“i like your hair,” he says, dead serious. “it’s really pretty.”
rin’s head snaps up so fast he might’ve pulled something.
the boy continues: “you smell good too, like cookies.”
you’re trying so hard not to giggle.
rin is staring at this 3-apple tall threat like, there is no way this is happening.
he literally steps closer, resting a hand on your lower back – subtle, but very move along, kid energy.
“do you wanna read with me?” the boy asks, holding up a random dinosaur book.
RIN HAS NEVER HATED DINOSAURS MORE.
you tell the boy kindly that you’re with your boyfriend, and rin expects the kid to back off. but no.
“he can come, too. i don’t mind sharing.”
rin’s jaw drops.
bro is two seconds from lecturing a child about boundaries.
instead he scoffs and mutters, “unbelievable.”
the boy eventually waddles back to his mom, waving at you.
you wave back.
rin does not wave.
later, rin quietly slips the flower-covered journal into your hands.
“here,” he mumbles. “since you like pretty things.”
he is reclaiming his boyfriend title immediately.
itoshi sae
you’re walking through a fancy shopping district. sae is holding your hand, sunglasses on, looking like he’s ready to spend money just to get rid of inconvenience.
then… the moment: a tiny boy runs up to you with a mini chocolate he clearly begged his mom for.
“you can have this! because you’re really pretty!”
you accept it with a soft smile. sae stops walking.
he looks at the boy. then at you. then at the chocolate.
¿perdón?
“thank you,” you tell the kid.
the kid beams. “i can buy you more chocolate when i grow up!”
sae is immediate like ………… no.
he puts an arm around your waist, leaning in to murmur, “you’re encouraging him.” his voice is flat, but you can hear the irritation simmering.
the boy then tries to hold the door open for you when you enter a store.
sae also tries to hold the door open.
you walk through the middle while your boyfriend and a six-year-old compete like it’s the olympics.
the little boy says, “my dad says i should treat pretty girls special.”
sae’s eye twitches.
you thank the boy again and his mom finally drags him away.
sae immediately mutters, “he’s too bold for someone who can’t even reach the counter.”
as you browse, he buys you a box of expensive chocolates and places it in your hands.
“don’t eat the one he gave you. eat these. they’re better.”
you laugh, “are you jealous of a kid?”
“i’m annoyed,” he corrects. “there’s a difference.”
nagi seishiro
you’re both at an arcade because nagi wanted to win you a plushie without sweating or trying too hard.
suddenly a little boy approaches you with a soda he can barely lift.
“my mom said i can give this to someone i like,” he says proudly. “and i like you.”
nagi blinks slowly. he genuinely can’t tell if this is real or a side quest.
“oh, that’s so sweet,” you say, helping the boy hold the soda so he doesn’t drop it.
nagi watches you kneel down, all soft and smiley, and he internally goes: ugh… adorable… but also kinda pissing me off… what the heck…
the kid then gestures to the basketball arcade machine. “do you wanna play with me? i can win you a prize!”
nagi squints. “she already has me for that.”
you elbow him lightly, but he’s dead serious.
the boy tries anyway and throws a ball that barely reaches the rim. he misses.
nagi steps beside you, yawning, then casually sinks a perfect shot without even looking. “see? easy.” (this is the pettiest flex he’s ever done.)
the boy still tells you, “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”
nagi makes a noise like “tch…” and nudges your shoulder.
“i tell you that all the time,” he mumbles.
eventually the boy leaves and nagi wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind, leaning his full weight on you.
“don’t like it,” he murmurs.
“don’t like what?”
“people stealing my attention.”
yep, he wants all your cute reactions to himself.
mikage reo
you two are at a café waiting for your drinks. reo is flirting, being the cutie he is, tucking hair behind your ear like he’s in a k-drama.
then a small boy walks up holding a sticker sheet.
“um…” he says shyly. “i wanna give you a sticker. because you’re really really really pretty.”
you gasp. reo freezes mid-hair-tuck.
“aww, thank you!” you say, choosing the sparkly star sticker. the kid grins from ear to ear.
reo steps beside you, smiling too, but visibly twitching. “wow, that’s so nice. she is pretty, isn’t she?”
the boy nods aggressively, then turns back toward you. “i can share my cookie with you, too!!”
reo’s like please do not accept that cookie i swear to the heavens–
you decline gently, but the kid still stands there, staring at you like you're magical.
he then asks, “are you a princess?”
reo suddenly kneels down to eye level with the boy, smiling sweetly, but with big brother menace.
“she’s my girlfriend, actually.”
the boy: “oh.”
reo: “yeah.”
“… can i still give her this dinosaur sticker?”
reo sighs internally. “yeah, buddy. you can.”
after the kid leaves, reo immediately sticks the dinosaur sticker on the back of your phone case.
“now it’s ours,” he says, kissing your cheek.
he is determined to reclaim every single cute thing that child gave you.
bachira meguru
y’all are outside at a food truck festival, and bachira is happily forcing you to take bites of everything he bought “so we can share flavors like soulmates.”
then a little boy toddles up holding… a rock. not a pretty rock. a rock.
“i found this for you,” he says, absolutely earnest. “it’s cool. like you.”
you take it because you’re NICE.
bachira gasps. loudly. dramatically.
“baby… why does he get your rock acceptance privilege? i gave you a rock one time and you told me to ‘stop picking things off the ground.’”
you’re giggling and patting the kid’s head while bachira is staring like he’s been betrayed.
“so she likes his ground trash, but not mine? girl whatever.”
the kid then goes, “you have pretty eyelashes.”
bachira immediately leans down, eyes wide: “i have pretty eyelashes too. look. look at them.” he blinks aggressively like a deranged butterfly.
he kid is starstruck by you though, so he ignores bachira completely.
bachira clutches his chest. “he didn’t even look… i blinked so hard…”
when the kid waves bye, bachira waves too, but in that i’m pretending not to be passive aggressive way.
later, he asks, “so… if i give you a rock again, will you like it now?”
you’re like “if it’s cute, yeah.”
bachira returns ten minutes later with a heart-shaped one he hunted for like a pokemon.
shidou ryusei
you and shidou are walking through the mall, hand in hand, when a tiny boy sprints up to you like a missile.
