#bluelock smut

[vmlnrzmp4]

michael kaiser x reader (series)

canonverse, angst(happy ending), slow burn, eventual smut.

cw: toxic home environment(parental conflicts), mild fear & trauma.

proof-read by: @anuverse

read the prologue before proceeding.

chapter: one.

the house you return to was far from home. home: not a place but a feeling of safety and security. it was never that. the four walls would echo screaming and yelling while you would be curled up in your bed, the palm of your hands pressed tightly against your ears—in hope that the voices would fade away.

the next morning would happen and you'd be greeted by your mother, a smile playing on her lips.

"this is normal. your papa and i love each other very much. now smile, dear."

and when you got old enough, you'd mindlessly scroll through the phone—plugs in your ear as so the music would help you escape reality.

at the ripe age of 13, you were finally given the freedom to walk out of the house, told to be back before dark.

it was a chilly day in berlin when you stepped out of the four walls. the hoodie didn't help, as you hugged yourself tighter while walking down the street. one of the earphones dangling while the other one providing a sense of ease through tunes.

but that feeling of ease disappeared as you halted.

it was a street dog, tho skinny, it looked dangerous—especially with the loud bark of his.

you took a step back, ready to rush when a voice behind you made you pause.

"don't run."

your eyes widen as you looked over your shoulder.

it was a boy. around your age definitely. but he looked far from a life what you lived. he wore a hoodie like you but messy. blonde hair, face fucked up and you were sure his life revolved around abuse.

"if you run, it'll chase you," he says, stepping closer. he spared you a glance before making his way, placing himself between you and the street dog.

the doggy stopped barking as he leaned in closer to it, crouching to pay it on his head. "it's afraid and is barking to hide it's fear," the doggy relaxed under his touch.

the boy looked back at you, his features softening as he sees you relax, a smile playing on your lips. you'd smile—you'd always smile like you were taught. even if it didn't reach your eyes, it'd etch your features, making you look prettier.

"thank you,"

the boy nodded at your grateful words, "you shouldn't walk alone."

"hm?"

he repeated, "it's dangerous for a girl to walk alone. it's almost dark."

"i don't have a choice." you reply softly and truthfully.

"next time," he stands straight, facing you, "bring food. dogs like food," he says, he turned his back to you, taking steps away.

"i'm y/n," you say, making him halt midway, "my name. it's y/n."

"kaiser."

"is that your first name? what's your first name?" you persisted. and oh how can he not answer to a pretty face with an even prettier smile? so he paused. and he looked over his shoulder.

"michael," he declared simply before walking away. and even tho a low melody played in your ear, the silence that seemed to fall was comforting.

[butchizuku]

Vanilla Baby ᥫ᭡; Chigiri Hyōma + Nagi Seishiro

ᨳ Synop. Drunken confessions spilled to your boyfriend take the two of you to new heights with Hyōma's ex-situationship.

໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, reader is an author insert, they/them pronouns used to refer to reader, they are afab, they wear a dress and heels, wear makeup, have long curled hair, and fair skin. Threesomes, love confessions, hookups, alcohol consumption, reader is tipsy, trans masc!nagi, oral (reader receiving), teasing, hair pulling, fingering, strap on sex, double penetration, anal, creampies, reader is called puppy, past relationships, established relationships, Nagi and Chigiri are queer, run time; 7.5k ৎ

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. Repost from my previous blog as I really love this fic <3 Enjoy.

Bits and pieces of that night return to your fragmented memories through Hyōma’s teasing lilt and Seishiro’s knowing gaze. They make idle chit chat with reference to something you’re supposed to know. Like, an inside secret shared amongst the best of friends. You wouldn’t call Seishiro a friend. He was Hyōma’s teammate, colleague, and friend from high school. Whatever he was to you, he reached through Hyōma to you and nothing more. 

That’s why you numbed the pit of anxiety weighing you down with one too many espresso martinis. The heat on your skin and the buzz that thrummed against your rib cage distracted you from the nerves that tickled your belly and made your hands tremble. Seishiro’s languid gaze made you nervous. He studied you the same way he did the opposing team on the field. And he watched the way you squirm while holding conversation with Hyōma. You felt as though you were placed beneath a microscope to be inspected. For what? You couldn’t discern. 

Your tongue liked to loosen when warmth spread through your cheeks and your head felt pleasantly fuzzy. 

Hyōma learned many of your secrets drunkenly whispered across your pillow as he tucked you in for the night. Like your embarrassing John Green phase and the Edgar Allan Poe poetry you wrote whilst drowning within teenage angst. You were too nervous to admit them otherwise, always afraid that a big shot soccer player like him might find you too dorky or even weird if you were to confess all the little things that made you, you. Though sometimes you despised your propensity for growing so lax when you drank a little too much. 

The thought of confessing something to both Hyōma and Seishiro made your stomach turn uncomfortably and yet, the vision was so crystal clear in your head. You remember sitting between them on Seishiro’s sofa long after the evening had dwindled to a close. Your skin was warm and buzzing, your head lolled back as you gazed at Hyōma. They spoke words you didn’t understand. It wasn’t Japanese but your swimming mind struggled to follow.

“Can I tell you something, baby,” you giggled while sliding your hand up Hyōma’s arm, “Pretty please?”

His piercing ruby gaze shifted from Seishiro to you, “Of course,” he murmured, you remember him looking concerned, “You can tell me anything, my love.”

Your other hand grazed the length of Seishiro’s thigh, bringing his attention to you. Sleep had been in his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to kick the two of you out. You weren’t sure why.

“It’s always been my biggest fantasy to be with two guys at the same time.”

You nodded your head like you were proud of yourself, a small “mhm” pressed against your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall shut. The memory made your face burn. You must have said something else, a comment insinuating the small crush you used to harbour on your boyfriend's teammate, or the very real and ever present attraction you felt for him. The thought made your stomach roll, in discomfort and in excitement. 

Hyōma wasn’t a stranger to fluidity, he indulged your curiosity on his past relationships more times than you could count. You had always been quite the opposite of him, calm and level headed whereas his blood pumped and rushed adrenaline through his body at the first sight of a challenge. Everything you had ever done was carefully planned out and meticulously imagined, you were made for monogamy and didn’t much like sharing but, there was something about Seishiro that felt a bit like fatal attraction. And, you liked it.

No matter how much you wracked your brain for anything more from that night, you couldn’t remember the expression Hyōma wore from your confession. Seishiro’s presence was like a gaping black hole in your brain. You remembered how big and rough his hands were, how warm it felt to be pressed in between the both of them, how his hair tickled your cheeks when he rested his head on your shoulder but nothing more. If you spilled your guts further, had named the man who was occupying the fantasies that played in your head on lonely nights, you couldn’t know, not if neither of them spoke a word to you.

That’s why you wilted at the latest gala Hyōma had invited you to, a sad and pathetic wallflower whose roots were beginning to rot.

The glass of champagne you kept clutched in your hands had warmed considerably after each fake sip you had taken from it. You didn’t want to worry Hyōma with your incessant waves of anxiety that made your knees feel weak and threatened to have you tumble to the floor if you took another step in those platform heels that were supposed to have been a source of comfort. The material of your silk gold gown clung to your sweat-dabbled skin uncomfortably. Images of clawing out of your skin flashed behind your eyelids with each blink you took. Your cheeks ached from the faux smile you glued to your lips but the thought of embarrassing your boyfriend was far too strong to force your mouth into the frown you wished to wear.

Reo gave you a strange look as he passed by, his arm wrapped firmly around the waist of his latest date but he said nothing. Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off the wall in search of the table you’d been assigned. Passing through throngs of bodies made your head spin. Heavy, heedy perfumes and colognes prickle your nostrils and feed the growing nausea in your belly. Your glass of champagne finds itself handed to the first waiter you see, an apologetic smile on your lips and a small “thank you” whispered into the crowd. 

Your glass of wine is filled to the brim. It sits neatly on the table beside your half picked at plate of hors d’oeuvres. An aperol spritz with mostly melted ice is placed beside your shiny gold clutch. Your plum hued lipstick sits around the rim. You don’t think before reaching out to grab it and down it all in a few gulps and procure your clutch once the glass is slammed back on the table. The low, warm lighting that filled the room felt romantic at the start of the night now just feels like a nuisance as you are shuffling through the galleria in search of a bathroom. Your heels click against the floor in an angry rhythm, your hair a tangled mess of curls that sticks to your lipgloss no matter how many times you push it over your shoulders.

The bathroom is stupidly ornate. With marble floors and counters, accented by gold and emerald encrusted mirrors, you feel small when you finally step into it. Thankfully, you find it empty and plop into the first chaise lounge you find. Your heart races and your chest feels uncomfortably tight. You haven't spoken much to Hyōma or Seishiro in the past few weeks. They had been busy with brand deals, training, and other public appearances. You had been sequestered in your apartment, staring at the half written paragraph of your latest novel. But, now that you were here with them even if it were at arms length, you couldn’t help but drift back to that night.

Memories of the past bleed with the scenes playing out in front of your eyes. With Hyōma in his rich, deep magenta shirt that had somehow begun to be slowly unbuttoned as the night progressed, and Seishiro in a pair of stupidly tight black dress pants, it became harder to deny the selfish, greedy little wants that ate away at your common sense. They looked good and smelled divine. You cunt throbbed with want, your head dizzy with arousal that you couldn't shake no matter how many times you pinched your thigh or dug your nails into the palms of your hand. It clung to you like a devious parasite, only to be satiated by giving into the carnal desires that you tried to keep at bay.

Pressing your thighs together, you shook your head in frustration, “This is so stupid!” You cursed to yourself, your voice bouncing off the lifeless white walls.

“What’s stupid?” a familiar voice asks, the bathroom door squealing open as they slide in, “Why are you hiding in here? Did something happen?

Concern laces Hyōma’s voice as he walks into view. His shirt has become even messier. Once pressed and steamed to perfection, was wrinkled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His chest, gleaming in the bright light with sweat was in view, his shirt unbuttoned all the way to his belly button. The sparse beginnings of his happy trail peek through the opening. With a sigh, you press your hands to your forehead, forcing yourself to look away from him.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Hyōma kneels in front of you, his warm palms rest on your knees as he cranes his neck to get a good look at your hidden expression. Your body burns with shame and embarrassment. It stirs a pathetic whimper that you’re unable to suppress. His hands are soft, they slide beneath the hem of your dress as he coos to draw your attention. You don’t mean to do it, but your thighs part ever so slightly.

“It’s nothing, I'm just hot and my shoes are uncomfortable,” you whine, a half truth wasn’t a complete lie, “And I’m tired, the music is too loud, but I don’t want to make you leave early.”

Hyōma sighs softly, “If you’re not having a good time, then we can leave,” he peers up at you, eyes rounded and wide, “If my manager chews me out come Monday, I don’t care.”

“You should care.”

Your mouth dips into a pout, brows knitted together as you peer at him.

“I do, about you,” he says your name softly, pressing his thumbs into the fat of your thighs, “He’s always yelling at me about something or other, like the fact that I don’t post enough online.”

Cupping his cheeks, you lean down until your nose brushes against his, “I love you,” you whisper, your hair slipping over your shoulder as you inch closer to him. Your breath fans across his face and his lips part in anticipation.

Hyōma’s eyes flutter shut when your lips brush against his. A needy whine bubbles up and slips into his mouth as you kiss him, a shiver dancing up your spine. The few loose strands that have slipped past his neatly styled bun tickle your fingers which ache to tangle themselves within his hair, but had spent so much time getting pretty for you. He slides the skirt of your dress further up your thighs where the fabric bunches to expose the slightest bit of your frilly, lace panties. Panting into your mouth, Hyōma slots himself between your legs, pressing closer until he’s flush against you.

You’re vaguely aware that the door is unlocked. Anyone could walk in. With the music and conversation dulled by marble walls, you find yourself getting lost in Hyōma’s touch, searching for relief from weeks worth of tension that gathered in your belly. Without thinking, you slide your hand down his shoulder and the length of his arm and wrap your fingers around wrist, bringing his hand between your thighs. 

“I love you too,” he says before nipping at your bottom lip.

His fingers glide across the seam of your cunt, pushing against the fabric to rub a circle into your stiff clit. Your nails bite into scalp as you thread your fingers into his hair for purchase. The loud, heedy moan that pours past your lips effortlessly smothers the sound of the bathroom door slowly creaking open and then, gently clicking shut. It’s not the sound of dress shoes dragged against marble or even the sharp breath that rouses you; it’s the feeling of eyes, heavy on your figure. You know it well. Languid, yet startlingly intense, turning soft brown irises piercing. It was Seishiro. 

Your eyes snap open, meeting Seishiro’s in a heated exchange, “Hyōma,” you call, the last syllables of his name curling into a moan, “Baby, Sei- He’s…”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Seishiro murmurs, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Hyōma curses under his breath, peeling back to peer up at Seishiro. He has to crane his neck uncomfortably upward to meet Seishiro’s gaze. He stares languidly down at your boyfriend for a moment before settling back onto you, grazing over the sight of your hiked up dress and bare thighs. Licking his lips, Seishiro lets out a chuckle.

“Seriously, don’t stop.”

You wilt under his stare, your face warming in embarrassment, “Don’t be mean Seishiro,” you mumble, pulling your dress down to preserve some modicum of modesty. 

He exchanges a look with Hyōma as if to speak silently, leaving you looking between the two like a gaping fish in search of water.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Hyōma is quick to interject, crowding into your vision, “Seishiro was just going to leave.”

Your mouth drops into a frown, your brows pinching together, “No,” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest, “What was that look?”

“What look?” Hyōma sheepishly asks, wearing his guilt like an accessory.

“The look you gave Seishiro, the two of you have been looking at eachother like that since the last time we all got together,” you accuse, your pointed stare darting between the two of them, “Did I say something stupid? I’ve been racking my brain for weeks but all I remember is mentioning that I want to have a threesome.”

Seishiro snorts out a laugh, “You don’t remember what you said afterward?” You shake your head, “no,” nervously tugging at the hem of your dress. 

“Seishiro don’t,” Hyōma cuts in, “They’re already embarrassed enough.”

“No, I wanna know.”

Rarely, does Hyōma get worked up or frustrated off the soccer pitch. The look he sends Seishiro is enough to send a shiver down your spine. His usually gentle fuschia eyes narrowed and filled with the same fury you often see directed towards his rivals. Seishiro seems unbothered, running his fingers through his pale blonde hair with an eye roll.

