໒꒱ ₊˚ thinking about … alien!hiori, demon!charles, alien!niko, demon!bachira ,, seeing humans the way we see animals.
ALIEN ! hiori yo — was someone you had seen as a stray from the very beginning. he had abandoned his mission from his home planet to stay on earth (and, more importantly, away from his family), so it was you he relied on to survive. there was no reason you shouldn’t have seen him as a stray animal; after all, you were the one who had taken him in. you were the one who taught him how to blend in. you were the one who gave him a roof over his head. and yet, somehow, he saw you as the stray.
if you couldn’t sleep, you’d always sneak into his little guest room, curling up in his bed while he played video games through the night. if he went outside, you followed him. if he stepped into the kitchen, you hovered around until he made you something to eat.
in all honesty, he hated the attention you gave him. but, for some odd reason, he kept letting you orbit your entire world around him. besides, you had your uses. he’d even taught you a neat little trick: fetch. if he asked for something, you’d run off to get it. if he were lucky and you were out all day, you might even earn yourself a reward in the form of a lazy head pat.
but whenever you brought him that new game he’d been rambling about, that’s when he really “rewarded” you, scratching behind your ears or at your sides until you couldn’t stop laughing, gasping for breath between giggles. laughing is a sign of enjoyment for humans, so why did you always yell at him to stop?
there was one thing he truly disliked about your species: how short-lived you were. you aged so rapidly. it was terrifying. he’d even contemplated bringing you back to his planet, where people lived more than twenty times longer than humans. and lately, he’d been growing homesick, longing to see his friends again. perhaps he could refuel his spaceship…
DEMON ! charles chevalier — was the type to use baby talk when speaking to you, which was rather ironic given the human vessel he inhabited. if you hadn’t given him enough attention that day, he’d pull your hair to drag you closer, fake-crying into your stomach while whining that you didn’t love him. it was strange, sure, but far from painful. maybe a little annoying, but… somehow endearing.
if you ever managed to get a moment to yourself and lie down, you’d likely be tackled into a cuddle attack by the demon. nine out of ten times, your head would be pressed to his chest, forced to hear the unsettling sound of six hearts beating out of rhythm. it might have been somewhat comforting, if not for the fact that he constantly interlocked his toes with yours or stroked your eyebrows, forcing them into random expressions.
somehow, it always got worse. he’d manage to get you dirty, gasping in mock surprise as he announced you needed a bath. if you were outside after a rainstorm, he’d “accidentally” shove you into that very obvious patch of mud. you always smelled so nice after a shower; he just wanted to bury his nose into your skin and sniffff.
when you had to use the bathroom, he followed you as though he would be the one to clean up after you, not the toilet. but the second you stepped too close to the bowl-shaped contraption, he knew to run before you’d kick him out. it always ended the same: him sitting outside the door, waiting for you to come out.
he did try to make it up to you, gifting you clothes from his home beneath the earth’s crust. but since you didn’t have demon wings, horns, or tough enough skin to wear the uncomfortable garments, you’d huff and throw them off. not that it mattered to him. everything you wore was just too “cwute,” and the next time he visited his friends and family, he’d be sure to bring you back more attire.
but when he learned about something called a calendar—a thing that celebrated seasons his home didn’t have—and postcards—an ancient form of texting with a photo on the back—that’s when you began to realize he saw you as nothing more than a pet.
he printed those ridiculous photos of you in his ugly, tacky, gaudy clothes and put them on postcards to send to his family and every demon friend he had, even though he normally just texted them. and the calendar? a new photo of you for every month, which he kept sneaking back into your room, no matter how many times you threw it in the trash.
ALIEN ! ikki niko — always kept his eyes covered and maintained his distance from you. it had been that way from the start, even when you first discovered his crash-landed ship and alien form. in fact, he passed out within seconds of meeting you, overwhelmed by exhaustion, stress, and the sheer terror of seeing a human for the first time.
when he finally became somewhat adjusted to living with you until he could repair his ship and return home, he explained that his “spatial awareness” around you was simply because it took time to get used to looking at strange, foreign creatures.
heck, he still startles himself when looking at his own human disguise in the mirror, so you had no choice but to believe him. and that you did with a grain of salt. you figured he saw you as some horrifying, him-sized bug. whenever you move a little too fast towards him his skin just jumps! it literally jumps!
if he had food and you asked for a piece, he’d toss it onto your plate instead of handing it to you. if you wanted a sip of his drink, he’d waterfall it into your mouth with shaky hands before spilling half of it all over you.
to his credit, he’d fetch a towel and dry you off, but his stiff, outstretched arms and tippy-toed stance to keep as much distance as possible told you all you needed to know.
even though your friendship with niko wasn’t the most stable, curiosity got the better of you one night. you decided to pull up his bangs while he was sleeping to see what exactly he was hiding.
he didn’t have spider eyes all over his head. nor did he have tiny, beady gerbil ones. his forehead wasn’t littered with angry red pimples waiting to pop. if anything, he had a few small bumps and acne scars. his face was surprisingly… normal.
or at least, that’s what you thought until he woke up, giving you only a millisecond to admire the actual galaxies swirling in his eyes. his irises held a thousand stars, a tiny universe reminiscent of the milky way. but you didn’t get to admire them for long, because he immediately started smacking you with a pillow as if you were a cockroach.
when he realized it was you, he cried out an apology. but it didn’t feel all that sincere, especially since he had to wrap his hand in a blanket before placing it on your arm reassuringly, too terrified to risk actual skin-to-skin contact.
DEMON ! meguru bachira — always loved to play with you. his fascination first sparked the day he watched you flick a hair tie out of your way, only to mutter curses as you reached under some impossible-to-reach spot to grab it. that’s when he decided to run a little experiment, starting with a piece of string.
he dangled it in front of your face, grinning wide and gummy, only to get his hand smacked as you told him to knock it off.
when the two of you went out on walks, he’d wave a stick in front of you, then toss it, staring at you with a look so expectant you’d think you held the world. that expression quickly soured when you just stood there, staring back at him like he’d sprouted two heads (he could, but you’d really rather not see that).
he’d pout, point at the discarded stick, and give you a shove, insisting you needed your “daily exercise.” eventually, you’d get annoyed enough to appease him, trudging over to grab the stick and bring it back, only to be ambushed. his hands would squish your cheeks together before pinching them, his lips peppering your hairline and ears with kisses. you weren’t sure what was worse: the embarrassment of being treated like this or the disgusted looks strangers shot your way.
he was always talking to you, too, never letting the house stay quiet for more than a minute. his hands were constantly busy, rubbing your back, running through your hair, or giving your nose a sudden boop! just to make sure you were paying attention.
he’d tell you about his day, his voice bubbling with excitement, that only you knew the truth that he wasn’t human. that his joy came from being treated like one. that he was trusted enough in the community to work part-time at a preschool. that one of his students had eyes like yours, though yours were cuter. that one of the moms who always chatted with him had a voice like yours, though yours was far more adorable.
and then, mid-sentence, his words would trail off. he’d stare at you and say, “who's the cutest human in the world, looking at me like that…”
characters - yukimiya , otoya , oliver , barou , karasu , chigiri. ( incubus bllk boys x female reader ) | pt I here! | pt III here!
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * KENYU YUKIMIYA
yukimiya fucks like he’s painting a masterpiece.
every breathless cry you make is a brushstroke, every moan is music to his perfect little world.
he cups your jaw gently, praise falling from his lips like scripture.
“ look at you… do you know how good you look like this?”
but behind that pretty voice and soft hands, there’s obsession.
his control is clinical. elegant. terrifying.
he doesn’t let you cum until you prove yourself.
until you cry his name, arch for him, cling to him like your life depends on it.
and when he finally fills you?
it’s possessive is intentional.
his glowing cum leaks down your thighs, and he spreads it with his fingers.
“ you’ll never belong to anyone else. not when i’ve made you this beautiful.”
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * OTOYA EITA
otoya is trouble in leather and teeth.
he’s a menace in bed, rough, chaotic, laughing through your cries while he has you bent over some random surface.
“ fuck, you’re loud,” he grins, spanking your ass as you moan. “ don’t stop. i like it.”
his horns are short and sharp, his tongue split just slightly.
he eats you out like he’s on a sugar high, head between your thighs for hours, not stopping until you’re crying from overstimulation.
and then he fucks you.
quick. deep. filthy.
he grabs your hair. says filthy things in your ear.
“ you were made for this. for me. you know that, right?”
you nod, fucked too dumb to speak, and that makes him worse.
he cums inside with a low groan, smirking down at you.
“ already full, huh? damn. i’m good.”
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * OLIVER AIKU
oliver doesn’t rush.
he watches. waits. stalks you through your dreams like a panther, tail coiled, voice low and honey-drenched.
“ relax, baby. i’ll take care of everything.”
he stretches you open slow, his cock too big, his hands too steady. he makes you look in the mirror while he fucks you from behind, hand firm around your throat.
his voice doesn’t change, low and calm, even as he fucks you stupid.
“ yeah… that’s it. good girl. just like that.”
oliver praises you like you’re his favorite thing to break.
he calls you sweetheart while splitting you in half.
he doesn’t stop until you can’t think.
he likes you a little ruined.
and when he cums deep inside, he kisses your forehead.
“ don’t worry,” he says. “ i’ll be back for seconds.”
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * BAROU SHOEI
barou doesn’t mean to be this wild.
but when he smells you, when he sees you trembling, when he hears the way you gasp when he touches you.
he loses it.
“ don’t move.”
he throws you on your back like you weigh nothing. pulls your legs up. drives his cock into you like it’s instinct.
“ you like that, huh? of course you fuckin’ do.”
his thrusts are punishing. greedy.
he fucks like he’s claiming territory, grabbing your hips hard, panting like a beast. his tail lashes behind him. his claws leave red streaks on your thighs.
and you love it.
you cum again and again, helpless and shaking, and it only makes him rougher.
he cums inside with a loud, primal groan, then fucks it deeper.
doesn’t let you go.
doesn’t say much.
but when he stays curled around you, tail tight to your leg, breath hot on your neck.
but you know he’s not done.
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * TABITO KARASU
karasu doesn’t fuck you because he needs to.
he fucks you because it’s fun watching you fall apart.
“ mmh… already wet?” he teases, sliding a clawed finger up your slit. “ knew you’d be easy.”
he’s a menace, sarcastic, calm, cocky. but the moment he slides into you? he shuts up.
his eyes roll back a little. his fingers grip your waist. he moans, low and rough in your ear.
“ fuck— this pussy…”
he pins you down with his wings. fucks you slow at first, just to watch you beg.
then he picks up the pace, smirking as you sob under him.
“ yeah? that’s it. cry for me.”
he loves when you fight back.
but he wins every time.
karasu cums inside with a shaky breath and a smug laugh.
“ you gonna dream of me again tonight?”
you will.
———————————————————————
⋆·˚ ༘ * CHIGIRI HYOMA
chigiri looks like a dream long pink hair, delicate face, glowing skin.
but he fucks like a demon who enjoys watching you fall apart.
“ what’s wrong?” he whispers, cock deep inside you. “ you wanted this.”
his pace is slow and precise, perfect.
he hits the spot with every thrust. fingers stroke your clit until you’re clenching around him and choking on his name.
but he doesn’t give you mercy.
you cum once? he keeps going.
twice? his smirk only grows.
by the third, you’re sobbing, thighs shaking, and he’s still hard.
“ you’ll take it,” he says sweetly. “ because you need it.”
he calls you good girl while he breaks you.
he braids your hair before he ruins you.
and when he finally cums deep inside?
he pulls out just enough to watch it drip.
and kisses your trembling mouth like it’s a reward.
fucking your partner with a clear fleshlight and forcing them watch as you milk their cock <3 their cum collects in the small pocket pussy, bring pushed out from just how tight it is and frothing up from your strokes.
they let out a cry, hands tied behind their back and legs spread as they surrender themselves to you. they've been so obedient, letting you milk them over and over again and putting up with all the torturous overstimulation just for your entertainment.
you almost feel bad for being so cruel. your pity drives you to give them a break, your hands pulling the toy off of their cock with a wet 'pop'.
they thank you before you can reconsider, your name and title falling from their lips like a praying — like you are their god and you are their savior.
it's adorable, and their worship is deserving of a reward, isn't it? you bring the fleshlight to your lips, wanting to taste the fruits of your labor.
their cum is sweet against your tongue, only sweetened by their whines of 'n-no th-at's dirty!' and their high-pitched whimpers.
all of the cum you've collected is gone, now warm in your stomach and coating your mouth. you aren't disappointed though — because you know this only means you get to milk them again and again until you've had your fill.
Forsaken : Elliot, Chance, Noob, Two Time, 007n7
Genshin : Chongyun, Gorou, Thoma, Mika, Kazuha
Blue Lock : Ness, Bachira, Nagi, Isagi, Kurona, + Your Faves!
⋆˚₊‧ — INCIDENT LOG : fist bump? ‧₊˚⋆
⤷ ゛isagi experiences brain malfunction (caused by stranger). it's bachira's fault. ˎˊ˗
ᝰ.ᐟ 2.3k. gn!reader · fluff · romance · canon univ · 2nd-hand embarrassment srry · bakery meet-cute · listened 2 something super sweet by rory webley while editing
› a/n: probably one of my favorite drabbles from likeeeee 3 yrs ago . heavily edited tho lowk i have grown as a person tyvm, bllk fandom did u miss me
yoichi isagi, contrary to popular belief, is not as socially adept as he looks.
it’s lucky he’s got the manners and charmingly boyish smile to cover it all up. he’s lucky fans and friends alike see his attitude as something to praise, that they fawn and squeal over how well he takes the shit he’s put through—ignoring how he gets on the field sometimes—and get little to no opportunity to see anything more. it might crush his career. there are very few that’ve seen what he’s like when there’s not a camera to smile at or a game to play, or god knows what else.
he’s lucky most of those people are those who’ve sparingly seen him anywhere else—who he’s met on the field. first impressions are always the last, and all that. not that he wouldn’t have gone to the potluck bachira’s hosting right now if it weren’t just the guys from blue lock, but ah. it’s reassuring to know it’s just them. yoichi figured he’d be okay just being himself. as it stands, no one really seems to mind, anyway—they’re all too busy catching up with each other, because damn, everyone is here. he hadn’t, for some reason, expected bachira to invite so many people, let alone that so many of them would show up—isagi’s sure this group would look a little out of place, made up of athletes from across the fucking nation, the world.
“isagi!” calls the aforementioned host, unsurprisingly giggly and practically tipsy already given the early hour. he nearly tips yoichi over in his rush to touch—his best friend has always been a clinger, and it’s rather sweet—but catches himself with an arm looped loosely around his neck, letting yoichi bear all his weight as he leans in to pointlessly whisper in his ear at top volume.
“kunigami ‘n chigiri are gonna go grab more beer, and uhh, i think nagi’s letting reo take him with them? ’m thinkin’ we go ahead ‘nd grab some food, i know you don’ wanna be left alone but everyone’s kinda gone off already and—”, he starts whipping his head around, hair smacking yoichi in the eye as he makes for a headcount, which could take forever.
isagi cuts him off before he goes on that tangent—he’ll probably try for a guessing game to see where everyone else went, which could last far longer than whatever free time they have right now—with a soft “that sounds good, bachira.” this earns him a hearty grin, and before he knows it, they’re stepping out of his building’s elevator and hightailing it across the street. yoichi’s always been a little jealous of the neighbourhood bachira lives in—there’s a bustling little plaza a five minute walk away, the area nothing compared to the towering highrises back where he calls home now. his best friend tugs him into a bakery just off the intersection.
“mmm, smells good!”, he hears bachira say, and it’s true—it smells nutty, kinda caramel-y, perfectly paired with the faintness of something floral, likely from the various flower pots scattered throughout the shop. isagi hums in agreement and inches to the side a little bit, just short of knocking into a stool. it’s a cozy little place. the speakers are playing something r&b.
“—just give me a sec!”, he hears someone say, sees a shadow ducking out from beneath a curtain, behind which yoichi could assume hosts dry ingredients and whatever else. he hadn’t registered the ding of the bell above the door signalling their entry
“sorry, we’re near closing. what can i get you?” you ask, ripping out a couple old receipts from the machine and leaning over to toss them into what he can only, again, assume is the trash (he can’t see behind the counter), before turning and giving him and bachira—
yoichi looks around, and thinks, only a little exasperatedly, where the fuck is bachira.
—your full attention.
he offers you a small smile, which feels easier to do than expected despite the million-and-one questions running through his head right now. he doesn’t know why exactly he’s surprised, but it’s been a while since he’s had to feel like a fucking parent who just lost their kid. it’s been way too long since he last came to visit. he hadn’t even felt the guy’s weight leave his shoulders, and wonders how appropriate it would be to turn around and start calling for him like a lost cat right now ‘cause honestly, where the fuck did he go? it’s a tiny ass shop, and he’s nowhere in sight.
see, the thing is, he would, but you end up smiling back at him with something that he knows, logically, is a customer-service smile, and he’s kind of abruptly hit with the fact that he’s standing before probably one of the most attractive looking people he’s ever seen in his life—which is saying a lot, because half his time is spent around people who end up on billboards. forgive him for feeling and probably looking a little stuck between giving you his full attention and ensuring his grown ass man of a best friend is perfectly safe being left alone for all of five seconds.
he tells himself it wouldn’t be appropriate and would actually be pretty embarrassing. you’re giving him your full attention right now, so it’s only fair he returns it. bachira can fucking wait.
he glances up at the menu on the displays above your head, and just then hears someone call for you from the behind the curtain you dipped under. your name sounds like heaven to his ears, and god, he’s such a fucking sap. you sigh, letting an exasperated little chuckle slip out before shouting back a hang on, we have a customer! and looking back at him. yoichi’s tempted to test out your name on his lips, but refrains from doing so after almost actually trying it. he’s stupid.