“HI!” he yells. “YOU’RE SOOO PRETTY!”
you smile, and shidou’s entire face darkens like thunder forming.
the kid holds up a gummy candy. “do you want this? it’s my favorite!”
you’re like “awww,” and shidou is like “IF YOU EAT THAT I’M THROWING UP.”
the child then ADMITS HIS FEELINGS: “when i grow up, i’m gonna marry you.”
shidou BURSTS into laughter. not nice laughter. evil laughter.
“oh yeah? how tall are you planning to be, champ?”
you smack shidou’s arm like “stop bullying him,” but he’s already crouched down in front of the kid like a disney villain.
“listen little man… she’s taken. by me. the guy who can bench press your dad.”
the kid goes, “i’m not scared of you.”
you almost choke trying not to laugh.
shidou is offended. “WHY NOT???”
“my mom says boys with pink hair are nice.”
shidou stands up slowly…
“i take it back. this child is EVIL.”
once the kid leaves, shidou corners you to the wall like, “say you love me more than gummy-boy.”
you say it just to get him to stop being dramatic.
karasu tabito
you’re at a convenience store grabbing snacks. karasu is behind you making snarky commentary about every brand you pick up (“really? that one? bold choice.”).
a little boy holding a juice box walks up, cheeks puffed. “you have a pretty smile,” he says to you.
you thank him, and karasu is immediately like: “bro, yer like five. focus on yer ABCs.”
the kid BLINKS. stares dead at karasu.
“my mom says i can compliment people.”
karasu folds his arms. “yer mom didn’t say ya could flirt with people who are taken.”
you’re laughing, but the kid is so brave. “i’m not flirting. i just think she’s pretty. prettier than you.”
karasu steps in front of the door instantly. “no, ya can’t.”
you’re like “tabi baby, he’s a child.”
“and children need boundaries.”
the boy eventually waddles off, but not before sending a last admiring glance your way.
karasu leans in, whispering, “don’t look at him. look at me.”
“you’re really fighting for your life against a toddler huh?”
“he started it.”
kaiser michael
you’re in a perfume store testing scents. kaiser is pretending not to be jealous every time you say “ooh this smells nice,” because he wants to be the only thing you think smells nice on earth.
a tiny boy approaches, clutching a sample paper strip.
“this smells like you,” he says proudly.
you take a sniff – it smells like vanilla. you smile.
kaiser internally is going off: NO. NOPE. UNACCEPTABLE.
the kid then goes, “you’re really pretty. i can hold your bag if you want!”
kaiser takes your bag immediately and throws his hair back like a peacock. “she’s good. thanks.”
the kid stares at kaiser’s jacket with admiration. “are you her brother?”
kaiser nearly drops dead. “BROTHER????”
the kid blinks: “you don’t look like her boyfriend.”
kaiser kneels down to stare him down eye-to-eye.
“i am exactly her boyfriend. the best boyfriend. the world-class boyfriend. what do you mean I don’t LOOK like it?”
the kid shrugs, “i dunno. she’s prettier than you.”
kaiser looks like someone just unplugged his entire soul.
you’re dying. absolutely wheezing.
kaiser turns to you like, “stop laughing at my enemy.”
later, he buys the perfume the kid gave you and sprays it on his neck. “if you like that smell so much, you can like it on me.”
ness alexis
you and ness are in a cute café, peacefully sharing a pastry while he’s telling you random fun facts he learned online (“did you know octopuses have three hearts?”).
then a little boy walks up shyly holding… a tiny origami crane.
“my sister taught me how to make these,” he says bashfully. “i wanted to give you one because you’re pretty.”
ness freezes.
origami?? PRETTY?? COMBINED??
“oh wow,” you say, smiling. “that’s so sweet!”
ness is like “wait– i make origami too. look!”
he pulls out a napkin and starts folding it at lightning speed, panic mode activated. when he’s done, it looks like a… blob.
the kid: “what is that?”
ness: “…… a bird.”
the boy then tells you, “you’re like a princess.”
ness nods aggressively: “yes she is. MY princess.”
the kid doesn’t care. “do you wanna see my drawing?”
ness tries to look, but the kid literally turns the notebook away so only you can see it.
ness is SEETHING.
once the kid leaves, ness sighs dramatically. “i can make a better crane. i swear it. just give me paper that isn’t a napkin.”
you pat his head. “ness, baby, you’re adorable.”
“i’m not adorable.”
“you’re very adorable.”
he melts instantly.
bllk boys and their mean girlfriends ft isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, reo mikage, alexis ness, bachira meguru
notes: reader is a BITCH! (not to the boys), actual horrible shit being said by reader but our boys are too in love to notice or care, suicide mentions, i'm not condoning what reader does the point is that they're feral, part 2
༄ isagi:
✣ you’re his precious angel who can do no wrong, so of course he’s defending you tooth and nail. when you’re at his games flipping off the opposite team he thinks you’re too adorable for words. during practice, kaiser is ragging on him as usual and you’re there before isagi can blink, telling kaiser that no wonder his dad hit him with a shitty personality like that. insanely harsh, but you’re so cute to have his back!
⁀➷ “you need to stop getting yourself hurt like this, princess,” isagi murmurs as he gently applies an antiseptic to your knuckles. he wasn’t expecting you to punch rin in the face after some off-handed comment during practice (mostly stemming from rin’s own insecurities, but you’re not tolerating any disrespect towards your man.) isagi had stepped in right as rin was about to retaliate and you had gotten kicked off the field anyway, leading to the impromptu patch-up in the locker room.
with a final piece of medical tape, he kisses your bruised hand and smiles softly at you, cupping your cheek in his palm. “thank you for being my knight in shining armor, baby,” he says gently, all the love in the world filling his voice. maybe you’re not the most ethical about it, but your desire to protect him more than makes up for it in his eyes.
༄ sae:
✣ always assumes you’re correct in every single situation. he looks to be nonchalant about your dating life, but he is easily your number one shooter. you’re on twitter telling his fans to kill themselves when they talk about how attractive he is or how he should break up with you and he’s in the kitchen smirking at his phone watching you go to war. never once in his life has he ever gave a shit about what people think about him, but the second something about you is viewed in a negative light? all bets are off. he’ll get just as toxic as you are.
⁀➷ the reporters are crowding him the second he’s getting off the plane. he already knows exactly what it’s about yet it still pisses him off. in his opinion, people are at fault for provoking you in the first place. in an irritating attempt to get his attention, one of the interviewers calls out, “sae! what do you have to say about your girlfriend tweeting ‘if i was your mom i would’ve killed myself too’ to one of your fans?!”
yeah, he saw that one, and he thought it was funny. someone had been trying to rile you up by saying how re al would be better off without sae on the team. unfortunately for them, they had “rip mom🩵🕊️” in their bio, giving you the perfect ammo to shoot back with. he clears his throat and simply says, “she’s right,” before walking off, leaving the paparazzi stunned.
