ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ taking care of you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ꒱ 〜 ♯ ⋮ 𝄞 new gen 11 × pregnant wife reader ༉ .ᐟ ★

𑣲 michael kaiser

ever since your stomach started showing, michael kaiser acted like he had been given the most important responsibility in the world.

the same man who loved calling himself an emperor suddenly spent more time reading pregnancy books than football articles, making notes in the margins and insisting he knew exactly what every week meant.

if you even sighed a little too hard from across the room, his head would snap up immediately. "what was that?" he'd ask before you could even answer, already walking over with that serious look on his face.

"does something hurt? are you hungry? tired?" and nine times out of ten you were only stretching, but that never stopped him from checking anyway.

he would grumble under his breath whenever people teased him for fussing over you so much, pretending it annoyed him, yet he never once slowed down.

Funtime Kunigami over here

female-bodied!reader, sae calls reader "mommy“, edging, down bad sae

≈ 2.2k, bow divider from @cursed-carmine !!

It feels unfair that a screen can still make your chest ache—that a thousand kilometres of airports, stadiums, and timezones can disappear the moment his eyes find yours.

His phone’s propped against the lamp on the nightstand, catching him in that low hotel glow. His hair’s still damp from the shower, dark amber strands falling across his forehead. He looks softer this way, less like the footballer the world thinks it knows and more like yours. Your Sae—the version of him quietly reserved for you, the one who lets himself be loved entirely.

Still, the shadows under his eyes tell a different story—drowsy hollows carved by a flight from Madrid, a full ninety on the pitch, and a walk through a foreign lobby to a room that smells like industrial detergent and someone else’s sleep.

“Missed your face,” he says; direct even when he’s being soft.

Your breath catches around a smile before you even realise you’re wearing one. He could’ve told you about the match first, the flight, about the hotel—he chose you. It’s a profound relief; even after everything the world asks of him, he still begins with you.

You’re in your own bed, the empty spot beside you meaningless now, because he feels near despite the fact he’s physically so far away. Distance means nothing when love can be stretched without ever becoming weak.

“Missed you, too. I watched you. That assist in the thirty-second—“

“Boring.” He shifts, and the camera catches the lean line of his collarbone where the hotel robe falls open. The fabric is white, standard issue, hanging loose off his shoulders. It’s only a hotel robe, but on him it falls like the first layer of folded wings, snow against warm skin, soft enough to make the room feel touched by heaven.

He blinks slowly, almost dazed. His jaw shifts, considering whether to say something. You watch the thought pass behind his eyes, quick and unguarded, before he decides against filtering himself.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

The laugh that leaves you is breathier than you meant. Even now, he asks for you like it’s the easiest thing in the world, never dressing his words in prettier words than they need. “Light pink. The one you like.”

Something flickers in his eyes—typically guarded teal going dark at the edges, pupils expanding even through the video feed. “Show me?”

You pull the phone up, panning down your body. The thin strap of the bralette cuts across your shoulder. The lace trim sits just above the curve of your breasts. The fabric cups you in a way that makes your nipples tighten against the mesh. His breath audibly catches—you hear it through the speaker; a sharp inhale, held, released slow.

“Fuck.” He says it like the air’s been knocked out of him—like he’s been holding that word in his chest all week.

“Long day?”

His jaw tightens. You watch the muscle jump under his skin. You know that look all too well. He carries exhaustion the same way he carries everything else—with his shoulders squared and his mouth set, determined to convince the world it weighs nothing at all.

“Long week. It gets repetitive.”

You wish distance could be folded into paper. That you could reach through the screen and smooth the fatigue from his face with your thumb, brush the damp hair away from his eyes, remind him he doesn’t always have to be remarkable. He already has somewhere he can simply exist—where he doesn’t have to be Itoshi Sae before he’s allowed to be just Sae.