“i’ve never been here before,” he says instead, and cringes at himself before the last word even comes out.
fortunately for him, you don’t seem to mind, glancing up at the display behind you while he opts to stare at you. who would’ve thought, yoichi isagi, world-famous football star would meet some pretty stranger in the middle of the night and act stupid because of it—whether you know who he is or not remains up for debate, actually, but the point still stands.
you hum thoughtfully, gaze locked on the weekly special on the screen furthest to the right—he has really good eyes, he’s not staring that hard, he can just tell, his peripheral vision is good, it doesn’t take a genius, okay?—before it slides back over to him and fucking rakes over his figure. he tries to pretend he doesn’t feel electricity race up his spine at the weight of your gaze.
“hmm. we’ve got an assorted box for cheap? we’ve got a bunch of random stuff left, i think, so you’d be doing me a favour. some might be a little stale, though.” you trail off, stepping to the side a bit to peek into the display, where there are a ton of things he can’t really identify, much less so while he’s busy watching you. yoichi follows you with his eyes, pulling out his wallet. if it’s for cheap, he thinks, it means he can get rid of a couple loose coins and hopefully feel that same rush up his spine at the touch of your hands. holy shit, he’s pathetic.
once again, he’s not that socially adept. sneaky is a better term.
“is that in a dozen?” he asks, and glances up at the weekly special you were looking at, which isn’t, surprisingly, what you’d offered. he pauses, “my friend also might want—”
“—a pineapple puff pastry? i can just toss that into the box, too. it actually comes in a half-dozen, but i can get you two.”
you’re tapping the screen of the register in front of you as you speak, leaving yoichi a little dumbstruck. it’s not really at the fact he’s been interrupted, but moreso.. well, you. he has to shake himself out of it the best he knows how before he gets to counting. a part of him screams you’re jealous at the thought of bachira coming in here every day, that he gets to see you often enough for you to know something as trivial as his favorite food, while the other part swoons because you’re thoughtful enough to remember it.
“that’ll be…” you trail off and glance up at him, surprised to see him sliding way too many coins across the counter and stuffing his wallet into his pocket.
it’s just then that bachira decides to reappear, almost bringing both him and his friend down as he pounces, entire body weight falling onto your customer. you can’t help but snort at the gesture of affection, so like him that you’re used to it; bachira’s come around so often he probably knows more about you than you do yourself, spending so much of his free time here even though he’s probably crazy busy just to chat with you a little in the evenings.
as you sift through the register for his change, which you’re ninety-nine percent sure isn’t even going to cover the generous ‘tip’—he’d mouthed this to you as he slid it over—you listen to the two of them bicker. it’s not hard to admit he’s caught your eye. it was his eyes first, a solid cobalt blue, then the unruly black hair, and then his smile. you’re interested, duh, and you’re far from stupid. the way he reacted to you checking him out, paired with the way he’s been looking at you since he walked in? clearly it isn’t one-sided.
you hold out a closed fist, change heavy, curled between your palm and practiced fingers, waiting for the two to notice before bachira’s friend leans a little closer to you—bachira letting go of him to wave at your coworker, who has suddenly appeared to fill the boxes and bag them up—and knocks his fist against yours in what couldn’t be interpreted as anything but a fucking fist bump?
um? the fuck? it takes you a second, but you snort before you can help it, and bachira, who also froze up, follows with a bout of laughter. before you know it, your coworker is patting your arm in consolation as she walks away, and you’re suppressing a smile. bachira’s smacking his friend’s arm and has dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, the guy looking at the two of you as if he’s just completely embarrassed himself in front of thousands of people—he looks mortified.
really you are trying your best not to laugh any more than that, but christ.
“isagi..” bachira says, clutching his friend’s arm—isagi? you think, and oh, shit, the famous football player?—as he leans in to whisper something in his ear. you really, genuinely, try your best not to stare, fist still held out between the two of you, and wait for them to finish.
once bachira’s done and leans away, this sneaky little smile on his face that should only mean trouble ever-present, he skips on away, the front door bell going off upon his exit. his friend is still standing there, the hand he’d used to do that resting loosely on the edge of the countertop. he looks like he’s at a bit of a loss, but the sigh he lets out is a quiet thing that somehow elicits that juvenile feeling of butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and man, maybe you’re the pathetic one.
you reach out and grab that hand with the hand not holding his change, carefully uncurling his fingers and dropping the coins into the palm of his hand with a cupped fist. to his chagrin—he’s not stupid, he knows he totally lost his chance with you, holy shit, this is the worst thing he’s ever done—, you don’t let go as you rip the receipt from the machine with the coin hand, holding his wrist firmly in a way his mind, traitorously, hopes leaves a bruise.
unfortunately for him, you’re holding him too gently for that, and he has to remind himself of that as you crumple up the receipt a little on top of the change, and fold his fingers back in. with both hands. he can feel how clammy his hands are, between the calloused tips of his fingers and rough edges of his palms—but all he can focus on is how the touch feels electric, something far surpassing what he’d expected from the touch he’d been seeking.
“your change,” you hum, sweet as sugar and a little mocking, taking the pastries from your coworker, who’s giving you an all-too-knowing smile and holding it out to him. you only briefly breaking eye contact to glance at the movement of his hands as he dumps all of his change into your tip jar.
“um,” his right hand, which you’d just held in both of yours, comes up to rub at the back of his neck, his left gently taking the plastic bag from you. “thanks.”
fuck it, shot in the dark, he’s fucking adorable.
“too late to ask for your number?”, you ask, and swear the pink in his cheeks increases tenfold—but he only looks bashful at the request, not uncomfortable or disgusted, which you aren’t all that surprised by. you watch as he scrambles to flatten out his receipt, then as he palms his pockets to find what you can assume is something to write with, wanting to see him fumble for only a little bit before fondness wins out and you slide a pen across the counter.
now you’re the one staring, as he scribbles the digits that make up his very, very exclusively given out number—’cause of his status and all, he’s gotta stay safe!, his mother always says—and folding it up all nicely to give it to you.
“finally,” your coworker groans from behind you, prompting a laugh from both of you.
yoichi doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone with a smile as alluring as yours.
in which your ex michael kaiser provokes your new boyfriend yoichi isagi until he finally breaks
warnings ⋆.˚ mdni, smut, world cup au, female!reader, teasing, pet names (baby, sweetheart, babe), dirty talk, yoichi punches his ass lmfao, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, they're so MEAN im creaming, they both have filthy fucking mouths, face grabbing, praise, oral (f), fingering, squirting, cum eating, dom!isagi will be the death of me, some mxm yes gawd, hair grabbing, ass slapping, pussy slapping, finger sucking, choking, backshots, unprotected sex (wrap it up), coming inside, masturbation, multiple orgasms, yoichi loves to be humiliated and kaiser be bossed around highkey
wc ⋆.˚ 5.6k
disclaimer ⋆.˚ my works are purely fiction with all events occurring between 21+ consenting adults
a/n ⋆.˚ my blue lock debut omg hope y'all like it!! def wanna write more for them in the future. a whole lot going on here and im fucking drooling all over my screen oh my god this was purely self indulgent bc i need them both at the same damn time idgaf
there’s a quiet discomfort resting in your chest leading up to saturday’s match. it’s nothing to do with your boyfriend, yoichi isagi, and if he’ll lead japan to victory in the quarter finals, but rather who they are up against.
it’s void of concerns over sports and soccer. it’s simply the reality that he will be there.
michael kaiser.
the two of you dated for three years, only for him to completely brush you aside for soccer alone. you understood, because it’s his entire life, the blood that runs through his veins from the minute he wakes up until he falls asleep. yet, there are countless other players that have no issue balancing their love lives with the demands of the sport. your break up? it tore you to pieces.
you two had met during your sports internship abroad in college, where you were assigned to help manage their team in germany during your senior year. being in close quarters to a number of beautiful and single men, well, it was only natural you’d fall for one of them. kaiser was the first to approach you, offering to treat you to a meal as a thank you for all of your help in management. a seemingly innocent gesture turned into one too many drinks and ending up in his bed. of course, in order not to mix work with play, you strictly put up boundaries after that night– but slowly, they began to crumble. in your last month of the internship, he asked you out on an official date, and the rest is history.
you had every plan to stay and work in your hometown after graduating, but with your relationship with kaiser seemingly progressing, you made the decision to move to germany. it was, perhaps, a stupid move as a twenty-one-year-old freshly out of college– you knew no one except your boyfriend and the rest of his team– yet, you loved the country as a whole and knew the language well, so you figured, why not?
things were perfect at first, as all new relationships always seem to be. but as the months passed, and one year turned into two, then three, it wasn’t hard to notice that kaiser was slipping away from you.
“i’m late for practice.”
“sorry, i won’t be back until after midnight. too much training.”
“eat dinner without me.”
the excuses were nearly if not daily, and little by little, your unbothered exterior began to crack.
kaiser was confused the night you broke. he truly didn’t recognize his own neglectful behaviour, so hearing you confront him about it was a shock, to say the least.
“you’re never here anymore!” you yell, tears flooding your eyes, “could you even still call yourself a partner?”
kaiser hisses, running his fingers through his hair. “what? of course i’m still your partner! i love you, y/n, you know that!” he’s defensive, frustration searing in his chest. “i’m doing this for us!”
the room goes quiet for a moment, and then your throat cracks. “no,” you laugh, deflated, “you’re doing this for you.”
after the break up, you got in contact with an old college acquaintance who worked at fifa and managed to snag yourself a three-month gig in japan. that’s how you ended up here, just a little over a year later, sitting in the living room of you and yoichi’s shared apartment. you were offered a full-time position with japan’s national team after your contract concluded, but decided to move into another related position away from them in order to have a healthy distance between your work and personal life since you and yoichi started dating near the end of it. make no mistake, though, the distance from the team had no effect on your loyalty, you still rarely missed a game– especially one as important as the fifa world cup quarter finals.
yoichi’s focused on reviewing the video playback of the last match, carefully taking note of what to do and what to avoid for the upcoming game. your head is resting on his shoulder, just scrolling mindlessly through your phone whilst munching on a bag of pretzels.
“i was too far to the left there,” he says aloud, pointing at the tv screen. you chuckle, finding his little instructive self-talk adorable.
“you ready to kick ass?” you ask him, tearing his attention away from his analysis just for a moment. you sit up and turn your body to face him, cupping his cheeks as his eyes meet yours.
“absolutely,” he says confidently, “i’ll send them back to germany in fucking tears.”
you laugh as you lean in and kiss him softly. he melts into your touch, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you onto his lap. you hum against his mouth as you sink into his hips. “i’d love to see that, actually,” you smirk as you back away for a moment, “especially kaiser,” yoichi flinches at the mention of your ex’s name, eyes flooding with a glint of rage and determination. he hadn’t seen him since the second phase of blue lock, and he was shocked to know you two used to be in a relationship. naturally, he hated him even more after you recounted your history to him. “if you manage to do it,” you lower your eyes enticingly, “i’ll fuck you into the next match.”
yoichi groans, and you feel his cock twitch beneath you. “fuck,” he groans, “why did you say that when i need to reserve all of my energy for tomorrow?”
you bite your lip with a faux innocence, then swipe your tongue across his mouth. he sighs, drinking you in instantly. “because,” you start, “it’ll motivate you to win. i’m giving you a little extra ego boost.”
his cock is already leaking at this point, desperate for release. you just had to go and be a tease when it was in his best interest to stay away from… strenuous activity for the day. of course you fucking did.
“you’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch. his rough fingertips are still digging at your sides. “can i at least eat you out? i can come just from that alone, you know this. give me something, pretty please?” he begs, eyes big and so goddamn needy.
you tsk, then slap his arm playfully. “patience, baby,” you tease, “if you wait, it’ll be even better than you imagined.”
your unknown foreshadowing would, in fact, bring him an unexpected– life-changing, in truth– experience.
✧･ﾟ: ✧
the bustling stadium and endless chatter infiltrates your lungs much like the overwhelming scent of hot dogs, french fries, and anxiety.
you couldn’t enjoy just being a fan at the moment, because yoichi’s got you pressed tautly against his chest as he tries to push you both through the intruding swarm of paparazzi. this was the only thing he absolutely despised about his job. he sucks in his teeth, blatantly ignoring all of the questions being thrown at him, squeezing his fists to control himself in response to the ones that were extremely inappropriate. no, he wasn’t going to tell the reporters how good you were in bed. why the fuck did they assume a question like that was okay to ask in the first place?
he lets out a dramatic exhale in relief when you two are finally inside the vip area, tilting his head downwards to make sure you’re alright whilst he releases you from his grip. “everything okay?” he asks, sending you an apologetic smile. “i know that part is always hell.”
you nod, not saying much, just allowing your body to calm itself down. you were just happy to know he hates the paparazzi just as much as you do. “i’m okay,” you promise, after regaining your composure.
he kisses the top of your head delicately before taking his leave to get ready for the match, then do a few interviews before warm-up. you’re seated in the catering area, picking at a few snacks to pass the time. soon, you find yourself in conversation with some of your former coworkers, enjoying their company and betting– without money, in this case– on moves and plays the boys will showcase during the game.
“yoichi’s volley shot was crazy in practice the other night,” angel, the current team manager, expresses in admiration. “i hope he can pull it off again today.”
“he showed me the footage bachira captured,” you add, “he’s really come such a long way, hasn’t he?”
“absolutely. in just two years, he’s already making headway towards being one of the greatest strikers the world has ever seen.”
your heart warms at the compliment. hearing others speak so highly of him, recognizing his skill and all of the hard work he has poured into his passion for soccer, makes your chest pleasantly tight.
deeply tucked away in the locker rooms, though, yoichi is receiving the opposite of praise and directly in his face.
“yoichi isagi,” kaiser patronizes him, arms crossed as he leans against the wall, “japan’s alleged top striker and, per my own personal vote, homewrecker.”
yoichi slams his locker shut with a threatening slam. “shut the fuck up, kaiser,” he hisses, nostrils flaring as he turns around to face him. he fully expected this, but the preparation didn’t cause him to feel any less irritated. “i didn’t wreck anything, you lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“lost?” he smirks, stepping closer. yoichi’s cheeks are red with anger, heart thumping wildly in his chest. the few players who remained in the locker room with them tried their best to ignore the fight. “no, you have it all wrong, my friend.” he laughs cockily. “i haven’t lost anything, because i know she’ll come back soon enough.”
“you’re delusional,” yoichi spits.
“that,” kaiser leans over, breath hot against is ear, “would be you.”
you’re probably the only one in the entire crowd that can sense the tension radiating between yoichi and kaiser throughout the game, at least, the amount itself. most people just assume its the usual sports rivalry, but you knew better; the mutual distaste ran far deeper than the two of them just being on opposing teams during an intense match. when you were dating kaiser, it was never broadcast to the public like you and yoichi, so no one in the stadium had any incentive to think their dark chemistry was anything more than standard athletic competition.
yoichi’s panting as his impressive footwork slips past the final defender, eyes aiming clearly on a superb shot to break the tie in the first half.
“even if you win this game,” kaiser’s low, arrogant voice strikes yoichi in his chest as he suddenly appears beside him, “y/n is still going to leave you.”
yoichi grits his teeth, shoving his shoulder into kaiser’s chest to push him aside and fully clear his path for the shot. kaiser's laugh is boisterous as he steals the ball, performing a diagonal switch to change its direction.
“son of a bitch,” yoichi curses, glaring at him.
kaiser just smiles, sending him a condescending wink. “better luck next time, pretty boy.”
no one dares to say a word to yoichi when they’re back in the locker room after the game has concluded. he’s enraged, digging his nails into his palms as his head ruminates over every missed calculation in his plays.
“shit!” he groans, dropping his forehead onto the shower wall in defeat from the loss, “we almost fucking had it.”
you’re waiting inside the locker room for him to finish up, the rest of the players having filed out and leaving him on his own.
that is, until kaiser swings open the door, face dripping in sweat as he chugs a water bottle. you freeze, gaze landing on him. his eyes grow wide at first, but soon fall into something dark, more predatory.
“well, look who it is,” he smirks, “my beloved y/n.”
you scoff. “‘my beloved’? are you serious?”
“aw, didn’t you miss me?” he teases.
“you wish, asshole.”
he laughs, walking past you towards his locker without another word. you stay where you are, arms crossed as you just watch him. he knows that you are, purposefully removing his soaked undershirt slowly and tossing it aside. your breath hitches in your throat as his back muscles flex, heart dropping to your stomach.
you couldn’t look away.
“i’ve been meaning to ask you,” kaiser says suddenly, turning around to face you. he steps forward until only a few inches remain between you. “does yoichi know?”
“know what exactly?”
“that you like to be fucked raw and mean?”
your eyes shoot wide, lips parting from his audacity. “what the hell?” you seethe. “that’s none of your business.”
“so, no.”
you’re gritting your teeth now, finger shoved threateningly into his chest. “i advise you to shut up right now before i slap you.”
kaiser’s lids lower and he grabs your wrist to pry you off of him. your thighs clench, and fuck, it isn’t subtle at all. your cheeks turn red with embarrassment. “baby, i think you want me to slap you.”
“what the fuck is going on?”
yoichi’s question cuts through you like a knife as your eyes quickly move from kaiser to where he’s standing, glistening, clean body dripping water droplets onto the floor as his towel sits low on his hips.
“there he is,” kaiser chuckles. “japan’s little firecracker.”
“why are your hands still on my girl?” he spits, ignoring his insult and shuffling over to your side, ripping you out of his hold.
kaiser licks his teeth. “careful, yoichi,” he hums, “you’re gonna make her pretty cunt drip all over the floor if you grab her like that.”
yoichi’s fist is already meeting kaiser’s face before you have a chance to speak, hand flying over your mouth in shock. kaiser snickers, throwing his forearm up to stop yoichi from being able to reach him a second time.