༄ reo:
✣ you are so awful for the mikage image and reo loves every second of it. having such a stagnant and pre-planned upbringing versus your unhinged nature was just what he needed. barely a week can go by without you trending online for something heinous you said or did. in turn, you have quite a large following for simply how funny your antics and toxicity towards others is. reo must have the most heavily tinted rose colored glasses ever, because he always talks about how sweet and kind you are. the fans are still searching for the person he’s trying to describe, because it sure as hell isn’t you.
⁀➷ you’re lounging in bed, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when reo approaches you. like clockwork, you shift into his arms as he climbs into bed and relaxes next to you. his fingers are running through your hair when he finally asks in the most soft and gentle voice, “my love, why are you being called out on twitter again?” of course, you’re always sure to voice how it isn’t really your fault and that people should stop pissing you off if they don’t want you to come for their necks.
quite honestly, he’s not really listening ; not because he’s not interested, but because you’re just irresistible when you defend yourself. regardless of whether or not you’re actually at fault (you are), he still sees you as his precious and adorable lover. he simply nods and leaves feather light kisses up and down the side of your neck, mumbling something like, “how dare they?” or “you’re so smart, angel,” every so often. if you ever were to get in any real trouble, the mikage fortune would be there to bail you out - so he sees no real reason to stop your tirades.
༄ alexis:
✣ “me and my girl don’t argue she tells me to shut up and i do.” ness is honestly thankful for how much of a raging bitch you can be. not only does he never see anything wrong with it, but actively encourages it as well. you’re cussing out the mcdonald’s worker for putting pickles on his burger while he’s behind you with a dopey smile on his face, clinging to you like a lifeline. the only time he had to tug you away is when you were half a second away from clawing kaiser’s eyes out and had his neck bruising beneath your fingers for insinuating ness was more of a dog than a person. the german is still terrified whenever you accompany your boyfriend to practice.
⁀➷ in all the plans alexis had for his future, standing in front of the two people that crushed his childhood fantasies in facts and testing wasn’t one of them. he had left on a bitter note when he joined bastard münchen yet hadn’t found the courage to voice his true feelings on the matter. luckily for him, you had no shortage of guts to lay into his parents without fear.
for the first time in their lives, they’re stunned silent at your vicious words and mockery of their profession, upbringing, parenting, even going so far as to point out his mother’s physical imperfections and saying the only worthwhile thing she did was give birth a child that wasn’t nearly as ugly as she is. they can’t even get a word in before you grab alexis’ hand and drag him out, kicking a dent in his father’s car for good measure. even though your display was nothing short of pure evil, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt closer to god than when you cradle him in your hold, whispering words of love and praise into his ear. being a crybaby was something he was told he should be ashamed of, but the sensation left behind when you wipe his grateful tears is worth it to him.
༄ bachira:
✣ might honestly be the biggest enabler on this entire list along with alexis. he absolutely lives for chaos plus he’s too sickeningly in love with you to ever question a move you might make. he can hear you arguing with ego on the phone about bachira being overworked and while normally nothing phases blue lock’s director, the death threats you sent to his office were incredibly convincing and contained information that should’ve been impossible to obtain. he’d probably hire you if he wasn’t positive you’d pipe bomb the entire structure if anyone even gave a dirty look to your boyfriend.
⁀➷ “whatcha doiiiinnnn?” bachira asks while plopping on top of the couch - in the exact spot while you were resting, mind you. you let out a light ‘oof!’ as his weight crushes you for a moment before leveling out. the second his head falls to rest on your stomach, you're carding one hand through his hair while the other angrily taps on your phone. he doesn’t really think to ask as he’s on the verge of falling asleep, but the sound he has set for your tweets dings from his phone (because of course he has notifications for you on.)
he lazily unlocks his phone and clicks onto the app only to bust out into laughter. whatever useless no-name had decided to say bachira’s playstyle only hinders his teammates was met with your quote retweet stating to ‘go take a long walk off a short bridge.’ in his overly happy splendor, he blows raspberries onto the soft skin of your tummy while you squeal and try to push him off. stubborn as he is he just refuses to let up until you're curled up in laughter. behind his silliness, he’s eternally grateful to have someone so devoted to him after years of isolation from his peers. he can’t help but think he’d do anything to keep you in his grasp - regardless of the consequences that might follow.
characters - rin , sae , kaiser , ness , nagi , reo. ( incubus bllk boys x female reader) | pt II here! | pt III here!
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ RIN ITOSHI
you never stood a chance.
because rin doesn’t fuck out of need, he fucks out of control.
and now that he’s tasted you, he doesn’t want to share.
doesn’t want to leave.
doesn’t want to stop.
he appears in your dreams like a shadow in the corner of your room, tall and still and watching, teal eyes faintly glowing, mouth twisted in his usual scowl.
you beg him not to do it again, not to use you like that, not to turn you into some dazed little doll who wakes up sore and shaking.
he doesn’t listen.
“ shut up,” he mutters, spreading your legs open as your eyes flutter. “ you’re the one dreaming about me.”
he eats your pussy like he’s starving. fingers gripping your thighs open, tongue dragging long and deep, until you cum all over his face and he still doesn’t stop.
he fucks you slow, but hard. rough thrusts that make your headboard hit the wall.
and when you cry, he just licks the tears from your cheek.
he never says it.
but the way he marks you, fills you, stays in your dreams night after night.
you know he’s obsessed.
and he hates himself for it.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ SAE ITOSHI
sae doesn’t visit your dreams.
he summons you to his domain, dark marble floors, black firelight, velvet-draped throne and all — and expects you to kneel like the little plaything you are.
“ what a mess you’ve become,” he hums, fingers curling under your chin. “ all this just for me?”
he has that deadpan calm, even when he’s fucking you, like you’re a new luxury item he’s toying with, not a person. he watches you break beneath him like it’s routine.
his thrusts are slow, deep, and humiliating, never giving you enough, never letting you control anything.
he makes you say please.
makes you thank him.
makes you beg to be filled.
and when you cum too fast, too loud, too desperate, he only raises an eyebrow.
