studying with kuroo but you're distracted<3 cw: suggestive
you were failing chemistry. terribly. it's not like you're stupid or anything — you had straight A's everywhere else without trying. maybe that was the problem — you never have to study much to get good grades, but for some reason it didn't work with chemistry.
so you called your only hope. kuroo tetsuro.
except, what you didn't think about, is that the man himself was a distraction. yes, he was smart, no you didn't listen to a word he was saying — not when he's leaning over behind you, arm flexing at your side when he's pointing at something in the textbook.
i mean, can he really blame you? he obviously just came back from the gym or practice, the way his muscles were even more prominent than usual. his hair was still damp from the shower he took, probably not even ten minutes before coming into your dorm, smelling like someone begging to do anything but studying.
when he realises you're not listening to him he pauses — seeing the way your eyes wander over his bulging arms, looking like you're itching to reach over and lick them. in any other scenario he might have been flattered, reciprocating by throwing some compliment in there, but right now he really didn't want his girlfriend to fail the year because she was busy ogling him.
"are you listening to a word i'm saying, or are my muscles more interesting than Schrödinger Wave Theory?" this seems to bring you out of your trance, suddenly aware how you were basically eating your boyfriend up with your gaze. your cheeks redden from embarassement, eyes looking everywhere but at him, making him chuckle.
"no... i'm sorry your body is distracting me.." your voice comes out quiet, he's almost not sure if he heard you right, but by the way you're avoiding his eyes he thinks he heard you just fine. "are you objectifying me while i'm trying to help you pass?" he acuses you dramatically, his hand clutching his chest in a offended manner.
"what? how is it my fault your biceps are like right next my head? am i not supposed to want to touch you when you'reright there?" you shot back, crossing your arms, finally having the courage to look at your boyfriend who was now smirking like he figured you all out.
moving his arms on each side of you from behind, he traps you right inbetween them, making it impossible for you to stand up without struggling. not that you would try to get away anyway. he leans his head down, his warm breath fanning over your ear before he whispers. "you know, if you get the next three questions right, i'll do whatever you want me to. but for now be a good girl and try to focus, alright?"
if that was supposed to help you concentrate, he failed miserably. your breath catches from the deep sound of his smooth voice whispering something so suggestive into your ear and you feel your stomach becoming warmer. your cheeks form a pink tint and you're not sure you can talk so you settle for a weak nod.
apparently that satisfies him, because he makes a aprroving noise and leans back up. with the loss of warmth from him behind you, you can finally breath normally again, trying to focus on the questions to get them right.
it seems the only thing you needed was a little reward for you to get the questions right because you aced three of three like it was the easist thing ever. kuroo's eyebrow arches up in amusement, the small cocky smirk never leaving his face.
"is this all it took for you to study? a promise to get me naked?" he teases, but he seems relived himself you got the questions right. he doesn't have the chance to tease you any further, already being roughly dragged to your bed.
guess the studying will have to happen another time.
a/n: happy mother’s day to all the mamas out there 🫶🏻 i’m still waiting for the day that i become yoichi’s baby mama (but we’re not ready for kids yet) 😔
also what is this hantavirus i’m hearing about………
synopsis: pranking them that they made you a mother on mother’s day. aged up! characters (boys are in their early to mid-20’s), suggestive content inside, mentions of unprotected sex.
you walked into the kitchen on mother’s day morning while isagi was making coffee with metavision focus. he looked half asleep, hair sticking up everywhere, shirt on inside out somehow.
you leaned against the counter. “aren’t you forgetting something today?”
he blinked. “uh… your drink order?”
“wow.” you let out a dramatic sigh. “on mother’s day, too.”
the mug in his hand stopped midair. “sorry?”
“yeah. because your pullout game is ass.”
silence.
then the mug slipped from his hands and shattered all over the floor.
isagi went FULL PANIC mode. eyes wide. face pale. you could literally see him die and come back to life.
“WHAT.”
he grabbed your shoulders so fast. “are you serious? are you serious right now? wait– no, no, hold on, we used protection– OH SHIT, WE DIDN’T!!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IMMEDIATELY???”
he was pacing now. actually pacing. mumbling soccer-strategy-level calculations under his breath.
“okay. okay. we can do this. i mean we’re young, but not THAT young. i can learn how to braid hair if they’re a girl. wait what if the baby hates soccer. oh my gosh what if i accidentally raise an ipad kid.”
you were CRYING laughing at this point while he was spiraling into fatherhood.
then you finally wheezed out, “yoichi, it was a joke.”
he froze. “a. joke.”
“happy mother’s day to me because your pullout game is ass.”
this man stared at you for five full seconds before sitting directly on the kitchen floor amidst the broken mug shards because his legs gave out.
“i just saw my entire future.”
“and?”
“i looked exhausted.”
itoshi rin
rin was already annoyed because he hated crowded stores and you had dragged him into one for “no reason.”
you were walking around the department store while he pushed the cart with the expression of a divorced father forced into weekend custody.
you suddenly stopped in front of the baby section.
rin narrowed his eyes immediately. “why are we here.”
you picked up a tiny sock. “thought i deserved something for mother’s day.”
“… what.”
“your pullout game is ass by the way.”
rin never gets scared, but this is the one exception.
he literally stopped moving. no blinking. no breathing. just staring at you like you told him his brother wanted to talk and have a heart-to-heart to him. but this might be worse.
“… you’re pregnant?”
you nodded solemnly.
this man looked genuinely offended by reality itself. “that’s impossible.”
“rin.”
“no because i’m careful.”
“apparently not careful enough.”
rin dragged a hand down his face and looked like he was moments away from entering cardiac arrest. then came the pacing. the muttering. the anger.
“this is bad timing.”
“wow.”
“not BAD bad.” he looked horrified at himself immediately after saying that. “i mean, obviously i’d take responsibility.”
he was already mentally rearranging his life. soccer schedules. finances. schools. tiny shin guards.
you could SEE the moment he imagined a toddler with his face staring at him. he looked genuinely terrified.
“what if it looks like sae.”
that’s what broke you. you burst out laughing so hard you had to lean on the cart.
rin slowly squinted. “… you’re lying.”
“happy mother’s day!”
the realization hit him and this man looked READY TO FIGHT. not even relieved first. just annoyed to the point where you might wanna run instead.
“you’re actually the worst person alive.”
meanwhile, five minutes later, while you were in the bathroom, he was still standing in the baby aisle holding the tiny sock because he got emotionally attached to the imaginary child.
itoshi sae
sae was chilling on the couch scrolling through his phone when you casually walked over and sat beside him.
“so what are we doing for me today?”
without looking up, he went, “what do you mean.”
“it’s mother’s day.”
now he looked up. slowly. “and?”
“your pullout game is ass.”
dead silence.
but sae’s face did not change AT ALL which honestly made it scarier. he just stared at you.
“you’re… pregnant.”
“mhm.”
another pause.
then he leaned back against the couch and covered his face with one hand. not dramatically. just deeply, madly irritated.
“you cannot be serious.”
you were fighting for your life trying not to laugh because he sounded like someone had personally inconvenienced him beyond repair.
“sae?”
“one second, i’m thinking.”
“about?”
“how i managed to ruin my own life.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
he pointed at you without looking. “don’t start. obviously i’d take responsibility. i’m just wondering how this happened.”
then came the interrogation.
“did the condom break.”
“we didn’t use one.”
“did you miss a pill.”
“i’m not on birth control.”
“fuck.”
you finally cracked and started laughing.
sae immediately stopped talking. his eyes narrowed. “… bruh.”
“happy mother’s dayyyyy–”
he looked SO pissed for exactly three seconds before sighing and dropping his head back onto the couch.
“i actually believed you.”
“for a hot minute!”
“that’s the embarrassing part.”
then he stared at the ceiling looking genuinely betrayed by himself.
“i was already thinking about how annoying stroller shopping would be.”
nagi seishiro
nagi was lying face down on the bed playing a game on his phone when you walked in dramatically.
“wow.”
“mm?”
“can’t believe you forgot mother’s day.”
without missing a beat, he mumbled into his pillow, “you’re not a mother.”
“well i am now because your pullout game is ass.”
…
then nagi slowly lifted his head like a zombie rising from the grave. “… huh?”
“i’m pregnant.”
his phone slipped directly onto his face.
“OW– wait what.”
you nodded seriously while this man stared at you with the most confused expression known to mankind.
“but i thought… wait… no because we– hold on…”
he genuinely started lagging. like his brain processor overheated.
“there’s gonna be… a baby?”
“yeah.”
“a small one?”
“usually.”
nagi sat up fully now which was already proof he was in crisis mode.
“oh no… that sounds troublesome.”
“WOW.”
“not in a bad way.” he rubbed his face. “just… babies cry a lot.”
then he got weirdly quiet. staring at the floor.
“… would it like soccer?”
you nearly lost it right there because he sounded so concerned. “maybe?”
“what if it thinks i’m lame.”
“it’s a baby.”
“still.”
then he suddenly flopped back onto the bed dramatically. “guess my gaming setup’s gone.”
you burst into laughter. FULL laughter. wheezing.
nagi slowly turned his head toward you. “you’re lying...”
“happy mother’s day!”
there’s a long pause.
then he pulled the blanket over his head completely.
“that was evil. i already started mourning my free time.”
mikage reo
reo was the ONLY one having a normal morning. flowers. breakfast. matching pajamas. this man was thriving.
which made what happened next even funnier.
you smiled sweetly at him while he handed you pancakes. “you know… i should actually be getting extra treatment today.”
reo blinked. “yes, of course, but may i ask why?”
“mother’s day.”
he laughed immediately. “baby, you’re not a moth–”
“your pullout game is ass.”
the smile DROPPED off his face.
“what.”
“surprise!”
reo stared at you in complete horror. then at your stomach. then back at you. then at your stomach AGAIN like he expected ultrasound images to appear through your shirt.
“… you’re pregnant?”
you nodded with the straightest face possible.
reo sat down very slowly.
“okay.” deep breath. “okay.”
this man IMMEDIATELY went into rich-provider mode.
“we’ll need to move.”
“reo–”
“the penthouse isn’t child safe.”
“reo.”
“we need pediatricians. and schools. wait, should we get a night nurse? no, i should learn how to do it myself.”
he was already planning the child’s entire future.
“sorry bae, but no more caffeine and raw fish for now–”
you were shaking trying not to laugh while he genuinely looked emotional.
“reo…”
“no no, i can do this.”
THAT’S when you lost it completely. you started cackling.
reo stopped mid-sentence.
“happy mother’s day!”
he stared at you in betrayal. actual betrayal. like how could you.
“i just started thinking of baby names.”
“WHAT WERE THEY?”
“… you don’t deserve to know after this psychological warfare 🙁”
bachira meguru
bachira was sitting upside down on the couch for absolutely no reason when you walked into the living room holding your phone.
“meguru.”
“hmmm?”
“aren’t you forgetting to celebrate me today?”
he blinked at you upside down. “for what?”
“mother’s day.”
“i texted my mom already, don’t worry. and… you’re not a mom.”
you sighed dramatically. “yeah, but your pullout game is ass, so...”
bachira slowly sat upright. “… eh?”
“i’m pregnant.”
you expected panic. fear. maybe screaming.
instead, this man narrowed his eyes at you like a conspiracy theorist.
“no, you’re not.”
“I JUST–”
“you hallucinated it.”
“… the pregnancy?”
“mhm.” he nodded seriously. “or the test had a ghost line.”
“a WHAT.”
“or maybe your eyes are tricking you. sometimes brains do that.”
he grabbed your shoulders now, completely committed to this nonsense.
“think about it. have you ever actually SEEN a baby form?”
“MEGURU.”
“maybe society made them up.”
you were crying laughing while he looked fully serious. then he suddenly gasped dramatically. “wait.”
“what…”
“did the monster tell you this?”
you collapsed onto the couch. “happy mother’s day, dumbass.”
bachira froze. then immediately pointed at you accusingly. “SEE? fake pregnancy. i knew it.”
“you thought i was hallucinating…”
“and i was right.”
then he started laughing so hard he nearly fell off the couch again.
“you should’ve SEEN your face though. you looked so excited to ruin my life.”
“you were trying to gaslight me out of motherhood.”
“and it almost worked!!”
shidou ryusei
you approached shidou while he was shadowboxing in the kitchen because apparently normal people activities were too boring for him.
“aren’t you forgetting something today?”
“huh?”
“it’s mother’s day.”
he blinked. “okay?”
“your pullout game is ass.”
pause.
then the BIGGEST grin spread across his face.
“… NO WAY.”
you started losing it immediately because instead of fear, this man looked PROUD.
“YOU’RE PREGNANT???”
he grabbed you by the shoulders so fast.
“THAT’S MY DNA BABY!!!”
“RYU???”
“MY SPERM GAME’S ELITE.”
this man was CELEBRATING. chest out. pacing around the kitchen like he’d just won the world cup.
“GENETICS TOO STRONG!!!”
you were doubled over laughing while he kept going.
“no because our kid would actually be unstoppable. tiny demon baby. probably kicks holes in walls by age three.”
“why are you HAPPY.”
“because i’m built different.”
then he stopped suddenly. “wait.”
“what?”
“do babies cost money?”
“YES?”
“oh.”
first moment of fear. finally.
then he immediately shook it off. “whatever. worth it.”
you finally admitted it was a joke and shidou looked genuinely disappointed.
“… so no demon baby?”
“no demon baby.”
he sighed dramatically before pointing at you.
“still though. my pullout game’s probably ass for real.”
“RYUSEI.”
“i’m just saying.”
karasu tabito
karasu was chilling at the table scrolling through his phone when you sat across from him dramatically.
“you know… someone should appreciate me today.”
he didn’t even look up. “for what.”
“mother’s day.”
now he looked up slowly. “… yer not a mother though.”
“you sure about that? your pullout game is ass.”
the silence after that was DEAFENING.
karasu stared at you for so long you almost broke character.
“are ya serious.”
you nodded solemnly.
this man leaned back in his chair and covered his face with one hand.
“fuckkkkk.”
he looked genuinely stressed. not panicked. STRESSED. like a man who just got hit with taxes.
“yer pregnant?”
“mhm.”
“in the middle of my twenties?”
