summary . . ৎ → in which ALEXIS NESS, the school's resident emo drummer and loser, somehow convinces the most popular cheerleader in school to join his battle of the bands lineup OR two polar opposite idiots refuse to admit they're obsessed with each other.
જ⁀➴ content: loser!ness x cheerleader!reader :: rodrick!ness x regina george!reader :: bastard münchen band au :: mutual obsession :: toxic chemistry :: needy/submissive ness :: power play dynamic :: kaiser being kaiser :: profanity :: contains bits of mature themes 18+ :: 5K WORDS
THE ANNUAL SPORTS WEEK was the one time of year the entire school pretended to have an alarming amount of spirit.
Monday was basketball. Tuesday was volleyball. Wednesday was track and field. Thursday was football. By Friday, every student had lost their voice from cheering and every teacher regretted approving the event in the first place.
This year, however, the student council had decided to raise the stakes.
Battle of the Bands.
Each Sports Week team was required to put together a band and perform one song on the final day. The winning performance earned enough points to completely change the overall rankings, which meant students who had never touched an instrument before were suddenly insisting they'd "always wanted to learn bass."
Team Gold had somehow assembled three musicians who all cared far too much about music and not nearly enough about cooperation. They had a drummer, a guitarist, and a bassist who could spend half an hour arguing over a single chord progression.
What they didn't have was a vocalist.
Which explained why Alexis Ness was weaving through the crowded hallways with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders, a pair of drumsticks sticking out from the side pocket and his tie hanging so crooked it had practically surrendered.
"Excuse me! Sorry. Really sorry."
He slipped between two sophomores carrying paint buckets for one of the Sports Week booths.
"Dude," one of them called after him, frowning at his shoes. "You stepped on my foot."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"That doesn't really help me."
"...Would another apology help?"
"No."
"...I'm still sorry."
By the time he reached the main building, the hallway had become impossible to walk through. Every club seemed to have claimed a corner, students rushed past carrying banners and sports equipment, and somewhere nearby a marching band was somehow making more noise than the volleyball team.
Ness stopped long enough to scan the hallway, his eyes darting from one classroom to another.
But every place he went through was all empty.
"...Where are you?"
Everyone knew where to find you eventually.
Whether you were with the cheer squad, the student council, or helping organize Sports Week, you somehow always ended up wherever the biggest crowd was.
Finding you should've been easy. So why had Ness already searched half the campus?
His phone buzzed.
Kaiser
WHERE ARE YOU
Ness
still looking...
Kaiser
YOU'VE BEEN "LOOKING" FOR HALF AN HOUR
Ness
I'm aware
Yukimiya
Rehearsal starts in 15.
Kaiser
I know.
I'm waiting on our drummer who's somehow losing a game of hide and seek to the MOST popular girl in school.
Ness
There's just a lot of people today.
Isagi
btw guys if you don’t mind it i added hiori and kurona
Kaiser
what?
Isagi
hiori's doing scheduling
kurona's bringing the equipment
Kaiser
Yoichi.
I asked you to reserve a rehearsal room.
How did you come back with two extra people???
Isagi
problem solved 👍
Kaiser
No.
The problem was "no vocalist."
You solved a completely different problem.
Hiori
Someone had to.
None of you can organize anything.
Kurona
i have a white van
big van
Kaiser
Wonderful.
Now I have logistics but still no SINGER.
Isagi
you're acting like they joined a family of 12
Yukimiya
Can we please focus?
We're running out of time.
Kaiser
yes can we LOCK IN for once
i'm not embarrassing myself in front of the whole school.
I'm not getting laughed off that stage because the rest of you decided to wing it.
Isagi
nobody said we were winging it
Kaiser
We don't have a singer.
That is the definition of winging it.
Ness
Don’t worry now. I'll find her.
Just... give me a little more time.
Kaiser
Fine.
Don't you dare come back without a vocalist.
With the group chat finally silenced, Ness let out a slow breath and slipped his phone into his pocket. One conversation. That was all he needed to survive. He'd ask, you'd reject him, and he'd go back to rehearsal so Kaiser could tell him he saw it coming.
He rounded the corner of the main building.
So did you.
Your shoulder bumped into his, and the paper cup in your hand lurched just enough for the lid to pop free. Hot coffee splashed across the front of his hoodie before either of you had time to react.
"...Ow."
Ness hissed quietly, staring at the stain spreading across the faded gray fabric. He pinched the soaked hoodie away from his skin with a pained grimace.
You glanced from the spilled coffee to his hoodie.
"...That's unfortunate."
Ness looked up.
"I..."
"Maybe look up once in a while. You'd be surprised how useful it is."
"Oh I mean... you weren't exactly watching either."
"No shit," you said with a careless shrug. "People usually move out of my way."
"...That's slightly unfair."
"I don't think it is."
You took another sip from what was left of your coffee as if the conversation had already ended.
Ness sighed through his nose and looked back down at the ruined hoodie. There was no saving it now. Coffee had soaked through the fabric, and the smell alone was going to haunt him for the rest of rehearsal.
Then something clicked.
"...Actually," he said, his smile returning, "there might be another way you can make it up to me...Our current band needs a vocalist."
"I think you hit your head harder than I thought. I'm not joining your band."
"We're competing in Battle of the Bands."
"I'm aware."
"So..."
"So you think spilling coffee on your hoodie somehow means I owe you a performance?"
Ness paused.
"...When you say it like that, it sounds less reasonable."
"Because it is less reasonable."
"I'm still saying no." You adjusted your grip on your coffee before stepping around him. "Gosh, i don't even sing."
Ness frowned.
"You do though..."
You paused just enough to glance at him over your shoulder.
"No, I don't."
"You do."
The certainty in his voice made you turn back around.
"You were cleaning your classroom a few weeks ago after school," he said. "There was a radio playing."
Your expression faltered for the first time.
"...You were there?"
"I was walking past."
The memory returned to him with surprising clarity. Rehearsal had ended late that afternoon, leaving the academic building unusually quiet. Most of the classrooms had already emptied, but one door had been left open while you stayed behind to finish cleaning. A broom rested against a desk as you absentmindedly wiped the whiteboard, humming under your breath before the humming turned into singing.
You weren't putting on a performance. If anything, you sounded completely unaware that anyone could hear you.
Ness thought your voice was pretty.
There was something easy about it, something genuine that made the empty hallway feel strangely less empty. What puzzled him most was that, despite being one of the school's cheerleaders, he'd never once seen your name on a choir roster or a band lineup. Someone with a voice like yours should've ended up in one of them eventually.
"Anyway, it wasn't on purpose," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I just... happened to hear you."
You studied him for another beat before letting out a quiet scoff.
"You realize that sounds incredibly creepy, right?"
"N-no. Please don’t think of that!" His words stumbled over themselves almost immediately. "The door was open, and... it carried into the hallway."
The explanation only made him sound guiltier.
You shook your head, amused despite yourself.
"Even if that's true, hearing someone sing once doesn't mean they're joining your shitty little garage band."
Ness stood there for a second, thinking. He wasn't particularly good at bargaining. In fact, he rarely had to. Usually people either agreed with him or, more often, Kaiser decided the conversation for him.
Then, rather clumsily, he landed on what he thought was a reasonable compromise.
"I'll buy your drinks every day for two weeks."
You stared at him.
"...That's cute. You actually think that'll work?"
"...I figured it probably would." He laughed quietly to himself. "Besides, i just don't really have anything else to offer."
Your gaze flickered to the coffee staining his hoodie before returning to his face. Somehow, despite being the one who'd ended up worse off, he was still trying to negotiate like he was the desperate one.
Which, admittedly, he was.
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.
"You're either really committed to this band or really bad at taking no for an answer."
"...Both," he admitted.
You stared at him.
"Wow. Most people would at least pretend to have dignity."
"I have dignity."
"You begged someone who spilled coffee on you to join your band."
Then you looked at him again for a long moment, searching his face for the punchline. There wasn't one. Shit. He really is completely serious.
Your eyes drifted to the coffee stain soaking the front of his hoodie before returning to the hopeful expression he'd been trying very hard to hide behind that polite smile of his.
"You know," you mused, "you're kind of pathetic."
Ness winced.
"...I've heard that before."
"I believe it."
A quiet sigh escaped you as you adjusted your bag higher onto your shoulder.
"Fine." You pointed at him before he could get too excited. "But let's manage your expectations. I'm doing you a favor. If rehearsals suck, I'm leaving."
"I'll make sure they aren't."
A laugh escaped you.
"You're hopeless."
"Does that mean you'll come?"
You rolled your eyes, already walking past him.
"I said yes, didn't I?"