“You told us that your ideal threeway would be the three of us,” he smoothly explains, his lips quirking up into a smirk, “You really don’t remember this?”

“Obviously not,” Hyōma sneers before turning back to you, squeezing your thighs to put your attention onto him, “Why don’t we get out of here hm, baby? Forget about all this?”

“I told you, I don’t want you to get in trouble, you’re supposed to be getting sponsors for the football club.”

Your answer doesn’t seem to placate your boyfriend. Biting down on your bottom lip, your frown presses deeper into your face. Your belly lurches with uncertainty as Hyōma sighs.

“They’re not wrong,” Seishiro points out, rocking on the balls of his feet, “I only followed you guys ‘cause our club manager wanted us to thank the owner of this place.”

Rising to his full height, Hyōma stands before you with his hands crossed over his chest, “Do you want to fuck my fiancé?” He asks, pointedly, “Because we agreed we wouldn’t mention it unless they brought it up first.”

“I must’ve forgotten.”

Seishiro shrugs his shoulders without a care in the world. His lazy smile growing wider by the second as Hyōma’s hackles rise.

“Bullshit,” he says, taking a step closer to the other man.

“Fine, I didn’t,” Seishrio confesses, his hands held up in mock surrender, “I wanna fuck your fiancée … And I want to fuck you, Hyōma.”

Hyōma baulks in shock, swallowing thickly, “Sei…” He mutters, “Stop messing around.”

They had history. It was often left unspoken, gifted to the wind and sands of time. Whatever it was, it was meant to die with the thousand other secrets buried in the back of locker rooms and in the middle of grassy fields. The tension was palpable even when you found yourself stepping into the picture, it only intensified, never able to dissipate no matter how entangled you became with Hyōma.

“I’m not.”

Swallowing, with shaky legs you force yourself to stand and step between them, “Stop bickering like children,” you hiss, wobbling a bit as you try to stay balanced on your heels, “Stop bickering and … and fuck me.”

Your chest heaves, nerves prickle beneath your blazing skin. Seishiro looms over you, stupidly tall, gangly, and scarily silent. Hyōma watches the two of you with wide eyes, his plush lip pressed between the blunt edge of his teeth. A gasp is wretched from your throat as Seishiro’s fingers glide up the length of your throat to the underside of your jaw, tipping your head back until your eyes meet. His muddy grey irises bore into you, searching for something you’re quite unsure of.

You can’t help but squirm as he tilts his head down, his breath fanning across your face before he takes the plunge and kisses you.

A full body shiver rolls through you and spurs you to twist your body out of his grasp, pushing your chest flush against his. Your hands find his hair without a second thought, tangling into the surprisingly soft, fluffy white strands. Seishiro moans into your mouth, his large, rough hands desperately grasping the fat of your hips. Hyōma saddles up behind you, his cock pressed snug against your ass. He pushes your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your sweat dabbled skin to him, pressing a balmy kiss to the flesh. 

“Hyōma,” your whimper into Seishiro’s mouth, “Be gentle, please.”

“Mhm,” he hums before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, hard enough that it’ll surely leave a mark.

Seishiro reaches past you to grab a fistful of Hyōma’s crisp shirt, furling the fabric around his fingers as if to meld the three of you together. Your cunt clenches with need, there's a thigh between your legs, you’re unsure whose it is but the pressure feels heavenly against your tender, aching clit.

The sound of pounding fists against the bathroom draws you from your stupor.

“Hey! Is anyone in there, the doors locked?”

“You locked the door, Sei?” You question, slipping out from between them to find your clutch, “Good, ‘cause I really don’t want a picture of the three of us being sold to the tabloids.”

Hyōma runs his fingers through his hair, “It’d be good publicity for your upcoming novel.”

Seishiro nods in agreement.

“Mm yes ‘cause getting caught in the bathroom at a soccer gala for underprivileged kids is going to make people wanna read sapphic courtly love.”

Brushing them off, you saunter up to the door, your clutch in tow, “Hey! The door won’t open. Can you find someone to come let me out?”

At the muffled sound of their agreement and trailing footsteps you gesture for your two men to follow you out.

“I’ll go grab our coats, Sei go call a car to take us back to mine,” Hyōma instructs, already two steps toward the main ballroom.

“On it!” Seishiro mumbles with a slight salute.

The two of you walk silently outside the venue, occasionally bumping elbows. The gust of cool evening air does little to soothe the flames that lap at your inner thighs. Your need only grows stronger as Seishiro slumps against you, his rich cologne crowding your senses. 

He hums a bit, nuzzling his face into your hair, “You’re so warm,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around your belly, “‘N smell so nice, like vanilla.”

You giggle, your head feeling dizzy from the attention.

“I’m already gonna sleep with you, you don’t have to sweet talk me,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “But … I won’t stop you if you wanna, I like it.”

“‘M not sweet talking you, it’s the truth.”

The bubbly feeling that tickles your chest has you idly realising why he had so many fans. He didn’t speak much in interviews, he much preferred to slink away to the locker room to shower and get home for a nap, but when he did he laid it on thick. Even the most professional journalists blushed and fluttered under his languid gaze. Honeyed words all too easy to slip off his tongue. Your heart jumped as your thoughts drifted into indecent territory.

“Are you taking good care of my baby?” Hyōma asks as he bounds down the stairs, his arms filled with coats and goody bags, “Are you cold sweetheart?”

You shake your head, offering him a small smile.

“I’m cold, come warm me up,” you can hear the pout in voice, his arms wrapping around you just a little bit tighter.

“The car should be here any minute, you’ll be nice and warm soon enough.”

Still, Hyōma does his best to wrap his arms around the both of you, leaving on hand to cradle all the odds and ends in his possession. Seishiro purrs in contentment, like a sweet kitten only to sour when he sees the uber pull up to the curb. You find yourself squished between the two of them in the backseat, though the passenger side was empty save for their jackets. 

The thirty minute ride to your shared apartment with Hyōma feels more like an hour. Their hands wonder. Fingers poke and prod at your thighs, flitting up the hem of your dress until they were flashed with a bit of panty. Warm palms pressed on your shoulders and snaked their way beneath your top to feel up your tits. Blood pooled along the length of your bottom lip, the skin broken and raw from how your teeth dug into the flesh to smother any pesky moans that threatened to escape.

In the five minutes it takes to walk from the curb to the front door, you find yourself aching, hardly able to push Seishiro away. His palm was pressed against your cunt, humming to himself as Hyōma fumble around with the keys. Your shoes were kicked off into some dark corner, left to be found tomorrow afternoon, the moment the door flew open. Belts, socks, and shirts were discarded somewhere on the staircase. You feel suffocated by your nerves once you enter your bedroom, so exposed as you make yourself comfortable by the headboard.

Hyōma and Seishiro sit across from you, waiting for you to make the next move.

Maybe it was the fresh air that sobered you up, or if being inside your home made the precarious nature of this situation feel real. You decide to throw caution to the wind and pull off your slip dress. The intensity of their stares make you burn from the inside out. Hyōma’s gaze is filled with familiarity as he roves over each curve and dimple he knew all too well. Seishiro explores your body with all the eagerness of an untrained house puppy, drinking in the sight of your beauty marks and long since healed scars.

You’ve Seishiro half dressed before, but the sight of flushed skin and kiss bitten lips are new. You liked it more than you thought you would.

“You are so fucking pretty,” Seishiro mumbles, his eyes darting from your chest to face in a matter of seconds.

“Thank you, Sei, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Hyōma rolls his eyes, laughing, “What they mean to say is you look good,” he murmurs, biting his lip.

“You think so, pretty boy?”

He nods, a retort balanced precariously on the tip of his tongue.

“You should know better than anyone that Hyōma only ever says what he means,” you quip, sucking in a shaky breath.

The two men stare at each other for a moment. Another silent conversation but this time you’re able to read it a bit better. Years worth of tension and denied feelings bubble up to the surface, it's palpable and steals the breath from your lungs. You’re unsure who leans in first but soon enough, their hands are tangled in one another's hair, a grunt and a groan melting into the other's mouths as they kiss. It’s intimate, just as intimate as the kisses you share with Hyōma, you almost want to look away but you can’t. Your eyes refused to be pulled away. Their tongues taste and their teeth bite, lapping ichor and sweat, and the final years of their youth. 

You only blink when your eyes begin to burn. It is then that you remember you were sitting across from them, not simply a voyeur intruding with their peering when your name is passed between their mouths like a soccer ball. You're unsure who it comes from and who it is that echoes the sentiments with his own throaty groan.

Your palms begin to sweat. They turn your attention to you almost as if it were instinctive. Perhaps you squeaked or let out a throaty groan of your own, the sheer eroticism too much for your feeble body to handle.. You feel like prey, pinned between too hungry predators doused in blood and too tempting for them to ignore. Hyōma strikes first, laying one open palm upon the swell of your knee, smoothing his calloused fingers around the flesh as if to sample before tasting. Seishiro hangs back, apprehensive and calculated. He’s trying to pick the situation apart and find the best angle of attack.

“I like this set,” Hyōma murmurs, his back arching as he splays his body across the bed, “So soft, hugs everything just right, did you wanna look pretty for us?”

You find yourself nodding even though it wasn’t true, puffing your chest out a little but more as if to put yourself on display. Seishiro nods too, shuffling closer. The bed creaks under his weight, the old iron wrought metal as loud and squeaky as it always is. Perhaps, it’s louder amid the pregnant pause that hangs in the air. 

“Wanna take it off for us?”

Seishiro swallows when he’s finished speaking, draping himself across Hyōma’s body. Hyōma’s calf rests between Seishiro’s thighs. You don’t miss the pleased little sigh he releases.

Using your index finger, you slowly slide one bra strap down your shoulder blade. They watch with bated breath as you expose more of your sunkissed skin, and the tanlines you tried so hard to hide with your outfit for the evening. The other strap comes off faster, Hyōma’s squeezed your thigh in encouragement. Adoration swims in his irises. Somehow, it’s even stronger than it typically is, as if at any moment it’d leap out from his eyes and wrap itself around you.

Being watched makes you simper demurely, shyly using your hair to cover your breasts when you’re finally able to get the bra clasp undone. You don’t know who to look at, Seishiro who grinds himself into Hyōma, or Hyōma who touches you like you’re the finest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon.

Summer’s treated you well. It’s evident in how you glow in spite of your frayed nerves.

“Should I keep going?” You timidly ask, placing your hand overtop of Hyōma’s.

He shakes his head, tangling his fingers with yours, “No, let Sei take your panties off.”

Seishiro perks up like a puppy at the sound of his name, nodding his head before he’s fully registered what was being suggested. 

“I wanna take ‘em off … Maybe keep ‘em too? You won’t mind right sweetheart?”

“No, you can keep them,” you mumble without missing a beat, laying further back against the headboard, some of your catches on the swirling metal but you pay it no mind and melt into the cushions. Your legs spread, “If you get me another pair.”

Your inner thighs feel sticky. Surely, the pale white lace has gone translucent exposing your tender clit and the pink of your pussy hidden behind your bush. The gust of air that hits your cunt makes you tremble. Seishiro’s hands warm you right back up as they trail up your thighs, his thumbs effortlessly hooking around the waistband. Your heart drops and all the air in your lung evaporates as Sei’ shamelessly burrows his nose into your cunt and takes a deep breath before he peels the fabric away.

He hums happily to himself, pocketing your underwear without hesitation, “Can I taste you?” He asks with big, round eyes, “Pretty please?”

“You’re devilish Sei’, you know they can’t say no to your puppy eyes.”

Hyōma laughs but joins Seishiro between your legs, his long red hair spilling across thigh, “Let us taste you my love.”

Not that you were in any position to deny them, so badly wanting more than just a whisper of a touch, but Hyōma didn’t ask. He was telling you. Your chest fluttered, making you feel weightless as you spread your thighs a bit wider to accommodate them.

“Please,” you whimper, your hips twitching upwards, “Eat me out, my pussy’s so needy.”

“I know baby, I know.”

Hyōma cradles the back of Seishiro’s head, his nails pressing into his scalp, pushing his face into your cunt. Sei moans unabashedly into you, the reverberation sending pleasure zipping up your spine.

“Taste good, don’t they?” Hyōma asks, his lips against the shell of Sei’s ear. 

You think he nods his head, but it’s difficult to tell as he sucks your clit into his mouth, his nose deeply buried in the thatch of curls. All you see is tousled white hair and Hyōma’s smirking visage. 

“Yeah, that’s it, good boy Sei.”

“Oh fuck,” you groan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your nails scrape against your bed sheets as you fail to gain purchase. Grounding yourself is a fruitless endeavour because Hyōma is quick to brush his lips along the length of your inner thigh, savouring how your soft skin feels against him. Your arousal and Seishiro’s spit slowly oozes between your cheeks, soaking the fabric beneath you. It feels obscene. Your chest might burst any moment from how your heart races so roughly, rattling your ribcage. When Hyōma’s tongue slips out from between his lips you fear you may have died and splayed before you was something out of your wildest fantasies.

Hyōma’s tongue joins Seishiro’s in lapping up the taste of you.

Their tongues slide against one another, up and down the length of your slit before settling on your clit. It’s wet, you’re wet, incredibly so. Your pussy pulses as your orgasm builds, your body growing taunt. The bedframe jiggles and squeaks when you throw your head back, the dull thrum of pain is hardly registered. Your mind’s a shifting sea of  rapturous pleasure that blinds you of anything else. 

There isn’t an inch of you left untouched.

Hyōma’s nails pierce your doughy thighs, little crescent moons blossom on the surface of your skin. Pink and pulsating from where it’s broken and begun to bleed. Seishiro strokes your hip and the underside of your knee, coiled around your body like he’s afraid you’re a mirage that’ll fade away before his very eyes. Your body feels as though it's been dosed in hot lava, it swirls along the dip of your belly button and seeps between your organs until you squirm in search of reprieve.

A soft jumble of their names drips down your tongue and oozes past your lips, “Right there, right there please,” you pleaded to no one in particular, “Please, I wanna cum.”

They melted into a singularity. Their touch and quick pants of heady breath indiscernible as you squeezed your eyes shut. Tongues swirl around your clit, drool and slick drip down their chins. With sloppy slurps and obscene moans, you find yourself on the precipice of completion. Tiptoeing closer and closer with each flit of their tongue, and the sloppy kisses that are pressed around your slit.