“people do that.”
karasu groaned dramatically. “i’m too young to be sayin’ stuff like ‘don’t eat that off the floor.’”
“a baby is not the same as a dog, tabi.”
then he got suspiciously quiet.
“… wait. did ya take a test?”
“yeah.”
“lemme see it.”
“... i threw it away.”
he squinted immediately. “yer lyin’.”
“what makes you think that?”
“because ya started smilin’ halfway through.”
you burst out laughing and karasu pointed at you instantly. “KNEW IT.”
then he leaned back again shaking his head.
“nah because i actually started thinkin’ about teachin’ a kid algebra.”
“why algebra specifically?”
“if i suffered, then they suffer, too. type shit.”
kaiser michael
kaiser was admiring himself in the mirror. shocking absolutely nobody.
you walked up beside him. “happy mother’s day to me.”
he smirked. “you are aware you are not a mother, yes?”
“well… your pullout game is kinda ass.”
the smirk vanished. INSTANTLY.
“… what.”
“i’m pregnant???”
kaiser stared at you. then at your stomach. then back at you.
and this man literally dropped to his knees.
FULL dramatic collapse. hand over heart. staring into the void. like a mii when they get rejected in tomodachi life.
“this… cannot be happening to me.”
you almost folded right there.
“mihya?”
“a child.” he whispered like it was a curse. “mine.”
he looked genuinely haunted. like a victorian man diagnosed with tuberculosis.
“my career. my sleep schedule. my expensive white furniture…”
“YOUR FURNITURE?”
“do you know what toddlers do to walls?”
then suddenly his expression changed.
“… hold on.”
he looked at you suspiciously. VERY suspiciously.
“you’re smiling too much.”
you started laughing instantly.
kaiser slowly closed his eyes. “you insolent little–”
“happy mother’s day!!!”
he stayed on the floor for another ten seconds in silence.
“i mourned my freedom.”
“you mourned your couch.”
“same thing, piss off.”
ness alexis
ness was making tea while humming to himself when you walked into the kitchen.
“aren’t you forgetting something today?”
he smiled. “good morning to you, too.”
“it’s mother’s day.”
“… yes?”
“your pullout game is ass, nessie.”
the spoon in his hand clattered directly into the sink.
“… what?”
“i’m pregnant.”
ness went WHITE.
“pregnant.”
“mhm.”
this poor man immediately started spiraling. “oh my gosh.”
he grabbed the counter for support. SUPPORT.
“oh my gosh.”
“nessie baby?”
“no. i’m too emotionally unstable to raise a child.”
you were already laughing.
“i can barely keep a cactus alive!”
then suddenly he looked at you with HUGE worried eyes.
“wait… aren’t you scared?”
THAT almost made you feel bad because he looked so sincere. already ready to comfort you while actively dying inside.
“we’d figure it out,” he mumbled nervously. “probably.”
“probably?”
“i’m trying my best here!”
then you finally cracked and started cackling.
ness froze immediately. “… you have to be kidding me.”
“happy mother’s day!”
he stared at you in complete betrayal before dramatically slumping over the counter.
“i just accepted fatherhood in under two minutes.”
“you were doing amazing.”
“i almost threw up.”
bunny iglesias
bunny was half listening to you while scrolling through football edits of himself on his phone. not even his own highlights. literally edits with slowed down audios and comments thirsting over him.
“bunny baby.”
“mm?”
“aren’t you forgetting to celebrate me today?”
“for what, princesa?”
“mother’s day.”
he finally looked up. one eyebrow raised. “you’re not a mother. yet, at least.”
you sighed dramatically. “i am now because your pullout game is ass.”
silence.
then this man BLINKED. slowly.
“… excuse me?”
“estoy embarazada (i’m pregnant).”
his phone slipped out of his hand onto the floor. neither of you acknowledged it.
bunny stared at you like his soul just disconnected from the server.
“… pregnant.”
“mhm.”
another pause.
then he stood up so abruptly the chair screeched against the floor.
“okay.”
“okay?”
“okay.” he was pacing now. “we can work with this.”
WORK WITH THIS??? like you just told him the restaurant got his order wrong 😭
you were trying SO hard not to laugh while he ran both hands through his hair.
“i mean… damn.”
“that’s all you have to say?”
“NO because i’m thinking.” he pointed at you seriously. “this is a life-changing event.”
then came the panic spiral.
“wait wait wait. am i mature enough to be somebody’s father?”
“absolutely not.”
“i knew it. i’m too melancholic.”
he looked genuinely distressed now.
“what if the baby gets my ego.”
“then society’s finished.”
“exactly.”
then suddenly he froze. eyes widening. “dios mío.”
“what?”
“what if it grows up to support real madrid.”
you BURST out laughing immediately. fully bent over wheezing while bunny stared at you suspiciously.
“why are you laughing like that.”
“happy mother’s dayyyy!”
his jaw dropped. “you little liar.”
“you believed me!”
“because you looked serious!”
he picked up a couch pillow and threw it at you dramatically.
“i was mentally preparing to become a dilf at 25!”
“AT LEAST YOU ADMIT YOU’D BE A DILF.”
bunny paused. fixed his shirt. grinned immediately.
a/n: guess who is moving to japan in mid-august 🤓☝🏻
synopsis: how the internet catches them having a crush on you, celebrity!reader (maybe you’re a youtuber, influencer, socialite, entrepreneur??) except you’ve never met or talked to them before, only know that they’re a very famous pro soccer player. niche prompt…?
isagi gets caught because he is physically incapable of acting normal around your content. like… genuinely.
he starts out innocent enough, such as watching your youtube interviews before games because “they’re motivating.”
then suddenly fans notice he’s liking edits of you within 30 seconds of posting. not even subtle edits either. the hot edits with cool transitions and unreleased the weeknd audios.
and the internet notices FAST.
especially because isagi is the type to accidentally expose himself through pattern recognition. one fan on soccer twitter literally makes a thread titled: “evidence that isagi yoichi is in love with [name].”
and the thread is DEVASTATING:
it includes: him only following 12 people on instagram and you are one of them, him liking every single post where you smile, him once scoring a goal then immediately doing the exact hand gesture you did in a vlog two days earlier, him mentioning your entrepreneur skincare brand in a random interview when nobody asked.
“what’s your post-game routine?”
“oh, uh… i use [name]’s moisturizer sometimes.”
“…?”
meanwhile he realizes what he said three full seconds too late and starts malfunctioning in real time.
the clip goes viral.
his teammates are evil about it, too. bachira keeps repeating your youtube intro song in the locker room. reo starts calling him “subscriber-san.” rin tells him to stop staring at his phone with “that pathetic look on your face.”
the worst part is when a paparazzi catches isagi at the airport wearing your hoodie collab you made with stüssy.
YOUR HOODIE BTW.
not only that, but it’s sold out online. fans realize he probably waited for the drop like everyone else.
suddenly, hashtags like “#ISAGI[NAME]DEFENDER” start trending because he also once liked a tweet defending you from hate comments at 1 AM.
and when someone asks if you two are dating? he nearly chokes on water during a livestream.
“w-what?! no! i’ve literally never met her! … yet…”
which somehow makes it worse because now everyone knows this man fell in love through a screen.
itoshi rin
rin gets exposed against his will because he thinks he’s being subtle when he absolutely is not.
he never follows celebrities. ever. his feed is empty, clean, emotionless.
then one day, people notice he follows exactly one female influencer account: you.
and suddenly the internet turns into the FBI.
fans start zooming into reflections in his sunglasses during airport photos and realize he’s watching your videos on his phone.
there’s also an interview where his search history briefly pops up when he’s screen sharing something for a sponsorship.
the first search? “[name] favorite movies.”
the second? “does [name] have a boyfriend.”
he closes the tab so fast.
the clip spreads across tik tok at lightspeed with captions like:
“HE’S JUST LIKE ME.” “RIN ITOSHI DIGITAL FOOTPRINT NEVER LIES.” “THIS MAN IS DOWN HORRENDOUS.”
rin pretends not to care, but it gets worse because fans start noticing he unconsciously copies little things from you.
you once mentioned liking silver jewelry stacked on hands, and suddenly, rin is wearing rings in every photoshoot.
you said rainy days help you think creatively and this man posts a picture of rain on his story for the first time in his life.
his fans are losing their minds because this is the same rin who usually looks like he wants to fistfight human interaction.
then someone edits together clips of rin softening whenever interviewers mention you.
“which celebrities do you know?” “… i know of her.”
the pause before answering? just pack it up, bro.
and rin’s absolutely terrible at handling it because every time reporters ask about you, he looks annoyed in that very specific way people look when they’re trying to hide embarrassment.
which only confirms everything.
the final nail in the coffin is when your livestream chat starts spamming: “RIN ITOSHI IS WATCHING THIS BTW.”
and you laugh like, “wait, the soccer player?”
meanwhile somewhere across the world, rin is staring at his screen in complete silence, considering how he’s going to delete the internet entirely.
itoshi sae
sae gets caught because he has the terrifying disease known as, um… “quiet rich man obsession.”
he doesn’t publicly interact with you at all. no follows. no likes. nothing (which honestly makes it worse).
fans only discover it after a spanish interviewer casually asks him which creators he watches in his free time and sae – who normally gives interviews like he’s being held hostage – suddenly answers with actual detail.
“[name]’s content is interesting.”
the room goes silent because INTERESTING??? from sae itoshi??? that’s basically a love confession.
then he keeps talking.
“she’s intelligent. her business decisions are impressive.”
brother why do you know her business strategies.
people immediately clip it and now everyone’s investigating. they discover he’s been spotted multiple times carrying products from your luxury brand. then your fans realize someone anonymous has been buying out limited edition launches within minutes every release.
guess who.
it becomes even funnier because sae clearly thinks he’s being private. meanwhile he’s doing things like: showing up to events you might attend. standing suspiciously close to your section during fashion week. once turning his head so fast during a red carpet interview because he heard your laugh nearby.
that clip gets slowed down frame by frame by fans like it’s sports analysis.
and sae’s problem is that he’s too composed. he never denies anything. he just gives reporters this calm expression that somehow screams “mind your business.”
which makes the internet spiral harder.
then one day you mention in a podcast: “i don’t really watch sports, but there’s this one soccer player who seems cool.”
THE INTERNET EXPLODES.
sae sees the clip and for the first time in recorded history, shidou witnesses this man smiling at his phone.
he immediately starts screaming. “GAH DAYUM HOW DO I GET YOU WRAPPED AROUND MY FINGER LIKE THAT???”
nagi seishiro
nagi gets caught because he literally falls asleep watching your livestreams.
reo exposes him by accident.
they’re doing a casual gaming stream together and viewers suddenly notice nagi’s phone propped beside him with your stream playing quietly in the corner. your voice is softly talking about skincare or what fictional men you would definitely date while this man is half-asleep listening like it’s a bedtime story.
chat instantly starts spamming:
“IS THAT [NAME]???” “HELPPPPP” “NAGI WAKE UP YOU’RE EXPOSED”
reo notices too late and starts crying laughing while nagi slowly blinks at the camera.
“oh… yeah. i watch her.”
except he forgot to mention he watches your content daily and religiously.
fans later compile evidence that: nagi somehow knows obscure lore about your life, he once referenced a joke from your second channel nobody remembers, his recommended youtube page during a vlog was literally all your videos, he owns a volume of your favorite manga and uses it as a mousepad support because “it’s sturdy.”
he also starts accidentally quoting you. you once said “work smarter, not harder” and suddenly nagi’s saying it in interviews like it’s philosophy.
the funniest part is that he genuinely doesn’t understand why everyone thinks it’s a big deal.
“i just like her.” “you watched her 6-hour charity stream from beginning to end.” “yeah. she’s funny.” “you donated $10,000.” “… she said thank you.”
reo is in tears because nagi says all of this with the same tone someone would use discussing grocery shopping.
then you react to an edit compilation titled: “nagi being the president of [name] nation.”
and you laugh so hard you wheeze and kinda snort out your entire drink everywhere.
nagi clips that reaction and saves it immediately.
mikage reo
reo gets exposed because people with a billion dollars to their fucking name are physically incapable of being discreet when they have a crush i guess.
it starts when fans realize he attends an alarming amount of events connected to you. brand launches? there. charity gala? there. random influencer boxing match you attended for fun? somehow there, too.
people joke that he appears like a summoned entity whenever your name is mentioned.
then one fan makes the horrifying realization that reo has been investing in companies connected to you.
“wait… didn’t [name] mention wanting to expand into fashion?”
cut to reo casually funding a luxury textile startup three weeks later.
this man treats crushing like a corporate merger.
he also reposts your achievements constantly. you hit 10 million subscribers? story repost. you launch a new business? repost. you post a blurry sunset picture with no caption? somehow reposted with a white heart.
fans are clawing at the walls.
and reo is SMOOTH about it, too. he doesn’t act embarrassed. he acts like your biggest shareholder.
“she’s talented. supporting talented people is normal. especially in the business world.” meanwhile nagi is beside him like: “you changed your lockscreen again.” “bro stop, people are already on my case I BEG.”
then the internet catches the biggest piece of evidence of all.
during an interview, reo gets asked: “which celebrity would you want to collaborate with?”
without hesitation: “[name].”
immediate answer. no thinking. no pause. terrifying.
then he keeps going. “i think her vision is refreshing. she’s hardworking, creative, ambitious–”
the reporter did not ask for an analysis of your character, but they’re nodding along.
this is when fans start calling him “linkedin boyfriend.”
it fits so perfectly.
the funniest part is you genuinely have no clue any of this is happening until your manager casually goes: “so apparently, one of the world’s most famous soccer players is in love with you.”
and you’re just sitting there like: “… the one with purple hair?”
bachira meguru
bachira gets caught because he treats his crush on you like a community activity. there is no shame. no secrecy. no survival instinct whatsoever.
it starts during an interview when someone asks what he watches to relax before games and he goes: “oh! [name]’s videos. she makes me happy.”
HAPPY.
the interviewer blinks because bachira says it with the same dreamy expression people use when talking about soulmates in romance movies.
and from there it only spirals.
he starts mentioning you constantly in completely unrelated conversations.