“stop fighting!” you yell.
yoichi always immediately turns soft when it comes to you. he lowers his fist seconds later, slowly lifting himself from the floor. he doesn’t help kaiser back up to his feet, though. he didn’t deserve that.
kaiser wipes the blood from his cheek as he stumbles to stand back up. “feisty, aren’t you?” he hisses in pain from the bruise that’s already forming.
“damn right, i am,” yoichi sneers, “especially when it comes to y/n.”
“yeah, well i don’t think you’re feisty enough for her filthy tastes.” your stomach twists with something you’re scared to admit right then and your eyes dart towards the floor. “go on, sweetheart, why don’t you tell him?” he taunts. “why don’t you tell him exactly what you need right now? you know i can sense it, right?” his face is smug, evil, "i could never forget how your pretty body reacts to my words.”
yoichi’s eyebrows furrow as he looks between him and you. “what’s he talking about, babe?” he asks calmly.
your palms rub up and down your arms as you clench around nothing. you loved yoichi and he was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. but, you couldn’t deny how badly your body still craved for kaiser’s touch even till this day. yoichi gave you everything, and it never went without your appreciation and satisfaction. yet, still, a tiny piece of you remained unfulfilled.
“babe?” he repeats, face morphing into concern.
“let me spell it out for you,” kaiser steps in, his body now essentially caging both you and yoichi against the wall. “she wants me to bully her with my cock, because you don’t do it for her.”
a small gasp leaves yoichi’s throat, his eyes still resting on you. with your body language, he can easily tell that kaiser’s words are right. he’s still for a moment, like he’s thinking, calculating his next move.
then, something snaps in him, and he’s gripping your chin to force you to look back up at him. “look at me,” his voice is strained, cold, eyes devoid of colour in a way you’ve never seen before. you inhale sharply as your glassy irises finally meet his. you’re shaking, heart thumping wildly against your chest. yoichi laughs in that moment, one mixed with amusement and jealousy. “wow,” he whistles, “so, he’s right?”
“yoichi–”
“no, no,” he holds his hand up to silence you, “i get it.” he walks over towards the locker room door and clicks the lock. you look at him in both confusion and anticipation. “i wanna see exactly what he’s talking about.” he sits down on the edge of one of the benches a few feet away as his gaze burns holes into you. “i wanna see how he ruins you, since he’s so confident i don’t know how to fuck my girlfriend properly.”
you open your mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. yoichi chuckles, rage boiling inside of him and it makes his cock throb more than it probably should. he looks at kaiser, then nods, giving him his blessing to have his way with you. “go ahead,” he coos, “make her come like the nasty fucking girl she is all over this damn locker room floor.”
kaiser’s smile is sinful as he traps you between his arms, but he doesn’t touch you yet. he just watches how you react, how your face twitches from his breath ghosting over your face, how your legs tremble beneath you.
“what do you want me to do first, hm?” he asks you, one hand moving to cup your jaw. your eyes flutter shut before you can even decide how to respond. he licks his lips as his thumb comes to rest against yours. “want my fingers in your mouth? or maybe you want my tongue on your pussy?”
“please,” you choke out involuntarily, eyes flickering immediately past kaiser’s shoulder to yoichi. he hasn’t moved his eyes off of you, still leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees in focus. he sends you one of the most heinous smiles you’ve ever seen originate from him and you lose it. “god, please, i need your mouth on my fucking cunt,” you beg kaiser, but you’re staring at your boyfriend.
yoichi smirks, mouthing ‘good girl’ to you as kaiser drops to his knees.
kaiser’s tongue is unforgiving as it slides across your folds, calloused fingers digging deep into your thighs to keep you upright. you’re steadying your eyes on yoichi as your lids lower and lips quiver in ecstasy. kaiser moans loudly into your cunt, shaking his head left and right to coat his entire face with your sweet slick.
“f–fuck,” you exhale, hands lifting to grip his strands. you can’t help yourself as you grind hard against his mouth, desperate panting breaths dripping from your tongue. “y–yoichi,” you moan your boyfriend's name, fucked-out, glossy eyes dialating exponentially with each flick of kaiser’s tongue on your puffy clit.
yoichi leans back against the wall, lips smug as he watches you fall apart on your ex boyfriend for him.
“hear that, kai?” yoichi purrs, “she’s saying my fucking name.”
kaiser growls into your cunt as he lifts a hand to grip the plush skin of your ass before giving it a hard slap. your throat cracks and you nearly lose your balance, fingers tugging at his hair firmly as you try to catch yourself.
you hear yoichi hiss from the bench. “fuck, you like that? you like it rough?”
“god– fuck, yeah– yes, oh, god!” you cry, nearly about to lose yourself. kaiser laughs against you as he moves his tongue mercilessly along your bundle of nerves, sweet kitten-licks and long stripes from your needy hole up to cup your clit over and over again.
yochi’s face drops into an expression of dark, dirty tenacity as he finally stands up from the bench to approach you and kaiser. you thought he was going to tell him to stop, but instead, he pries your hands away from his hair so he can grip it himself. kaiser groans at the tension, thrums of bliss pushing you closer to orgasm.
yoichi’s leaning over now, mouth resting right beside his ear. he tugs roughly at his hair and hums, “stick a finger in at the last second, right before she comes. she loves that shit. didn’t you know?”
kaiser wants to be mad, because he actually wasn’t aware of that, but he’s too lost in your scent and taste to care. he does exactly what yoichi says, shoving his finger into your greedy hole just mere moments before you release.
with a sharp cry, you squirt all over his face, body convulsing as he pumps in and out of you and sucks at your puffy nub to help you ride through it. “mmm’fuck!”
“thatta girl,” yoichi praises, “get him aaaall nice and soaked for me.” he forces kaiser’s head away from you and kisses him messily, licking every drop of your cum off of his lips. they both moan in unison at the taste of you mixed with each other. “god, baby,” yoichi groans once he pulls away, “you’re so fucking sweet.” he wasn’t sure if he was talking to just you or you and kaiser.
kaiser stands up from the floor, one hand resting at your hip whilst the other lifts to cup your cheek. he leans in and kisses you slowly, just for a moment, until yoichi is rolling his eyes and tsking, pulling him off. “that’s enough.”
kaiser feels so… submissive in that moment.
you’re still trying to catch your breath when yoichi turns your body around and slams your chest against the wall. he rips your shirt off over your head before pressing open mouth kisses and sloppily licks all along your bare shoulders and neck. you shiver, palms pressing against the wall for leverage. his fingers slip between your dripping, sticky folds, then he sends it a hard slap. you choke out a moan, spit coating your pretty, red lips.
“here’s what we’re gonna do,” yoichi starts, “i’m going to fuck your needy little pussy first, then i’m going to let kai here stuff you full,” he bites down on your earlobe as he sends a second smack to your pussy, “and then you’re gonna decide which one of us actually knows how to ruin you properly.” you whimper as you nibble at your bottom lip. “sound good?”
you nod profusely, walls pulsing with need for both of them to make a wreck out of you like you weren’t already a fucking mess.
yoichi frees himself, then slides his length through your folds to prep himself for you, fisting his girthy length a few times to make sure he’s all perfect and hard for you. he lets out an elongated sigh when he finally pushes into you, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other your ass cheek. his teeth sink into your neck as he begins to move, slowly at first, making sure you feel every ridge of his big, fat cock against your walls.
“y–yoichi,” you whine, wriggling your ass against him, “move– hic– faster, p–please.”
“oh, sweetheart,” he coos, almost mockingly, “why didn’t you ever tell me you love being destroyed?” he pulls back near completely out of your hole, then slams back down into you hard. “poor little pussy has been neglected for so long because i didn’t know.”
his condescending blame causes heat to flood to your stomach, and you clench around his cock so greedily. he growls, shoving it deeper into your stomach.
“i–i wasn’t sure if you were into– ah– into that.”
he breaks out into a dark laugh from your assumption. “god, do you even know me? after an entire year together, you still haven’t caught on to my big fucking ego?” he moves your body away from the wall forcefully and bends you over a bench. you choke as his tip pistons into your deepest pleasure point, hands gripping the seat to red and white knuckles. “maybe it’ll finally click in that pretty little brain of yours after i’m done here with you.”
you nearly forgot kaiser was still there. your eyes look up at him for a moment to see he’s watching intensely, as if he’s trying to figure out what his counterplay is going to be when its his turn; to convince you that he knows how to fuck you best.
yoichi’s hand reaches around the front of you to grab your neck, shoving his thumb into your mouth simultaneously. he slaps your ass as he picks up his pace, teeth gritting at the beautiful, loud smacks of his pelvis against your skin.
“fuck, fuck!” you scream, head tempting to fall limp, but yoichi’s hand keeps it steady upright, “gonna make me fucking come–”
“just from my cock alone?” he smirks. “god, baby, your pussy loves me so much.” you're drooling all over his hands, cheeks flushed as you near falling apart for the second time. you bite down on his finger as he hits your sweet spot perfectly, cunt squeezing his cock with need. “you about to come, baby?” he coos, “can feel you getting so fucking wet f’me.”
“i–i’m so close,” you huff, sweaty strands of hair falling in front of your face. you groan as his veiny shaft glides across your g-spot, legs shaking as you begin to fall apart for him.
“good girl,” yoichi praises, “let me feel you.” you release all of your sweet juices with a long blissful hum, ass moving to meet him halfway as you desperately throw yourself back onto him.
yoichi’s breaths fall short as you continuously clench around him through your orgasm. “gonna fill up this pretty little cunt,” he bites down on his lip and chokes out a moan as he releases hot ropes of white into your warm walls. “yeah, take it just like that,” he gasps, hips stuttering as his thrusts begin to slow, “god, you’re so fucking good to me.”
he collapses onto your back, your body still shaking violently as the sweetest, prettiest whimpers sneak past your lips. yoichi plants soft kisses along your spine before gently removing himself from you and helping you to sit down on the bench.
your fucked-out face is the prettiest sight he’s ever seen in his life. he moves in closer and kisses you gentle and slow for a while, tongue sliding into your mouth in the most comforting way.
he smiles down at you proudly as he leans back up, full with every bit of deserved confidence from how good he just fucked you.
then, he remembered it wasn’t stopping there. he looks at kaiser, face still full of arrogance, as he just silently steps away to make space for him.
kaiser swallows hard, slowly approaching you. he was so sure of himself before, but now? after watching the way yoichi fucked you into next week, he wasn’t anymore.
“k–kai,” the way you whine his name and how you’re looking at him, so dazed and needy, sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. if he wasn’t hard enough before, fuck, he was now.
“what do you need, sweetheart?” he thrums softly like he isn’t about to break you, “does your sweet little pussy need my cock, hm?” you nod, lips slightly in a pout as you immediately open your legs for him. his breath hitches in his throat with how compliant you are. “fuck, you’re such a good girl, already knowing just what to do.”
you stare at his thick girth once it’s in view, salivating at the thought of him being inside of you again. yoichi stiffens, because he notices, but doesn’t step in to stop it. he agreed to this. he was too deep into his ego to let it go. he needed to prove he was better than your ex.
your breaths are uneven as kaiser slides into you, his long length bottoming you out instantly. you're already whimpering from the sensitivity as you throb around him.
“ah– shit,” you hiss, “you feel so g–good.”
“yeah?” kaiser thrusts deeper and harder and you yelp, “you missed me?”
you don’t want to say yes, but your mouth moves before your mind can stop you. “fuck, yeah.”
yoichi’s heart tugs from your words, but not from jealousy– humiliation. and he loved it. he loved the sickening feeling it gave him. he loved the thought of sharing you to destroy himself. this situation opened his eyes to how vanilla your sex life actually was; showed him all of the crazy, kinky, suppressed desires he had dormant that just needed the perfect moment to manifest. fuck, there was no way things could go back to that after this.
you let out the prettiest cry, “harder, kai,” and kaiser can’t do anything but listen to your plea.
he picks you up by your waist and presses you up against the lockers with a loud slam, thrusting into your greedy hole with resolve. he bites your jaw, running his wet tongue across your skin with every unforgiving thrust of his hips into yours.
“fuck,” kaiser growls, “you’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”
“keep go– shit, right there,” you gasp, “right fucking there!”
kaiser moves faster, his moans competing with yours. “you hear that yoichi?” he taunts, “hear how loud she’s getting for me?”
yoichi can’t help himself as he grips his leaky cock and fists it to the sight of your ex wrecking you. “fill her up, kai,” he huffs, throat cracking. he looks down for a moment to see his wet, creamy shaft coat his hand and groans. he felt like he was being used right then, and he loved every second of it. “shit,” he hisses, head falling back against the wall as he continues watching you two through his droopy eyelids. “give it to her,” he adds, “ruin her fucking cunt f’me.”
kaiser obliges. it seemed like he actually enjoyed taking orders.
“ah, fuck!” you cry, nails digging into his spine as your wrap your arms around him. your eyes roll as you feel him pound into your stomach. “i’m gonna fucking come!”
kaiser growls as he feels you start to spill all over him, grip on your ass growing firmer with each deep thrust. “just so you know, yoichi,” he huffs breathlessly, pulsing inside of your walls, “i can make her come with just my cock, too.”
he spurts his hot seed into your hole as you finally let go, allowing all of your sweet slick to drip out of you and all over him. you hear yoichi moan loudly, cursing under his breath as he comes onto his fist.
kaiser’s panting into the crook of your neck as he comes to a still, your arms still wrapped around him for leverage. he gently removes himself from you and sits you down on the bench again, permitting you time to pull yourself together.
the room reeks of sweat, sex, and unspoken secrets as the three of you quietly calm again. once you do, the rush of dopamine begins to dissipate and reality sets in. you’re all looking between each other, wondering where to go from here. clearly, you still harboured some level of feelings for kaiser and vice versa. yet, it was very obvious that you felt deeply for yoichi, and much more than the latter.
“thank you,” you say to kaiser, “this was probably the best sex i’ve had in a while,” he’s confused for a moment of where the conversation is going. you continue speaking, “but my heart rests with yoichi now.” you send him an apologetic smile.
kaiser’s heart sinks, but not as much as he expects it to. he knew all along that, in the end, your choice would most likely be yoichi. he wasn’t the greatest boyfriend, and no amount of good fucking could make up for that. he lets out a sigh of defeat, but accepts your decision. “yeah,” he laughs deflated, “i kind of figured.”
yoichi wants to one-up him arrogantly about it, but doesn’t, almost feeling bad for the guy.
back in the apartment, yoichi’s rubbing sweet circles into your plush thighs as you lay together on the couch, watching an episode of your favourite tv series. he plants a kiss onto your neck and you sigh.
“can i ask you something?” you question.
he lifts his head to look down at you. “shoot.”
“why did you agree to earlier?” you ask. “why did you allow me and my ex to fuck, and literally in front of you?”
he laughs at that, but his smile is sincere. “like i said, i have a big fucking ego. i had something i wanted to prove,” he says, “but i also discovered there’s a lot more i’m into that i just never allowed myself to explore.”
“like?”
“humiliation, exhibitionism, voyeurism– literally everything i didn’t know i wanted until now.”
“hmm,” you think, rolling onto your back so you can look straight at him. “with all of that being said, would you ever want to do something like that again?”
he lifts his brow at you with a smirk. “do you?”
you shrug, “maybe,” then smile wickedly, “but it’d have to be kaiser. only him. i’m not interested in another dick that isn’t yours or his,” you admit, honestly and openly.
yoichi expected himself to be angry at the suggestion, but instead, it made his heart skip a beat. “yeah,” he chuckles, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips, “i was thinking the exact same thing.”
can u write otoya x reader who works at a maid cafe but they highkirkenuinely suck at their job bc they r NAWT cute. Behavior wise. They suck at customer service. No idea how they r still hired. They only work there for the huzz. They’re not even clumsy or anything, its just their personality
Lollll this was funny to write. Otoya’s lowk pretty simple to write for.
☆╭(Lousy job.)╮─── 1.5k.
Eita Otoya x GN Maid Cafe!Reader.
Part two.
While he does like maid cafes, it's not something he frequents. Being pampered by cuties after a long day is always tempting, but Otoya needs his fill of the chase. Sure, getting everything done for you was nice, and sure, being greeted at the door with a "welcome, master!" was cute, but maids hardly have substance. What he wants is a challenge, someone that he can pursue and not get bored of when they finally get caught in his arms.
A challenge you were, alright. How you fell in his arms was quite a wild story to tell.
The first time he visited was on a busy Sunday. Alone, of course, because no one goes to maid cafes except losers who need human attention and can't get that anywhere else. Seated next to the window, Otoya hums to himself as he scours the cafe, pleased with the amount of cuteness in every waiter.
She's super tiny. That one has a bow on his chest... nice. What's up with the one stumbling into people? Nice face, though.
Stumbling? Not really. You were simply being shoved around by the onslaught of desperate suitors who wanted to get to your more popular coworkers in the break room. You had your hands filled with so much panic that you hardly heard your manager's shouting for you to "get on the floor and serve someone," when you could hardly raise your voice enough at the people pushing past you and your frills.
"I'm busy!" you screamed back at her, earning a glare from the people seated around you. Even your loopy ribbons and tight clothes didn't deter people from the fact you were rude.
Your manager ripped you from the crowd to point a threat in your face. You barely heard the end of her sentence before she shoved you from behind the counter, and you sauntered your way over to Otoya, who sat with his legs spread and head tilted.
You're cute. Face wise, at least. What wasn’t cute was the way you immediately started complaining about the rush of customers to him before he could even ask for a drink.
“‘Scuse me,” he declared, throwing a lazed hand behind his head. “Can I order first before you start goin’ off?”
Your chattering pauses and you give him a narrow glare like that wasn’t your obligation. Because really, how dare he interrupt you while you’re grieving about this stupid job? Does he have any respect for other people?
“What do you want?” You bite at him as you flip open your notepad. The tip of your pen digs into the paper already, making an ever growing black dot of ink between the lines.