Before you could answer, he caught your wrist and immediately started pulling you through the hallway.
"Wha—"
"We're late."
"Excuse me??"
"Rehearsal started three minutes ago," he sang lightly, weaving through the crowd while making sure you didn't get separated from him. "Kaiser is going to lose his mind if I show up any later."
He glanced back at you with a small grin, giving you a quick wink.
And with that, he turned on his heel and hurried toward the music building, his coffee stained hoodie suddenly feeling a lot less important.
The thing was, Ness had other options. He could have asked someone else to sing. Someone who probably would have agreed immediately and saved him the trouble of searching half the school.
But he didn't want someone else. Because, as ridiculous as it sounded, this had never really been just about finding a vocalist.
He had seen you around campus before. Everyone had. You were impossible to miss, always surrounded by people and carrying yourself like you belonged at the center of every room.
So when Battle of the Bands gave him an excuse to finally talk to you, Ness took it.
Maybe it was a terrible decision. Maybe Kaiser was going to lose his mind when he found out how much time he spent chasing one vocalist.
But Ness was already embarrassingly far gone.
He was stupidly, pathetically infatuated with you. And now he finally had a reason to be around you. To hear you talk, to see you actually pay attention to him, even if it was only because of the band. Now, he would take whatever time he could get. The rehearsals, the arguments, the insults, all of it.
Because, selfishly, Ness liked having a reason to keep you close.
And he wasn't ready to give that up yet.
By the time rehearsal started that afternoon, Team Gold finally had a vocalist. And with one week left until Battle of the Bands, they had just enough time to figure out whether these teenagers with wildly different personalities could somehow become a band. Or, more likely, kill each other trying.
Three days later, rehearsals had become less of a disaster and more of a controlled one.
The practice room still echoed with missed cues and arguments over tempos, but everyone had gradually settled into a rhythm. You learned where to stand, Kurona figured out how to fit everyone's equipment into his van without violating the laws of physics, and Hiori somehow managed to keep six teenagers on schedule using nothing but a shared calendar and thinly veiled disappointment.
Isagi, however, was nowhere to be seen.
"He said he can't make it," Yukimiya announced, glancing up from his phone.
Kaiser frowned. "Why?"
"He had a minor surgery."
"...What kind of surgery?"
Yukimiya paused.
"...He got a skin tag removed."
Kaiser stared.
"A skin tag."
Yukimiya nodded.
"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOICHI SKIPPED REHEARSAL OVER A SKIN TAG?"
"The doctor scheduled it today."
Kaiser threw his hands into the air.
"Does nobody in this band have a sense of urgency?? I'M NOT ABOUT TO BECOME THE SCHOOL'S BIGGEST JOKE BECAUSE YOICHI WANTED A SKIN TAG REMOVED."
You leaned toward Yukimiya, lowering your voice.
"...Is he always like this?"
Yukimiya didn't even hesitate.
"This is one of the better reactions."
"...Seriously?"
"Yeah. One time, he spent fifteen minutes lecturing us because one note was off tune."
"Um..." Ness glanced between everyone in the room before offering a small smile. "How about we take five?"
Nobody argued.
The room scattered almost immediately. Kurona wandered toward the vending machine while Hiori disappeared into the hallway with his headphones on. Ness stayed behind at the drum kit, absentmindedly twirling a stick between his fingers before tapping out a familiar rhythm against the snare.
Your head turned.
"...Wait... are you playing The Number of the Beast?"
The beat stopped.
Ness looked up, surprised.
"You know Iron Maiden?"
"I used to blast my heavy metal records through the house whenever I wanted to get on the old geezer's nerves."
A small laugh escaped him.
"For a cheerleader, you're surprisingly cultured."
You tilted your head. "Was that supposed to be a compliment, or did you just insult me in the nicest way possible?"
"Honestly? A little bit of both."
"Wow. You really said that out loud."
Ness smiled, realizing his mistake but not looking particularly sorry. "I just didn't expect someone like you to know Iron Maiden."
"Someone like me?"
"The kind of person everyone already knows."
That answer caught you off guard for a second. Not because it was flattering. You had heard better compliments from people trying much harder. It was because he said it like an observation, not an attempt to impress you.
"You're weird."
"I've been told."
"I can tell."
He laughed, and you hated that it was actually kind of funny.
"...Don't get excited. This doesn't mean you know me now."
Ness's smile only grew. "I wasn't going to."
"...Good."
He resumed the rhythm anyway, and this time, you found yourself tapping your foot along before you realized what you were doing.
It was irritating, really.
Normally, Ness was just an edgy loser in your eyes. The type of guy who probably listened to dramatic rock songs.
But behind the drums, he was different.
The confidence in every movement, the focus in his expression, the way he played like he owned the entire room. Unfortunately, it was working.
You stared for a second too long.
"Oh."
That was a problem. Because why was the weird edgy drummer actually kind of hot?
He is not even my type. At all. You think to yourself. To stop yourself from getting any more ideas, you decided to get away from this room.
"I'm done here."
Ness looked up, confused. "Already?"
"Yes, already." You slung your bag over your shoulder. "Besides, I have plans. I'm going to the mall."
"Right now?"
"Yes. And please, some of us have things to do that don't involve sitting in a room with boys arguing over instruments."
You started walking away before he could respond.
"See you at the next rehearsal. And please, for everyone's sake, don't make me regret saying yes."
You did not wait for a response, simply walking away and leaving Ness blinking in confusion behind the drum kit. He stared after you, drumsticks still in his hands, completely unsure of what had just happened. One second, you were watching him play. The next, you were gone.
And, strangely enough, he found himself wishing you had stayed longer. He had only just gotten used to having you there, seeing you actually enjoy the music instead of pretending you didn't care.
He knew this was only for Sports Week. After the performance, you would go back to your own world, and he would go back to his.
But still, he wished you had stayed a little longer.
By the fourth rehearsal, the music was improving. However, the same could not be said for the band’s ability to exist in the same room without causing a problem.
"...This part needs to change."
Kaiser dropped the revised sheet music onto the table, immediately earning a tired look from Hiori.
"You changed the entire second half."
"Yes."
"We practiced this version yesterday."
"And yesterday we were wrong."
You looked up from your phone, unimpressed. "Do you always make everyone's life harder, or is today a special occasion?"
The room went quiet. Kaiser slowly turned toward you. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Ness immediately stopped tapping his drumsticks against his leg. He had a feeling this was about to become a problem. Kaiser picked up the sheet music again, his expression already becoming dramatic.
"Some of us actually care about winning."
"Some of us actually care about not making everyone miserable."
"I am trying to make this performance better."
"No. You're trying to make sure everyone knows it was your idea."
Kaiser stared at you.
"You've been here for four days."
"And you've been unbearable for longer. What's your point?"
The rest of the band suddenly became very interested in their instruments. Kaiser stepped closer
"You really think you can walk in here and start criticizing everyone?"
You smiled slightly. "That's funny coming from you."
"And why is that?"
"Because you walked into this room and immediately acted like you were the only person here with a functioning brain."
Kaiser scoffed. "I have standards."
"No, you have an ego."
A pause.
Then Kaiser placed a hand over his chest like you had personally wounded him.
"Wow."
You rolled your eyes. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Whatever dramatic performance you're doing right now. We're rehearsing, not auditioning for your personal tragedy."
A few people looked away to hide their reactions.
Kaiser narrowed his eyes. "You think being popular means everyone has to listen to you?"
Your expression never changed, but somewhere in the back of your mind, the first draft of Michael Kaiser's social demise was already taking shape.
"No."
You leaned back in your chair.
"I think being right means people should listen to me."
Kaiser opened his mouth, clearly ready with a comeback, only to pause when nothing came out. For once, he had been caught off guard.
"What now?" you said, watching him struggle. "Did your ego crash? Should we restart it?"
Before he recovered, Ness spoke up.
"Kaiser."
Everyone looked over.
"She's right."
The room fell silent. Even Kaiser, who usually had something to say about everything, looked personally betrayed.
"Ness?"
Ness shifted slightly under the attention but didn't take it back. "You're changing things because you're worried about the performance going badly."
"Jump in like I need someone to fight my battles."
"I wasn't saying that."
"You were."
Ness hesitated. "I was just trying to help."
"I don't need help."
His expression softened slightly. "I know."
You hated how sincere he sounded. Somehow, that only made it worse.
Kaiser crossed his arms. "Unbelievable."
You turned toward him. "What?"
"You two are already exhausting."
"Coming from you?"
"YES, COMING FROM ME."
Hiori sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Can we please finish rehearsing before the two biggest egos in this room start another argument?"