“Wish I was there,” you say, though he knows you mean I’d carry it with you if I was there. Because you’re one in essence. His pain is your pain, and you’re selfless enough to accept it—to want it, even. To share both the good and the bad things, equally. You never really mean “I wish I was there.” You mean “I wish I could take care of you.” He always hears the difference.

“I took a cold shower,” he says suddenly, embarrassed, more by the fact than by admitting it—because he knows you’d never judge him.

“Yeah?” Your fingers idly trace the neckline of the bralette, dragging the pad of your thumb along the lace—a sinful invitation. “That’s what you do?”

“I try.” Even through a camera, his attention always feels tangible. It rests on you with a quiet certainty, patient and unwavering, as though the distance between you exists only for everyone else. “Doesn’t work.”

You watch him shift on the bed, the robe falling open wider. The movement pulls the fabric past his hip, past the jut of his pelvic bone, and the hard line of him against his stomach. His cock curves up, flushed at the tip, resting against the cut of his lower abdomen. A bead of pre-cum catches the hotel lamplight.

“Oh, Sae.”

His name in your mouth makes his throat bob and swallow.

Your voice pours through the speaker like warm honey, slow enough to cling to every corner of his thoughts. “Show me, baby.”

He adjusts the phone in hurried movements, leans back against the pillows, and lets the robe fall open completely. Your eyes trace the sharp line of his collarbones, the plane of his chest, the ridges of his stomach tightened from the way he’s holding his breath—down to the trail of dark hair below his navel. He looks delicious.

“Been like this for hours,” he whispers, quiet, as of saying it any louder would make the distance between you bigger.

“Look at you.” You let your voice go low, let it wrap around him through the speaker. “You’re so needy.”

His cock twitches on screen—an involuntary jump that you feel in your own thighs. “Yeah,” he breathes shakily.

“You just can’t help it, hm?”

His breath comes shallow, visible in the rise and fall of his chest. “No—Can’t help it.”

You slide your hand down your stomach, over the waistband of your underwear. The lace is already damp against your fingers, a sign of your own arousal. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to touch myself. Want to have you watch.”

You smile, soft and honey-sweet. “Then do it.”

His hand wraps around himself and he groans—a sound low in his throat that goes straight between your legs, that makes you press your thighs together ashamedly. He strokes slow at first, dragging his palm over the head, spreading the slick in a wet shine along his shaft. His hips twitch into his fist, a small involuntary thrust.

“Been thinking about you all day,” he says, voice rough, fraying at the edges. “Your voice, your hands. Miss you so much.”

“Yeah? I miss you, too.”

He whimpers, hand faltering for a moment. “Every time I scored, I thought about calling you.” His hand speeds up, wet sounds loud enough to be picked up by the phone. “Wanted you to be proud.”

His honesty always arrives without decoration. He never has to perform vulnerability; he simply places it in your hands and trusts you’ll know what to do with it.

“I am proud. So incredibly proud of you, baby.”

You push your underwear down, kicking them off your ankle. The ruined fabric lands somewhere on the floor, and the cool air hits your wet skin.

“I’m touching myself now. Watching you.”

He tracks the movement—the way your hand dipped below the screen. He’s watching you, not his hand, and the weight of that focus makes your breath hitch.

“I want to see.”

You angle the phone between your thighs, and he makes a sound like he’s been punched—a sharp exhale, a bitten-off curse. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you.” You slide your fingers through your slick, gathering it, circling your clit in slow, deliberate pressure.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he begs.

“Two fingers.” You demonstrate, sliding them through the wet heat, pressing against yourself. “Thinking about what you’d do if you were here.”

“Eat you out,” he answers immediately. He’s breathless, words coming between ragged exhales. “Make you cum on my tongue.”

You push a finger inside yourself, and your hips roll into, seeking more pleasure. “You’d like that?”

“Fuck, yes.”

You watch him intensely—the way his chest heaves, his thighs tensing and releasing, his jaw slack. His hand is a rhythm now, steady and desperate. Known tell signs that he’s close.

“You gonna cum?”

“Close.” His voice is strained.

