Im Sorry, I Have To Bother Osamu

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

YO I LOST THIS BLOG WHEN I LOOKED AWAY AND NOW I CANT FIND IT

Its like the avatar boys in a high school setting and they confess to reader or visa versa if you find it plsssss tag me or send it my way

Also the person page was talking about basketball aonung or something like that

I didn’t even finish it man😫

Afterglow

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser

Content: Blue Lock boys after pound town (tiktok trend)

A/N: A request from my one of my fav moots @captainshindo <3

Warnings: Mentions of sex

     Yoichi Isagi

     You’re sitting across from Isagi in a quiet corner of a late-night restaurant, the hum of low conversations and clinking cutlery filling the space around you. The air is thick with the scent of grilled meat and spices, but all you can focus on is him—slouched in his seat, eyelids heavy, hair still slightly damp from the sweat of what you’d done barely an hour ago.

     He looks exhausted.

     The kind of exhaustion that settles in your bones after giving everything—after pushing, pulling, and losing yourself completely in someone else. His navy-blue hoodie hangs loosely on his frame, collar stretched just enough to reveal the faintest trace of teeth marks near his collarbone, evidence of the way your lips had claimed him. He probably hasn’t noticed, too busy fighting the drowsiness that keeps dragging his head downward, only for him to snap back up again when his chin nearly meets his chest.

     “You look like you’re about to pass out,” you murmur, stirring your drink with a straw, amusement curling at your lips.

     He blinks at you, dazed, as if only now remembering where he is.

     “I’m fine,” he says, though the hoarseness in his voice betrays him. He shifts in his seat, one hand lazily rubbing at his face before reaching for the glass of water in front of him. His fingers fumble slightly, like even the effort of picking it up is too much.

     You bite back a grin. “You sure? You look like you had the life drained out of you.”

     At that, a slow, lopsided smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I kinda did,” he admits, voice dipping into something softer, something just for you. He leans back, stretching his legs under the table until his foot nudges against yours. “Not that I’m complaining.”

     Your face heats up at his words, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Eat something before you actually collapse.”

     He groans but picks up his fork, obedient for once. You watch as he takes a bite, chewing slowly, his gaze flickering to you in between. There’s a quiet intimacy in this shared space, the remnants of passion still lingering between you, woven into the way his shoulders relax and the way his foot stays pressed lightly against yours.

     Yeah, he’s tired. But he’s here, with you. And there’s something about that that makes your chest feel warm, like the afterglow hasn’t quite faded yet.

     The waiter approaches, setting down a plate of food in front of you both. Isagi lazily thanks him before turning his attention back to you. You notice the way his fingers grip the fork with a little more steadiness now, the small bites he takes as he refuels his drained body. The sight makes you bite back a smirk, he really had no energy left to spare after earlier.

     “You’re staring,” he says between bites, eyes flicking up to yours.

     “So?” you challenge, resting your chin on your hand.

     He swallows, setting his fork down just long enough to rub a hand over his face again. “So, it’s distracting.”

     You raise an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. “Distracting from what? Chewing?”

     “Yes,” he mutters, the confession dragging a laugh out of you.

     “Just admit I wore you out,” you tease, nudging his foot beneath the table.

     He exhales a breath that’s almost a laugh, shaking his head. “You already know you did, love.”

     The admission hangs in the air between you, making your stomach flip. He doesn’t shy away from it, doesn’t try to cover it up with some cocky remark. He’s just… honest. Open. Your heart does something stupid in your chest, and you quickly focus on your food to keep from letting it show too much.

     “God, what was I even thinking of letting you ride? You nearly killed me,” he sighed dramatically.

     “Oh, but you enjoyed it,” you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

     He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hm, well… I might just let you do it again.”

     “Oh?” you smirked, leaning in a little closer, intrigued by his sudden change of heart.

     “Yeah,” he nodded, “but only after my soul finds its way back into my body,” he joked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

     You catch him stifling a yawn behind his hand, and before you can stop yourself, you let out a quiet chuckle. Then he lets out another yawn, barely covering it with his hand. “I think I’m gonna just pass out here. Wake me up when it’s sunset, yeah?”

     You snort, flicking a stray napkin at him. “Not happening. I’m not carrying your heavy ass home.”

     “You could try,” he mumbles sleepily, already slouching further into his seat.

     You shake your head, watching as his head starts to dip again. “Fine, but if you snore, I’m filming it.”

     Meguru Bachira

     The restaurant is dimly lit, buzzing with soft chatter and the occasional clatter of dishes. You sit across from Bachira, who is currently melting into the booth like a man who’s just ran a marathon. His cheek is squished against the cushioned backrest, golden eyes barely open as he stares at the menu, though judging by the way his pupils aren’t even tracking the words, you highly doubt he’s actually reading it.

     He lets out a long, dramatic sigh and slouches even further, which you thought was physically impossible until now. “M’too tired to read. You pick.” His voice is thick with exhaustion, slow and slurred like he’s seconds from passing out on the table.

     You scoff, flipping through the laminated pages. “You’re the one who insisted on coming here.”

     “Didn’t think you’d drain my stamina that much before we got here.” he mumbles, stretching his legs under the table until his foot nudges yours.

     You roll your eyes, pretending not to feel the warmth creeping up your neck. “Quit being dramatic, you’re acting like you just did a whole workout.”

     “I did,” he insists, lifting his head just enough to look at you before flopping back down. “A very, very intense one.”

     “You sound proud.”

     He grins, not even denying it. “Well, yeah.” Then, he waves his hand. “Give me your hand.”

     You arch an eyebrow, but give in, letting him lazily play with your fingers. His thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles, his touch featherlight, but there’s a sort of intimacy to it that makes your stomach do an embarrassing little flip.

     “You’re ridiculous,” you murmur.

     He pouts. “You love it.”

     You do. But you’re not about to give him that satisfaction out loud, so you just shake your head instead.

     The waiter comes by, eyeing Bachira with slight concern, probably wondering if they need to call emergency services for the half-conscious man draped over the table like he’s just fought for his life. Bachira somehow musters enough energy to order something simple, though you’re pretty sure he just pointed at a random item on the menu. The moment the waiter leaves, he groans and drops his forehead against the back of your hand, exhaling loudly.

     “Don’t fall asleep on me.”

     “Mmm,” he hums, muffled against your skin. “No promises.”

     You sigh, but your other hand moves on its own, fingers combing through his damp hair, still messy from earlier. He exhales again, this time with a content little sound that makes you freeze because oh no, that was cute.

     “You’re so spoiled,” you mutter.

     He cracks an eye open, smirking. “By you? Yeah.”

     You smack his forehead lightly, and he laughs, though it quickly turns into a yawn.

