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vennilavee · 26 days ago

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diet pepsi

written for @ficsforgaza!! the prompts were squirting + nagi seishiro from blue lock. wc is ~3k (sorry)

warnings: oc is kind of a stalker

A familiar username pops up in Nagi Seishiro’s periphery, showering him with bits once again. As far as he remembers, fairygrl777 has shown up in every single livestream he’s done since he started. He usually streams when he plays video games, or if he has a quick twenty minutes before practice.

But fairygrl777 always shows up, without fail. When he’s playing video games, he tries to answer as many questions as he can even if he’s on a timed side quest. All these strangers seem to be enthralled by watching him quietly play Overwatch or Final Fantasy, for some strange reason.

Fairygrl777 doesn’t just send bits, chats and cute emojis to him, but when Nagi is feeling particularly exasperated by the gameplay and complains about how annoying this particular mission is, they always talk him down. Or tell him what the next step in the game is. He supposes they’ve already beaten it.

Little does he know that fairygrl777 didn’t sleep for thirty-six hours in an attempt to finish this game for that exact reason.

Fairygrl777’s little fairy wings pop up on MapleStory as a mage, too, one of Nagi’s secret guilty pleasures. Sometimes he likes to do missions with her, his illium mage running alongside her ice and lightning arch mage.

It’s just footyboi7 and fairygrl777 spending time in the Secret Garden before standing in the Kerning Tower together.

Fairygrl777: <3 how romantic… it’s almost like we’re holding hands isnt it

Footyboi7: if u say so

Fairygrl777: :)

Fairygrl777’s icy blue hair and sword has become a comforting presence to him. It’s quite often that he finds himself trotting after you in the game, his bow tight in his character’s hand. The hours seem to fade away with her excited chatter in the chat as they both collect mesos and finish jobs together.

Sometimes he leaves abruptly, but fairygrl777 never says anything. Out of the two of them, she talks more than he does in the chat.

Nagi is curious what her voice sounds like- he bets she sounds ethereal, like the translucent wings on her back.

It must be a coincidence, how fairygrl777 is almost always online when he is. Or how she never seems to miss one of his rare livestreams.

Nagi shrugs. It’s just a sheer coincidence.

Nerves seize you the moment you exit the train and head for the platform, though you’d classify them more as excited butterflies than true nerves. It’s like you’ve been here before, even though you’ve never set foot on English soil in your life.

All you’re relying on is Nagi Seishiro’s vague retelling of the area.

It doesn’t take long for you to make your new apartment in Manchester your own. The apartment was already somewhat furnished, so all that’s left is to decorate it. Trinkets sit on top of your desk, matching the rugs adorning your floors.

You absently wonder if you asked Nagi in the chat to help you move furniture in, would he have helped you?

You sit on your bed after you unpack all your things and inhale deeply. This is your life now.

Before the anxiety of being alone in a brand new country can wash over you, you take in a deep, deep inhale of the crisp, autumn air from the open window. Leaves have already begun falling, shades of burgundy and marigold settling tenderly along the roadside.

It’s overcast in Manchester today, but you are in high, bright spirits.

The apartment you’re renting for an indefinite period of time isn’t too far from the Manshine City stadium- only a fifteen minute ride on the rail. You’ve nearly the path to the surrounding parks and already researched what restaurants and grocery stores you may frequent during your time in Manchester.

It’s meant to be a fresh start for you, after all. A new country, a new city. A new you, with new friends, new lovers. A fresh start from your old, doldrum routine you had been desperate to escape.

If you only had five minutes, you could show Nagi Seishiro how well you’d be together. You could mold yourself into the perfect partner for him. Who knows better than you what he needs?

You could be anything he wants, like a blank canvas waiting to be filled in. You want him to fill you in with broad brushstrokes and streaks of color.

The timing has to be perfect. You trust that it will happen, that he will notice you. You just have to be patient. You can’t be too much or too little. You have to be just right to pique his interest and keep him curious for more.

Perfect. You will be perfect when the universe opens the door for you.

“Don’t you recognize me, Seishiro-chan?” your voice is sickly sweet.

“No, am I supposed to?” Nagi tilts his head to the side and you giggle, the sound reminding him of a windchime.

“I’ve been to all of your games since I moved here and watched all of your streams,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with your own. Nagi’s eyebrows raise as he traces your face, trying to place where he knows you from.

“You’re not the first or the last girl to do all that,” he mutters, “What is it? Do you want a drink or something?”

“If you’re offering,” you shrug, “Just a diet pepsi for me.” He turns his back to you and leans against the bartop, waiting to get the bartender’s attention.

The bar is packed with Manshine City players, security and the lucky few fans who were able to get through the crowd and into the bar. Purple and blue lights bounce off of Nagi’s perfectly tousled locks in waves, making his eyes look softer than they actually are.

If you pretend hard enough, Nagi Seishiro could be your boyfriend. You could easily lean against him, feel him relax against your touch as the warmth of his hands wraps around your waist like gentle vines.