“Stop.”

His hand stops mid-stroke. The sound he makes is wrecked—a whine from the depth of his chest, that others would think has no business coming from him. Someone who steps onto the pitch and makes grown men afraid. His cock pulses furiously against his stomach, untouched, and you see the way his whole body strains from denial.

“Look at me, Sae.”

He does—eyes hooded, pupils blown so wide the teal is barely a ring, lips parted on a breath that won’t settle.

“You’re so pretty like this. You might make me cum.”

His hand hovers over himself, not touching. “I wanna see you cum.”

“Not yet.”

You pull your hand away from your own heat. The loss makes you ache—a hollow throb between your thighs—but the look on his face makes it so worth it. The desperate flash of frustration that melts into something akin to worship.

“You’re cruel,” he says, but there’s no bite to it; it’s rather reverent, devout.

“I’m patient.”

He laughs—a broken thing, more air than sound. “Well, I’m not.”

You smile. “I know.”

He keeps his hand where it is—close, but not touching. Every few seconds his hips give a small instinctive twitch, searching for friction he won’t give and allow himself.

“Touch yourself again.”

His hand wraps around himself so fast you could almost laugh. The groan he lets out is deep, relieved. He strokes himself in long, languid pulls, and the camera shakes a little from where it’s propped up on the night stand.

You slide your fingers back where they belong, curling, matching his rhythm. The slick sound of your own hand echoes in your quiet room.

“Mommy,” he says, and his voice cracks. “Please. Can’t take it anymore. Wanna cum for you.”

The word hangs in the air—mocking, you know so by the little curl of his lips. But his expression gives him away. The way he searches your own through the screen. He needs you to tell him yes.

“Yeah? You wanna cum for mommy?”

“Mhm. So badly.”

“Then keep going. Don’t stop until I say.”

He nods obediently. His hand is a blur now, pre-cum making the glide wet and obscene. His thighs shake profusely.

“I’m close. I’m really, really close, mommy.”

“Cum with me.”

“Together?”

“Yeah. You can do that, right?”

“Yes, yes. I can do that.”

His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. The sounds he’s making are falling apart—gasps, half-words, your name caught in his throat.

“Mfghh—Baby. I’m gonna cum.”

You’re right there—right on the edge. Your fingers press hard against your clit, hips rolling desperately into your palm.

“You gonna cum all over yourself?”

He whines in response—a sound high in his throat, broken open.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah.” The word punches out of him. “M’gonna cum all over myself.”

“Cum for me, then. You’ve been so good.”

You come apart together. He moans your name—low and wrecked—and you watch him spill all over his fist, hot streaks of cum spurting across his stomach, his chest heaving, abs tensing through it. His mouth falls open on a soundless moan, eyes fluttering. He’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him.

Your own orgasm crashes through you—waves of heat radiating from your core, your thighs clenching, back arching off the mattress. You ride it out on his name, on the sight of him falling apart for you, and for a long moment there’s nothing but heavy breaths.

He collapses back against the pillows, arm thrown over his eyes. His chest is glistens with sweat, still rising and falling too fast, refusing to settle. Cum pools in the hollow of his stomach, catching the low lights.

When he finally looks at the camera, there’s a tiny smile tugging his lips.

“You still there?” he asks.

“Still here,” you whisper back.

He laughs, soft, open, all yours. The sound carries the same quiet relief as stepping through the front door after weeks away. Home has never been a place for either of you—it learned to take the shape of a person. “I hate that you’re good at that.”

“Liar.”

Edit: Maybe smile at the camera, Teddy...

Some NG11 :D

NG11 x reader

⪻Synopsis⪼

You, a girl in Chicago, just seem to attract these New Generation XI like you're magnetic!

⪼Contains⪻

Probably ooc (please tell me things i can/should change!), bunny is lwk a flirt, slightly suggestive? (Only like twice, don't get your hopes up😔), barely proofread, oneshot (could make a pt2🧐), 4k wc

A/n: first post... Kinda scared! Anywho, lmk if i missed any tags or if there's anything i can do to improve my writing! I'm not completely sure if they're ooc, but i did look at the wiki for ones I was unsure of.