     It doesn’t take long before the food arrives, and you thank the waiter while Bachira blinks at his plate like he’s not sure what it is or how it got there. He picks up his fork, twirls it between his fingers, then—

     —immediately drops it with a clatter, staring at his own hand in betrayal.

     “Honey,” he says gravely. “I can’t hold things.”

     You stare at him. “What.”

     “My arms are dead. My fingers? Jelly.” He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers dramatically. “Look at this. I have no grip strength left.”

     “Oh my god.” You stare in disbelief.

     “This is your fault.” He insists, and your mind wanders back to how he worked you with his hands for what felt like hours before you got here. You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands at the thought. You broke your man. All for an orgasm. They were great orgasms but still.

     “Do you want me to feed you?” You offer, feeling slightly guilty.

     He gasps. “Would you?”

     You were joking, but now that you see the way his eyes are lighting up, you realize you’ve made a mistake.

     Before you can retract your words, he’s already leaning forward, mouth slightly open, waiting.

     “…I regret everything.”

     “C’mon,” he sing-songs, grinning like an idiot. “Say ‘ahhh’ for me first so I don’t feel weird about it.”

     You grab a fry off your plate and shove it into his mouth to shut him up. He hums happily, chewing like a satisfied child.

     “This is amazing,” he sighs, slumping even further against the booth. “I should let you ruin my stamina more often.”

     You nearly choke on your own food at what he said. You grab a napkin and dramatically press it against your forehead like a distressed Victorian widow. “I can’t do this.”

     “Yes, you can.” He nudges your knee with his foot again. “You love taking care of me.”

     “Debatable.”

     “You’re still feeding me.”

     Ugh, he’s right.

     He grins triumphantly, but it’s quickly interrupted by another yawn. His eyes are drooping again, and you can already tell he’s not going to last much longer.

     “Meguru, if you fall asleep in your food, I will take pictures.”

     He waves a lazy hand. “That’s fine, just make sure you get my good angles.”

     You stare at him in disbelief before shaking your head, picking up another fry to pop into his mouth before he actually does pass out. Yeah. He’s definitely not making it through this meal awake. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek as he snores.

     And honestly? You don’t mind.

     Hyoma Chigiri

     You’re sitting across from Chigiri in a quiet corner of a late-night restaurant, the air rich with the scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread. The dim lighting casts a soft glow over the table, reflecting off his crimson hair, which is slightly disheveled—strands sticking to his damp skin, the aftermath of everything you’d put him through just an hour ago.

     He looks done.

     Not just tired—wrecked. Like he’s been through a battle and barely made it out alive. His normally graceful posture is completely gone; he’s slumped in his chair, arms sprawled across the table like he physically can’t hold himself up anymore. His long legs stretch out beneath the table, one foot lazily nudging yours as if he can’t even muster the energy for a proper kick.

     “You good over there?” you ask, taking a slow sip of your drink, watching him with thinly veiled amusement.

     He exhales, blinking at you like you’ve just pulled him out of a deep trance. “I think you ruined me,” he mutters, voice hoarse, thick with exhaustion.

     You smirk. “You’re acting like I made you run sprints for three hours straight.”

     Chigiri groans, dragging a hand down his face. “That would’ve been easier.”

     You chuckle, setting your glass down with a quiet clink. "Oh? Are you saying I’m worse than your training regimen?"

     Chigiri gives you a deadpan look, but there’s the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I’m saying I might need a recovery period before I can walk properly again."

     You hum in mock consideration, reaching for a fry from the basket between you. "There’s a reason why you stretch before doing stuff. Maybe you should’ve done that"

     His ears flush pink, and he exhales sharply, shaking his head. A smirk falls on his lips as he sends you a look. A look that got you two here in the first place.

     “Is that why you’re doing alright? Because I stretched you out so good?”

     Now it’s your turn to be flustered. “H-Hyoma!”

     Well, you can’t deny it. You stammer as he lazily steals one of your fries, though it takes considerable effort, his hand moving slower than usual. You watch as he chews, blinking like he’s on the verge of passing out right then and there.

     The restaurant hums around you, the low murmur of conversations blending with the occasional clatter of plates from the kitchen. Outside, the neon lights of the city flicker against the glass windows, casting a soft glow over Chigiri’s already exhausted face.

     He stares at his drink for a long moment before frowning. He groans again, tilting his head back against the seat. "I’m not sure I have it in me to get up."

     “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before bending me over.” You shrugged, a sly grin on your face as you sipped on your drip.

     "I hate you."

     "That’s not what you were saying earlier.” You tease, “Should I jog your memory again?”

     "Again?" he nearly shouted. "I don't think I can handle that for a while. Give me three to five business days."

     “Yeah right, I give it less than twenty-four hours before you’re begging me to let you do me.”

     His lips part like he wants to argue, but all he does is sigh, shoulders sinking further into his seat. He doesn't need to say it—you both know the truth. Instead, he rubs his thumb over your hand, lazy and affectionate, before stealing another fry.

     Rin Itoshi

     You sit across from Rin at the dimly lit restaurant. Your legs feel weak, a pleasant ache lingering in your thighs, but it's nothing compared to the exhaustion practically radiating off Rin.

     His teal eyes are half-lidded, and his usually sharp expression is softened by fatigue. He leans against his hand, fingers buried in his dark hair, as he stares at the menu like it’s some unsolvable puzzle. Every now and then, his gaze flickers toward you, as if blaming you for his current state.

     “What?” You blink at him stupidly.

     Rin exhales through his nose, not dignifying you with a response. Instead, he lets his head rest against the back of the booth, eyes closing for a moment. The rise and fall of his chest is steady, controlled, but you can tell that he’s drained. You did that. Hehe. Wait, oh my god, you did that to him. The thought makes warmth creep up your spine.

     “Maybe you should’ve paced yourself,” you tease, flipping through your own menu. “Not my fault you can’t handle a few rounds.”

     His eyes snap open, irritation flickering across his face, but there’s no real malice behind it. Just a grudging kind of admiration, hidden beneath layers of stubbornness. “Shut up,” he mutters, voice rough, as if he’s still recovering.

     You bite back a laugh. It’s rare to see him like this—unguarded, spent, completely at your mercy in a way that isn’t physical but still intoxicating.

     The waiter arrives, and Rin straightens, but there’s a sluggishness to his movements. You order for yourself, then glance at him expectantly. He sighs before muttering something about just getting whatever you’re having.

     “Too tired to decide?” you hum, resting your chin on your palm.

     Rin glares, but it lacks its usual bite. “Too tired to deal with you,” he corrects, rubbing a hand down his face.

     You grin, satisfied, and reach for your glass of water. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

     And from the way Rin looks at you, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, you know that’s exactly what it was.