Somehow, your hands find their hair. 

Tired of uselessly grappling with your duvet, your fingers dig into their scalps. Eliciting even more debauched groans, a myriad of them fall right into you. Your thighs twitch and seize, your body growing stiff as pleasure bleeds down your torso and seeps through every pore, every piece of you. The fluttering feeling in your chest intensifies as your orgasm crashes into you. You release a wanton whimper, you cunt throbbing as you cum. 

Your back arches off the bed almost painfully, only to give way as your muscles turn to jello. You collapse against the bed with a huffy moan, a giggle bubbling up at the sight of Hyōma and Seishiro’s tousled hair. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” Sei asks, peering up at you from between your legs, “We made you cum and you’re laughing at us?”

Slick and spit make his lips and chin shiny, “Aren’t they such a brat?” Hyōma murmurs, resting his chin on Sei’s shoulder, “They should be thanking us for making them feel so good.”

Seishiro nods in agreement, a sly smirk growing on his lips, “You should be thanking us like this,” clearing his throat, he puts on a terrible impression of you, “Thank you Hyō, thank you Sei for making me cum soooo hard!”

“I don’t sound like that!” You pout with an eye roll, “I was laughing because you guys look cute all messy like this.”

Hyōma leans forward, his half clothed body pressing against your tender bare skin, “You think we’re cute? Well I think you’re absolutely adorable, puppy.”

“Hyō…. Not in front of Sei!”

Your embarrassed whines are smothered by the gentle kiss he pressing into your mouth. The taste of you lingering on his tongue fills your senses. Salted skin and the bitter tinge of your essence is laved over you. Your tongues meld against one another, desperate heady moans clashing with each.

“What? Embarrassed that you like being called puppy?”

Seishiro sits up, stretching his arms above his head. His unbuttoned dress pants sit low on his hips, exposing the wispy tendrils of his happy trail. He laughs at your expression, filled with mirth. Slipping his hand beneath the waistband of his underwear, he curses beneath his breath.

“I think it’s cute, puppy,” he murmurs, biting his lip, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The wink he sends you distracts you from Hyōma who’s weaved his fingers into your knotted curls and begun to suckle on your neck. His cock strains against his pants, his pre leaking through the fabric and smearing on your skin.

“You guys are the worst!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Hyōma mutters, before turning to Seishiro, “Can you come help be unzip, Sei?”

They hover above you, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. Clothing is tugged off on and thrown carelessly to the floor. Hyōma’s flushed, weeping cock stands stiffly to attention and drips precum all over your blanket. Seishiro’s wispy little happy trail leads your eyes to the fluffy blush that adorned his pelvis. Arousal hung like webs around the thatch of hair, his puffy, throbbing t-dick just barely peeking out. 

You trail your fingertips along the length of Seishiro’s torso, gently following along the scar that runs beneath his chest. His body is quick to react to your touch, he shivers, the muscles in his tummy fluttering ever so slightly. He moans when Hyōma gently combs his fingers through his pubes, just barely touching his dick. 

“You’re so wet Sei,” he comments with a smirk, “Did eating out my sweet puppy out really turn you on that much?”

Seishiro nods, his hand shooting out to curl around Hyōma’s bicep. 

“You’re so sensitive, baby.”

He nods again, pressing his body lip between his teeth. His grey eyes darken with, lust and urgency swim amongst his irises, “Don’t tease me,” he grits, frowning, “I’ll cum.”

“Just from that?” You ask, shifting to sit on your knees, “You really are so sensitive Sei, that’s really hot.”

Brushing the tip of your finger around his areola, you tentatively give his nipple a tweak. Seishiro jolts into your touch, “If you keep doing that, I-,” he warns before clamping his lips shut.

“Just from a little bit of touching?”

The corner of your mouth quirks upward as you peer at him, watching as his mouth falls open and out comes a coquettish whimper that makes your blood run hot with desire. His sloppy cunt squelches obscenely as Hyōma jerks him off, his neck bared to you as he throws his head back in ecstasy. Tweaking his nipples, you graze the tender skin of his jugular before planting a soft kiss to blossoming bruises.

“‘M sensitive,” he moans your name with a pathetic little expression adorning his features.

Seishiro falls apart under your ministrations quickly. He gushes all over Hyōma’s hand, his body twitching with pleasure from each brush and tug of your hands. Slumping against you, Seishiro lets out a quiet little mewl, tears of pleasure prickling at the corner of his eyes and dripping down your shoulder.

“We know baby,” Hyōma coos passively, soothing to Sei’s scrambled brain, “We know you are.”

Giving his cock a swift tug, Hyōma grunts prettily, using his precum to lube up his cock. A whine builds at the back of your throat, so quickly you can hardly stop it from spilling out and drifting over to Hyōma and Seishiro’s ears.

“You want us inside you puppy?”

You nod, afraid and untrusting of your voice.

“Go get Sei your strap-on,” he instructs, nodding his head towards the bedside table on your side of the bed.

Your strap on, lacked any straps or harness in the traditional sense. It’s sleek and silicon, rosy pink in colour, and sometimes vibrates if you remember where you put the remote. Grabbing the bottle of strawberry scented lube, you sat in between Hyōma and Seishiro.

“Spread your legs for me Sei,” you whisper, tentatively stroking his pelvis, “That’s it, that’s a good boy.”

A shudder wracks through Seishiro as you gently push the bulbous end of the feeldoe into him, gathering up his arousal to guide it inside with ease. He groans as the flared tip sits snug against his engorged, throbbing dick. Squirting a bit of lube into the palm of your hand, you stroke the strap, watching with a pleased smirk as Seishiro’s eyes grow lidded.

“Fuck,” he curses beneath his breath.

Batting your lashes at him you murmur in a sultry tone “Can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you state, giggling at the Japanese he spits out in response.

“Don’t tease him too much,” Hyōma chides with a smug expression, “He won’t hesitate to return it tenfold, my love.”

“Just like you do?”

He hums in agreement,“Come suck me off?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

“Help me Sei!”

Hyōma’s fingertips follow the length of your spine as you sink into all fours before him. He traces shapes into your skin and drags his nails against the flesh until you shiver. Seishiro mirrors your position, eager and awaiting your instruction. Drawing him in for a kiss, you wrap your hand around Hyō’s cock, languidly drawing your hand up and down.

Seishiro chases your kiss, following as you bring your head in front of Hyōma’s weeping tip. Sliding your tongue along the underside you follow the throbbing, prominent vein. Sei is sloppy but his fervent pursuit of pleasure makes up for it tenfold. He kisses your mouth over Hyōma’s cock, his free hand gently fondling his full balls.

Above you, Hyōma mutters something in Japanese. It’s not a phrase you recognise, no matter how you strain your ears you can’t begin to discern what it is he may have said. Whatever it is, it makes Seishiro flush, drool slipping down his chin as he suckles on Hyōma’s cock. He presses his eyes shut, embarrassment written across every inch of his skin.

“Open your eyes baby,” you coo, tugging on Seishiro’s messy white hair, “Want you to see me, Sei.”

His eyes flutter open, almost at your command. Large, slate grey irises tentatively peer back at you, mouth full of cock. 

“I need to be inside you,” Hyōma moans, his nails digging into your flesh.

“Please.”

You murmur around his cock, your eyes turned upward. Hyōma’s throat bobs as he swallows. Sweat drips down his lush body, his skin glistens deliciously. Sei mirrors you, gazing up at him with wide eyes and blush kissed cheeks.

Pulling off his cock with a pop, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Lipstick is smudged across, you notice it’s smeared across Hyōma’s dick, his lips, his neck, Sei’s too. 

“I need you both inside me.”

Hyōma lays against the pillows, pulling you by the hips to settle in his lap. His cock slides across your slick folds and you can’t help but moan. Seishiro kneels behind you, quiet and tender. The strap-on nudges against your ass cheek as he grabs your hips, his face nuzzling into your shoulder.

More lube is squirted between your cheeks and along Seishiro’s length. Bracing yourself against Hyōma’s shoulders, you bite your lip as his cock is nudged against your drooling hole. He sinks you down slowly, your walls stretching open to accommodate his girth. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, your heart skipping a beat as you’re filled. 

Seishiro plunged his pointer finger into your ass, slowly working you open. 

“Sei, please I need you,” you beg, twisting your neck around to look at him, “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“You heard them, be a good boy and fill them up, Seishiro.”

Seishiro snorts a laugh, “You’re so needy huh,” he quips, “All bark and no bite.”

Whatever witty retort you might have had dies before it can reach your tongue. Your breath and words are stolen from you with a swift quickness as Seishiro eases the tip of his strap against your asshole. The stretch burns but the pain effortlessly melds into pleasure. Hyōma’s fingers play with your clit, rolling soothing circles that make your head spin around and round.

“Shut up, Sei!” You grit with a pant of breath, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he bottoms out.

You’re full, incredibly so. 

Your limbs feel as though they’ve turned into led and weigh a hundred more pounds. You rest your head upon Hyōma’s chest, you can hear his stuttering heartbeat erratically pound against his ribcage as he slowly lifts your hip upwards until only their tips remain inside of you.

“You feel so good around me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Gonna make me cum, God I’m so hard for you.”

The fluttery feeling makes a home in your chest, wrapping around your sternum and melting all the way down to your toes. Their cocks grind against each other whilst inside you, the feeling of it makes you stupid. There isn’t a single thought that fills your head, just pleasure. Heavy, thick sea of mind numbing pleasure that you wouldn’t dare to find yourself out from.

Hyōma throbs within you, Seishiro’s slick drips onto your ass as they drill into you at a surprisingly even pace. You vaguely register the sound of them kissing above you, you’re too fucked out to lift your head and watch. 

“Please,” you mumble into Hyōma’s skin for no reason in particular, “Please baby.”

The tension in your belly bursts quickly, your cunt squirt and throbbing as you cum. You feel it gush out of you, soaking both men and the blankets below you. Seishiro lets out a muffled sound of surprise, it’s followed by a chuckle and then a grunt. Hyōma twitches inside you, he’s on the bring too, cooing words in Japanese that cause Sei to move faster, fucking into you like it was his goal to make you addicted to the feeling of him driving his cock into you. 

“That’s it, good boy Sei,” Hyōma grunts, biting Seishiro’s bottom lip, “Good puppy, squeezing my cock so tight.”

Warmth spreads through you as he fills you up with his cum. Your head feels dizzy as you lay flat against him, your thighs twitching and inky darkness edging at the corners of your vision. His hips stutter for a moment as he chases his release, pumping his seed back into your hole. Seishiro pushes your hair to the side and plants a sloppy kiss to the nape of your neck. He collapses onto you, crushing you between the two of them.

“Fuck, I love you guys,” Sei murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso.

Your body breaks out in goosebumps, shock thrumming through your veins. Did he just say that? Did he mean it? Or, was it just the post orgasm bliss speaking? Sometimes, he and Isagi joked that stupid often fell out of their mouths when they spoke before thinking.

“I love you guys,” you find yourself saying, linking your fingers with Hyōma’s he gives you a squeeze before humming.

“I love you two.”

© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).

[moechies]

kaiser hates when you're angry with him. he tries -- tries his hardest to reason with you and resolve the growing tension, but you're damn stubborn. stages of ignoring him, responding snarkily and angrily with a mean pout, or simply bursting into tears and stomping your away out of his vision when he pushes you over the edge.

at times like these, kaiser feels hopeless. it's not that the man thinks he's better off doing something more significant instead of chasing after his pissy girlfriend, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit sick with your little outbursts.

so no matter how you resist, the blue haired man is ought to get you on your back, with his handsome face shoved in-between your plush thighs. he knows that the first step to resolving your anger is to get you to calm down, and his words weren't doing much good -- therefore he'll settle for sinking in-between your thighs.

"calm down."

your legs are propped onto his bulky shoulders, body pulled to the edge of the mattress and messing the sheets. he's propped up on his knees, lapping sweetly at your sopping cunt, begging for your forgiveness.

kaiser won't admit it out loud - but he loves when he feels your leg quiver against him. as if a signal that's telling him you feel good - that he's making you feel good despite your refusal to tell him verbally. you gasp when he suckles at your pearly clit, nudging the heel of your feet into the concave of his back.

"m--micha, stop," you whine, fidgeting in his hold. you're falling pliant to his ploy, one you know too well.

"i'm sorry, liebling. i wont ever, ever, do it again, 'righ'? don't be so angry."

he whispers breathily against your flushed folds, the warmth of his breath transversing across your sensitive cunt.

"y--you're not, only saying t--that." you hiccup, back arching simultaneously when he slivers his tongue into your swollen hole. "i promise, liebling." he mumbles, looking up at your poor expression, his heart clenching with fervor when he notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip and your bubbly eyes. "i do. micha doesn't break promises, ha?"

he sighs with relief when you finally give in - nodding your head although reluctantly. his plush lips press a soft peck to your swollen nub before backing away, hands caressing your body upwards with featherlight touches before he reaches your neck. he soothes a calloused thumb over your damp cheek, then over your damp lashes, following with a kiss to your swollen lips. "i love you. i'll be better, kätzchen, i will."

“now lay still, let me make my baby feel good? ha?”

[prettyboykatsuki]

slow down | n. seishiro

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, fwb to lovers, implied dom reader, switching for the first time (kinda), unprotected sex, backshots, explicit smut, love confessions in the middle of sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.8k

✮ a/n ; im not taking questions at this time don't ask me anything. title from chase atlantic. dont say a word to me.

✮ synopsis ; when you ask him to fuck the sad out of you, nagi mostly does it because it's you.

but maybe it's worth doing again, if it makes you whine so pretty.

Something clicks.

It's weird. Nagi doesn't totally get why it happens now of all times. Figuring out he loves you mid-thrust seems silly, even for him.

It's not like this is the first time Nagi has ever had sex with you. He decided to fulfill your request of asking him to put in a little work while you hung out on shared day off.

He's used to the routine of you coming over to use him, more or less. He doesn't mind it at least. He doesn't think too deeply about it in general. Once you propositioned him to be your regular hook-up, Nagi couldn't find it in himself to voice a complaint.

Sex with you feels good, probably because being around you has always felt nice. You pamper him a little like Reo does, but you're... different, somehow. Nagi can't completely explain it. You have a different feeling to you like all of the ways you spoil him to you sort of come easy.