“what inspired your assist today?” “hmm… [name] uploaded while i was stretching.” SO THOSE CORRELATE??
then fans realize he comments on your posts like a proud golden retriever boyfriend despite the fact you’ve never met.
not thirsty comments either. somehow worse.
things like:
“you worked hard today!!!” “this color suits you so much :)” “don’t forget to rest <3”
and because he’s verified, your fans start losing their minds every single time.
eventually, compilations start popping up titled: “bachira being [name]’s emotional support subscriber for 8 minutes straight.”
he watches your livestreams while doing literally everything. stretching, eating, getting his hair dyed. once he accidentally opens your stream during HIS OWN livestream and smiles unconsciously when he hears your voice.
“oh. hi, [name].”
LIKE YOU TWO ARE FRIENDS.
chat goes feral immediately.
the final death blow happens when you post a vlog trying soccer for fun and bachira uploads an instagram story 30 seconds later screaming: “YOU DID SO GOOD!!!!!!” with seven exclamation points and yellow emojis.
everyone collectively decides he has the cutest celebrity crush alive.
shidou ryusei
shidou gets exposed because subtlety has never existed in his bloodstream.
this man sees one interview clip of you laughing and immediately becomes UNBEARABLE online.
he follows you on every platform within 10 minutes. likes posts from 3 years ago. comments things that sound vaguely illegal.
“YOU’RE SO HOT IT’S MAKING MY HEART BENCH PRESS.”
people don’t even know how to process him.
then during an interview, he gets shown a photo of you for one of those “smash or pass” type games and instead of answering normally he leans forward like he’s receiving divine revelation.
“oh THAT’S my wife.”
the room ERUPTS.
the clip gets reposted everywhere because he says it with such confidence that even the interviewer starts doubting reality.
and shidou genuinely does not care about hiding his obsession. he reposts your selfies with captions like:
“MOTHERRRRR” “SHE’S EVERYTHING TO ME” “[NAME] NOTICE ME AND MY LIFE IS YOURS”
sae blocks him temporarily after shidou sends him 17 screenshots of your latest photoshoot at 3 AM.
it becomes even funnier because your fans start recognizing his username in comments sections. they’ll open your newest post and there he is within 6 seconds.
“GOOD HEAVENS.” “THIS DRESS IS KILLING ME.” “BARK BARK BARK–”
eventually, paparazzi catch him watching your youtube videos before a match and smiling like it’s cinema.
the internet unanimously agrees that shidou does not have a crush.
he has a full-time occupation.
karasu tabito
karasu gets caught because he talks about you the way finance bros talk about startup investments.
he first mentions you on a podcast.
“[name]? she’s smart as hell.”
people don’t think much of it until he keeps going.
“most influencers don’t know how to market longevity. she does.”
why is this man analyzing your business model like a university lecture…
suddenly, fans realize karasu has consumed every interview you’ve ever done. he references obscure details from old podcasts. he knows your favorite coffee order. he once quoted something you tweeted in 2021.
and because karasu’s naturally teasing, people can physically SEE the difference in how he talks about you versus everyone else.
usually he sounds smug and amused. when talking about you? bro suddenly sounds sincere. horrifying.
then someone catches him liking a fan edit of you with the caption: “she could ruin my life.”
which becomes ten times funnier because karasu unlikes it three minutes later after realizing.
too late. screenshots exist forever.
the internet also notices he gets weirdly defensive when people insult you.
during one livestream, somebody comments: “[name] kinda overrated.”
karasu pauses the entire stream.
“nah. y’all just hate successful women.”
the silence afterward is deafening because WHOA???
he then continues gaming like he didn’t just expose his soul.
fans nickname him “podcast boyfriend” because every time he talks about you it sounds like he’s halfway through falling in love during an intellectual debate.
kaiser michael
kaiser gets caught because he’s too pretty and dramatic to function discreetly.
he first discovers you through an interview clip and suddenly you become his favorite person to observe.
not interact with. observe.
he never comments. never likes publicly. but eagle-eyed fans begin noticing strange things: he starts attending luxury events you’re rumored to be at. photographers catch him looking directly at you in the background of pictures. his spotify playlist suddenly includes songs you publicly said you liked. he once wore a necklace suspiciously similar to one from your brand launch.
and the thing about kaiser is that he acts like he’s above celebrity crushes while actively behaving like a victorian man yearning through a window.
then comes the fatal mistake.
during a livestream, ness accidentally opens kaiser’s private pinterest board.
the title? “visions.”
the contents? YOU.
your editorials. your outfits. aesthetic photos that remind him of you. random quotes you’ve posted. it genuinely looks like the moodboard of a man writing poetry under moonlight.
ness closes it so fast, but the damage is DONE.
fans are screaming because michael kaiser – ego the size of a supergiant star – apparently spends his free time curating a digital shrine for a woman he’s never spoken to.
and kaiser somehow makes it worse because when reporters ask him about it he just grins.
“can you blame me?”
OH BROTHER.
the internet collapses immediately.
he also starts doing this thing where he watches your interviews with this tiny amused smile like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. fans catch it during behind-the-scenes clips and lose their minds because kaiser literally never looks at people that softly.
ness, meanwhile, is fighting for his life in the background.
ness alexis
ness gets exposed in the most humiliating way possible because he accidentally turns into your biggest fan account.
it begins innocently. he follows you because you’re “interesting.”
then fans notice he’s in your comments constantly.
not flirting either. somehow even more embarrassing.
he writes PARAGRAPHS.
the starter sentences are always like:
“your perspective on creative discipline is truly inspiring.” “the lighting in this video beautifully reflects your emotional transparency.”
WHO TALKS LIKE THIS.
people start joking that he comments like a literature student trying to impress his professor.
then one day somebody discovers a secret: ness runs a fan account. a FULL fan account.
nobody knows it’s him at first because the username is something vague and anonymous. but then during a livestream he accidentally logs into it on screen for 2 seconds.
…
before chat explodes.
because this account has: archived clips of your livestreams. organized playlists of your interviews. captions defending you from criticism like he’s your lawyer. edits with glitter transitions and that sparkling wand effect.
ness nearly dies on the spot.
kaiser is crying laughing beside him while ness is trying to end the stream with shaking hands.
and the thing is? the fan account is genuinely dedicated. terrifyingly dedicated. there are timestamps. color-coordinated highlights. thoughtful captions analyzing your growth as a creator.
fans start calling him “employee of the month.”
it gets even worse when someone finds tweets from the account saying: “her smile today seemed tired. i hope she rests well.”
like okay, everyone just stopped breathing.
and somewhere out there, you’re just casually posting skincare routines while one german midfielder is accidentally becoming your strongest soldier online.
he was lying in bed while you were in the shower, his own phone dead, boredom slowly consuming him.
"love," he called. "can i use your phone for a sec? i wanna look something up."
"yeah! password's the same,” you responded.
big mistake.
he opens your phone and gets distracted by a notification from tik tok.
"edited 3h ago • kaisagi enemies to lovers."
"..."
he shouldn't. he really, really shouldn't.
5 minutes later, he's somehow on your liked videos. and he’s talking to himself like "... why is this just me with other men."
you come back drying your hair with a towel. "yoichi?"
he slowly turns the phone toward you. it's an edit. him and rin. every clip out of context deliberately looks like rin wants to eat him. caption: "he wanted that damn cookie he don’t gaf about being number one."
"is there... something you want to tell me?"
you blink. "... oh. OH. yoichi, i can explain."
"please do."
"i just think it's funny."
"you've liked 33."
"..."
"AND THEY’RE ALL IN A WHOLE ASS FOLDER NAMED ‘don’t let him find out.’"
"they're well edited..."
"is THAT what we're calling it?"
he scrolls. kaisagi. rinsagi. bachisagi. even one with barou.
"mind you, that’s the guy who called me a donkey."
"yes."
"... and you liked that one, too?"
"the editor cooked."
he spends the next 10 minutes acting like he's getting shot.
"so while i'm sending you good morning texts… you're watching me make heart eyes at rin?"
"well, TV girl was the song choice–"
he starts dramatically sighing every few minutes.
"what's wrong?"
"just wondering if i'm enough."
"yoichi."
"or if i should ask rin out."
"YOICHI."
eventually, he starts watching them with you. his mind starts changing by the 5th edit.
"... okay wait, this transition was actually insane."
itoshi rin
rin discovers it because he hears your phone. he wasn't even looking. he just hears music. you'd left your phone on autoplay while cooking.
he walks into the kitchen, looks at the screen… it's an edit of him… and shidou.
"rin, you weren’t supposed to see that," says you, who is currently hitting the standing emoji pose.
he slowly looks at you. "... why. why are you watching this."
"..."
"... it's got 2 million likes?"
"that’s not the point."
he grabs your phone and starts scrolling. you watch in real time as his expression somehow gets worse. him and isagi. him and shidou again. him and literally every man who's breathed near him.
"am i just community property?"
"RIN."
"why do these people think i flirt."
"because you glare at each other for the entire game."
"that's called hatred."
"it's got chemistry."
"IT DOESN'T."
he opens the comments.
"my divorced parents."
"they're soulmates."
"just kiss already."
you are laughing so hard you're crying.
rin narrows his eyes. “you liked these edits. AND the comments."
"the edits are really good. and the comments are funny."
he sighs. “you're unbelievable."
later that night, he catches you giggling again. "what."
"nothing nothing."
"show me."
"no."
he takes your phone. it's another edit. this time it's him and isagi standing too close during a match. slowed. zoomed in. lana as the audio for that extra devastating effect.
"... they edited the eye contact."
"IT LOOKED ROMANTIC."
"IT WASN'T."
"..."
"... the coloring's nice at least."
itoshi sae
sae finds out because he accidentally opens your twitter.
he wasn't digging through your phone. he was actually trying to send himself a picture. but, instead he sees–
❤️ liked. fanart. him and shidou. sharing one umbrella.
he blinks once. twice. three times. then calmly locks your phone.
when you come back he asks, completely expressionless, "do you enjoy fictionalizing my suffering.”
you nearly choke. “sorry…?"
he slides your phone across the table. you immediately recognize the artwork.
"... sae, listen."
"i am.”
“... the artist is really talented."
"that's your defense?"
"LOOK AT THE RENDERING."
he scrolls more. and more. and more.
"there are hundreds."
"i support artists."
"no shit." he raises one eyebrow. "i wasn't aware people believed i was romantically compatible with every striker alive."
"well..."
"don't."
"the tension."
"there is no tension."
"there's eye contact."
"that's called existing."
he keeps pretending not to care, absolutely stone-faced. until–
"which one's your favorite."
"... what?”
"which ship."
"i... i refuse to answer."
"interesting."
"sae."
"because refusing implies there IS one."
"... i gotta go..."
you never let him live it down.
nagi seishiro
nagi doesn't even get jealous. he gets invested.
he's lying on your shoulder while you're scrolling. then he absentmindedly glances down.
"is that me."
"yeah."
"... why am i holding reo's face."
"... fanart." you mumble it so quietly that you hope he doesn’t hear you. but he does.
"that’s cute."
you stop. "you're not concerned?"
"should i be?”
he scrolls. another one. another. another.
"wow, people draw really well."
"that's your takeaway?"
"yeah."
he suddenly gasps. "wait."
"what?"
"they made me taller."
"... that's what you're focused on?"
he spends the next 20 minutes rating fanart. "this one's an 8."
"why?”
"my hair's wrong."
"okay..."
"this one's 10."
"because?"
"they made me prettier. specifically my eyes."
"..."
"this one's weird."
"why?"
"i'd never wear that fit."
reo walks in. "what are you two doing?"
nagi casually answers, "looking at people shipping us. nagireo is more popular than i thought it was."
reo chokes on air. "YOU'RE WHAT?"
mikage reo
reo discovers your pinterest board. the board title? "men who should've kissed."
he clicks out of curiosity. it's literally 99% him and nagi.
and i mean fanart. edits. memes. analysis posts. the board description is literally: "your honor, they're in love."
he calls for you immediately. "baby."
"yeah?"
“... care to explain."
you look over and freeze. "... that's private, reo."
"then why is it a public board on your account??"
he scrolls furiously. "this board has 500 pins."
"..."
"LIKE 450 OF THEM ARE ME."
"...”
"... with nagi."
you nod. "the artists are really talented."
"again with the artists."
"LOOK AT THE LIGHTING."
reo pinches the bridge of his nose. "do i need to compete with my best friend."
"you already lost."
"excuse me?"
"the edits hit."
he gasps so dramatically you'd think you'd confessed to tax fraud. "wow. wow. after everything i've done for you."
"reo."
"i buy you flowers. i fly you to paris. and this is how i find out i'm in a situationship with nagi."
he refuses to let it go.
for the next week he randomly asks, "did nagi send you flowers today? did your other boyfriend remember your anniversary? should i leave you two alone?"
eventually, curiosity wins. he starts reading the comments. and actually finds them quite funny.
you grin. "i know, right?"
"... don't tell nagi."
"too late."
nagi already knows. he liked the post, too.
bachira meguru
bachira catches you because you're sitting on the couch absolutely cackling. not giggling. not smiling. crying laughing.
he flops down beside you with zero regard for personal space. "whatcha watching?"
"nothing, bubs."
"that's a lie."
he leans over your shoulder before you can lock your phone. "... oh!”
it's an edit of him and isagi with one of those doomed ship audios (ricky montgomery probably). every assist they've ever made to each other is edited like a confession scene.
"he found the monster in someone else."
"soulmates separated by fate."
bachira watches the whole thing. "awww."
you slowly look at him. "awww?"
"it’s kinda sweet. the editor really understood the emotional narrative."
"MEGURU."
"what?"
"you're supposed to be jealous!"
"why?"
"because i'm watching edits of you being in love with another man."
"mmm... but i'm not. also, they picked really good clips."
he reaches over. scrolls. there’s more edits. him and isagi mostly. him and rin. him and otoya. him and literally anyone who's smiled at him.
"wow. i'm popular."
you stare. "... that's your conclusion?"
"yeah!"
he keeps watching. every few videos, he gives actual feedback. "they should've used the U-20 match here." or "this transition's clean." or "aw, they made us blush."
“it’s an edit."
"i know. it's cute."
you eventually bury your face in a pillow.
bachira laughs. "hey."
"what."
he grins. "find one where i end up with you instead."
"..."