     You glance over at him, your fingers tapping against your own glass. “So,” you start, breaking the quiet, “how was that game of yours today? You actually manage to score this time?”

     His eyes narrow slightly, but the smile on his lips is knowing. “Of course. Not that you’d understand the level of skill it requires.”

     You arch a brow, leaning forward a little. “Excuse me? I could totally play circles around you.”

     “Sure, you’d be great at running interference. ‘Oh no, I can’t block, I’m too cute, please don’t hurt me!’” he mocks you.

     Your eyes narrow, “You’re lucky I’m too tired to slap you.”

     Rin winces dramatically, then leans back with a smirk. “I don’t think you could handle me one-on-one. You’ve already proven you’re not great with stamina.”

     “Oh? You’re one to talk. Don’t make me remind you how well I can handle my stamina against yours.”

     Rin coughs, his face flushing slightly, but he recovers quickly. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

     “I’m insufferable? Is that why you were trench deep in me a few hours ago?” You smirk, taking another sip of your water.

     He scowls, but there’s a certain softness behind it. “That’s enough conversation, shut up. I’m exhausted.”

     “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before deciding to go for as long as you did.”

     Rin’s expression darkens with what could almost be called a glare, but it’s too tired to be truly threatening. “Don’t even start. Do you think you have more endurance than I do?”

     “Mhm, I would prove it to you again but,” You lean in a little closer, smirking. “I don’t think you can handle another round of me just yet.”

     “You talk a lot for someone who’s too tired to even sit up straight.”

     “Well, maybe I just enjoy teasing you.” You lean back.

     The waiter comes back, placing your food in front of you. You immediately dig in, savoring the taste. Rin follows suit, though he’s still slower than usual. You catch him glancing at your plate from the corner of your eye, a barely concealed hunger in his gaze.

     “Are you still hungry?”

     He looks up, and this time, his glare is sharper. “I’m not that weak.”

     You smile and slide your plate closer to him, just out of reach. “Sure you’re not.”

     Rin narrows his eyes at you, then at the plate. It’s clear he wants it, but his pride’s getting in the way. The tension is palpable as he debates internally, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “Just take it,” you say, amusement coloring your voice.

     He glances at you, his lips twitching into a grin. “Fine, I’ll take it, but only because I’m too tired to argue.”

     “Ah, see? You do know when to give in,” you say triumphantly, handing it over.

     “Don’t make me remind you how easily I can make you give in.” He threatens, but you hope it's a promise.

     Seishiro Nagi

     It’s a quiet evening at a small, intimate restaurant nestled between two towering buildings. The dim light casts a soft glow over the wooden tables and delicate plates of food. The quiet hum of conversations fills the air, but the two of you are wrapped in a peaceful bubble of exhaustion. You can still feel the lingering heat from earlier, the way his skin pressed against yours, the feeling of his hands tracing patterns along your body.

     Seishiro Nagi sits across from you, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes as he rubs at them lazily. His eyes flicker to you briefly, but they don’t seem to fully focus. There’s a soft, tired smile playing on his lips, the kind that lets you know he's content, but at the same time, it's clear he’s almost struggling to stay awake. You can’t help but chuckle softly at his state.

     "Hey, Seishiro..." you say, leaning across the table just enough to catch his attention. His eyelids flutter, and he blinks a couple of times, as if trying to summon the energy to keep them open.

     "Yeah?" His voice is hoarse, low, and barely audible. It’s clear that he’s fighting sleep, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

     “Are you okay?” You ask.

     “Mhm,” he replies, his voice raspy. "Just never had someone wear me out quite like you."

     Your heart skips a beat at his words. The casual tone in which he speaks holds a sincerity that’s hard to ignore. The two of you had just come from your apartment, tangled up in each other in ways that left you both breathless and sore, and now, here you are, in a cozy little restaurant, trying to gather yourselves.

     "Oh, um. You’re not falling asleep, are you?"

     He shakes his head slowly, but you can see the effort it takes to do even that. His eyelids slide shut for a brief moment, and you can practically hear the exhaustion in his sigh.

     "I'm fine," he mumbles. "Just... really sleepy..." His voice trails off as his head lulls slightly to the side, before he catches himself, blinking rapidly to stay alert. You watch him for a few seconds, amused, as he fights the pull of sleep.

     "You sure we should’ve come out to eat?" you ask. "I can’t help but feel like you’re about to face-plant into your food."

     "Maybe..." he murmurs, his eyes half-lidded. "But the food here’s good… 'sides, I want to be here with you."

     Your stomach fills with butterflies at that, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. Despite his exhaustion, he’s always thinking of you. He makes sure you’re okay, that you’re happy, even when his own energy is completely drained.

     “Okay, but next time, we’re definitely staying in,” you tease, leaning back in your chair. “You look like you could fall asleep any second.”

     He smiles lazily, not bothering to fight it. His head drops forward for a brief moment before he jerks back up. "Nah... I’m fine..." But even as he says it, you can hear the faint slurring in his words.

     You decide to let him off the hook. The waitress comes by with your food, and Nagi lifts his head slightly as she sets a steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. His eyes widen momentarily at the scent, but they immediately begin to droop again as he lets out another long yawn.

     "Ramen," he mutters to himself, poking the noodles half-heartedly with his chopsticks. “S'good, I’m sure. Just... I’m gonna... just eat a bit."

     You watch as he takes a few bites, each one slower than the last. His head sways a little as if he’s on the verge of tipping over, and you can’t help but feel a sense of endearment well up inside you. There’s something almost too cute about how he’s always so completely and unapologetically tired.

     "Seishiro," you say softly, reaching across the table to gently touch his arm. "C’mon, let’s just go home. You look like you need a nap more than food right now."

     He stirs a little at the mention of sleep, finally looking up at you with that same, sleepy smile. "No... I want to... eat it myself..." His voice barely rises above a whisper. But after a few more bites, his resolve crumbles.

     “Alright, alright," you say, moving your hand to cup his face. His cheek feels warm under your fingers, the soft skin giving way to the faintest stubble. "You should nap after though. You’ve earned it."

     You offer him a gentle smile, one that conveys everything you’re feeling. The tenderness, the affection, the adoration. He closes his eyes at that, his shoulders sinking further into the chair, his body going slack with exhaustion. A few seconds later, he’s practically dozing, his chopsticks still loosely clutched in his hand, hanging precariously near his bowl.

     It’s not long before you’re the one gently guiding his head to rest on your shoulder. He lets out a soft, content sigh, his body softening into you like a piece of clay, finally free from the constant pull of the world. You shift your arm around him, letting him lean into you as you pick at your food, savoring the flavors but most of your attention on the sleepy, warm figure next to you.