But instead, he stands a few inches away from you, his handsome face drawn forward and looking away from you. He taps on the bartop impatiently with his credit card, long fingers curled around the piece of plastic tightly.

Nagi huffs, turning to you with ire in his eyes.

“This is taking forever,” he complains.

“Maybe you should be a little more patient,” you reply, gesturing for him to give his order to the bartender. The bartender rolls his eyes at Nagi. He definitely heard his complaint. You get lost watching the planes of Nagi’s face, the curve of his nose and the depth of his eyes.

Your fingers brush against his accidentally. You hardly notice his fingers linger.

“Patience pays off, I guess,” you joke when he hands you a drink.

“I guess,” he echoes.

“Everything has its sacrifice,” you reply, looking him dead in the eyes. Recognition flashes across his face momentarily but it goes as quickly as it comes. Where has he heard that before? It sounds so familiar, but he can’t quite place it.

The intensity in your eyes lessens before you offer him another sugary, sweet smile. It’s mismatched on your face, like a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit. It would be unnerving if he didn’t think you were cute.

“Thanks for the drink, Seishiro-chan,” you chirp, “Cheers to new friends!”

“Friends? I’d hardly call us friends,” Nagi says sincerely.

“Maybe something more?” you tease.

“More? Like best friends?”

Nagi thinks of Reo briefly, catching a glimpse of the man’s violet locks. The back of his head indicates that he seems agitated by something.

You don’t reply, instead peering at him from the top of your glass while you take a large sip. Nagi decides not to shake you away for the time being, basking in your attention and allowing you to cling to every word he says.

His eyes catch onto your forearm when you adjust your purse. He lingers at the patch of newly exposed skin, peering curiously at the not so hidden tattoo inked.

It’s a pair of icy blue fairy wings, so small that if he wasn’t paying attention, he’d miss it. His dewy lips part curiously, a question bubbling on the tip of his tongue. But Nagi cannot find the words to ask it.

“Wanna see? You can touch, you know,” you say easily, “You just have to ask.”

“Can I?”

You nod and Nagi allows his thumb to glaze over your smooth, warm skin and over your tattoo. What you don’t say is that it’s a relatively new tattoo, only about six weeks old. To commemorate your move to a new country.

His touch his gentle but you shiver at the concentration captured in his baby brown eyes. The buzz of the bar fade away with each second he holds your gaze and you refuse to be the first one to break.

Nagi can hear Reo now, chiding him for what he’s about to do next-

“Wanna get out of here and go back to my place?” he says, taking your empty glass and placing it on the bartop.

“How romantic,” the familiarity of your words rings a bell in his head, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Nagi ignores Reo’s calls and texts, the buzzing on his phone incessant in his pocket in favor of pressing you against his closed bedroom door. He refuses to let you get too far, his lips chasing yours the moment he entered his apartment. You taste sweet, like his favorite cherries and vanilla, and he forgets to breathe for a minute when you bite his bottom lip.

He pulls away for a minute, devouring your smudged lip gloss and gilded eyes reverently. The depth of his gaze makes you excited, as if he’s devouring you slowly.

You’ve sprayed on his favorite perfume. You hope he unwraps you with his teeth.

“Can I take this off?” he says hoarsely, tugging at your blouse.

“Duh, but,” you look at his pants, “Are you sure you don’t want to get that?”

His phone is still vibrating.

“Sorry, babe, let me just get this,” he kisses your cheek in apology and you nod, getting comfortable on his bed.

“What the fuck do you want, I’m busy,” Nagi nearly snarls into the phone.

“Did you go home with-”

Nagi turns his head, only to see you unbuttoning your blouse with a shy smirk. His throat goes dry and he gulps as you lean back once you’re completely bare. Your warm skin glows with the dim lights of the bedroom. He’s itching to touch you.

“No, I gotta go,” he says quickly and hangs up, ignoring Reo’s protests as his phone falls ot the floor carelessly.

“Come here, Seishiro-chan,” you murmur, spreading your legs for him to rest in between them. He’s impatient, eager to touch you and run his hands all over your heated skin.

Nagi’s breaths are bruising as he licks his reverence against your skin. You pretend that this is not the first time he scales your body with his hands, that his touch is that of something more than a lover. It’s easy to pretend when his fingers shake as he fumbles with the button of your jeans. It’s easy when he licks into your mouth and presses his clothed hips to yours.

He doesn’t know where to look first, so he lifts your hips easily and tugs your jeans off. His breath hitches when he catches the expanse of your thighs in his tight, strong grip. The sigh that leaves your parted lips washes over Nagi like a wave.

He wants to hear more of you. More.

Something sits on the tip of your tongue and it escapes your throat in the form of a breathy gasp of his name. Your belly curls at the heat in his dark, grey eyes.

His body is taut, lean from hours and hours of training and practice. Your fingers ghost over his chest. Goosebumps rise on his skin. You reach for the belt buckle of his pants, but he stops you with a warm hand on your wrist.

You shiver at the strength concealed in those fingers.

“Are you sure about this?” Nagi rasps, his tongue feeling dry in your throat. He feels a bit depraved, for how much he wants to touch you, to claw at your heated skin and close the space between you both. He is hungry, the desire to consume you nearly overwhelming him.