You and Kaiser immediately looked at each other.
"He started it!"
"She started it."
Kurona glanced between the two of you, completely unfazed by the argument. After a moment of silence, he simply stuck his tongue out.
"Both started it."
Nobody had a response.
Hiori was the first to break the silence, glancing down at the supply list on his phone. "We're missing extra cables, batteries, and a few replacement picks."
Everyone looked at Kaiser. Kaiser looked back.
"Don't look at me like that."
"You are the one who changed the setup three times," Hiori said.
"And somehow, the setup is better now."
"That doesn't explain why we're missing half the equipment."
Kaiser clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed that the problem had somehow become his responsibility. His eyes scanned the room before landing on the two people who had spent the last ten minutes arguing with him.
You immediately noticed.
"No."
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "I didn't even say anything."
"You didn't have to. Your face already did."
"You're getting the supplies."
"Absolutely not."
"You joined this band voluntarily."
Ness quietly picked up the list before the argument could spiral again. "I'll go."
Kaiser immediately nodded. "Good. Take her with you."
You opened your mouth, already preparing to explain exactly why that was a terrible idea and why Kaiser clearly had a personal vendetta against your free time. However, you didn't get the chance. Ness was already picking up the supply list, turning toward you with that annoyingly polite smile of his.
"Come on...the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."
You stared at him for a moment, mostly because you couldn't decide whether to be annoyed at Kaiser for volunteering you or Ness for making it impossible to argue.
And somehow, that was how you ended up leaving rehearsal with Ness, a supply list, and the lingering annoyance from an argument neither of you had actually moved past.
The trip was supposed to be quick.
Grab the equipment. Come back. Pretend this band wasn't one bad comment away from collapsing.
However, due to a much terrible luck, the weather suddenly turned against you.
The rain hammered against the convenience store's windows like gravel, but the real storm was inside the narrow aisle between the refrigerated drinks and the stale snack shelves. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering with an erratic rhythm that mirrored the pounding in Ness's chest.
The silence between the two of you had been tense ever since rehearsal. Ness stepping in during your argument with Kaiser was supposed to be supportive, but to you, it felt like he had crossed a line. He hadn't just disagreed with Kaiser; he had decided you needed protecting, and that was something you refused to tolerate.
To anyone else, Ness had been a hero. To you, he had been an insult. He had acted as if you couldn't handle the heat, as if he had the right to decide when you needed a shield.
You weren't a damsel in need of rescue; you were a hurricane waiting to break. And Ness, with his infuriatingly earnest eyes and his desperate need to please, had just walked right into the eye of it.
"H-hey," Ness stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to organize a display of protein bars. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely grip the packaging. "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have I know you can handle him, I just..."
You didn't let him finish. You moved before he could retreat into another pathetic apology. You crossed the linoleum floor in two strides, your boots clicking sharply like a countdown.
When you reached him, you didn't hesitate. You grabbed the front of his damp shirt and slammed him back against the metal shelf.
The clang of the shelves reverberated through the empty store, but you didn't care. You shoved your body against his, pinning him there, letting him feel every inch of your fury.
Ness froze. His breath hitched audibly, his magenta eyes widening until they looked almost violet in the dim light. "Um... what are you—"
"You think you can protect me?" you hissed, your face inches from his. "You think you get to decide when I need help?"
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely black. "I-I didn't mean..."
"Then what exactly did you mean?"
For once, Ness had no quick apology ready.
"I just didn't like seeing him talk to you like that."
You hated how genuine that sounded. Because it wasn't him looking down on you. It was just Ness being annoyingly sincere.
You studied him for a second, noticing he wasn't arguing back or trying to justify himself. He was just waiting.
"Ness."
"Yeah?"
A small pause.
"You're not going to freak out if I do something?"
His eyes widened slightly at the question. Then, he finally seemed to put the pieces together, and for once, Ness had no immediate apology or nervous rambling.
"No."
Good.
That was all the answer you needed. You didn't give him another chance to overthink it. You closed the distance between you.
You bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a sharp, startled whimper from his throat, and the moment you did, Ness broke. All the pent up tension, all the energy he had been hoarding since the moment he met you, exploded.
He didn't try to take control. He couldn't. Instead, he surrendered to you with a terrifying intensity. His hands flew to your waist, not to push you away, but to drag you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as if he were drowning and you were his only oxygen. His mouth opened to yours in a desperate, starving moan, his tongue seeking yours with a frantic, uncoordinated hunger that screamed how long he had been waiting for you to acknowledge him.
Then came his hands.
The moment your hips pressed against his, Ness's fingers slid down. His touch was reverent but desperate, fumbling at the hem of your clothes until his palms found the bare skin of your thighs. When he made contact, he let out a sound that was half sob, half growl. His grip became bruising, his fingers kneading into your thighs with a possessive ferocity that matched your own anger. He hiked your legs up higher, wrapping them around his waist to anchor you to him, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps against your mouth.
"Please," he whimpered between kisses, his forehead crashing against yours as he fought for air. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and utterly wrecked. "I'm sorry... please, just don't stop. Don't punish me like this, unless unless you want to."
The power dynamic was absolute. You were the one directing the heat, the one setting the pace, the one deciding how deep his fingers sank into your flesh. And Ness? He was exactly what you wanted him to be: a pathetic, beautiful mess at your mercy, worshiping the very hand that was putting him in his place.
But as the rain outside shifted from a roar to a steady drone, the reality of their situation bled back in. The adrenaline began to cool, leaving behind nothing but the sharp sting of sweat and the ache of unspoken words.
Ness was the first to break away, though not because he wanted to. His hands lingered on your thighs for one agonizing second too long his fingertips still twitching against your skin before he forced them to retreat.
He stumbled back a half step, his chest heaving as he tried to reclaim some semblance of composure.
His hair was a messy disaster, sticking to his forehead in damp strands, and his lips were swollen and flushed a deep crimson. He looked utterly wrecked, his magenta eyes still glassy with residual worship, but he was already moving to fix his shirt with unsteady, shaking hands.
"We-we should go," he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and cracked. He wouldn't meet your eyes, but the way his Adam's apple bobbed spoke volumes about how hard he was fighting to keep his knees from buckling. "Kaiser will... he'll notice if we're late."
You stared at him for a second.
"You're seriously thinking about Kaiser right now?"
Ness blinked.
"We have rehearsal."
The threat of Kaiser's disapproval acted like a cold splash of water. You straightened your clothes, your fingers cool and steady compared to his. After that, you grabbed your things and walked past him.
"Come on. Before your precious Kaiser has another meltdown."
Ness grabbed the remaining supplies, his knuckles white around the plastic handles. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched as he led the way toward the door.
Neither of you brought it up again. The Rehearsal continued and before either of you could make sense of it, Sports Week was already drawing to its finale.
By the time Team Gold was called to the stage, it was almost hard to believe they had made it this far.
A week ago, Ness had been running through crowded hallways with a coffee stained hoodie, desperately searching for a vocalist. Now, he was walking onto a stage with you beside him. Somehow, the group that had spent most of their rehearsals arguing had become a real band.
Kaiser was still Kaiser, finding something to complain about even moments before going on stage. Hiori was still the only thing keeping the entire band from falling apart. Isagi was still playing referee. Yukimiya had mastered the art of pretending he wasn't involved. Kurona was still… Kurona.
And Ness was still the same annoying drummer who somehow ended up in your life.
Still too polite and still too eager to help. Still looking way too pleased whenever you gave him even the slightest bit of attention. You called him pathetic for it. He still acted like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.
Then the announcement echoed across the field.
"Representing Team Gold..."
The crowd erupted as the four of you stepped onto the stage.
Ness settled behind the drums, spinning his sticks once before looking up. For a moment, his eyes met yours.
Then the music started.
[Team Gold performs "Black Sheep" by Metric.]
The first guitar strum cut through the field, drawing the crowd's attention.
Then your voice entered, carrying the opening before the bass joined in and the rest of the band followed. The stage slowly built around the song.
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Ness waited behind the drums, letting the rhythm settle before joining in. When he did, every hit landed perfectly with the beat, driving the performance forward.
Send you my love on a wire
Lift you up, every time
Everyone, ooh-ooh
Pulls away, ooh-ooh
The guitar, bass, drums, and vocals blended together effortlessly, filling the field with the kind of energy nobody expected from a band that had spent the past week fighting over every detail.
It's a mechanical bull, the number one
You'll take a ride from anyone
Everyone wants a ride
Pulls away, ooh-ooh
From you, ooh
The crowd grew louder with every section of the song. Under the stage lights, everything finally came together.