     "How do you always manage to make everything feel so peaceful?" you murmur to him, though he’s half-asleep and doesn’t respond. You don’t need him to. His quiet presence is enough.

     Reo Mikage

     The quiet hum of the restaurant surrounds you as you sit across from him, your heart still racing from the moments shared just hours ago. The dimly lit space feels cozy, and you can't help but grin at how relaxed Reo looks, his usual sharp demeanor softened by the weariness of the afternoon. Normally, he’s composed of confidence, like a guy who could tell you the meaning of life while simultaneously solving a Rubik's cube. But now? Now, he looks like someone who just tried to run a marathon, got distracted by an ice cream truck, and then took a nap halfway through.

     His posture is slouched, his shoulders are practically begging for a pillow, and his eyes are half-lidded with a satisfied haze that matches your own. There's no trace of his usual high-strung self. Instead, there’s a vulnerability in the way he lounges in his chair, as if the very concept of sitting upright is an effort.

     He runs a hand through his hair with slow deliberation. You smile, watching him. It's kind of adorable how tired he looks. You’ve always seen him as the guy who has everything under control, but right now? Right now, he’s more like a human noodle.

     The waiter places two glasses of water in front of you, his smile polite but with just a hint of curiosity, like they're trying to figure out if the two of you are on a first date or if something more... intimate... just went down. You can’t blame them. Reo looks like he might collapse into a puddle any second, and you’re still glowing like you’ve just won an Olympic medal in... well, let’s say “passionate hugging.”

     "Are you alright?" you ask softly, leaning forward just enough for him to hear you. His gaze flickers to meet yours, and a low chuckle rumbles from his chest.

     "Can’t believe you’re the one who’s asking me that," he murmurs, his voice rough in the way people sound when they’ve just done something that requires a lot of energy. "I’ve never been so tired in my life."

     You can’t help it. The laugh that escapes you is soft, affectionate, and a little too amused.

     "I don’t mind," you reply, your tone teasing. "I kind of like seeing you like this."

     He raises an eyebrow at that, lips curving into a slow smile, the glint in his eyes now a little more playful. He leans back in his chair like he’s got a question to ask, but it takes him an unusually long time to find the energy to do so.

     "I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried that you enjoy this version of me," he mutters, his hand dragging over his jaw like he’s thinking of adding a full-body stretch to the mix but ultimately decides against it.

     "You’re cute when you're tired," you say before your brain can catch up. The words slip out like they’re your new favorite outfit. Reo blinks at you for a moment, clearly processing the compliment like someone who’s just been told they’ve won the lottery. And honestly, with that tired smile spreading across his face, he kind of has.

     "Is that so?" His voice takes on a slightly deeper, amused tone, as he leans forward just enough that you can feel his presence press down on you. But not enough to touch. He’s definitely holding back, probably saving up that last bit of energy to make it through dinner without literally falling asleep mid-bite.

     "Yeah."

     "I’m not good at this," he suddenly says, his voice so quiet that it makes you lean in a little.

     You blink. "Not good at what?"

     "Being tired," he admits, his voice almost sheepish. "I’m always on the go, always thinking, always—" He stops, then laughs, like he’s just realized how absurd the whole thing sounds. "But right now, I don’t even have the energy to make a joke or flirt with you. I’m just... done."

     The confession hits you like a slap to the face. This is the Reo Mikage who can talk his way out of almost anything and charm the socks off anyone, yet here he is, admitting that he’s exhausted beyond cognition all because of you.

     You let out a laugh, not unkindly. "That’s actually kind of adorable, you know?"

     Reo sighs, his hand reaching up to rub his temples like he’s holding onto his last ounce of dignity. "I never thought I’d get to the point where I’m adorable when I’m barely functioning. This is new."

     "Okay, maybe next time we can take it slower." You reach across the table and place your hand over his. It’s a small gesture, but there’s something comforting about it. Reo’s gaze softens.

     "I’ll take you up on that," he murmurs, his voice laced with a new kind of tenderness. You were already thinking of next time? The thought made him ache between his legs.

     Reo is doing his best to keep his eyes open, but honestly, you can tell he’s fighting a losing battle. It’s like watching a cat try to stay awake, but eventually, it just gives in to the nap.

     "You’re going to pass out in a restaurant, Reo," you tease him softly, and you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips.

     "I trust you’ll make sure I don’t embarrass myself."

     You smile fondly. "No promises."

     Reo doesn’t respond. His eyes have long since fluttered shut, and his head starts to tilt back. For now, the world can wait.

     Sae Itoshi

     It was a quiet evening, the soft hum of chatter from other diners filling the air, but you barely noticed it. Your mind was still swimming from the rush of what had happened only hours ago, the lingering weight of the experience heavy between you and Sae.

     The two of you had just finished a rather intense bout of passion in the privacy of your bedroom, and while the fire had simmered down, it had left behind a raw, comfortable silence that felt as thick as the air around you now. You sat across from each other at a small table by the window, Sae's face relaxed into something unfamiliar, softer perhaps, but still radiating that effortless cool. Yet, there was an unmistakable tiredness in his demeanor now, a contrast to the usual energy that typically buzzed off him.

     Sae had always been the type to dominate any room, but now, with his legs stretched out beneath the table, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his glass, there was an undeniable exhaustion in his posture. His usual confidence seemed to have slipped away, replaced with a rare vulnerability. You studied him for a moment, his sharp features softened from the wear of the day, the slight crease between his brows as if he was deep in thought or maybe just too tired to think at all.

     You smirked slightly, leaning forward against the table, meeting his eyes. "You alright?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual. You knew him well enough to know when something wasn’t quite right. His body language wasn’t the usual effortless grace; it was more like someone who had just run a marathon, but at the same time, was reluctant to admit it.

     He turned his gaze towards you, blinking slowly as if your voice pulled him out of some trance. His eyes, usually sharp and intense, had softened into a haze of exhaustion, though there was still a playful glint in them.

     "Yeah," he muttered, his voice low and almost drawn out, "Just a little tired."

     "Oh? Is it from what we did earlier?" The teasing tone was unmistakable, but you couldn't help it. It had been wild. Sae had been insatiable earlier, his hands never still, his mouth hot against your skin, and his energy was something else entirely. He fucked you so deep and good into that matress you thought you we’re melting into it. But now, he was the one who seemed to need a rest.

     "Don't remind me," he groaned, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. His usual air of confidence had given way to something much more human, and that made him all the more fascinating. It was almost like he didn’t quite know how to handle it.

     The waiter arrived at the table, placing your drinks down with a soft clink of glass. Sae barely acknowledged the server, his eyes still closed, his fingers drumming lazily on the edge of his empty plate. You gave the waiter a polite smile before they left, focusing back on Sae.