“pathetic,” he murmurs, but his voice is low with approval.
“ i guess you were made for this after all.”
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ MICHAEL KAISER
you feel him before you see him, his presence like static electricity on your skin.
then he appears, always with that confident grin, shirt half-unbuttoned, wings spread wide.
“ guess who’s back, baby.”
kaiser lives to ruin you.
he wants you crying, shaking, clawing at his back.
he wants to hear every breathless moan, every broken scream, every “ please, more, kaiser—” like it’s a song written just for him.
“ look at that face,” he coos, stuffing two fingers into your mouth while he fucks you from behind.
“ that’s the face of a girl who’s addicted.”
his incubus form is flashy and powerful, glowing tattoos across his chest, gold-dusted skin, aura humming with pleasure and pride.
he takes you on his throne, in the air, against the walls.
“ you’re mine,” he growls in your ear after filling you up, “ but don’t worry, sweetheart. i take care of my toys.” *i kinda cringe here..anywayss*
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ ALEXIS NESS
ness is soft-spoken, sweet, and pretty, with glittering pink horns and a voice like honey.
he asks before touching. strokes your hair. kisses you like you’re a porcelain doll.
but the moment you moan for him? he changes.
his mouth turns filthy. his claws come out. his tail curls around your ankle to keep you in place.
“ you’re so easy to ruin,” he breathes, watching your cunt stretch around his cock.
“ so soft, so helpless.”
ness loves overstimulating you. he’ll eat you out until your thighs are shaking, then shove his cock inside and fuck you slow just to watch you sob. he kisses your tears, calls you his good little human girl, and makes you say “ please” every time.
when he cums inside you, he moans like he’s the one losing his mind.
and he always stays just long enough to clean you up… with his tongue.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ NAGI SEISHIRO
he doesn’t hunt.
he waits.
nagi’s the one who shows up when you’re bored, horny, touching yourself with your hand between your legs like it’s nothing.
and suddenly he’s there, yawning, stretching his arms, brushing silver hair out of his eyes.
“ need help?” he mumbles, before you even realize what’s happening.
his cock is massive. thick. heavy. and he’s so lazy with it, just drapes you across the bed, pushes himself into you inch by inch while groaning in your ear like you’re the one tiring him out.
but he never stops.
not even when your body’s gone limp. not even when you’ve cum four times and you’re shaking.
“ feels good… ‘m not done yet,” he’ll just mutter, and keep rutting into you slow and deep until you’re half-conscious, drool dripping from your lips.
“ you feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. “ can i cum inside again? ‘m too lazy to pull out.”
nagi doesn’t fuck you like a demon.
nagi fucks like he barely cares, but somehow, that makes it worse.
he uses your body like it’s a toy. tosses you on his lap, makes you ride him while he scrolls his phone. tells you not to stop even when your legs give out.
he moans like you’re his personal massage chair.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ REO MIIKAGE
reo has everything.
gold. power. worship.
but what he really wants? you, whimpering underneath him, trembling around his cock, looking up at him like he’s your entire world.
“ no one else gets to see this side of you,” he murmurs, voice dark and greedy as he presses kisses to your stomach.
“ you’re mine now, okay?”
reo’s incubus form is gorgeous, jeweled horns, sleek claws, even his wings shimmer like polished obsidian.
he doesn’t fuck you. he spoils you with sex.
he fingers you slowly in silk sheets while murmuring “good girl” into your neck, makes you cum until your body’s twitching before he even pulls his cock out.
then he ruins you, hips slamming into you fast and hard until you’re crying his name into the pillow.
he praises you like it’s worship.
but he owns you like a devil.
“ cum for me, baby,” he purrs, breath hot against your ear. “show me who your body belongs to.”
PLEASE DO ALEXIS NESS FOR LOST IN TRANSLATION NEXT!! 🥹
Lost in Translation
Blue Lock! Alexis Ness x reader
He's been flirting with you for weeks... but you don't know German.
Warnings: Fluff; Ness speaks bad English; NOT PROOFREAD!!!
[Lost in Translation Series]
Germany wasn’t the escape you planned — it was the escape you ran to.
You had been tired in the way that didn’t touch the bones but wrapped around the heart instead, tightening with every deadline, every conversation, every night you told yourself everything was fine when it wasn’t. So you booked the flight. You packed lightly. You made a promise to yourself that you would breathe and figure life out later.
And that was how you found yourself wandering across foreign cobblestone streets, map forgotten in your pocket, drawn only by the scent of fresh pastry and the promise of warmth.
The café wasn’t remarkable at first glance — a little corner place tucked between a florist and a bookstore, almost easy to miss if not for the old wooden sign hanging above the door: Kaffeehaus Mondlicht. Moonlight Café.
The bells chimed softly when you entered.
Warm air enveloped you, sweet with cinnamon and steamed milk, glowing gold from the lantern-like lights hanging low from the ceiling. Couples chatted quietly. A woman in the corner typed on a laptop. The barista hummed as she wiped a counter.
You felt something inside you loosen, the tension that lived between your shoulders melting just a little.
And then you saw him.
He was sitting alone near the window — a young man with pale skin and hair that faded into soft magenta tips, his lashes long enough to cast delicate shadows when he blinked. His eyes — magenta, too — were bright and expressive even from where you stood, as if someone had lit a small star inside them.
He noticed you at the exact second you noticed him.
His expression flickered — surprise, then embarrassment, then a soft, nervous smile tugging at his lips. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear even though nothing had fallen there. The gesture was small, almost shy.
You looked away quickly, cheeks warming.
He was… distracting.
You ordered your coffee with a smile that felt too tight and took a seat across the room, turning your face toward the window to avoid looking back at him.
Except…you could feel his eyes on you.
Little glances.
Barely-there looks.
Like he kept checking if you were still real.
Every time you pretended to take a sip, you caught him looking away too fast, lips twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or hide.
You wondered, fleetingly, who he was.
And why he looked at you like that — soft, curious, almost enchanted.
You brushed it off. You were just imagining it. Jet lag, probably.
You sipped your coffee and tried not to think about the boy with the magenta eyes.
The next day, he was there again.
Same window seat. Same warm drink cupped in his hands. Same soft smile when your gaze accidentally brushed his.
You ignored him. Badly.
And he kept looking. Also badly.
On day three, when you stumbled into the café half-asleep and decidedly unpretty, he straightened in his seat like someone had just pulled invisible strings attached to his back. And smiled. A real smile.