“¡Oh, qué pareja tan linda! ¡Me dan ganas de morirme!”

[Oh, what a cute couple! It makes me want to die!]

You froze for a second, glancing at the scarred man next to you. Now you knew your Spanish was rusty, but not that rusty.

After working up a little courage, you spoke up, “Sorry, my Spanish isn't the best. But did you just say that couple made you want to… die?”

The man turned to you, eyes widening in pleasant surprise. A smile slowly formed on his face, and you genuinely couldn't tell if it was real. “Pardon me. Just… insensitive. They're so happy, y'know? Making out in public like that. Absolutely repulsive.” His eyes caught the Sun for a second, red shining beautifully. You thought he might've been a demon.

After a minute of nibbling on your lip, he chuckled. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You'd rather flee, but his body was surprisingly warm for winter.

“Not going to pull away? Mh, maybe you do belong on the streets.” His hand came up to push your head onto his shoulder. You, basically being cold-blooded, nuzzled into his touch.

“Big talk for someone who finds couples repulsive, then does this to a stranger. Who's really the desperate one?” You let out a small yawn, watching as the sun rose beyond the horizon of towers.

He let out a small sigh, rubbing your shoulder. A low chuckle came from him. “Know any good restaurants around here? I have some idiots I need to feed. Unless you're up for a date?” His smooth-talking was good—but you weren't easy. You actually were, but that wasn't important as of now.

After a brief moment of silence, you got up and stretched. He followed too, turning to you with that bright smile from earlier.

You glanced around the area. Still early in the morning, most restaurants were closed. Part of you wondered why this foreigner was even out this early, let alone the weather. Chicago wasn't exactly known to have light winters.

After no response, the guy shifted to meet your gaze. You flinched back instinctively, softly apologizing for zoning out. “My bad, just got lost in thought. Most places are closed right now… but I'm pretty sure there's a hidden gem just a couple of minutes away. No time for a date today though… Are you free sometime around next week?” You didn't want to let this chance go to waste. A handsome Spanish man trying to take you out? Hell yeah!

And so you led him down the street, the buildings and skyscrapers surrounding you. Then into a mall that was quite empty with the calmness of an early morning. After going down some stairs that were practically hidden, you finally arrived just as the shop was opening.

“Oh hello y/n! Haven't seen you so early in a while. And who's this?? Did you finally get a boyfriend?!” You could've sworn your face turned beet red.

You see, this place was owned by a friend of a friend. They knew you by heart considering the small staff and your frequent visits. “Ah no, just a tourist I met. He asked about any good places and I just thought of here..!” The cashier snickered while one of the cooks loudly whispered something like ‘yeah right'.

The man glanced at you with a smirk, before turning to the cashier. He asked a couple of questions about the food, you two exchanged numbers, and you eventually departed with your heart racing.

How could it not?

That was Bunny Iglesias in the flesh!

---

Excitement still pumped through your veins as you walked around. It was late afternoon and your heart was still pounding against your ribcage. You had met one of your many idols just a couple of hours earlier!

You walked around the city for a place to sit. Of course you ordered from the niche restaurant you showed Bunny earlier, but to-go. You always got to-go during your lunch breaks just in case you lost track of time.

Eventually you found your way to a little bench. Some guy was there, a little odd looking but didn't seem to be bothering anyone. Unless they hated pigeons. This man was feeding a whole flock of them with a loaf of bread.

It was quite a cute, little domestic scene. Then you saw someone walking over.

Ugh.

Some people just felt like they had to enforce laws. Like if you're gonna be so strict about it, become an officer or teacher or whatever!