"those are my absolute favorites."
shidou ryusei
this man discovers your likes. and immediately assumes the worst.
"WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY?"
"ryusei."
"WHY ARE YOU LIKING HIM?"
"... that's you."
"... oh." he squints. "why am i kissing sae."
he starts scrolling. his eyebrows somehow climb higher with every swipe.
him and sae. him and rin. him and kunigami. him and literally every player who has ever looked mildly annoyed around him.
"damn. people think i'm a whore."
"no, they think you have chemistry with everyone."
"eh, same thing."
he opens the comments.
"they flirt through attempted murder."
"enemies to lovers speedrun."
shidou snorts. "that's kinda funny."
you blink. "you're not mad?"
"nope."
"..."
"although." he suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulders. "you could've just asked."
"asked what?”
"i'll recreate the poses."
"WHAT?"
"come on." he points at a piece of fanart. "i can carry sae like that."
"RYUSEI."
"actually." he thinks. "nahhh. he'd complain."
he scrolls again.
"THIS ARTIST MADE MY ABS LOOK SMALL."
now that's the real issue.
karasu tabito
karasu catches you because you're sitting across from him on a train, smiling at your phone like somebody in love.
"who’s got ya grinnin' like that?"
"nobody."
"lemme see."
"no.”
“that's exactly why i wanna see."
he reaches over. you fail spectacularly at hiding it. and he catches one frame: him and otoya. holding hands.
"..."
"... seriously?"
you sigh. "i can explain."
"can ya?"
he takes the phone and begins to scroll.
“geez… i'm gettin' passed around."
"tabito–"
"me and otoya. me and hiori. me and shidou. me and yukimiya. hell, somebody even got me with barou."
you burst into laughter.
karasu clicks another edit. it's one of those silly overanalyzed videos with arrows, zoom-ins, and ironic captions: "notice how karasu looked at otoya for 0.8 seconds longer than everyone else..."
"... these people got too much free time."
"..."
“keep playin'."
you do. 5 minutes later–
"okay… that stare did look suspicious."
"SEE?"
he points at the screen. "that's bad camera angles tho.”
after 15 minutes of this, he shakes his head, laughing.
"can't believe my own girl ships me with my coworker."
kaiser michael
kaiser finds your secret twitter bookmark folder. its name? "yaoi national archives."
"... bitte (pardon)?"
your fight or flight kicks in. "give me my phone."
he doesn't. he does the complete opposite: he opens it. first bookmark: kaiser and isagi. second: kaiser and ness. third: kaiser and literally everyone breathing.
he looks at you. then the phone. then you again.
"... am i... the main character?"
"yes."
"... good."
"THAT'S YOUR RESPONSE?"
he sits down, crosses one leg over the other, and begins watching. he doesn't even pretend he isn't interested.
"hm."
"..."
"this editor understands my good side."
"mihya, please."
"they used my left profile, which is objectively correct. after all, why do you think i got my tattoo done on that side instead?"
he keeps scrolling. you slowly begin sweating. because eventually, he finds the fanart. it's him and ness dancing. soft smiles. foreheads touching. golden lighting.
he quietly studies it. finally, after a moment: "that's beautiful."
"... you really think so?"
"the composition."
you exhale. "thank god."
he looks over. "don't misunderstand. i'm complimenting the artist."
"..."
"although i do look incredibly attractive."
"you are unbelievable."
he smirks. "tell me."
"tell you what."
"which ship wins."
"... i plead the fifth."
he smiles. "good answer."
ness alexis
ness finds out. and this boy immediately enters the 5 stages of grief.
"what… what is this."
you slowly look up. "... oh. oh no."
he's holding your phone with trembling hands. on the screen? a kaisagi edit with 300,000 likes.
"... schönste, you liked this?" his tone quivers with betrayal.
"... yes."
he keeps scrolling. another. another. another.
"why."
"they're well edited."
"STOP SAYING THAT."
he looks genuinely distraught. "kaiser would never."
then he opens the comments, which is the killer blow.
"the actual look of love.”
“KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE.”
he frowns. "you should block all these accounts."
you try so hard not to laugh. he keeps scrolling anyway.
eventually, he lands on… kaiser. and himself. it’s fanart. beautifully painted with a watercolor effect. they're laughing together.
he studies it for another few seconds. "... their coloring technique is incredible."
you grin. "right?"
"... don't tell kaiser i said that."
"why?"
"because then he'll think i was looking."
“nessie bear."
"..."
"you've been scrolling for 20 minutes."
"... i'm conducting research."
"on what?"
"... the fandom."
he absolutely starts sending you fanart afterward. always with the same caption: "the anatomy here is objectively impressive. ignore the subject matter."
isagi and rin are doing some sponsored stream together. they've already been arguing for 40 minutes. the sponsor is probably crying.
rin is being particularly annoying that day. every answer is somehow an insult. every sentence is somehow directed at isagi.
finally rin goes: "you only look smart because everyone around you is stupid."
chat collectively goes: ooooooooh.
isagi doesn't even blink. or hesitate. or think.
he immediately replies: "and somehow you still can't keep up. am i stuck in your head 25/8? is that what’s making you stupid?"
silence. complete silence.
rin is acting like someone unplugged him.
the chat notices before isagi does. because rin… has no comeback. none. nein. zero. he just stares.
the clip zooms in on his face. people genuinely think the stream lagged.
isagi finally notices. "... did i kill him?"
the chat explodes.
RIN SPEECHLESS COMPILATION WHEN???
HE FINALLY MET HIS MATCH.
ISAGI WON THE ARGUMENT. THE PROPHECY IS TRUE.
to this day, people still use the clip as a reaction meme.
itoshi rin – i know dada
rin is streaming alone. mistake #1.
someone donates and asks: "how does it feel knowing all the comments on your 18th birthday post say 'dada'?"
rin looks disgusted. "what the hell are you talking about?"
chat starts spamming.
CHECK THE POST.
GO LOOK.
PLEASE.
rin, unfortunately, checks. he opens his recent birthday post. and then… you can literally watch the life leave his eyes.
because the comments are exactly what chat said. no congratulations. no happy birthday. not even anything related to soccer. just thousands upon thousands of:
dada
happy birthday dada
good morning dada
i love you dada
father
are you single?
rin scrolls. it gets worse. he scrolls again. it somehow gets EVEN WORSE.
the entire stream watches him process this information in real time.
"what is wrong with you people?"
more comments appear like: HE SAID SOMETHING. DADA SPOKE.
rin almost drops his phone. "stop saying that."
YES DADA.
"i'm blocking all of you."
OUR DADA WOULD NEVER.
he ends the stream early.
the clip reaches every social media platform imaginable.
for months afterward, every post he makes gets flooded with "dada."
he never truly recovers.
itoshi sae – the triplets curse
sae is streaming. rin appears because i enjoy their suffering. the brothers are already arguing.
then chat starts asking weird questions.
one comment says: "sae would be a terrible dad."
sae shrugs. "probably."
rin immediately says, "don't worry. you'll find out."
sae narrows his eyes. "what?"
rin deadpans. "i curse you with triplets."
the reaction is instant and violent. sae's entire nonchalant persona evaporates.
"TAKE THAT BACK."
chat loses it. this is the first genuine panic they've ever heard from him.
"take what back?"
"WHAT ELSE? THE TRIPLETS."
rin starts laughing. actually laughing. which is somehow rarer.
sae is horrified. "why would you say that?"
"because it's funny."
"IT'S NOT FUNNY."
"it is."
"RIN."
chat is crying.
sae spends the next ten minutes trying to negotiate with him. "you don't even know how curses work."
"doesn't matter."
"undo it."
"no."
"UNDO. IT."
people clip the entire conversation.
everyone becomes obsessed with the fact that triplets specifically was what broke him. now they know his biggest fear.
nagi seishiro – sleep talking
nagi is streaming. but this time, he's exhausted.
he's laying on his bed playing a game. half answering chat. half asleep. eventually he says: "i'm not tired."
five minutes later, he's knocked out. completely unconscious. controller still in his hand.
chat thinks it's hilarious. they start taking screenshots. making memes. the usual.
until nagi starts talking in his sleep.
and chat immediately shuts up.
because the first thing he says is: "... don't take my fries…”
a pause.
then: "... that's my pillow..."
another pause.
then: "... pretty..."
chat loses it.
WHO IS PRETTY.
NAGI WAKE UP.
WHO ARE WE TALKING ABOUT.
nagi continues eeping, completely unaware.
then comes the line that gets clipped everywhere. a small sleepy smile appears on his face. and he mumbles: "... wanna marry ‘em..."
the chat explodes so violently that it probably registered as a natural disaster.
EXCUSE ME????
WHO IS THEM????
WHO IS GETTING PROPOSED TO????
NAGI SEISHIRO ANSWER THE QUESTION.
he sleeps through the entire thing for another 20 minutes.
the stream ends automatically. but the clip gets millions of views.
nagi wakes up the next day to discover the internet believes he's secretly in love.
his response? "... that's troublesome."
which doesn’t make it any better at all.
mikage reo – “my boyfriend–”
reo and nagi are doing a chill gaming stream together. nothing unusual. reo is carrying the entire stream organization on his back as always while nagi is physically present, but spiritually loading at maybe 3%.
everything is normal until reo says: "guys, give nagi a second. my boyfrie–"
he freezes.
the chat freezes.
nagi looks up from his phone for the first time in 15 minutes.
"your what…?"
reo's soul leaves his body.
"BEST FRIEND. I SAID BEST FRIEND."
the chat instantly clocks out of reality.
MY BOYFRIEND?????
REO EXPOSED???
CLIP IT. CLIP IT. CLIP IT.
HE DID NOT STUTTER.
reo is sweating. nagi is staring at him.
"you looked pretty confident the first time."
"nagi, please."
"you've called me worse."
"WE’RE STILL LIVE."
the clip gets 30 million views.
the comments become a war zone. half the internet is convinced they secretly got married. the other half is convinced reo accidentally leaked a 10-year situationship.
nagi likes exactly one edit of the clip.
reo nearly passes away. his PR team is working overtime.
bachira meguru – he’s actually REALLY good at karaoke???
bachira starts the stream because chat convinced him to do karaoke.
everyone expects disaster. because… bachira is bachira.
people are expecting him to scream lyrics, forget words halfway through, start beatboxing for no reason, maybe get distracted by a fly. normal bachira behavior.
instead… he starts singing. “dangerous woman” by ariana grande.
and the entire chat blows up. because he's actually insane. like genuinely good. UNFAIRLY good. where did this come from???
the comments go from joking around to:
WAIT.
HOLD ON.
WHY IS HE GOOD???
DAMN I NEED A MONSTER TOO.
bachira's completely oblivious. he's just having a good time.
and the chat is just having a collective identity crisis.
then the real viral moment happens. someone donates: "bet you can't sing a heartbreak song seriously."
bachira shrugs. "bet."
big mistake. he picks “my all” by mariah carey.
suddenly, this man starts singing like he just got divorced, lost custody of the kids, got fired, and watched his dog leave him all in the same week.
chat is STUNNED.
where did these vocals come from???
why is there emotion???
do i need to text my ex– (a/n: pls don’t.)
people start clipping it.
football fans who have never voluntarily listened to music before are posting: "oh so he’d DESTROY me in soccer AND karaoke."
the clip reaches non-blue lock fans. then non-football fans. then random music communities.
eventually, the comments become:
wrong career.
put him in a studio immediately!!!
he should be an IDOL.
bachira spends the next week confused because everyone keeps asking him for an album.
shidou ryusei – his search history
shidou is streaming. which is already a public safety concern.
he's answering questions, being loud, being annoying, being shidou.
then someone asks him to pull up a video... and he ends up clicking the search bar by accident.
now the entire stream can see his recent searches.
the first one is: "how to take a shit at someone else's house.”
chat immediately folds.
WHAT?
shidou squints at the screen. "what's so funny?"
THAT'S YOUR FIRST SEARCH.
"okay? sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."
the chat somehow laughs harder.
then more searches appear.
"metallica concerts near me"
"deftones concerts near me"
"can you survive on energy drinks alone"
"how loud is too loud for headphones"
all of these are pretty normal for shidou.
then he scrolls. and that's when things go downhill. fast.
"is sae itoshi gay?”
chat explodes so hard it practically crashes.
SHIDOU????????
WHY WERE YOU GOOGLING THAT????
DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL US.
shidou stares. realizes what everyone is looking at. and instead of being embarrassed? he doubles down.
"what? i was curious."
"CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT?" chat screams.
"the answer."
the donations start flooding in.
ASKING FOR A FRIEND???
SHIDOU WE NEED CONTEXT.
WHY DID YOU NEED THIS INFORMATION.
he refuses to elaborate.
then another search gets spotted: "how to tell if someone is ignoring your texts on purpose.”
the entire stream loses consciousness. now the timeline is becoming clear.
the comments are moving so fast they're unreadable and shidou most definitely can’t keep up.
"stop reading into things,” he says. (which is exactly what someone says when people should absolutely be reading into things.)
the clip goes viral within hours. the internet spends weeks creating theories.
and somewhere out there, sae discovers the clip.
the livestream mysteriously disappears less than two hours later.
karasu tabito – spilling all the tea
karasu starts the stream with one objective: talk football. that's it. football. simple. easy.
except chat starts asking questions.
and unfortunately, karasu knows everything.
who's dating who. who hates who. who got into arguments. who got kicked out of restaurants. who almost got arrested. he knows ALL of it.
so someone asks: "who's the biggest diva in blue lock?"
karasu immediately answers. "reo." without hesitation.
reo starts texting him before the sentence is even finished.
then another question. "who causes the most problems?"
"shidou." easy.
another. "who takes the longest getting ready?"
"aryu. next."
another. "who's most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse?"
"not nagi."
chat is loving this. karasu is having the time of his life.
then he gets too comfortable. way too comfortable. cuz now he's telling stories. real stories.
"one time rin and isagi argued for 30 minutes over the different types of milk. gosh, i wanted to kill them both."
chat explodes.
"one time, sae hung up on rin six times in a row."
more screaming.