The kind that reached his eyes.
Like he was relieved you came back.
You pretended you didn’t notice the warmth blooming in your chest.
On day five, the inevitable happened.
You had just opened a book you weren’t actually reading when someone approached your table.
Your heartbeat jumped. You looked up. It was him.
Up close he was…pretty.
Soft jawline.
Eyes so bright they almost glowed.
And a strange sort of gentle intensity — like he noticed things most people didn’t.
He swallowed, ran his fingers anxiously through his hair, and said: “Hallo.”
You blinked. “…Hi?”
His smile grew, relieved.
“Darf ich mich setzen?”
He gestured to the chair across from you.
You had no clue what he said.
But he didn’t seem threatening, and he looked hopeful — painfully hopeful — so you nodded.
He lit up like someone had turned on the sun behind his eyes.
He sat. Carefully. Too carefully, like the chair might break under the weight of his nerves.
And then he spoke — rapid, soft German that sounded warm and musical in his accent, hands moving as if helping the story along.
You understood none of it.
But you nodded.
Smiled.
Forced a soft laugh when his own smile grew too bright.
He looked delighted.
Then he leaned forward, eyes shining with sincerity, and said quietly:
“Du bist… sehr hübsch.” You are… very pretty.
You didn’t understand the words, but the tone — the tone was unmistakable. Soft. Slightly shaky.
Affection pressed between consonants.
You blinked.
Nodded.
Smiled shyly because what else were you supposed to do when a handsome stranger spoke to you like that?
He inhaled sharply — like your reaction was a gift.
Your stomach flipped.
This became your new normal.
Every day, he approached you. Every day, he spoke in German — so passionately, so expressively — and every day, you nodded like an idiot who totally understood.
But even without the words, you understood him.
He was warm.
He was gentle.
He was animated, sometimes talking with both hands in a frantic swirl when he got excited.
He laughed easily.
Smiled constantly.
Looked at you like you were magic.
Then looked away like he wasn’t allowed to.
Sometimes his knee brushed yours under the table and he stiffened immediately — not pulling away, just blushing deeply as if the slightest contact scrambled his entire brain.
You found it adorable. Dangerously adorable.
But your favorite thing was how he listened — really listened — even to your nonsense.
The way his brows pulled together when you spoke English.
The way he leaned forward, studying your lips like he was trying to translate the shape of your sentences.
The way he smiled even when he didn’t understand a single word.
He didn’t try to correct you. He didn’t ask questions.
He just listened — like the sound of your voice did something to him.
And your heart started doing strange, warm things every time he appeared.
Some days, he walked you home.
You didn’t know how this began. Maybe you left at the same time. Maybe he timed it. Maybe it was coincidence — or maybe he’d been waiting for the opportunity.
The first time he asked — “Gemeinsam?” Together? — you nodded without knowing the meaning.
His face turned red so fast you almost worried. He rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin, then fell into step beside you.
He kept the pace slow, like he didn’t want the walk to end too soon.
Your hands brushed.
A tiny, tiny touch. He froze.
You pretended you didn’t notice.
He definitely noticed — eyes wide, lips parted, breath catching audibly — before he relaxed again, cheeks tinted rosy.
He looked like someone quietly falling apart.
You wondered if he always wore his heart so openly.
You wondered why you hoped he did.
And then came the day you saw him differently.
You were exploring the city alone, coat wrapped tight around you as the wind whipped through the streets. You wandered aimlessly, letting yourself get lost, until you stumbled across massive metal gates.
The sign read: BASTARD MÜNCHEN TRAININGSZENTRUM
You paused.
Soccer players rushed back and forth across the turf inside.
Shouts echoed.
Whistles blew.
The sound was loud, sharp, alive.
You should’ve walked away.
But then you saw him.
Alexis.
In uniform, sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, magenta eyes focused and burning like embers.
His jaw clenched as he sprinted.
Muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the lean lines of his body powerful and unexpected.
His breathing came out in visible white puffs, sharp and heavy.
He looked entirely different than the soft, smiling boy in the café.
He looked…beautiful.
And strong.
And alive in a way that made your pulse stutter.
You stared. Shamelessly.
Until he stopped mid-stride.
Until his eyes found yours across the fence.
Until he froze — like the world stopped for him, too.
His expression softened instantly.
Surprise.
Then warmth.
Then something fragile and overwhelming.
He jogged to the fence, breathless, chest rising and falling quickly.
“You…” he panted, pointing.
“…hier?” Here?
You panicked.
Smiled too fast.
Nodded too hard.
He brightened so dramatically you thought he might faint on the spot.
“Für… mich?” For me?
He pointed at himself, hopeful.
You didn’t know the words.
So you gave him a thumbs-up.
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a choked sob — and pressed his hand against his heart as if steadying it.
That was the moment you realized he had feelings.
Real ones.
Soft.
Tender.
Messy.
And the dangerous part?
You felt something stir inside you in response.
Not full-blown feelings — but the spark of them.
The beginning.
A warm ache.
A small flutter.
Something you couldn’t brush aside anymore.
And he kept trying to ask you out.
And failing.
And trying again.
And failing again.
And falling apart a little more each time.
He tried four times before you realized he’d been trying at all.
The first attempt happened so naturally you didn’t even suspect.
It was late afternoon — golden hour — that warm glow that made the café look like something from a dream. You were already seated, tapping at your phone, when he rushed in with hair wind-tousled and a panicked sparkle in his eyes, like he thought you might not show up today.
He approached your table with a nervous energy you felt before he even spoke. “Hi…” he murmured, shyly — the English greeting he’d picked up from you.
Then he switched to his comfort zone, German.
“Willst du mit mir ausgehen?” Do you want to go out with me?
His voice trembled.
Just slightly.
Enough to betray how much courage it took him.
You didn’t know what he said.
You thought he was… offering you a pastry? A recommendation? A local dessert? He gestured vaguely at the table, and you, panicked by the long eye contact and the softness in his voice, nodded.
His entire soul left his body and re-entered with confetti.
He grinned — a wide, boyish, breath-stealing grin — and whispered something like,
“Wirklich…?” Really? and “Oh mein Gott…” Oh my god… and “Danke!” Thank you!
He left the café with the energy of someone who had just been resurrected.
And then he waited at a restaurant for an hour.
By himself.
In a nice shirt.
Because you’d unknowingly accepted a date.
He cried in the bathroom.