The music, the timing, the four of you—it all came together. When the final note rang out and the field erupted into cheers, you realized Team Gold had actually done it.
And somehow, you caught yourself smiling.
Unfortunately, Ness noticed.
Of course he did.
As the four of you stepped off the stage, the adrenaline slowly began to fade. The crowd was still loud behind you, but the performance was over.
"Well," Kaiser said, looking far too pleased with himself. "At least none of you ruined my reputation."
"Your reputation survived a school band performance?" you asked. "Congratulations. Should we throw a parade?"
Kaiser scoffed, but before he could respond, the group started splitting up to join their respective teams.
Hiori grabbed the equipment list. Kurona disappeared with the instruments. Kaiser was already busy talking about the judges' reactions.
And then it was just you and Ness for a moment.
"So..." Ness started, awkwardly adjusting the drumsticks in his hand. "I guess that's it."
You looked at him. "Don't sound so dramatic. It's not like we're never seeing each other again."
"Right." He smiled. "Of course."
You paused before walking away.
"You weren't completely terrible, by the way."
Ness blinked.
"Was that a compliment?"
"Don't ruin it."
His smile only grew. "Wouldn't dream of it."
As you turned to walk away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back that same intense, unwavering stare that had followed you through every rehearsal and every stolen moment. You didn't get five steps before you heard the quick scuff of his sneakers against the linoleum.
"Wait-"
You stopped and turned, half expecting another stammered apology. Instead, Ness was standing there, breathing shallowly, his knuckles white around the drumsticks. The performative persona he wore for the others had completely stripped away, leaving behind something far more unguarded.
He didn't ask for permission. Driven by something you couldn't quite name, he stepped forward and closed the distance between you.
Before you could speak, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was desperate and achingly sweet. The kiss felt full of gratitude and hunger, a messy, breathless collision that made the fading noise of the background vanish entirely. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the heat of his mouth against yours and the way his free hand trembled as it hovered near your waist, uncertain but unwilling to let go.
When he finally pulled away, he didn't retreat. He lingered there, forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged as he tried to find his footing again.
"See you around at school," you murmured, your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest. "And don't get used to this, you’re still annoying."
Ness let out a shaky breath, a dazed, beautiful smile spreading across his flushed face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there."
You shook your head at how easily pleased he was and turned away. But this time, you didn't mind him following a few steps behind.
summary . . ৎ → in which ALEXIS NESS, the school's resident emo drummer and loser, somehow convinces the most popular cheerleader in school to join his battle of the bands lineup OR two polar opposite idiots refuse to admit they're obsessed with each other.
જ⁀➴ content: loser!ness x cheerleader!reader :: rodrick!ness x regina george!reader :: bastard münchen band au :: mutual obsession :: toxic chemistry :: needy/submissive ness :: power play dynamic :: kaiser being kaiser :: profanity :: contains bits of mature themes 18+ :: 5K WORDS
THE ANNUAL SPORTS WEEK was the one time of year the entire school pretended to have an alarming amount of spirit.
Monday was basketball. Tuesday was volleyball. Wednesday was track and field. Thursday was football. By Friday, every student had lost their voice from cheering and every teacher regretted approving the event in the first place.
This year, however, the student council had decided to raise the stakes.
Battle of the Bands.
Each Sports Week team was required to put together a band and perform one song on the final day. The winning performance earned enough points to completely change the overall rankings, which meant students who had never touched an instrument before were suddenly insisting they'd "always wanted to learn bass."
Team Gold had somehow assembled three musicians who all cared far too much about music and not nearly enough about cooperation. They had a drummer, a guitarist, and a bassist who could spend half an hour arguing over a single chord progression.
What they didn't have was a vocalist.
Which explained why Alexis Ness was weaving through the crowded hallways with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders, a pair of drumsticks sticking out from the side pocket and his tie hanging so crooked it had practically surrendered.
"Excuse me! Sorry. Really sorry."
He slipped between two sophomores carrying paint buckets for one of the Sports Week booths.
"Dude," one of them called after him, frowning at his shoes. "You stepped on my foot."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"That doesn't really help me."
"...Would another apology help?"
"No."
"...I'm still sorry."
By the time he reached the main building, the hallway had become impossible to walk through. Every club seemed to have claimed a corner, students rushed past carrying banners and sports equipment, and somewhere nearby a marching band was somehow making more noise than the volleyball team.
Ness stopped long enough to scan the hallway, his eyes darting from one classroom to another.
But every place he went through was all empty.
"...Where are you?"
Everyone knew where to find you eventually.
Whether you were with the cheer squad, the student council, or helping organize Sports Week, you somehow always ended up wherever the biggest crowd was.
Finding you should've been easy. So why had Ness already searched half the campus?
His phone buzzed.
Kaiser
WHERE ARE YOU
Ness
still looking...
Kaiser
YOU'VE BEEN "LOOKING" FOR HALF AN HOUR
Ness
I'm aware
Yukimiya
Rehearsal starts in 15.
Kaiser
I know.
I'm waiting on our drummer who's somehow losing a game of hide and seek to the MOST popular girl in school.
Ness
There's just a lot of people today.
Isagi
btw guys if you don’t mind it i added hiori and kurona
Kaiser
what?
Isagi
hiori's doing scheduling
kurona's bringing the equipment
Kaiser
Yoichi.
I asked you to reserve a rehearsal room.
How did you come back with two extra people???
Isagi
problem solved 👍
Kaiser
No.
The problem was "no vocalist."
You solved a completely different problem.
Hiori
Someone had to.
None of you can organize anything.
Kurona
i have a white van
big van
Kaiser
Wonderful.
Now I have logistics but still no SINGER.
Isagi
you're acting like they joined a family of 12
Yukimiya
Can we please focus?
We're running out of time.
Kaiser
yes can we LOCK IN for once
i'm not embarrassing myself in front of the whole school.
I'm not getting laughed off that stage because the rest of you decided to wing it.
Isagi
nobody said we were winging it
Kaiser
We don't have a singer.
That is the definition of winging it.
Ness
Don’t worry now. I'll find her.
Just... give me a little more time.
Kaiser
Fine.
Don't you dare come back without a vocalist.
With the group chat finally silenced, Ness let out a slow breath and slipped his phone into his pocket. One conversation. That was all he needed to survive. He'd ask, you'd reject him, and he'd go back to rehearsal so Kaiser could tell him he saw it coming.
He rounded the corner of the main building.
So did you.
Your shoulder bumped into his, and the paper cup in your hand lurched just enough for the lid to pop free. Hot coffee splashed across the front of his hoodie before either of you had time to react.
"...Ow."
Ness hissed quietly, staring at the stain spreading across the faded gray fabric. He pinched the soaked hoodie away from his skin with a pained grimace.
You glanced from the spilled coffee to his hoodie.
"...That's unfortunate."
Ness looked up.
"I..."
"Maybe look up once in a while. You'd be surprised how useful it is."
"Oh I mean... you weren't exactly watching either."
"No shit," you said with a careless shrug. "People usually move out of my way."
"...That's slightly unfair."
"I don't think it is."
You took another sip from what was left of your coffee as if the conversation had already ended.
Ness sighed through his nose and looked back down at the ruined hoodie. There was no saving it now. Coffee had soaked through the fabric, and the smell alone was going to haunt him for the rest of rehearsal.
Then something clicked.
"...Actually," he said, his smile returning, "there might be another way you can make it up to me...Our current band needs a vocalist."
"I think you hit your head harder than I thought. I'm not joining your band."
"We're competing in Battle of the Bands."
"I'm aware."
"So..."
"So you think spilling coffee on your hoodie somehow means I owe you a performance?"
Ness paused.
"...When you say it like that, it sounds less reasonable."
"Because it is less reasonable."
"I'm still saying no." You adjusted your grip on your coffee before stepping around him. "Gosh, i don't even sing."
Ness frowned.
"You do though..."
You paused just enough to glance at him over your shoulder.
"No, I don't."
"You do."
The certainty in his voice made you turn back around.
"You were cleaning your classroom a few weeks ago after school," he said. "There was a radio playing."
Your expression faltered for the first time.
"...You were there?"
"I was walking past."
The memory returned to him with surprising clarity. Rehearsal had ended late that afternoon, leaving the academic building unusually quiet. Most of the classrooms had already emptied, but one door had been left open while you stayed behind to finish cleaning. A broom rested against a desk as you absentmindedly wiped the whiteboard, humming under your breath before the humming turned into singing.
You weren't putting on a performance. If anything, you sounded completely unaware that anyone could hear you.
Ness thought your voice was pretty.