"one time, kaiser spent 15 minutes searchin’ for a mirror."
absolute chaos. his viewer count doubles. triples. quadruples. people are treating the stream like classified government documents.
eventually, his phone starts vibrating nonstop. messages. calls. threats (probably).
karasu glances down. "... oh."
chat knows. they immediately know. people are spamming: "who texted you?"
karasu smiles. "the people i just talked about."
the clip ends there because the stream mysteriously cuts off 10 seconds later.
nobody knows whether it was internet issues or whether multiple blue lock players collectively decided to hunt him for sport.
kaiser michael – ragebaiting men for sport
kaiser starts the stream feeling fantastic. confident. beautiful. untouchable.
the chat immediately senses weakness.
it starts with one comment: "do you ever wish you were athletic?"
kaiser laughs. "that's funny." he moves on.
another comment appears: "what's the first thing you'd do if you were tall?"
a pause. a small pause. the smile twitches. "i am tall."
chat smells blood. the questions start multiplying.
"when did you stop working out?"
"what's it like being an upcoming player?"
"have you ever considered soccer?"
"do you think you could beat isagi in a match?"
that last one almost kills him.
ness, sitting next to him, immediately realizes what's happening. "kaiser."
"what."
"they're baiting you."
"they're not baiting me. they're stupid."
the chat absolutely erupts because now they know it works.
"what inspired you to pursue a career outside of sports?"
"OUTSIDE OF–"
kaiser sits upright so fast he nearly launches himself out of frame. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN."
ness is trying not to laugh, which is difficult since kaiser is getting genuinely upset.
another comment appears: "you have really good genetics. have you ever thought about becoming an athlete?"
"NESS."
"yes?"
"BAN THEM."
"there's 40,000 people saying it–”
"BAN ALL OF THEM."
chat is crying. then the final blow arrives. the strongest ragebait ever created.
"what was it like watching isagi yoichi become the face of soccer?"
kaiser’s smile disappears. the room temperature drops. ness immediately starts sweating.
"okay." kaiser cracks his knuckles. "okay."
"kaiser."
"okay."
"kaiser, don't."
for the next five minutes, he delivers the most passionate, unprompted, statistically sourced presentation mankind has ever witnessed. pulling up rankings. goals. awards. match footage. charts. receipts. evidence.
he is fighting for his life.
meanwhile, chat is spamming:
HE FELL FOR IT.
HE'S STILL GOING.
NOBODY ASKED FOR A POWERPOINT.
THIS IS THE BEST STREAM EVER.
the clip ends with ness quietly reading one final donation: "thank you for answering my question, aspiring athlete."
kaiser disconnects the stream instantly. the screen goes black.
every single clip posted from this livestream gets millions of views within a day.
ness alexis – only cuz you’re here 🥺
ness starts a perfectly normal stream where he's talking about football, answering questions, and acting relatively sane.
then suddenly someone in chat starts spamming: MAMA A KAISER BEHIND YOU.
ness turns around. and there he is. kaiser. literally just walking through the room. nothing special. not even looking at the camera.
ness immediately transforms into a middle school fangirl meeting her celebrity crush.
"KAISER!!” his voice goes up like three octaves.
kaiser doesn't even stop walking. "hey, ness."
ness starts smiling so hard his face looks painful. "guys, did you hear that? he said hey. HE SAID HEY. TO ME."
chat is losing consciousness.
every single time kaiser appears, the exact same thing happens.
one stream has kaiser walk into frame three separate times. all three times ness reacts like it's the second coming.
eventually the comments start rating his reactions.
kaiser appearance #1: 8/10 blush.
kaiser appearance #2: screaming.
kaiser appearance #3: heartbeat visibly increased to cardiac arrest levels.
the final viral clip is kaiser asking: "why are you smiling like that?"
a/n: my friend hit this ragebaiter move on a driver once and it made them so mad LMAOOO it was that driver’s fault anyway.
synopsis: ragebaiting a bully player who dares to insult bf!sae.
the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted instantly. thousands of fans jumped to their feet, screaming so loudly it almost drowned out the commentators. all around the field, real madrid players were celebrating, some running around like they were still high on adrenaline while others collapsed dramatically onto the grass.
in the middle of all the chaos stood sae, looking exactly the same as he had before the match started. same posture. same neutral face. same expression that suggested he had just finished buying groceries instead of winning a major game.
the second you spotted him, all rational thought left your body. you took off running across the field.
sae saw you immediately. his eyes followed your approach as you nearly tripped over absolutely nothing halfway there. he watched you regain your balance and continue sprinting toward him at full speed before practically launching yourself into his arms. without even flinching, he caught you.
"we won!" you yelled, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"i noticed."
"you're supposed to be excited!”
"i am."
"sae!"
"what?"
"your face!"
"this is my excited face."
you groaned. he stared back at you.
then his gaze briefly shifted toward the photographers surrounding the field. reporters were already swarming the area, cameras flashing nonstop as they hunted for reactions and celebration footage. sae's eyes lingered on them for a second before returning to you.
then very quickly, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss against your cheek. it lasted maybe half a second. the kind of kiss that was clearly intended to go unnoticed.
unfortunately for him, there were approximately 900 cameras pointed directly at his face. so the reaction was immediate. photographers started yelling.
"did you get that?!"
"i got that!"
"zoom in!"
"enhance!"
"enhance the cheek!"
somewhere, a sports reporter was probably already typing up an article titled: sae itoshi displays human emotion, world in shock.
but sae had already returned to pretending nothing happened.
then disaster arrived. one of the opposing players suddenly walked over.
at first, you assumed he wanted to shake hands or exchange post-match pleasantries. instead, he opened his mouth and immediately started talking trash.
"lucky win."
you blinked. sae blinked. the guy continued.
"the media babies you."
what?
"without your teammates carrying you, you'd be average."
excuse me?
"you're overrated, you know. you disappear in important matches. since you've got the personality of cardboard."
at this point, even nearby players were beginning to look over because genuinely, where was this coming from?
sae just stood there silently. which somehow only encouraged the guy. he kept talking. and talking. and talking. two whole minutes passed. the man was discovering insults everyone’s heard before.
"you're arrogant. and boring."
"are you a robot?"
"your haircut sucks."
that one almost got a reaction. almost. but not quite.
sae simply stared at him with the exact same expression he'd been wearing the entire day. all while the opposing player was getting progressively more animated, waving his arms around like he was auditioning for theater.
eventually, you reached your limit. because this wasn't trash talk anymore. this was a damn TED talk. the guy was delivering a full presentation of a subject no one gave two shits about.
so while he was in the middle of yet another rant, you slowly lifted your fists to your eyes and made a tiny rubbing motion.
"wahhhh."
the player stopped. you did it again.
"wahhhh. boo hoo."
complete silence. you stared at him. he stared at you. then you hit him with another one.
"wahhhh."
the nearest reporter made a choking sound. someone behind you snorted. another player physically turned around because he was trying not to laugh. the opposing player's face instantly turned bright red.
"are you serious?!"
you mimicked him immediately. "arE yOu sErIoUs?!"
"you think this is funny?!"
"wahhhh."
the crowd closest to the field noticed, which was the worst possible thing that could have happened. because suddenly spectators started joining in.
"WAHHHH."
"BOO HOO."
"CRY HARDER."
a group of teenagers near the front started fake crying. a middle-aged man began wiping imaginary tears from his face. somebody's little kid copied your hand motion perfectly.
the player looked like he was about 30 seconds away from exploding.
reporters weren't even pretending to be professional anymore. photographers were shaking from laughter. one guy nearly dropped his camera that probably cost the average mortgage.
and standing beside you the entire time was sae. completely motionless. completely expressionless. completely neutral. but you knew him. his shoulders looked suspiciously tense. his lips were pressed suspiciously flat. and he was looking literally anywhere except the opposing player because if he made eye contact with anyone right now, he was done for.
"your girlfriend is immature!" the player snapped.
"wahhhh."
"stop doing that!"
"wahhhh."
the crowd echoed it immediately.
"WAHHHH. WAHHHH."
it spread across the stadium like a disease. thousands of people were now collectively mocking one man. you fear you had accidentally weaponized kindergarten bullying.
the player finally stormed away looking like he wanted to fight the entire world. once he was gone, you looked up at sae.
"was i too mean?"
sae glanced at the retreating player. then at the crowd still making crying motions. then back at you. "no."
"really?"
"i think you were too nice."
you stared at him. somewhere in the stadium, somebody yelled another "WAHHHH." and for the briefest moment, you caught the corner of sae's mouth twitch. not a smile. but close enough.
the internet completely lost its mind afterward. clips of the interaction reached millions of views before the team had even left the stadium. hashtags started trending worldwide. people were recreating the crying motion. entire comment sections became nothing but "wahhhh."
the funniest part? the winning goal wasn't even the most replayed moment. it was you standing in front of a professional football player and reducing him to absolute rage using the verbal equivalent of a water gun.
the comments were ruthless:
"she defended her boyfriend using elementary school tactics and won."
"bro lost an argument to 'wahhh.'"
"retire immediately."
"sae's face is taking me out. he's fighting for his life not to laugh 😭"
they were right. since later that night, when sae finally watched the clip back, he made it exactly three seconds before burying his face in your shoulder because he was laughing too hard to breathe.
isagi is one of those athletes who genuinely tries to be polite to the media because he understands they're part of the sport. he'll smile, answer every question thoughtfully, thank reporters for coming, etc.. he's practically the media's golden boy... until they decide to involve you.
one reporter starts with the classic, "your girlfriend has been getting criticized online lately. do you think the attention she’s receiving is distracting you from football?"
his smile doesn't disappear, but it definitely changes. "not really."
"could you elaborate?"
"there's nothing to elaborate on."
dead silence. isagi isn't giving them anything.
"my relationship has never affected my performances. if anything, she’s only supported me."
"but people are saying–"
"people say a lot of things." he says it so calmly that it almost sounds friendly. "i don't base my opinions on anonymous comments."
the interview gets uploaded and everyone immediately notices how his expression changed the second your name came up.
"bro activated post-match interview ego 😭"
"the aura disappeared the moment they mentioned his gf"
"he looked at that reporter like they misplaced a pass"
another time, you're walking beside him after a match. cameras are everywhere. flashes nonstop. it’s all making you feel a bit dizzy.
then one photographer practically shoves a camera inches from your face while another reporter asks, "how does it feel dating someone who's clearly more famous than you?"
before you can even process the question, isagi steps between you and every single camera. he literally uses his body as a shield.
"that's enough. back up."
security immediately intervenes because even they're surprised isagi actually had to say something.
afterwards, he apologizes to you. "sorry. i should've reacted sooner."
and you're staring at him like "you just stared down 20 reporters."
"did i?"
"yoichi."
"i was a little annoyed."
a little, huh? everyone watching could tell he wanted to say about 15 more things.
itoshi rin
rin has absolutely zero respect for reporters who ask stupid questions. none.
they're already on thin ice simply because they exist. involving you makes it worse.
one interviewer smiles way too brightly. "rin, your girlfriend gets a lot of hate online. have you ever thought dating someone less controversial would make your career easier?"
rin hits him with that deadpan look. "have you ever thought asking better questions would make your career easier?"
gagged.
the poor interviewer doesn't even know what to say.
rin doesn't wait. he simply stands up. "interview's over." and leaves. that's it.
the clip reaches 10 million views in two days.
"HE COOKED THEM."
"reporter retiring after this."
"rin woke up and chose unemployment for somebody else."
another time, reporters surround the two of you outside the stadium. they're asking invasive questions, following you, refusing to move, ignoring your requests to be left alone.
rin immediately notices you're getting overwhelmed. so he grabs your hand naturally. his grip is firm enough to remind you, i'm here.
someone continues shouting questions behind you. "rin! does your girlfriend deserve all the sponsorships she’s getting?"
he doesn't even look back. "more than you deserve a microphone."
and keeps walking. doesn't break stride.
the reporters are left standing there while social media loses its mind.
later, when you're home, you quietly tell him, "you didn't have to defend me."
he looks genuinely confused. "why wouldn't i?" like the idea of not defending you has literally never crossed his mind. "you're mine. of course i'm going to protect you."
it's the closest thing to a love confession you'll get that week.
itoshi sae
sae is terrifying because he doesn't raise his voice. ever. disappointment somehow hurts more.
european reporters quickly learn that while sae tolerates difficult football questions… asking about you is dangerous territory. in fact, it’s where he draws the line. and he makes that very known.
"your relationship has become quite the headline recently."
"has it?"
"people believe your girlfriend’s popularity is benefiting from your name."
sae tilts his head slightly. "that's interesting."
the reporter thinks they're winning. then–
"because i was under the impression she’d built her own career. unless i've missed something."
the room starts laughing. the reporter turns bright red. sae simply sips his water.
at another press conference, it happens again: "your girlfriend was criticized for wearing designer clothing to one of your matches."
"okay."
"what are your thoughts?"
"she looked as pretty as always."
"... that's it?"
"did you expect me to criticize what someone i love wears?"
"... no."
"then we're finished."
every answer is somehow more humiliating than if he'd actually gotten angry.
when photographers become too aggressive, sae doesn't shove anyone. doesn't yell either. he simply walks directly beside you, one hand resting against your back, subtly steering you away from the crowd. every camera angle suddenly has him between you and the chaos.
his security team instantly understands. they create space without him needing to say a word.
later that night, you mention, "people online say you never show affection."
sae glances over from where he's making tea. "do you think that?"
"no."
he hums. walks over. brushes your hair behind your ear. and then presses a kiss to your forehead. "good."
because he genuinely couldn't care less what strangers think. only whether you know how much he loves you.
nagi seishiro
nagi hates interviews. hates cameras. hates talking. but somehow finds the energy to become unbelievably articulate whenever someone is disrespecting you.
a reporter asks, "your girlfriend seems to enjoy the spotlight a little more than you."
"mhm."
"doesn't that bother you?"
"why would it?"
"well–"
"i like seeing her happy. next question."
another reporter pushes: "some fans think she’s only dating you because you're famous."
nagi finally looks up from the table. "that's kinda rude."
everyone stops because his tone is so unusually serious.
"you don't know her. so don't act like you do."
that's all he says. but somehow it trends harder than every goal he's scored that month. because nagi never sounds upset.
another time, you're both leaving an awards ceremony. photographers are screaming. someone's trying to get you to look at their camera. another person starts criticizing your outfit loud enough for everyone to hear.
nagi immediately wraps an arm around your shoulders and gently pulls you against his side. "don't listen. they're loud today."
you mumble, "i know."