You didn’t know any of this yet.
The second attempt was even worse.
Not his fault.
Entirely yours.
He was walking you home — he did this more often now, instinctively falling into step beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets because he didn’t trust them not to reach for yours.
As you passed a bakery window, he inhaled sharply as if bracing himself for a punch.
Then, in a soft, trembling voice, he whispered: “Vielleicht… ein Date? Nur wir zwei?” Maybe… a date? Just the two of us?
Your brain, hearing tone not content, thought he was talking about the pastries in the window.
Maybe asking you to look.
Or maybe asking if you wanted to stop inside.
You nodded.
His heart exploded in slow motion.
He sighed — this long, shaky, relieved exhale — and his cheeks flushed warm pink all the way to the tips of his ears. He murmured something like,
“Sie sagt wieder ja…” She says yes again… as if he could barely believe his luck.
He bought flowers.
You didn’t show.
He placed the flowers on your usual café table the next day and sat with his head in his hands until his teammate dragged him away.
You didn’t know that either.
The third attempt was the most emotional one.
It was raining — the soft, mist-like kind that blurred the world into watercolor and made the city look romantic enough to break hearts. You were both standing under a shop canopy, waiting for the downpour to ease. The air smelled like petrichor and fresh bread from the bakery next door.
He was standing close.
Closer than usual.
So close you could see the raindrops clinging to his eyelashes.
He swallowed, gathering courage.
“Kann ich dein Freund sein?” Can I be your boyfriend?
The words were heavy, trembling — the most vulnerable he’d ever sounded.
But all you heard was a string of pretty German syllables and a hopeful look.
So you nodded automatically.
His eyes widened.
Then filled with tears.
Actual tears.
Not dramatic ones.
Not chaotic ones.
Soft, fragile, quiet tears — the kind born from years of not being chosen for anything except obedience and loyalty.
He whispered, voice cracking,
“Danke… danke…”
as if he’d been waiting his whole life to hear your answer.
You panicked because why was he crying??
What did you accidentally agree to??
Was he okay?!
He thought you were overwhelmed by emotion.
He held the sleeve of his jacket to his eyes, trying not to cry harder.
He walked home soaked.
From rain or tears — you would later learn — both.
The fourth attempt was when he started breaking.
And you saw it.
You didn’t understand it.
But you saw something in his eyes that day — something small and crumpled and scared.
It was near sunset, the sky painted with streaks of pink and orange that mirrored the magenta tint in his hair. You were sitting outside the café this time, wrapped in a light jacket, the air crisp around you.
He joined you silently.
No greeting.
No smile.
Just a soft, drawn look — cheeks pale, eyes dimmer than usual.
You didn’t like it.
“Alles okay?” you asked gently, the only German phrase you knew.
He smiled.
The fragile kind.
The kind that was meant to hide something but only revealed it more.
Then he asked:
“Bitte… gib mir eine Chance…?” Please… give me a chance…?
The words sounded like a plea.
Raw.
Soft.
Full of fear.
Your heart clenched.
You nodded because what else could you do when someone looked at you like that?
He stared at you — stunned — like your “yes” wasn’t a yes, but a miracle.
Like someone had reached into his chest and pressed sunlight against an old bruise.
He didn’t speak after that.
He just looked at you like he was afraid to breathe and scare the moment away.
And then he left early.
That was the moment you realized:
Whatever he felt for you… it was deep.
Much deeper than you’d thought.
Your chest tightened in a way you didn’t want to analyze.
Not yet.
The fifth attempt was when everything finally made sense — and everything fell apart at the same time.
It began with his eyes.
Normally bright.
Normally full of sparkle.
Normally soft.
But that day — they looked dull.
Like something inside him had cracked.
He sat across from you, hands clasped together near his mouth, eyes fixed on the table instead of you.
He’d never done that before.
You reached for your coffee, trying to pretend the air between you wasn’t heavy with unspoken things. But before you could say anything, he whispered:
“Maybe… English…?”
His voice shook.
You blinked.
That alone startled you — because he never initiated English first. Ever.
He looked up at you.
And for the first time since you met him…
He looked defeated.
Then he asked — in quiet, broken, heavily accented English — “Can you… be with me? Romance… date… us… together?”
Your coffee nearly slipped from your hand.
The world muted.
Time slowed.
Everything rearranged itself in your mind.
Your confusion.
His blushes.
His nervousness.
His tears.
His dramatic reactions.
His joy.
His heartbreak.
And worst: The four times he thought you said yes…when you had no idea what he’d said.
He watched your face fall in slowly dawning horror.
And his shoulders slumped as if your silence alone was confirmation of his worst fear.
You finally exhaled — shaky, embarrassed, panicked.
That was when your brain finally put all the pieces into one very horrifying, very obvious picture.
The café.
The walks.
The hair tucking.
The cheek kisses.
His tears.
His nervousness.
His trembling voice every time he asked you something.
You felt all the air leave your lungs.
“I—I don’t understand German,” you blurted out, voice cracking.
“I haven’t understood anything you’ve said. Not a single thing. For months.”
He stared at you like you’d just told him the moon was fake.
“No… German?” he whispered, like it physically hurt him to say it.
“No.”
“You—smile. You nod. Always. All the time!” His fingers tapped his chest in frantic little circles. “You look happy! You look… very cute happy!”
“I was panicking!”
“PANICKING???”
He looked personally offended — like you’d betrayed the laws of physics.
“Yes! I didn’t want to be rude!”
He made a noise.
Not a human noise.
Something like a wounded baby bird and a dying kettle.
“I ask you on date… many times…”
He held up one finger.
Then two.
Then three.
Then four.
Then a sad, shaky five.
“You say yes… EVERY time!”
You slumped into your chair, mortified.
“Oh, god.”
“Oh, god,” he echoed, dramatically rubbing his temples.
“I buy flowers… you never come. I wait at restaurant… you never come. I think—” he clutched his chest, “—maybe I am too much. Maybe she hates me. Maybe magic is fake.”
That part hit harder than it should’ve.
You felt guilt punch the breath out of you.
“Alexis… I didn’t know. I swear. I’m so sorry.”
His voice softened to something tiny and fragile:
“Is okay… if you do not like me.”
Your chest twisted, your heart stumbling over itself, and you reached out instinctively, placing your hand over his.
Warm.
Shaking.
Hopeful.
“I do like you,” you whispered.
“For real.”