There was something easy about it, something genuine that made the empty hallway feel strangely less empty. What puzzled him most was that, despite being one of the school's cheerleaders, he'd never once seen your name on a choir roster or a band lineup. Someone with a voice like yours should've ended up in one of them eventually.
"Anyway, it wasn't on purpose," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I just... happened to hear you."
You studied him for another beat before letting out a quiet scoff.
"You realize that sounds incredibly creepy, right?"
"N-no. Please don’t think of that!" His words stumbled over themselves almost immediately. "The door was open, and... it carried into the hallway."
The explanation only made him sound guiltier.
You shook your head, amused despite yourself.
"Even if that's true, hearing someone sing once doesn't mean they're joining your shitty little garage band."
Ness stood there for a second, thinking. He wasn't particularly good at bargaining. In fact, he rarely had to. Usually people either agreed with him or, more often, Kaiser decided the conversation for him.
Then, rather clumsily, he landed on what he thought was a reasonable compromise.
"I'll buy your drinks every day for two weeks."
You stared at him.
"...That's cute. You actually think that'll work?"
"...I figured it probably would." He laughed quietly to himself. "Besides, i just don't really have anything else to offer."
Your gaze flickered to the coffee staining his hoodie before returning to his face. Somehow, despite being the one who'd ended up worse off, he was still trying to negotiate like he was the desperate one.
Which, admittedly, he was.
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.
"You're either really committed to this band or really bad at taking no for an answer."
"...Both," he admitted.
You stared at him.
"Wow. Most people would at least pretend to have dignity."
"I have dignity."
"You begged someone who spilled coffee on you to join your band."
Then you looked at him again for a long moment, searching his face for the punchline. There wasn't one. Shit. He really is completely serious.
Your eyes drifted to the coffee stain soaking the front of his hoodie before returning to the hopeful expression he'd been trying very hard to hide behind that polite smile of his.
"You know," you mused, "you're kind of pathetic."
Ness winced.
"...I've heard that before."
"I believe it."
A quiet sigh escaped you as you adjusted your bag higher onto your shoulder.
"Fine." You pointed at him before he could get too excited. "But let's manage your expectations. I'm doing you a favor. If rehearsals suck, I'm leaving."
"I'll make sure they aren't."
A laugh escaped you.
"You're hopeless."
"Does that mean you'll come?"
You rolled your eyes, already walking past him.
"I said yes, didn't I?"
Before you could answer, he caught your wrist and immediately started pulling you through the hallway.
"Wha—"
"We're late."
"Excuse me??"
"Rehearsal started three minutes ago," he sang lightly, weaving through the crowd while making sure you didn't get separated from him. "Kaiser is going to lose his mind if I show up any later."
He glanced back at you with a small grin, giving you a quick wink.
And with that, he turned on his heel and hurried toward the music building, his coffee stained hoodie suddenly feeling a lot less important.
The thing was, Ness had other options. He could have asked someone else to sing. Someone who probably would have agreed immediately and saved him the trouble of searching half the school.
But he didn't want someone else. Because, as ridiculous as it sounded, this had never really been just about finding a vocalist.
He had seen you around campus before. Everyone had. You were impossible to miss, always surrounded by people and carrying yourself like you belonged at the center of every room.
So when Battle of the Bands gave him an excuse to finally talk to you, Ness took it.
Maybe it was a terrible decision. Maybe Kaiser was going to lose his mind when he found out how much time he spent chasing one vocalist.
But Ness was already embarrassingly far gone.
He was stupidly, pathetically infatuated with you. And now he finally had a reason to be around you. To hear you talk, to see you actually pay attention to him, even if it was only because of the band. Now, he would take whatever time he could get. The rehearsals, the arguments, the insults, all of it.
Because, selfishly, Ness liked having a reason to keep you close.
And he wasn't ready to give that up yet.
By the time rehearsal started that afternoon, Team Gold finally had a vocalist. And with one week left until Battle of the Bands, they had just enough time to figure out whether these teenagers with wildly different personalities could somehow become a band. Or, more likely, kill each other trying.
Three days later, rehearsals had become less of a disaster and more of a controlled one.
The practice room still echoed with missed cues and arguments over tempos, but everyone had gradually settled into a rhythm. You learned where to stand, Kurona figured out how to fit everyone's equipment into his van without violating the laws of physics, and Hiori somehow managed to keep six teenagers on schedule using nothing but a shared calendar and thinly veiled disappointment.
Isagi, however, was nowhere to be seen.
"He said he can't make it," Yukimiya announced, glancing up from his phone.
Kaiser frowned. "Why?"
"He had a minor surgery."
"...What kind of surgery?"
Yukimiya paused.
"...He got a skin tag removed."
Kaiser stared.
"A skin tag."
Yukimiya nodded.
"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOICHI SKIPPED REHEARSAL OVER A SKIN TAG?"
"The doctor scheduled it today."
Kaiser threw his hands into the air.
"Does nobody in this band have a sense of urgency?? I'M NOT ABOUT TO BECOME THE SCHOOL'S BIGGEST JOKE BECAUSE YOICHI WANTED A SKIN TAG REMOVED."
You leaned toward Yukimiya, lowering your voice.
"...Is he always like this?"
Yukimiya didn't even hesitate.
"This is one of the better reactions."
"...Seriously?"
"Yeah. One time, he spent fifteen minutes lecturing us because one note was off tune."
"Um..." Ness glanced between everyone in the room before offering a small smile. "How about we take five?"
Nobody argued.
The room scattered almost immediately. Kurona wandered toward the vending machine while Hiori disappeared into the hallway with his headphones on. Ness stayed behind at the drum kit, absentmindedly twirling a stick between his fingers before tapping out a familiar rhythm against the snare.
Your head turned.
"...Wait... are you playing The Number of the Beast?"
The beat stopped.
Ness looked up, surprised.
"You know Iron Maiden?"
"I used to blast my heavy metal records through the house whenever I wanted to get on the old geezer's nerves."
A small laugh escaped him.
"For a cheerleader, you're surprisingly cultured."
You tilted your head. "Was that supposed to be a compliment, or did you just insult me in the nicest way possible?"
"Honestly? A little bit of both."
"Wow. You really said that out loud."
Ness smiled, realizing his mistake but not looking particularly sorry. "I just didn't expect someone like you to know Iron Maiden."
"Someone like me?"
"The kind of person everyone already knows."
That answer caught you off guard for a second. Not because it was flattering. You had heard better compliments from people trying much harder. It was because he said it like an observation, not an attempt to impress you.
"You're weird."
"I've been told."
"I can tell."
He laughed, and you hated that it was actually kind of funny.
"...Don't get excited. This doesn't mean you know me now."
Ness's smile only grew. "I wasn't going to."
"...Good."
He resumed the rhythm anyway, and this time, you found yourself tapping your foot along before you realized what you were doing.
It was irritating, really.
Normally, Ness was just an edgy loser in your eyes. The type of guy who probably listened to dramatic rock songs.
But behind the drums, he was different.
The confidence in every movement, the focus in his expression, the way he played like he owned the entire room. Unfortunately, it was working.
You stared for a second too long.
"Oh."
That was a problem. Because why was the weird edgy drummer actually kind of hot?
He is not even my type. At all. You think to yourself. To stop yourself from getting any more ideas, you decided to get away from this room.
"I'm done here."
Ness looked up, confused. "Already?"
"Yes, already." You slung your bag over your shoulder. "Besides, I have plans. I'm going to the mall."
"Right now?"
"Yes. And please, some of us have things to do that don't involve sitting in a room with boys arguing over instruments."
You started walking away before he could respond.
"See you at the next rehearsal. And please, for everyone's sake, don't make me regret saying yes."
You did not wait for a response, simply walking away and leaving Ness blinking in confusion behind the drum kit. He stared after you, drumsticks still in his hands, completely unsure of what had just happened. One second, you were watching him play. The next, you were gone.
And, strangely enough, he found himself wishing you had stayed longer. He had only just gotten used to having you there, seeing you actually enjoy the music instead of pretending you didn't care.
He knew this was only for Sports Week. After the performance, you would go back to your own world, and he would go back to his.
But still, he wished you had stayed a little longer.
By the fourth rehearsal, the music was improving. However, the same could not be said for the band’s ability to exist in the same room without causing a problem.
"...This part needs to change."
Kaiser dropped the revised sheet music onto the table, immediately earning a tired look from Hiori.
"You changed the entire second half."
"Yes."
"We practiced this version yesterday."
"And yesterday we were wrong."
You looked up from your phone, unimpressed. "Do you always make everyone's life harder, or is today a special occasion?"