"wanna go home?"
"... please."
"okay."
that's literally his only priority – getting you away from people who made you feel small.
later, he's scrolling through comments and sees another rude post. he sighs loudly. “can i block the whole internet?"
"i don't think that's possible, sei."
“annoying."
but whenever he defends you and ignores rude press, he only earns the respect of his fans and your fans even more.
mikage reo
reo grew up around the press. he knows exactly how manipulative reporters can be. he also knows how to shut them down without causing a scandal.
someone asks during an interview, "your girlfriend’s spending habits have been criticized recently."
reo smiles politely. "is that so?"
"people think she’s enjoying your family's wealth."
"i refuse to let her pay for anything, even though she has plenty of her own money. now anything else?"
another interviewer tries: "do you think your relationship helps your public image?"
"if anything, my girlfriend’s helping mine."
cue the internet exploding.
"HE'S SOOOOOOOO."
"reo said I'M the trophy boyfriend actually."
"MIKAGE STOCKS UP."
at fashion events, galas, charity dinners, reporters constantly try separating the two of you.
"reo! one photo!"
"can we get one without your girlfriend?"
reo immediately replies, "why?”
"for the article!”
"my girlfriend is the best-looking part of the picture." he grabs your hand. "she stays."
he refuses interviews if you're being treated disrespectfully. he refuses photo shoots if they crop you out after inviting both of you. he even refuses magazine covers if they try creating fake relationship drama.
his PR team has learned not to argue. once reo decides something regarding you, that's final.
one day you apologize. "i'm sorry if dating me causes trouble with sponsors."
he looks genuinely offended. "don't apologize for other people's behavior." he cups your face with both hands. "they don't get to make you feel like you're difficult to love. you're the easiest person in my life to choose."
and if that means correcting reporters, shutting down rumors, or walking out of a hundred interviews… he'll do it every single time.
no headline, sponsorship, or public image will ever matter more to him than making sure you never have to face the cruelty of the press alone.
bachira meguru
bachira is sunshine with a microphone. every reporter loves interviewing him because he's playful, unpredictable, and somehow manages to make every press conference entertaining.
unfortunately for them… they eventually learn there's exactly one way to make bachira stop smiling.
"bachira, your girlrfriend has received quite a bit of criticism online lately."
"mm."
"people say she’s becoming more famous because of your relationship."
he tilts his head. "that's weird."
"why?"
"because i started dating her AFTER i thought she was cool."
the room laughs. the reporter awkwardly chuckles, too. bachira doesn't.
"if i wasn't famous, i'd still love her. if she weren't famous, i'd still love her. so i'm kinda confused why everyone else cares so much."
the smile never leaves his face.
but there's something almost unsettling about how sincere he sounds. to bachira, love has always been incredibly simple. if he loves you, then that's the end of the discussion.
another time, reporters swarm the two of you after a charity event. you're smiling politely, answering questions, etc.
until one photographer says, "can you move over a little? you're blocking bachira."
before you even step aside, bachira steps beside you.
"is she?"
"well... yes."
"then i'll stay here." he wraps an arm around your shoulders with the biggest grin imaginable. "we're a package deal."
"but we'd like some solo shots–”
"you already have plenty. next."
he completely ignores them after that.
he also spends the next 5 minutes making you laugh instead.
the resulting pictures? every single one has you laughing so hard your eyes are closed while bachira looks at you instead of the cameras. they immediately become everyone's favorite photos from the event.
when you apologize later for "making things difficult," he physically pouts. "difficult?" he pokes your forehead. "you're literally my favorite person. if anything, they're the difficult ones. they forgot manners."
“meguru…"
"what? my mama would've scolded them, too."
shidou ryusei
reporters love interviewing shidou because they know he's completely unfiltered. they also regret it approximately 70% of the time. as for the remaining 30%... they're regretting it before the interview even starts.
one particularly brave reporter decides to ask, "your girlfriend seems to attract controversy wherever she goes."
"yeah."
"doesn't that bother you?"
"no."
"why not?"
"controversy's hot."
everyone blinks. "excuse me?"
"means she’s interesting." he shrugs. "boring people don't get talked about."
another reporter jumps in. "people think she’s hurting your brand."
shidou laughs so loudly security looks over. "my brand?" points at himself. "have... have you met me? i'm literally ryusei shidou. my brand is causing problems."
the room erupts. even the moderators are trying not to laugh.
later, someone crosses the line. you're walking through the mixed zone when a reporter loudly comments on his appearance and blames it on you.
"you look exhausted today. is your girlfriend struggling to keep up with your lifestyle?"
shidou stops walking immediately. he slowly turns around while smiling. that's even scarier. then he hits them with the: "say that again."
the reporter suddenly isn't nearly as confident. "... i..."
"nah, go on." he takes a step closer. "you were real loud a second ago."
security is already moving because they know exactly where this is headed.
you gently tug his sleeve. "... ryusei."
he looks down and immediately softens. "yeah?"
"let's just go."
"... okay."
he doesn't even spare the reporter another glance. because the second you asked him to leave… everyone else stopped mattering.
on the drive home, he's still grumbling. "swear they got microphones instead of manners."
"you almost fought someone."
"almost?"
"okay, maybe definitely."
karasu tabito
karasu is incredibly good with words. it’s exactly why reporters hate arguing with him. they never realize they've lost until the interview's already over.
someone decides to be bold and asks, "your girlfriend receives criticism for attending so many of your matches."
"yeah."
"is she doing it for publicity?"
karasu raises an eyebrow. "mate."
"yes?"
"she’s attendin’ my matches. that's... what partners do. unless yers doesn’t."
clocked.
the interviewer coughs awkwardly. "moving on–”
"nuh uh." karasu smiles. "finish that thought."
"well..."
"because if support suddenly became controversial..." he leans forward. “football's gonna have a real problem."
every clip from that interview goes viral.
people in the comments keep saying, "he debates reporters like he's writing a dissertation” or "bro got cross-examined."
another day, someone corners you alone while karasu is finishing sponsor photos. they keep asking increasingly invasive questions. you're visibly uncomfortable.
karasu notices from halfway across the room and immediately excuses himself from the photoshoot. he walks over, sliding seamlessly into the conversation, one arm resting around your waist. "everythin’ alright?"
the reporter brightens. "perfect timing! we were asking–"
"was she answerin’?"
"... well–”
"didn't think so." he smiles politely. "conversation's over."
then he quietly asks you, "ya okay?" when you nod, he kisses your temple. "good. now c'mon."
later, he tells you, "ya never owe anybody yer time just because they have a camera."
it's something he reminds you of often – fame shouldn't mean strangers are entitled to pieces of you.
kaiser michael
kaiser has spent years dealing with tabloids. he's been criticized, idolized, torn apart, praised. almost nothing surprises him anymore.
except seeing someone aim that cruelty at you. that's the one thing he still hasn't learned to tolerate.
a journalist smirks. "your girlfriend seems to be benefiting greatly from dating the world's best striker."
kaiser smiles calm, yet dangerous. "is that so?"
"wouldn't you agree?"
"nein."
"why not?"
"because she was already extraordinary before she met me." he folds one leg over the other. "if anything… i simply have the privilege of standing beside her."
every headline the next morning focuses on that quote instead.
another reporter refuses to let it go. "surely the criticism affects your relationship."
"not particularly."
"how can you be so certain?"
"unlike strangers..." he smiles faintly. “i actually know her."
interview over.
when photographers become pushy, kaiser doesn't lose control. he takes control.
he'll quietly move you to the inside of the sidewalk, away from the crowd, and rest his hand against the small of your back to subtly guide your pace.
if someone tries cutting between the two of you, they physically can't. kaiser positions himself with practiced precision until there's no opening.
every movement is intentional, protective without making a spectacle of it.
one night you admit, "sometimes i wonder if everyone's right."
he immediately looks at you, genuinely confused. "about what?"
"that i'm too much."
he walks over and gently lifts your chin. "lie."
"what?"
"that's not your voice. that's theirs." his thumb brushes your cheek. "don't confuse the two."
then he kisses your forehead with a tenderness almost no one else ever gets to see.
the world may know michael kaiser as arrogant. but you know the man who quietly pieces your confidence back together every time someone tries to break it.
ness alexis
ness is painfully aware of how cruel public attention can be. he knows what it's feels like to have thousands of strangers decide who you are without ever speaking to you.
because of that… he notices the moment you're uncomfortable. before you even say anything.
during interviews, he'll keep subtly checking on you from across the room, making eye contact every few minutes. silently asking, you okay?
if you smile, he relaxes.
if you don't… he's already finding a way to end the interview early.
one reporter decides to push. "your girlfriend has become quite the controversial figure."
ness nods slowly. "... and?"
"do you think the criticism is deserved?"
his expression immediately falls. "no. of course not.”
"why?"
"because i know her. the internet doesn't."
the reporter presses further. "but surely thousands of people can't all be wrong."
ness actually frowns. "thousands of people have been wrong before. history proves that quite often. next question."
another time, someone rudely interrupts you while you're answering. they keep talking over you over and over.
ness finally speaks, firmly enough that the entire room goes quiet. "she was speaking. please don't interrupt her again."
it's such a simple sentence, yet somehow everyone immediately apologizes. it’s the fact that his disappointment is palpable.
afterwards, when you're alone, you sigh. "i feel bad."
"for what?"
"everyone always asks about me instead of football."
ness stops walking. he turns toward you completely. "listen to me." he waits until you're looking at him. "you never have to apologize because someone else chose to be disrespectful. that's their decision. not yours."
later that evening, he notices you've been reading comments again. so he quietly takes your phone, sets it face-down on the table, climbs onto the couch beside you, and wraps both arms around you without saying anything for a long time.
eventually, he mumbles into your hair, "they only know headlines." he squeezes you a little tighter. "i get to know your heart."
to ness, there has never been a fairer comparison than that.
Three times Luffy fell for you (Monkey D. Luffy x Fem! Reader)
A/N: So fucking cute! Send more requests and help :v - Val
Words: 1, 763
Warnings: Spoilers of anime/manga One Piece! Mentions of death, and I think that's all.
Three times Luffy fell for you.
1
Luffy wakes up in the middle of the night, but this time, it’s not because of a nightmare or a noise, he just feels weird.
His first thought is to go to the kitchen to find some food. Of course, he couldn’t get anything, thanks to Sanji’s tramps. He whines, but a noise interrupts his thoughts. He realizes it’s someone crying.
He gets to the Sunny’s deck, and he finds you sitting on the stairs. “Y/N? Are you okay? Why are you crying? Are you hungry too?” He quickly sits beside you.
You look at him startled and feel overwhelmed by the rain of questions. It only makes you cry more. He panics and decides to hug you instead of trying to keep talking.
As you feel his body around you, you melt against him hiding your face on his chest. He stretches his arms around you many times to hold you tighter and rest his head over yours.
The two of you stay like that until you stop crying, you can control your breathing and you stop hiding. He loosens his grip but still holds you.
“I had a nightmare,” you say with a broken voice. “I lost all of you and I couldn't do anything to stop it.”
Luffy hums. “I had that kind of nightmares too,” he sighs, “I can’t blame you, they’re really scary and it feels real.”
“Yeah,” you nod.
“But you know who hates them the most?” You lean back to look at him. “Zoro,” he giggles. “When I have those nightmares, I have to make sure everybody’s okay, but the first person I see it’s him, so I wake him up every time. And it’s hard to wake him up and, he’s never happy,” Luffy makes a funny scary face that makes you giggle.
“And sometimes the others wake up too, so they all start to scream at me, but it’s okay. At least I know they’re fine,” he smiles.
“That’s a good solution,” you say sarcastically, but Luffy doesn’t get it.
“Right?” His chest starts to feel funny when he sees your smile again. “See? You’re not the only one with that nightmare. Everybody’s okay. And I’m here with you, and I heard the others snore, so they’re okay too!” You giggle again.
“You’re right,” you sigh. “Thanks, Luffy.”
Now Luffy feels funny in his stomach, so he remembers.
“Oh, right! You know, this could be a great moment to have a sweet!” He pouts. “But, bad news, Sanji locked the fridge again,” he whines.
You laugh at his childish behavior, but you move a little to lose more of his grip and turn to the side to pick up a small blue box.
“Here,” you offer the box. “You can have the honor to eat my last cookie.”
Luffy’s eyes sparkle. “What? The last one? Really?” You laugh and nod. “Thank you!” He squeals grabbing it, but then, he stops to look at the cookie and then at you. He frowns when he still sees your teary eyes, pink cheeks, and tired smile. “I want to share it with you,” he says breaking the cookie in half.
“What!?” You exclaim. “You never share your food with anyone. You just take it all!”
He laughs at loud. “But I want to share with you! C’mon, captain’s orders” he says with a playful authority.
You giggle. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah!” He smiles.
“Thank you, Captain.”
“You’re welcome!” He turns his sight to his half of the cookie and eats it in one bite.
You take a moment to see the details on Luffy’s face, his skin, his rebel and raven hair, some freckles, his nose, fine lips, and his eyes, always full of excitement. Without thinking much, you lean forward to kiss his cheek.
He raises his brows and looks at you with a confused face.
“Why did you do that?” He asks curiously.
You shrug. “I wanted to,” then you panic. “I—is that okay?”
He smiles. “Only if I can kiss you whenever I want,” he says without any sign of flirtation.
You blush. “W-what?”
“It’s only fair, right?” He says with a chuckle, so casual and calm while you’re a mess. “Deal?”
“D-Deal!”
He nods and looks at his ship, but there’s still something he can’t figure out. The funny feeling in his stomach increased and now it’s on his chest too. Maybe he has to ask Chopper about it… or eat more.
2
Every year, on the same day of Ace’s death, Luffy gets so quiet that it feels wrong.
Sometimes, Luffy’s complicated in other situations, but this is another level. Nobody knows what to do. They’ve tried to ask him, but he doesn’t talk all day and he rejects any help from his crew.
He’s sitting in his favorite spot, he’s been looking at the horizon for many hours, just until he hears someone’s steps and groans.