     "You know, for someone who's so used to pushing limits," you said, leaning in just a little, "you sure look like you're ready to collapse."

     He opened one eye, "I could’ve kept going if I wanted to."

     You tilted your head, studying him as he let out a sigh, the way his broad shoulders sagged as if carrying an invisible weight. "You sure? You seem pretty out of it."

     "I don’t do ‘out of it’," he replied lazily, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. It was the kind of response you would have expected from him, but it lacked the bite it usually had.

     You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, unable to hide your amusement. "Yeah, sure."

     "You think I'm lying?" He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to yours with a hint of challenge, though the weariness behind it was impossible to ignore.

     You shrugged. "Yeah. You look like you’re about to pass out right on the spot.”

     "Yeah, well..." Sae trailed off, looking at you as if he were trying to decipher something. He reached out across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. "Guess you wore me out. But I can promise you, I could’ve kept going."

     "If you say so, Itoshi."

     "Don’t get too cocky now. You’re not the only one who can wear someone out. Should I remind you of what happened on your birthday?" There was still a playfulness there, but it wasn’t quite the same as before.

     “S-shut up…” You mutter curtly. Even remembering what happened on your birthday with Sae made your legs ache.

     But as you glanced up at him again, you noticed that his eyes were now closed. A little snore escaped his lips, and you couldn’t help but snicker. Sae Itoshi, the unstoppable force, the man who never showed weakness, he was human after all. He could get tired. He could let himself rest. Even if it was slumping over in his chair at some random restaurant.

     "Well, I guess I really did wear you out," you whispered, resisting the urge to laugh out loud.

     Sae’s eyes fluttered open just enough to send you a sleepy glare. "I’m awake, don’t get cocky," he muttered, but the sleepy tone betrayed him.

     “Yes, sir." You teased, taking a sip of your water as you analyzed his features. Oh, how much you adored him.

     Michael Kaiser

     You lean back in your chair, trying not to giggle too loudly as you glance over at Michael, who’s sitting across from you, looking like he’s about to pass out at any given moment. His hair is disheveled, his shirt slightly untucked, and he’s giving you the most exaggerated, tired expression.

     “Are you okay?” you ask, leaning across the table with a soft smile. You trace the rim of your water glass with your fingertips, watching him as he lazily looks up at you.

     He blinks a few times, as though the question takes him by surprise. Then, as if processing your words, he lets out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.

     “Yeah… I’m good,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, though you’re not sure if it’s from the aftereffects of your time together or just exhaustion. His gaze drifts to the menu, but it’s clear that he’s not really seeing it.

     “Did our earlier activities tire you out?” you muse, tapping your chin.

     “How could it not? I had you on that bed for hours.” He shook his head in disbelief at how you expected him to not be exhausted. “Only reason you’re fine is because I let you be pillow princess.”

     “Hey, I didn’t tell you to be so rough though, that was done in your own self indulgence.” You narrowed your eyes at him. How dare he try to blame you?

     Michael looks up, clearly attempting to muster some strength for a comeback, but all he manages is a weak smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/n,” he mutters under his breath.

     “Are you saying you don’t have it in you for another around?” you ask with a teasing tilt of your head. He stares at you like he’s about to say something, but then his shoulders droop again as if the thought of moving is a monumental task.

     “Round two?” he repeats incredulously. “You’ve already broken me. What do you want from me, a medal?”

     You chuckle, leaning back in your seat as you give him a playful smirk. “Maybe,” you say before continuing “but, I think you deserve an award for stamina”

     Michael scrunches his nose, clearly starting to get embarrassed, but trying to hide it.

     “I don’t even know if I remember the last few minutes, Micha, you just kept going. Are you human?” You laugh, taking another sip of your water.

     "I came here to eat, not to get all worked up again," he grumbled.

     You flashed him a mischievous grin and winked. "Well, maybe you should've been clearer about what you wanted. I did offer you plenty to consume earlier."

     "Yeah, and you drained all the energy with it," he shot back, barely holding himself together. His breath came in shallow gasps. "Careful, darling. I can have you teary-eyed and screaming again. Don’t talk your way into something you won't be able to handle."

     The thought made you ache between your legs, a burning desire coursing through your body. You had to stop yourself from thinking about it too much, or else you might accidentally kill Kaiser by asking for another round. As much as you wanted it, you knew it would be too much for him in his state.

     "Really? You look like you're about to pass out," you said, raising an eyebrow as you studied his flushed face.

     "Might," he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion, but there was still a faint glimmer of a smirk on his lips.

     "You know, this is all your fault, right?" you teased, your tone light, but there was a definite edge of playful accusation in your voice.

     "What did you say?" His eyes snapped open at your words, narrowing in your direction as if ready to challenge you.

     "You didn’t have to be so rough," you shrugged nonchalantly, though the memory of what had just transpired made your pulse quicken. "You did this to yourself."

     "As if you'd have accepted anything less from me," he scoffed, his voice hoarse but laced with pride. "Keeping you satisfied is the real workout. The things I do, the way I wreck myself just to make sure you’re pleased..." His words trailed off, and you could feel the smugness in his tone even as he struggled to stay awake.

     "Oh please," you teased, leaning closer, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jaw. "You think I don’t know how high you get from making me see stars every time you make me come undone?"

     A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, but he was already starting to drift. "Hm. I guess we both have our own reasons," he rasped, exhaustion overtaking him as his head lolled to one side, his eyes fluttering closed. You couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he had given in, how the mighty had fallen. His pride might have been unshakable in the moment, but you had a way of bringing him to his knees. You snapped a quick picture, wanting to capture this rare sight of him defeated and completely fucked past exhaustion.

     "Guess we do," you said softly, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you admired the man who had given you so much yet couldn’t resist teasing you back.