Otoya looks at you and wonders if this is part of the persona people put on for their job. Sometimes maid cafes will hire people and purposefully make them act shy and cute, but this was a kind of personality he wasn’t familiar with. Maybe you were trying to go for the ‘blunt and rude tsundere’ type? If so, you aren’t doing very well. It didn’t seem like acting at all.
“Lemme get the omurice special. Cherry matcha latte too, okay, pretty?” He quips. Your personality was less than desirable, but your face was nice to look at. He bets he could get you to turn to mush if he used ninjutsu technique lift-chin-and-whisper-into-ear.
You took his order and left.
You left??
Otoya's left a little stunned. Shouldn't this be the part where you squeal and compliment his choice in food? Something like ooh, I love our cherry matcha! Do you wanna share? Ah, I'm on the clock! That can't happen... and then he'd pull you in close and whisper into your ear, it's alright, I don't mind... as long as you give me your number later.
His daydreaming leaves a dazed look on his face as he spaces out at the back of the person in front of him. You didn't even react to him calling you pretty. Isn't it like, company policy to treat every guest with special care? You just left without even a 'I'll be back with your food' and basically ignored him. Were you really suited for this job?
He lets his eyes focus on you, where you run around and take people's orders too hastily. Not even a smile and a hello at any table you stop at, just writing orders and leaving for the kitchen. It's not even busy. A Thursday early afternoon doesn't call for the level of hurry you're putting into your writing. If only you tried half as hard at customer service.
The crowd from earlier had already dissipated. He was one of many other tables, but the amount of maids patrolling the floor made him wonder why you were even kept around. You're cute, yeah, but your personality— or lack thereof— is a huge turnoff. Guess they need a variety of people to draw people in.
Otoya loves his free time. Searching the area for chicks, messing around with the people that pass by, doing whatever he wants is always a liberty he takes advantage of, but an hour of waiting for omurice is insane. Waiting an hour and a half without a drink is insane. Not even water?? You passed by his table one, two, three times and even made direct eye contact the last time. You stormed up to his table with two omurice in your hands— maybe as an apology dish— walked up, hesitated, and walked the other way.
He's absolutely dumbfounded. You had to be doing this on purpose. Otoya came here to relax and be pampered by cute maids and drink overpriced matcha. Now he's waiting for omurice he's confident has gone cold already. Your looks can't make up for this horrible service.
After a total of 1.5 hours of waiting, you finally place the omurice in front of Otoya, right when he'd gotten his wallet and was about to walk out. The only reason he hadn't yet was because of the amount of maids that came around to check on him, filling his boredom with empty conversations and two extra numbers in his phone.
"About time," he comments. The omurice isn't cold, rather, it was steaming. Guess he was still being served fresh food. "Where have you been?" He lightly asks.
"Busy, obviously," you reply curtly.
"Is it because I cut you off earlier you don't wanna complain to me anymore? I'm sure we could talk later," Otoya hints as he picks up his fork.
"..." He read you quickly. "I don't need your shoulder to cry on," you respond with your arms crossing your chest.
"Yeah? Then why're you still here?" He joked. Not a single twitch on his face showed amusement, but he beckoned you closer with his hand.
You hesitate. You have no reason to cater to his whims, but his slim eyes draw you in. You lean down, paying no mind to the way your clothes outline your hips as you do. You do notice the way his gaze follows your figure.
"Should you even be working here right now?" he asks. Before you can turn and storm off in offense, he continues. "why don't you ditch your work since you're obviously not good for it and hang out with me for a while, yeah?"
You listen carefully. It's tempting, very tempting, but the reason you work is to rack up on money. Plus, getting hit on by guys like him gives you a pretty good confident boost. Should you give up hanging out with someone who looks like he's got money to spend on fun or that extra 20% of minimum wage?
You hesitate for a moment, leaning back to full height. Otoya follows you carefully and his eyes land on your glimmering lips, which he hadn't noticed was coated with lipgloss before.
"'Kay," you tell him before swiftly leaving. So you just do that with all tables, huh.
He's barely finished with his omurice— which by the way, tasted like it had been heated up in a tire— when you come back in casual clothes, your manager trailing behind you with a dangerous look on her face. Your arm sweeps his wrist and launches him out of his chair, barely managing to leave money on the table for the bill as you clatter both him and you into nearby chairs on your way out.
"Gee, didn't know you were this excited," he comments as you tug him along.
"You promised fun. Give it to me," you reply. He has no idea what your motives or what your thought process could even be, clearly walking out on the clock like that. You must really like him, huh. This pleasant surprise almost makes up for your horrible service.
He regains his balance and wipes his lips with his thumb, swiping away lingering ketchup on the corner of his mouth before walking next to you. "Got it, boss."
can u write hiori stalking karasu and y/n stalking hiori while he stalks karasu and karasu somehow knows about both of these ϵ( 'Θ' )϶ maybe all three of them r on the same soccer team too, so probably male reader but it doesnt matyer too much
Some lines from Karasu and Hiori are taken directly from @/hoshi801_ 's light novel translation. (On Twt)
☆╭(Two of the Same.)╮─── 2.8k.
Tabito Karasu x Yo Hiori x M!Reader.
Though I say it's male reader because they're on the same soccer team, there's actually no use of he/him. So fem readers can imagine it's a co-ed team or smth idk.
Practice never ended early enough.
Sweat that ran down your back slicks your uniform to your skin. The crusty soccer ball in your hands is too grimy to hold for more than three seconds, a reminder of the disgusting sport you were obligated to play. Bright and enthusiastic faces surround you on the field, eager to rest and start the day anew tomorrow. Except one.
Hiori never smiled. He didn't mingle. He didn't linger. His habit of practicing in silence and leaving as quickly as he came was something you noticed, because it was a routine you followed too. Scarily alike, sometimes you two would walk out at the same time and part ways at the school gates. He never spoke a word to you, always keeping his head low and dark. You didn't speak to him either, because there was no real reason to.
Soon, that shared practice became a little more than ordinary. You found yourself packing your bag quicker when he left particularly early. Your drills would drag on for a little longer because he hadn't left the field yet. When he turned the opposite direction at the gates, you'd find yourself staring into his back, wondering where he was always in a rush to get to, and what his purpose for playing was. He looked just about as happy as you during training, which was the equivalent of a cat having to take a bath.
Today, your hands are shifting around in your bag, looking for something that doesn't exist as you wait for a sign that Hiori was leaving the field. With your back turned to the grass, you let yourself still to hear any movements behind you. The sun casts your shadow long and thin in front of you, surrounded by color you felt yourself devoid of.
"Hiori Yo, you're remarkable," you hear. It was Karasu, the expert analyst of your team. Charismatic, intelligent, and a smooth talker are all jammed into one person when you think of Tabito Karasu. What was he talking to Hiori for?
You feel as if you should leave. This conversation isn't meant for you, and you weren't the biggest on eavesdropping anyway. Especially on the topic of eroticism.
You slowly move to finally zip up your bag, giving up on your imaginary search.
"...As if your heart and body are out of sync in your play… You don’t like soccer, do you?" Karasu finishes when your zipper is closed.
His words strike straight through Hiori, lodging themself into you as well. They weren't meant for you, but it felt like a crow's beak was prodding through your chest, into your heart, exposing all of you.
"…Yes. You’re amazing, Karasu. I guess it’s really obvious for some people," Hiori says. His words carry more emotion than you've ever seen from him. Karasu was able to draw that out of him by saying something so obvious— something that you should've said first. You noticed the disinterest in soccer that drained life from Hiori's eyes so long ago. You're slightly angry with yourself that Hiori's words didn't have your name in them.
"…Do you like to be 'expected,' Karasu?" His voice perks you up from your thoughts, listening intently again. Expected... to play soccer? "I’ve always lived a life of being 'expected'… so maybe… that’s why I think… I came to hate soccer…"
You can't help but pity him. Your hunch was correct, which brings a sense of pride in you. You and Hiori were alike in ways you didn't expect, and you can't help but wonder what else you could find in common. When Karasu calls Hiori "boring," you almost turn your head around.
"You don’t have to worry about how it looks to other people until later. First of all, it’s about yourself. Expect from yourself. Excite yourself. That's the only way to get anything done, you idiot," he concludes. You hear footsteps pad away from Hiori, growing louder towards you, and you quickly sling your bag over your shoulder.
You end up stepping off the field the same time as Karasu, something that didn't bring pleasure in your heart.
Karasu said something meaningful to Hiori, but it stopped there. You don't understand the mediocre advice that was given between the two at the end. You're supposed to expect from yourself, to excite yourself, to focus on yourself? That's what anyone does. Your expectations come from your focus on your excitements, and sometimes what is exciting is what others expect from you. You can't help but think the words were contradictory.
Karasu overtakes you and walks further from you, and you watch his back that's painted in warm shades grow smaller. You're worried about Hiori, who received Karasu's advice. When you turn your head to the field, you blink away the piercing rays that hit your eyes. Through your squinting, you see Hiori facing towards you. His gaze is on Karasu before shifting to meet your dull eyes. The sudden contact makes you freeze and look away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught looking at him.
You turn forward again, eyes to the ground, and begin walking away. You think this might be the first time Hiori ever looked you in the eye. The fact he noticed you made something shift in your chest.
What you didn't notice was Karasu's careful peripheral observation of you two, scoffing to himself when both of you turned your head to the ground.
The next day, you start to watch Hiori carefully. As much as you relate to him, you can't help but wonder what it is about him that made Karasu approach him. In your mind, you and Hiori are cut from the same cloth, so what separates you two that Karasu notices?
A few days pass by of you observing Hiori in locker rooms, gym rooms, and on the field. You've reached three distinct differences that make Hiori stand out, though you've always seen Hiori a little more than the others.
1) His playing on the field is superb.
It isn't as if you haven’t noticed this fact before, but when you watch him closely, Hiori's movements are always polished. His tall build and slender figure allow him to slip through slim openings and open up chances for the team. When he passes, it looks instinctual. Perhaps it is. You question who it is that trains Hiori outside of regular practice— there's no way that talent is natural. That very question arises another fact, along with more questions.
What ties him to soccer?
2) His emotions appear gone.
You never like to express much in both expressions and words. You kept to yourself, much like Hiori, but you showed anger at times. Frustration, sadness, and rarely wonder were still apparent in your catalog of feelings. Hiori never smiled. He never raised his voice. He never even bunched his eyebrows. He's devoid of feeling. Is that the lock that chains him to soccer?
He doesn't like soccer, but he never shows it... is that the reason he's able to keep playing?
3) The only thing that brings Hiori a spark in his eyes is Karasu.
It's hard not to notice his attention on Karasu. Each time you would watch Hiori, he would already be watching Karasu. You would be lying if you said that you weren't yearning for him to look at you like that too. You and him are so similar that it feels like you're suffocating every time he watches Karasu with a newfound excitement behind his blank face.
Look at me too. I saw you first.
You never had incentive to put effort in anything, but it feels like Hiori is slipping out of your vacuum of a bubble. You liked his empty presence next to you when you walked the same path to the gates, the way silence was a space you and him fit neatly into, and the few minutes where you could stare into his diminishing light blue hair before he turned the corner, wondering if one day you'd get enough courage to make a conversation with him like Karasu did.
Hiori appeared next to you less and less after practice, always staying behind for longer to observe Karasu. You did the same, but always had to leave earlier. You want him next to you again, or at least in your line of sight.
Today, Hiori takes a different route, to your surprise. You've had enough days where he wasn't next to you anymore, so you make the move to follow him. If he's going to be unpredictable, the least you can do is try and figure out a small piece of the puzzle.
He shoves a baseball cap into his hair and sets off, and you tail behind him quietly. Your steps blend into his, and you start to get the itching feeling that this isn't right. You already eavesdropped on one of his conversations in earlier days, and now you're following him. It's not stalking, you reassure yourself. It's just admiration.
You board the train he gets on, meshing yourself into passengers three seats away. You don't get comfortable as shortly after, Hiori gets off with you in tow.
His path is odd. Sometimes he'll slow his steps or pause completely like he knows you're following him, to which you would duck behind a corner or a tree, before continuing on without even looking behind him.
His steps take you to a rich neighborhood filled with tiled porches and herbs lining the fences, then to a shady park with rusted swings and patchy grass. The switch in atmosphere surprises you. You begin to think Hiori's homeless and that's why he's so numb to everything, but he cuts through the park too before bolting away.
?! You're caught off guard as he darts forward, and you quickly move to make up the lost distance. This is the only time you're grateful for your captain's sprinting drills as you easily tail him.
When he turns the corner, he stops abruptly, making you shudder from the anxiety of getting caught and duck behind the corner you just came out from.
He murmurs something that you can't exactly hear, but "...not here?" is audible enough. Your heart jolts and you shrink yourself more into the corner, letting only your eyes come out from behind the stone.
The tunnel, viney and shrouded with a spooky glow, almost solidifies your assumption that he's homeless as he takes cautious steps into the alley. Why he would choose to live in a scary, worn out, horror-like tunnel is beyond you.
You almost reveal yourself from the corner to follow him, but you quickly freeze when you see Karasu's familiar spikes. You were so focused on Hiori you didn't even notice him in the tall grass beside the tunnel's entrance, but now you're fully aware of the fact that he was the one being followed by Hiori.
Suddenly, Hiori's arbitrary routes make sense. So he was following Karasu. You're slightly perplexed by the extent that Hiori would go just to know about him. Ah, but I'm sort of in the same situation...
Hiori's yelp draws your attention near the end of the tunnel, where Karasu has caught him by his cap. They speak too far for you to hear, and you consider whether or not to leave. You don't know if they'll turn to walk the way they came, so you quickly stand and decide to stop following Hiori for today. It would be bad if you got caught, too.
They seem to be conversing more normally than you expected. You thought for sure Karasu would blow his top at being stalked, but they look relaxed. Jealousy tugs at your heart again, and you'd rather not think about why that is.
Unluckily, as soon as you step out to turn, your foot hits harshly on a large branch that jutted out from the aged stone. You trip over yourself trying to regain your balance, falling flat on your stomach right before the entrance of the tunnel, and you can feel both of their gazes on you.
Your head stays down for longer than necessary, too mortified to look at anything but the dry grass underneath you. Footsteps approach you as you tense from the nearing pads of their shoes. You hope Hiori won't hate you after this.
"Looks like we've got another stalker," Karasu states with a hand on his chin while he leans down to you. "Didn't know I was that popular."
Hiori calls your name and you physically flinch. "What are ya doing here? Were you following Karasu too?"
He admits to stalking Karasu so openly? You marvel, finally raising your head to look them in the eye. Karasu's crouched down with his heels underneath him while Hiori stands straight with his hands behind his back, and you notice how his light blue eyes aren't that usual glazed grey.
Karasu sighs at Hiori's words, shaking his head. "Probably here for you, actually. Hiori." he states. His head tilts when your face grows shocked. "Don't look so surprised. With the way ya gawk at him, I'm not really surprised that ya'd follow him. Though..."
He looks up at Hiori, who simply meets his eyes with a raised-brow expression. "...this situation's too unreal. A stalker followin' a stalker."
Your head dips as shame washes over you. You're still on the ground on your stomach, and the way Hiori almost stands over you makes you feel too inferior. You want him next to you, not above you.
"...Me?" Hiori asks, pointing a finger to himself. You raise your head to look at him. He's looking at you with curiosity, with the spark in his eye you've been chasing all this time, but all that twists in your heart is anxiety.
You nod slightly, the movement almost unnoticeable as you lower your head again.
You don't notice the way Hiori tilts his head at you or the way his eyes glimmer with a newfound recognition of you.
"Have ya really been watching me all this time?" He asks too politely.
Karasu stands with a grunt and pats away grass clippings on his pants, shooting a knowing look at him. "The answer's yeah, y'know." He turns to you on the ground. "Ya just can't seem to take yer eyes offa Hiori whenever he's around."
You don't notice Hiori's small, cracked smile. You don't notice Karasu shifting his eyes between you and Hiori.
"Get up," Karasu commands you with an open hand. You raise your head for a final time and stare at his palm for a moment, before grunting and clasping your hand in his. He pulls you up with little effort.
"Quit that stalkin' stuff. It's creepy," he tells you with a steady gaze. Next to him, Hiori shifts closer. You immediately shift your eyes to Hiori and back away a little, almost intimidated.
"Why follow me?" He asks. You never knew Hiori was so blunt.
"...I...." Your voice tries to come out, but it's not so easy. To admit that you wanted him to notice you, to relate to you, to just be by your side is too embarrassing to leave your mouth. "I want to know more about you," you finally say, the summarized version of your motives.
He nods like it explains everything you've done. Karasu crosses his arms and looks between you two, chirping up. "You two're super alike, now that I think about it." Your head nearly whips to him in surprise and he smirks at that reaction. "Both super creepy. And erotic on the field."
That odd eroticism again...
Hiori watches your expression contort into confusion, shock, and a muddy look of disgust. Your funny face makes him giggle behind his fist, closing his eyes to fully immerse his chest in the chuckles from his throat. You look at Hiori like he sprouted a halo and wings. He's laughing.
Hiori is experiencing firsts too. He is happy, and the warmth in his heart spreads slowly as he stands with you and Karasu. His first time stalking and being stalked was a funny situation. He doesn't know what you expect from him, but to be seen without the expectation of what he needs to be makes him too happy. His laughter doesn’t stop even as you and Karasu exchange concerned glances, and he laughs with all the emotion he's stored away.
Loud and hearty, his laughter is sweeter than any candy you've tasted. He might be laughing at you, but the fact that he's finally seeing you too makes your cheeks warm. Karasu just shakes his head again with a stupidly wide grin on his face, huffing out small chuckles until they morph with Hiori's laughs. You couldn't help but break a smile yourself, lips twitching from the unfamiliar sensation, and you laugh with more relief than you thought you could feel.
Hiori really is someone you want to keep close. He's a mirror of what you could be, the ideal player to fight alongside, surprisingly kind, and understanding in the way he worms into your heart without even realizing it. Karasu is a better guy than you thought, too.