You see it in his glassy eyes. The desperation for a release.

He won’t move, won’t give in to the friction that your skin grants to him. You place your foot on his chest, toes freshly done in a pretty dark blue, and nod at him with a soft smile.

It looks misplaced on the planes of your pretty face. Nagi can’t shake the odd sense of familiarity in you, can’t help but lean into it. Lean into you.

“Yeah,” your voice is choked by your own desire, “I’m sure. Are you sure?”

“God, yes-”

“You don’t need to bring god into this-”

Nagi kisses your ankle gently, a stark difference from the blazing look in his usually resolute eyes. Butterflies flutter around in your belly and he keeps eye contact with you as he kisses up your calf. It’s sweet, for someone that you just met.

You fall into the fantasy even more, unseen fairy wings taking you higher and higher.

He cradles you, his arms bracketing your head and your legs wrapping lazily around his waist as he presses a deep, bruising kiss to your lips. You chase his kiss, refusing to let him go too far and rolling your clothed hips into his.

“Ugh, you’re pretty…”

You preen at his praise, unable to stop a smile from forming on your lips as you kiss him again. You bite on his bottom lip before slipping your tongue into his mouth obscenely, swallowing his groan and locking it deep in your chest.

You could pretend that he just confessed his love for you. You throb with longing.

He traces the shape of you with his hands, chasing with his lips before slipping you out of your panties. He holds you as if you’d disappear into the night, like you’d fly away on the wings of the tattoo burned onto your arm.

You’d stay here forever to convince him that he loves you.

The reverie is jostled when you hear his phone buzzing on the floor again, calling out to Nagi. But he ignores it and doesn’t allow you to question it, instead licking and soothing his way down your navel and your hips.

He knows you, you think happily, he really knows you. How else would he know how to kiss you, how to mouth at you in a way that has you seeing stars and curling your toes. He stares at you as his tongue nudges your wetness, swallowing every sweet drop of you that he can. He laps at you with a ferocity that you’ve only seen when he’s on the field.

Maybe Nagi sees you as a prize. The thought sends a bolt of heat straight down your spine.

Nagi looks at your pussy in wonder before spitting directly on it and rubbing your clit languidly, searching your pretty face for the tell-tale gasp of his name that tells him where to go by following the sounds of your breaths.

You don’t know where to look, and instead grip his blonde hair with enough bite to make him hiss. You writhe in his hold, feeling balmy coils burn in your belly as he slithers his hand within yours.

“You’re so wet,” Nagi mutters to himself. Or to you, maybe. He doesn’t let go, always touching and pressing some part of you as you bloom in his hold. Like a lotus. He wraps his lips around your clit eagerly, like a trained puppy.

Your eyes meet his eyes as he pushes a long finger inside of you while he drinks from you. Nagi is reminded of sweet nectar, unable to get enough. He is starving for you, for you to whimper his name again. Pushing down on your hips as you writhe in his hold, he allows himself to feast on you.

“Make me cum, Seishiro,” you gasp feverishly, “Oh, I’m so close…”

It’s agonizing, how hard he is. Nagi wants to sink into you, fill you to the brim with his cock. Split you open, see your eyes roll back to your head. But before he can do that, before he can bring you to sweet rapture, he needs you to unravel all around him.

He brings you to the precipice, bringing you so, so close. He’s never heard the sounds your pretty pussy makes with anyone else, the way his fingers curl tightly in you makes you jolt. But you don’t beg him to stop.

An aching begins to burn in your belly. You don’t recognize the feeling, but you let him continue to devour you with hungry lips. The sounds that he pulls from you- from your throat, from your pussy- are filthy. Enough for your face to burn, if you weren’t so fixated on how swollen his lips were and how he belongs in between your legs.

You gush all around him with no warning, coating his lower face with your cum and your wetness. Nagi pulls away with wide eyes, as if he can’t believe it. The blanket below your body is soaked, but he doesn’t care.

“Woah,” he says, “Did you just…”

“Yeah. I’ve never… done that before,” you reply. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re seeing stars at behind your eyes as you try to catch your breath. Nagi looks at you like you’re a meal and he’s ravenous.

“Let’s see if you can do that again,” Nagi says, looming over you with a tenacious look in his eye.

“Whatever you want, Seishiro,” you say easily with a disarming smile, tugging him closer to you, “I’m yours to use however you want.”

“Hey, call me sometime?” you say, pressing a post-it with your phone number on it to his chest, “Or, you know. Maybe I’ll just see you on Maple Story?”

Nagi’s lips part in surprise, his breath catching in his throat. There’s no way that you’re fairygrl777. That would be an insane coincidence… But the tattoo, the way you know what bars he frequents, when he’s online…

Maybe Reo was right to try to interrupt him all night. Something somber washes over him, keeping him rooted to the floor.

“Wait- you’re-?”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ as you gather your things and head out of his apartment with a wicked smile, “See ya around, footyboi7.”

#nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #ffg kinktober #ficsforgaza

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