I love love love your ao’nung x reader x neyteyan stiry so I was wondering if for part four you could make the reader come into a situation that makes them insecure? I was thinking a nightmare about the boys leaving reader for someone else, and it scares them and makes them upset and scared, with ao’nung obviously assuming someone said something to reader to put those thoughts in their head, while neteyam is caring but also angry thinking someone out those thoughts in readers head as well

She’s Not Feeling The Best

neteyam x reader x ao’nung

content warnings: angst, reader is insulted by clan members behind their back, happy ending

a/n: i didn’t actually describe the nightmare she has bc the words were not wording so please use your imagination i’m sorry 😭 also i got another request for another part to this series and i didn’t realize it would be so FUCKING difficult to come up with similar titles for these so if they suck i’m sorry i’m doing my best

your eyes flutter as you take calming breaths. you nearly doze off before your head leans a little too much to the side and you jerk back into place.

your sudden movement startles ronal, “my child, that is the third time you have almost drifted to sleep today.”

you were currently training with ronal, meditating, attempting to connect with eywa. you couldn’t come up with an excuse even if you wanted to, “i am sorry.”

she gives you a soft look, “what is the matter? are you not sleeping?”

you know you can’t lie to her, she would know in an instant. “i have been having nightmares.” her eyes widen slightly, moving to sit next to you. she wraps an arm around your shoulders, petting your hair, silently encouraging you to continue. “there has always been talk among the village about how i am not fit to be ao’nung’s mate. but now there is also talk that i am not fit to be neteyam’s. it has made me doubtful of my worthiness.”

she slightly clenches her jaw. if you weren’t fit to be ao’nungs mate, why would his mother and father, the tsahìk and olo’eyktan of the clan, have not only approved of but encouraged your relationship? and why would neteyam’s mother and father do the same? she fights the urge to badger you for the names of the people who said this. opting to comfort you instead, “my dear,” she cups your face in her hands, “if you were not fit for my son i would not have begun training you to take my place. if you were not fit for neteyam his parents would not have accepted you so quickly. you are exactly what the two of them need.”

you relax a little at her words. she has always been a maternal figure to you, hearing this from her was soothing. “thank you for saying that.”

she gives you a kiss on your forehead, “you need to speak with them about this. it is not healthy to bottle it up. we should be wrapping up about now anyway. you are dismissed.” she gently pushes you toward your marui, you shoot her a big smile over your shoulder.

on your walk back, you heard it once more. none of them can see you, but the fact that they believe you won’t hear their words doesn’t make them hurt any less.

from the elders weaving fishing nets and baskets in a marui along your path.

“i just do not understand why she was chosen to be the tsahìk. she does not have a confrontational bone in her body.”

“i agree. she is nothing like ronal. why she chose her to be her successor will forever be beyond me.”

from the teenagers swimming in the water

“i would have been a much better mate for them. i am an incredible hunter and diver!”

“you are way too young for them!”

“whatever. even then, my skills make me better fit to be their mate than her.”

from the men and women resting on the beach after fishing.

“she just, how do i put this, she has only ever focused on healing and connecting with the great mother. both of which are important for the tsahìk, but ronal is also a fierce warrior. i do not think y/n has that kind of fire in her bones.”

“yes. her mates also seem the kind to like someone with more..confidence? i am not sure if that is the right word.”

“i know what you mean. someone with some push-back. i never expected ao’nung to settle for someone as docile as her.”

at first, you knew they were just speaking their opinions, and that their opinions won’t change how your mates feel about you. but eventually they started to take a toll on you. maybe they would like someone more confident. someone more confrontational. someone who had a wider array of skills. then the nightmares began. you didn’t want to tell them, too fearful of the words of the people being the truth. too fearful that they would leave you once they saw you the way others did.

the overheard words weigh heavy on your chest by the time you arrive home. greeted by the sight of your mates sitting on the floor playing a human game neteyam’s father had taught him.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

ao’nungs flat hand covered neteyam’s fist, shouting happily at his victory. the later man pressed his ears flat to his head, “lucky guess.”

ao’nung pecked his nose, “it is not luck when it happens eleven times in a row my love. i think you are just bad at this.”

you smiled at the exchange. neteyam noticed your appearance first. pouty expression changing to glee, “hello my love, how was your day?” he opens his arms for you to sit on his lap.

climbing into the vacant space, you reply, “tiring.”

“what is wrong?” ao’nung asks.

“i have just had a long day.”

his eyes harden, “no. there is something wrong. what is it?” curse him for inheriting his mothers intuition. neteyam looks at you, concerned.

you sigh, “can we talk about it tomorrow please? i just want to relax tonight.”

both of your lovers soften their expressions. ao’nung replying for the both of them, “yes we can.”

the three of you spend the night enjoying eachothers company. only leaving your pod to attend dinner. you can feel the glances and glares of others slicing into your skin, but you attempt to pretend you can’t. upon returning to your marui, you prepare for bed. unfurling the the door and tucking into bed. snuggling into each others arms.

it’s well past eclipse. you lay wide awake while your lovers sleep peacefully, cuddled into your sides. you try to fight the allure of sleep. it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyelids open. against your will, you drift into slumbers sweet embrace.

you awake with a gasp, quickly rising into a siting position. another nightmare violently jolting you from the peace of sleep. almost simultaneously, the boys are pulled from their slumber as well. though, it could have had something to do with the fact that you yanked yourself out of their arms. neteyam is the first to come to, swiftly sitting up to check on you while ao’nung blinks his own sleep away. you’re still panting when neteyam cups your cheeks, turning your head towards him.

“my love what is wrong?” he takes in your face as his eyes adjust to the darkness, “why are you crying?”

crying? you lift a hand to your face to touch your cheeks, it’s only then that you notice the tears dripping down your face. you open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

ao’nung moves to sit next to neteyam, then pulls you into his lap. “breathe like you are about to dive little one. deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth.” you do as instructed. after breathing for a few minutes, you’re finally calmed down. neteyam gently scratches your back while ao’nung holds you to his chest.

the men lock eyes, having a silent conversation. then neteyam speaks, “what is wrong my love?” he has more questions than that, but doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

your voice is small, barley audible when you reply, “i had a nightmare.”

he nods, asking another question, “what was it about?” he can see and feel you tense up, locking eyes with ao’nung once more.

neteyam speaks again, “it is okay, we will come back to that. when you are ready.” he waits until you relax to ask a different question, “is this why you were upset earlier? has this been happening often?”

you nod.

“how long have you been having nightmares for?” the hardness of ao’nungs voice startles you slightly, being a sharp contrast to the gentle tone neteyam had been using. neteyam shoots him a glare. the metkayinian man softens his voice before he speaks again, “i am sorry, i did not mean to startle you. but please answer my question.”

you take a deep breath in, “about a week.” ao’nung clenches his teeth to keep from speaking, afraid his words will carry a bite he doesn’t want you to feel. but your confession made an ugly feeling stir through his body, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. a week? and you’ve said nothing?

neteyam’s reply comes as if he can read ao’nungs thoughts, “why have you not said anything?” he feels guilty. he’s been sleeping peacefully while you’ve been having nightmares for an entire week?

“it is because of what they are about. i did not want to talk about it.”

“do you want to talk about it now?” you lock eyes with your omatikayan mate, though he looks calm, you can see the distress in his eyes and the furrow of his brow. you move to rest your head on ao’nungs shoulder, gripping neteyam’s hand with both of yours and playing with his long fingers.