Today, to your surprise, is filled with laughter and open doors.
。・゜・(A/N)・゜・。
To my ϵ( 'Θ' )϶ anon (I have no idea what you want to be referred as), I promise I do see ur Loki request but it's gonna take me a little cus I have plans... also lmk if you do want smut or not because I am okay with either
in today's broadcast: a second look at bimbo!reader and her boyfriend alexis ness! featuring a permanent pain in the ass, michael kaiser! "he just won't stop trying to steal my girl!" alexis complains in an interview.
MDNI cw: fem!reader, smut, cucking (kaiser in the chair) into giving him a little taste, unprotected piv, bj&hj
"oh, lexiii~" your cheery voice echoes through the hall, the clicking of your heels swift and purposeful. your boyfriend just helped his team win yet another match, he deserves some pampering.
he's freshly changed and showered, having just now exited the locker room. his face lights up once his eyes land on you, gaze briefly directed to your barely-covered chest. he feels his pulse spike, you're so incredibly gorgeous. he heard your maniacal screaming from the stands, your support for him, and only him, clear to everyone around.
he can't wait until he can cozy up with you, feel your fingers running through his hair while he lays his head on your plush tits. maybe he can even cop a feel. though, knowing you, you'll probably put his hands there yourself.
he's about to walk up to you himself, but his vision is suddenly impeded by someone standing in front of him, back to his face. the blue rat tails give it away, as if his annoyingly smug tone didn't do so already.
"fancy seeing you here, schatz," kaiser drawls, "how kind of you to come watch me. did you come so you could give me my second win of the night?"
the clicking of your heels briefly halts, and so does his heartbeat. of course he would interrupt, he's like a sleeper agent, reactive to your voice at a moments notice.
"actually," you take a few steps closer, leaning to the side to look past him, "i'm here for lexi."
alexis is met with your bright smile as he sees your face emerge from behind his friend. his own lighting up again in an instant, "my sweetheart," he reaches out for you, trapping you in his hold the second you step into his embrace.
you both willfully ignore the scoff coming from kaiser. which is made a lot easier for alexis when you slot your cherry-flavored lips onto his, his face reddening rapidly as you waste no time before you suckle on his tongue so loudly it mirrors the echo of your heels just moments earlier. your fingers tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck, giving him an enticing preview of what's to come when he joins you home.
it's only when you finally decide you've made the situation uncomfortable enough for the people around that may or may not have scurried past that you pull away, cherry chapstick and it's subtle coloring smudged on your and your boyfriends lips.
panting, his fingers dig into your hips. as if hypnotized, unable to look away from your angelic features. a small smile gracing his lips, lovesick gaze a reflection of your own.
his smile tightens when the intimate, albeit slightly misplaced, moment is interrupted by someone clearing their throat. your eyes snap to kaiser who's doing a poor job at hiding his annoyance, if he was even trying at all. the grimace pulling the corners of his lips down paired with the furrow in his brows more telling than any insult he ever hurled at alexis prior to this.
you raise a brow, your boyfriends presence doing wonders to keep you calm even through an interruption that rude, "can we help you?" you smile, strained as it may be.
kaiser's expression quickly morphs back into his usual confident facade. he leans his shoulder against the wall, eyeing you hungrily, "do i get a kiss too? i am the mvp of this match, after all."
you feel alexis' grip on you tighten, he won't say anything, but his displeasure is clear. he hides his face in your neck, unable to look kaiser in the eye. embarrassed he's unable to defend you, leaving you to deal with such unwanted advances on your own.
your voice is sickly sweet as you pet the magenta haired man, holding him close, as if sheltering him, "my lexi is always the mvp to me, micha."
a scowl ghosts over his face just long enough for you to notice. annoyed enough that you're irritated in the first place, your life always designed to be as stress free as possible. at least, if alexis had anything to say about it. you pull your boyfriends hair to level his face with you again, feeling petty about your little moment being ruined.
as kaiser shows no signs of wanting to leave you two alone just yet, you press alexis' back to the wall behind him, batting your lashes as he sputters, eyes wide and chest flushed all the way up his neck and face. his fingers dig into your hips, hard enough to surely bruise later. it's no matter, as he'll just kiss it better.
with one last glance to a surprised kaiser, you close the distance between you and alexis, kissing him deeply, your tongue meeting his directly thanks to his parted lips. likely from the shock from your boldness.
hands running up and down his chest, thighs clenching in sync with his adorable whimpers. he gasps out your name when your hands make their way under his shirt, caressing over his defined abs. he cries out when your manicured nail, that he paid for, scratches against a vein leading down his v-line. "f-fuck, 'm so sensitive," he pants.
you bite your lip, pulling away briefly, "should i take care of it for you, lexi?"
you look so sinful yet so innocent it makes his head spin. he nods eagerly, eyes glazed over by a need for more of your touch. his skin burns where you've touched him, and the hardness of his cock through his sweats is digging into your belly. "please, i need you," he pleads, voice cracking midway through.
"can you wait until we get home?" you run another nail down the middle line on his stomach.
he shakes his head. he'll explode sooner than you can walk out of this building. sweat drips down the side of his face, tired from the exertion of holding himself back from just pouncing on you. "i'll die," he croaks.
you can't help but giggle, pouting up at him in sympathy, "aww, my poor boyfriend needs his dick sucked? well, aren't you so lucky."
you take your hands from underneath his shirt and grab him by the arm. you tug him into the, by now, empty locker room, purposefully leaving the door open. just in case.
the lights are still on, bright and obnoxious, but it's perfect for the show you wish to put on. you sit alexis down on one of the benches and kiss him again while lowering yourself onto your knees in between his legs. the tiles are cold and quite harsh on the knees, but it'll have to do.
lips still entwined, your hand dips below the waistband of his sweats, the only thing between you and him now a soaked-through pair of boxer briefs. you feel him tense, his legs around you twitching with the urge to close.
his hands are cupping your face just to keep them occupied, the noises he lets out are nothing short of adorable. pathetic, if he wasn't your boyfriend. but he is, and thank fuck for that because you'd surely use your nails for way less nice purposes if someone came onto him.
he whines when you pull away from the kiss, a line of spit collecting you two still. your face warms, he looks so cute, so spent already. and he's all yours.
you pull his pants down together with his underwear, he lifts his hips to help you. trembling in anticipation as you grab his already rock-hard and dripping cock into your hand. a tiny squeeze is all it takes for him to let out the most high pitched sound yet. somewhere between a moan of relief and a whine, "please, please, please," he lifts his hips again, already out of breath.
you giggle, "such a cutie, lexi. don't worry, i'll make it all better."
lowering your head, you take his tip into your mouth, suckling while maintaining eye contact. well, it would be if his eyes didn't roll into the back of his skull the second your lips met his crown.
swiping your tongue along his slit and under his foreskin, a full body shudder runs through him, knuckles white as he grips the edge of the bench. his hips are twitching with the urge to thrust up, but he's a good boy, and he'd never hurt you like that.
you hollow your cheeks, taking more and more of him into your mouth and down your throat with each bob of your head. the filthy sound of your sucking and gagging ring through the empty room, and do plenty to disguise the involuntary sounds of the person still standing outside, who's just now moved closer to the door.
ignoring the ache that has been building in your own gut is near impossible, especially since you're 100% convinced kaiser is listening. you hadn't heard him walk away, and you're quite certain the heavy breathing was not coming from your whimpering boyfriend.
with a sick pop! you pull your mouth off of his cock, his hips instinctively searching for it back, "liebling! fuck, please, don't stop..!" tears gather in his waterline.
you kiss his cheek as you stand up, knees already sore, "i have a better place for you to stick your dick, lexi. come on, now~"
you bend over the bench, flipping up your tiny skirt. looking back at him over your shoulder as he scrambles onto his feet to get behind you. normally, he'd take his time with prep, but right now he's way too desperate.
he's about to sob as you stop him just before he can put it in. blood running cold as you call you, "micha.. i know you're there." your tone is teasing, and oh-so arousing.
his eyes dart to the door, one he didn't realize was open all this time. he's horrified, but the thought of showing kaiser how good he makes you feel sends a new type of thrill through him he hasn't experienced before.
a beat of silence passes before the first tuft of blond hair appears in the door, followed by the rest of an extremely flustered kaiser. his cock is rock-hard in his shorts, jaw set tight. even if he isn't the one who gets to fuck you, no one in their right mind would pass up the sight for sore eyes that you are.
he closes the door behind him, the sound providing a sort of finality to the situation. he sits down on a bench on the other side of the room, hand already squeezing his cock through the fabric covering it. he has a clear view of where ness' cock will soon be entering your soaking and fluttering cunt. jealousy floods his veins, but even he knows that watching is better than sticking to his imagination. and he has imagined you, and embarrassing amount of times.
you feel alexis basically vibrating behind you, and with one last sultry look at him over your shoulder you shake your ass gently, the plush flesh jiggling, inviting him to finally take what he needs.
and he does. in one harsh stroke, he's knocked the air out of your both. he takes no time to regain his breath as he starts rutting into you desperately. by now he's familiar enough with your body that even in such a frenzy he knows just how to angle his hips to hit exactly where you need him to.
the slick sounds of him sliding in and out, combined with skin-slapping so loud it would make the most stoic of men blush creates a perfect harmony of filth. and it is soon joined by the slicked up noises of kaiser aggressively fisting his cock to the sight. lip tucked between his lips as he listens to your sinful moans, while he tries to ignore ness' ear-piercing cries.
he wishes he was the one making you feel this good. he could lead you, take care of you so much better than that crybaby. and yet he can never act on it. you chose ness, and he's being reminded of that fact in the most humiliating way possible. being able to see your pretty pussy from so close is the only silver lining.
you reach your hand down to rub furiously at your clit, alexis' pace only increasing as he fucks into you like he's got something to prove.
the pleasure is white hot, coursing through your veins as stars explode behind your eyelids. hot liquid spurts onto the floor, and you feel your boyfriend's cum fill you not long after.
he thrusts a couple more times, before stilling, plugging you up so none of it leaks out. another way of claiming you in front of, who feels is like, his biggest threat. trying to catch his breath he leans over you, leaning his forehead between your shoulder blades.
you look back at kaiser, who's movements have slowed, but he hasn't finished just yet. "lexi? mind if i give him a hand?"
his head shoots up, and kaiser looks like a hungry dog who's just been thrown a bone, "really?" your boyfriend whimpers.
"don't worry, it's just my hand," you assure him, motioning kaiser to stand in front of you. alexis petulantly stays nestled inside your puffy heat, a pout you don't see gracing his cute features.
kaiser jumps at the opportunity, even if he is a tad disappointed by not getting to be inside your mouth at least. those feelings evaporate from his mind instantly when your hand makes contact with his throbbing, furiously red and dripping cock. skin rubbed raw, now embraced by a gentle touch.
it takes a few measly strokes to have him thrusting into your hand, rope after rope of creamy cum shooting out to cover your face. he doesn't dare make a noise, but you can tell he's far from having ever experienced something like this before. especially from his 'lap dog's' girlfriend he's had his eye on for way longer than ness has.
"how was that?" he wants to answer your question, your sweet and caring voice making his heart skip a few beats, only for him to then realize the question is directed not at him, but at ness. you've stood up from you position on the bench, the sight of cum dripping between your legs and from your face onto your chest is enough to stir his dick again, but the way ness is on you immediately, wiping your face and your legs with a spare towel sours his mood right away. he tucks himself away angrily and storms out of the room, leaving a giggling you and ness behind, utterly humiliated.
at least, the sight of your face covered in his cum will last him as a lifetime of jerk-off material.
back at your place, alexis' head is resting on your chest, just like he wished earlier. hand squeezing your tit like a stress ball, he looks up at you with his wide, doe eyes, "why'd you invite him?"
your hand scratching his scalp stops briefly before you resume, "i don't really know, he just irritated me so i wanted to do something about it. i haven't upset you, have i, lexi?"
your little pout has him shaking his head vigorously, "not at all!" he lowers his head back down, nuzzling his cheek onto your tit, "i liked it. showing him i've got something he can't ever have."
giggling, you tilt his head up and place a soft kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips, "indeed, lexi. it'll always be you."
a/n: i dont know what happened i wrote this in two goes in one day i suppose this is the effect of writing for the loml (ness)
@yunisl bro youre so fucking peak i was abt to scroll away and js nkt read this, im so glad i did only cuz i saw the shit load of word vomit u jad on ur repost, ly bro🥹
・❥・smut mdni the bunny you grew up with was so cute, tiny and oh so easy to tease. jokes on you, this 6'3 menace hasn't forgotten one bit
you remember when he was small.
god, that's the funniest part of all this. you remember when bunny iglesias came up to your shoulder. maybe your collarbone if he really stretched. little kid with scruffled hair that stuck up weird in the back and these huge red eyes that blinked at you like a baby deer every time you teased him about it.
"you're so tiny," you'd tell him, and you'd put your hand flat on top of his head to measure, making a big dramatic show of the height difference. "how are you even real? you're like a little toy person."
and he'd just look up at you with that soft, open expression he had back then. not angry. not embarrassed, really. just… watching you. those red irises tracking your face with a patience that felt strange on a kid his age.
"i'll be taller than you someday," he said once, very simply.
you laughed. you actually laughed.
"sure you will, bunny."
he didn't say anything after that. just kept looking at you with those big eyes, and something in them you couldn't name. you were too busy being seventeen and tall and certain of yourself to pay attention to the thing settling quietly behind his expression.
you stopped seeing him regularly when you went to college. life moved. you heard things secondhand, the way you do with people who drift to the edges of your world. heard he made a youth team. heard he made the team. saw his name on sports sites you weren't even looking for. bunny iglesias. 191 centimeters. FC Barcha. twelve goals mid-season.
twelve goals.
you thought about that flat hand on the top of his head and felt something strange move through your stomach.
you didn't go looking for trouble when you ran into him at a mutual friend's thing. seriously. you were just there for the free drinks and to catch up with someone you actually liked.
but then there he was.
and listen. you knew, objectively, from the articles, from the photos. you knew he'd gotten tall. but knowing it and standing in front of it are two categorically different experiences.
he was across the room when you spotted him. talking to someone, head tilted slightly, that same unhurried stillness he'd had as a kid, that same patience, except now it was wrapped around a frame that made the guy next to him look like he was standing in a different scale. lavender hair, a black cap with a rabbit's face on it, scars on his face that you hadn't seen before, vertical line down his right eye, a horizontal one crossing his cheek and nose.
the scars made something tighten in your chest, but you didn't look away.
he turned before you got the chance to decide what to do. like he already knew where you were standing.
those red eyes found you across the room and his mouth curved into that soft, gentle smile. quiet. easy. like nothing in the world.
"hey," he said, when he drifted over, because of course he came to you first, of course he did. his voice was lower than you remembered. "it's been a while."
"yeah," you said. "it really has."
you had to look up at him.
you didn't know what to do with that.
"you got tall," you said, because you're an idiot apparently and his smile didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. something warm and slow and patient, like he'd been waiting for you to say exactly that.
"you told me i would," he said.
you don't actually remember who suggested leaving. maybe it was mutual. the details blurred together in the specific way that details do when something is already inevitable and your brain knows it before your mouth catches up. what you remember is the ride over, the easy quiet of it, the way he sat with his arm resting in the open window and didn't fill the silence with anything.
you remember thinking that the innocent spark was gone. not cruelly. just gone, grown over with something else, something quieter and more knowing and entirely more dangerous.
you remember the door closing behind you and him turning around in your apartment, taking in the space with that same unhurried attention he gave everything, and then looking at you.
"so," you started.
"you used to put your hand on my head," he said.
just like that. no preamble. and you felt heat crawl up your neck.
"bunny…"
"to show how much shorter i was." he stepped toward you, easy and slow, like he had all the time in the world, because he did, because he always did. "you thought it was funny."
"it was, like… playful. i wasn't trying to be mean."
"i know," he said. he was so close now and you were doing something embarrassing with your breathing. "i know you weren't."
he lifted his hand and set it flat on top of your head.
the warmth of his palm. the gentle, deliberate pressure. the way he held it there for just a second, easy and certain, while you stood under it and felt the bottom drop out of your stomach.
"look at that," he said softly.
and without warning he kissed you.
it wasn't rough. not at all. it was slow and careful and somehow that was so much worse, the way his mouth moved against yours with that total patience, one big hand cradling the back of your head like you were something he'd been thinking about putting down for a very long time.
you made a small sound against him and he swallowed it without urgency.
"bunny," you managed, when he pulled back just enough, "you're…"
"i know," he said quietly.
he walked you back until your knees hit the bed and when you sat down the height difference hit you all over again. he was still standing and you were looking up at him. something about that made heat pool directly between your legs, embarrassingly fast.
he took his cap off, set it aside. looked down at you with those soft red eyes.
"can i?" he asked.
"yeah," you breathed. "yeah, obviously. come here."
he was so careful undressing you that it almost made things worse. hands finding buttons, fabric, his fingers warm and unhurried, like he was studying each new thing. when he got your shirt off he looked at you for a moment without touching, just looking, with an expression you couldn't fully parse. not hunger exactly. something deeper than that. something that had been waiting.
"you're staring," you said.
"i know," he agreed, like it wasn't an accusation.
his hands moved to your hips and he laid you back, settled over you and then you understood it properly. the size of him. the way he blocked out the ceiling. he held himself up on one forearm. his free hand moved down between you, fingers pressing through the fabric of your underwear.
"oh," you breathed.
"yeah?" he said softly.
"yes, yeah, bunny, god…"
he pressed harder, slow circles, watching your face the whole time with that gentle focused attention, like you were interesting to him, like your reactions were something he was cataloguing. you squirmed under his hand and he let you, patient and unhurried while you got wet and desperate against his fingers.
"please," you finally said.
"please what?"
"you know what."
his mouth curved into that soft, quiet smile. "i want to hear you say it."
you exhaled. "please, bunny. please, i want you to…"
he moved your underwear aside and slid two fingers into you, steady and certain, your back arching off the bed.