He blinked.
Everything inside him stopped.
“You…” he swallowed hard, voice cracking, “…do?”
You nodded.
His breath left him in a single, trembling exhale — Then exploded.
“JA!!” YESS!! he yelled, leaping to his feet like a man possessed.
The café erupted.
Someone gasped, “Er hat ihr einen Antrag gemacht!” He proposed to her!
Another woman shrieked with joy.
An old man clapped so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
A teenager pulled out his phone to record.
A lady shoved a tiny bouquet of wildflowers into your hands.
“Glückwunsch!!” she squealed. Congratulations!
You sat there frozen, flowers in hand, confused.
Alexis panicked mid-celebration, waving his hands frantically:
“NEIN! KEIN ANTRAG! KEIN ANTRAG—KEIN RING—STOPP—HALT—BITTE—” NO! NO PROPOSAL! NO REGISTRATION – NO RING – STOP – STOP – PLEASE –“
But no one stopped.
Not even a little.
Someone even shouted, “KÜSS SIE!!!” KISS HER!!!
You wanted to sink into the floor.
Alexis covered his face with his hands.
“I want to die,” he whispered dramatically through his fingers.
“This is worst moment of my life and also best moment of my life and I hate it.”
You touched his arm gently.
He froze.
Then peeked at you between his fingers.
You held out your hand.
“Come here,” you whispered.
He lowered his hands, walked back to the table like a damp, confused puppy, and sat down. His cheeks were bright red, eyes watery, chest still rising and falling like he’d just run ten miles.
You leaned closer.
“Dating,” he repeated breathlessly.
“Not married.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Once.
Twice.
Then again, very slowly — the realization sinking in like sunshine into cold skin.
His voice softened into something sincere and trembling:
“Dating…”
His eyes glazed with emotion.
“You are… really… mine?”
Warmth fluttered in your chest.
“I’m yours,” you admitted quietly.
“If you still want me.”
His breath hitched.
His hand slid into yours — slowly, reverently, like he was afraid you might break.
“I want you,” he whispered.
“Since first moment.”
And then—
then he gently leaned his forehead to yours.
Not quite a kiss.
Not quite a hug.
Just a soft press of skin to skin, breath mingling, fingers tightening around yours.
Your heart pounded.
His did too — you could feel it.
He whispered against your skin:
“I promise… I learn English for you.”
A trembling exhale.
“So we never have… this big disaster again.”
You laughed softly, breath brushing his lips.
“And I’ll learn German for you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you properly — wide-eyed, overwhelmed, full of wonder.
“Really…?”
“Really.”
He melted.
Completely.
His thumb brushed your knuckles — slow, warm, terrified and bold all at once.
“I… so happy,” he whispered.
“So… so… so happy…”
You smiled, cheeks warm.
“Me too.”
He made another tiny squeak — this time of pure joy — and hid his face in his hands again.
And the café, wrongly convinced they had just witnessed a proposal, applauded one final time.
You and Alexis sat there together — blushing, laughing, shaking, overwhelmed — and for the first time…
ᘛ barou shoei - you say it so casually. “can i hold it while you pee?” and this man, this beast of a man, short circuits. it’s like someone unplugged the console. he just stands there with a grimace like you told him his protein powder was poisoned. “the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls, glaring down at you with actual offense in his voice. you shrug. bat your lashes. tilt your head and go, “pleaaase, baby? i’ll be gentle.” he mutters something about dating a goddamn gremlin under his breath but lets you do it anyway under strict supervision. arms crossed, eyes narrowed, entire body stiff as a board while you hold his dick like it’s radioactive. “you drop it, and i swear i’ll never nut in you again.”
ᘛ michael kaiser - you say it just as he unzips. “can i hold it?” and he turns his head slowly, smirk blooming like you just asked if you could polish his crown. “you wanna hold the king’s scepter, huh?” he purrs. you nearly choke. he actually moves aside so you can take over like it’s your rightful duty. “be gentle, liebling. he’s sensitive.” you laugh so hard you nearly drop it. kaiser starts humming the german national anthem. you’re both crying by the end of it. he bows theatrically when it’s done and kisses your knuckles like you just gave him the best head of his life. “you may now flush.”
ᘛ isagi yoichi - you ask it with a little grin while he’s reaching for his zipper and he just stops. “huh?” he blinks. “you wanna what?” you repeat yourself with full confidence and he flushes immediately. face, ears, neck, all crimson. “that’s not a thing people do. that’s… who does that??” he rambles, spiraling in real-time. but you just give him the big eyes, the pout, the sweet little voice. he finally caves, red as a tomato, and hands it over with a breathless “don’t make it weird.” but he’s the one sweating. the one staring at the wall like he’s seeing ghosts. and when it’s over, he whispers, “never again,” like you just made him commit war crimes.
ᘛ itoshi rin - the moment you ask, he slams the bathroom door. doesn’t say a word. just shuts it in your face like you’re the devil himself. you’re on the floor outside the door, laughing like a demon, wheezing, “it’s not that weird, rin!!” it takes two full days before he brings it up again quietly, in a whisper. “if you’re gonna do it, don’t talk.” you swear you won’t. but the second you get your hand on it you’re like “ooooh! what if i aim it at the drain?” and he immediately barks out, “i changed my mind. give it back.” you whine. he blushes. you win.
ᘛ shidou ryusei - you don’t even get to finish the sentence. “can i hol—” and he’s cackling. doubling over, wheezing. “baby, you are so fucked in the head, holy shit.” but the thing is, he’s so down. this is his kind of chaos. he shoves your hand there like it’s part of the foreplay. “go on then! let’s water the plants!” you’re laughing so hard your knees go weak. he sways his hips, makes sprinkler noises, turns it into a whole fucking performance. “look babe! i’m an oscillating fan!” you are crying. he is thriving. you regret nothing.
ᘛ hiori yo - you ask him sweetly and he looks scandalized. like you just asked if you could perform open heart surgery. “wh-while i’m peeing? are you seriously?” you nod. big smile. “it’s for science!” and he gives you the most betrayed expression of all time. “this is… so weird. i’m so sorry, is this normal? this can’t be normal.” but your eyes are too shiny. your smile too innocent. he finally gives in and shakily lets you do it, hands hovering like you might break him. “please don’t squeeze it, i’m begging you,” he whispers. and then jumps when he actually starts peeing. poor baby is traumatized.