Being the empathetic person you were, you sat down next to the man—who looked like a tourist now that you think of it—and warned him. “Hey uh sir? Feeding pigeons isn't allowed. But if you move two blocks away to a company building, you shouldn't have any problems there.” You pointed towards your company building. That wasn't owned by the city, but the company itself. “I can sh–”

Before you could finish, the woman stormed over, already red from the anger. It was pigeons, man, why is she so mad?

“Hey! You, stop feeding those pigeons!! It's illegal in these parts!” Her shrill yelling gave you a throbbing headache.

But before you could say anything, the man cut in. “Aye, shut up. You're scaring the birds. C'mon, they're hungry after people like you neglect them. They deserve some food, okay?” He happily gestured to the little birds who were intently focused on the bread crumbs.

You blinked and next thing you knew, the lady had slapped him. The noise scared some pigeons. She tried kicking some before you stepped in and pushed her back.

“What the fuck? Back up bitch. He's a tourist and just trying to feed some birds. It's not like you'd need any more food.” You had no clue where the hell you got this confidence from. Yelling at a stranger?! For a different stranger no less!

The man stood up so fast you almost flinched. He was like 6 foot something! “Don't worry about me. I was just about to leave. And this lady was about to let the birds finish eating—right?” He smiled, gold teeth glimmering in the bright sunlight.

You didn't need to look twice to confirm that was Don Lorenzo.

The lady yelled something but left after getting frightened by the height difference. You turned towards Lorenzo, his expression truly kind. Not that fake yet charming smile Bunny had shown you earlier. “Are you okay?”

You blinked. Not scared or something, just shocked. He got slapped by a rude lady and that was his response?!

Despite the surprise drumming through your thoughts, you nodded. “I'm fine. A-are you good though? Looks like she hit you pretty bad…”

Lorenzo chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Part of you worried once you realized he didn't have a scarf. “Oh uh take this.” You unwrapped your own scarf from around your neck and held it out to him. “Chicago gets pretty chilly during winter.”

At first he refused, but after much insistence on your part, he took it. You offered to show him to the company building, telling him it wouldn't even be a problem considering it was your work building. But once he realized the time, he left in the opposite direction. You didn't mind, but that encounter was definitely unexpected.

What was it with these World Generation XIs??

---

The next day, you wanted to take a stroll around Lake Michigan. You liked swimming, but the beach wasn't really an option during winter.

Then you saw someone. Sitting on a bench, warmly covered. But even then, you could make out the pink-ish hair under that black beanie.

Sae Itoshi is here too?

You lulled yourself into a calmer state before sitting next to him. Morning stroll, you thought. Yeah right.

He glanced at you but continued peering out at the ocean. He seemed quite interested. The lake did look pretty at the time. Water had mostly frozen over, but didn't exactly freeze in one piece. The surface was broken into small glaciers and waves pushed them around, making a fascinating sight to behold.

Without thinking, you blurted out, “Does it freeze over like this in Kanagawa?”

You didn't mean to give away the fact you knew him. It was just, you were genuinely curious. Kanagawa's beach wasn't a lake, hence the question.

Sae glanced at you, eyes narrowing when you didn't say anything beyond that. “...no. Does the lake always look like that during winter?”

You shook your head and continued gazing into the water. At one point, you glanced at Sae. He was already looking at you.

But you didn't dwell on that. You stared into his eyes, the beautiful teal reminding you of the wild lake just in front of you.

“You're pretty.” You wanted to explode right then and there. What was it with you?! It's like Sae just demanded the truth without saying anything.

Yet he didn't fuss over it. Instead, just tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk flickering on his face. “Pretty? I've heard a lot about me, but not pretty.”

You looked away, mumbling some excuse. After a straight minute of chewing on your lip, Sae added something, “Don't worry about it. I've heard a lot in my career. You're one of the more tame fans.”

That managed to soothe you. Soothed you enough to ask questions. “Y'know, you're the third World Generation Eleven I've met this week. Are they all around the area?”

Sae hummed in confirmation, taking a second to respond. “Not everyone, but majority. Kaiser, Lorenzo, Loki, Hugo, and… Bunny.”