You said once that you like that you know what to expect with Nagi. It was easy not to hope or want for anything other than what you got.

He isn't sure why he's remembering all of this now. It's not the time. You're holding onto his pillow, muffling moans into it while you fuck yourself back on his dick and there are at least five things he should probably be more concerned with than what he's thinking about right now.

Maybe it's the same, really. He's still thinking of you. On the other hand that's all he ever does.

Nagi watches you, suddenly mesmerized by the view. He's not usually fucking you from this angle, but he can tell he's feeling you a lot deeper. The sex he's used to having is lazy and 'intimate' as you put it, too much for a hook-up. You're usually under his weight, or in his lap, or on your belly while he curls over you. You're usually the one controlling the pace, and if he is thrusting at all - he's usually doing it with his head totally empty. Chasing the pleasure with a mindlessness that feels comfortable. Cock heavy with need, thrusting into you - warm and wet, perfect around him.

The sex you have with Nagi is good, but above all it's comfortable. You come expecting him to get hard and do what you ask - which is easy.

This is not that.

But it's good. Maybe better. At the very least, new in a way he wants to explore.

You weren't even supposed to be having sex. Though that's usually the case - you'd told him before coming over that you weren't feeling quite up to it. You asked if it'd be okay if all you did was cuddle and of course it was.

Not wanting to have sex is one thing, but it was the abrupt difference in your mood that prompted his concern. You're usually upbeat and chatty - like to talk to his ear off even if he's not totally listening.

So it's weird when you crawl into his bed silent and almost moody, it's so obvious even Nagi can tell. And it worries him as is, but it worries him most when you get worked up enough to cry in front of him after he asks you what's wrong.

He's not usually good with stuff like that, so he uses the advice so he falls back on what he's used to. Asking if there's anything he can do.

You made a joke, between a sniffle. You could fuck the sadness out of me, I guess.

You weren't serious. But Nagi thought, well he could do that much. It doesn't bother him, since it's you and he has a day off. And it feels off to see you cry, so if he can get you stop - that'd be good.

Sex is different when Nagi is the one putting the work in. This is the delayed realization. He's never really thought about doing it - since the sex you have already is really good. He doesn't see the point in fixing what's not broken.

He likes it like this, he thinks. Even kissing you. It's fun, somehow. He's never seen you act like this before. Whining, sighing - something almost pitiful to you. You're expecting him to give up from what he can tell, at least from all the times you pull away from him—glassy eyed and giggly, asking if he's had his fun yet.

And honestly, Nagi is expecting it of himself too. He's done his job in making you feel better.

He's sort of surprised at how much he wants to keep going.

It feels good though. Euphoric. A sense of ego, he supposes. It feels good to know what he can do to you if he wants too, at any time.

He looks down at the evidence it and almost feels content.

You fuck yourself back onto him the second he moves and it makes him click his teeth just a bit. It bothers him somehow, in this specific instance. His hands find the soft flesh pudge of your hips and he thinks about how good you feel between his fingers as he holds you in place hard.

You wiggle yourself back against him desperately and in unconscious retaliation he pulls out completely. Your pussy gapes open at his absence - the first time he's ever seen inside. Swollen and sticky, fluttering as his thick cock lays against your cunt. Crystalline threads of pre-cum and arousal stick and cling to you both. Your pussy is glistening pretty under the low-lights, viscous threads of his own pre sticking against the hair of your pussy. Cocky red, tip ruddy and throbbing.

Nagi rubs against you tentatively. Pleasure guides him, his hips finding the right angle to thrust against you but not quite inside. He can hear the moan you bite into the pillow and feels a strange sense of contentment mix with vague annoyance. It'd be better if he heard you loud and clear.

"Nagi-kun," You breathe out. It's the first time he's heard you say his name like that.

Something inside him jolts. It's the same realization he had before. He should tell you before it slips away.

"Again."

A pause. Nagi ruts his hips, forcing it out of you. "Nagi-kun."

"That's it," He mumbles, to himself. "I like that."

You make another garbled noise - force your hips back up and Nagi pulls away again, not on purpose. Somehow, he doesn't feel like giving you what you want quite yet. You do this, back and forth until you whimper, head turned over your shoulders.

"Why aren't you fucking me?" You whine, words filtered through thick tears, voice riddled with frustration. "Fuck me, already."

"Mm,"

Nagi doesn't want to make you beg. But he likes this feeling - whatever it is. How you act when he holds you in his palm. Doesn't want to make you small. Rather, you are like this. Cute. Makes him want to see everything else you could do in reply to him. Even if it means you might nip at him, somehow - if it's you, it wouldn't be bad. He rubs his cock again against your swollen cunt, sliding it between your thighs too for good measure. Gripping your hips even harder he fucks inbetween them with a sigh - head of his cock catching on your clit.

You keep moaning his name when he makes you feel good. The harder he goes, the more he smacks his his hips against your ass - not quite relieving the pressure in your gut you just keep crying out for him. It's nice to hear. That's all it is, really.

"Not my thighs," You whine. Nagi takes a breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Where?"

You make a noise, looking over at him from your shoulder - scandalized. "Are you serious?"

He doesn't reply or react, just keeps still. You groan.

"Fuck my pussy," You say, wincing at your own voice. "Want your dick inside me."

"Call me Seishiro,"

You blink absently, another desperate cry "Seishiro-kun," You breathe, soft and gentle and sincere. Cute. "Fuck me. Please?"

He nods. Doesn't say anything in reply - just grabs your hips and leans forward - a hand next to your head. Keep himself steady, and keep you upright.

Raw dick slick from sliding against your sex, tip heavy with pre-cum - Nagi stuffs his cock inside you in one go. Your pussy stretches around him with ease, accommodates his ridiculous length like it's done it time and again. He's felt it before, felt you before - but it's the first time he's really noticing just how much effort it must put in to do it. Somehow, he finds that endearing too.

His cock, thick and heavy and wanting - aches as he bottoms out. Sticky heat swallows him whole, his waist melting against your own and making him weak. It always feels good, but it never feels this good. Never feels good enough that he makes a noise any louder than a breath.

But he moans this time - shivers as his fingers sink into the plush of your hips and he grinds the tip of your cock against the very edge of your cervix. Your knees go weak underneath him, you'd buckle if he wasn't there to hold you upright.

Another wave of arousal spills around the girth of his cock, and you squeeze down on him tight. Oh. You like that. He does it again, mindlessly. You grow wetter, more desperate. All pulsing waves of heat and desire, Nagi can feel your legs tense as you get stimulated from the inside.

"Keep your hips up," Is all he says as he lets go, moving his hand around your waist until his fingers brush your clit. You gasp.

"Seishi—hicc,"

Words lost, Nagi rubs a circle into the throbbing bundle of nerves. Twitchy, restless under his fingers - he's practiced in this. Good with his hands, he starts slow until he finds a place it gets easy for him to do without putting any tension on the rest of him.

You're shaking before him. Nagi places an absent kiss on your shoulder blade. You keep half-way saying his name, stumbling on the syllables and sounds when he makes you feel good.

"Fuck," You're falling apart. He can hear it. "Quit touchin' me like that. I'll cum."

"Then cum,"

"I don't want to cum like this,"

"Then how?" He says. A delayed sense of understanding. "Oh, you want to cum on my cock?"

You clench down on him hard. Huh.

"That's it? Is that why you won't cum?"

"Sei-kun," You're so whiny like this. "You're being extremely unfair today."

"Am I? Sorry." He isn't sure if he means that. "Is that what you meant? You want to cum while I fuck you,"

You frown, voice barely above a whisper. "...Yeah. So quit it already,"

Nagi pulls out and you breathe a sigh of relief before he slams right back in. You almost scream, mouth fallen open. "Just tell me next time. It's fine."

Again. Your words die as soon as he moves. This was the right pace. The right everything. He can tell because your pussy keeps fluttering around him, slick walls trembling so violently each time he slides in and out. Gripping onto the hard length of his cock like you don't want him to pull out completely. Each time he gets close to doing so, you suck him in further. Milk his cock for all it's worth, his balls feeling suddenly heavy and tight. He moans in pre-emptive, at the thought of how good it's gonna feel unloading it in you.

"You feel so good." He says, appreciative. You whimper again. "Ah, see? It's so tight. Does it feel good for you?"

"Feels so good. Love when you fuck me Sei,"

Love. His thoughts loop back around again to what he was thinking about at the start.

"You feel good to me. Really good." And then, not thinking about it at all. "I love you,"

You tense, looking over your shoulder - looking out of it, dazed. Unsure. "W-what?"

"Huh? I said I love you,"

"S-Seishiro?"

Your pussy grinds down on him again. You liked hearing that, huh?

"I love you," He says, and you whimper - audible. "I wanted to tell you before."

"Sei—"

...!

He stops again before picking back upon a brutal pace almost instantly. It feels right. No mercy as he pounds his cock in and out of you - suddenly feeling like something's possessed.

Your hands reach back to try and push him out but they're so weak it's almost ticklish.

"Sorry. Later," He says, fucking you with every ounce of effort he can finds - rubbing your clit with nasty precision. Each moan sounds punched out of you, breathy and high. "You're so cute."

And you are, Nagi thinks. He's starting to understand. You're cute in a different way that everything else cute is. That's special to you. It's all so cute to him.

You repeat his name again and again. Nagi never gets sick of hearing you say it somehow. He wonders why it only just clicked that this is something he can have. He wishes he would've figured it out sooner.

"Sei," You say, mindless - unthinking. He can feel your whole body tighten, tension making your limbs wind back. Fingers clawing in the sheets, toes curled up, spine curving into a 'C' as the pressure in your gut slowly unravels and throbs around him.

Nagi keeps pace - multitasking well enough that you don't falter. Laser-focused, he wants to know what it's like to make you cum from his own hands. His own ego. He wants to know how you feel underneath when your body gives out from pleasure - in the same way he wants other things. Completely selfishly, a hunger gnawing in his gut as you get close to the edge. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, doesn't falter. He pounds into you as you gasp and tremble without a sense of mercy.

Raw desire burrows itself into his chest and blooms inside the space between his bones. His eyes almost hurt from how hard he focuses.

Finally, you call his name once more - your cunt spasming relentlessly around him. Hot, so hot - his dick almost hurts from how hard he wants to cum before you.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck—cumming, I'm cumming!"

Nagi groans as you cum. His cock nearly slips out from how hard you pulse around him, waves of your own cum and arousal frothing around the base of his cock from how hard he fucks you. A wet liquid sprays against his thighs as he bottoms out while you ride your high. His own body gives up on holding back as soon as he feels you cumming.

Two thrusts more and he's spilling his seed into you full. Hot, thick ropes of cum paint your insides white as he pants. He almost collapses over you, the both of you breathing hard from exhaustion as the high starts to cum down. He can barely think.

It's annoying he's still hard, but he's not quite tired. He hasn't gone soft.

"Nagi-kun,"

"Seishiro," He corrects. You look over your shoulder at him in surprise. Nagi looks back plainly.

"Uhm. Right. Seishiro-kun. Did you...did you mean to say that?"

"What? That I love you?"

"Yeah. Or was it a heat of the moment thing?"

"Huh? Why would it be that?" He says, earnestly confused. For someone reason this makes you giggle. "I meant it. I just figured it out."

You pause. "...While we were having sex?"

"Huh? Yeah. You were really cute like that."

"What the—did you call me cute?"

"Yeah. Do you not like that?"

"I didn't—It's not that I didn't like it but it's... I would've never imagined you saying it to me,"

He wonders why. You're plenty cute. It's just that Nagi only recently really figured out what the word was. He shrugs. You chuckle.

"What were you going to do if I didn't like you?"

He pauses. "I didn't think about it. Do you not like me?"

You laugh harder this time. "That's so like you. I do like you, Sei-kun. I love you too,"

"Then it's fine," He hums., noncommittally. You giggle.

"I guess so."

A pause. Nagi loves the warmth of your body under him. He wants to keep cuddling but something bugs him.

"Can we go again like this? It won't go down."

...

"... Seriously? Normally it takes you a minute."

"I think it's cause you said you love me." Nagi adds.

"Oh my god. Did I just unleash something in you? You've never acted like this before, like ever."

Nagi shrugs. It'd be good to get use to it now, he thinks.

"Maybe. Can't we?"

You squirm underneath him and Nagi feels himself twitch. Your face warms. See? You're plenty cute, he thinks.

"...I guess it's fine."

He nods. "I wanna do it while looking at you this time. Okay?"

"God. Sure. Okay."

[f0ofishies]

first times w/ bllk men.

You didn't even know how you even pulled the supposedly best striker in the world. Yeah, you were done for when Noel Noa had made you explore the city of Paris for a first date after pining after you for months now. He definitely didn't ask his teammates on advice.. definetly.

You giggled at him once again, walking around the city of love. How romantic, you thought for a bit. Your palm grazed his big palm, looking over the scenery from your now balcony. You both reached home a few minutes ago.

"Love?" His deep sulky voice called out to you. Tilting your head just enough to meet his golden gaze, he looked straight down. "Are you ready yet?" He whispered. Blunt and straightforward..

"Ready for–" "Love making." He was always vocal with you, even about his desires for you. Words caught up in your throat, as a light brush crept around your ears. "Now..?" He just clutched your palm even more. "Yes. Now."

Shittt–! You looked down at him. He was three fingers deep in you already, curling both his index and middle finger. He pressed on the spongy spot that made you wail. Honestly, he didn't knew how long he'd been yearning for you to squirm.

"My cock isn't even inside you yet, mon coeur..?" You've recently found out, he dirty talks in french even if you had no idea what he was even chanting in your ear. Praises– insults..? Too dumb on his fingers to even knew.

"You're too big.. that's why!" You tried to reason with the white-haired man, he couldn't help but groan at how you've been clenching. "Mmm.. stretched you for so long.. you've.. gotta be ready.." He groaned, leaning you down to a missionary position.

Your palms had been tugging at his white buttoned up shirt, well half buttoned now. He'd been stopping his advances, only wanting your first time climaxing on him first. "No, no, wait I'm so close..!"

He finally pulled out, your slick walls even gripping at his fingertips. "Mm, ready now.." He huffed a bit, shifting his position. Your teary eyes widened hearing the sound of a plastic ripped– did you just saw a size L condom?

