#chapter 500 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kenyummy · 15 days ago

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DREAM ꒰⚘݄꒱ NAGI ,, SHIDOU

SYNOPSIS : what do the blue lock boys dream about when they're away from you, training to be the greatest striker?

note: hi! again, this is the same thing i posted earlier, just nagi and shidou versions ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) both are mildly nsfw. um actually i just read through it and i take it back shidous one is like hella crazy. I'm not making it as nsfw because its more like super crazy making out but. uhmm... yeah. ˙ᵕ˙

nagi seishiro

There's a bright light everywhere. Nagi can hardly see, through the half-lidded lens of his eyes. He blinks a few times, and there's a muffled sound encasing his ears. It sounds like his name is being called out in a pleasing voice. That voice sounds nice. Nagi wonders who it belongs to.

Through his blurred eyes, he can make out vibrant colours of purple and black encasing the walls of wherever he is. It's mostly white noise—but Nagi can make out a hint of a pop song playing in the background, but he doesn't care for which.

He turns around, vision still hazy, until he meets a pair of eyes. Beautiful, bright eyes that sparkle under this blinding light—a pair of eyes that belonged to...

"[name]?" His vision is suddenly completely clear, and he can see you in perfect detail. You're standing there with a soft smile, a bag around your shoulder and dressed in flowy, casual clothes.

"You finally responded? Did you manage to get the Psyduck?" You walk forward and stand beside him—and only now does Nagi realise where he is.

The arcade, with [name]?

Is this a dream or something? This feels way too good to be true.

Your expression drops and you look at him, annoyed with your hands pressed against the glass—you look mad, but it feels more like an angry kitten rather than anything to Nagi, "You didn't even insert your token?"

Looking down into his hands—he didn't even feel the weight of the full cup of tokens in his grasp until you mentioned it. He blinks, eyes dulling. "Oh. Sorry." He responds dumbly, quickly inserting a token.

The claw machine lights up and blares embarrassingly loud music that draws attention, but you don't acknowledge it and only cheer when he moves the claw around, "Go, Nagi!" You whoop, and this makes the snow-haired boy feel even more determined to win that stupid platypus Pokemon.

He finally gets the claw into the perfect position and sends it down—it grabs onto the plushie, and for the first time ever, Nagi gets it on the first try. It gets sent down the winning hole, and you cheer in joy as Nagi bends down to pick it up.

He stares wordlessly at the plush for a second, looking into its cartoonishly stupid eyes, before looking back up at you, with your wonderfully large smile, and holding it out to you. "Got it for you."

You blink, looking up at him, then the duck, then him again, lips parted so invitingly. Then, you smile, cheeks flushed prettily, and you take the duck from his arms, and into your own grasp. Hugging it into your chest, you lower your face into the head of the platypus, "Thank you, Nagi... you really didn't have to. It's a date for both of us, after all."

A date...

This is a dream.

Nagi has this sudden realisation while looking around. You're here, and you feel like you—but isn't he supposed to be in Blue Lock? Working his ass off to become the best striker? He shouldn't be at some random arcade on a "date" with you. Ego would never let that happen.

So, the last explanation Nagi could come up with, is that this is all a dream. That's the only thing he could come up with. Nagi was never that smart, but even he could point out the inconsistencies that came with this whole scenario.

So... if this is all a dream... I can do whatever I want.

He swallows thickly.

With no repercussions. This is all in my head... and anything I want can happen.

Nagi moves forward and suddenly hugs you close to his chest. You yelp in surprise but do not push him off or say anything—simply accepting his warmth engulfing your figure. He digs his nose into your hair and takes in a deep sniff.

You smell nice. Much nicer than any of the guys in Blue Lock.

But, you simply letting this happen confirms his theory. This really is a dream. You—the real, fleshy you—would never allow Nagi to just hug you without at least hitting him with an iconic one-liner or snarky quip. If this version of you is not real... if this version of you will never remember what he feels...

He looks down and removes one hand from your waist to tilt your head upwards, and with the most innocent look he can manage—he shuts his eyes and leans down. He knocks the breath out of your lungs with an aggressive kiss, fiery hot and burning in your stomach.

His heart churns and his mind is running at a thousand miles per hour, but Nagi can't care. He doesn't care, because this is what he wants—and is it selfish of him to take it within a dream? That is only what a true egoist would do, right?

You squeak, but Nagi does not acknowledge it, engulfing the puff of air in his own mouth when he connects his tongue with your own. It takes a good few seconds for Nagi to pull away—and he only does so when you grab his soft cheeks in your palm and push his head back. A thin string of drool connected the two of you.