The room went quiet. Kaiser slowly turned toward you. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Ness immediately stopped tapping his drumsticks against his leg. He had a feeling this was about to become a problem. Kaiser picked up the sheet music again, his expression already becoming dramatic.
"Some of us actually care about winning."
"Some of us actually care about not making everyone miserable."
"I am trying to make this performance better."
"No. You're trying to make sure everyone knows it was your idea."
Kaiser stared at you.
"You've been here for four days."
"And you've been unbearable for longer. What's your point?"
The rest of the band suddenly became very interested in their instruments. Kaiser stepped closer
"You really think you can walk in here and start criticizing everyone?"
You smiled slightly. "That's funny coming from you."
"And why is that?"
"Because you walked into this room and immediately acted like you were the only person here with a functioning brain."
Kaiser scoffed. "I have standards."
"No, you have an ego."
A pause.
Then Kaiser placed a hand over his chest like you had personally wounded him.
"Wow."
You rolled your eyes. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Whatever dramatic performance you're doing right now. We're rehearsing, not auditioning for your personal tragedy."
A few people looked away to hide their reactions.
Kaiser narrowed his eyes. "You think being popular means everyone has to listen to you?"
Your expression never changed, but somewhere in the back of your mind, the first draft of Michael Kaiser's social demise was already taking shape.
"No."
You leaned back in your chair.
"I think being right means people should listen to me."
Kaiser opened his mouth, clearly ready with a comeback, only to pause when nothing came out. For once, he had been caught off guard.
"What now?" you said, watching him struggle. "Did your ego crash? Should we restart it?"
Before he recovered, Ness spoke up.
"Kaiser."
Everyone looked over.
"She's right."
The room fell silent. Even Kaiser, who usually had something to say about everything, looked personally betrayed.
"Ness?"
Ness shifted slightly under the attention but didn't take it back. "You're changing things because you're worried about the performance going badly."
"Jump in like I need someone to fight my battles."
"I wasn't saying that."
"You were."
Ness hesitated. "I was just trying to help."
"I don't need help."
His expression softened slightly. "I know."
You hated how sincere he sounded. Somehow, that only made it worse.
Kaiser crossed his arms. "Unbelievable."
You turned toward him. "What?"
"You two are already exhausting."
"Coming from you?"
"YES, COMING FROM ME."
Hiori sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Can we please finish rehearsing before the two biggest egos in this room start another argument?"
You and Kaiser immediately looked at each other.
"He started it!"
"She started it."
Kurona glanced between the two of you, completely unfazed by the argument. After a moment of silence, he simply stuck his tongue out.
"Both started it."
Nobody had a response.
Hiori was the first to break the silence, glancing down at the supply list on his phone. "We're missing extra cables, batteries, and a few replacement picks."
Everyone looked at Kaiser. Kaiser looked back.
"Don't look at me like that."
"You are the one who changed the setup three times," Hiori said.
"And somehow, the setup is better now."
"That doesn't explain why we're missing half the equipment."
Kaiser clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed that the problem had somehow become his responsibility. His eyes scanned the room before landing on the two people who had spent the last ten minutes arguing with him.
You immediately noticed.
"No."
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "I didn't even say anything."
"You didn't have to. Your face already did."
"You're getting the supplies."
"Absolutely not."
"You joined this band voluntarily."
Ness quietly picked up the list before the argument could spiral again. "I'll go."
Kaiser immediately nodded. "Good. Take her with you."
You opened your mouth, already preparing to explain exactly why that was a terrible idea and why Kaiser clearly had a personal vendetta against your free time. However, you didn't get the chance. Ness was already picking up the supply list, turning toward you with that annoyingly polite smile of his.
"Come on...the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."
You stared at him for a moment, mostly because you couldn't decide whether to be annoyed at Kaiser for volunteering you or Ness for making it impossible to argue.
And somehow, that was how you ended up leaving rehearsal with Ness, a supply list, and the lingering annoyance from an argument neither of you had actually moved past.
The trip was supposed to be quick.
Grab the equipment. Come back. Pretend this band wasn't one bad comment away from collapsing.
However, due to a much terrible luck, the weather suddenly turned against you.
The rain hammered against the convenience store's windows like gravel, but the real storm was inside the narrow aisle between the refrigerated drinks and the stale snack shelves. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering with an erratic rhythm that mirrored the pounding in Ness's chest.
The silence between the two of you had been tense ever since rehearsal. Ness stepping in during your argument with Kaiser was supposed to be supportive, but to you, it felt like he had crossed a line. He hadn't just disagreed with Kaiser; he had decided you needed protecting, and that was something you refused to tolerate.
To anyone else, Ness had been a hero. To you, he had been an insult. He had acted as if you couldn't handle the heat, as if he had the right to decide when you needed a shield.
You weren't a damsel in need of rescue; you were a hurricane waiting to break. And Ness, with his infuriatingly earnest eyes and his desperate need to please, had just walked right into the eye of it.
"H-hey," Ness stammered, his voice cracking as he tried to organize a display of protein bars. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely grip the packaging. "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have I know you can handle him, I just..."
You didn't let him finish. You moved before he could retreat into another pathetic apology. You crossed the linoleum floor in two strides, your boots clicking sharply like a countdown.
When you reached him, you didn't hesitate. You grabbed the front of his damp shirt and slammed him back against the metal shelf.
The clang of the shelves reverberated through the empty store, but you didn't care. You shoved your body against his, pinning him there, letting him feel every inch of your fury.
Ness froze. His breath hitched audibly, his magenta eyes widening until they looked almost violet in the dim light. "Um... what are you—"
"You think you can protect me?" you hissed, your face inches from his. "You think you get to decide when I need help?"
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely black. "I-I didn't mean..."
"Then what exactly did you mean?"
For once, Ness had no quick apology ready.
"I just didn't like seeing him talk to you like that."
You hated how genuine that sounded. Because it wasn't him looking down on you. It was just Ness being annoyingly sincere.
You studied him for a second, noticing he wasn't arguing back or trying to justify himself. He was just waiting.
"Ness."
"Yeah?"
A small pause.
"You're not going to freak out if I do something?"
His eyes widened slightly at the question. Then, he finally seemed to put the pieces together, and for once, Ness had no immediate apology or nervous rambling.
"No."
Good.
That was all the answer you needed. You didn't give him another chance to overthink it. You closed the distance between you.
You bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a sharp, startled whimper from his throat, and the moment you did, Ness broke. All the pent up tension, all the energy he had been hoarding since the moment he met you, exploded.
He didn't try to take control. He couldn't. Instead, he surrendered to you with a terrifying intensity. His hands flew to your waist, not to push you away, but to drag you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as if he were drowning and you were his only oxygen. His mouth opened to yours in a desperate, starving moan, his tongue seeking yours with a frantic, uncoordinated hunger that screamed how long he had been waiting for you to acknowledge him.
Then came his hands.
The moment your hips pressed against his, Ness's fingers slid down. His touch was reverent but desperate, fumbling at the hem of your clothes until his palms found the bare skin of your thighs. When he made contact, he let out a sound that was half sob, half growl. His grip became bruising, his fingers kneading into your thighs with a possessive ferocity that matched your own anger. He hiked your legs up higher, wrapping them around his waist to anchor you to him, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps against your mouth.
"Please," he whimpered between kisses, his forehead crashing against yours as he fought for air. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and utterly wrecked. "I'm sorry... please, just don't stop. Don't punish me like this, unless unless you want to."
The power dynamic was absolute. You were the one directing the heat, the one setting the pace, the one deciding how deep his fingers sank into your flesh. And Ness? He was exactly what you wanted him to be: a pathetic, beautiful mess at your mercy, worshiping the very hand that was putting him in his place.
But as the rain outside shifted from a roar to a steady drone, the reality of their situation bled back in. The adrenaline began to cool, leaving behind nothing but the sharp sting of sweat and the ache of unspoken words.
Ness was the first to break away, though not because he wanted to. His hands lingered on your thighs for one agonizing second too long his fingertips still twitching against your skin before he forced them to retreat.
He stumbled back a half step, his chest heaving as he tried to reclaim some semblance of composure.
His hair was a messy disaster, sticking to his forehead in damp strands, and his lips were swollen and flushed a deep crimson. He looked utterly wrecked, his magenta eyes still glassy with residual worship, but he was already moving to fix his shirt with unsteady, shaking hands.
"We-we should go," he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and cracked. He wouldn't meet your eyes, but the way his Adam's apple bobbed spoke volumes about how hard he was fighting to keep his knees from buckling. "Kaiser will... he'll notice if we're late."
You stared at him for a second.
"You're seriously thinking about Kaiser right now?"
Ness blinked.