Your mouth went dry, as you gawked at his size. Pinkish tip with some visible veins– "Baby is that even going to–" "Yes, yes it will.." Sliding the plastic wrap around himself, he let out a groan.

He wasn't vocal before, sure, but now he's panting a bit.. trying to squeeze the tip right pass your tight walls. "Please relax.. amour.." You couldn't even respond, your hole clenching like crazy "Ugh– nuh..!"

"Mon Ange.." He hooked over both your thighs that were burning over his broad shoulders. Your pretty nails– thrashed around his back. "Mmm! Noelnoelnoel.." Your voice murmuring his name like a prayer.

And when he finally bottoms out, he lets out a small brief chuckle. "Hah– Merde.. you're so tight.. still too tight.." He held up your calf a bit, it angled him deeper.

"Your body was made for me, baby.."

Dating him? How'd you even pull, Michael fucking Kaiser, the German Prodigy people call him most of the time, or maybe the arrogant bastard people know him by. Yeah you were just dating this soccer player by some miracle chance..

You couldn't help but giggle softly, as he finally visited you in the small apartment– barely making a living from your job.

"Michael.." Your voice drawled out his name as he finished a hot shower at your apartment, wearing only just his sweatpants. Your eyes indulged in the sight of him. "Ogling me again, huh?"

"Totally not." Light footsteps grazed against your wooden floors as you approached the blonde haired man. Your hands grasped his neck, tracing the subtle blue rose tattoo that displayed. "Mein Schätzelein.." Hearing the subtle nickname made your heart raise.

"Oh, and what would that entail now?" You've always liked the way his accent rolls off his tongue. Made you feel special– Michael, even with his complexities, made you feel good. "Nothing, dear." He replied smoothly.

Sharing a short fleeting kiss, he had pulled away from you. You were a bit annoyed.. he knew you've been wanting to initiate some intimate stuff in your relationship, considering you've been dating for months now! Not one sex even happened yet!

You lurch over his fingers lightly, "Love.." The small whisper you entailed. "Are you not even attracted to me–?" His eyes widened a bit, then his facade faltered a tiny bit, but hardened back again. "No, baby.. just.."

"I'm so ready..!" You whined at him, like a kid wanting a plushie. "What's stopping us?" He just glanced back down at you, "Are you serious–.."

You stroke his jaw as he holds you close, one hand on your waist, the other at your hips. "You're telling me– you've never done this before.." Your hole spasming in the cold air hovering over his pretty pink tip. "No, never.."

He couldn't believe how hard and red he was, he would always flex on other people about everything but this. He'd touch himself, yeah, but this is a whole another level for him. "t's fine.. you'll love this feeling.." You whisper.

"Ah–!" He let out a strangled moan, finding the way how you slid in so easily into him. You've stretched yourself out beforehand– sneaky minx, he thought. But he didn't mind, before you could even roll your hips.. he stabilized you.

"No, no let me– do the honors..!" He wanted to still be superior, so he did what he would logically do. Thrust upwards, fully bottoming out. "Michael–!" Your face changed– wasn't he a virgin how'd he..?

"Let me do it,, cause I want to fuck you so badly..." Michael was a vocal person that's for sure, he'd be praising you in german, as he switched both your positions. One of your legs thrown over. "...urgh.. Michael– so good.." You squirmed like a bunny in heat.

He twisted you around once again, your body facing the sheets. "Now.. just arch like that– No Liebling.. I said arch." He growled right in your ear as his palm guided you into the position he wanted. No way he was a virgin!

You've been dating the doting puppy of Kaiser a long time. Sometimes, his loyalty faltered as his purple eyes gaze right past you. Alexis Ness. He's always so sweet..

Too sweet, even for you. You really couldn't tell if he's actually genuine, sometimes.. you could tell he was annoyed by the way his eyebrows shifted, but you didn't mind.

He'd been dragging you into his apartment now that he moved out of Kaiser's place. Finally happy, you both got your own space. Both of you resting on the bed being all lovey dovey.

Your hands brushed past his light brown–purple hair, the fingertips tangled in between. He gave you a small kiss in the inner conner of your lips, his eyebrows relaxed. "Mmm, Alexis.." You whispered his name in a plea.

"What, Schatz..?" He just giggled, leaning closer as he gave a big fat kiss to your cheek. You just huffed at him as he nuzzled more. And suddenly, something clicked in you.

"Alexis Ness, are you hard?" The question popped out so suddenly, he even shuddered as he looked down in the buldge between his legs. "Oh– Scheiße.." He spouted.

Ness was about to pull away before you suddenly grasped his wrist. You stared at him and then shaked your head. You both knew you had no expertise what's so ever.. and no Kaiser around, so...

"Alexis, I want you." You mumble low enough just for him to hear. His ears turn red as he looks at you. "What– but we.." "I don't care– let's try it please..!"

"Fuck, I never done this remember.." He'd bought a pack of condoms after your pleas– as he slipped it on him, he shuddered. You were just laying on your back, staring at his pink tip. "Neither have I.." You giggled being so amused at this.

"Are you even–" "Oh my– fuck me Alexis..!" You cut him off as he approached the bed slowly, his muscular build around your soft ones. "How do I even.." He lined it up a bit, as he let out a small whine.

He slipped past your puffy lips, and he saw the way it clenched around nothing. "You're teasing..!" You whined, but he really wasn't.. he's just having such a hard time even getting it in you. "No, my love, I'm really trying here.."

And finally, just when he slipped in.. the inches entering you– yeah you were a loud mess by then. Ness wasn't the huge type.. but he had girth that's what happened..

"Oh– Alex–! mmmngh.. you're really.." He bottoms out, he looked down at his pelvis hitting against your body. He rolled his hips as you let out a scream. "Mein Herz, you're too loud.." He chuckled as he rolled again and again and again.

It was too addictive for him to stop, you knew that. The way he experimented on going slow and long thrusts then changed up to repeated and fast thrusts in a heartbeat– made even your skin flushed. He gripped the fat of your ass a bit as he felt himself getting closer..

"I dont– don't think I'm going to even last longer.. fuck just let me please..! Sonnenschein.. I'm gonna do it inside, okay!"

[lkigami]

A/N : the order the characs are placed in is how “passionate” they are abt their love for ur parts ok thank u

Titty boys

They love your boobies—sucking, biting, licking ,groping and decorating your milkies in hickies is their favorite pass time:

Why spend their day stressed when they can just squish your tiddies and cum like a virgin infront of you before practice?

Niko, Rin, Bachira, Ness, Nagi, Oliver, Kaiser

Ass enjoyers

Your ass is their stressball— they’ll spank your squishy cheeks ‘till they’re red and slap them once again to soothe the pain while planting their palm on your globes in public to assert dominance:

Pray to God forbid you find out about their face sitting fetish…

Sae, Barou, Kunigami, Raichi, Shidou, Chigiri, Kurona

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: You swore grief followed you like a cloud. Losing those who you loved at every turn, but there was one positive at least you had Bachira to turn to for comfort. But you were soon to find out the mysterious deaths surrounding you werent such a mystery afterall. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Meguru Bachira (Blue Lock) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.9k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Yandere!Bachira. ⚠️NSFW Dark Content⚠️. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Knife play, stalking, NONCON, mentions of voyeurism, gas lighting, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, blood, oral (fem!receiving), pussy slapping, degrading, mind break.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: WE DID IT YALL! We have officially made it to the end of Kinktober!! This was my first time taking a stab (hehe) at this challenge and we may have had a few hiccups along the way, but we got here! I really wanted to end this month with a bang! So this is probably the most intense of the ones on this list. For this one more than all of the others, please be mindful of the tags. This is the most intense and dark fic I’ve done this month. You are responsible for the content you consume, if this is not for you please have a look at my complete masterlist for Kinktober here. This is also my second submission for the "No, You Hang Up" Ghostface server collab that I'm hosting with our other server owner @rindous-starlight I really hope you enjoy and thank you for sticking with me through it! Merry Samhein/Happy Halloween my loves!

Bachira’s eyes were locked on you, unblinking. His gaze was so intense he was surprised that you didn’t feel it through the glass of your window. You were so trusting, but oh so naïve. Not thinking for a moment that your sweet, ditzy, neighbor had such a deep-seated obsession with you. Couldn’t imagine that nearly nightly he sat by his window, the same one that was directly across from yours, eyes locked on your frame. As you changed, danced around, scrolled through your phone, and especially late at night when you let your hands roam your body. To Bachira, in his twisted mind, this was all intentional. Because for what other reason would you, in clear view with your blinds open, let your fingers sink into your delicious cunt? To Bachira he took it as you simply teasing him. Aching for him to make the first move.

You had moved to this neighborhood nearly a year ago. And you would be lying if you said it had been an easy year. The past year had tested you to the extreme. Within only a month your long-term boyfriend went missing. You and Reo had been together for almost ten years, high school sweethearts. You didn’t know what you would do, he had been all you’ve ever known. After spending weeks worried sick, never stopping looking for him, his body had turned up in the middle of the woods. Murdered. You couldn’t imagine who could do such a thing. Bachira had happened to return to his home when you were just wrapping up talking to the police, offering you a kind smile and a warm hug.

Bachira.

You don’t know what you would have done without him this past year. He had been there for you all through your grief, comforting you every step along the way. Despite what anyone said, you were eternally grateful for the sweet man. You best friend, Karasu, hadn’t liked him. Claiming something about “the guy’s vibe being off” and that he “seemed happy with your boyfriend out of the picture”. You two had gotten into an argument that night, after telling Bachira about your squabble the next day you were certain he was right.

Karasu had never liked Reo, claiming you could do so much better. That he and his best friend Nagi’s relationship was weird. But, no, Bachira was right he was projecting. Projecting that Bachira was the one happy Re was out of the picture when it was really him. That didn’t mean that he deserved what happened to him, however. You spent too many nights lying awake relaying the last conversation you both had on repeat. Screaming back and forth before he stormed out. Sure he had been so nasty to Bachira, who all he wanted was to be there for you, but he didn’t deserve…

He didn’t deserve to die.

Enough time had passed since Reo’s passing that you had begun to consider moving on. After Reo, and now Karasu, your late boyfriend’s best friend had begun checking on you more frequently. You weren't sure how it happened, maybe because you were missing Reo and being with Nagi felt like there was still a piece of him left behind. The both of you seek comfort in each other, eventually escalating, blossoming into a bit of an arrangement. The both of you weren't dating by any means, more seeking a body to keep the bed (and your cunt) warm. And it was working, going so well. It was nice having Nagi around, a familiar face you had known for so many years. Not having to rely on Bachira so much.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the sweet man’s presence, but you were starting to feel guilt for leaning on him so heavily. Bachira had been there for you through both tragedies this past year, now being your only friend in the world with the recent developments in you and Nagi’s relationship. When you had moved here, it was a distance away from your family. Having moved here to be closer to Reo’s work. Karasu was a good enough friend that he had found an apartment nearby, not wanting you to be so far away with no one. But, with him gone now too, it seemed like all you had was Bachira and Nagi. You were so grateful for Bachira’s presence, so lucky to have him in your life.

But oh how wrong had you been.

You wished you had listened to Karasu, that you had never moved here in the first place. Not as your feet slammed against the hardwood of the spacious home left to you in Reo’s absence. Not as you had come home that day to see your couch stained in his blood, his lifeless body being hovered over by the mysterious masked killer. And certainly not as the same man chased you throughout your home, his manic laughter seeming all too familiar. Once you were sure you had put enough distance between you both you ran toward your bedroom, slipping inside your closet.

That had been your first mistake.

The hand you had clamped over your mouth must have not been doing its job well enough

“Come on out, honeybee. I just wanna talk. I promise I wont hurt you, I’d never hurt you. I love you.”

You froze in place where you were hidden, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening …Bachira?

You let out an audible gasp, in hindsight that was most likely what had led him to your hiding spot. You let out a scream as the closet door is thrown open, mask discarded from his face now, allowing you to take him in. Crazed look in those honey-colored eyes you had grown to feel so safe when looking into, now causing bile to rise in your throat. Blood staining his hands and smeared on his cheek. Knife tossed aside somewhere on the bed as he collects you into his arms. An embrace where you once felt safe, now making you feel trapped, fear creeping up your spine. You let out a full body shudder as his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck.

“There you are my honey bee. Are you done hiding from me now?” His words come out muffled against your skin, tears pricking the back of your eyes.

“Bachira…why?”

His grip tightens on your figure, surely displeased with your words. His hand coming to your face in a harsh grip, eyes narrowed when looking into yours.

“Meguru.” He nearly growls. “You call me Meguru. People who are in love call each other by their first names. Now say it.”

You let out a hush whimper of his name and that seems to snap him back into his bubbly personality. Before you could comprehend what was happening his lips collided with yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Walking you backward until your knees hit the back of the mattress, causing you to fall back your body hitting the plush mattress with hm still on top of you You whimper, low and in the back of your throat, weakly trying to push him off of you.

“Please… Meguru, stop.”

This seems to upset him one again, his fingers curling around the bladed weapon that lay discarded on your mattress. You felt the cold blade caress the side of your face, cold metal, sliding down the column of your throat. His lips pressed to your ear as he speaks.

“It’s a shame what happened to your boyfriend.” Bachira purred, hand still coated in Nagi’s blood, caressing the side of your face. “All those muscles didn’t help much.”

You feel sick to your stomach, the knife against your throat a reminder of what could happen if you continue to disobey him. You shudder as his hand moves swiftly, cutting through the fabric of your dress and bra, eyes locked on your now-exposed chest. Hearing is mumbled ‘so beautiful. Before he ducked down, capturing one of your nipples between his soft lips. The hand not still holding the knife thumbs your neglected bud to a peak before pinching it between blood-stained digits. With every touch to your skin, more of the evidence of what he had down stains your body. He pays attention to your sensitive buds, grinding his hips into your own. You know you should feel appalled, feel disgusted that the very man who had caused you so much grief was on top of you. Touching you.

So why did it feel so good?

Why did you crave more of his touch?

Why were your hips meeting his own?