"fuck," you choked out.
"there you go," he said, like you'd done something right.
he worked you open slowly, curling his fingers in a way that made your thighs shake, mouth dropping to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, pressing soft careful kisses while you fell apart on his hand. no urgency. complete patience. the most infuriating patience you'd ever experienced.
"bunny i swear to god if you don't…"
"if i don't what?" another curl of his fingers. you made a sound that embarrassed you.
"please," you said again. "please, i need you, please."
"as you wish," he said simply.
he took his time with that too. lining himself up, pressing forward slowly. you felt every inch of it, the stretch of him filling you open and the low broken sound that came out of your mouth you absolutely couldn't help. he was so big, not just tall, and the pressure of it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
"s'too… hah… a lot," you gasped out.
"you can take it," he said, low and quiet against your temple. not a command. a fact. stated with complete certainty. "you can take it."
he was right. god help you, he has to be right.
when he finally bottomed out he held still, letting you adjust, you could feel your pulse everywhere. your hands gripping his shoulders, his skin warm and solid under your fingers. he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, unhurried.
"okay?" he murmured.
"move," you managed. "please, move."
and so he did.
long slow rolls of his hips at first that pushed the air out of you each time, the pressure building steady and relentless. you found yourself arching up to meet him, chasing it. his breathing was controlled, measured, because of course it was, while yours was already ragged. the sounds of it, wet and rhythmic, filled the room and your face went hot with it, hotter still when he shifted his angle and found something that made your vision blur.
"there," you gasped out. "bunny, there, don't stop…"
"yeah," he said softly. "i've got you, princesa."
the pace built gradually, like everything he did, slow becoming something steadier, something that had weight to it, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly, the headboard meeting the wall in a dull rhythm. you were talking, you realised distantly, broken syllables that weren't quite words, yesyesyes and please and his name spilling out of you with no real control. he watched your face the whole time. those red eyes, soft and focused and patient. the scars on his face catching the low light.
"you're close," he said.
"yes," you managed. "bunny, yes, please…"
he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, pressing in slow circles while he kept that steady rolling pace and you completely lost the thread of yourself. the orgasm built in your legs first, tightened through your core and when it broke it broke hard. your thighs clamping around him, your voice cracking on his name, your whole body shuddering through it while he fucked you through every second of it without stopping.
when you came down you were shaking. he kept moving, slower now, easier, his breath finally uneven against your shoulder.
"i'm gonna…" he started.
"yeah," you breathed. "yeah."
he pressed deep when he came, held there, a low quiet exhale against your neck. everything still.
the room smelled like sex and warm skin. the sheets were a disaster. your thighs were still trembling faintly if you paid attention.
he was on his back beside you, that same unhurried stillness, one arm behind his head, red eyes on the ceiling. you lay there trying to remember how breathing worked as a normal automatic function.
the silence sat between you, not uncomfortable. just full.
"bunny," you said eventually, staring up at nothing.
"mm."
"i missed you."
a pause. he turned his head to look at you, and his expression was that same soft, unreadable thing, the thing you hadn't been able to name back then and still couldn't quite name now.
"i missed you too," he said.
then he reached over and set his hand flat on the top of your head. slow. deliberate. warm.
held it there.
and you felt it go all the way through you, the quiet weight of it, the patience in it, something that had been waiting years to mean exactly this, that gentle pressure that said i told you so without a single word, that said look at that, that said now you know, and underneath it all, something that sounded almost like mine and almost like finally and entirely like him.
18+ MDNI / NSFW, roommate au, masturbation (fem and m), voyeurism, pervert!ness, this is why you lock your door. 0.8k
Roommate!Alexis, who’s just a pervert. Your door was unlocked, and he could see your silhouette shifting in ways he had never seen before. Legs spread, hips tilted, your hand buried deep in your panties —your fingers moved in slow, practiced circles over your clit, teasing and pressing until soft, desperate moans spilled from your lips. Oh God, he thought, palming himself over his sweatpants. What a slut.
Roommate!Alexis loved the idea of sharing an apartment during college. He could’ve met people from all around the world, learned about new cultures, new languages, shared snacks and even late-night convos —but instead, he got you.
He got the girl who folded her laundry the same day it dried. Who did the dishes without being asked. Never flirted. Never looked at him the way he looked at you. You barely spoke unless it was about dinner or who was on cleaning duty. But that’s all he got.
Kaiser never wasted a chance to remind that you were the exact opposite of the roommate Ness had wished for. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger and she doesn’t even know your last name.”
And maybe it was true. You never gave Alexis a chance to get to know you —never joined his study sessions, always brushing him off with some made-up call. You treated him like the polite golden retriever roommate you couldn’t be bothered to pet. You didn’t just ignore him —you avoided him.
Roommate!Alexis, who’s so nice it felt unreal. The kind of guy who’d carry your groceries without asking. Who’d pick up the pens you left in the living room and place them neatly on your desk. You found it pathetic how his friends treated him. You hated how he was always around, always offering help, always looking for a way to please you. He’d be your slut if you asked —and that’s what repulsed you.
Roommate!Alexis never complained about you. Maybe once or twice, you left your school supplies in the living room and naturally, Ness would just bring them back to your room where they belonged. But tonight, standing just a few steps from your bedroom, the door slightly ajar, a sound stopped him dead in his tracks. A whimper. Then another. Wet, slurred, and breathless. “F-fuck,” you gasped, barely above a whisper.
Alexis froze, blood rushing to his cock in an instant. The sight was enough to short-circuit his brain. Your back arched, your hips subtly rolling against your fingers, one hand under your shirt, clearly pinching your nipple. You were soaked —he could hear it. The slick sound of your fingers working your clit filled the quiet hallway, mixing with your soft, choked moans. “Please,” you whispered to no one. “Just a little more..” you just needed something to release the tension from the week.
Roommate!Alexis gripped the edge of the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His cock throbbed painfully in his boxers, already leaking. He couldn’t look away —the way your fingers moved, how your breath stuttered every time you pressed a little harder, how your thighs trembled with each wave of pleasure building in your belly. He needed to take care of himself before you finished yourself off.
He groaned softly, just for himself, and slid a hand into his pants. No time to hesitate. His palm wrapped tight around his shaft, stroking with urgency, his thumb swiping over the head, spreading precum. His mind drowned in the image of you riding him —tits bouncing, mouth open in a helpless moan, your tight cunt wrapped around him.
Inside your room, you let out another whine, hips stuttering. “F-fuck, right there— fuck, yes.. don’t stop..” You weren’t even trying to be quiet anymore.
Your other hand slipped down, two fingers now rubbing in fast, tight circles while your back arched deeper. “So fucking close,” you gasped, breath hitching as your hips bucked upward, chasing the friction. “Please, fuck, please..”
Roommate!Alexis was panting now, his thrusts into his hand matching your rhythm. His other hand pressed flat against the wall, knees buckling slightly. His whole body was shaking.
“Right there—ah, right fucking there!” your voice cracked, a moan escaping with so much desperation it made him curse under his breath.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” he muttered. His grip tightened, stroking faster, his breath ragged.
The second your thighs tensed, your body freezing mid-arch, Alexis knew. You came hard, crying out as your orgasm tore through you, fingers still rubbing as you rode the waves of release. That’s all it took.
“Shit—!” Alexis hissed, doubling over slightly as he came into his hand, the wet sound of his strokes mixing with your panting. His body shuddered, a mess of pleasure and shame.
He was a fucking disaster.
And he didn’t regret a single second of it. Perverted thing or not.
Hihi! I was just wondering if u could write like about ness having a fat crush on the reader but like kaiser got wit her just to be petty ykwim? And then like one day he decides to just break up with the reader bc yk he didn’t really like her so she goes to like ness for comfort bc shes like friends wit him but like ness just ends up confessin and like then they just end up fucking😭😭
HIS TO LOSE, MINE TO LOVE ×𑁤
FEATURING ᯓ★ Alexis Ness x Female! Reader
SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ Ness longs for you, craves you, wants you… but he stays quiet, even it it hurts him… Even if he knows that Kaiser is the one who stole you from him…
CONTENT ᯓ★ +18 (MDNI) Modern AU, Michael kaiser x reader, established relationship, jealous! Ness, friends to lovers, love triangle, unrequited love, betrayal, angst with happy ending, emotional manipulation, YES I made Kaiser the villain in this once again, dom! Kaiser, soft dom! Ness, comfort sex, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral sex (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), multiple orgasms, marathon sex, overstimulation, mirror play, belly bulge, light choking, praise kink, dirty talk, petnames, dirty thoughts, doggy style/backshots, reverse cowgirl, missionary, sideways position, creampie
Wc ᯓ★ 7.5k
Hi hi! Ngl this is deffo something that Kaiser would do with his jealous ahhh smh. Decided to turn it into a oneshot since my mind was thinking of one scene after another lmao so enjoy! — 🐉 ⋆｡°·𓂃🖊
Ness can tell you the many times he felt betrayed in his life.
He can tell you the time when his family ridiculed him for believing in magic when he was a child. Or when his mother would constantly cook him herring pie, even after telling her numerous times how much he hated it.
Or the time he failed his maths and physics exam. (He knew he was never passing those exams but the betrayal itself was having to sit them)
He can definitely tell you the time he was chased by the neighbourhood dogs, which he thought were friendly.
But the one time he will never tell you he felt betrayed was when Kaiser, his best friend, started dating you.
“Y’know something?” Ness begins rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish smile already plastered on his face.
It's karaoke night, just like every Friday night and Ness and Kaiser sit in the booth as you and the rest of the friend group take turns singing songs that you claimed you would sing well but instead, you slur your words at every lyric displayed on the screen.
But Ness watches you intensely. The way your lips move, the soft giggles you slip out in between your bad vocals, your face going all warm from the seven shots of vodka you’ve had.
He’s always found you so intriguing, so adorable, so sexy–
“Spit it out already.” Kaiser snaps at him, crossing his inked arms over his lean chest.
Ness lets out a chuckle, already feeling warm from a couple of shots he’s taken himself. “I just… really need to tell her how I feel, you get me?”
Kaiser doesn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as they flick from Ness to you, who’s lazily leaning on your best friend’s shoulder. The brown pleated skirt that you decided to wear tonight keeps rising, causing one of your friends to playfully scold you whilst trying their best to pull it down.
“She’s so sweet, funny and down to earth. I just need to stop holding myself back and just tell her I want her… I want to be with her, Kaiser.”
Kaiser can see it now, that look of love that Ness has always had for you ever since you became friends with him. Ness’s magenta eyes are glued onto you nonstop, raking all over your body from the curve of your ass to your chest rising in that tight corset top of yours that causes his bulge to grow in size.
Kaiser’s hand finds its way to Ness’s shoulder, finally breaking his gaze from you. His head turns to Kaiser who’s smirking from ear to ear, feigning innocence as he says, “I think you’ve got a chance with her, for sure.”
And Ness believes him. Of course, he would. That's his best friend, and he knows how much you mean to him.
So then why is it when he goes to the bathroom for a quick piss break, he comes back to witness the one thing he would’ve never imagined?
The rest of your friends aren’t in the karaoke room anymore, they’ve either gone outside for a smoke break or gone home.
But as for you and Kaiser?
In the corner of the room, his hand holds up your chin, and his slick tongue slips past your lips which breaks gasps and moans out of you. Kaiser kisses you like he’s devouring you, claiming you.
Doing all the things that should’ve been Ness’s job.
And the worst part is that Ness should be looking away, closing the door and just acting like nothing happened.
But he doesn’t.
Not when Kaiser finally looks him in the eye, his lips still on yours. Your back is facing Ness so you have no idea that you’re being watched. But Kaiser’s eyes never flick away as he swallows your whimpers and moans.
And to add salt to the wound, he smirks against your lips, his hands travelling to the globe of your ass that's hidden under your short skirt.
“I bet you weren't expecting me to confess to you, huh?” Kaiser mutters out, his clothed bulge now hitting your stomach.
“It was definitely unexpected,” you whisper, feeling your flush being pulled closer by him. “I just… never knew you always felt that way about me.”
“You’re so cute, liebling. It's always been you, so just remember that.”
It's always been you? Bullshit.
Ness grits his teeth so hard that they could crack at any given moment. His nails dig into his palms, so much so that they’ll leave marks that will have people questioning.
He doesn’t know what’s worse. The fact that Kaiser just continues to stare back into his eyes as his hands roam all over your body or the fact that he now just simply shuts the door.
Pretending that he didn’t just witness his best friend kiss the girl he’s wanted all along.
He can feel the tears that try to blind his sight but he’s quick to wipe them away.
It's fine, it's clearly meant to be.
Is what he forces himself to believe. But he knows damn well it’s not fine. Especially now that he has to watch both of you go from being friends to now dating.
Whether it’s at a restaurant, the arcades or at the shopping mall, Kaiser’s arm always finds its way around your waist whenever you’re with the rest of the friend group. You’re practically always glued to his side, allowing him to litter kisses from your forehead to your plump lips.
And when Kaiser knows Ness is staring, he’ll slyly whisper either sweet nothings in your ear or tell you how much he wants to leave early so he can fuck your brains out.
You look content when you’re with him.
But Ness shouldn’t be staring. He knows that. But it’s like he can’t stop himself.
You seem to sense it, too. In the middle of an arcade game, your head slowly turns, searching the room before your eyes land right on him.
“Hey,” your brows furrow a little. “Are you okay? You’ve been… quiet.”
Ness flinches instantly, not realising how intense his stare had gotten until Kaiser’s arm tightens around your waist, his thumb pressing against the bare skin just above your waistband.
And to make matters worse, his lips slowly curve into a smirk as he looks him dead in the eye.
If there were no such thing as consequences and if Ness’s loyalty to Kaiser was never a thing, he would’ve made that smirk disappear in seconds.
“Yeah.” Ness forces a smile that feels like it might snap his jaw in half. “I’m good. Just tired, I guess.”
Good was an understatement. He’s miserable as fuck.
You blink at him for a moment longer, as if you’re not quite convinced. And as always, right in front of Ness, Kaiser leans in to kiss your temple.
Whatever tension was in the air fizzles out in the fit of your flustered giggles.
One of the worst parts of Ness sharing an apartment with Kaiser now was hearing your voice channel out through the walls.
It starts with small things.
Your laugh from Kaiser’s bedroom. The rough and sped-up suction noises when Kaiser's lips press against yours. The sound of the shower running after you’ve both gotten home late.
Then it's the moans.
You and Kaiser have fucked more times than he can count.
Every day and night, you try your best to be mindful that Ness is quite literally next door. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to the point that you’ll bruise it, you try to shut away the whimpers and moans all while Kaiser ploughs into your sticky folds.
“Won’t you look at that…” Kaiser freezes his intense pounding, watching the recoil of your ass slap grinding against his pelvis. “You like how I’m stretchin’ you out? I knoow you do.”
You chant Kaiser’s name repeatedly like a damn prayer that makes Ness nearly throw up. It should’ve been him. It should be his name that you’re crying out loud. You should be begging for him to choke you till you can't breathe, not Kaiser.
He tries turning up the volume on his mounted TV. Doesn’t work.
He tries headphones. Still hears Kaiser’s grunts and curses in German all while the headboard continuously pounds against the wall.
Sleeping on the sofa in the living room?
“Mmm–! Miyha, Miyha–!”
That's your third orgasm of the night.
And God, did he despise the way his nickname spills from your lips.
Eventually, he realises that no matter what he does, he can’t escape it. It got to the point where he finally decided to just endure it.
In his way of course.
And he knows that it’s wrong yet it’s your fault.
Your gentle whimpers and choked moans travelling through the shitty thin walls is the reason why he finds himself palming himself every night. His eyes fluttering shut isn't so he can get a good night's sleep but rather imagining your cunt swallowing his cock inch by inch.
He tries his best to block out the voices from his fake friend and focuses on yours. Your strangled noises. Your shattered breaths that run out of your lips. That's what gets him going, pumping up and down his length until you squirt.
And every time you finally let go, releasing a guttural wail that has your poor body trembling, he too finally lets go. Creamy spurts of his cum hit his lean build, causing him to accidentally curse out loud. But like always, he bites down on the inside of his cheek so neither you nor Kaiser can suspect a thing.
He’s content with doing this. Or so that's what he’s forcing himself to believe.
But the longer he goes on with the same routine, the more he strains his hand. It doesn’t hit the same. It doesn’t feel the same. Why is Kaiser the one making you feel this good and not him? Why is he the one who gets to hold you whilst making you laugh uncontrollably and not him?
His resentment towards Kaiser grows like someone being suffocated until they can no longer breathe. His longing for you consumes him that tears him inside. He can’t escape the never-ending cycle when he lives under the same roof as both of you.
The skin slapping, your constant moaning, Kaiser’s groans. He’s finally at his breaking point so he chooses the one thing he hasn’t done in years.
Leave.
He decides to visit his family. The same family he’s been distant from for too long. He’s dreading having to see them but if it means that he will finally be at peace.
Then so be it.
Ness doesn’t waste any time when the sun finally rises. He throws open his closet and starts packing. Just like him and his conflicting mind, his room is a mess. Clothes tossed across the bed, a duffel bag half-zipped on the floor.
He’s folding a shirt when he hears footsteps in the hallway. Your voice follows soon after.
You pause by his open door, peeking inside with a slight tilt of your head. “Good morning, you okay there?”
Ness’s heart stutters. You’re alone. Or at least, he thinks you are. Kaiser must still be in bed or maybe in the shower. Once again, you’re wearing one of Kaiser’s oversized shirts, your hair tousled and slightly damp like you’ve just come from a shower.
There’s a moment of quiet between you, the kind that stretches too long.