You look into his eyes, hazy and misty and his clothes suddenly feel too tight and the room is far too hot. He runs his hands up and down your torso, feeling the creases of the material underneath his electric fingertips, and it's like every sense he has is heightened in this blazing moment. "Nagi... not here..."

Oh. So even his dream version of you had her morals.

"Fine." Nagi mumbles, eyes sunken low. He knows this is wrong. He knows that he should not speak, but the words glide off his silver tongue before he has a chance to stop himself. "But when we get home, you can't expect me to stop."

His heart skips a beat after he sees your embarrassed expression. He can't find it within himself to care that this is all a dream, and in the morning you will never know this has happened. You won't ever know what has gone on between the two of you in his mysterious mind—and this will be a secret Nagi will forever take to his grave.

It's okay if he does this, right? Because it's your Nagi, the one who you adore so much. He's forever yours—if only you'd say the word.

shidou ryusei

"So... you're seriously saying you... want to...?" Shidou asks incredulously, and he can already feel himself twitching. His blunt nails dig into his palms and it takes every last bit of self-restraint he has left in his body to not pounce on you like a dog in heat.

This is the most composed you've ever seen him—and that's saying something. Well, not really, because he still looks like he's going to implode (haha, very funny) on the spot. You swallow thickly, a thin layer of sweat sheens down your back and suddenly the room feels way too stuffy—even if it was freezing cold when you had walked in.

Room... this room felt oddly unfamiliar. A room painted completely white, except for the odd accent of dark blue, proving its existence within Blue Lock. Shidou remembers stomping here after a brawl with Rin and getting extra scratched up this time because Rin ended up landing a good punch or two—he can't recall.

He doesn't remember how long he was out after you shocked him into submission—rather, he only recalls how you started this whole thing, as soon as he woke up in this strange room, you were practically in tears from how scared you were. Usually, Shidou woke up at most a few hours after being tased out, but this time, he was knocked cold for a whole day.

You nearly cried when he finally woke up, sitting by his side in a chair. You're holding onto his hand, but quickly let go in favour of hugging him so tight that he can barely breathe—and he can feel everything—and your voice is wracked with relief.

So now, here's the present, where you look like you're going to melt into a puddle on the floor when you say, "Y...yes... Because... I feel bad. That's the only reason I'll let you do this..." Still, with your pissy prickliness, you fold your arms under your chest, "But... only that, Shidou. Nothing more... I won't shock you this time... but I'll make you regret it."

Ignoring the comment that immediately comes to mind with your last sentence, he grins devilishly and feels his heartbeat increase with the anticipation, "Hell yeah! You're being serious, yeah? You'll let me?!"

Shidou can't quite remember since the last time he'd felt this excited for something that hadn't even happened yet—his goals were a burst of dopamine, but this? This was pure, unbridled excitement.

His leg unwillingly starts shaking up and down and you notice it—clearly, with the large sigh you suck in. You have to turn your head away before you shake your head—lest you see the face Shidou makes, a face you'd prefer not to be seared into your mind.

You walk forward, each step feeling like thousands of hands were trying to warn you—to hold you back—but you continue, right until you're standing in front of Shidou, who's sitting on the edge of his bed with his legs hanging off the side.

You place your things down on the table beside you. Hesitantly, like you're weighing your options—you slide your shoes off, so that the only thing on your feet are socks, and you slowly slide your jacket off, cheeks burning, so that you're only wearing your tank top.

Shidou watches in terrifying silence—you're sure this is the quietest you've ever seen him—and his eyes follow each move you make like he's a predator hunting for prey. Frankly, this scares you, but you have no room to say anything in this moment, so you only take in a deep breath, and lean upwards, placing your legs over his, and placing yourself on his knees.

Perched all prettily for him—shouldn't this be enough? Not for somebody like Ryusei Shidou, especially not just this. This would never be enough, and you were disappointingly aware of it.

This thing—the thing Shidou's been asking for since he met you... is to touch your boobs.

It shocked you just as much as it shocked anybody in the vicinity with his bold request, and you swore to yourself you'd never give in—especially not to somebody like Ryusei Shidou. But here you are now, practically trembling as he stares at you—his hands slowly reaching up.

He's silent... why is he silent? These thoughts run wild in your brain but are quickly shut down like a dead landline when his touch finally reaches your stomach. His fingertips are rough against your untouched skin, and it sends shivers flicking down your spine. Then, they finally came in contact with the lace around your bra, and he almost looked disappointed with the revelation.

But this doesn't phase him, no, not one bit, because as soon as his large palm engulfs one side of your chest, he squeezes. You slap your hand over your mouth and all the humiliation suddenly comes running back to you—crashing your brain like a ten-ton truck. He squeezes, and squeezes hard, like it's a stress ball and not a part of your body.

You bite out through groans, "Don't be so rough. Otherwise... I'll leave."