Silence settled comfortably between you two. Until he broke it again. “Who've you met so far?” His voice was quieter now. Calmer. You glanced at the sea and the waves weren't as chaotic. Did his emotions depend on the water or something?

“Ah uh Bunny and Lorenzo. I don't think Lorenzo knows my name—it's y/n by the way—and Bunny is…something? No offense to him! Just a surprising first impression.” The more comfortable you got, the more talkative you became. Sae Itoshi was known for being cold, yet you couldn't help yourself with a cheery mood.

Sae sighed at the mention of Bunny. He didn't seemed too fazed about the latter making quite the impression. “Oh really? He's like that. What tepid nonesense was he spewing when you met him?”

You took a second to respond. Did Sae sound… amused? Because what? Just the mere thought of Bunny of doing something stupid entertained him that much?

You quickly responded befire your thoughts spirled into questions again. “There was a couple making out in the park. He was sitting next to me and said the couple was repulsive in Spanish. I was so taken aback I had to ask what he meant by that. It was really something.” You laughed to yourself as you recalled everything else that transpired that morning.

Sae checked his watch before letting out a soft exhale. “Gottta go… How about we exchange information? You don't seem too bad.” You were stunned silent for a second.

The Sae Itoshi was asking for YOUR number???

Without much hesitation, you pulled out your phone and held it towards Sae. He typed in his number, saved it, and gave it back to you. He then got up and left without a word. At least Don said bye yesterday!

---

You needed a drink. Now, you weren't much of an alcoholic, but you did take a glass or two when you wanted. And besides, the bar was always playing some sport game on the TVs. Wouldn't hurt to watch one, right?

It was a hockey match. You were nursing a glass of whisky, cheering whenever either team scored. Not much of a hockey fan regardless, you stopped caring about the score a while ago.

On your third glass, you stopped caring about the match in general. You felt woozy. By your fifth, you knew you were done. How did you even end up like this..?

You tried to get and walk outside for some air, but ended up stumbling. Almost fell before a strong arm caught you. “Shouldn't a little thing like you know better than to drink that much?”

Your body reacted before you could. You squirmed, trying to escape whatever hold you were in. The man let out a quiet sigh before readjusting—more so manhandling—you.

Suddenly, the voice spoke up again, “What a pretty girl. Nobody with you, hm?” His thick German accent and quiet mumbling made it a little hard for you to understand, but you still did in your drunken haze.

Then you truely saw him. The blue rose tattoo on his pale neck, peaking out from under his jacket. The blonde hair dyed blue at the ends. Unmistakable, gorgeous blue eyes with red eyeliner.

Michael Kaiser’s unique look.

Suddenly the accent made sense. You never took Kaiser as the type to drink though. At the same time, celebrities aren't always as they seem.

“M–Michael? Wait no, uh Kaiser, right?” You tried talking but nothing came out right. He chuckled and led you to his car.

Kaiser opened the back door and made you sit inside. He stood outside, crouched to meet your gaze. “Where do you live?” Silence from you. “I asked you a question.”

“You did?”

“... Yes, I did. Where do you live?”

“Why…why do you wanna know though?”

He let out a sigh like he just came back from a 9-to-5. “I need to know so I can drive you home. You can barely walk, so I doubt you can do anything on your own.”

You shook your head, a pour forming. “I can go home myself!” Then you crossesd your arms, the epitome of adorable stubbornness.

Next thing you knew, Kaiser left to call someone. And when he returned, he buckled you into his car. Then he got in the driver's seat. For whatever reason, you didn't fuss. Actually, you ended up falling asleep. Something about cars—or just transportation in general—made you sleepy.

When you woke up, you were being carried inside a… place? Hotel probably. Oh well. You drifted back to sleep, curling into whatever warm area that was by you.

---

Next time you were awoken, it was by a couple of voices. Familiar voices?

“Did you need to bring her here? What are we gonna do when she wakes up in some random hotel surrounded by strangers?!”