So he breaks the silence, his lips tugging in a smile yet keeps twitching to revert into a frown. “Morning to you too and yeah… I’m just heading home to visit family. Been awhile since I've seen them, y’know?”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know…”
You’re analysing his face too hard. As always, his smile is so warm but you can’t tell if it’s forced or genuine. You’ve known him longer than Kaiser so you should know if there’s more than he’s letting on.
He may not look it but he sounds broken.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? What for?”
“For not spending much time with you,” your gaze scans the ground, a hint of guilt lacing in your voice. “I’ve been wanting to come check up on you but Miyha told me not to bother since you’re busy doing other things.”
Oh? So not only has Kaiser stolen you from him but he’s also lied in order to separate you from him?
Ness could crash out right about now.
But you’re not finished, you continue before Ness can even utter a word. “Are you sure everything’s okay? It's just that you’ve been keeping to yourself in your room and… you can talk to me, Ness.”
The way you speak to him could almost put him in a trance. It’s too calm. Too soft. Too comforting.
That angelic voice of yours is just urging him to tell you the truth. That he’s leaving because he can’t stand this anymore. You’re always here with him, doing all the things that he can’t get to do with you.
Kaiser of all people doesn’t deserve someone as thoughtful and genuine as you.
But before he can finally get to say his bottled-up feelings, there’s a low chuckle behind you.
Kaiser appears in the hallway, bare-chested as usual, a lazy smirk on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. He pauses, one brow raised at the sight of Ness’s half-packed duffle bag.
“Now where’re you off to?”
Ness feels his throat dry out. “Just visiting family.”
Kaiser blinks once, then pushes off the frame, stretching his arms above his head, abs flexing with the movement. “Sag deiner Familie Hallo von mir,” he mutters casually, as if things are cool between him and Ness.
Then he grabs your wrist.
You glance at Ness as you're being tugged back toward Kaiser’s room, one hand lifting in a gentle wave. Your eyes are soft, almost worried, almost questioning. But to Ness, it’s not enough. You disappear into the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind you.
You’ve gone away with Kaiser.
But further away from Ness.
He thought leaving would fix everything.
And for a while, it almost does.
He’s welcomed back like no time has passed. His mother still makes herring pie on Sundays, despite him reminding her for the hundredth time that he hates it. His father still questions him about whether he’s finally considering pursuing a career in science.
And yet, despite the judgment and passive aggressiveness, it’s easier to smile here. Easier to fake it. There’s no Kaiser in the next room, no soft moans slipping through the thin walls. There’s only the smell of the over-baked sachertorte that his mother attempted to bake, old textbooks gathering dust and his siblings babbling on about quantum theory.
Amid his quiet healing, his mother tells him, “If you ever decide to come back, you know the neighbours have a spare place to rent. You’d be close to us again, where it’s safe.
He considers it. For the first time in a long time, he really does.
Of course, you still manage to reach him.
Notification after another, your name pops up on his phone every few days
You
Hey! Hope you’re okay, just checking in
How’s your family?
Miss seeing you around…
You’ve messaged him a few times over the past two weeks vs Kaiser who hasn’t even said a word to him. Not that he cared but you? He hasn’t answered a single one.
Because if he does, everything he’s been building here, this false calm, this fragile peace will fall apart. So he ignores all of them. And still, sometimes, he stares at the screen longer than he should. Sometimes he types out entire paragraphs, only to delete them just as quickly. He misses your presence.
He misses the way it felt to be seen by you.
But he doesn’t act on it. Not until the call
He’s jogging through the neighbourhood, earbuds in, his shirt clings to his back from sweat, but he feels lighter than he has in weeks.
That is until his phone vibrates in his pocket.
Incoming Call: You
He almost doesn’t answer. He shouldn’t answer, he knows this. He’s come so far with starting to feel okay again.
But God, he misses your voice.
It’s not until the second ring, when something in his chest tugs sharply, that he picks up.
“Hello?”
And the voice that hits his ears doesn’t sound like you. Not the version he remembers, anyway.
“Ness…”
His jog slows to a walk, then a full stop. His brows pull together in confusion.
“Did you know?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
A shaky inhale from the other side of the line. “Please,” you beg. “Just be honest with me, Ness… you’re my best friend. I need to know. Did you know that he was planning to break up with me?”
Ness’s stomach drops.
His brows pull together, his breathing heavy from the run or maybe from the panic curling in his gut. “What?”
“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” you ask, voice cracking with every syllable. “Because you knew what was coming for me?”
Ness’s breath catches in his throat. “No— No. I swear to you, I didn’t know. I didn’t have a clue.”
“You’re not lying to me?”
“Why would I lie to you?” His voice trembles now, his chest burning for reasons that have nothing to do with the jog. “If I had known, I never would’ve let you go through that. I never–” He stops, swallowing hard. “I would’ve told you.”
A long, weighted silence.
Then, he hears what sounds like glass shattering into tiny fragments hitting the ground along with your voice straining with frustration. You’re trying not to let it show. But Ness hears it, he feels it.
His breath hitches as he glances around the empty street, then back at his phone. “H-Hey, listen to me. I’ll pack my things, I’m getting on the next train. Don’t let him get into your head anymore than he already has.”
“Please, just don’t do anything stupid.”
Stupid was an understatement.
By the time Ness makes it back to the apartment, he can feel something is wrong the second he pushes the door open.
His steps are careful, heading down the hallway where Kaiser’s bedroom door is flung wide open. His floor is littered with torn clothes, shattered glass, and overturned furniture. Drawers yanked open and a broken picture that’s out of frame.
But the state of his room shouldn’t be his main focus, not when he can hear a dull thud, something hitting the wall. He rushes to the living room and finds you there,mid-swing, clutching one of Kaiser’s prized trophies above your head like you’re about to hurl it straight into the wall again.
“Hey–hey!” Ness is on you in seconds. “Stop that! I live here too y'know?!"
Before you could swing, his arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand locking gently but firmly around your wrist, the other around your waist to hold you in place. The trophy clattered to the floor with a dull metallic thud.
You fought against him for a second, like your body didn’t register who it was. You’re shaking. Your mascara is smeared, your cheeks are stained with tears, and your breathing is all over the place.
“Let me go,” you whispered, voice raw and broken.
“No,” his voice is gentle yet firm. “I’m not letting you hurt yourself over him.”
You twist again, trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. “I fucking hate him,” you spit out, and it’s the kind of hate that comes from love that got twisted. Ness’s heart clenches.
Slowly, he turns you to face him, keeping your wrist lightly in his grip just in case. Your eyes are red, lashes damp, lips swollen. His heart shatters all over again. He’s trying to compose himself, be the bigger person in this situation because right now he’s tempted to find Kaiser.
“Talk to me,” he urges, voice barely above a whisper. “Use your words. Tell me what happened.”
You stare at him then, really stare, like seeing him for the first time. The memory hits you.
The unravelling started once Ness left.
There were no more whispered praises in the morning. No more touches that lingered. No more teasing comments that had you playfully scolding him. He barely looked at you. Barely touched you. Conversations were shorter.
He didn’t make love to you anymore, he just ignored you completely like you didn’t exist to him.
Yet, you tried. God, you tried.
You’d ask him what was wrong. Asked if you did something. Even went as far as to offer him space, even if that space broke your heart.
But nothing worked.
And then today, you woke up in bed except… he wasn’t lying there, snoozing by your side. Instead, pathetic messages are parts of him that he left for you.
Miyha
Going away for a couple of days, not that it’s any of your concern anymore 🤣
Don’t overthink it. We had fun, but it’s time we both moved on
We can still be friends tho. Just don’t make it awkward in the friend group, ‘kay?
Make sure to move out your things and just leave the spare key under the front door mat
And if that wasn’t worse enough, a knife twisted in your ribs when you get an automatic notification from his Instagram story.
The video is clear as day. A day party. Some half-naked girl grinding on him in a bikini, his hand gripping her waist, his mouth brushing against her throat, laughing. Like none of it meant anything.
“He broke up with me over text,” you whispered, voice cracking.
He gently pulls you into his chest, and you don’t fight him this time. Your fingers clutch the fabric of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. You bury your face in his shoulder, and for the first time all day, you let yourself fully break.
Ness didn’t need any further details. This whole relationship was a facade all along and he knew that.
His arms engulf you, not wanting you to get away more than you already have. It’s completely silent but some silences don’t need to be filled.
That is until your head lifts slightly from his chest, eyes glassy and swollen, but softer now.
“Why didn’t you answer my messages?”
Ness hesitates. Not because he’s surprised but because you ask it so gently. He exhales slowly, thumb brushing against your wrist.
“Because every time I saw your name on my screen, it reminded me of all the things I couldn’t have.”
Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. His eyes don’t leave yours.
“I was trying to move on,” he admits. “I thought if I put some distance between us… It might help.”
You blink at him. “Help what?”
“Help me stop feeling like this.”
His eyes search yours, not for permission, but for understanding. He’s not sure if you've seen it yet. The weight of what he’s been carrying. The truth written across his face, too loud to ignore now.
“What is ‘this’?”
“You don’t get it. It wasn’t even meant to be him making you laugh, holding you, being by your side… it was meant to be me, [y/n].”
The words leave his mouth before he can second-guess them. He watches you closely, ready for you to pull away, to say it’s too much. That’s what he’s used to by now, being pushed away. But you don’t.
You just… look at him. Like everything finally makes sense.
Ness’s voice softens. “I don’t care if you’re not in love with me. I know you’re hurting and confused, and none of this is simple.”
“Ness…”
“Use. Me,” he lets out a soft, humourless laugh. “He took the one thing I ever wanted and treated it like a fucking game. You clearly need a distraction so, please… just use me.”
There’s a moment of silence, using this time to try and gather your thoughts but it’s not working. However Ness’s thoughts are clearer than yours, he knows what he wants. He’s throwing away his loyalty for Kaiser rather than pushing it aside.
Then Ness’s hand comes up, thumb brushing the side of your cheek, wiping away a tear that hadn’t even fallen yet. You weren’t processing how his magenta eyes drops to your lips. And you certainly don’t stop him when he leans in.
His lips are soft, tentative, like he’s terrified of pushing too far. But it deepens quickly, months of buried tension finally resurfacing. Your hands curl into his hoodie, pulling him closer, and his arms wrap around you like instinct, like they were always meant to.
There’s nothing rushed. Nothing careless.
When he pulls away, breath shallow, your foreheads touch. You can feel his hands tremble slightly against your hips.
“I just don’t want to see you cry over someone who never deserved you,” he whispers.
Your fingers curl into the back of his hoodie again, but this time it’s not out of despair. It’s grounding. It’s real.
He lifts you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your arms go around his shoulders, nose tucked into his neck as he carries you down the hall without another word.
Not to Kaiser’s room.
To where you were meant to belong from the beginning.
His room is a mess like everything else, left in the same condition from when he first left. He sets you down gently on the edge of his bed, fingers brushing your thighs as he looks at you, eyes searching.
He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, like you’re something holy, something delicate, something he’s been craving in silence.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, thumbing your bottom lip. “I can’t believe he ever made you feel like you weren’t enough.”
You try to look away, but he catches your chin and gently tilts your face toward him.
“Don’t hide from me.”
Clothes fall away between kisses. His pants kicked off, your shirt tossed somewhere across the room. His fingers hook into your panties and drag them down your thighs, slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring the sight.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, guiding you down to the mattress. His own hoodie and shirt are long gone, his sleeper build body casting soft shadows under the warm lighting.
You crawl over to him, already breathless from the look in his eyes alone. He settles back against the headboard, knees bent slightly. His cock rests hard and heavy against his stomach, already flushed and leaking, and your mouth waters at the sight.
Before he can say anything, your lips are already on his pulsing tip.
He watches with wide eyes, mouth slightly parted as you wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking him slowly. When your lips part and you take him into your mouth, Ness’s head tips back, a low groan escaping his chest.
“S-Shit! Baby…” His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, gently guiding your rhythm. “You don’t have to… fuck–!” He chokes when you suck harder, tongue dragging along the underside.
“Just like that,” he breathes, his fingers threading into your hair gently. “You look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
The praise hits deeper than you expect and he takes note of that. It’s most likely that Kaiser never praised you like this and it’s what you’ve yearned for so long. You hum around him, the vibration making his hips twitch.
He tries not to push, but his grip tightens ever so slightly as you begin to take him deeper. Your tongue swirls, lips wrapping around him tight, slow strokes building rhythm.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans, eyes half-lidded. “So good for me.”
As your mouth works over his cock, Ness slides one hand between your legs, fingers slipping between your folds, finding you soaked and needy. He moans at the feeling, eyes darkening with hunger.
“You’re drippin’ for me already?” he mutters, teasing your clit in slow circles. “Did suckin’ me off get you this wet, baby?”
You whimper around him, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks two fingers inside you, curling upward just right. He keeps thrusting them in time with your bobbing, his wrist moving in smooth, deliberate strokes while his thumb never stops circling your clit.
It’s overwhelming, the pleasure hitting you from both ends, his cock filling your mouth while his fingers drive you closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs shake, your hips grinding down into his hand desperately.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice strained. “Come for me like this. Want to feel you fall apart on my fingers.”
Your moan is muffled around him as your climax finally hits you, thighs trembling, juices dripping down his wrist as he pulls his fingers free and gently cups your cheek.
“C’mon, taste yourself, schatz.” He smears your arousal all around your mouth, lifting you to peck your lips, tongue swirling all around as he also tastes himself on your tongue.
His eyes flick to the mirror across from his bed, and he pulls you into his lap, flipping you around until your back is to his chest.
“Ness–”
“Alexis,” he corrects you, his voice sharp for once which shocks you but only for a brief moment.
“And shh, trust me,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as he positions you on your knees, straddling him in reverse cowgirl.
“I want you to see how beautiful you look like this.”
You meet your gaze in the mirror, exposing your glistening cunt, lips swollen, tits rising and falling while his hands grip your hips from behind.
You’re taking your time to sink onto him and when you do, both of you gasp.
“F-Fuck… you feel perfect,” Ness groans, his head tipping forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “So tight… s-stay just like that.”
He doesn’t move at first. He stays still, buried to the hilt, letting you feel how full he makes you. His hands grip your thighs, then slide up your waist to your chest, kneading your hardened buds gently as he starts to guide your movements.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on the mirror. “Look at yourself. Look how pretty you are ridin’me.”
You rock your hips, whining as he fills you so deep it almost hurts. But Ness is there, grounding you with soft praises between every thrust.
“Doing so good for me.”
“You’re fucking perfect.”
“No one’s ever gonna touch you like this again. No one.”
His hand slides down to your clit, rubbing you in slow circles while you bounce in his lap, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing with every movement. Every roll of your hips, every bounce, every moan, you’re forced to see yourself come undone with him in the mirror.
Your orgasm builds fast.
“G-Gonna cum–fuck, Alexis, Alexis–!”
“I know, I know” his babbles become muffled, kissing your spine, thrusts getting deeper, slower. “Let go for me, schatz.”
His fingers dig deep into the fat of your hips, causing your body to tremble against him, squirting uncontrollably. Your walls spasming around him so tightly that it drags a loud, helpless groan from his throat.
“God–fuuck,” he curses, losing rhythm as he chases his own release. He drives up into you harder now, fucking you through your high until he finally spills into your gummy walls with a raspy gasp against your skin.
Both of you breathe hard, chests rising and falling in sync as the stress bleeds out.
You don’t move right away. You just stay there in his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist again as he kisses your shoulder softly, over and over like he can’t quite believe you’re real.
He’s finally got you in his hold and it’s not possessive like Kaiser.
He’s nowhere near like him.
Your now glistening body settles against him, Ness now leaning away until his back muscles brush against the mattress. He should probably give you a break. But his dick says otherwise. He’s still hard, still needy for you, still craving for you.
And the look in your eyes when you glance over your shoulder tells him you’re not done either. His cock is still twitching inside of you, his restraint hanging by a thread.
So you lean forward, slowly rising off his lap and onto your hands and knees, ass in the air and back arched perfectly for him. The way you look over your shoulder, your glossy lashes, lips slightly agape–
“Don’t look at me like that,” Ness mutters under his breath, pushing up to his knees, hovering behind you. “You look too fuckin’ good.”
You shudder beneath him as he presses his body fully against yours, cock already hard again between your thighs, twitching against your slick heat.
"Spread your legs for me," he murmurs, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, slow and heavy like he’s trying to memorise every inch. "Let me in."
Something about his voice makes it impossible to say no. So you do.
"Good girl," he breathes out. "That’s it."
His hand reaches down, dragging the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jolts slightly when he taps it against your entrance, then slowly pushes in, inch by inch, groaning as your body takes him again.
“Goddamn,” he breathes. “Still tight, I see. You were made for me, not that prick.”
He bottoms out, hips flush to your ass, and stays there for a moment. His hands stroke up your back, then down again, nails scratching lightly at your skin. He pulls back, as if he’s going to pull out just for him to slam back in.
Just a broken gasp from him, a sharp cry from you, and the sound of skin slapping as his hips snap forward with more force now.
“Look at this,” he groans, fixating on your slick pussy, swallowing him again and again as he plunges into you. “Look at how greedy she is.”
Your fingers claw at the sheets, mouth open in a silent moan as he finds a brutal rhythm. It’s rough but controlled, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you.
The room is filled with the squelching sounds of your fluttering folds, filthy slap your ass smacking against his thighs, your soft whines, his low growls. His rhythm builds, desperate and deep, not quite rough enough to hurt, but hard enough to make your thighs shake.
"Is this what you needed?" he pants, leaning over you, breathing hot on your ear. "Needed someone to really fuck you? To stop playin’ pretend? To take you seriously?”
"Y-Yes–shit, Mmph–!"
"You should’ve come to me first," he growls, snapping his hips harder, the bed creaking under his weight. "I would’ve let you in with open arms and made you feel like this every night.”
“Would’ve had you cumming on my dick instead of crying in someone else’s bed."
His words hit you harder than his thrusts, low and disgusting, full of frustration and want. His hands grip your hips so tightly you know there’ll be bruises in the morning. You love it.