Shidou, who's been scarily silent this entire time, Shidou, who had his hand wrapped around your tit like a vice, and Shidou, who's looking into your eyes with such a serious look it makes you shiver, "Nah. Won't let ya."

You blink, and for a second, forget your humiliation in favour of blank confusion, "What?" You ask, dumbly.

"Won't let ya," and suddenly, the Shidou you know returns with full force, cheeks a hot stain of red and a demonic grin stretched out across his face—behind his sharpened, pearly teeth is a sense of danger, "I mean... ya gettin' me all worked up over here... and you think I'll just let ya leave?"

His eyes darken, and he grips your waist with his free hand, sliding you into his lap. "No. Fucking. Way. I would sooner quit soccer than let ya leave now."

Basically what he's saying—you're not going anywhere. Your heart races—sadly, you forget that he has a hand right over where your heart lies (even if it is a bit preoccupied with something else), and gets to tighten his hold before you squirm away. Warningly. He's saying—don't you dare fucking move.

He moves his hand from your tit—leaving the other one trapped around your waist—and moves it upwards, to the back of your head, gripping your hair hard in his hand. "You're way too pretty, manager-chan~ All those guys look at ya, but here I am, the one you hate the most having you here perched all pretty in my lap. This is how it should be, yeah?"

He grins, a grin you learned to despise, because of the words and person it was usually paired with—Ryusei Shidou looks so much like a demon. You can't say you hate him, but you don't like him either.

So then, when he crashes his lips into yours with the full ferocity you usually see on the court, do you not push back? Maybe deeply, somewhere in your fucked-up mind, you actually like this. At least, Shidou hopes so—because he can't get enough.

His lips move against yours in a harsh motion you're probably not used to—by the way your hands grip his shoulders and definitely leave marks from your nails. He tugs your head forward, wanting to become even closer—you think that if he moves you any further you'll fuse with him, but maybe, that's what he wants.

Ryusei Shidou loves so violently, so unabashed and unbridled that it scares normal people. Average people—who will never dream of understanding somebody like him. His love is so intense and overwhelming that he can't physically hold it in—but that is Ryusei Shidou, and he has no plans to change himself, especially not with how good it feels.

Dopamine spreads through his veins and he feels like he's about to light on fire from how hot his skin feels—but you're the same. His fingers sneak up the back of your shirt and it's positively burning, like wildfire in a dry forest. The mere thought that you're feeling the intensity he's trying to show you revs him up a gear further, biting down on your lip hard in excitement.

You try to pull back with a wince, but Shidou doesn't let you, kissing you so hard and pushing your head in so much that all you can do is whine against his lips. He fucking loves this. He fucking loves you. His eyes open just the slightest, and the expression on your face nearly makes him explode.

His hand slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass underneath your sweatpants, nails sinking into the material with how hard he grabs it. This feeling—that spreads from his numbed mind towards the tips of his toes, is a feeling he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of. He's kissed people. He's made out with people. But it's never been like this.

He's never had such mind-numbing excitement right here, in front of him and completely pliant to his doing—Shidou has never been this excited before. It's not just what's happening—it's you. He's so drunk—so high off of you that it makes him want to melt into you and never return. If one day, you decided to make Shidou your own, that would be the day he would die happy and submit to your will.

But until then... Shidou will have the reigns, and control them—until you and him are forever like this.

Finally, after a minute of torture and pathetic gasps for air through your nose, Shidou pulls away, letting go of your sore head of hair and panting, a thin string of drool connects both your lips. He grins at the sight, face flushed and a thin layer of sweat sheened over his face.

But you—with your lips swollen, glossy and plump from being kissed so hard by him, and the sweat beading down your face giving you an ethereal glow—looks so much more beautiful than he ever could, he's sure.

In fact, that look on your face—misty eyes with lids too heavy to hold up, and lashes curled upwards to your brows—is what prompts Shidou to finally flip it out.

You're moved faster than you can react, your back crashing against the sheets before you have a chance to protest. His legs are positioned in between yours, and he's hovering on top of you—his antennae ticking your cheek. You look up at him with wide eyes, lips slightly parted from shock, and Shidou runs his tongue over his bottom lip when he sees his sight. Underneath him—where he believes you should always be.

My heart won't stop pounding. He thinks, a smile spreading at the thought.

The dopamine rushes through his veins and it gives him the energy to lean down, held up by the arms that cage either side of your head, "You're fucking gorgeous."

I love you.

I love you so fucking much.

Shidou loves with such intensity that it can blind people—and maybe, you were the only person who could take such love. Even when his lips crash against yours once again, and you find you're now without your tank top—even in a dreamscape such as this, Shidou is sure that you'll just know.

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