“my dreams have been overtaken by my fear of you leaving me for someone more fit to be the tsahìk, to be your mate.” ao’nungs grip tightens considerably. the man literally having to bite his tongue to keep himself from spewing venomous words. though they would never be meant for you, he knows his anger will overflow. even though he knows you’re well aware that his harsh tone is never because of you, he doesn’t want to risk it.

neteyam takes a deep breath to calm himself, still speaking to you gently, though now his voice is slightly strained and a tense aura radiating from his form. “why do you think we would ever leave you?”

you hesitate, but ultimately decide to be honest, “there has been talk among the people-“

“bah!”

“ao’nung! let her finish.”

you take another breath, “they say that someone more fierce, confrontational, and widely skilled would be better suited to be your mate. they say i am too docile.”

neteyam takes your face into his hands. bringing your eyes to his, “y/n. there is not a single other person on this planet i feel is more worthy of your position. not only as the future tsahìk, but also as our mate. you are kind, benevolent, and considerate. you make people feel at peace simply by existing near them. you went out of your way to make my family feel welcome, even when others,” he shoots a teasing took to ao’nung, “did not. you took time that you could have used to rest from your long days of training to help us learn your way of life. then on top of that spent your free days with me. every day i thank eywa that you appeared in my life. if it were not for you, i would not be nearly as happy here as i am. i love you with every fiber of my being, y/n. it breaks my heart that you have been made to think otherwise.”

you don’t notice you began to cry again until neteyam wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, kissing the tracks they left behind.

“you are not my mother y/n.” you turn to ao’nung, a slight pang hits your heart at his words, “but that is why she chose you. not only to be her successor, but also to be my mate. she chose you because you reminded her of my father. he may be tough, but he too was considered docile. that is why my mother made such a good match for him, they balanced each other out. the same way you bring balance to our relationship. as much as i adore her, i could not imagine being mated to someone as stubborn or strict as my mother is. the clan needs a leader with compassion. with a caring and open heart. they need you. we need you. please do not let the words of few drown out the words of many, especially not the words of those who love you.”

you choke out a sob, burying your face in his neck. he coos at you, opening one of his arms for neteyam to join your hug.

“i am sorry.”

“do not be sorry.”

eventually, the three of you laid back down. you were tightly sandwiched between the two walls of muscle, who continued to whisper words of affirmation until you fell into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

the next day, ao’nung slips out of bed, careful not to rouse you and neteyam from your slumber. hurrying across the springy floors connecting the maruis so he can return before the two of you wake up. he steps into the familiar marui, eyes locked on the woman he was hunting for. striding into the room, he sits on the floor across from her.

“i need you to help me find some people.”

ronal pays him no mind as she continues sorting herbs, “i have already started a list.”

i hope you find something you like <3

My Hero Academia 

Jujutsu Kaisen 

Twisted Wonderland 

Blue Lock

Tokyo Revengers

Dr. Stone

Demon Slayer

Wind Breaker

Black Clover

One Piece

Gachiakuta

Sakamoto Days

Misc.

last updated 3/16/2025

all of my work is tagged #mimi’s notes or #mimi’s thirsts

good n plenty

pairing: rin okumura + reader

warnings: light angst, hurt w/comfort

now playing 🎶 : good & plenty by alex isley, masego, + jack dine

an: hello !! this is my first time writing fics on tumblr ! while written elsewhere, i thought it would be amazing to try this out here now bc now or never lolol.

“You know you really don’t have to be here, right? feels like you’re monitoring me at this point.”

“Monitoring you? I can’t simply spend time with my boyfriend?”

The words came off as playful, but while his tone mirrored yours, you knew what he meant.

See, Rin Okumura eventually had come to terms with who he was. While it took a bit longer than he had wanted, he knew who he was inside and out.

Being Satan’s son was the heaviest burden anyone could carry, and Rin had fallen victim to that.

With every event that had transpired so far in his life, from the Blue Night to Kyoto and other following events he accepted the fact that he was Satan’s son.

Satan. A fallen angel, once radiant and powerful, who defied divine authority and was casted out of Heaven. A symbol of evil, human frailty even and the enemy of God. A being who sought to destroy God’s children and bring nothing but destruction.

But Rin Okumura?

Oh, nothing hurt more than to see how wrong people could be about this careful being.

Rin was anything but destructive. If anything, he’s more gentle than anyone you’ve ever met.

With the kindest words and the gentlest of gazes towards you, you never understood what it was about you that caught his eyes.

And each time you asked whether it be a joke or not, you were always met with his softness and light words.

“Because you see me.”

And that, made him more human and less of a spawn.

You saw him for his eccentric self, whether it’s over his cooking for him and his brother. Or how Kuro slept the previous night and he’s showing the 45 pictures he took.

Whether it be how he’s excited he’s invited out of a simple game of baseball with the other ex wires or an older woman took time out of her day to chat with him, you saw him for who he was.

Not what he was forced to be.

Sometimes though, the reminders of who he is catch up to him and he’s left shaken up with fear and doubt. The fear of his friends leaving him for good, of losing Yukio, or even losing you.

You received a call at 3 am and now you’re snuck into the dorms, not caring that he’s seeing you with crazed hair and your athletic-based pajamas.

“Plus it sounded like you realllllly wanted me here. Didn’t we just have a date? Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” The cheesy grin was enough to make the boy scoff.

“Hey- I have a cat I can also talk to-“

“Who I can’t understand-“

“And go back into my super comfortable twin bed by myself. Well. With him too.”

It wasn’t long before you were laughing gently at his banter, reminding yourself Yukio was asleep down the hall.

If he were awake he’d certainly scold you two for being up so late.

“Well, can Kuro enjoy some nice chamomile tea and spend time with you like this?”

It was unfortunately also a late night with heavy storms, the drops pattering against the windows. It was loud and clear for the two of you, and you had managed to distract Rin for a bit from it (in case he felt guilty for making you come here).

As he glances over at a window from the empty cafeteria, you stare at his features for a bit and exhale through your nostrils.

What you would give to ease his troubles, to take away all of his fears and insecurities. It was a late night and he clearly had a nightmare, one which his friends had shunned and demeaned him for his heritage.

While not possible with all you guys have been through as exwires, who are you to dismiss that?

You’ll never understand the full extent of it, but you’ll be there as much as you can for him.

“Rin?”

His head turns from the window to look at you, a puzzled look on his features.

His expression was precious enough you’re already smiling, eyes crinkled and teeth showing. Thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you hum.

“You’re… you’re so good. You’re just… a beautiful being.”

The words caught him off guard, and both of you sat in a moment of silence.

Him? Good?

Are you sure you’re talking about him?

“But-“

“You’re a gift from the universe, a blessing to many. You’re choosing a life for yourself, and defying anyone else who disagrees. Who tells you what you should be and what you are. Except…” You frown, and that worries him for a moment.