“Shit,” you say grabbing another part of the Sunny’s head as you keep trying to climb it. There’s a reason why this is Luffy’s spot. It’s hard for someone without a devil fruit.
Luffy leans to look at your struggle. He frowns, stretches one arm to grab you by your waist, and pulls you to his side.
“Uff… thanks, Luffy!” You smile gratefully.
“Why do you want to climb?” He asks. His voice’s raspy.
“Oh!” You act like you’re not worried about his state. “I-I know you uh, you don’t like anyone else to sit here but...”
“No,” he interrupts you. “It’s okay. You can.”
You smile blushing.
“Thanks, uh...” you move on your place “I just—I Just don’t want you to be alone for so long,” you whisper. “I mean, I can go if that’s what you want, I know it’s a hard day for you but...” You look at him. “You don’t have to face it alone.”
He doesn’t answer, he just moves and lays down with his head resting on your lap. Then, he reaches for your hand, and when he finds it, he puts it on his hair. You catch what he wants and start brushing the tufts with a soft giggle.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
3
It’s a tradition for the straw hats to throw a huge party after a tough fight and this isn’t the exception.
Zoro and Nami are betting about who can drink more sake while Usopp’s singing with Brook and Franky since they lost a bet, Robin’s watching them dancing around. Chopper and Luffy are eating all Sanji’s making.
At first, you celebrated with the same enthusiasm as your friends, but now, you feel like your body’s finally giving up. You return to the Sunny, directly to your room.
As much as you want to take a shower to wash off the party’s sweat, your body aches so much that you think it wouldn’t work on your own and you don’t want to call Robin or Nami for help.
“Just the pj’s then,” you say out loud. You leave the weapons on the floor and grab your shirt to pull it up, but the pain of your wounds stops you. “Fuck!” You groan.
“Are you okay?” says Luffy arriving at your room.
You turn to him scared. “Shit, Luffy!” You yell at him, and he smiles.
“Sorry,” He walks up to you. “Why did you leave the party?”
You chuckle. “Shouldn't you be... you know, turning into a big ball full of food and having fun?”
“It's no fun if you're not there,” he says like is nothing, but you’re blushing, and your heart pounds. “So, why you don’t go back?”
You shake your head. “I’m exhausted, Luffy. I can’t even put on my pj’s,” you laugh.
“Oh! Do you want me to help you?”
His eyes tell you that his offer is pure and innocent. You’re 100% sure that your captain has no other intentions. But you can't help feeling uneasy and nervous.
“Y-you don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He smiles and you nod.
He grabs the end of your shirt and gently pulls it over your head. You hiss a little and then throw the shirt away. When you look up, Luffy’s eyes are on the bandage around your waist.
“Luffy?” You almost whisper.
“You fought great,” he grins and he feathery touches the bandage. “You’re an awesome fighter,” he nods.
“Thanks.”
“Sometimes… I forget that you and I are different in battle.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
He returns to your eyes. “You can't last as long fighting as me, you get exhausted sooner and you heal last,” then he smiles. “But no matter how strong your opponent is… you always find a way to win,” he giggles. “You always surprise me with your smart brain.”
“Really?” You smile.
“Definitely.”
You realize the proximity of your bodies, Luffy's breath mingles with yours and your noses almost touch. You can’t help but lean a little up and kiss his lips sweetly. It lasts a few seconds, and you move away, waiting for his reaction.
He frowns. “Wait! I’m feeling funny again!”
“What?”
“It’s like—I dunno. When I’m with you… in my belly—and chest—and then you kissed me, and it got worse!” He steps back. “It’s all your fault!” He points at you.
You think for a while about all his words and his reaction, then, you figure it out. You blush with a smile. “I feel the same, Luffy.”
“You do? Are we sick? Are we gonna die?”
You giggle stepping closer to him. “No. It means that you like me and… I like you.”
“I don’t get it. I like everyone in the crew but with you it’s different,” he pouts.
You nod and take his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Luffy,” you whisper leaning to kiss him again. This time the kiss is longer, and he reciprocates following the movements of your lips against his.
“I’ll explain it to you, I promise...”
“’Kay, but does it mean that we can keep kissing? It feels nice.”
You giggle. “Yeah, we can do that, but...” you flush looking down, realizing you’re just in a bra and jeans. “Can you help me with my clothes? I’m still tired.”
“Oh, right!”
He undresses you, leaving you in your underwear, and then helps you with your pajamas, and cuddles up with you in your bed and so it starts a make-out session between whispers, laughter, and love. At some point, you fall asleep, resting on his chest as he hugs you without hurting you.
thinking about bi-han on his knees, his hands restrained behind his back while he eats you out. his brows pull together as he scowls up at you from between your legs, because he despises the fact he can’t touch you, can’t grab your hips and pull you closer to his mouth to the point that you’re smothering him with your plush thighs, enveloping him in your scent. he can only take what he is given, and listen to the cute sounds that fall from your lips, his cock twitching helplessly at every sigh of his name.
when you start to feel yourself getting close, you draw your hips back and he lets out a strangled groan, eyes darting up to yours at the absence of your taste on his tongue. you stare down at him from the edge of your shared bed with a pitiful smile, breathing heavy. strands of dark hair fall from his now untidy bun, framing his flushed face, his eyes dark with lust and desperation. his lips, glistening and wet with your juices, slightly part as he mutters your name — both a plea and a warning.
you tilt your head to the side with a soft hum, hand coming down to rub slow circles on your clit. his eyes come up to meet yours, almost offended, and you breathe out a laugh, picking up the pace. your back arches, legs spreading further apart, giving bi-han the perfect view of your pretty hole clenching around nothing. a low moan escapes from his throat, precum leaking from his aching tip, powerless as he watches you grind against your fingers.
bi-han almost cums on the spot when you let two fingers slip past your folds, stretching yourself open with a soft whine. he groans as he watches your other hand trail up your torso to play with your breast, gently squeezing the soft mound of flesh, pinching and rolling the nipple between your fingers. his eyes flick down, catching the way you tighten around your fingers at the feeling, and he feels his cock twitch against his abdomen. the desire to touch and taste you clouds his mind, the lewd squelches of your cunt and your needy whimpers filling the room, invading his senses.
and when you whine out his name, all breathy and desperate, the way you always do when you’re about to cum, he feels the last of his resolve slip.
he freezes the restraints around his wrists, and pulls his hands apart. the sound of ice shattering pierces the air, and before you can even register what’s happening, your fingers are yanked out of your entrance, quickly replaced by bi-han’s tongue.
he presses wet, opened-mouthed kisses against your hole, growling between each one about how he has “entertained your antics for far too long,” and needs to “remind you of your place.” he lifts the hood of your clit up, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud before pulling it between his lips, sucking harshly. you let out a high-pitched moan, hands shooting down to tangle in his hair as you arch against him. strong arms wrap around each of your thighs, pulling you against his face until you are suffocating him, keeping you in place as your writhe and squirm in his hold.
your grip in his hair is almost painful as your head falls back. you’re moaning and panting into the air, desperately attempting to shut your legs, but he keeps them spread, making you completely vulnerable to him. he gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes, trying not to finish there and then at the sight of you, completely wrecked because of him. he adjusts so he can shove his cold tongue into your quivering hole, nose bumping roughly against your hardened clit. you’ve fallen back on the bed at this point, legs shaking, back arching as you cry out his name.
he doesn’t let up when you cum, relentless tongue lapping up all your juices, because what kind of man would he be if didn’t clean you up properly? he smirks into your folds when you start to twitch around him, helplessly pawing at his head, begging him to stop. his lips leave you with a lewd pop! and he stands up, leaning over you.
he brings a gentle hand up to your face, calloused thumb wiping at the tears running down your cheeks from the overstimulation. you look completely ruined, a mess, all because of him, and he can’t help the mean chuckle that slips past his lips. his other hand comes down to position his cock at your messy hole, running it up and down your slit, relishing in the way you whine at the feeling, and he leans down, lips brushing against your ear,
“did you truly believe we would stop there?”
— ( ✉️ ) not proofread, sorry this is so long jesus. one hundred percent based off of that one scene in khaos reigns when hes handcuffed and on his knees in front of mileena while she decides to kill him or not UGH LOVE HIM
Bad Summary: Luffy hates it when you don’t make noise.
CW: OOC!Luffy, Smut, Over Stimulation, Mentions of Safe Word(not used), Pussy Slapping, Mentions of Being Tied Up
-
“No.” His voice gone rasp, pulling your hands away from your wet swollen lips. “Louder.”
How long has it been? 30 minutes? And hour? He still haven’t let up.
Your thighs burning and slipping against the rigges of his sides from the mixture of sweat, spit, and cum being exchanged from you both. His hot hands now gripping them to keep you steady. Your fingers went from clawing the sheets to clawing your legs since you couldn’t reach his back anymore. He needed to see your face once again.
He’s so selfish when he gets like this.
His mind wasn’t filled with anything but “one more, one more, one more”. You could swear you heard him muttering it each time he thrust inside you.
Your body was littered in hickies, your neck was bruised from his grip, and every breath you took was shaky. Your body was mush under him. You could barely see his sweaty pink face on his lightly tan skin under your tears. Vision blurred from how many times he has already filled you up. The room now filled with the embarrassing loud smacks of your hot wet body colliding with his. He was so loud, whining, panting, the way your name rolled of his tongue almost above an animalistic grunt.
“‘M ganna tie your arms up if you keep fucking covering that pretty mouth, Y/N…”
His words made your eyes pop open past your tears, you were met with his dark eyes, daring you to cover your mouth again, his face was tilted down, since he was perviously admiring his cock dragging in and out of your cunt sucking him back in and nearly clenching as a form of begging to be filled again. You knew all you had to say was one small word and he’d stop.
But you didn’t want that actually.
You didn’t want him to stop completely you just wanted him to stop making you want to be loud.
He knew the whole Sunny could hear the back and fourth clash of his bed hitting the wall. He knew the whole Sunny could hear Everytime he cum because he’d curse out almost as if he was frustrated.
And he was. You kept throwing your hands to your lips trying to conceal each moan from hitting his ears out of reflex almost forgetting what he just told you.
“Y/N..” He dragged your name out again in his croaky voice that had you melt from the sound alone, lips barely touching yours, if he licked his mouth he’d end up licking yours as well in the process, his sweat falling all over your damped face, his lower half still keeping the same messy pace as he grabbed you by your cheeks firmly and struggled to say, “Make some fucking noise for me.”
He smirked, huffing out his nose to see your worried eyes, he was tired of you constantly teasing him, he suddenly stopped all movements and rose up to heavily sigh,
“You wanna cum? I know you do I felt it.”
“Please..”
“Hm?”
“Please…let me cum..”
He did a low chuckle grabbing his cock to pull out of you and swirl on your slippery clit. You hissed at the new sensation, but you already missed him being in side you. You both were struggling to find a steady breath until he let go of his cock and pushed your thighs to your chest, cunt now in the stuffy air and to his disposal.
He spat on your slit holding both of your legs with one hand, a vein began to pop on his forearm as he used two fingers to swish back and fourth on your clit making you cry out.
“THERE WE GO! Good girl!” He cheered at your reaction, his smile grown wide again, “You just wanted me to play with your clit, huh?”
“Yes!”
“Nope.” He gave your pussy a light slap, you felt your juices spray on his hand making you flinch, “Louder.”
“YES, CAPTAIN !”
You felt yourself reaching your orgasm again and you didn’t hold back. You hollered out his name over and over again moving your body up and down to ride your high on his fingers. Luffy’s cock began to twitch hearing you sound so beautiful. To others however, it was pornographic.
“Fuck yes!” He thought out loud letting go of your ankles to pepper your face in kisses as you continued to moan. He was buried in your neck grinding his cock in your slit holding you close too excited to just slip back inside you and came from that alone. Both of your slutty sounds fill the room together before you both calm down with a sigh as he makes you hold him tightly to fall sound asleep with a smile on his face.
He knew you’d be mad as hell at him when you both wake up later and get weird and disgusted looks by everybody from everything they heard you both do, but that’s the thing about Luffy;
It was a common occurrence for [Name] to run into her father’s room at night, whimpering and saying something about a man standing in the corner of her room watching her sleep.
I headcanon that Vash hates going into heat. He has to hole up and hide in a motel for like a week or so to ride it out and it’s just so embarrassing for him. And he’s so so so so tired of it, tired of his body, tired of being consumed with want. So I imagine he needs some sort of moral support during this time and reassurance (aside from letting him use you of course 🥰)
He really does!!! He hates feeling like he's inconveniencing others, and the constant itch under his skin for your touch, your lips, your voice... It's not exactly making things any easier.
"Sorry, 'm sorry, please I- mmh!~"
"I've got you, baby. You're so good for me."
He doesn't usually let you service him with no intended return, but you can't deny how much you enjoy the image in front of you. Vash sits slumped in your lap with his back pressed to your chest, head lolled back against your shoulder. One of your perfect hands strokes his slippery, aching cock, the other dips three fingers into the open, hypersensitive sheath beneath it. He writhes and whimpers in your grasp, drooling and panting against your collarbone.
"Cumming... Gonna cum again!"
You brush a kiss against the shell of his ear as he gasps, spilling over his stomach or the umpteenth time that night. "That's it. Feel better, Vash?"
He sniffles out a quiet sob. "Need 'nother... I'm sorry, I need you, please..."
"Oh, baby, please don't cry. I'll give you whatever you need."
..more marking? talk?? lmao but i highly like the idea of plant's being able to 'mark' their partners . idk i can just see Vash and Nai prob accidentally doing that in the heat of the moment LOL
but who knows maybe it feels kinda like a cold chill down your body as the patterns start to spread in a certain spot. (On the back, or on your chest, maybe the collar bone up to the neck, wherever really). But now in some case you too gain the ability to somewhat communicate with dependent plants as well. Trust that Vash/Nai are def gonna drag you around the wasteland to teach you more about there species to the best of their limit, hooray!