Perhaps it had been because it had been a while since you had been touched like this. Nagi found most things to be a hassle, often falling asleep almost immediately after he came. Whatever the reason you were mortified to find yourself craving more. Allowing him to slip your clothes properly off of your body. Not fighting when his lips traveled down your frame. And certainly not when he used his index and middle fingers parted your folds so he cold duck his head down and lick a fat stripe up your soaked cunt. Bachira’s body had a visceral reaction to your taste, burying his face in your cunt, his tongue alternating between licking fat stripes against your clit to pointed circles tracing shapes against the bundle of nerves. His hips grind desperately against the mattress in search of friction to his achingly hard cock. But his head was too pussy drunk already, your taste having his eyes rolling back in his head, eating you like a man starved. Like his life depended on the sustenance of your juices.

He leans back after a moment, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives back down, burying this face into your folds once more. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in.

Hands gripping your waist tighter than before, which you were sure would leave imprints, if not bruises on your skin in the morning. Lips attach to your clit, tongue flicking rapidly, only pausing to occasionally bite or suck on the sensitive flesh. Your hips pick up speed, practically riding his tongue as your hips buck against his face. The familiar feeling of warmth spreads throughout your stomach, your body hurtling toward your orgasm at an alarming rate. Bachira feels your thighs spasm, both hands now gripping your ass, to pull your cunt down further onto his face, head bobbing to coax you into cumming for him. You release with a scream, thighs trapping his head between your legs, only releasing once you’ve come done from your high. Your chest rising and falling with heavy pats, not noticing Bachira throwing the cloak off of his body, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. Only snapping back into reality as you feel the drag of his cock between your folds, the tip of him nudging your entrance, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Now, be a good girl and scream for me, yeah?”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[nicxl333]

October 3rd - ITOSHI SAE

“how many times do i have to fill you up for you to get there’s no one but you. ‘m gonna keep going till you understand.”

content: 18+, nsfw, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, spanking, rough sex, argument, afab! reader

☆彡

“it was nothing? so why the fuck am i seeing another girl pressed up against you in the tabloids?!”

you threw your bag onto the side table by the entrance of your penthouse, storming in with sae in your wake. you were beyond fuming, and he knew it. you turned to face him, hand on your hip.

“if it was nothing why weren’t you phased by it? better yet, why would you even neglect to tell me you were doing a photoshoot with a model? you’ve never had a problem telling me prior, so why not now?!”

sae toed off his shoes and released the tie from around his neck, allowing a slight amount of solace to ease the rising tension in the room.

“i already told you, the crew didn’t tell me until i was on set with her. everything in that photoshoot was for the purpose of my contract with this brand. i had no say in it whether you like it or not.”

“whether i like it or- sae! can’t you understand how that makes me feel? whether or not you didn’t know prior, why am i having to find out through the tabloids? you had every and all opportunity to tell me after your shoot was done.”

you took a step closer to him, until you were right in front of him. it’s a shame you were arguing really, because he looked so delectable staring down at you. the way his chest rose and fell, the notes of his cedarwood cologne wafting through your nostrils, the stray strand of hair falling over his piercing eyes.

if you were to reenact what was playing out in your mind right now, it would most certainly be the image of his thick, veiny cock drilling into your sopping wet cavity. alas, he just had to be a dickhead.

“you say i’m the only one, but why are you constantly in the news, paired up with another girl, yet i’m the one hidden away. why should i be made to feel like i’m always competing for you?”

he matched your energy, taking one minuscule step, so that you were almost chest to chest, your clothes partially kissing every once in a while. his right hand raised to your chin, tilting your head upwards, capturing your attention in a ethereal whirlwind. his cologne was intoxicating now, making you slightly dizzy. your heart picked up moderately, pulsing in anxious anticipation wondering what he would do next. one thing about sae, he was unpredictable, so as of right now, you were unsure of where this argument was heading.

he leaned down, so that he was mere millimetres away from your lips. your heart was thudding now, which lead you to wonder if he could potentially hear it too. he was close, too close. if you swayed even just slightly forward, your lips would just about tou-

“distracted? i’m talking to you y’know.”

him and his smart mouth.

dazed, you stepped away from him slightly, to insert some distance and reclaim some authority.

“the media will always make things out differently to what they actually are, you know that much.” he started walking towards you, while you started walking backwards. this continued until you hit the wall of the hallway, just adjacent to the door of your bedroom. both hands at either end sealed you in between him, no escape from his intoxicating presence. he leaned in once again, whispering to you this time.

“you think there’s competition? i’ll show you why you’re wrong.”

before you could say anything, his lips captured yours, his right hand gravitating downwards to lift your left leg and wrap it around his waist. your dress rose up enough for your underwear to be slightly exposed to him. you kissed him back, your tongue entangling his in a slow and sensual dance. one hand placed itself on his chest, feeling his chiseled abs underneath, while the other wrapped around the back of his neck, pressing him further into you.

it was wet, it was hot, it was sloppy, but all you could think about was how you wanted, how you needed more.

to make matters worse, you could feel the tent in his black dress pants pressing up against your partially soaked underwear. in a bout of pettiness from him essentially deflecting from the argument, you pushed yourself against it, inciting a low groan from sae, although swallowed by your tongue enveloping his once more. in response, his hand left your thigh, travelling under your dress, and gripped your ass, causing you to moan out in a mixture of shock and arousal.

“jump.”

you followed his command, releasing any reservations about how things turned out and essentially dismissing the previous fucks you had.

his hands supported your body weight, and led you to your shared bedroom, placing you down with ever so tender loving care. he slid your dress off, your underwear following. he then pushed you down so you lay on your back, although you rose slightly and rested on your elbows to see what he was doing. you watched on as he hovered over your breasts, lowering his lips to the left one, and rolling his tongue over the hardened pebble. your body seized up in impatient pleasure as his lips enclosed over the nipple, giving it a long, hard suck. he made sure not to derive the other of any attention, his left hand fondling the other one as he satisfied you. your soft moans filled the room, your empty, wet pussy throbbing in want.

“sae. i need more.”

in an instantaneous response you felt his left hand snaking down towards your cunt, spreading your folds and slowly circling your bud. the motion was light and slow, a long method of torture to your impeding orgasm. sae knew this too, but he loved seeing you like this, falling apart in front of his eyes and writhing for more. reason being it reminded him of the exact reason why no other girl would ever compare to you. the way your eyesbrows would knit up, your soft whines indicating how sensitive you were, how your back arched when you came and you would turn your face to the side. no one could do it like you, not even close.

his long fingers slipped into your wet pussy with no restraint, immediately curling upwards and thrusting. his fingers were so free flowing that even though you were his first experience, it made you wonder if he somehow had more than he was letting on. you moaned out, legs threatening to shut. he was one step ahead of you however, prying them back open and increasing the intensity of his strokes.

“it shouldn’t have to take me fucking you like this for you to realise you’re the only one for me. you think i’d do this for anyone else? fat chance in hell.”

“but you don’t express yourself sae, how am i supposed to know?” you whined. “i just wanna have my boyfriend to myself, is that such a problem?” the end of your sentence came out high pitched, thanks to sae quickly leading you to an orgasm. your back arched and your pussy tightened on his fingers, restricting them from moving any further.

“i never said it is, but i’ve told you there is no one else. i get i should’ve told you beforehand, but i’ve never given you any reason to believe otherwise.”

he pulled his fingers out, your cum spinning webs around them. he raised them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact while he sucked off your secretion, swallowing shortly after. he then leaned down to kiss you, his hand wrapping around your neck to hold you in place. your hand in response reached down, feeling up the tent in his pants. you needed his dick inside you now, stretching you out to a point where you couldn’t think, let alone say anything.

“sae, please, please, just give it to me. stop playing around.”

“impatient much?”

“you’re so mean.” you whined.

he rose to his feet, unbuckling his belt to lower his trousers and free his restrained cock. it was pink, angry and begging for attention. the veins were extremely prominent, branching out all over. to top it all off, the tip was glistening with pre-cum, dribbling out slightly each time his cock pulsated, matched to the rhythm of his heartbeat. no matter how many times you had sex, every-time his heart never failed to race with the thrill of sinking into you.

“turn around.”

you followed his instruction, knowing you were about to get fucked up. you decided to play into it, arching just how he liked, ass all out on display.

he lined himself up and gave you an experimental rub with his dick. just to see how bad you really needed it. you whined once more, your ass automatically pushing to meet his dick. it was then he realised he reached his limit.

he pushed into you with a strangled grunt. you were hot, scorching even - most of all tight. your cunt immediately enveloped his dick in a strangulating hug. he had to stop himself, couldn’t carry on. if he did, he felt like he would cum. he could feel himself throbbing violently. it scared him. this time was different. who knows if it was the product of your fresh argument, but this time brought about a whole new sense of responsibility, possession he had over you. the kind of possession that told him to fill you up over and over again.

his thoughts were shattered to smithereens when you to fuck yourself on him, deciding to take matters into your own hands. your thrusts were so powerful that such an esteemed soccer player like him (who’s duty was to score and defend against grown men), was struggling to hold form. you moaned out in overwhelming ecstasy, and it was then he realised that you were going to make yourself cum whether he did anything or not. he pulled out till just the tip remained, and pushed back in with a heave. you arched into him, a chill running down the entirety of your spine. he set immediately into a rhythm, fucking you with harsh passion and precision. no stroke was different, each one hitting that exact spot that had you squirming. you cried out in pure bliss, your eyes pricking tears as you struggled to keep composed at the sheer power of his thrusts. he grabbed both of your hands, crossing them behind your back, using them as leverage to drill into you harder.

“you think i’d ever give anyone else the satisfaction of feeling what you’re feeling right now? you think anyone could ever come close?”

you didn’t answer him. you physically couldn’t. he was actively rendering you incapacitated, draining any sort of strength you could have to refute him. he didn’t like the silence though, his right palm raising, and striking your left cheek. your body jolted in pain and arousal, your pussy clenching around him tighter than ever before.

“answer me. you had every bit of energy to accuse me, but now you want to be silent?”

“no one sae! there’s no one else! only me!”

“good, good girl. now be quiet and take my dick. arch your back further and let me make you cum again.”

you did what he asked while he angled himself differently to hit your g-spot specifically. from this alone you knew you were about to cum again. your back arched, your grip on sae strengthened and a bolt of electricity ran through your spine. sae powered right on through your orgasm, even having the audacity to speed up.

he started throbbing once again, his limits bursting out. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, softly groaning while his pace turned sloppy and irregular. you felt yourself becoming full as he filled you up to the brim with ropes of his cum.

you breathed a sigh of relief while the mixture of yours and sae’s cum started to drop out of you. all was silent for a moment and you thought he was done with, until you realised he was still hard.

it was at that moment, he rose up, grabbing your hips and giving you one hard thrust that shook the whole bed. you moaned out in surprise, shock and pure overstimulation.

“you should know by now that there’s no one but you y/n. i don’t know how you don’t realise no one comes close. how many times do i have to fill you up for you to get there’s no one but you. ‘m gonna keep going till you understand.”

please note: hi guys, i just wanted to say this is not proof read. something came up last minute today so i had to decide between not posting today or just posting it now and making my adjustments at a later time. my word is my word though so here is my first kinktober oneshot! enjoy <3

[h3rmess]

SL*T ME OUT

Written by @h3rmess ✰ | KINKTOBER (late entry)

"eat the d*** like you was ugly" ☆

After the U-20 match, oliver and the others decide to go out and have some fun. They go to a karaoke booth to let loose and forget about their loss. Oliver wants you to help him blow off some steam in a different way...

notes : this was meant to be for kinktober but I forgot to upload... I love aiku so so much!! I literally started screaming when I saw him in episode 5

WARNINGS : oliver aiku x fem!reader, oral (m receiving), facefucking, masturbation (f), picture taking, semi-public oral sex???, pet names, praise, swearing, no relationship (that's how aiku is ☹️)

"Where is he?" You whispered, holding your phone in your hand as you walked away from the arcade, into the area where the karaoke booths were.

You kept checking your phone in case a text from him magically appeared, hoping that he would come to save you from this bewilderment.

"Wow, look at that!" A low, husky voice spoke from behind you, forcing you to turn around abruptly.

Hands in the pockets of his kit and leaning against the wall, he offered you an irresistible smirk that made your heart race.

"Really went all out for me, huh?" He commented, observing the short, body-con dress you wore. In this setting, you looked like you belonged in a club.

He took a step towards you, standing up properly once more as he towered over you, your chin lifted behind comfort to meet his gaze.

"Oliver!" You exclaimed with a smile. "How was the match? I didn't get time to check the end results."

He rubbed the back of his neck with a solemn sigh, "We lost..."

Your expression displayed remorse as you pulled him into a hug. "You played amazingly, though. I was so proud to see you on the screen. You were definitely remarkable." You spoke, recalling his outstanding plays.

"Hmm, yeah... I'm still super bummed though. I thought we were gonna win." He pouted as he looked away.

"You seem pretty upset..." You spoke softly.

"I am. That's why I wanted to see you." He looked back at you slowly.

"Huh?"

"Y'know, I've been so stressed lately. I've had way too much practice and not enough time to...unwind." He tried to mask his smirk with a sombre look, but you saw through it.

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?" You questioned, knowing exactly what he was implying.

"Well, you're here, all pretty and dolled up. Let's not let it go to waste." He looked at you, his eyes predatory.

"What are you suggesting we do?" You prompted, your heart rate increasing as you became more nervous. Your palms began to excrete sweat as he leaned in closer to you.

"How about we ruin that makeup of yours, huh?" He grinned, his hands suddenly groping your waist.

"And how exactly... do you plan on doing that?" You felt breathless as you huffed out a response.

"Acting dumb are we now, baby? Why don't I fuck that mouth of yours so we don't have any more stupid responses?" His straightforward suggestion left your stomach tumbling, a new pulse being formed in your womanhood.

You were lost for words as he took you by your arm and dragged you into the booth, shutting the door.

"I told the others to get here in 30 minutes. That should be enough time." He sat down, looking up at you with a stern glance.

"Whatcha waiting for? On your knees." He commanded as you complied immediately, his voice forcing you into submission.

"That's a good girl..." He smiled as he stroked your face. You nuzzled into his touch, his huge hands bringing you comfort. He brushed his thumb carefully over your lips, slightly smearing the pink, shimmery gloss on them. You sat patiently on your knees, waiting for his next move.

Looking up with lusful eyes, you let his thumb slip into your mouth. Your face heated up slightly with embarrassment as you tried your best to maintain eye contact.

He removed his thumb from your mouth and lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his once more. He let go, his hands reaching for his waistband. He lowered his slacks slightly, allowing him to slip himself out of his confinement.