“Relax, Sae. Bunny said she's not the type to fight. And Lorenzo said she doesn't back down when scared. Hugo and Loki wanted to help take care of her. You won't need to lift a finger.”

“It's not about me doing work, it's about the fact you brought her here in general. She's drunk and couldn't even recite her address earlier.”

The bickering continued for a while. You wanted to say something, ask questions, but you couldn't even lift a finger. Sleep overcame you again as you listened to the chatter fade into background noise.

---

“Hugo, be careful with that.”

“I will. Do you think she'll like this?”

“Well I hope so. We won't be here to get her anything when she wakes up.”

“How bad are hangovers usually? I wanna make sure she's comfortable.”

“I wouldn't know. I'm pretty sure this stuff helps though.”

As much as you wanted to open your eyes, ask questions, your body just wouldn't cooperate with you. It had been a while since you were last drunk, was it always like this?

The only thing you could do was shift your body. Everything felt warm, comfortable. You half-buried your face into the pillow.

All talking stopped the moment you moved. But after nothing happened, you felt yourself get tucked in a little more.

“What a restless little doll,” a French accent spoke, “She's been moving quite a bit.”

You whined at that. A different voice, softer, chuckled. “So you can hear us, hm? C'mon, wake up.”

You wanted to listen so bad, but your limbs felt like lead. The longer you stayed awake, the worse everything felt. You clenched your jaw, curling up into yourself.

Taking the hint, one of them tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Rest, ignore Julian.”

That you could listen to. You shifted a little more before you could finally rest again.

“She's adorable. No wonder Bunny wants to take her with us.”

---

You were finally able to move by next morning. This time, you didn't hear anyone. You slowly blinked awake and sat up. After a quick visual survey of the room, you deducted you were in a hotel.

There was bread, water, and a note on the night stand. You gently picked up the piece of paper to read it.

Good morning, y/n!

Apologies we couldn't be there when you wake up. Early morning plans and whatnot. You're currently at [hotel name]. Michael brought you here after you got drunk. Below is my information if you need it, don't hesitate to reach out. And feel free to stay in the hotel as long as you want!

–Julian Loki

+X (XXX) XXX-XXXX

Woah. No way this was the Julian Loki you were thinking of, right?

…

This was definitely the Julian Loki you were thinking of.

Was he the one who took care of you yesterday? Wait, is this what Kaiser was talking about? Hugo and Loki wanting to care for you?

You had so many questions. But with nobody to answer, you sloppily grabbed the cup of water, almost spilling some in the process. You drank small sips before getting the piece of bread.

It took you a while before you finished everything, then even longer before you got up and left. You made sure to pocket Loki's note before leaving the hotel.

---

After a massive headache, you went back to the lake. Who knows, maybe you'd see Sae again! Though unlikely, you wouldn't mind another conversation with him.

You were completely zoned out when you realize how winded you were. It took a minute for you to find a bench. You reached for your water—and fuck. You were fresh out.

Your hands braced on the bench as you attempted to sit down. Air shot in and out of your lungs as you tried to catch your breath. God, what even caused that moment of lightness to the point of this?

“Need water? Or anything for that matter?” A sweet voice rung out from your left, good english with a strong french accent.

Of course Loki was taking a jog too.

You turned and saw him smiling down at you. The moment he sat next to you, you collapsed onto him. Your head fell on his shoulder, hands tempted to reach out to his. “Loki…” You knew how pathetic you sounded, whimpering his name, but you couldn't do much else.

Loki's expression softened as he lifted a bottle to your lips. You greedily drank until you couldn't. A hand reached up to paw at his. He chuckled, but pulled back the bottled and capped it.

A voice drifted through the harsh winter air, “What are you doing here? Thought you'd be dealing with a nasty hangover.” His hand snaked around your waist, pushing you upright.