I just also find it silly how you could be cuddling and boom glowstick mode activated. i can also see it as a chain reaction lol. you go off or he does and it just ends up being a flash bang if it's nighttime LMAOO - nonetheless both brothers would be ecstatic and over the moon to know this new discovery and prob a big ego boost that there's now a visual indication you are their partner for good.
my mind also wavers onto how your new markings can act like a succubus mark too during intimate moments teehee,,
Oh I'm CRAZY about this. Vash being so attached to you that he accidentally bolsters your microbiome? That's WILD and the exact kind of shit I go completely feral for. 💖💖💖
A Vash that has become so deeply intertwined with you that just being near him makes you feel lighter, more energetic. Whenever you're hurt he curls up so, so close to you and in the morning your injuries are healing much faster than they normally would have, cuts becoming scabs becoming scars but often times fading away entirely within a matter of days.
It should be unnerving, and to many outsiders it is. You move more gracefully when Vash is near, react quicker, your eyes reflecting light in the darkness that human eyes simply do not. But Vash has never forced anything upon you, nor given you anything that you did not already want. As his fingertips trace your skin in the dark and the proximity pulls an ethereal glow to the surface on both your body and his, you are only reminded of the bottomless well of love he has for you, and how he so desperately wanted you to be comfortable and happy that his alien body has willed it into reality.
I don’t have a title for this one but here’s the ‘vash fingering the reader’ fic y’all have all been chomping at the bit for. I specifically had ‘98 Vash in mind for this one but left it vague enough for y’all to pick your poison
Vash/Reader, NSFW, 2,200+ Words, AFAB! Reader, GN! Pronouns for reader, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, outdoor sex, male hands-free orgasm
As you knew him now, Vash The Stampede was a lot of things. A gunman, a pacifist, a bleeding heart, a man who had saved many and lost so many, many more. He was somber, yet cheerful. Clever, yet at times incredibly dense.
But if there was one thing Vash The Stampede wasn’t, he certainly wasn’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what you had thought up until tonight.
You barely even remembered what you were doing before Vash had led you out of the small saloon and into the alley in between it and the neighboring building. The gentle buzz of alcohol still thrumming through your veins, you only vaguely recalled bits and pieces of the conversation you’d been having with the bartender. Whatever it was you were talking about, he certainly wasn’t flirting with you, at least not in any way that you would have registered. But Vash had appeared so suddenly, hand closing gently around your wrist. He hadn’t needed to drag you, as you would follow him just about anywhere, and he led you quickly out into the cool evening.
Of course! Thanks for the inbox. I have a heavy crush for Nigthcrawler, so I really wanna writing for him.
MDNI
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who whispers how much he loves you every time he cums inside you. He caresses your skin with a gentle devotion before telling you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you feel inside, how much he goes crazy every time he sees you. His eyes light up as he tell you how much he wants to cum inside you, fill you with his seed, see you so swollen with his children...
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who can cum just with the sound of your voice, he feels dirty every time he feels a soft tremor running through his body with your goodnight audios, seeking to reach climax in the darkness of his room. And yet, he will be ready for another round the moment he hears his name again between your lips… He may have to go to a Confession soon.
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! After an especially long mission, he just wants to get lost between your legs. He's so exhausted from all the superhero work. Please let him forget each and every one of his problems right in the place he wants to be. Underneath you, absorbing your salty nectar, feeling your hips bouncing on his tongue, and accepting everything you are capable of giving him.
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who has the appearance of a demon… And he's quite willing to use it to his advantage. This guy admits he doesn't have many kinks, but biting is his thing. He tries to convince himself that it's not a sense of possession… but everytime he sees the marks on your pristine body his skin crawls and his breathing quickens. You make things he didn't think possible ignite in him. And yes, he use his tail, too.
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who is completely willing to let you take control. Please, ride him like a rodeo bull, tear at his skin without shame, lick his tears of pleasure like they're candy. Take everything from him, because there's no way he'd be willing to accept any less. Make sure you take everything he gives you, because he's going to take everything from you, too.
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who usually appears by your side at the exact moment you tell him you feel hot. Who is available for you 24/7 and has no complaints about it.
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who is genuinely mean. Darling, he is a wonderful man, but also desperate. He wants you to whisper his name. He wants you to only think about him while you cum, to become incapable of climaxing on your own. Can you please forgive him for that?
Boyfriend Nightcrawler! Who just wants to be there for you.
Author's notes. I hope you like it, really thank you so much for making me write more about Nightcrawler, my mom gave me life but he gave me the will to live it. Muack.
Grateful to @whateverithinkof for helping me with the correction and grammar, they really helped me a lot here.
I should have posted this a long time ago jdksajdkas. I'm going to make a grid at this rate.
childhood bsf!atsumu finally loses it and turns into a pathetic mess the second he sinks into you after years of fantasizing.
cw. explicit smut, tsumu has a big dih, big size difference, slight overstimulation, childhood friends to lovers undertones, creampie, tsumu being down bad, osamu mentioned :p : 1.6k words
atsumu’s always been loud about it.
ever since high school, back when he would often tell everyone that he’s going on a date with some hot chick and osamu would smack the back of his head for running his mouth in the locker room. “i’ve fucked more girls than you’ve had rice bowls,” he’d brag to anyone who’d listen, shoulders squared, that fox-like grin splitting his face.
osamu usually just rolled his eyes and muttered “yeah sure ya have” under his breath while toweling sweat off his neck.
you were always there too— sitting on the bench while you wait for him to finish so you could walk home together, pretending you weren’t listening. but you were. you always were.
he never said it to your face though. never looked straight at you and ran that same cocky spiel. with you it was different. softer. stupider. he’d nudge your shoulder with his, steal fries off your tray, call you “shortstack” even after you’d both shot up and you still only reached his collarbone. he’d ruffle your hair like you were some kid sister he was fond of.
except he wasn’t fond of you like a sister.
he was disgusting about it, actually.
he spent years of stolen glances while walking home together from school, when your sundress rode up your thighs on hot summer days, when you laughed so hard you had to grab his arm to stay upright. years of him jerking off in the shower after you’d hug him after winning a match, smelling like vanilla body mist and sunshine. years of him groaning your name into his pillow at 3 am in the morning like a prayer he was too ashamed to say out loud.
and now you’re here.
sprawled across his bed like you belong there— because you do, you always fucking did. your legs parted just enough that he can see how soaked your cute cotton panties are. there’s a little damp spot right in the center and atsumu swears his soul just left his body through his dick.
“ya sure?” he asks for the third time in ten minutes. his voice rough. cracking at the edges like he’s sixteen again.
you nod, biting your lip, cheeks flushed so pretty he wants to bite them.
“atsumu,” you murmur, reaching for his wrist. “stop stalling.”
“’m not stallin’,” he lies instantly. “just… y’know. makin’ sure my best girl’s ready for the miya special.”
you snort. actually snort. and it’s so you that his chest does that stupid flip thing it’s been doing since forever.
“miya special,” you echo, teasing. “is that what we’re calling your right hand now?”
he groans, drops his forehead to your bare stomach. “don’t be mean t’me. ’m fragile right now.”
“you’re the least fragile person i know.”
“not when it’s you,” he mumbles against your skin. kisses the soft curve under your belly button. then lower. then lower. “been dreamin’ bout this pussy since i knew what hard-ons were.”
your breath hitches.
he hooks two fingers in the waistband of your panties, drags them down slow like he’s unwrapping something holy. when the fabric peels away from your cunt there’s a thin string of slick that stretches and snaps and atsumu makes a sound that can only be described as wounded.
“holy fuck.”
he just stares for a second. like he’s trying to memorize every glistening fold. then he lowers his head and licks a fat, obscene stripe from your perineum all the way up to your clit.
you jerk. your thighs twitching. little whimper slipping out before you can catch it.
atsumu grins against you— feral, boyish, that shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid pretty face.
“told ya i’m a pro,” he mutters, voice muffled because his mouth is already back on you. “gonna eat this pussy so good ya forget every other guy’s name.”
except there aren’t other guys. not really. not ones that mattered. he knows that. you’ve told him before— drunk on cheap convenience store sake on his birthday two years ago— that you’ve only ever wanted him.
he never mentioned it after that.
but he still wants to erase the idea of anyone else ever touching you.
his tongue is messy. sloppy, even. he’s not trying to be neat or precise— he’s trying to drown in you. his nose pressing to your puffy clit, lips sealed around your entrance, sucking like he’s starving. when you buck he just groans louder, palms sliding up your thighs to pin you open wider.
“taste s’fuckin’ good,” he slurs. “been missin’ out my whole life.”
you’re already trembling. fingers twisted in his bleached hair. tugging hard enough that his scalp stings and it only makes him eat you out harder.
when he finally pulls back to breathe his chin is shiny, lips swollen and red. pupils blown so wide there’s barely any hazel left.
“gonna put it in now,” he rasps. not a question.
you nod frantically.
he fumbles with his shorts like his hands forgot how zippers work. when his cock springs free it slaps against his stomach— thick, flushed dark at the head, already leaking. bigger than you expected even though you’ve seen him in nothing but boxer briefs a hundred times.
“tsumu…” you breathe. half awe, half nerves.
he wraps a hand around the fat base, gives himself one slow stroke. “yeah?”
“you’re… really... uh— big.”
he grins, cocky but unraveling at the seams.
“i know baby. gonna stretch ya so pretty.”
he crawls back over you. one forearm braced beside your head, the other guiding himself to your entrance. he rubs the head through your folds— coating himself, teasing your already tingling clit until you whine.
then he pushes slowly, just the tip first.
and then stops. his whole body locks up, eyes fluttering shut. mouth falling open in a silent O shape.
“fuuuck— oh fuck— oh my god—”
you’ve never heard him sound like that.
“tight,” he chokes. “s’too fuckin’ tight— shit— ’m gonna die—”
you giggle despite the stretch. despite the ache. “you’re so dramatic.”
“not dramatic,” he pants. “just— jesus christ— yer pussy’s tryna kill me.”
he sinks another inch. then another. slowly. careful. even though his arms are shaking and sweat is already beading on his temple.
when he’s halfway in he drops his face into your neck and just… stays there. breathing so hard, his hips twitching like he’s fighting every instinct to slam home.
“tsumu?”
“gimme a sec,” he mumbles. voice muffled against your skin. “gimme a fuckin’ sec or ’m gonna cum right now and i swear t’god i’ll never forgive myself.”
you card your fingers through his damp hair soothingly.
“you can move,” you whisper. “want you to.”
you heard him make a broken noise.
he pulls back the tiniest bit just to feel the drag— then rolls his hips forward again. deeper this time. filling you so full your toes curl.
your pussy were stretched wide to its limits, gripping his thick shaft in a vice-grip like its sucking him in even deeper.
“ohmygod,” you both say at the same time.
then you’re both laughing— breathless, dazed, stupidly happy like some lovesick idiots.
until he rolls his hips again and again.
and suddenly laughing isn’t an option anymore.
atsumu miya— loudmouth, cocky setter, self-proclaimed sex god turns into the most pathetic, whimpering mess the second he bottoms out inside your warm pussy.
his sweaty forehead pressed to yours. eyes glassy. mouth slack. babbling incoherently like he’s too fucked-out to say something clearly.
“s’good... shiit— s’warm— fuckfuck— pussy’s suckin’ me in— can ya feel that? hm baby? shit— ’m so deep— look— look how deep i am—”
he grabs your hand. presses it low on your lower stomach where he’s bulging just a little.
that made you let out a loud and shameless moan. “atsumu— oh fuuuck!”
“yeah baby... say my name, fuck— say it again—”
he starts fucking you for real then. not graceful, not practiced. just pure raw need. his hips snapping, bed creaking so loud by the force of his thrusts. you could hear the wet squelching sounds every time he sheathes himself completely inside your fluttering cunt.
he’s so big it hurts a little, burns in the best way but the stretch makes your brain melt out your ears. he’s fucking you so good. so fucking good.
“good girl...” he slurs. “takin’ it so good— takin’ my big cock like ya were made for it— fuck— made f’me—”
you’re drooling. actually drooling. a little string of spit sliding from the corner of your mouth. he licks it up without thinking. kisses you messily, all tongue and teeth and desperation.
“been waitin’ so long,” he confesses between thrusts, his voice cracking. “wanted this— wanted you— fuck— since we were kids— used t’dream bout bendin’ ya over my desk—”
you clench around him hard at the image.
that made him sob.
actually sobs.
“do that again— please— please baby— squeeze me— fuuuck— ’m so close already— don’t wanna cum yet— wanna stay inside ya forever—”
and you do it again. deliberately. clenching your walls tightly against his pistoning cock
his rhythm stutters for a sec, his hips punching forward erratically. “nonononono— shiiit—! wait— ’m gonna—”
you wrap your legs around his waist. pull him deeper inside. lock him there.
“inside,” you whisper against his ear. “wan’ it inside.”
that breaks him.
his full-body shudder, letting out a choked moan. hips jerking as he pumps you full of hot, thick spurts that seem to go on forever that it leaks out around his cock. he keeps moving through it, shallow little thrusts like he can’t stop. like his body won’t let him.
when he finally stills he’s shaking. panting. face buried in your neck again.
“sorry,” he mumbles. “came too fast— fuck— ’m sorry—”
you laugh breathlessly, still heaving and kiss the shell of his ear.
“you’re so cute when you’re ruined.”
he groans. embarrassed but still inside you. still half-hard.
“gonna pull out,” he mutters.
“no...”
“…no?”
you tighten your legs around him. “stay.”
his breath hitches. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
he kisses you slow this time. lazy and passionate. his thumb brushing your cheek like you’re something precious.
“love ya,” he whispers. barely audible. like he’s scared the words will break if he says them louder.
you smile against his mouth. “love you too, tsumu.”
he makes a tiny, wrecked sound. almost sound like a whimper.
then he rolls his hips again— gentle this time. just testing at first.
“gonna make ya cum now,” he promises. voice hoarse but determined. “gonna move again, yeah? gonna fuck you so hard you’ll cum many times.”
“promise?”
he grins. that same grin from when you were twelve. except now it’s softer. fonder. stupid in love. “promise, shortstack.”
and then he starts moving again- slowly but oh so deep, already whispering the nastiest, sweetest things against your lips.
osamu’s never gonna let him live this down when he finds out he fucked his beat friend.
but right now?
right now atsumu doesn’t care.
he’s finally home. so close to the only person he’s ever really wanted.
and he’s never leaving.
for this req! i wrote this while i was out so its a little messy haha but i rly miss writing for hq so tysm for this idea ^_^ #goingbacktomyroots