His dick hit his abdomen instantly as he hissed, clearly needy as the pre-cum dripped down his swollen tip.

His hand gripped his member carefully as he pumped his length for a while, his breath becoming heavier by the second.

Your cheek was hit with a slap from his dick as he smirked down at you, infatuated by the size difference. You both wondered how you were meant to fit all of him in your mouth.

"Open up, doll." He commanded, his tip nearing your mouth. You followed his order, immediately being met by the bitter yet intoxicating taste of his arousal.

Your jaw slackened to accommodate his size, which was proving quite difficult.

Gripping your hair gently, he pushed your head forward, your face nearing his base. Tears began to form in your eyes as you gagged and choked slightly, overwhelmed by his huge size.

He pushed himself fully into your mouth with a grunt, his inability to hold back becoming clear.

"Fuck..." He said with clenched teeth. "Taking me so well, aren't ya? Putting that... ah- pretty mouth to good use, huh?" His thrusts started to hit deeper, increasing in speed. His words and actions did nothing but add fuel to the fire, igniting a feeling in you that you couldn't resist giving into.

Saliva leaked from the corners of your mouth as you choked around him, his thrusts relentless. You noticed some of your lip gloss on his base, which somehow turned you on even more.

His grunts and moans became more frequent as his pumped into your warm mouth even harder, throwing his head back slightly.

"Fuck...'m so close, baby... Gonna be a doll and take it? Gonna swallow everything I give to you?" He questioned, maintaining eye contact the entire time. You hummed around his cock, your hand reaching into your panties to gain some relief as your clit throbbed.

Your mind became hazy as you stopped thinking, completely submitting to Oliver and your growing lust. Your pussy was leaking. You dragged some of your arousal from your empty hole to your clit, rubbing it at a pace that instantly caused you to start moaning.

Oliver chuckled and then threw his head back, your vibrations sending him closer and closer to the edge. His grip on your head became more firm, his thrusts hitting deeper than ever before.

"Mmm, baby, I'm gonna- fuckkk..." He could barely form a sentence which made you laugh when you thought back to this moment ; not that you would've done any better.

You never stopped stimulating your nerves. You felt a warmth building as your stomach felt knotted. You kept playing with yourself as he used your mouth.

"Keep touching your little pussy... just like that." He forced out, speaking to you proving difficult as he almost reached his high.

You looked up at him, your makeup smeared, your eyes teary and lidded. That was all it took. His thrusts became sloppy as he let loose, his head thrown all the way back, moans escaping him like never before.

His liquid poured into your mouth, sitting on your tongue, filling you up. He came a lot. His thrusts continued for a while as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Don't swallow yet, princess."

You blindly obliged.

"Can I take a picture? You look so pretty like this."

And for some bizarre reason, those were the words that made you cum. You nodded, holding him and his juices in your mouth as you shook, your eyes rolling back slightly. You whined and whimpered as you saw a bright flash come from Oliver's phone. Your vision was blurry, obscured by tears as you stopped your relentless torture on your pussy.

You tried to calm your breathing as Oliver spoke.

"Open your mouth."

You did as he said, watching him posting his phone to take another picture. His dick was still in your mouth. After taking the picture, he removed his half-hard dick from your opening.

"I'm gonna take a video now, okay?" You hummed in response.

He pressed record, his hand reaching down to grip your cheeks, squishing them in a way that forced your mouth open. You whimpered slightly at his sudden movement.

"Look at how pretty she is." He spoke, the camera focusing on your eye makeup that was far beyond saving.

"Holding my cum in her mouth just like I asked her to." He grinned down at you.

"Swallow it." He commanded, the camera still rolling. You closed your mouth to swallow with a gulp, reopening it to prove you had done as he asked.

"Such a good girl..." He let go of your face, grabbing his dick once more.

"Lick it clean for me, doll."

You immediately started licking, as if you were hungry for it.

His phone remained in your face, but at this point, you didn't care.

Your tongue made its way along his length, being sure to capture any left over cum on it. You stuck your tongue out, moving it up to his tip as you looked straight into the camera.

"Fuck... don't do that. You're gonna make me hard again." His dick twitched slightly.

And yet, you continued until all of his mess was cleaned up, letting go of his dick that was now almost fully hard again.

He stopped recording.

"I'm gonna get you back for this... Just you wait." He remarked.

You smiled at him as he helped you up onto your feet again.

"You'd better go home. I mean, unless you want anyone seeing you in this state. " He suggested. Typical of him.

You reached into your handbag, pulling out some make-up wipes to clean the mess he had left your face in.

Meanwhile, Oliver unlocked his phone, a notification appearing, telling him that the boys were outside.

"Shit, they're here." He panicked slightly as you finished up, turning towards him.

He placed a short kiss on your lips. "See you soon, beautiful. I'll be messaging you, so don't you dare turn off your phone, got that?"

"Okay. Bye, Oliver." You waved, leaving before his teammates could make it into the booth.

Oliver Aiku was such a dog... and yet, you couldn't help but come back for more.

[sluttyangy]

⟢ Synopsis : Shidou can’t keep his tongue inside his mouth whenever he gives you affection. ♡

⟢ Notes : First writing for that beautiful and slutty man that I love sooooo much !! As y’all can tell i’m pretty obsessed with how he always has his tongue outttt so I had to indulge ♡

It was usual for you to feel hands sliding on your neck and your shoulders whenever you were seated on the couch, on a kitchen stool, at your desk, or wherever Shidou could come up behind you. He always came to watch whatever you were doing, putting his tanned arms around you and leaning his head against yours, or resting it on your shoulder. He was always so interested in your activities, always asking so much questions. He wanted to know, to understand, to help you.

« What are you doing love ? »

« Mh.. nothing special.. just working a bit »

« Ah.. that’s annoying.. good luck then, cupcake. »

His voice was unusually soft, giving you some courage to continue working. And this was always coupled with his physical affection. He would always pamper you with kisses, everywhere where he could reach your skin. Your nape, your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks, and of course, your soft lips. You would always feel his own lips lingering on you, pressing small pecks. But everytime, it didn’t miss. Shidou would start slightly opening his lips, letting the tip of his tongue touch your skin. You could feel it, his hot breath and his mushy, wet tongue lap at your skin. His small touches would turn into full, raspy laps, his fingers running over you.

« Ryuseiii.. Come on.. stop acting like you’re a cat or something mh ? »

« You taste so good.. How could I stop ? Plus, I know you like this~ »

And Shidou wasn’t lying, he knew you well enough to know that, in a way, you loved his lusty touch. You could feel his lips suck at your skin, his drool making your skin glisten as his hand moved under your chin, grabbing it. He pulled you to face him, holding your chin up towards him. He felt his heart pounding, loving the way you looked so infatuated with him. He always loved to feel your soft skin under his tongue, just like a full snack that only belonged to him. Shidou was a very prideful man, and he was always so proud that you were his, that he had to prove it. This meant leaving marks on you, but also tasting you to prove it to himself. He gave you his famous smirk, raising an eyebrow.

« See ? You like it.~ »

Shidou leaned down to your height, his mouth hovering over yours without giving in, keeping the pleasure of feeling him from you. He chuckled, looking at you with his hot pink eyes, his blonde eyelashes fluttering as he finally gave you the satisfaction you were seeking for. His hungry lips met yours, immediately locking in.

But don’t forget, Ryusei loves control. And he keeps it. You feel his tongue force it’s way into your mouth, touching yours, feeling every single part of your mouth as his hand is still keeping you under his grasp. Shidou loves to have you like this, to have you at his mercy as he’s able to do whatever he wants.

He tilted his head to the side, seeking to go even further, drool wetting both of your lips, dripping down your chins when you pull back for a second to get your breath, before one of you immediately goes back for more. Your tongues love each other as much as you two do, and it always shows. Shidou’s hands finally let go of your chin, only to end up going to your waist and pressing his fingers in your skin. His mouth lets go of yours, sliding back down to your neck and your collarbone.

And this man, this man can never keep his tongue in his mouth. He can never keep his tongue to himself. He needs to taste you whenever he can, wherever he can.

[loluzzz]

Kiss like you mean it!

Micheal Kaiser Actor AU

cw: hate kissing (???), dry humping, slight exhibition (filming), msub! fdom!

word count: 1.5k

a/n : there WILL be a part two soon i just have to get exams out of the way. not proof read btw so i apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Working with Kaiser has been unbearable. He always has something to complain about you. “you’re too stiff.” “Lean in more.” “open your mouth wider.” you can’t help it that this is the first time you ever had to act out explicit scenes. you guys were casted to act out an affair in a romance drama. you tried everything to be polite to Kaiser when you guys first met but he seemed indifferent towards you. He really could care less who you are. By the time you guys had to go act out the scenes it would always lead to arguing & disagreements among the actors and crew members. you tried your best to hold your tongue. this would really give you a leg up in the film industry. you wanted to be kind to everyone around you but it’s hard knowing Kaiser was there to dim your light.

“I had enough of this. Just follow me lead liebling.” He took your hand and placed it on his neck. He leans down more to reach your lips. you felt like you were falling as he kept moving you around. it causes you to jolt and stand up quickly to prevent yourself from hitting the ground. Kaiser smacked his lip in irritation. “If you weren’t so difficult to work with, we would have been done an hour ago.” He sneered. “I wasn’t ready! I felt like I was about to fall!” you retorted back. “You’re in a love scene, and you weren’t ready?” He said, stand up so he can meet you at your level. “We’ve been doing this for the past hour now, if that little thing spooked you then you’re not cut out for this.” He chided, arms crossed with disapproval.

That last line hurt. How could he say that when you’ve put everything you had into acting. He just doesn’t know you well enough to comment. This leads to another one of your back and forth arguments. “I’d work better if my costar wouldn’t approach me like some middle scholar getting their first kiss!” His eyes twitched in annoyance from your remark. “You’re seriously blaming me?” He asked incredulously. “You don’t even know how to use your damn tongue. You’re worse than the newbie I worked with two years ago.” He replied almost smugly. “You use way too much! I can’t tell if you want to kiss or eat me!” He looked absolutely insulted and appalled at your response. “Are you for real?” He said in disbelief. “This is nothing. I’ve done a lot more than this and you’re the one complaining?” He scoffed. “If anything you’re the one acting like a prude.” He bit out.

Before you could spit out another comeback, the director had just about enough of the bickering. “Enough!” The director yelled out, shutting them down. They’re supposed to be deeply in love in this scene yet it’s hard to showcase it with all the hate they care for one another. Both you and Kaiser look up. “Just take 5.” the director suggested “If you don’t get this last shot right we’re done for the day.” The two of you walked away. You needed your space to just relax. It’s just one scene. You’ll be home free once it’s over. Why does someone with such a pretty face have such an ugly personality? That made it all the more disappointing. As you get your makeup touched up, your makeup artist suggests you guys make up through hate sex. The makeup artist leaned in closer to you, speaking in a hushed and conspiratorial tone. “Hate sex is exactly as the name suggests. You hate each other, and you release your anger by well… Doing the deed.” she told you. “It’ll probably help you guys relax, especially considering how you two have been since this project started.”

At first the idea repulsed you. Sleeping with someone you hate? How would that even be enjoyable? wouldn’t it just be low effort and dull? on one hand you couldn’t see it ever working out considering how stubborn Kaiser is. On the other hand, you wouldn’t mind him just taking you. You guys fit so well together. He took care of himself meaning he always smelt so nice, his body well toned, the palm of his hands and how they perfectly fit on the sides of your waist. You can hate someone and still find them attractive right? The idea spun around your mind so much it became nauseating. You couldn’t think about it any longer as you were called up to get back on set and continue the scene. Kaiser was already there, waiting for you with the most cocky grin on his face.

As you walked up, he sat back down on the couch. There was a slight pause of silence between the both of you. He exhaled and spoke up first. “Ready?” He asked, glancing at you and noticing the scowl on your face. He raised a brow slightly, and then chuckled lowly. “Looking mad already?” He teased. You just wanted to get this done and over with. You carefully placed yourself on his lap, making sure to sit directly on his bulge. He would even go as far as grabbing the sides of your hips and making sure you were positioned properly on top of him. He instinctively held you in place as he looked up at you. He smirked faintly. “No pouting this time,” he told you. ”We need to get this done.”

You leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck and before you were even ordered to start, you started to kiss him slowly and gently. Your lips moved softly against him in a very sensual manner. Kaiser’s eyes widened at the sudden kiss, but quickly relaxed into it after a few seconds. His grip on your hips tightened as he began to kiss back in turn, matching your slower pace. He closed his eyes, a part of his brain still questioning whether or not it’s in the script for you to kiss him so suddenly but it was quickly overridden by the pleasure. You wanted to take it up a notch. This was your way of getting back at him for all the times he has degraded, humiliated and attempted to humble you while working with him.

You slowly move your hips across his lap, pressing your clothed cunt up against his bulge. The friction between your two sexes felt so good, it caused Kaiser to let out a high pitched moan involuntarily. That sound slipped out so easily that it almost surprised even himself. It was low, and guttural, as if it had been pulled out of the most primal places in his brain. He instinctively pulled you closer against him, letting out another low moan in response as his tongue slipped out to meet yours. He gently squeezed your hips and gilded you against his print. The feeling of you against him, the heat and moistness of your clothed pussy driving him crazy that he’s almost desperate for more. However you’re limited for the time being. You continued to press yourself further and deeper into his print, feeling the tip of cock press up against the thin fabric of your panties. It was addicting. Having him so weak for you when a few minutes ago he questioned your ability of being a good actress. Little did he know he was the one being played and was just a side character in your movie.

He finally pulled back from the kiss just barely to gasp for air, his breaths hot against your skin as his lips ghosted over your jawline before gently trailing kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck. He wanted more. He was going to get more until you guys were startled by the director. “CUT! Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. PERFECT. We finally got it. Thank the heavens we got it!” Although the scene was up, the desire still lingers. You guys look at each other as you pant. You wipe off the saliva that was left over on your lips right in front of him. cleaning up the mess he made. Kaiser was staring at you, breathing a bit heavier now after what just happened. He leaned his head back to let out a deep exhale, running a hand over his hair to try and recollect himself and his thoughts.