"We have rehearsal."
The threat of Kaiser's disapproval acted like a cold splash of water. You straightened your clothes, your fingers cool and steady compared to his. After that, you grabbed your things and walked past him.
"Come on. Before your precious Kaiser has another meltdown."
Ness grabbed the remaining supplies, his knuckles white around the plastic handles. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched as he led the way toward the door.
Neither of you brought it up again. The Rehearsal continued and before either of you could make sense of it, Sports Week was already drawing to its finale.
By the time Team Gold was called to the stage, it was almost hard to believe they had made it this far.
A week ago, Ness had been running through crowded hallways with a coffee stained hoodie, desperately searching for a vocalist. Now, he was walking onto a stage with you beside him. Somehow, the group that had spent most of their rehearsals arguing had become a real band.
Kaiser was still Kaiser, finding something to complain about even moments before going on stage. Hiori was still the only thing keeping the entire band from falling apart. Isagi was still playing referee. Yukimiya had mastered the art of pretending he wasn't involved. Kurona was still… Kurona.
And Ness was still the same annoying drummer who somehow ended up in your life.
Still too polite and still too eager to help. Still looking way too pleased whenever you gave him even the slightest bit of attention. You called him pathetic for it. He still acted like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.
Then the announcement echoed across the field.
"Representing Team Gold..."
The crowd erupted as the four of you stepped onto the stage.
Ness settled behind the drums, spinning his sticks once before looking up. For a moment, his eyes met yours.
Then the music started.
[Team Gold performs "Black Sheep" by Metric.]
The first guitar strum cut through the field, drawing the crowd's attention.
Then your voice entered, carrying the opening before the bass joined in and the rest of the band followed. The stage slowly built around the song.
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Black sheep, come home
Ness waited behind the drums, letting the rhythm settle before joining in. When he did, every hit landed perfectly with the beat, driving the performance forward.
Send you my love on a wire
Lift you up, every time
Everyone, ooh-ooh
Pulls away, ooh-ooh
The guitar, bass, drums, and vocals blended together effortlessly, filling the field with the kind of energy nobody expected from a band that had spent the past week fighting over every detail.
It's a mechanical bull, the number one
You'll take a ride from anyone
Everyone wants a ride
Pulls away, ooh-ooh
From you, ooh
The crowd grew louder with every section of the song. Under the stage lights, everything finally came together.
The music, the timing, the four of you—it all came together. When the final note rang out and the field erupted into cheers, you realized Team Gold had actually done it.
And somehow, you caught yourself smiling.
Unfortunately, Ness noticed.
Of course he did.
As the four of you stepped off the stage, the adrenaline slowly began to fade. The crowd was still loud behind you, but the performance was over.
"Well," Kaiser said, looking far too pleased with himself. "At least none of you ruined my reputation."
"Your reputation survived a school band performance?" you asked. "Congratulations. Should we throw a parade?"
Kaiser scoffed, but before he could respond, the group started splitting up to join their respective teams.
Hiori grabbed the equipment list. Kurona disappeared with the instruments. Kaiser was already busy talking about the judges' reactions.
And then it was just you and Ness for a moment.
"So..." Ness started, awkwardly adjusting the drumsticks in his hand. "I guess that's it."
You looked at him. "Don't sound so dramatic. It's not like we're never seeing each other again."
"Right." He smiled. "Of course."
You paused before walking away.
"You weren't completely terrible, by the way."
Ness blinked.
"Was that a compliment?"
"Don't ruin it."
His smile only grew. "Wouldn't dream of it."
As you turned to walk away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back that same intense, unwavering stare that had followed you through every rehearsal and every stolen moment. You didn't get five steps before you heard the quick scuff of his sneakers against the linoleum.
"Wait-"
You stopped and turned, half expecting another stammered apology. Instead, Ness was standing there, breathing shallowly, his knuckles white around the drumsticks. The performative persona he wore for the others had completely stripped away, leaving behind something far more unguarded.
He didn't ask for permission. Driven by something you couldn't quite name, he stepped forward and closed the distance between you.
Before you could speak, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was desperate and achingly sweet. The kiss felt full of gratitude and hunger, a messy, breathless collision that made the fading noise of the background vanish entirely. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the heat of his mouth against yours and the way his free hand trembled as it hovered near your waist, uncertain but unwilling to let go.
When he finally pulled away, he didn't retreat. He lingered there, forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged as he tried to find his footing again.
"See you around at school," you murmured, your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest. "And don't get used to this, you’re still annoying."
Ness let out a shaky breath, a dazed, beautiful smile spreading across his flushed face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there."
You shook your head at how easily pleased he was and turned away. But this time, you didn't mind him following a few steps behind.
the funniest part is big shitty corporations will remove the thing you paid for, raise the subscription price, add ads to the premium plan, and then publish a heartfelt post about how piracy is hurting them.
જ⁀➴ In raising his sons, Rin Itoshi quietly heals the wounds the past left behind ♡
˚₊‧꒰ა RIN ITOSHI looked up just as two little boys came barreling across the grass. One sprinted after the football rolling ahead of them while the other chased after his brother instead, determined to prove a point.
They skidded to a stop in front of him, both breathing hard.
"Papa, look!"
"I score'd!"
"No, I did!" his twin protested immediately, pointing an accusing finger at the ball. "You kick after."
"I did not!"
"You did too!"
Rin glanced from one indignant face to the other before looking at the ball lying a few feet away. Neither of them looked remotely interested in admitting defeat.
"...Again," he said simply.
That was enough.
The boys immediately forgot what they had been arguing about, scrambling after the ball with bright laughter trailing behind them. Their game had very little to do with football anymore. One would dribble for two seconds before forgetting where the goal was, the other would run after him instead of the ball. Eventually, one stumbled over his own feet and landed on the grass with a soft oof.
Before Rin could even stand, his brother was already crouching beside him.
"You okay?"
"...M'kay."
"You sure?"
A little nod.
"Good." He reached out and brushed the grass off his brother's shirt with surprising care. "Now we play."
As though nothing had happened, the twins were already chasing after the ball again, laughing as they bumped shoulders and nearly tripped over one another. Rin watched them in silence, his gaze lingering on their backs. They had always been like this. Whenever one stumbled, the other reached first. Whenever one slowed down, the other waited without being asked. It was so effortless that neither of them seemed to notice they were doing it.
For a moment, the sight tugged at something buried deep inside him.
Suddenly, he wasn't looking at his sons anymore.
He was looking at two brothers beneath the warm summer sun, a worn football rolling across the neighborhood pitch as they chased after it until the sky turned orange.
"Again, Rin."
He remembered how effortless it had all been back then. Sae would knock the ball toward him, correcting his footing with the patience only Rin had ever seen from him.
"Don't watch me. Watch the ball."
"Like this?"
"Closer."
Rin would nod seriously, trying again until Sae finally gave one small, satisfied nod.
"That's better."
Back then, there hadn't been any pressure. No impossible expectations, no dreams heavy enough to carry. There had only been football. Rin never questioned why he chased after the ball every day...only that Sae was always there waiting for him. They won, they laughed, and somewhere along the way they made a promise to become the two best strikers in the world. To them, it hadn't felt like a dream at all. It had simply felt like the future.
"...Papa?"
The memory slipped away as one of the twins tugged gently on his sleeve.
"I'm thirsty..."
Rin glanced toward the cooler he'd brought and walked over, lifting the lid. He reached inside and pulled out three popsicles, one blue, one red, and one grape. The twins reached for the blue and red without a second thought, leaving the grape in Rin's hand.
"I want blue!"
"I want red!"
"...Here."
They sat together beneath the shade of a tree, little legs swinging as they happily unwrapped their treats. Within seconds, sticky juice had already found its way onto their hands.
"My hand's all sticky..."
"Mine too."
The first twin held out his popsicle.
"Wanna bite?"
His brother took one small bite before handing it right back.
"Thank you."
"'Kay."
They didn't think twice about it. They never kept score or wondered who had gotten the bigger bite. Watching them share so naturally stirred something deep inside Rin.
It reminded him of another summer.
Another blue popsicle.
He and Sae had always picked the same flavor. After football, they'd walk home with blue stained tongues and sticky fingers, and before long, Sae would inevitably steal a bite from Rin's because he'd already finished his own. Rin had grumbled every single time.
Looking back now, he couldn't remember why he'd ever minded.
"Hey."
"One bite."
"You already ate yours."
"I know."
Rin had sighed dramatically before holding it out anyway.
"You're buying me one tomorrow."
Back then, he'd thought those afternoons would last forever.