“I wish you saw how wonderful you are from my eyes.”

Wonderful.

Wonderful? All he can remember being called is aggressive, a brute, hell even a thug.

But a blessing? Wonderful? Satan would be laughing if he heard the formal.

But…

Hands withdrawing from him, you chuckle to yourself out of meekness. “Maybe that’s a bit much. Sorry if it was weird-“

Your words died in your throat when his arms engulfed you, yelping a little from the force. Your arms hung in the air uselessly as you tried to look at your boyfriend.

“Rin?”

“Stay the night with me.”

“Huh? But-“

“Please.”

The word is forced out, in a way which you understand in a snap. His hug was tight, body trembling and voice strained.

Brushing his locks down for comfort, you stand from your chair and nod. “Okay.”

With you in his arms, his soul was able to find a little bit more peace. The tranquility of the rain and him holding you close to his chest brought on sleep to him.

For so long, he had been haunted by the echoes of his past, the weight of his bloodline threatening to drown him in despair.

But in your arms, he found sanctuary — a haven where his flaws were not condemned, but embraced with love and understanding.

And just like that, he fell asleep and remained asleep throughout the rest of the night.

Until of course, a very hungry cat woke him up and an irritated younger brother scolded you both for this recklessness.

It was all worth it in the end for Rin.

(teehee I didn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes; I wrote this at 2 am.)

daily life with spencer

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Liam ”It‘s been. My honor.” Mairi

LIE DETECTOR TEST : ISAGI YOICHI

⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions

⊹ pairing : isagi yoichi x reader (established relationship)

⊹ wc : 543

⊹ warnings : reader is referred to as “girl” with she/her pronouns, suggestive, mentions of oral sex, if I’m missing something pls lmk!! MINORS DNI

⊹ A/N : this is a repost from my prev blog bc i wanna continue this series and i cant post the next part without the context from this one so if it looks familiar, thats why. ALSO if anyone has a reblog of bachira's part somewhere pls send me the link!!

⊹ bachira’s version | kunigami’s version

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s do this”

“@/isagisbbybgrl asks How big is your dick?”

Isagi had practically choked on his own spit at the question.   “Wha—why is this the first question?!”

“I’m just reading out what Twitter wants to know?”, the interviewer laughs at the shock in his face. “Now answer the question.”

Isagi, Kunigami and Bachira were currently sat side by side across from their interviewer. They had been invited to guest star on LockX , one of the most popular podcasts to date relating to everything and anything Blue Lock. And today they were asked to answer a few fan questions from Twitter all while hooked up to a lie detector. Up first was Isagi, who looked like he was already regretting coming today.

“Like 10 inches” he sighed out. All heads turned to the polygraph examiner— Milo was his name.

“There’s no way—“

“Truth”

Bachira laughs out at Kunigami’s disbelief while the latter mumbles to himself. Something about not believing it till he sees it himself.

“Wait, now I’m curious” Bachira scooted forward and turned to Isagi. “How much of it does your girl take in her mouth?

“What the fuck Megs? Nope. I’m not talking about Y/N here. Not like that.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but more than half these Twitter asks are about her,” the interviewer adds.

“Come onnnn Yoichi”

“Fine. All of it. Next question”

“Milo?”

“He’s telling the truth” Milo nods back, while the room fills with whistles and cheers to Isagi, who’s hidden his face behind a hand but can’t help the proud smirk that grows on his face at the thought of you taking all of him.

“Okay okay” the interviewer laughs before he directs his next question, “User @/mysagiballs asks where is your favorite place to kiss a partner?”

“Hey at least this one’s not about Y/N”

“Ehh it technically is,” Bachira counters.

“It basically is,” Isagi sighs once again, finally accepting that this is what the rest of the interview will be like. “Her lips, that’s my favorite place to kiss her”

“He’s lying.”

“Wha- No I’m not!”

“Another lie”

“I feel like of all the questions you’ve been asked, this is the most mild.” Kunigami speaks up.

“But you’re lying about it, which means there’s something juicy you’re hiding” Bachira teases.

“Fine, her cheek”

“Still lying”

“Seriously Milo!”

This continues on for a few minutes, Isagi calling out a bodypart and Milo calling out his bullshit.

Her neck. Lie. Her shoulders. Lie. Her hands. Lie.

Meanwhile Bachira and Kunigami have practically fallen off the sofa in tears, laughing at how frustrated Isagi grows with every call of his bluff.

“Between her legs, alright?! I’m not getting any more specific than that. You can figure the rest out yourselves I’m sure”, he glares at Milo as he grumbles out his final answer.

“That was the…truth”

It takes a few moments for Bachira to calm down from his hysterics but then he’s teasing Isagi for being so naughty, giggling at the sight of his friend aggressively ripping off the cuffs and sensors connecting him to the polygraph.

“Yeah yeah, laugh all you want now but you’re going next.” Isagi grins at him, excited to see his friend suffer the same as he did.

"𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡"

dating rumors immediately started going around after influencer and model! reader and pro soccer player! isagi yoichi had taken a picture together at one of the athlete’s recent matches. 

of course, it all started with isagi admitting on an interview with a popular late night show host that his celebrity crush was you. after all, he loved how you laughed a lot in your videos, and also had a wonderful smile. not to mention you were drop dead gorgeous, no wonder why you were the face of popular designer brands like van cleef, louis vuitton, christian louboutin, and chanel! 

the two of you began talking after the clip went viral and caught your attention (you had been tagged thousands of times by your fans, a lot of them in ship edits of the two of you). however, it was nothing more than friends until the athlete invited you to his soccer match against the infamous manshine (manchester) city. 

isagi’s team proudly claimed victory thanks to his many assists and final goal, but it seemed that the sole picture of the two of you that you posted on your instagram went more viral than the football club’s win. 

both you and isagi’s PR teams were stressing about what to do with the media, and it didn’t help that you replied to a comment saying “i sense a WAG 🤭” with “it’s not like that 😔” to which many people replied: “watch, this won’t age well” and boy were they right

just a month later, isagi had posted a picture of him wearing a clean white-collared long sleeve shirt that wrapped around his muscles well, along with a designer belt and black pants. he appeared to be sitting in a chair, but what caught everyone’s attention was the red lipstick kiss stain left on his neck. the caption didn’t help either: “okay so we’re not just friends”

his fans immediately left to see your page, and your fans immediately left to see his page after your instagram post: a picture of you with a black dress and white bag, wearing red lipstick, the same shade on isagi’s neck. 

the top comment? “this is what i call a hard launch”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: i’m still thinking about when i called my guy best friend ness on accident because his first name is alexis and he looked at me like 😐

header credits go to mendokucha on twitter!