ᘛ kunigami rensuke - you ask and this man acts like you just proposed a live sex show in front of his mom. “what?!?!” his ears go red so fast it’s almost cartoonish. “wh-why would you even want to??” but the way you’re smiling, biting your lip, whispering, “please, ren,” with the cutest fucking voice? he’s toast. totally done. he lets you, but he cannot pee. like… at all. the moment your hand wraps around him, his bladder just decides it’s shy now. “you’re staring! i can’t go when you’re looking at me like that, babe!!”
ᘛ itoshi sae - you say it. he stares at you. a single blink. deadpan. “why.” no emotion. no shock. just that dry sarcasm that makes you wanna strangle and kiss him at the same time. “for science,” you say with a shrug. he sighs, long and deep, like he’s dealing with a toddler. “fine. but if you mess up the aim, you’re cleaning it with your tongue.” you make a face. he raises a brow. “joking. mostly.” the whole time he watches you like a professor grading a first-year’s attempt at surgery. “your grip’s uneven. are you nervous?” sae please shut up i’m trying to help you pee.
ᘛ nagi seishiro - you ask. he shrugs. “yeah, sure.” just like that. zero shame. zero hesitation. like you asked to borrow his charger. he flops his head back while you take over, still yawning like he’s barely awake. “want me to do it or are you driving?” he mumbles. you’re giggling and he’s just standing there like a sleepy angel while you handle his dick like it’s no big deal. “make sure you shake it after,” he says, already reaching for his phone like this is just another tuesday.
ᘛ karasu tabito - you ask and this man looks you straight in the eye and goes, “you’re a fucking menace.” but he’s so intrigued. “you wanna hold it while i pee? that’s what you’re into now? you collecting fetishes like pokémon cards?” you smirk. he groans. “you’re lucky i love you, freak.” when you actually do it, he makes the most annoying comments. “aww, look at you. holding my little guy. bonding time, huh?” you nearly drop him from laughing. he grins. “bet you feel powerful right now.”
ᘛ bachira meguru - the second you ask, this man gasps like you just offered him a new toy. “whaaat? you wanna hold him? like while he’s peeing???” he’s so excited. not even horny, just delighted. “okay but you have to talk to him. he likes when you cheer him on.” you’re already wheezing. you get down on your knees like a ceremony and gently take it and he giggles. “tell him he’s doing a good job!” you say, “good job, little guy!” and bachira’s just beaming, peeing like a damn water fountain, smiling with pride like it’s teamwork. he high-fives you after. “we did that together, baby.”
ᘛ chigiri hyoma - you bring it up so casually while brushing your teeth. “hey, can i hold your dick while you pee?” he freezes. toothbrush in mouth. jaw clenched. then slowly pulls it out and turns to you like you just suggested burning the house down. “i’m sorry. what the actual fuck did you just say?” you give him a sweet little grin and a shoulder shimmy. “just curious.” he groans, covers his face with a hand, mumbles, “you’re so weird,” but lets you do it anyway. face bright red, refusing to look down, muttering “this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever done” even though he won’t stop smirking.
ᘛ mikage reo - you ask and this rich boy goes very still. “you mean…like actually hold it? while i’m using the restroom?” he tilts his head, processing like a high-level chess move. “is this a bit? are you recording me?” but the curiosity wins. “fine. but only if i get to hold yours next time.” you choke. he smirks. and then lets you do it so cautiously, like you’re holding an ancient relic. “oh my god i’m peeing while my girlfriend’s hand is on my dick. am i living in a hentai?” he mutters. afterwards? “you wanna do it again later? like…for fun?”
ᘛ yukimiya kenyu - you say it while he’s adjusting his cologne. “can i hold it while you pee?” he pauses mid-spray. turns slowly, eyebrow arched, like you’re a peasant who just stepped into the versailles gardens barefoot. “excuse me?” you grin. “just for a second! i’m curious!” he exhales sharply, then finally nods. “if you must…” the whole time you’re doing it, he looks like a dramatic theatre prince. eyes closed, sighing, hand to his chest. “be delicate. you’re holding a work of art.” you’re trying so hard not to giggle. he moans dramatically when he’s done. “truly… a shared experience.”
ᘛ alexis ness - he squeaks. like, actual audible squeak when you ask. “y-you wanna—? like, hold it?!” his entire face goes pink. “w-while i’m—?” you nod. all sweet and innocent and he’s fidgeting, palms sweaty, looking around like someone’s gonna barge in and report him. “o-okay but don’t tell kaiser.” when you finally hold it, he’s trembling. “you’re holding it. you’re really—oh my god.” he nearly misses the toilet he’s so distracted. he’s muttering “this is fine, this is fine” like a traumatized intern. when it’s over, he covers his face. “i feel like i’ve lost my virginity again.”
ᘛ gagamaru gin - you ask and he just stares for a second. then shrugs. “sure. why not.” zero hesitation. you blink. “wait. really?” and he’s already unzipping, standing there like a gentle tree, arms relaxed, no shame in sight. you’re the one suddenly nervous. he looks down at you like, “c’mon, you wanted this, right?” you gently hold it like it’s a baby bird and he gives a little approving nod. “good form.” then starts peeing perfectly. steady stream. no spills. “solid grip. ten outta ten.” he even fist bumps you when it’s done. most wholesome piss-holding experience of your life.
ᘛ raichi jingo - you ask it with a grin and this man explodes. “what the fuck—no—why would you even—are you kidding me?!” he’s pacing. hands in his hair. yelling like you told him you keyed his car. “who the hell asks that?? are you some kinda pervert?” you just keep smiling. “you scared?” you tease. and he snaps. “scared?! i’m not scared. gimme your hand.” and suddenly he’s got your hand on his dick mid-pee, eyes wide, muttering “fuckfuckfuck” under his breath while he refuses to meet your gaze. when it’s done, he’s like, “we never talk about this again.”
ᘛ noel noa - you don’t even expect him to say yes. you say it as a joke. “can i hold it while you pee?” expecting a flat no or a withering stare. but instead silence. he gives you a long look. “why?” he asks, voice low and quiet. you stammer and shrug. “just curious.” and he nods. “fine. once.” you freeze. “wait. really?” “don’t make it weird,” he warns. the moment you’re holding it, you’re sweating bullets. he’s so composed. so calm. peeing like nothing’s happening while you’re holding the holy grail in your trembling fingers. when he finishes, he zips up, looks at you once, and goes, “now you know.”