He had never imagined there would come a day when the person waiting for him on the other side of the pitch no longer would be. After Sae left, football stayed the same, but everything around it changed. The promise they had made together became something Rin carried alone, and with every match, the distance between them only seemed to grow.
Now, watching his sons race after the ball with nothing but laughter between them, he was reminded of what those afternoons had felt like before everything fell apart. Before football became something to chase by himself. Before every step forward meant leaving another piece of the past behind.
Once, football had simply been the place where he could be with the person who mattered most. Somehow, without him realizing it, it had slowly become that again.
"Papa?"
Rin looked down.
One of the twins was holding up the last bite of his blue popsicle.
"Do you want?"
"...For me?"
The little boy nodded.
"You always share with us."
His brother smiled too.
"So we share with Papa."
Rin's gaze lingered on the half melted popsicle in his son's hand. After a brief pause, he leaned down and took the smallest bite.
"...Thanks."
Rin reached over and gave each of them a light flick on the forehead.
"Hey!"
"Papaaa..."
Neither of them sounded upset. If anything, they laughed harder as they stumbled back toward the football, still rubbing the spot dramatically.
"...Brats," Rin muttered, though there wasn't an ounce of annoyance in his voice.
Later on, they were already running again before he could say anything else, abandoning the last bites of their popsicles as the football rolled ahead of them. Their laughter echoed across the park as they chased after it, arguing over whose turn it was to kick the ball while neither of them seemed particularly interested in keeping score.
Rin watched them from afar.
It wasn't until now, watching his sons bicker over a football before breaking into laughter a second later, that Rin realized he'd never truly imagined a life beyond his goal. For years, he'd lived as though everything ended at the finish line.
Beat Sae. Become the best. There had been nothing after that.
As a child, he'd believed the greatest ending imaginable was defeating someone stronger than himself and dying with nothing left to chase. Even as he grew older, that way of thinking had never really left him. He had simply given it a different shape.
Yet somehow, life had continued beyond the future he'd pictured for himself.
Without him ever noticing, it had become afternoons at the park, grass stained knees, forgotten popsicles melting beneath the shade of a tree, and two little boys who reached for his hand as naturally as they reached for each other's.
Football had once been the place where he and Sae spent countless summers together. Later, it became inseparable from the promise that had fallen apart. Yet somehow, through the twins, it had quietly become something simpler again. A reason to spend another afternoon together. A reason to come home with dirt on their shoes and smiles they couldn't quite wipe away.
"Papa!"
Rin's lips curved into the faintest smile.
"...I'm coming."
As he crossed the field toward them, he realized that, for the first time in a long while, he wasn't chasing the future anymore.
SHUT. UP. I FUCKING LOVE UR PROFBTHEME SO MUCH IM GINNA COMEBOSH
HSHSHSHSH THANK YOUU lmao this took me like atleast 2 weeks to reconstruct but im never gonna bother reediting the theme on the old fics T-T SO NICE TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAINN x
i made my 3 year old sibling draw kaiser and this is what turned out..i was about to make her draw isagi yoichi but she thinks he's boring and hard to draw щ(゜▽゜щ)
is it just me or there has been a recession of blue lock angst fics lately? i've only came back for almost just a month but ive been observing the recession of these sort of fics
okay, hello, hi, i rlly rlly love ur work. idk if your taking requests (so sorry abt this if you're not), but i thought it'd be funny to see how the bllk guys react to their gf pranking them after watching obsession. like that tiktok trend going around? it can be whichever characters you want, but i'd love to see kaiser, rin, sae, and hugo thank uuuu
WHAT THE HECK THIS LOOKS FUN?? SURE!! tbh ive been wanting to do something obsession related, hehe ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧
જ⁀➴ Before tomorrow's biggest match, Bunny Iglesias turns to you for a much needed 'good luck'. discretion adviced ♡
˚₊‧꒰ა The night before the match against Argentina, BUNNY IGLESIAS'S apartment felt unusually quiet.
The weight of tomorrow’s game hung over the room, and for once, even Bunny couldn’t hide the tension building beneath his usual calm demeanor. He then paced back and forth, lost in his thoughts, his lavender hair falling messily as his focus remained fixed on the match ahead.
Eventually, he sank onto the couch beside you, his red eyes carrying an intensity that immediately caught your attention.
You had seen Bunny confident and composed, but tonight there was something different about him.
"…I can't sleep," he said under his breath, frustration slipping into his voice. When you reached out to comfort him, he suddenly pulled you into his lap, his large, calloused hands immediately finding purchase on your waist.
His touch was possessive, fingers digging slightly into your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"You know I'm not usually like this, mi amor," he admitted quietly, his voice cracking with vulnerability.
"But let me feel you tonight…I need a moment where I don't have to think about anything except you, or I'm going to lose my mind before tomorrow comes."
You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing over those familiar scars. “Look at me,” you whispered. “Forget everything else for a little while.” you whispered against his lips, your voice steady despite the way your own pulse was racing. "Just focus on me."
The moment the words left your mouth, the last thread of his restraint snapped. His hands wandered with increasing boldness, tracing the sensitive curve of your spine before sliding down to grip your hips with bruising certainty.
You leaned into his embrace without hesitation, letting yourself be drawn into his warmth, but even as you tried to match his intensity, you quickly realized the futility of it. You weren't built for this level of raw physicality; Bunny was operating on a different plane entirely. His body was a finely tuned engine of muscle and relentless stamina, and tonight, that engine was running hot with a hunger that felt almost dangerous.
He felt needier than you had ever encountered with his every touch urgent, every kiss a demand for reassurance that you were real, that you were his.
As he pulled you flush against his toned chest, you could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against your own. His hands were everywhere at all at once. Until his grip lingered for a moment before slowly relaxing, the tension that had kept him awake finally beginning to fade.
With a sigh, he placed his head heavy against your shoulder, the exhaustion that had been weighing on him all evening finally caught up to him, and before long, his breathing evened out as he drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, completely still for the first time that night.
The morning came sooner than either of you would have liked. Because soon enough, the quiet of the apartment was replaced by the deafening roar of a packed stadium.
Ninety minutes of relentless football came down to one final whistle.
Spain had done it!
The whistle had blown, the victory was secured, and Bunny was the hero of the hour. Through the cluttered confetti and screaming fans, you watched him from the sidelines, your heart still racing from the adrenaline of the win. He looked exhilarated, sweat slicked and triumphant, the gold medal already draped around his neck.
As he spotted you near the tunnel, he broke away from his teammates, jogging toward you with that rare, genuine smile breaking across his face.
"We did it," he panted, reaching you and pulling you into a crushing hug. The adrenaline was clearly still coursing through him, making him reckless. "I told you I needed that luck."
In a burst of pure, uncontained triumph, Bunny grabbed the hem of his sweat soaked jersey. “Dios mío... it's too hot in here,” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt.
Before you could warn him about the cameras, he yanked the fabric upward, pulling the jersey over his head to cool down.
The breath died in your throat. As he tugged his jersey over his head, your eyes landed on a few unmistakable red marks scattered across his back.
Your face immediately went up in flames.
You whipped your head toward the nearest camera, silently praying every broadcast operator in the stadium had suddenly developed terrible timing.
"...No. No, no, no."
Bunny followed your frantic gaze before glancing over his shoulder. The second he realized what had sent you spiraling, a slow, infuriating smirk spread across his face.
"Cariño," he said, completely unbothered, "you're the only one making this look suspicious."
You shot him a mortified glare, already hiding your face behind your hands. "I'm never standing next to you after a match again."
I've been wanting to host a special event for this blog for a while now, and I figured there's no better time than now. So... welcome to our very first Blue Lock Game Night!
➜ Saturday, July 25
➜ 10:00 PM SST
We'll be playing:
Blue Lock Kahoot (Consists of Blue Lock Trivia - created and hosted by me)
Skribbl.io (Featuring custom Blue Lock words, from characters and weapons to iconic moments)
🏆 The winner earns one thing and one thing only: bragging rights.
If you'd like to go, join my Discord server! That's where I'll be hosting the event, sharing the game links, and posting all the information you'll need before we start.
I've been wanting to host a special event for this blog for a while now, and I figured there's no better time than now. So... welcome to our very first Blue Lock Game Night!
➜ Saturday, July 25
➜ 10:00 PM SST
We'll be playing:
Blue Lock Kahoot (Consists of Blue Lock Trivia - created and hosted by me)
Skribbl.io (Featuring custom Blue Lock words, from characters and weapons to iconic moments)
🏆 The winner earns one thing and one thing only: bragging rights.
If you'd like to go, join my Discord server! That's where I'll be hosting the event, sharing the game links, and posting all the information you'll need before we start.