A whine came before a proper answer. Though eventually, you did speak up, “I felt a little better and wanted fresh air…”

Time passed before you finally felt good enough to stand. Loki helped you up, and even improved your running form once you two started jogging. He matched your pace the entire time, which was sweet knowing how fast he could go.

Loki made sure you got to your apartment before seeing himself off. You laid down with your heart racing. You told yourself it was from the exercise, but you also knew otherwise.

---

Chocolate croissant. You really, really craved a chocolate croissant. Part of you was tempted to ask Loki to get you one.

After much hesitation, you dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed. There was a bakery right down the street. Overpriced and popular, but insanely good. And besides, they gave locals a discount. Who wouldn't want that!

The cold air was painful on your throat, but you kept trudging through. Once you entered the crowded shop, a shiver of delight ran through you. The delicious scent drifted through the warm air.

You found a table and placed your jacket on it. Then you went to the counter and ordered your chocolate croissant.

Nothing could stop you from devouring it! Well, until a voice cut through your thoughts, “Feeling better, chéri?”

What was Vivian Hugo doing in a bakery?

You took a bite of your food before answering, “Minor headache, but other than that, I feel great.” Then you gestured to the seat across from you.

The chair screeched slightly as Hugo sat across from you. He opened his paper bag—one from the bakery—and pulled out an eclair.

A moment of silence stretched—until you broke it, “Thank you. For taking care of me. I forgot to tell Loki that, but I'll thank him later.” You looked at Hugo with a soft smile.

He froze like he malfunctioned for a second, then reached out towards you. His thumb brushed away a crumb and some chocolate before bringing it to his tounge.

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest. He simply just licked off some chocolate from his thumb and you were turned on attracted to that??

“So… uhm, why are you and some of the other new generation eleven here? Sae told me who was here but not why.” Your attempt at breaking the tension was tepid at best, but Hugo humored it.

He took a bite of his eclair before answering. “Just wanted to check out this place. It's off-season and we have nothing to do.”

After light conversation and two finished pastries, you went back to your apartment. That's when you realized you couldn't find your purse. Normally you wouldn't care, but it was your favorite!

---

It took much convincing yourself to go back to that hotel. Night had fallen and you weren't even sure you remembered the hotel or room number correctly.

Knock knock knock

You stood outside a familiar door, heart pounding. You really hoped for just Sae, Kaiser was okay too. Or maybe Hugo and Loki! You knew it was Sae and Kaiser's hotel room, but one could hope.

When it opened, you saw… Don Lorenzo???

“Oh! It's you! Come, come, we were just talking about you, okay?" Despite his ecstatic attitude, you worried. What exactly did he mean by we..?

You stepped inside and your heart dropped. Now you knew what he meant.

They were all there.

Bunny sat on the edge of one bed—the leftmost one, where you had woken up earlier. Kaiser and Sae sat on the couch, to which Lorenzo joined. Hugo and Loki sat on the edge of the rightmost bed, the latter already smiling at you.

He soon spoke up, voice dripping with delight, “Ah, Y/n. What brings you here?”

Before you could answer, Bunny patted the space next to him. You hesitantly sat next to him. He instantly manhandled you to straddle his lap, drawing a gasp from you. “See? I told you guys, she's so easy.”

You wanted to argue, but Sae had already came over and yanked you up by your arm. “Get your filthy hands off of her, creep. Aren't you Spaniards raised better than this?”

Bunny rolled his eyes, leaning back on the bed. “Y'know, you really make me wanna jump out this window. Actually no, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?”

Lorenzo got up too and forcefully seperated everyone. “Hey, enough with the yelling, okay? Why don't we just get along with each other! Didn't even give the poor girl a chance to answer Loki.”

That gave you a chance to answer Loki now, but at what cost? You felt everyone's eyes on you, making you beyong shy at this point. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt before you sheepishly answered, “I, uhm, I think I forgot my purse here..?”

Hugo wordlessly held it up. You quickly grabbed it. Before you could leave, Kaiser's voice cut though the silence,

“Say y/n, why don't you stay the night?”