"Hnngh! Oh my god—!"
"You feel that?" he groans, one hand sliding around to rub your clit in tight, ruthless circles. The other slides down to press down on your stomach, feeling the bulge press harshly into your plush skin. "You feel me, don’t you? How deep I’m in your hungry cunt?”
Every response you try to make translates to a broken or shattered whimper. So you frantically nod your head and that answer is more than enough for him. He finally lets go of your stomach. His hand tangles in your locks, pulling your head back gently, forcing you to arch even more for him and loll out your dripping tongue in between your lips.
This time you don’t give him a warning. He’s pulled you close to the edge, your legs giving out and your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, your body jerking beneath him, thighs shaking as your vision goes white.
You scream his name into the mattress, and Ness moans so deeply behind you that it almost sounds like he’s not too far behind. He pulls out just long enough to flip you over, hands under your knees, pushing your thighs back until they’re pressing into your sensitive tits.
He’s a mess now. His hair sticking to his forehead, magenta eyes blazing wild, teeth gritted as he fucks into you like he’s chasing salvation. Your nails dig into his arms, your body already overstimulated, and he loves it.
"Can’t stop," he pants. "I need to feel you break for me. God, just one more–"
His voice cracks as your walls flutter around him again. He grins through a groan, his voice low and nasty in your ear. “That’s it. Be good for me and cum again. Make it messy.”
You can’t think nor can you keep count with how many times you’ve cummed now. You just know that your walls can’t stop clamping down on his throbbing shaft, eyes completely sealed as strings of cum splurge out of your sopping hole.
“Fuck–fuck, you feel unreal,” he gasps, losing his rhythm for a second, forcing a strangled moan from his throat. “I told you you were made for this, made for me.”
He buries himself deep one last time, groaning your name through clenched teeth as he fills you to the brim, his cock pulsing inside.
His weight sinks over you as he collapses, his chest heaving against yours, body trembling from how hard it hit him. His lips find your shoulder, then your cheek, then your forehead, kissing every part of you like he’s trying to put the pieces back together.
You’re so overstimulated, so fucked out to the point that you’re at your limits. Your body practically moves on its own. With the bit of strength you still have in you, you turn to your side, causing Ness to flop beside you.
All you need is a breather, a couple of minutes even. But that isn’t enough for Ness.
He moves gently, his body presses up behind you, back to chest and you flinch with a weak gasp when you feel his cock, already hard again, brushing against the soft curve of your ass.
"Ness–" you whine, already breathless, “I-I can’t–”
“Shh, I know baby,” he murmurs, voice thick and low against the shell of your ear, “That’s why I’m goin’ like this…”
He lifts your thigh slowly, his palm guiding under the bend of your knee with care, and you feel him lining himself up behind you. You let out a soft whimper, not from pain, just from the overwhelming sensitivity, the ache that hasn’t even dulled yet.
Then he’s pushing in again but slowly, his breath stuttering beside your cheek as he gapes at his cock gliding between your folds and sinking into you inch by inch.
“Still fuckin’ warm inside.” He whispers against your skin.
He moves with such patience, hips rocking at a pace so slow you almost can’t tell where you end and he begins. His hand presses to your belly, pulling you back against him while the other glides up your body, curling around your throat gently but firmly, just enough to make your breathing hitch.
And he keeps that pace, his hips rolling in slow, calculated thrusts. You can feel everything. The way he drags against your walls. The way he groans each time you squeeze around him.
“ Let me make you feel good again, yeah?”
You nod, or try to, lost in the haze of overstimulation and tenderness. Your body twitches again in his hold, the stretch slow aching, and you wail, not sure whether it’s from exhaustion, emotion, or pure desire.
He kisses beneath your ear, slow and tender, and then nips lightly at your skin. His breath fans over you as he leans in closer, voice quiet like there’s others around that he doesn’t want to hear.
“Move in with me.”
At a time like this, your brain shouldn’t be short-circuiting. His words are so sudden, trying your best to process his words but it’s hard when he continues with the same motion. Dragging his length at an excruciating measured pace before digging back in.
You blink, your voice hoarse. “What…?”
“I said,” he murmurs, his hips still slow, his voice achingly gentle, “move in with me.”
You glance back at him with wide eyes. “I… I can’t live here. Not after everything. Kaiser–”
“No,” Ness murmurs, kissing the side of your face to soothe your nerves, “not here. Not with him.”
He shifts his angle slightly and thrusts just a little deeper, making you gasp.
“Move in with me,” he repeats, more certain this time. “There’s a place. The one my parents told me about. It’s quiet. Close enough to the city, but far enough to feel like ours.”
He thrusts again, slow but firmer now, and your toes curl.
“You’d be safe with me. Comfortable in your own skin. No more feeling like a second choice.”
His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly, making your eyes flutter.
“I’d take real good care of you,” he murmurs, voice dipping into a filthier register. “Wouldn’t you like that, hm? Let me come home to you. Let me wake up next to you every morning with you still sore from the night before.”
Your answer gets caught in your throat, but your body gives him one. Arching back into him, hips rolling weakly, craving more. It only makes him grin.
He starts to move faster now, hips snapping forward with more force, but still with intention. He’s still in control, still watching your reactions, still listening to every whimper and stutter of your breath. His cock drags along every sensitive spot inside you, relentless and deep.
“You’d look so pretty in my bed,” he groans, mouth hot against your neck. “Nothing on but one of my shirts. Legs spread just like this. Fuckin’ yourself on my cock the second I get home.”
His hand reaches for your throat, not hard, just enough to tilt your chin and claim your breath for his own.
"You’d let me fuck you on the kitchen counter, wouldn’t you?” The squeeze on your neck increases but never enough to cut off your circulation. “Against the wall? In the shower before work? Yeaah, you would."
"A-Alexis–!"
His control slips, pace turning relentless, greedy. Every thrust now is deeper, harder, more possessive, making your eyes roll back.
"You want that?" he huffs. "Want to be mine? Let me love you properly?"
You can’t even speak so you just nod frantically, broken little cries spilling from your lips as your body tightens around him.
"Say it," he demands softly, his pace getting sloppier now. “Say you’ll be mine.”
"I’m yours," you breathe. " I’m yours, I-I’m yours—!"
That’s all it takes.
You fall apart in his arms again. You’re crying out his name like a prayer, and Ness follows close behind, his grip on your throat tightening just enough as he buries himself deep inside you and cums hard, spilling deep within you with a ragged groan.
He doesn’t pull out. He just holds you, still sheathed inside you, his face buried in your shoulder, sweat-slick skin pressed against yours.
Eventually, Ness shifts, slipping out of you carefully before pulling you against his chest. You let him guide you, curling into him like a second skin. Your cheek rests against his bare chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
His seed stays trapped in your cunt, mixing with your slick juices. You feel so full that your stomach protrudes with its throbbing head digging into your skin. You’re both breathing hard, legs tangled, skin still hot.
He brushes your hair back, planting a kiss on your temple. "We need to leave," he says softly.
You sigh. "I know. Just… can we stay like this for a while?”
There’s a soft chuckle that vibrates in his chest, eyelids failing to keep open.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, “as long as you want.”
So you both lay there, tangled limbs above the sheets and breathing back to its original state. Ness knows that someone is going to lose their mind when they finally arrive back home.
And boy, was he right. A couple of days went by and as expected his phone’s blowing up with multiple messages from Kaiser until finally he rings his phone.
“Care to explain to me why my fucking room has been turned upside down?”
“I know you let that bat-shit crazy girl tear it the fuck up. When I–“
characters - rin , sae , kaiser , ness , nagi , reo. ( incubus bllk boys x female reader) | pt II here! | pt III here!
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｡𖦹°‧ RIN ITOSHI
you never stood a chance.
because rin doesn’t fuck out of need, he fucks out of control.
and now that he’s tasted you, he doesn’t want to share.
doesn’t want to leave.
doesn’t want to stop.
he appears in your dreams like a shadow in the corner of your room, tall and still and watching, teal eyes faintly glowing, mouth twisted in his usual scowl.
you beg him not to do it again, not to use you like that, not to turn you into some dazed little doll who wakes up sore and shaking.
he doesn’t listen.
“ shut up,” he mutters, spreading your legs open as your eyes flutter. “ you’re the one dreaming about me.”
he eats your pussy like he’s starving. fingers gripping your thighs open, tongue dragging long and deep, until you cum all over his face and he still doesn’t stop.
he fucks you slow, but hard. rough thrusts that make your headboard hit the wall.
and when you cry, he just licks the tears from your cheek.
he never says it.
but the way he marks you, fills you, stays in your dreams night after night.
you know he’s obsessed.
and he hates himself for it.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ SAE ITOSHI
sae doesn’t visit your dreams.
he summons you to his domain, dark marble floors, black firelight, velvet-draped throne and all — and expects you to kneel like the little plaything you are.
“ what a mess you’ve become,” he hums, fingers curling under your chin. “ all this just for me?”
he has that deadpan calm, even when he’s fucking you, like you’re a new luxury item he’s toying with, not a person. he watches you break beneath him like it’s routine.
his thrusts are slow, deep, and humiliating, never giving you enough, never letting you control anything.
he makes you say please.
makes you thank him.
makes you beg to be filled.
and when you cum too fast, too loud, too desperate, he only raises an eyebrow.
“pathetic,” he murmurs, but his voice is low with approval.
“ i guess you were made for this after all.”
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ MICHAEL KAISER
you feel him before you see him, his presence like static electricity on your skin.
then he appears, always with that confident grin, shirt half-unbuttoned, wings spread wide.
“ guess who’s back, baby.”
kaiser lives to ruin you.
he wants you crying, shaking, clawing at his back.
he wants to hear every breathless moan, every broken scream, every “ please, more, kaiser—” like it’s a song written just for him.
“ look at that face,” he coos, stuffing two fingers into your mouth while he fucks you from behind.
“ that’s the face of a girl who’s addicted.”
his incubus form is flashy and powerful, glowing tattoos across his chest, gold-dusted skin, aura humming with pleasure and pride.
he takes you on his throne, in the air, against the walls.
“ you’re mine,” he growls in your ear after filling you up, “ but don’t worry, sweetheart. i take care of my toys.” *i kinda cringe here..anywayss*
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｡𖦹°‧ ALEXIS NESS
ness is soft-spoken, sweet, and pretty, with glittering pink horns and a voice like honey.
he asks before touching. strokes your hair. kisses you like you’re a porcelain doll.
but the moment you moan for him? he changes.
his mouth turns filthy. his claws come out. his tail curls around your ankle to keep you in place.
“ you’re so easy to ruin,” he breathes, watching your cunt stretch around his cock.
“ so soft, so helpless.”
ness loves overstimulating you. he’ll eat you out until your thighs are shaking, then shove his cock inside and fuck you slow just to watch you sob. he kisses your tears, calls you his good little human girl, and makes you say “ please” every time.
when he cums inside you, he moans like he’s the one losing his mind.
and he always stays just long enough to clean you up… with his tongue.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ NAGI SEISHIRO
he doesn’t hunt.
he waits.
nagi’s the one who shows up when you’re bored, horny, touching yourself with your hand between your legs like it’s nothing.
and suddenly he’s there, yawning, stretching his arms, brushing silver hair out of his eyes.
“ need help?” he mumbles, before you even realize what’s happening.
his cock is massive. thick. heavy. and he’s so lazy with it, just drapes you across the bed, pushes himself into you inch by inch while groaning in your ear like you’re the one tiring him out.
but he never stops.
not even when your body’s gone limp. not even when you’ve cum four times and you’re shaking.
“ feels good… ‘m not done yet,” he’ll just mutter, and keep rutting into you slow and deep until you’re half-conscious, drool dripping from your lips.
“ you feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. “ can i cum inside again? ‘m too lazy to pull out.”
nagi doesn’t fuck you like a demon.
nagi fucks like he barely cares, but somehow, that makes it worse.
he uses your body like it’s a toy. tosses you on his lap, makes you ride him while he scrolls his phone. tells you not to stop even when your legs give out.
he moans like you’re his personal massage chair.
———————————————————————
｡𖦹°‧ REO MIIKAGE
reo has everything.
gold. power. worship.
but what he really wants? you, whimpering underneath him, trembling around his cock, looking up at him like he’s your entire world.
“ no one else gets to see this side of you,” he murmurs, voice dark and greedy as he presses kisses to your stomach.
“ you’re mine now, okay?”
reo’s incubus form is gorgeous, jeweled horns, sleek claws, even his wings shimmer like polished obsidian.
he doesn’t fuck you. he spoils you with sex.
he fingers you slowly in silk sheets while murmuring “good girl” into your neck, makes you cum until your body’s twitching before he even pulls his cock out.
then he ruins you, hips slamming into you fast and hard until you’re crying his name into the pillow.
he praises you like it’s worship.
but he owns you like a devil.
“ cum for me, baby,” he purrs, breath hot against your ear. “show me who your body belongs to.”
Omg hi my #favorite can i request a prequel to the julian loki fic thats during the nel and you flirt and gently touch and sleep together and stare and giggle at eachother during matches totally not gayly for three months straight; lokis god complex thing is rlly interesting dont forget about that too much, u can ignore this if youd like, but i feel like he’d on one hand think he’s above romantic feelings toward someone, but on the other hand he’s somehow super in love and now they’re both in denial ok bye sorry for burdening you with my endless drivel ϵ( 'Θ' )϶
Nooo you’re not burdening me at all I’m just on a very unusual schedule lolol I do like writing the thoughts of someone in love but in denial, though I’m not too sure about this one’s quality… also heh am I really ur favorite
☆╭(Stars Out of Reach.)╮─── 1.0k.
Julien Loki x M!Reader.
Part one.
You never really saw Loki during matches. He always sped off too fast for you to catch him.
The first time you could really face him eye-to-eye during a game was when you'd delivered a sharp pass to Rin instead of Loki. He'd been open, wide and clear, but you made direct eye contact and chose to look the other way. He didn't say anything, but he was just a tad bit offended.
Despite not seeing each other professionally, you two were never far from each other off the pitch. Every corner you took had Loki’s footsteps right behind it. You two would chatter about nonsense, your polite, curt response getting a snicker or a condescending look as he tried to decipher your words.
Every night ended with you in his master striker office, cuddling as he finished his work.
“You should head back to the rooms,” he’d tell you every night.
“I can help you here,” you’d say without knowing what it truly meant.
The way you acted irritated him at times. You acted like you had any place to advise him about certain player data, to stick to his side as soon as matches ended like a moth drawn to a flame, to whisper in his ear so sweetly while giggling about something Charles told you earlier.
Every move you made left him confused— confused why you treated him the same way you did everyone else and why he hated that you did.
You should’ve been proud that he let you so close. You should’ve been prouder that you were just in the presence of him, but no. You talked to him like he was just another run-of-the-mill teammate that had no special qualities. You should’ve been revering him.
Worst of all? He didn’t even care.
It baffled him, how little effect it had that you were treating him so normally. He was anything but normal, above normal, but with you, he’s just… a mess.
Never would he show it. He wouldn’t dare slip up, especially not in front of you, but also not in front of the cameras. This man could not afford the price of loving someone human.
He could love habits. He could love routines, attention, and worship.
He loved the way you fell asleep in his office when it was late after a big match, a thin blanket covering you from the sterile air.
He loved the way you’d sneak glances at him during the tiny pauses in a game, trying to act like he wasn’t the one thing on your mind all day, every day.
He loved the way your touch was always so soft, so gentle like he’d dissipate if you gripped too tightly.
Loving Loki was bittersweet.
You would reach for him, only to see him pull away with a teasing smirk, inviting you to follow until it was secluded.
You would sneak into his private quarters, shuffling under the sheets until he laughed so heartily you fell for him all over again.
You would drift to sleep staring at his face, and wake up with the memory of his heated touch on your cold, empty skin.
This wasn’t right at all.
The uncomfortable swelling only grew as the weeks passed too quickly. Every lingering glance, every tiny smile, every shared thought was dangerous. This was a wrong path that dug underneath your veins every time you would lightly kiss his cheek, but you wobbled down it like you were drunk on love.
It wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t reassuring. Yet, it was addicting. It was substantial. It was beautiful.
“Loki,” you said. He hummed in response, seated in his swivel chair, updating player profiles. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
He paused. You finally popped the question, and he knew what it truly meant.
Was it okay? The short answer:
“No.”
Your heart sank. Of course he’d say that.
Still, Loki turned slowly, meeting your bashful, broken gaze. He’d stare for hours at that hopeful twinkle. Your eyes, so full of energy and desire, could leave him breathless.
“This isn’t okay,” he started again, beginning to crush your heart in his divine hands, before saying, “but it’s still here.”
You just blinked, before rising and striding to him.
Has he no spine? Of course it’s here. You’re here. It’s all you want, and you know it’s not okay, but how do you stop it? The wires in your brain fizzled just at the thought of him. If anything, this was his fault. He dared to throw you a cheeky grin, then act like it didn’t mean the world when you padded over like a dog. He’s too captivating to act like he’s above love.
You breathed deeply once you stood in front of him. The words that you wanted to confess were too much and too soon for both of you.
His hands simply reached up and guided you down to sit on the desktop, running his hands over your skin. Neither of you wanted to look away, in fear that the other might disappear.
The long answer:
I don’t have enough to give you everything. My heart is too far in between my ribs to give to you. I wish I could, but you know I won’t, but you’re okay with that, aren’t you? So don’t act so surprised or so hurt. This is the same kind of danger you’re falling in too. Where I stand, you meet. I don’t know how or why. I won’t ever know when or where this is going to be simply “okay.” I love your work. I love your habits, and I love your creativity. Just, please, let me reserve the last bits of love I have. It’s not something I can give without crumbling.
He won’t love you, but he’s here. You can’t love him, but you’re there.
So far out of reach, yet so tempting to fly up and brush the clouds. So hot to the touch, yet just as comforting as the spring sun. Just enjoy the moment.
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