“Bout damn time…” he said, watching you get up from his lap and fix yourself. You didn’t want to make it seem like you enjoyed all that much as he did. He would find a way to criticize you about that as well. You simply said “Good work” before walking off the set, remaining calm and collected as if you both weren’t on the verge of climax. He let his gaze linger on you as you walked away, the sight of your figure from behind now imprinted in his mind. He took another moment to lean his head back and steady his breathing. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so affected by that kiss— the longest and most ‘natural’ one he’s had with you since shooting this project. After a few more seconds, he got up from the chair with an exhale, running a hand through his hair once more. “What a woman…” he mumbled to himself. The hunt continues.

[vmlnrzmp4]

nsfw

kaiser eased back on the couch. legs relaxed and spread as he tapped his thigh for you. you reached to unzip your skirt but he interrupts, "keep that pretty skirt and stockings on."

a bit surprised, you still follow, slipping your panties off as you straddle his thigh, a small sigh escaping out of your lips.

you shifted your position slightly, resting your hands on his shoulders for balance as you began to move in a gentle rhythm.

"mihya...please help,"

he simple shook his head with a smirk. "c'mon give me a show. i ain't helping" kaiser chuckles at your pathetic grinding, clearly enjoying the moment.

you shifted tiredly, moving without any clear pattern. your eyes shut tight as you throw back your head, attempting to move faster, yet failing miserably.

"aw angel," he coos, licking his lips as his hand reaches up your skirt, only to see hickeys on that portion of your thigh—given by him in the previous session, "fuck."

"mihya, please..."

when finally he sees tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, he leans closer, kissing you on your forehead, "you did good angel," he whispers, "let me guide you now," he guided you smoothly, adjusting your position so that you were more comfortablely.

he holds onto your hips, making you move back and forth properly, praising you. "that's it angel, c'mon."

he can't see, nor can you as your skirt covers the intimate act. but the both of you can feel. when he guides, and as you grind. when you cum and as he feels your cum ooze through the fabric of his grey sweats to his bare thigh.

[nekomanager]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ♡ NAGI SEISHIRO

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, creampie for @peachwineandsunshine ◇ red room event (closed)

You’re so soft. Like a pillow against his muscular body, helpless atop his lap. Your bouncy ass slapping his thighs. His strong arms were wrapped around you as he jerked his hips upwards, his hard cock hitting your gushy pussy deep. His other hand traveled to cup your breast. Fuck! It made him harden at your softness even more. You’re so goddamn squishy and he had a tit in his hand like a stress ball.

How did things come to do this? Nagi was just playing a mobile game a while ago and now he couldn’t help himself from the feeling of your fluffy cunt squeezing his rock hard dick so fucking tight. He’s so helpless. Completely losing grasp of control just to squish you, the so goddamn adorable you, that he couldn’t put it in any other way but to rail you until you melt in his firm hold.

“Sei~” you mewled, and his forehead buried at the back of your neck, sweat dripping from the side of his face.

Can’t get enough. Can’t get enough. Can’t get enough. He, then, knelt you on the floor that you were now in all-fours as he was on his knees. He grabbed a hold of your waist as he pounded hard against you. His cock kissing your womb with how deep he was digging.

Nagi leaned closer on you. His huffs were endless, and thrusts roughened as he felt it coming. He knew you’d be reaching yours with the way your walls began convulsing around him. Your minds felt like in an endless daze, and all you could do was keep the pressure until you’re there. There! There! There—

“Y/N!” His voice, in a desperate and breathless whisper when you trembled in his arms.

“Oh, Sei...” you moaned when you felt his hot milk filling you up.

Both of you caught your breath. Nagi rested his on your shoulder. His arms tenderly remained around your plush frame. God...You’re so soft. So soft it makes him hard.

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[moechies]

karasu and his violent and nasty size kink ♡

yes, he will cum the moment you tell him he’s too big and it hurts. he doesn’t mean to but god — you’re too damn cute with the way you’re squealing and pressing at his abdomen. as if you would have any chance to push him away even if you wanted to.

yes, he’ll apologize briefly but no, he won’t be pulling out. if anything, he’ll just use his spurts of sticky nut as extra lubricant to make things easier for you!

yes, he’ll kiss you all over to distract you from the gruesome stretch. your pussy struggles to accommodate even his tip, groaning when you’re shaking your head and begging for mercy.

yes, he’ll take this chance to pull out and re-prep you, only because you look so cute. with your big doe eyes, round and watery with your fluttery lashes batting at him. your cheeks all blushed and your bottom lip tucked under his teeth — he’ll take mercy on you this one time. but if you quit on him again, he’ll just have to utilize that pretty mouth of yours.

yes, he’s quick to scissor his middle and ring finger inside your swollen pussy to help you prepare for his cock. he’s just that nice! his thumb rubs at your clit, helping you get off and he can’t help but feel a tad jealous when his cock is sitting against his thigh, lacking of simulation and warmth.

yes, karasu grins from ear to ear when you finally whisper a meek, ‘think ‘m ready,” so sweetly. he lines himself up with your pretty slit once again, gaping and leaking slightly from his crude preparations, and slides his rudy cock head up and down your slit.

“forcing it in through a tiny hole, huh . . that’s hot.” ♡

karasu mumbles when he finally presses himself in, guttural moans leaving his parted lips.

[prettyboykatsuki]

ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.

they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.

☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young

maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.

PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..

[ NINE]  

A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.  

The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”  

You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”  

“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”  

You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite. 

You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.  

You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.  

You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.  

 Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.  

You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.  

Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.  

“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”  

You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…” 

Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.  

“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.  

Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.  

“What’re you reading?”  

His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again. 

“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”  

“Am I in trouble?”  

He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”  

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”  

Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better. 

“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”  

_ 

When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return. 

 Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.  

Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.  

After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.  

Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal. 

“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”  

 You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.  

“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’ 

“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”  

He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.  

__  

After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.  

You find this to be very strange for several reasons.  

For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.  

So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little. 

“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.  

“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.  

“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you. 

“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”  

You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.  

“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”  

__  

[ TEN ] 

 There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka. 

Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.  

He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.  

But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.  

(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.  

It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)  

You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.  

You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.  

Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.  

Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell. 

 (Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)   

When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.  

Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.  

“Hi,” 

The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet. 

“Hi,” He says back.  

You smile.  

“What’s your name?”  

“Bachira,”  

He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.  

“How old are you?”  

“I’m ten,”  

“Really? Me too,”  

“Do you know how to play soccer?”  

You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”  

He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”  

“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”  

“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”  

You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”  

You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.  

“Oh,”  

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”  

He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”  

You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”  

You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.  

“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”  

“Sure,” You tell him.  

As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.  

“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?” 

He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”  

Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.  

“Not really. I’m just normal.”  

He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.  

You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.  

__  

Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.  

On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.  

When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.  

It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.  

They don’t scold you again after you say it. 

__  

(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.  

Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.  

On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.  

It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. ) 

__ 

“So, you’re an omega?”  

Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.  

You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”  

He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.  

He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.  

“Does that mean you like alphas?”  

The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.  

You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.  

“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”  

“But do you?”  

You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.  

“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”  

“Then what about omegas?”  

That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”  

“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”  

A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”  

“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.  

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ ELEVEN ]  

Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.  

In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.  

You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.  

You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher. 

You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.  

Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.  

 Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.  

 Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy. 

 You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?  

You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.  

You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.  

__  

[ TWELVE ]  

You return to the classroom early after health examinations.  

It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.  

You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.  

After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.  

The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.  

You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.  

You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.  

It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.  

Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.  

You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.  

Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.  

You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.  

You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.  

There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.  

Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.  

Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.  

She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.  

“Guess what!”  

“Did you find out your secondary sex?”  

She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”  

“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”  

She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?” 

You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.  

You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.  

You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.  

It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.  

__  

“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”  

You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.  

You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.  

“Does that bother you?”  

Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.  

Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”  

You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.  

You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”  

You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again. 

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ THIRTEEN ]  

You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.  

 A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.  

Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.  

 It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.  

You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most. 

Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.   

You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.  

You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.  

You just need to keep it together until the train stops.  

There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.  

“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.  

You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.  

Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.  

“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.  

our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.  

“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?” 

You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.  

Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up. 

Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.  

You’ve never seen him so angry.  

You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears. 

“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”  

He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.  

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”  

It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.  

When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.  

He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.  

“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.  

 He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.  

Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.  

“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”  

“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.  

“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.” 

*** 

__  

The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail. 

 But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.  

You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex  - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.  

The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.  

You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.  

You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.  

You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.  

But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.  

__  

[ FOURTEEN ] 

Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.  

There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.  

Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.  

You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.  

You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.  

“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”  

“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.  

You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.  

“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”  

“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.  

You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.  

“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant. 

“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”  

He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.   

“Buy something with it later.”  

He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.  

“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”  

You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.  

“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”  

“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”  

You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.  

“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”  

“New shoes, maybe.” 

You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”  

“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.  

You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.  

“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.  

He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”  

“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”  

Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”  

You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.  

“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.  

“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”  

You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she  sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.  

“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”  

You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”  

“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”  

Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”  

“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”  

“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.  

Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.  

“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”   

“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”  

Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”  

You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”  

“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically. 

“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.  

You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”  

“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,” 

You shake your head, displeased.  

Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.  

“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”  

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.  

He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”  

You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”  

“Yes, ma’am!”  

Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.  

Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”  

She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”  

You blink.  

“Sorry?”  

“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.  

“What a good question,”  

You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”  

“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”  

“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.  

“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.  

“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”  

“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”  

You pause.  

You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.  

 You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”  

“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“  

Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.  

There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.  

 Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference. 

“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,” 

Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.  

“Didja miss me?”  

A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.  

“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.  

“Rude!”  

Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.  

__  

[ FIFTEEN ]  

“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”  

Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.  

He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.  

His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.  

But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.  

“You’re home late,”  

“I had student council,”  

He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.  

“You’re in student council? Since when?”  

You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”  

“Then are you in other clubs?”  

“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”  

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…” 

You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”  

“You heard all of that?”  

You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”  

“It didn’t scare you?” 

“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”  

His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”  

“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”  

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.  

He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?” 

He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?” 

“Uh-huh.”  

“Got any plans?”  

“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”  

He makes a face at you. “That brat,”  

“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”  

“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”  

“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.  

“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”  

“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”  

“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”  

__ 

“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”  

Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.  

You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.  

You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason. 

You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”  

“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”  

You shrug indifferently. 

Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.  

A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.  

Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.  

Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.  

So after summer break, the two of you started dating.  

It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.  

Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.  

It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.  

Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be. 

“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”  

“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.  

“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”  

“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”  

There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.  

Sometimes.  

You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”  

He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”  

“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”  

“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.  

“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”  

There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.  

“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”  

You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.  

“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.  

“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”  

He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.  

__  

[ SIXTEEN ] 

On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.  

You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.  

When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.  

The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.  

The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.  

He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.  

The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.  

The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.  

The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.  

He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.  

This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.  

It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.  

He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.  

You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.  

Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.  

He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.  

His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?  

You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”  

Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.  

What an incredible view.  

__  

(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.  

Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.  

A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.  

After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.  

You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.  

You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.  

“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.  

“I know you are,”  

His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”  

He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.  

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” ) 

__  

[ SEVENTEEN ] 

“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”  

You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”  

“Are you on the street in front of my house?”  

“Huh? Yeah, I am.”  

The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears. 

You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.  

“You ran here,”  

“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”  

“News? What about?”  

His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”  

__  

The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.  

You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.  

And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.  

It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.  

Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.  

It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.  

Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way. 

 Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.  

This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.  

Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.  

Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.  

But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.  

At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.  

“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”  

“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”  

You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”  

Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  

“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”  

You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”  

Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”  

You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”  

“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”  

You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”  

“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”  

You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”  

Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.  

He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.  

It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.  

“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!” 

__ 

You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.  

You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.  

You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.  

You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”  

You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.  

You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”  

“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”  

“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”  

You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.  

You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.  

“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.  

You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.  

Are you some sort of masochist?  

“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”  

Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.  

__ 

Hours pass.  

You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.  

You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.  

You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.  

He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.   

You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.  

“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.  

“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”  

“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”  

“Sorry.”  

He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”  

“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”  

“Really?”  

You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”  

“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”  

You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.  

“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”  

Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.  

“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”  

Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.  

Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.  

You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.  

You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.  

Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.  

You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.  

__ 

You don’t talk about it.  

When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.  

The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.  

Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.  

__  

The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.  

It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.  

You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.  

When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.  

You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.  

You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.  

In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.  

Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever. 

The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.  

The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.  

It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.  

He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.  

You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.  

He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.  

 You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.  

And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.  

So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied.  She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.  

You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.  

You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you. 

Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”  

“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”  

“Huh? Why?”  

“Because—“ 

You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.  

You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.  

Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”  

“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”  

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.  

“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”  

“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”  

“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”  

The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”  

You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.  

“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.  

“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”  

“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it. 

“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.  

“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”  

“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”  

“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”  

You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line. 

‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.  

__  

For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.  

Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.  

Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.  

Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.  

The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.  

Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.  

You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words. 

You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation. 

“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.  

Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”  

Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”  

Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”  

You blink.  

“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?” 

Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”  

“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”  

You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”  

Isagi smiles. “Sure.”  

You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.  

You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to  a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.  

Bachira is still Bachira. 

But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.  

What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?  

You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.  

You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?  

Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.  

It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.  

You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.  

What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you. 

Was he never going to tell you? 

Did he never trust you enough to tell you? 

That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe. 

The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?  

“Meguru,”  

You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.  

“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”  

You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”  

“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”  

“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”  

“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”  

You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.  

But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.  

You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.  

“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”  

“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.  

“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” 

Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.  

You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.  

“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?” 

Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply. 

__  

[ EIGHTEEN ] 

On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.  

Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.  

“Ah. Hello?”  

“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”  

You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”  

“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”  

“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”  

“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”  

You flush. “…I did.”  

She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”  

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”  

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”  

“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”  

“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”  

[sunnyangy]

Thigh riding 🍂

Riding his thigh with your hands on his shoulders, as he pulled up his sports shorts. Feeling your slick rub against his muscles as he look at your desesperate face, drool dripping on your chin while you rub your sensitive nub on him. He grips your ass, giving it smacks as he watch you with a predatory gaze.

« So eager, can’t even wait until I’m done to fill you up~ what a slut~ »

| Barou, KUNIGAMI, SHIDOU, Umemiya, Sakura, Endo, Togame, KUROO, Bokuto, Iso, Gojo, TOJI, Sukuna, Kenpachi, Renji.

Short drabble to feed y’all <3 The image is my man Umemiya looking so fucking sexy 👀